There’s nothing so deafening as silence when you rely on the constant whirr of engines for the basic necessities of life.
There’s nothing so lonely as emptiness when your crew flies off into the Black on a half tank of gas and a whisper of hope.
There’s nothing so bitter as cold when you close the doors behind you and know you’ll never see them opened again.
There’s nothing so helpless as a man when he’s alone in a dying ship, without a hand to hold as his breath turns shallow and his fingers turn to ice.
There’s nothing so frightened as a captain, going down with his ship.