ataraxion | [ 6 ] [ video ] less derring-do than quiet care

[ The really interesting thing about this video broadcast is the fact that it's not actually coming from inside the Tranquility. Hotspur's in the pilot seat of the first shuttle - the one he affectionately named Faith all those months ago back when they all first arrived. His face is lit by the soft glow of the avionic displays in front of him and he sits back from the controls, slack-handed and staring with thick pre-occupation out of the shuttle windows instead.

His comms device - propped up on the co-pilots seat beside him - offers a profile view of Hotspur's features... and beyond him, a bit of the outer hull of the Tranquility suspended against the backdrop of deep space.

Red-eyed, ashen-faced... Hotspur's clearly hasn't been sleeping very well. Being the robust, brick-outhouse sort of fellow that isn't prone to negativity it usually takes a hell of a lot to make him feel less than 100% of his usual awesomeness but here we are. His expression is pained and with one hand he absently fidgets with the loose-hanging metal dogtags that fall around his neck. He doesn't speak up immediately but when he does it's a distant murmur. ]

...Full of them. Even the bad ones.

[ It's an off-hand comment more to himself than the video feed running live beside him. But then, as if only just remembering that it was recording, he seems to pull himself together and turn his head to address the comms device directly. ]

Look, I know not everyone out here's got much time for talk about the Gods and religion and all that but for those folk that do...

[ He pauses and exhales a brief sigh; this little crisis of faith is turning out to be pretty damn painful and he briefly struggles to hunt down the right words to express what he wants to ask. ]

Well. I'm kind of strugglin' to see how this whole... adventure fits in with whatever it is the Gods have got in store for me. For us all. I mean, it's not that I don't have faith that They know what's best, I... I just --

[ He pauses again and his gaze travels wildly around the cockpit until it fixates on the massive hull of the Tranquility beyond the shuttle's screen. ]

I'm not really sure if demons and possessions and all that is just a really really effective test of faith or that maybe we're all just a little bit too far away for the Gods to help us.

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Well, work started on Spirit as soon as we got on board so that's, what, six months? We've made a start on the next one but they're all in worse condition than Spirit was... It's not pretty.

Think you know what happened to them?

The shuttles? [ He shakes his head. ] I'm not flight technician. As far as I can tell it's just... general disrepair. I've just focused on trying to get them up and running again.

Why, do you know anything about flight tech?

What I know is that there are things on this ship that are damaged in ways I can't figure out. [Like the bridge.] And I know it takes a lot of general disrepair to leave a shuttle needing six months work to get flying again.

You've never tried to get a shuttle made of foreign tech back up to a flight-worthy standard in the middle of deep space, have you? [ Hotspur fixes Riddick with a skeptical look over the feed. ] Given that there isn't an astronatuical engineer amongst us I'd say six months for a flightworthy shuttle is pretty good, really. I reckon some of that damage could have been patched up in no time if we had the specialist folk to deal with it.

Done something like that.

[There was no standardisation of tech in his universe - being a good pilot meant adapting to whatever ship you found yourself in, and in Riddick's usual situations, it meant doing that fast. But that hadn't been his point, and his tone turns lighter.]

Not criticising your work, Hotspur. Something happened here, and there's a difference between disrepair and damage.

Yeah, something.

[ Hotspur's single moment of affront has passed and he glances away again, echoing the other man's words distractedly. ]

Hey, you know the spooky thing? All of the flight suits from the previous pilots are still in their lockers. Just left. No real sign of damage, or anything. [ a pause. ] Then again, no disrepair either.

Put it on the list. Plenty of spooky shit on this ship.

[He doesn't sound surprised. A pause, and then, curious,]

Ever done something like this before?

[Not the waking up in a different universe covered in blue goo, but the empty ship. Abandoned drifters weren't all that strange, where Riddick was from, but the Tranquility still had two crew who seemed set on keeping their heads down and their mouths shut - and keeping the ship running, instead of taking the working shuttle and leaving. None of it sat right, at all.]

[ 6 ] [ video ] less derring-do than quiet care

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