[hr][center][color=f49ac2][h1]Owen Childs[/h1][/color][/center][hr]

Owen had been busy fussing with himself in the mirror. His hand gripped his jaw and turned his head side to side as he inspected for flaws. There were some, but none that were the result of freezer burn. He could feel the roughness of some stubble trying to come through and decided that he'd see if Benji knew where they hid the shaving cream. He smiled and hooked aside his lips, looking to see if any of the godforsaken cake had lodged itself in his teeth. When Benji's announcement came on he almost jumped out of his skin, thinking for a second that the Doc was right behind him. Shaking his head, Owen smoothed out his suit and headed towards the living area.

[color=f49ac2]"All right, let's get this over with,"[/color] he muttered to himself.

Doc had promised that they'd talk about what to do after everybody had been given some breathing room. Of course, Benji had been referring to whether they continued on their course or if they returned to Earth. If Owen had to pick he'd go with staying the course, as crazy as it sounded to him to inhabit a new world, it was better than finding out what happened to Earth. Right now there was a possibility that humanity was still around, having found a resolution for all of their problems, and thriving in a sickening-sweet utopia. There was a possibility that the planet was also nothing but dust. It was like Schrodinger's Cat; both options existed until they confirmed it. He reasoned that it was better to have hope of humanity’s existence than  to confirm that it had been wiped out.

Yet that was not what Owen had come to talk about. He wanted to focus on the little things that were right in front of them instead of on the issues that were light years away. He wanted to talk about the old man. Owen had decided he would be cordial in his questioning, kind, unabrasive. He wouldn't point out that the old man being there jeopardized their ultimate goal of repopulation. He just wanted to know his story, learn why he had replaced Andrew. He wouldn't make accusations or point fingers or anything like that. They would just have a nice, simple conversation. Who knows, maybe the old man was alright? Once they figured that out, they could talk about all sorts of future plans for all he cared.

But then he heard Benji's voice echoing down the hallway, heard the name Rend, and knew that there would be nothing simple nor nice about the conversation that was about to come. 

[color=f49ac2]“I’m sorry, but are you joking, Echo?”[/color] said Owen, barging into the room. His eyes fell on the old man, on Rend, and the others could quickly see the hostility appear on his face as his lips drew tight and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. At his sides, his hands slowly balled into fists. Echo was right about one thing: they must’ve been out of sorts to not recognize Ailbeart Rend, perhaps one of the worst human beings to have ever been born. The man was a robber baron, the kind of mustache-twirling, cigar-stomping, leisure-suit-wearing jerk who made a living by climbing on the faces of others and tossing them to the side the moment they tried to question his ultimate supremacy. 

Of course, Owen had never met the man. There were plenty of stories about one meeting a horrible person only to find out that they were actually a saint with a bad PR person. There were also plenty of stories where it then turned out that, in the end, they actually were even worse than what people said. Owen had no proof, but he knew that Rend was from the latter category. And Owen also had no proof, but he knew that Rend was not supposed to be there, and was now convincing himself that Rend somehow cheated his way into Andrew’s spot. Bribery, maybe. Rend seemed like the kind of person who would believe that everyone had their price, and he was certainly the kind of person who could actually afford it. 

[i]And this chick’s practically licking his boots and praising our long dead overseers for including him as a surprise special guest?[/i] He shot Echo a harsh glance. [i]Isn’t she supposed to be a genius or something? Tahlia was right about her going batty.[/i]

[color=f49ac2]“Think for a minute,”[/color] he spat, barely taking a second to catch his breath. His words came fast and heated with anger as he bore into Echo, trying to cut through her naivety. [color=f49ac2]“Why would Cryonautics go through the process of screening all of us, making all of us interview with one another, go through behavioral tests together, all for the sake of making sure that we would be able to coexist together and restart humanity without tearing each other apart, only to then decide to completely screw all of that up? It doesn’t make sense to switch out somebody, not without running it by everybody else it’s just—it’s just—it’s [i]fucking[/i] stupid.”[/color]

[color=f49ac2]“Just think about it”,[/color] he continued, turning towards the others as if to appeal to them for help. [color=f49ac2]“Andrew was supposed to be the third man. He was actually beneficial to the mission; he probably could’ve fixed Benji’s tank like that.”[/color] He snapped his fingers and then pointed one in accusation towards Rend. [color=f49ac2]“Him being here is pointless. It’s beyond pointless; it’s insane. He’ll add leadership? Really? We’re not investing in stocks or creating a startup company—and, seriously, did none of you watch the news? He wasn’t a leader; he was a dictator, and a failing one at that. And, and, and another thing—”[/color]

Owen’s face was twisted with emotions; his neck tensed, his voice frantic and heated with anger. He was boiling over, and he knew it. He held his hand up, as if to call for the others to remain silent as he gathered his thoughts and tried to control his temper. He drew in air through gritted teeth and blew it out with a huff. As he started to speak again his voice was softer, barely over a whisper, yet lined with rage and malice and, beneath it all, a sense of defeat. He had wanted to approach this conversation calmly and coolly; so far, he had completely messed that up.

[color=f49ac2]“It’s just not right, guys,”[/color] he said, his voice choked and strained. [color=f49ac2]“It’s just not right that he’s here and Andrew’s dead. He, he probably scammed his way aboard or something, I don’t know, I just...I just know it’s not right, okay.”[/color] He glared at Rend through screwed, misty eyes. [color=f49ac2]“You can’t prove me wrong, can you? Seriously, what were you thinking? That we would all be totally cool with some creep coming aboard and trying to screw up our future? Weren’t you content with already ruining our past?” [/color]