You join me with post fight repairs underway in an asteroid field before the next jump when...
That wasn't a laser blast, something hit us...
...fires breaking out...double shields breached...engine room down...engineer down...more fires...door control out...O2 out...headless-chickens-start-tearing-around-trying-to-repair-the-doors-vent-fix the O2 and...OMG the rocks are killing me?!
...door control online...O2 online...rocks, big, BIG rocks...hull critical...thin air, no time...do or die repairs...
...die Die DIE...
A Zoltan lies on the cold steel of the engine room floor contemplating the pretty faint glow of reflected fire, the heady delights of asphyxiation, a peaceful end only mildly disrupted by the hull shattering into a thousand pieces...