Page 165 of Bonds of Starfall

A different beep through the headset made him perk up. He touched the button on the side. "Yes?"

The private line of communication was filled with static. The ship was large. A cargo hold below was filled with crates of supplies they were taking to Sibeth.

A voice came through. "The heat sensors are going haywire. How’s the temp up there?"

Kit checked the temperature gauge. "All clear. Problem?" His voice was curt.

A pause. "We’re watching it. Be alert."

"Copy," Kit said, then released the button on the headset. He turned slightly, staring at the Hunters behind him. They laughed and joked with each other.

Kit’s jaw clenched.

Minutes passed. His worry grew.

He tapped the headset. "Any news?" Static. "Hello? This is Blackfall. Check in."

Nothing.

He was trained for this.

A small warning light began to flash on the temperature gauge as the needle began to slowly and steadily tick upwards into the warning zone of yellow, instead of hovering in the green.

"Fuck," he cursed lowly.

Kit tried one last time to get in contact with below. It was utterly silent on the other end.

His hands flashed on the controls as he worked to level out the temperature gauge by slowing the ship’s pace, hoping to cool the engines. Sweat prickled on the back of his neck.

The needle rose. Inching into the orange.

"Hey, Blackfall?" one of the Hunters spoke through the headset. "All good up there? We’re sweating buckets."

No training sim could have prepared him for this. Keep calm. Handle it alone. The Hunters weren’t trained in this—they couldn’t help.

It was up to Kit.

This was why he was here.

He touched the headset, staring at the slowly rising needle. The thruster began to tremor slightly. "All good," he said. He released the button.

Something exploded below, and the whole ship jerked, jolting off course.

Kit’s hands slammed into the controls, saving him from being thrown against it. Yells broke free behind him.

Red warning lights flashed. He began to sweat in earnest, dripping from his hair, making his suit stick to his skin. He blinked through the burn of salted sweat in his eyes, unable to move his hands away from the control panel as he flicked through the buttons and carried out emergency procedures.

"Warning, warning," a monotone robotic voice blared in time with the red lights. "Oxygen valves hit. Preserve oxygen levels. Preservation mode commencing in five… four… three…"

The warning systems counted down.

Kit engaged the headset. "Buckle up. Stay seated. Breathe lightly." He inhaled shallowly. "Brace."

His nightmare of his past life flashed behind his closed lids with every torturously slow blink.

The shaking rattle of the ship. Rin in his arms. The heat. The lack of air.

It was all being replicated now.