“When the storm comes, my compass always points towards it”. Bart was the only member of the crew panicking, none of the systems were working correctly. Communication was out of the question and that same eerie tune kept repeating over the intercom system.

“This isn’t right, the storm shouldn’t be affecting us like this.” Morris looked through the system again hoping he’d missed something.

“Should we wake an officer? Should we wake the Captain?”

“We may have to. This isn’t right.” Morris repeated.

The skeleton crew not in hybernation all stopped and listened as the ship made noises they’d never heard before in space. Like the sound of claws scraping against the hull. Except there was nothing there, an electrical storm but no meteors or degree. Just the Jericho suspended in the vast vacuum of space.

As the sound moved along the ship alarms started to sound.

“Hybernation decks D through H have hill damage, Morris what do we do?” Kish yelled through the alarms.

“Lower the bulkheads and protect the other decks, the chambers should protect them for at least a couple of hours which gives us time to rescue any that are viable.”

“And the rest?” Asked Bart, trying to not show his disgust.

“Take someone down and make sure the damage is only on those decks.” Morris avoided replying. The needs of the many and the mission outweighed what would only be unskilled crew on those decks.

It was not wasted on him that he had judged greater men for sacrificing soldiers in battle over the years, and here he was making the same decisions he’d damned men and women to hell for.

Their excuse had always been the greater need outweighed those deemed as less than human when it was convenient. The mission promising those on board that this was an honour, seeking out new worlds to populate, the human race evolving beyond all their collective dreams.

The truth was far colder, that human beings have never progressed forward without the ritual sacrifice of its poor and desperate.

Even within our own race we weigh the worth of every person to decide if we will profit from them or whether they are ballast for our assension.

On H deck Lara woke vomiting from her capsule. She didn’t hear it hit the metal grate floor with the alarms, the lights flashing the sound of metal bending as if trying to drown out the screams. Her capsule he’d been three rows up and now it hung tilted above the floor. Panicking crew ran past her knocking her down over and over again as they tried to escape. Her tiny frame couldn’t rise through the crowd and she curled up into a ball as if to accept what ever fate was about to happen. She was still curled up and confused when someone grabbed the back of her top and dragged her down the corridor throwing her through the decreasing gap below the bulkhead. The moment it close and locked the screaming crying mass of survivors fell silent. Sat on the cold floor she looked up at who had rescued her. A tall broad man with dark hair was shouting over questions asking the crew to remain calm and help would be coming.