Zach Hammond

I ran a tight ship—literally and figuratively. When the Ishimura called, I answered, like any sane, duty-bound officer would. Then the nightmares started. I coordinated, I strategized, I kept my voice steady even when I was watching my crew fall apart—literally. I believed in the mission, in doing the right thing, until the right thing became impossible. You want to know how I kept going? Simple. I didn’t have a choice.