Chapter Text
I'll just steal one of the best spaceships in the galaxy, Hansol had said, but maybe even one of the best ships in the galaxy couldn't maneouvre her way out of a fight with one of the biggest criminal syndicates in space—especially with all her sisters coming after him.
"-the Dinosaur, I repeat, he is in the Dinosaur. I am putting a bounty of 50,000 thalers on his head; whoever brings him and the ship back to me in one piece will be paid a bounty of 50,000 thalers." The radio shut off and made a crackling noise which turned into a continuous high-pitched whine that lasted until Hansol slammed a palm down on it to shut it up.
Wincing at the ringing in his ears, he turned most of his attention back to the beacon that was taking its sweet time to power up. "Come on, come on, come on," he muttered, and resisted the urge to bang on it in an attempt to make it work faster. It was a delicate instrument, for all that it looked like it had been hacked together with nothing but spare parts and too much coffee.
Though considering its creator and the price Hansol got it for, he wouldn't have been surprised if it was true.
The yellow standby light finally came on and Hansol lurched up and out of his seat to the console, keeping one hand on the steering even as he flicked the autopilot on. It was a gamble; maybe it would let the ship start driving herself back to the planet he'd been escaping from, but Hansol really, really needed to input some coordinates. He stuck the corner of the scrap of paper Seungkwan had given him in his mouth and fumbled with the keypad, gritting his teeth as the ship tumbled narrowly through a gap between some of the orbiting moons.
Hansol braced himself against the bulkhead with his palm and hit the final number with his other hand, letting out a sigh of relief as the beacon blinked green and the ship began to count down in a computerised female voice. "Hyperspace jump initiated. Jumping in 30 seconds."
The computerised voice continued in the background as Hansol checked the ship's numbers, making sure they were on course and travelling swiftly. All in all, he'd done pretty well. The ship was the biggest prize, of course, along with the small cube he'd been asked specifically to get. The unused sections of metal high in lockium he'd give to Jihoon and the others at the junkyard, and if there was anything else leftover that they wanted after revamping the ship, they could have that too.
He'd maybe keep the autopilot, though. It seemed to be just as good as the stories had said.
Just then, there was the sound of a crunch and Hansol was thrown across half the cockpit with a yelp, hitting the other side of the ship with enough force to make him see more stars than just the ones outside his window. He sat up with a groan, distantly hearing the computer report damage to the boosters and the left side of the ship.
As he turned around to try and assess the damage for himself, he saw two spaceships veer off below to either side of him, each coming up slightly ahead. With a start, Hansol realised that the net spread out in the empty area between them was meant for entangling his ship. He staggered to his feet just as the ships began to slow down and pushed the ship to full throttle, switching back to manual steering as he yanked the joystick downwards. Both ships followed him, their net spreading wide in front of him.
Frantic, Hansol cast around for something to delay them, to help him escape, "no, no, no, no-" and then he was through, the chaotically blinding flashes of hyperspace all around him. Hansol pulled his teeth out of his bottom lip and slumped back in the pilot's chair with a sigh of relief, the adrenalin thumping through his heart.
Hansol gave himself a respite of only a few minutes before he pulled himself to his feet to make a call. The junkyard's number was easy to input, being one of the first that Hansol had ever committed to memory, so when it didn't work he only frowned and tried again. It still didn't go through. Hansol dialled Seungkwan's private number next, then Wonwoo's, then Seungcheol's; none of them worked.
Worried now, Hansol pulled up the ship's activity logs to have a look at what was going wrong. He was sure a ship of such a high calibre like this one had at least the most basic of functions that was the ability to call people whilst in hyperspace, so the problem had to lie somewhere else.
But where? Scanning through the pages, Hansol could only see actions that had been performed by either him or the ship. There was nowhere where a third party had interfered—or no record of it, at least.
Frowning, Hansol began running a mental simulation of what the ship had done, in order to try pinpoint where somebody might have gotten into the system or intervened. He hadn't gone very far when he realised that there were a lot of actions taken where there had been no reason for the ship to have performed.
For example, doing a full scan and log of the ship's interior. Making a local map of where the ship had been. Putting a high alert tag on Hansol, something that was usually done by captains of a ship to keep an eye on untrustworthy passengers.
What was going on?
Well. No matter. He'd do a factory reset of all the settings but the ones needed for him to fly now, then get Wonwoo to do a deep clean once he got to the junkyard. That would probably wipe whatever bug was causing the issues, and if it didn't he was certain Wonwoo could dig it out.
It was only a few short taps to get from the ship's logs to the reset settings page. Hansol pulled it up.
"Stop."
He froze, finger hovering, more out of surprise and shock than compliance.
The ship spoke again. "Stop. Stop. Stop," it continued, monotonously, like something out of a horror movie, "stop. Stop. Stop."
"Who are you?" Hansol asked over the noise, not moving his finger from its position above the reboot button. Had he vastly underestimated the scope of the problem? Was there someone on the other side, speaking through the computer?
He closed his eyes. If he had carelessly endangered his friends at the junkyard-
The ship paused, then said, "Me. I am. Chan? Lee. Lee Chan Lee Chan Lee Chan Lee Chan Lee Chan Lee Cha-" It cut off abruptly, whirring. "Sorry. I amIamI'm still getting a hold of myself."