The world slipped back into focus.
The light slapped her, disorientating.
Dentist-office-white and neon-blue.
The light chased away the shadows of sleep and forced her further toward consciousness. Thin streamers rose, spreading tentacles of warmth – coffee, waiting.
The computer banks whispered and hummed their lullabies, threatening to drag her back toward sleep.
She rolled off the soft cushioned bed, instinctively checking the life-support displays of her shipmates.
She frowned and staggered toward the coffee.
The ship’s voice tried to get her attention, but she raised her finger, willing it to silence as she sipped.
“Let me wake up first, you bastard.”
She looked out the porthole, saw a galaxy blooming against the velvet blackness of space.
Red. She realised.
“How far out are we? How long have we been under? How long have they been dead?”
The computer answered.
There wasn’t much room for hope.