“Shields are down!”
Galin was thrown against the instrument panel by the blast.
“Thanks, Peaches!” he called angrily to his copilot who was seated next to him, “I hadn’t noticed.”
A succession of blasts rocked the ship, setting off numerous alarms. The cockpit became something resembling a chance music concert performed by an orchestra composed of pinball wizards on their best machines.
“Damn it! That sounds like a hull breach.”
Indeed it was; they felt a brief sucking sensation as the atmosphere vacated the ship, before the atmosphere retention door fell into place.
“At least nothing will be on fire.”