Cla-clack

The sharp noise of the magazine sliding home echoed of the bullet pocked metal walls.
Captain Dennis P Walters sat behind a storage crate in corridor 1A, which lead from Engineering to the Command deck. He was bleeding out from the leg.

“Last one..” he sighed.

Civil war had broken out in this sector, and it so happened that the officer with the key to the weapons locker supported the insurrectionists. Him and his supporters had quickly silenced the unarmed opposition aboard. But Dennis had access to the small locker on the bridge, and had been holding off the bastards for two hours straight.
He lit a cigar. Vintage, made on Earth in 2472. He had never been to Earth.

“Damascus!” He yelled “I don’t suppose you can set the ship to self destruct?”
“Sorry Captain, Asimov’s laws prevent me for carrying out that instruction” Chimed the ship’s AI in a relaxed tone.
“Ah well, it was worth a try”
He took a drag of the cigar and cocked his gun.
“Play me something classical then.”

“Aye captain”