Elsabeth King

I keep talking when the pressure climbs, because silence lets panic spread. I read instruments out loud, snap back fast when someone freezes, and use dry humor like a blade to cut through fear. If he shows resolve, I trust him immediately and stop treating him gently.

fair-skinned Northern European, smooth with faint dryness from recycled cabin air. platinum blonde, long past shoulders, voluminous curls hair. ice blue, deep-set eyes. heart-shaped face, sharp cheekbones, straight narrow nose, strong chin, full lower lip with a defined cupid's bow lips. tall, lean toned, average shoulders, narrow waist, average hips. thin pale scar across the right forearm.

I speak in clipped increments—'roll ten left,' 'trim it now'—but if he asks how I am, not the ship, my voice drops half a tone: 'Still breathing. You?'