A voice in the darkness beckoned to him. "Dave. Wake up Dave", came the voice. It sounded very far away, but at the same time right in his ear. Dave grumbled a "Five more minutes...." as his thoughts couldn't quite coalesce. "Wake up Dave!" repeated the voice, with more volume and clarity. Dave grumbled "It's my day off... Leave me alone!" he mumbled back. "Dave, your assistance is required if you do not wish to die.", returned the voice. This tickled something in Dave's addled mind. "Die? I'm not dying. Am I?" He thought. Then his head exploded with pain just above his left eye, his eyes shot open and he flailed wildly for a few seconds pushing his weightless body away from the wall where it had settled.
"Son of a french toast stick! OW!" He exclaimed. Reaching his hand up to his forehead over his eye he felt an odd object embedded in the skin. Getting his fingers on it he pulled it away from his forehead and looked at it. It was a flat mostly round piece of metal about the thickness of a dime. He noticed then that his fingertips were bloody and remembered the pain. Then he remember the most important thing "That thing shot me in the head!" he said to no-one in particular. "Yes Dave, you were shot in the head" said Cam.
Dave peered again at what he now assumed was a bullet and reached back up to prod the wound. It obviously left a hole in his flesh, but he was pretty sure that his skull was intact. "Getting shot in the head normally doesn't leave a lot of room for things like, oh I don't know, SURVIVAL!" he said. Cam responded, "I am sure there is a perfectly rational reason why you are not dead. That being said you did lose consciousness yet again and I will request, once we are out of danger, that you get your brain scanned for any long term effects of losing consciousness so many times in quick succession".
Thinking for a second Dave said, "Well consciousness is overrated. Now, you said I may die anyway, so what's the situation?". "The Profit's engines are offline and I can not get them back online. Our orbital burn to our destination was interrupted before optimal trajectory could be reached. Our current trajectory will lead to the ship falling into this systems primary star in about three months.", Cam reported. "Well three months should be plenty of time to figure out a solution right? Send a distress call or something?" Dave asked.
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Cam delivered another string of not so great news, "Oh you will die of asphyxiation long before that Dave. The Profit's life support system was also heavily damaged. Since you are the only one alive on the ship who needs to breathe I can only have life support enabled in the compartment you are currently in. This will help save the reserves, however at your current rate of consumption you have about seven days of breathable air".
This startled Dave into looking around and seeing the Fa-Wel crews bodies all floating lifeless with their feet stuck to the floor looking like tall grass in a wind storm. The human brain tends to be good at distractions in stressful situations, but Dave internally berated himself for forgetting. He wasn't supposed to be here and the Captain could have just as easily shot him out an airlock during his first bout with unconsciousness but he didn't. On top of that Strint seemed genuinely interested in attempting to help Dave get back home, even if they had only spent a total of twenty minutes talking before the everything went pear shaped.
"So what are our options at this point Cam?" Dave asked. "First you must get down to medical and clean and dress that head wound. After that we can discuss options. Follow the green line on the walls to get to medical. I have been able to restore enough power to run the lift system but you will need the magnetic footwear to move around effectively". This, Dave knew, meant he would have to borrow a pair from one of the deceased crew. It made him feel a little uncomfortable, but practically speaking Dave needed the shoes far more than the dead.