the speaker in the sm-13 crackles to life, a distant voice calling from the other end. once the layers of static clear up, words can start to be made out.
" – come in, captain? i– i think there's damage to the hull or – or something ; there's– a leak . . . somewhere? "
something between desperation and exhaustion laces through his words ; he doesn't sound . . . well. but that voice – it sounds . . . painfully familiar.
[ @frcmblood ! ]
[ C.O.I INFORMATION TERMINAL. RANDOM ASKS : ALWAYS ACCEPTING. ]
Simon stares anxiously at the flashing light as he waits for the static to clear up. Instinctively his hand rises to grab his knife sheath, thumb stroking in subconscious circles in an attempt to keep him calm. "I --- hello? I can't hear you, can you --- ?"
The voice crackles through with recognisable words, and Simon laughs with relief. He's so overwhelmed to have contact again that he barely even registers who's speaking to him. "Uh, yeah, there's... the - the porthole is cracked. I had to restart the engine, uh... I don't think whatever's dripping in is condensation." / @frcmblood