Captured (English)

A bullet ricocheted off the rock in front of SSgt. Jebediah Anderson. He flinched as fragments of asteroid deflected off his visor, one leaving a chip in it. As he maneuvered back into cover, Jebediah looked to his right and saw Pfc. Stevenson turn to speak to him.

Just as he did this, a hypersonic slug from the cruiser they were attempting to board struck the asteroid Jebediah's squad had been using for cover. The large rock exploded, chunks tearing into the men. Jebediah felt an impact on his helmet and was suddenly dropped into darkness. Others screamed before the air was torn from their lungs, their silenced voices consumed by the void. Bodies spun through the vacuum of space, sunlight sparkling off frozen blood droplets.

Jebediah awoke to the bright lights of an ambulance shuttle, a soft, clear, oxygen mask secured over his mouth and nose. He head wanted to explode, but he took comfort in the fact he was alive. Then he remembered his men, the soldiers that had been fighting alongside him.

Jebediah groaned, "Stevenson?" and tried to sit up. A tightness across his chest stopped him from rising. He tried his hands, and found them similarly bound. Jebediah craned his neck to look around and saw that he was in a medical shuttle used to recover victims from vacuum. He was the only person in the rear compartment, which was connected to the cockpit via a single closed hatch. A similar docking airlock was at the rear of the room. The foot of his bed was towards the cockpit.

Jebediah cried out, hoping to get someone's attention, panic beginning to rise within him. There was something said behind the cockpit hatch, but the noise was muffled by the composite-armored bulkhead. He forced himself to calm down and think through his pain. It seemed like he had been captured, likely picked from the rubble by an ambulance shuttle dispatched from the defending cruiser. At least they kept me alive, he thought. Jebediah hoped his captors would respect his rights as a prisoner of war, and his mind began to race with thoughts of what he would say when pressed; the headache wasn't helping.

His worrying was cut short by a "thump" and sudden halt to the shuttle's momentum. Jebidiah braced himself for what would come next. After what felt like an eternity, the rear airlock unsealed.

The small cabin filled with the sounds of a busy hanger trying to recover from the damages of battle. Technicians rushed to and from various tasks, pilots and marines moved tiredly to their debriefings, and more wounded were being were being taken to the medical bay. Jebediah was wheeled through them all, taking mental notes for when he was released or tried to escape.

His two combat-suited escorts remained impassive to their unwilling charge as they stepped into an elevator on the far end of the hangar. The doors shut, and the man on the right swiped a security card and pressed a button for a lower deck. The elevator began its descent into the bowels of the vessel, and Jebediah Anderson, rank Staff Sergeant, felt fear for the first time in a long time.