"T minus one minute and closing!"

That was the last thing that escaped Simon's mouth before several tons of space-grade steel plowed straight into the Star's hull. The screech was ear splitting, but after all was done, the umbilical was locked firmly in place by the magnetic clamps. Felix had done his job, now it was time for them to do theirs. Simon stood, unclipped a slightly bent piece of plas-steel from his chest plate and bolted it into place on the back of his neck guard. The folded piece of equipment powered up and unfolded with a rhythmic whirring and clicking, extending itself up over his head and around his ears, the helmet slowly forming itself in place. The last thing to form itself was the faceplate, which he left up while he excited the cockpit, not without giving Felix a pat on the shoulder. 

"Good job Felix, thank you. We'll take it from here, you busy yourself with getting out of the way of those rocks."

Without waiting for anyone else he booked it from the cockpit, grabbing his rifle from the bench as he strode towards the shuttle's airlock. He pushed his way ("excuse me sorry") past the Visipian, Mez, and tapped the airlock control. He turned back to the remaining crew still within the ship, a grimace on his face. 

"Colleagues, we have to leave, now."

He nodded his head and his faceplate slid down and snapped into place, the viewports of the stark white helmet lighting up in a crimson red cross. 

"Otherwise we all perish."