#simon navigated

Simon froze. Did he not mention that? Shit. Information was slowly bleeding out of him, and regardless of the debt he owed, Simon was having a hard time not panicking at the valuable resource he was steadily sharing. Simon had wanted to keep his violence tightly contained, his crimes hidden from the crew. He tensed, hoping they wouldn’t connect the role with the word Butcher, that they wouldn’t think too hard about what Simon had to do as a soldier or what war he was fighting. 

Information was the only thing he had to vouch for his survival.

If he proved to be useless, they wouldn’t keep him. If he didn’t help with the mission, they could let the Eridians take him to their planet. Ryland trusted them, but Simon knew that they wouldn’t just let him live on Erid in peace, not without the Savior of their world protecting him. Simon hated needing protection, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he had any power over this situation. He was at the complete mercy of Ryland and the Eridians, and if he wasn’t good, then he needed to be useful. Simon was trying to be both, but the well of useful information he’d gathered was slowly drying up.

But if he had a role, if he could do something, then Simon would feel more secure in his place here. He just had to earn it.  

Simon swallowed. “...I piloted smaller flighters. Nowhere near as fancy as this, but I was good at what I did. I’ve been watching how you do it. I think I can do it with one arm, if you take notes. We… could switch.”

“I… dunno,” Ryland exhaled. “It’s pretty tricky to fly this thing. It took me a long time to figure out.”

“I’ve flown in space before, and I didn’t need any fancy shit to do it either,” Simon huffed and then took a steadying breath, “Look- you’re tired, no point in arguing it- I’m bored out of my mind and I know how to do this. Let’s switch. I know we move it 100 clicks out, then you gotta redo the search grid before we do this all over again. 360 turn, stop, angle it up 5 degrees, 18 planes- I’ve been paying attention.”

“I didn’t think you hadn’t,” Ryland protested. “It’s easier to watch than do.”

“If I suck, I won’t ask again,” Simon said. “I know you have no reason to trust m-”

“It’s not that!” Ryland said, “I just-”

He looked over at Rocky and Adrian and stopped. He let out a long sigh and raised his eyebrows at them.

“It is Grace’s ship. Rocky cannot decide.”

“Adrian wants to see Simon fly ship,” Adrian said. That’s why they were his favorite. Simon gestured to them and then gave an expectant look to Ryland. 

“So?” Simon prompted, unable to keep the hope from fluttering in his chest. 

“Alright,” Ryland sighed. “It's hard to get the hang of, so if it doesn't work out, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with being a note taker-”

Simon grinned and unbuckled his seatbelt. He drifted in zero gravity, angling toward Ryland’s seat. Much more reluctantly Ryland started to unbuckle, and Simon clasped his shoulder amicably. “You won’t regret this.”

Ryland jolted at the touch at the same time he released the claps on his seatbelt, wobbling a bit like he had forgotten how to move in zero gravity. 

“Right! Uh, yeah, I mean, no, sure, give it go!” Ryland stumbled. “Hopefully the flighters you piloted have comparable mechanisms-”

Simon tuned him out. He was thrumming with excitement as they switched places. The throttle was warm and sweaty, but Simon didn’t care. It was smooth and sleek and new. It was the nicest cockpit he’d ever been inside, nowhere near the rust buckets Eden and COI had. He couldn’t contain the smile twitching at his lips as he took a steadying breath to calm his nerves. Don’t screw this up.