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Type: Text It happened again. Third time in the last... however long it's been. I came in after shift and found Rousseau at the transmitter again. They looked like hell. I don't know if they'd even slept since the last time I caught them in here. Not very reassuring to see the Chief Engineer in that state. Rousseau didn't hear me come in, so this time I just listened. They were talking to the relay crew again. Talking, then listening... they even laughed. God - how long's it been since anyone on this fucking ship laughed? I know I should say something to Engineering. I've already told Rousseau, over and over, that we don't have a comms relay crew. That the array is broken beyond repair. That no one is coming to save us. And they listen, but it's like they can't keep those thoughts in their head. As if it's too much. I get it. Everything on this ship is too much. So this time, I just let them talk. If a broken transmitter and a mic full of static gives them something to hold onto - maybe even helps them keep this ship running a little longer - who am I to judge? And yeah... maybe I've talked into the same transmitter myself once or twice after hours. Just in case. Like that poem says - hope sings the tune without the words, and never stops. At all. |
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