Urgent|Personal|Unsent| Tell me you haven't signed on yet. Stay on the surface. Better yet, go back to Earth and out of Bray's orbit—
Leaning over on his sledge, István smacks the airlock button.
Through the airlock speaker, the station says, "Lock-out procedure initialized. Remember to double-check your personal oxygen supply!"
István gives a little get-on-with-it motion with a hand, waiting for the cycle to complete and let him out. The station's solar catchers should be self-repairing, but something always breaks, and then it's always his problem to fix.
Normally alerts would come through his earpiece, but István's tweaked his to only give alerts for problems within 100 meters of his location. Issues with the labs five sectors away aren't his issue. At least not until his shift leader messages him.
"Airlock opening. Technicians are asked to return once system charge drops to 40%."
Nobody follows that procedure. 40% charge is an absurdly huge margin for getting back inside safely. But their fussy station keeps reminding them, always in the same cadence.
He kicks his sledge into gear. It's a relief to get away from the research complexes, from everything in them he doesn't understand.
István gets to work. Powering down a grid of the solar catchers, cutting out the damaged material, cutting a new piece from the replacement roll. The only sounds are the squeaking of his suit joints and the hiss of his cutter.
Until the station says, the loudest he's ever heard it, "Charge at 93%. Threat level alpha!"
István jerks up, cutter gouging a hole in his repair material. No detail. Another false alarm from their fussy station.
Even louder, the station says, "Charge at 93%. Threat level alpha!"
He looks around. Nothing. Except—a handful of fiery glints in the dark.
István grabs his sledge. It drags him up the hull, his suit scraping across the catchers in a way that'll leave bruises. He doesn't stop until he finds an overhang.
And then he watches fragments of meteor coming in hot from far out of orbit, impacting the solar catchers right where he was standing. His roll of repair material is torn apart in an instant.
"Technicians are asked to return once system charge drops to 40%."
His charge is sitting steady at 86%.
Shakily, he says, "Heading in. Now."