The ship is hit by something that looks like a world-shift kaleidoscope effect on steroids. There is no warning. Cameron isn't even in her raiment. One moment, she's watching Ganymede smoothly fall away and the next, she's tumbling in vacuum, right into the maw of the dimensional fracture.
The next thing she feels is fire. And then she doesn't feel anything at all.
A meteor falls out of the clear blue sky. It strikes an unremarkable hill, leaving a small crater and a few barely-identifiable remnants of blackened human bone.
Twenty-four hours later, a nude, unnaturally beautiful, improbably pristine girl climbs out of the crater (where there was definitely no girl ten minutes ago), gasping from the brief sensation of growing all her nerves (and her everything else) back from nothing.