Icarus: Mission Day 1459; one day short of 4 years.
Four miserable god damned years. Eating the same God damned shit every damned day.
Lt. Colonel Herb Corvin checked the forward hatch. For a second, he wondered what it would be like to turn the hatch-lock and be sucked out in to space. It was fleeting. He blinked the thought away.
The view was the same. Stars and nothingness.
“Colonel,” came comms. It was Mike Zigler in thruster control.
“What’s up, Ziggy. Is the Ion Drive ok?”
“The Drive is fine, Herb, but you might want to take a look at this,”
Anything to break up the boredom, “I’ll be right up,”
“You might want to ask the others to come too!”
“Fine. Get Cheryl, Tom and Hanson to join us,”
“Roger that!”
Comms went quiet. Taking advantage of Zero-G, Herb pushed himself aft, where three other engineers met him,
“What’s going on?” Cheryl, Propulsion Specialist, wondered.
Tom shrugged.
The Icarus rocked, as bulkheads creaked, sparks flashing everywhere.
“Christ, we’re being boarded!!” Ziggy cried over comms.