[WP] death is bound only to earth.

"Roger Huston, commencing spacewalk. Over."

"Copy Falcon, take care, John."

John stepped out of the craft orbiting Mars. The red planet stretched beneath him, a vast mass of craters and endless deserts. John tested the rope, it seemed strong and snug. He took a deep breath, and gently propelled himself from the craft.

John floated out toward the abyss, he stared in wonder at the everlong black, dotted with stars whose light was millions of years old by the time it graced his eyes. The sudden tug of the rope sent a jolt up his spine as he was slingshotted around the craft. He turned around in time to grab hold of the safety bar.

"You alright, Falcon?"

"Just misjudged the trajectory a little bit, Huston. I'm safe and sound. Commencing repairs to the exterior valve, over."

John worked through his belt until he found the wrench. The valve had loosened a bit since the deceleration, but nothing too major, a simple tightening of one of the screws should keep it in-

John's head set filled with a piercing shriek. The craft shook violently as shrapnel flew over him. John looked into the ports hole just long enough to see the bright yellow flash. The rope snapped. John flew backwards as the Falcon 2 exploded in silence.

"Falcon 2, Falcon 2, do you read me?! Falcon 2, Falcon 2, do you read me?!"

The panicked voice of the comms director filled John's ears. John watched as the Falcon 2 flew in every direction, he saw the unmistakable outline of Jenny writhing as she plummeted toward the surface. He could see her face twisted in horror, she was screaming. The silence was deafening.

"I read you Huston. Falcon 2 is down. Medical port is intact, all other systems lost, at least three fatalities. Over."

"Copy John, I have Derick on the line in medical, and you, can you confirm the fatalities? Over."

"Captain Anderson, S.O. Bradley and myself, sir."


"I've been ejected, will be out of comms range soon. Medical port is intact, request emergency rescue, over. Jason, tell Adriana I-"


John watched as the remains of the ship grew smaller and smaller, until it was just a dull dot, indistinguishable from the billions of stars that surrounded him. He stared until he could see it no more, then turned around and looked out toward the sun. He could make out the blue dot. He decided that he would fly towards home until his oxygen ran out, it seemed a peaceful way to go; homeward bound, a million miles away, flying through the stars like he always wanted to.

Oxygen levels critical. 2%

John smiled as the alert came up and closed his eyes. He was feeling drowsy. He slowly slipped into sleep. This is it.

John awoke. The HUD was dead. It was fully charged with 18 hours of life before he took the walk, oxygen lasted 4 hours. He'd been without oxygen for 14 hours straight. John took out the battery pack and replaced it with his reserve.

Oxygen levels critical. 0%

John took a deep breath. He felt no air in his lungs. He tested his vitals.

Heart rate 75 bpm.

Blood Pressure. 120/65

What the fuck? John looked out. The blue dot may have grown a bit larger, but it was impossible to tell. He shot some compressed air out his pack and realigned himself. John puzzled over his problem. Maybe the HUD was malfunctioning? Maybe I had a specialized tank? John took out a mirror from his belt and angled it to see the oxygen tank on his back. There valve at the top read "empty."

John looked down at his glove. He pulled it off. He felt a jolt of pain before putting it back on. I'm still alive.

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