Carlos pressed on. "Here's the deal: the engines are gone, navigation is screwed, and the ship is completely out of control. There's only one chance to survive this. I'm ordering everyone to go to the hangar bay immediately."
"Get to the same transport ships you used for the camping trip. Stick with the people from your original teams, and for the love of whatever deity you pray to, oh, and don't panic."
He paused for a moment, glancing at the planet displayed on the console. It was growing larger by the second.
"That's all from me," he said finally, his voice grimmer now. "If you believe in any kind of god... now would be a good time to start praying. We're going to need all the help we can get."
Carlos slammed the microphone back into its holder, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent bridge. His lips curled into a bitter smile as he muttered to himself, "I really need a drink after this."
