Jax, a mechanic whose skin was more grease than cell tissue, pulled his head out of the manifold. He wasn't just a mechanic; he was a 'Fantastic Mechanic,' a title he’d earned by jump-starting a dying star with a handful of copper wire and a dare. He wiped his brow, leaving a black streak across his forehead.
Captain Hix stood over the open access hatch, the red emergency lighting of the cargo bay making the scene look like a crime scene. "Tell me you can fix it, Jax," he sighed, looking at the figure submerged in the engine’s guts. fantastic_mechanic.rar
Jax looked at the glowing, jury-rigged monstrosity he’d built. "Don't ask me how it works, Cap," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Just don't turn it off." Jax, a mechanic whose skin was more grease
The air in the ship was getting thin, that metallic, recycled taste of a dying vessel. The crew huddled in the galley, watching the shadows dance as Jax’s welding torch flared in the hold. "Ready?" Jax croaked into his comms. Captain Hix stood over the open access hatch,
"Jax, if this blows, we won't even have time to scream," Hix replied from the bridge. "Just punch it, Cap."