The hiss of the airlock greeted me as I floated out of my hab, my helmet’s visor reflecting the behemoth cargo ship suspended in the void. Its metal hull was battered and bruised, a silent testament to the countless journeys it had weathered. As a cutter, it was my job to give this old giant a proper farewell, piece by piece.

I launched myself toward the ship's stern. The familiar hum of my tools was a comforting melody, a reminder of the countless ships I had disassembled before. I started with the outer panels, my laser cutter slicing through the thick metal with precision. Each spark that flew off was a tiny firework in the blackness, a celebration of my progress.

As I moved deeper into the ship, I marveled at its intricate design. The cargo bay was a maze of compartments, each holding remnants of its past life. Crates of supplies, rusted machinery, and the occasional personal trinket told stories of the people who had once called this ship home. It was as if I was not just breaking down a vessel, but unearthing a forgotten history, piece by precious piece.

The zero-gravity environment was both a challenge and a thrill. I had to maneuver carefully, using my thrusters to navigate the tight spaces. One wrong move could send me spiraling, but with each successful cut, I felt a surge of accomplishment. The ship was a puzzle, and I was slowly but surely finding all the right pieces.

My work was methodical, almost meditative. The clang of metal, the hiss of my cutter, the gentle hum of my suit’s life support – all combined into a symphony of deconstruction. It was hard work, but there was a beauty in it. The satisfaction of seeing the ship’s skeletal frame emerge as I stripped away layers was unparalleled.

Hours passed unnoticed as I lost myself in the task. My HUD displayed the ship’s schematics, guiding me to the valuable components hidden within. Each reactor core, each circuit board I salvaged felt like a treasure unearthed. The value of these parts wasn’t just in credits, but in the craftsmanship and engineering they represented.

As I detached the final piece, the once-mighty cargo ship was reduced to a collection of parts that had been sent towards the various tubes, ready to be repurposed and given new life. I floated back, taking a moment to admire my work. Where the ship had been just a while ago, was now once again an empty void. I turn around and return to my hab, ready to be greeted by a new, even more impressive ship on the next day.