New Horizons: Grounded Sky

CHAPT. 7: DIRECTIONS

https://open.spotify.com/track/5DH1vidFEjKOWjpwEoI8CS?si=MY4nveNrSjCVCVdewwJQdg&context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A37i9dQZF1DX1n9whBbBKoL

DESTINATION: N/A

TIMESTAMP: 5:61

"Esmire to Lemma, WAKE UP!"

He shuffled over to knock on the metal of her chest with an indignant huff.

There was a certain demand to Griffon's tone that Venturi felt was...highly inappropriate. Poking at Lemma after the Captain's sacrifice; it just felt wrong. In any other situation, he would have shoved Griffon out of the airlock himself if there was one. But now it just felt wrong. He needed help waking the navigator, and Lemma was their only chance.

"Why won't she ju—"

"Griffon!" Venturi interjected.

"Give it a rest. I agree it's frustrating, but we can try again later. In the meantime, could you wake the others?"

Griffon had almost turned to shout to the crew but Venturi caught his arm.

"Griffon... do it politely."

He gawked over his shoulder and sauntered off into the rear cabin radiating 'don't touch me' energy. Venturi shrugged it all off yet again. at least his stuck up face was pointed with a COMPLIANT sneer this time. Power struggles seemed to have become a routine over the course of the last two days. Ever since the paragon was vaporized, they had all been adrift in space with no contacts, no knowledge of their location, little collaboration from the crew.

Although a darker part of Venturi wanted to eject Griffon out of the ship, he knew there was more to the thorny protogen than his incessant need to be right. Tossing him out wasn't by any means what the Captain would have wanted either.

Risha had managed to move him up to the head of the weapons department on good terms. How they had managed to get him to that position without a bruised ego incident, Venturi didn't know. Well, now he would simply need to manage himself. Darn opportunists. Then again, wasn't the whole crew all opportunists trying to survive right now?

Venturi wasn't afraid to do what he must regarding the crew's safety... Or sanity for that matter.

He shut the airlock divider between the cockpit and the drop bay quietly, as to not disturb the mishmash of passengers. The pilot circled around to the command seat with soft careful steps, knelt down by the dormant yellow protogen, and tapped on Lemma's visor.

"It's ok, he's gone"  Venturi whispered into the front-most set of her ears.

"We need your help."

Unsurprisingly, Lemma didn't move an inch. Heck, the only sign he had that she was still alive was the faint heave of her lungs every twelve seconds. He figured Lemma was on some kind of forced stasis; most likely from emotional or system overload. Tiny letters marched their way across her visor, repeating twice as they read:

"not now, Later."

And then they went blank like the rest of her.

Venturi eased back on his haunches for a moment before nodding slowly. He switched to digital coms, as to not disturb Lemma's state of heartbroken rest.

/][You can rest Lemma, just let us know when you're able to help][\

Just then, a harsh knock rapped away at the airlock behind him. Venturi sighed before easing back into his flight seat. He Flicked a navigation power switch or three, before he craned his neck in the direction of the door behind him.

It slid open immediately, bringing with it the sound of mumbling synthetic voices and the quite hum of a dormant engine. He had assumed it was Griffon again, but then he noticed the claws that gripped the door were a frosty white-blue.