"Shit."
"What?" Mike's voice felt closer, as if he was leaning in.
Elias leaned back and stared at the blockage.
"Hangman's sealed in. "
"Shit." Mike echoed. "How?"
"I forced the cruiser into damage control."
Silence stretched between them.
"What are your options?"
Elias thought for a moment.
He'd been here before.
"These ships use a rail launch system. Which needs to be loaded and primed."
"Meaning?"
"It means I need a cleared rail and a crew."
No. Not enough time.
"I could punch a hole in the hangar with my eighty-eights. "
"No, I'm sitting on old ammunition waiting for an excuse."
"Right. What do you need from me?"
"Use Wayfarer to clear the ventral debris… I'll figure out the rest. "
Elias looked at his oxygen timer.
[13:49]
Okay.
Elias pulled up the armament options on Hangman, thumbed through till he found the setting he was looking for.
[HEAVY TORPS]
[FUSE: DISABLED]
[FIRE DELAY: 15 MINUTES]
Elias held his breath as he pulled the trigger.
Nothing. Then a timer appeared on an auxiliary screen.
He sealed his visor shut.
Move.
He climbed out of Hangman, drew his knife, and wrenched open the thin access panel with ease. Revealing a mess of wiring, he pushed it aside and reached his arm all the way in till he felt a handle. He pulled. Nothing budged. He pushed, then pulled again. Nothing. Next, he tried a twist. It came free. A neon green cylinder came out of the ship. Hangman's black box.
The Hangman's generator continued to hum, while the computer flashed with errors as its very essence had been ripped out.
Elias wasn't present to read any of them.
Still, the fire delay kept ticking down.
Elias hopped over to the two interceptors waiting in their respective rail pits. He thumbed each of their power switches as they struggled to life. Making a quick note of which came to life stronger. He tossed the Nav Core, his bag, and Hangman's black box into the cockpit.
Elias could feel the air he drew becoming thinner as he made his way to the control room.
He didn't need to check the timer to know the answer.
"I've cleared ventral debris. " Mike's voice boomed in Elias's skull.
The control room had too many displays. He went to the biggest and cycled through options.
His head was splitting now. Breath quickening.
Come on, damnit, if drifters could figure it out, I should.
"You there, man?"
There it was, glowing bright on the terminal like an answered prayer.
[ACTIVATE LAUNCHER RAIL: 02]
He keyed open the settings.
[LAUNCH TIMER: 59 SECONDS]
I think that's it.
He could feel the needles in the tips of his fingers as he climbed into the new interceptor. The canopy shut with a hiss as it dumped old oxygen reserves into the cabin.
The interceptor began lowering into the pit just as he finished strapping in. Lights flared up to full speed. Jaws of the airlock began to shut.
A timer on his wrist went off. He checked the cabin pressure. It wasn't great. But it was better than his suit. He cracked the visor.
~inhales~
~exhales~
Relief washed over him as he forgot what he was doing for a moment. Then the drivers caught. He was pushed deep into the seat, and a bright green blur smashed into his visor, which split and cracked. Another weight punched his gut hard.
He tasted metal as he managed the controls, which stuttered and shook the frame before catching, forcing the ship slow.
He took a moment to get his bearings through broken glass.
Grave field.
Screens.
Pain.
Green ship.
Green good.
"I'm docking." Elias stated,
"Yes sir," Mike said jovially until Elias got close.
Then he got quiet.
A bone-white interceptor approached, wearing a red band of clean, fresh paint on its right wing.
It wasn't the Hangman.
It wasn't Elias's call.
The airlock clicked with certainty.
Elias didn't move after the movement stopped.
He leaned back in the straps, feeling his aching stomach. Then a hand traced the fracture across the visor.
Too close.
His heart thumped in his chest.
A sinking feeling settled.
He turned his head slowly.
Eyes widened.
The cruiser was a mere hundred meters away. Blotting out half his view.
"We're too damn close!" Elias yelled over the comms. "Shields to full, MAX speed!"
Mike didn't need to ask. Wayfarer sprang to life as it made reckless distance in seconds, scraping and rejecting a fractured hull as it weaved in and out of debris.
For a moment, the darkness vanished. Sensors saturated in white light. Wayfarer shook and leaned right almost ninety degrees. Gravity hiccuped before returning promptly. As quickly as it started, it was over.
Darkness returned.
Elias checked his interceptor. No damage.
Sensors returned, highlighting half of the cruiser in green, the other half folded upward, drifting away.
Sputtering out weak rings of gold and white.
The green hue flickered as signals died from the cruiser. Then snapped to a grey outline of debris.
Outline shrunk and disappeared as Wayfarer made distance.
"What the hell happened in there?" Mike's voice was raised.
"Hangman," Elias stated it like an equation in a textbook. "Turns out, reusing names is a bad omen." He let out a chuckle, which turned into a guttural cough.
The ache in his gut, making itself known.
Mike didn't know how to respond to that.
Elias pulled the chem doser and redosed even though he wasn't due for another hour.
The pain smoothed over to background noise. He clipped everything to his bag and climbed back up the ladder.
The bag was heavy.
Too heavy.
The ship began to slow before the lights dimmed again.
Mike was waiting by the corridor leading to the bridge.
The bag with the nav core dropped unceremoniously to the common room's floor. Elias didn't slow; heading to the bathroom.
His jacket was practically ripped off, then fell to the floor. Followed by the suit's double chime as it released pressure, becoming slack.
Elias peeled the top half off to take stock.
He exhaled a held breath.
Not that bad.
"Where's your cold packs?" Elias asked while rummaging through the mirror cabinet.
Mike rounded the corner of the open door where he was rummaging.
Then he saw it.
An ugly, black and blue square imprint across Elias's already scarred abdomen.
Red around the edges.
"Here!" He said, immediately opening a different cabinet, then tearing open the several packages.
Elias wrapped himself up, then put the suit top back on gently. Followed by the jacket.
"I was selfish. I'm sorry. " Mike said, breaking the silence. "You'll get a bigger cut, 90/10." He added.
"Don't worry about it. "
"But—"
"I'm alive. I still have a ship." Elias cut him off.
"It puts you in the negative." Mike pushed back, "I saw the torpedoes you were carrying."
Elias was already heading back to his cockpit.
"It's not about the money. " He repeated, disappearing down a ladder well.
"Never was. "