The explosion rocked the Dove before the two men could consult on the change in their ship any further. With a knowing look, they immediately shifted to the seriousness called for in a situation like this.
“Engines,” Hugh called.
“Then I shall see to Life Support.”
They scattered, a tickle of preemptive panic over their off-ecliptic shortcut fluttering in Hugh’s gut as he triggered an automated diagnostic.
Scuttling aft, Hugh tried to temper his panic with the knowledge that whatever the source of the explosion, it hadn’t killed them.