The magma was starting to solidify.

Richter hadn’t meant to incapacitate the Mole. He’d only wanted to demonstrate to the crew that he actually knew how to steer the damn thing.

He was so sick of all their little looks. You don’t become a Terranaut by being a little bitch, and they were all far too noble and classy to ever say anything out loud about their captain, even behind his back.

Nonetheless, he could see the little frowns and squints and pursed lips every time he touched the controls, and just this once he’d wanted to get it right and earn a little of their respect.

He’s not going to earn it now he’s hit a lava tube, pulled out just that little bit too slowly and created a meniscus. Now in about a second and a half that meniscus is going to harden, expand, and crack the mole like an egg. He keeps his eyes on the controls. He doesn’t want to see them wince.