Stellar Debts and Spicy Jets

Chapter 2: Weightless and Wayward

"Don’t you dare go getting comfortable, Starling," Odette hissed, her breath ghosting against his collarbone.

"Comfortable? I’m currently being straddled by a professional assassin in a spinning tin can, Odette. I’d say 'frazzled' is more accurate," Felix retorted, his hands bracing against her armored waist to keep from drifting further into the bulkhead.

The ship gave a violent, sickening lurch. A stray wrench, forgotten during his last jury-rigging of the engine, floated past Felix’s nose like a metallic shark, followed closely by a half-eaten protein bar he’d been saving for lunch.

"Look out!" Odette shoved his shoulder, narrowly missing a collision with the floating debris. "If you hit your head, who’s going to fly us out of this?”

"You said you were going to kill me, remember? So technically, you’re just protecting your future victim," Felix grunted, grabbing a handhold to stabilize their rotation.

"I prefer my targets to have a functioning brain before I terminate them. It’s more satisfying," she snapped, though her grip on his flight jacket tightened as the Rusty Starling pitched sideways. "How do we fix the gravity? The console is dead."

"The gravity isn't the problem, it's the power relay," Felix said, his voice dropping into a professional register despite the absurdity of their embrace. "We need to cycle the manual override in the crawlspace behind the jump-seat. But it’s a tight squeeze."

Odette looked at the narrow access panel, then back at him, her silver-streaked hair floating in a halo around her sharp, flushed features. "Fine. You lead. I’ll make sure you don't stall us out."

"After you, my dear. I’d hate to be accused of taking advantage of the situation."

"Shut up, Felix," she muttered, pushing off him to propel herself toward the crawlspace.

The next few minutes were a choreographed disaster. As they drifted into the cramped service tunnel, the lack of gravity turned every movement into a slapstick routine. Odette tried to reach the internal wiring, but her heavy armor kept knocking into the loose bulkhead plates.

"Watch it! You're kicking the ventilation ducts!" Felix shouted, catching her ankle mid-air.

"I wouldn't be hitting the ducts if you’d stop drifting into my workspace!" she snapped, trying to right herself while floating upside down.

"I’m not drifting, I’m being repelled by your ego!"

A bag of electrolyte salts burst against the ceiling, coating the cramped space in a fine, white powder that made them both sneeze.

"Great. We’re going to die in a cloud of space-dust and seasoning," Felix wheezed, wiping his eyes.

Odette was struggling with a jammed lever, her brow slick with sweat. "Pull the secondary pin, you idiot! Not the yellow one, the red one!"

"That’s the emergency vent, you psycho! If I pull that, we’ll be vacuum-sealed into space!"

"Then pull the blue one!"

"There is no blue one! It’s faded to grey because you’re blocking the light!"

She let out a frustrated growl, twisting her body to face him. They were pinned together again, the centrifugal force of the ship’s rotation pressing them against the wall of the narrow conduit. The space was suddenly, overwhelmingly intimate. Her scent—jasmine and ozone—seemed to amplify in the confined, recycled air.

"Fine," Odette whispered, her gaze softening from lethal to something far more complicated. "We do it together. On three."

"On three," Felix agreed, his heart drumming against his ribs.

Their hands fumbled over the console, fingers tangling and brushing against skin. The heat in the ship was rising, the cooling systems offline, and the temperature gauge on his wrist-comp was climbing steadily into the red.

"Three," she breathed. They shoved the lever forward.

The ship shuddered. A massive, metallic groan echoed through the hull as the emergency power kicked in.

"Wait, is it getting hotter?" Felix asked, his shirt sticking to his back.

"The thermal regulators are locked in 'Overdrive' from the reboot," Odette said, wiping sweat from her forehead, her armor already feeling like a furnace. "We have to bypass the coolant flow, or we’re going to be slow-roasted in our own seats."

"I think the only way to bypass it is to strip the heat-sync cladding," Felix said, unzipping his jacket as his skin flushed deep red. "It’s too thick. My hands are too sweaty to get a grip."

Odette hesitated for only a fraction of a second before her nimble fingers went to the seals of her obsidian chest plate. "I’m not dying of heatstroke because of a faulty coolant pipe."

The sound of armor plates clattering onto the floorboards was loud in the small space. Felix’s breath hitched. Beneath the heavy gear, she wore a simple, charcoal-grey bodysuit that clung to her lean, athletic frame like a second skin.

"You’re really going to make this difficult for my composure, aren't you?" Felix rasped, tossing his jacket aside.

"You have no composure to begin with, flyboy," she said, though her eyes lingered on his bare chest. "Grab the lead pipe on the left. Pull. Now."

They hauled on the cooling line, their muscles straining, their bodies pressed tight against one another for leverage. The physical exertion in the rising temperature was intoxicating. With a final, wet hiss, the seal broke, and cool air began to rush through the vents.

Just as the ship’s artificial gravity stuttered back to life, they tumbled downward. The floor rushed up to meet them, and they landed in a heap, tangled limbs and frantic heartbeats.

Gravity slammed back into place, pinning them to the floor of the crawlspace. Odette was beneath him, her hands still locked on his shoulders, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the hum of the cooling system and their own ragged, synchronized breathing. The silence was heavy, charged with an electricity that had nothing to do with the ship's wiring.

Odette didn't shove him away. She didn't reach for her knife. Instead, her fingers curled into the back of his shirt, holding him there, just for a moment longer than necessary.

"Felix," she whispered, her voice low and dangerously soft.

"Yeah?"

"If you move, I’m going to kill you."

Felix looked down into her eyes, seeing the storm and the heat reflected there. He grinned, slow and lopsided. "I think we both know that's a lie."