The transmission of the Rust-Bucket Nebula didn't just fail; it screamed in binary before melting into a puddle of slag.
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. 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." The transmission of the Rust-Bucket Nebula didn't just
"Jax, if this blows, we won't even have time to scream," Hix replied from the bridge. "Just punch it, Cap." He wiped his brow, leaving a black streak
"The hyper-drive's synchronizer is toasted, Cap," Jax said, his voice raspy from inhaling ion fumes. "And by toasted, I mean it’s currently a very expensive paperweight."
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.