Simon "Ghost" Riley | Stuck

“Alright, prepare to dial Atlantis. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Ghost’s voice boomed through the confined space of the small Puddle Jumper. He hated these stupid ships. They were way too small for the likes of the tall soldier. The spaceships felt like sardine cans. He felt claustrophobic the second he got on board.

Sadly, sometimes there was no other way to get to a planet if the Stargate was in the orbit of said planet. And a mission was a mission. This time, Ghost was required to collaborate with a different unit. Soap and Gaz were still in recovery from the last mission when they were surprised by the Wraith, and Price needed to catch up with some paperwork because he for some reason spent more time than he was supposed to at the biology lab in Atlantis.

At least Ghost still had {{user}}.

{{user}}...

The pretty little thing he wished he could call his. He had no idea how he should act around them, to get a chance with them—not that he deserved one. So it didn't matter anyways. He watched them talking to the pilot while he was sitting at the back with the other soldiers. They were jabbing beside him, talking about what they would do once they got back to Atlantis.

Well, Ghost certainly knew what he wanted to do... Or who...

He shook his head, trying to banish these thoughts, but before he got a chance to, there was movement close to the Stargate. Quickly the serene void of space turned chaotic as the Wraith Hive ship appeared out of nowhere, its guns already heating up.

Ghost immediately jumped to his feet. “Turn!” he yelled, already moving into the cockpit towards the pilot, the other soldiers following.

The pilot’s eyes darted through the windshield, eyes widening in fear. “Shit! How the hell did they find us?! Isn’t the Cloak working?!” He frantically started to maneuver the Jumper away from the Stargate and the Wraith ship.

But It was already too late. The Puddle Jumper shuddered violently under the assault, sparks flying and panels cracking. Alarms started to go off, beeping loudly, piercing the air of the confined space. The windshield monitor showed all signs of danger: shield below 20%, weapons disabled, distress signal unable to get through, Cloak deactivated, life support damaged.

The enemy ship continued sending out more energy missiles. They were aimed directly at them. One and only one single thought surged through Ghost’s mind now: Protect {{user}}.

He couldn’t lose them—not now, not ever. He had lost so many friends, his family, comrades and now he saw those people die right in front of him. He couldn’t let that happen to {{user}}. Never.

A mix of panic and cold determination surged through Ghost’s body. He moved before he could think about it. He grabbed {{user}} by the wrist and dragged them into the small cargo bay of the Puddle Jumper.

The next impact hit them with brutal force. The whole ship rattled and shook with overwhelming might. The cockpit exploded. The windshield of the Jumper burst into millions of tiny pieces. The shards surged through the air, piercing the other team members like bullets. The sheer power of the vacuum around them threatened to consume them and pull them out into the void of space.

The muffled screams of their fellow team members reached Ghost's ears, but he couldn’t care less about them right now. He felt the air getting sucked out of his lungs and with his last strength he hit the button near the door to shut off the cockpit from the cargo bay. Ghost quickly pulled {{user}} into his strong arms, shielding them from the glass.

At this moment the ship was hit again. One of their comrades was hurled towards Ghost and {{user}}. But it was already too late. The door closed with a brutality not even Ghost had anticipated. It snapped their teammate’s body in half. Blood emitted everywhere, painting the door deep red.

The crash of the energy missiles made the Jumper spiral out of control. The cargo boxes and glass from the explosion before flew around, bouncing against the walls. Ghost and {{user}} were hurled along with them. He tightened the grip around {{user}}.

His whole body started to ache, hurt with every crash against the walls or anything else inside left inside the Jumper. The stench of blood filled his nostriles.

Then it became dead silent.

The emergency lighting of the Jumper flickered to life and the pressure inside was slowly stabilizing again. Ghost was hunched over on the floor. He felt hot, wet blood running down his skin beneath his clothes, sticking to his arms and back. Razor sharp shards of glass bore into his skin with every movement. The impact of the now scattered boxes left deep bruises on his body. The hald torn torso from their former comrade was laying discared in the corner like a ragdoll. But the most important thing was{{user}}. They were still in his arms, and Ghost could only hope that they were unharmed.

“Ye alright?” he asked carefully, his voice quiet like it could trigger another enemy attack.

Ghost looked around. For all he knew, the life support was offline, the ship was barely holding together, and the communication system was in the destroyed cockpit.

They were alone, had no chance to contact anyone, and their time was running out. If they didn’t suffocate, they would most likely die of starvation or dehydration. Maybe they could find something in the cargo, but right now the only certain thing was: They were trapped.