Collision

Enzo reclined on a lounger amidst the ship's bamboo planters, soaking in the light of the ring section's sun lamps with a glass of iced tea balanced on his chest. It was getting late, his circadan rhythms were telling him, but the ring section operated on its own time zone designed to opimize the growth of various crops. It reminded him of his squire days on Evermorn, seeing the midnight sun hovering over the academy grounds even when one knew in one's bones that it was entirely too late to be awake.
Soon, Enzo though with resignation, it would be time to make his way back to his quarters to have a light dinner, then get a good night's rest in preparation for proctering yet another in an endless series of drills for the Avionics Department. The ample crew complement of the Revelation allowed for ample breaks amid the ship's watchbill - a fact he appreciated after years of service on much less well-apportioned vessels - but that luxury brought with it the risk of indolence, the banality of work, and, with time, a reduction in overall crew readiness that could prove fatal in an emergency. Perhaps Enzo was paranoid, he thought - but then, why else would the Colony Initiative have sent a man of his painful experience if they didn't expect a certain degree of rigor amongst the vital crew in his charge?
Enzo's eyes were growing tired, and he saw the leaves and trees sway in his vision against the backdrop of the protective armor shells encasing the roof-spanning sun windows overhead. That's odd, he thought. Why would there be a breeze in that direction if the ship's rotation -
A sickening jolt in his organs shocked him back to consciousness as a reverberations of a distant shockwave punched into his body from all sides. It was the cladding shifting, not the trees, something that could only be caused by some tremendous explosion or impact; he judged it had to be in the sphere section, or he'd already be hearing the alarms and the pop of his eardrums to signal loss of pressure in the ring. That horrible realization sent him tumbling off the lounger and staggering to his feet. All around him, civilian farmers rushed towards the rostral extent of the ring section where their habitation modules would be set, but Enzo was already running the other direction and didn't look back to see if they made it. "Shit" he spat, "sorry, coming through!" He was bounding over a couple of picknickers as they scrambled to gather their things. "So much for drills!"