The Atomic Taco

Estaban stared at the empty shot glass in front of him on the bar, and it stared back. It had been eight earth years since he had crashed here on Shear, and things were slowly winding down. Whatever bizarre force that had sliced the asteroid in half however long ago had left half of the life-support funtioning.....but a half isn't a whole, so the whole thing just couldn't keep going, despite the heroic efforts of the multiple redundant repair systems. The Down Lounge was about the last place still up and running....and it was running out. Atomic Taco could still make a string beef taquito, but it could no longer manage to fake the cilantro. A shot of cheap gin is easy to fake.....and for some reason, the bar-food program could still do deep fried calamari....tells you something about the quality of the calimari on Shear, doesn't it? The holographic bartender flickered sickly, running on half power....."Another, sir?" Estaban stared at the shot glass, and nodded for one more. Outside the meager bar windows, the stars pressed ever closer, as the atmosphere slowly bled away.....