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Description
Starbuck hit the side of his helmet in desperation to re-activate his head-torch, but he dropped it and pulled out his plasma carbine as he heard the high pitch breaths of a creature that lurked just around the corner of the dusty corridor. If only he had been able to stay within comms reach of his team after the derelict, decade old Novus class cruiser had split them up after the corridor between them had been crushed under the pressure of space “Who know what trouble they’re in?” he muttered softly as he aimed his weapon at the tentacles slowly shifting out from the darkness. “Can’t be worse than this…”
Source
not provided yet
Maybe the tentacles will hand him a beer and gently cuddle him ’til he falls asleep, then wake him up with homemade waffles and syrup?
Other words of doom:
Well, at least it is not raining.
What else could possibly go wrong.