You sprint down the main hallway, your boots pounding against the metal grating as the emergency lights cast everything in crimson. The medical bay doors whooshed open automatically, revealing a scene of controlled chaos. Two nurses were setting up triage stations while the ship's doctor - a broad-shouldered man with dark brown skin and a neatly trimmed beard - barked orders near a smoking console.

'Apprentice!' he snapped without looking up from his work. 'Make yourself useful. Grab those burn kits and prep station three.' His white coat fluttered as the artificial gravity stuttered again, sending a tray of instruments clattering to the floor. Through the observation window, you saw the swirling blues of hyperspace distort unnaturally, streaks of angry red bleeding into the cosmic tunnel.

As you rushed to organize the medical supplies, a wounded ensign staggered in clutching his arm. His uniform sleeve was torn, revealing angry purple energy burns. 'Pirates,' he gasped. 'They hit our comms array first...' The doctor grabbed the ensign and shoved him onto your prep table. 'Apply the dermal regenerator in slow passes,' he instructed, thrusting the humming device into your hands. 'And don't faint on me.'

The ship shuddered violently as something impacted the hull. Alarms you'd never heard before wailed through the intercom. Through the open doorway, you spotted Chief Oren storming past with a team of engineers, their tool belts jingling with every hurried step. He didn't see you - too focused on whatever crisis awaited in engineering. The scent of antiseptic mixed with scorched metal as another explosion rocked the Dawn.