A self indulgent idea that will probably induce severe cringing... but I'm going to try and write my next thing in this tiny little corner of the world. Feedback, good, bad and ugly welcome. It will probably die on the vine, but oh well. This is my "girl and her robot" idea. I've renamed her "Nyx" and we'll meet her in the next scene. but here's what I've got so far (when i really should be working) _ “Mayday, Mayday”. Jacob’s strained voice sounded pathetic in his own ears. He could hear the terror in his voice, even through the helmet’s tinny speakers. The fear was even more apparent in the reflection of his face in the visor, now bathed in the pulsating blood-red of warning sensors. Blinking sweat from his eyes, he could see Saturn V slid below him, the space station pirouetting gracefully within the ice ring. So close, and yet so far. It was at least ten minutes away, at maximum thrust from his jet pack. If his jet pack had been working. It wasn’t. He checked the illuminated numbers that floated through the river of red on his visor. It wouldn’t matter if the damn jets worked anyway, because he only had oxygen for two minutes. The chunk of ice that hit him had gouged through everything critical. The thruster control unit, the oxy lines, the nav system. Hell, it had probably taken out the radio, rendering his terrified Mayday call pointless. And the station kept on sliding past, out of view now, replaced by the deep black of space and its twinkling star jewels. He realised he was in his own slow spin. Sol slid by, a silver coin amongst the diamonds. It looked as cold as the black blanket it had been flipped on. No, it was him that was cold. Great, the heater was fucked as well. So he’d die alone, asphyxiated and stone cold. Minutes from home, and in an uncontrollable, nauseating tailspin. If only his mind would stop screaming in panic, he might try to make his peace. - “Its no good, his radio’s fried.” Hamish slammed his fist onto the comms deck in Saturn V’s traffic control room. It didn’t matter what frequency he tried, the silence in response was deafening. They’d even shut down the entire station’s comms to listen for any kind of weak response. But nothing. And anyway, what use would the radio be. It was almost a blessing that he couldn’t reach Jacob. What the hell would he say to a man in his last moments?