I was aboard the ship - IT WAS A HUMAN VESSAL AND I WAS WORKING WITH OTHERS WHO SPOKE AMERICAN ENGLISH. But we were not military... but not science... what we were? I can't recall.
The explosion: I and a team of others were walking down one of the outer halls of the craft. I honestly don't know if it was a mothership or spacestation. It was big enough, whatever it was, that there were windows all down the hall so you could look out into space. I was aware of the view but took it for granted. And besides, I was busy.
As we walked, I was flanked on both sides and we discussed some sort of project. To be precise, I was giving them instructions or feedback or something. We wore white jumpsuits. I have always felt omg, ew, if I had been aware I would have insisted on something more flattering. I'm too fat to carry off that look.
There was an explosion behind us, and so I turned. It was such a big explosion, the craft even trembled a little. (Takes a lot to make a craft tremble because of the compensation devices in place.) I was concerned and was going to go back to see what was going on.
Immediately the others started pushing me. "You have to go!" they shouted as they pushed me. "Go! Go go go! Go now! You have to go!"
I was pushed into a tiny capsule, like an escape hatch, even though I didn't want to. When the door shut on me, the memory ends. I woke up that day honestly wondering how I got home and where I had landed.
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