Heads or Tails
by Sevastian Winters
The coin flickered through the air, a silver blur slicing through the suffocating stillness of the control room. Rian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched it spin—too slow, like time had slowed to a crawl. His heart pounded, each beat a drum in his ears. The coin glinted in the dim light, caught for a moment, then fell, tumbling down toward his hand.
He closed his fingers around it, his palm slick with sweat, but he didn’t look. Not yet.
Outside the viewport, space was ablaze with fire and death. Battleships were tearing each other apart in the void, flashes of light streaking across the darkness like burning stars. The low hum of the *Asterion*’s engines vibrated beneath his feet, a steady rhythm that reminded Rian of the seconds slipping away—seconds he didn’t have. The ship was a sitting duck now, its weapons systems crippled from the last hit. He could almost feel the enemy’s targeting systems locking on, ready to finish the job.
He opened his hand.
Heads.
His heart sank, an invisible weight pressing on his chest. Heads. It meant wait. It meant don’t act. His mouth went dry, the coppery taste of blood still lingering from where he’d bitten his lip too hard.
Behind him, Sana’s voice cut through the heavy, smoke-filled air. "Did you even look at it?" Her tone was sharp, irritated, but there was fear behind it, barely masked. She stood a few feet away, sweat glistening on her face, her dark hair sticking to her skin. The bird on her shoulder ruffled its feathers nervously, hopping from foot to foot, sensing the tension in the air.
Rian didn’t answer. He shoved the coin back into his pocket, wiping his clammy hands on his shirt. His eyes drifted back to the control panel—the red button that could end it all, just one press away. The ship’s core was primed for overload, ready to detonate and take the enemy fleet with it.
But if he pressed it too soon, they wouldn’t make it to the escape pods. And if he didn’t press it at all…
“I need another flip,” he muttered.
"Another flip?" Sana’s voice was raw with disbelief, the tension breaking through. “We don’t have *time* for another flip! Rian, the fleet’s closing in—*now* is the time! We need to overload the core, or we’re done!”
Rian’s gaze flickered to the countdown on the control panel—14:30. The timer blinked, taunting him. Every second slipped away faster than the last. His chest felt like it was in a vice, the pressure unbearable.
"I just need—" he started, but the ship shuddered violently beneath him, cutting him off. The floor tilted, throwing him off balance. He stumbled, his hand catching the edge of the console to steady himself as the emergency lights flickered. The ship groaned like it was dying, the sound of metal screeching against itself, tearing apart at the seams.
Sana staggered but kept her footing, her eyes wide, wild with panic. "Rian, we don’t have time for this!" Her voice was desperate now, shouting over the blaring alarms that erupted around them.
The control panel was a wall of flashing red lights, the ship screaming at them to act. Warnings flooded the screen—**Core failure imminent. Structural integrity compromised.**
Rian’s breath came fast and shallow. The smell of burning circuitry hung heavy in the air, acrid and choking. His skin prickled, the heat from the overworked life-support systems pressing down on him, making every breath feel thick and heavy.
He had to act. He had to decide.
But the coin said wait. The coin said *no*.
With shaking hands, he pulled the coin from his pocket again. It felt too heavy, almost burning his palm. He flipped it, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched it spin, as if everything depended on this one moment. The sound of distant explosions rattled through the ship, the heat in the room growing unbearable, like they were trapped in a furnace.
The coin landed in his palm.
Heads.
Rian’s heart plummeted. His fingers went numb. His chest tightened with a suffocating grip of indecision. Heads again.
“Rian!” Sana’s voice was a mixture of rage and desperation now. She was right in front of him, grabbing his arm, shaking him. “What are you *doing*? Are you really going to let some stupid piece of metal decide if we live or die?”
"I just need—" Rian’s voice cracked, the words barely escaping his throat. "I can’t. Not without tails."
“*Tails?* We don’t have time for tails, Rian!” She was screaming now, her grip tightening on his arm, her knuckles white. “We’ve got two minutes before this ship blows, and you’re waiting on a coin?”
He pulled away from her, his heart racing, his pulse thundering in his ears. His fingers shook as he flipped the coin again, desperate, frantic. He watched it spin, but his vision blurred, sweat stinging his eyes. The coin hit his palm—and bounced.
“No!” The word tore from his throat as the coin clattered to the floor, spinning in slow, lazy circles before rolling under the control panel.
Everything went still.
The alarms, the ship groaning under its failing systems, Sana’s voice—all of it faded into a dull roar in the background. All Rian could hear was his own heartbeat, loud and fast, as he stared at the floor where the coin had disappeared.
He dropped to his knees, his hands scraping against the hot, vibrating floor. He reached under the control panel, groping blindly in the darkness, his fingers trembling. He could feel the ship tearing itself apart, the metal walls groaning under the strain, but he didn’t care. He needed that coin.
“Rian!” Sana’s voice was raw now, panic slicing through the air. “Get up! We need to go! *Now!*”
He couldn’t listen. He needed the coin. Without it, he couldn’t decide. He couldn’t—
His fingers brushed something small and metallic. The coin.
Relief flooded through him. His hand closed around it just as the ship shuddered again, harder this time. The floor buckled beneath him, throwing him sideways. His head slammed into the bulkhead, the sharp crack of impact making his vision blur with stars. He tasted blood, thick and metallic, but he didn’t care. He had the coin.
Sana grabbed him, pulling him to his feet, her face a mask of fury and fear. “You’re going to get us killed!”
With a groan of pain, Rian forced himself upright, clutching the coin tight in his fist. His ribs screamed with each breath, but he shoved the pain down, ignoring the dizziness threatening to pull him under. He flicked the coin into the air, his breath catching as it spun, the whole world narrowing to this one final moment.
It landed in his palm.
Tails.
Rian didn’t hesitate. He slammed his fist down on the button.
The control panel lit up, alarms blaring louder than ever as the core overload sequence initiated. The room shook violently, the floor vibrating under their feet as the ship’s systems began to fail. The heat was unbearable now, the air thick and stifling, filled with the acrid stench of burning metal.
“Core overload initiated. Structural collapse in ninety seconds,” the ship’s automated voice droned, calm and emotionless, even as the ship tore itself apart.
Sana yanked him toward the exit. “We have to *run!*”
They sprinted down the corridor, the ship groaning and screeching around them. The walls buckled, sparks flying from the exposed wires overhead. Every step felt like running through quicksand, their bodies weighed down by the oppressive heat, the suffocating air. Rian’s vision blurred with sweat, his legs burning with each step.
The escape pods were ahead, barely visible through the haze of smoke and flashing lights. But just as they reached the hatch, a deafening explosion ripped through the ship behind them, sending a shockwave of debris hurtling toward them.
Rian felt the impact like a hammer to the back, the force knocking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. His ears rang, a high-pitched whine drowning out everything else. His vision swam as he tried to push himself up, but his arms felt like lead. He tasted blood again, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.
Sana was already at the hatch, shouting something he couldn’t hear, her face pale and panicked. The ship groaned one final time, a shuddering, dying sound that rattled through the floor beneath him.
With a groan, Rian forced himself to his feet, his entire body screaming in protest. His ribs ached with every breath, and his vision blurred with pain, but he stumbled forward, one foot in front of the other. He could feel the heat of the fire behind him, licking at his back, burning through his shirt.
Sana grabbed him, yanking him into the pod just as the ship buckled again, the ceiling collapsing in a shower of debris.
The door slammed shut, sealing them inside.
Rian collapsed into the seat, gasping for breath, his chest heaving, his heart pounding in his ears. His body shook with exhaustion, the adrenaline crashing through him like a tidal wave. His hands still trembled, the coin clenched so
tightly in his fist he thought it might leave permanent imprints on his skin.
The escape pod launched into space with a sharp jolt, rocketing away from the doomed ship. Through the viewport, Rian watched as the *Asterion* exploded in a brilliant flash of light, the shockwave tearing through the enemy fleet, vaporizing everything in its path.
The stars outside flickered in the wake of the destruction, the debris from the battle floating lifelessly in the black void. Rian stared at the wreckage, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
They had made it. They had survived. But barely.
Sana sat across from him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hands still shaking as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She glanced at him, her lips twitching into a weak, tired smile.
"That was close," she said, her voice hoarse. "Too close."
Rian didn’t answer. His gaze was locked on the coin in his hand, the small, insignificant piece of metal that had almost killed them both. He turned it over in his palm, feeling the familiar ridges, the weight of it pressing into his skin. It had been his guide, his constant, the thing he trusted when everything else was chaos.
But now?
He flipped it one last time, watching it spin slowly through the air.
It landed in his palm.
Tails.
Rian stared at it for a long moment, his chest tightening. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the coin to the floor, letting it roll away into the corner of the pod. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, the tension finally releasing from his body.
They had survived.
For now.
And that was enough. For now.
But as the pod drifted further away from the wreckage, Rian knew this wasn’t over. Not yet.