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

After changing, Owen found himself drawn to the infirmary. He wasn’t completely aware of his true intentions as his polished shoes clacked down the hallway and paused in front of the doorway. Was he looking for Benji in hopes of catching the doctor alone to give him a piece of his mind? Unlikely. He didn’t want to open up that can of worms now, knowing himself well enough that he’d start flinging accusations at the skittish doctor that would be more harmful for the man’s already fragile psyche. Tahlia, then? No, he didn’t even want to be in the same room as her. Not now, at least. Maybe he was hoping to find Yaz? After his talk with Echo, he was quickly becoming convinced that she might be the only other person on board that classified as whatever his definition of normal meant, if being normal was even possible. But what would they even talk about?

When the door slid open with a soft whoosh and a weight came off of Owen’s shoulders when he saw Rend, strapped down but breathing (thanks to the very kind of machines the man seemed to hate), he knew why he had come. He had wanted to make sure that the man was still alive, that in his absence Doc or Tahlia hadn’t done something horrible. Although, would it be horrible to silently end the old man’s life? After all, he had cheated his way onto the ship, he had acted irrationally, he had pulled the gun, he had intended to hurt or even kill Tahlia. What did he add to the crew except danger and uncertainty? What would he offer to a new world? What value did he—Owen shook his head. He didn’t have the right to assign value to a person; that was something Rend would do. He stood over Rend now, his arms folded over his chest as his eyes studied the catatonic man.

[i]Something a leader would do,[/i] he thought with a thin smirk on his face, his mind drifting back to his conversation with Echo. [i]Probably why this jerk pulled a gun. He knew right away how worthless it is to put any effort in this stupid charade.[/i]

[color=f49ac2]“It’s going to come up sooner or later,”[/color] he said, looking the ventilator up and down. [color=f49ac2]“Of what we should do with you, I mean. Obviously, we can’t just let bygones be bygones. We aren’t idiots. I like to think that we aren’t idiots. We could just lock you up somewhere. Give you three hots and a cot until you croak from old age. Although, knowing you, you’d probably live to be a hundred or something. The mean ones always do. We’d probably run out of food by then.”[/color]

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his glasses bobbing up and down as he did so. [color=f49ac2]“We could freeze you again.”[/color]

Could they? From his talks with Echo, it sounded like the freezing process was more dangerous than any of them had been told. Likewise, didn’t it require some kind of micro-bio-whatever pills to work? And assuming they even had those lying around (which he doubted), why shouldn’t they just let the computer run its course and the five of them, minus Rend, jump back in the ice lockers? [i]Because then we’d still be killing you, even if it was just by negligence.[/i]
 
He looked at the ventilator again. How easy it would be to just unplug it. Wasn’t leadership doing the things that nobody else wanted to do, but that had to be done? He eyed the machine,not knowing what to look for but knowing that if he pulled and pushed enough things on it that eventually it’d stop working. Nobody would have to worry about these decisions. He stepped around the bed to get a closer look at the machine. Nobody would know. He reached out and placed his hand on top of it, only to pull away as if he had been burned. He could never do that. He’d know. That’s all that mattered.

[color=f49ac2]“I should just learn to keep my mouth shut,[/color] he said, turning away from the old man.

He had made it to the doorway when Tahlia’s voice came to life over the intercom and informed them all of their possible end. He felt his heart sink into his stomach as he chuckled to himself, realizing that he had been right all along when he had half-joked about some kind of space junk smashing them into oblivion. So mankind would be doomed after all despite their efforts. Well, of course that’s how it would be. Of course. A random, pointless end to a random, pointless footnote in the annuals of life. Fitting that he’d die in a room with somebody he hated, on a ship with four other people who were still virtually strangers. [i]You got a messed up sense of humor, big guy,[/i] he thought as he leaned against the wall, ready for some big-budget impact to completely obliterate him in a slow, fiery explosion over a score written in the minor key played.

None of that happened. A slight shift, a twist in his stomach, a pop in his ear, and then Tahlia’s voice came back over the intercom. Owen let go of a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding as a wave of relief overcame him. His first thought was that it had all been some cruel, sick joke by Tahlia, but he knew that was impossible. First of all, he had felt something—the bizarre discomfort wasn’t only something he had whipped up with his imagination. Secondly, he knew that Tahlia wasn’t the kind to play practical jokes. He jammed his finger on the button to the door and pushed out of it, almost running, as he made his way to the cockpit. 

[color=f49ac2]“Tahlia, what’s happening?”[/color] he demanded as he walked into the room. Yaz and Echo were there; Benji was not. He frowned. As bizarre of an idea that it was, he couldn't shake the feeling that whenever Benji wasn’t around things often went from bad to worse. [color=f49ac2]“And where’s Doc?”[/color]