[The station's a hollowed out shell, empty of even it's usual trail of casual visitors and refugees from far-future realities who can't sit too comfortably in the backward backwaters below. Of course, Richie makes straight for stasis, which means not checking any rooms, but there's an echoey feel to the place. The engines hum, just not as reassuringly as they once did.
And there's someone waiting in the stasis room which - given the speed with which Richie made the decision to race up there - has to be a feat. And it is, in a way.
Prior arrived before the transmission started. He was following a pull toward the pod chambers when Darma's voice broke through static in the halls around him and was standing in the doorway Richie's just thrown himself through as she was cut off. As the lights stuttered.
He's a few paces further in now, back to the door, listening. A hand raises - not quite greeting, but encompassing stop and calm the fuck down in one motion's harder than it should be.]
All's quiet on the Western Front. [His own voice is quiet, almost dreamy, though he's entirely present.] They're not going to wake.
THESA
And there's someone waiting in the stasis room which - given the speed with which Richie made the decision to race up there - has to be a feat. And it is, in a way.
Prior arrived before the transmission started. He was following a pull toward the pod chambers when Darma's voice broke through static in the halls around him and was standing in the doorway Richie's just thrown himself through as she was cut off. As the lights stuttered.
He's a few paces further in now, back to the door, listening. A hand raises - not quite greeting, but encompassing stop and calm the fuck down in one motion's harder than it should be.]
All's quiet on the Western Front. [His own voice is quiet, almost dreamy, though he's entirely present.] They're not going to wake.
[Yet.]