“What do we do?” Is the question Rafe mutters paralysed by fear as he stares at the devastation around and before him, including that wrought upon their pilot Captain.
“Get a medic up here. Your pilot, your captain, needs it.”
“Yes Governor.” Is the confirmation which is uttered by Harriet.
“Where are we? What state are we in? Details, I need them now.” Those are the next words out of Samuel’s mouth. He’s fallen into the position of being the highest person of authority present. It reminds him of when decisions had needed to be made decades ago when he’d been a young man. That was back when he’d helped led the charge on Weaver being built. He’d forgotten how easy it was to command and how much he’s come to hate it.
The man he becomes in situations like these is not the man he wants to be. His emotions become shut off, his character changes entirely. It was what eventually drove him away from such responsibility. Yet, had he not returned to these habits upon running for and securing the role of Governor. Was it because it was a different role and had been secured in the wake of the losses of both his wife and daughter? At the time that is what he’d told himself. It seems it wasn’t true, though he truly believed it to be. So why did you become Governor? To keep busy, he admits.
He needed a distraction from his pain, his loss, the man he hated being but had revelled in shortly before the loss of his wife. He should have put her first. He hadn’t. She’d died from Rotcage and he hadn’t been there, at her side in her final moments of life. Sara had never forgiven him for that and it drove her to… He still can’t bring himself to say what it drove her to.
Coward! Now is not the time! There are more pressing concerns.
“Well, report. Now!”
“Yes Governor.” Is the reply afforded to him. He loves and loathes in equal measures. And is about to query for a third time when an off sounding response from Charlotte reaches his ears.
“Governor, you have to see this.” Her voice is breaking, shaking. He wouldn’t call it fear or panic. Truth-be-told he can’t quite put his finger on what it reminds him of. It’s familiar and foreign he realises as he fires back, “What is it? Don’t tell me we’re dead in the water, I can see that for myself. And if it’s about casualties or how far off course we might be then right now I couldn’t give a…”
Charlotte indicated to where she thought the Governor, Samuel Jenrick, needed to look once he got alongside her. Him having seen the reading is the reason for his trailing off, for he cannot believe what he is seeing. It can’t be possible and yet here it is in front of him, in plain clear text. There is no misinterpreting the reading, though he feels it cognisant to check, “Are you sure that’s correct?”
“I am Governor. It’s real.”
“Huh; my God. He did it, we’re saved.”