Atlas' Lost

LIFE SUPPORT CRITICAL. REPLENISH OXYGEN.

No shit Sherlock. I'm sat here in a habitat with a failed fucking door seal. My exosuit is failing me. I could go out and mine for supplies but creatures resembling old Earth velociraptors are circling outside, getting braver by the moment. Waiting for me to leave, their intelligent green eyes implore me to come out and play through the thin glass of the habitat window.
Occasionally one of them will test the window with its bony skull before running away, yelping.

Sometimes a situation is just hopeless and resignation sets in. I crack the seal on my helmet and let in the what is probably the last of the habitats air. I gently lay down the helmet, treating the old friend with the respect it deserves.
I take a deep breath. It'll be toxic soon enough but for now it tastes better than the exosuit recycled shit.

REPAIR TECHNOLOGY. HABITAT AIR AT 10%.

The computer chip in my exosuit doesn't get the concept of the no win situation. Useless prick. I stand, the servos in my suit whine briefly. I walk to the window. The creatures get excited for a moment and start chattering and barking. I give them the finger.

My God the sky out there is beautiful. I know it's just refracted light but I'm glad such a beautiful collage of reds and oranges will be the last thing I'll see.

HABITAT AIR AT 5%.

I press on a small panel on the wall and take out a small tube from a compartment that slides out. I stroke it briefly then press the end of the tube. The other end ignites and then glows a steady orange.

DANGER. AIRBORNE CARCINOGENS NEARBY.

'Fuck you.' I say, taking a long drag on the cigarette before stepping outside to meet my fate.