A/N: This can probably be interpreted as canon though, at this point in the timeline, Crow wouldn't have the name "Crow" yet since this is before his forced employment to the Spider.
Crow sat huddled in the corner of his jumpship as a red light flashed on the console. The small space was filled with the sound of a repeating alarm, spelling out inevitable demise. He tried his best to ignore the warnings, but there was no way to escape them.
The ship wasn't moving. Dead in the water, as it were. Something had malfunctioned while they were in orbit above the Reef. He wasn't sure which one and now it no longer mattered because one failure had led to another, compounding into total engine death. Now all the ship could do was broadcast redundant warnings about the failed life support system.
Despite his inexperience as a Guardian, Crow was no stranger to dying. He had died before, mostly at the hands of outraged Guardians in the Dreaming City. But those deaths had been relatively quick, sped along by Light or weapons.
Suffocation was a slow, horrible way to die. And even worse in this case because he knew there was nothing he could do to prevent it. It was all he could do to sit still and try not to panic, knowing that panicking would use up more oxygen.
The only witness to his slow march toward death was Glint. His Ghost had scanned for the cause of the engine failure but hadn't been able to determine the exact cause, eventually putting it down to age. The ship was an older model, after all, more prone to breaking down and not as equipped to handle the resulting emergencies.
Crow could feel Glint's distress seeping through the bond, mingling with his own. He knew the Ghost felt terrible about not being able to do anything but sit and watch as his Guardian died. He wanted to comfort him, but couldn't summon the energy to do much aside from sending reassurance through the bond.
Talking would waste oxygen.
The worst part about it was not knowing how much time he had left. Any breath at this point could be his last. The thought sent his heart racing and he closed his eyes, restricting himself to slow breaths as he tried to calm down.
Glint would bring him back when he died. He knew that. But nothing about his situation would change. He would still be stuck in a dead ship with no oxygen. He would suffocate over and over with no way out.
"Is there any way I can get to the Reef?" he asked his Ghost through the bond.
The Reef was the closest place to him at the moment, despite how much he'd rather not go back there.
"The ship won't be able to move without the engine," said Glint miserably.
"What about if we crash it?" Crow was scrambling for anything at this point. Anything that would spare him from endless deaths. "Is there a way we could propel it into the asteroids?"
Glint's shell wavered back and forth as he considered it. "Maybe…" A spark of hope tentatively brightened his voice. "We'd have to give it a lot of momentum, that's for sure. A little might go a long way in space, but we don't want it to take years. "
"Could we blow the back of the ship?" Crow suggested, "The remaining air would give us a boost."
"It might work, but what would we use? It would have to be strong enough to punch through the hull."
"I've seen Guardians make grenades with their Light before," Crow pointed out.
"You're right!" Glint realized, sounding more hopeful by the minute, "But you'd have to make a lot of them to get through the hull."
"I can do it," he said determinedly.
"If it doesn't work, you'll be compromising your ship for nothing," his Ghost warned.
"The ship's already compromised," Crow retorted, "There's nothing else I can do besides try to reach the Reef… You've been around Guardians longer than I have. Tell me how to make the grenades."
Glint sighed, but agreed to coach him through the process. "You need to focus on your Light," he said, "Feel it within you. Feel the energy."
Crow nodded, closing his eyes. He knew the Light had to be within him somewhere. The Traveler wouldn't have chosen him otherwise. He looked within, grasping for the power.
"Once you feel it, imagine it taking the shape of a grenade. Trip mines would work the best. Focus on the shape and when you have it solidified in your mind, call to the Light."
Crow felt the power of the Light just below the surface, flickering and writhing like a living flame. He reached for the flame and poured it into the shape of a trip mine grenade, glowing with fiery power. It sat there just beyond his grasp.
All at once, he surged forward and took it, feeling the Light respond.
When he opened his eyes, a trip mine sat in his hand, the metal warm to the touch. He grinned in triumph. "Glint, I did it!"
"Good job!" his Ghost cheered, "I knew you could do it!"
Crow got to his feet and walked to the back of the ship to plant the trip mine. Once it was set, he retreated to begin creating more.
It took time to form the trip mines out of his Light. With each one that he created, he felt a bit more tired as the energy drain took its toll, making each subsequent trip mine slightly harder to form.
It didn't help that his chest had begun to feel tight, his breaths coming shorter and faster. He tried his best to resist the urge, knowing that it was an effect of his brain's desperation for more oxygen, but it was difficult.
Eventually, he tried and failed to create another trip mine, the Light pool within his body thoroughly exhausted.
Crow shook his head. "That's all I can do… I hope it's enough."
"Me too," said Glint.
Crow stumbled to the front of the ship, sinking into the pilot's seat with utter exhaustion. He turned his heavy eyes to the Reef below, hoping beyond hope that the plan would work.
"Alright Glint," he said, "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," the Ghost replied nervously. Darting forward, he transmatted something into Crow's hand. "Here. Use this to set off the mines."
Glint vanished into phase as Crow examined what he'd been given. It looked like a bolt of some kind. Hopefully, it would be enough to trigger the mines.
Despite knowing the futility, Crow took one last deep breath, savoring what little air passed through his lungs. Drawing his hand back, the chucked the bolt into the back of the ship, straight into the nest of trip mines.
Logically, one mine would have had to detonate first, setting off the others, but all Crow heard was one collective explosion. It rocked the ship, scorching the inside and throwing him into the console. Then he felt a rush as the remaining air was expelled into the vacuum of space, tearing out of his lungs and throwing the ship forward.
Crow felt himself coughing and gasping, but no relief came. There was nothing left for him to breathe. His chest grew tighter and tighter as his body went into panic mode, darkness encroaching on his vision.
The last thing he was aware of before he was lost to nothingness was thinking that at least he would be dead before the crash.