Crew: Space

"Life support is at sixty percent," Elara, the crew’s medic, replied from the back. "And if Jax doesn't stop overclocking the thrusters, we’ll be breathing recycled carbon by Tuesday."

They gathered at the airlock monitor. Outside, there was nothing but the shimmering veil of a nebula. But the thumping continued—three slow, deliberate knocks. Space Crew

The bickering was a comfort—a rhythm that proved they were still human in a place that wasn't meant for them. But the rhythm broke when a low, rhythmic thumping echoed through the hull. It wasn't the engine. It was coming from the airlock. "Life support is at sixty percent," Elara, the

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Suggest me a sci-fi book following the adventures of a small crew

"We have to," Kael said, his voice tight. "If someone is out there, they’re dying."

"We don't open it," Elara whispered, her hand hovering over her medical kit.