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that nobody could overhear
their conversation. The rest of the crew were completely focused on the docking
bay pressurisation light, which still glowed a warning red. “That’s because I
have just seen a ghost. He’s currently confined to medical under heavy guard,”
he explained evasively.
    “Who is in medical under guard?” She insisted, trying to
understand Paul’s cryptic response.
    But Paul was interrupted, before he could reply, by the
chime of the bay door, and the light changed from red to green. With a cry the
crowd surged into the small docking bay, carrying both Paul and Miranda along
with them. Paul’s response lost among the noise.
    The engineers immediately swarmed around the blackened
exterior of the object. Up close Miranda was even more certain of her original
guess. One of the engineers confirmed this, as not even waiting for the others
he started to rub away the grime from the object. Clearly visible under the
black exterior was the name Eternal Light , imprinted across the hull.
The Aurelius’ family crest was also partially visible, dispelling any
possibility this was another shuttle with the same name. A hush fell across the
crowd after the name became visible. Nobody, not even Miranda, really expected
that it might actually be the shuttle .
    Redoubling their efforts, the engineers continued to brush
off the external filth, until with a cry of success one of the engineers
finally managed to find the manual control for the emergency cockpit escape
hatch. With a glance at Paul, who gave a nod of approval, the engineer twisted
the control, finally pulling down upon the revealed lever. With an audible pop of equalising air pressure, the hatch slid open leaving a dark hole, big enough
for one man or woman, to enter or exit.
    The room collectively held their breath, but after a few
moments it became apparent nobody was exiting the cockpit.
    “Make way. Make way,” Gunny called out, pushing through the
eight-person deep crowd, his pistol from earlier still firmly strapped to his
thigh. Without even breaking stride Gunny caught the handhold above the
emergency hatch and slid his body through the narrow gap. The crowd held their
breath as the sergeant disappeared from sight.
    One minute.
    Two.
    Time seemed to stretch out endlessly. Suddenly Gunny’s head
appeared back out of the hatch. “Somebody give me a hand,” he called out,
reaching back within the portal. First an arm appeared, encased in the white
Imperial Navy uniform of a fleet Commander, then another, finally followed by a
head. Two of the nearest engineers darted forward, supporting the head as Gunny
eased the rest of Jon’s body out, finally laying the Commander spread eagle on
the floor of the docking bay, in front of all that remained of the Eternal
Light . Casting his eyes towards the body, the sergeant whispered
dejectedly, “I can’t find a pulse.”
    Not a word was spoken by the crowd. Everyone frozen at the
sight of the body lying on the bay floor. Still. Motionless.
    Pushing his way through the crowd, Doctor Richardson kneeled
beside the body, looking for a pulse, unable to find one, but instead finding
the body freezing cold. “Get a resuscitation team over here. Now,” called the
Doctor, as the medics pushed to the front of the crowd, laying out their
equipment around the body, as if in benediction. One of the medics slipped an
oxygen mask over Jon’s face, while another medic handed the doctor the small
portable defibrillator.
    “Clear,” he called, activating the massive electrical charge
to surge through Jon’s body, jumpstarting his heart muscles.
    Jon spasmed, but was then still.
    Checking once again for a pulse, but unable to find one, the
Doctor reapplied the defibrillator, once again sending the massive jolt of
energy through the body — again with no success. The crowd
started to back away, the mood turning bleak as they recognised the Commander
had passed away.
    “By the great Maker. Live!” The Doctor