[ their time is dwindling, and Herc is fully aware they're closing in on it. their team is starting to suffer, breathing coming bated and fatigue starting to wear on the weakest of them.
Herc pushes on because it's the only thing he knows how to do. because he has rangers, and a son, to get back to. he has Max to take care of, because as kind as everyone's been to look out for the pup, Herc isn't the kind to shuffle off responsibility.
he's catching a breath when, selfishly, he opens an audio channel with his son. ]
Found the source. Heh— You thought Leatherback was ugly.
[ it's quieter, the second day. there's a possibility that this is because they've all bunkered down. that everyone's got a plan of action and the chaos has devolved- into something functional if not manageable. chuck is resolutely not thinking about it.
or at least- it's started that way. he's not sure what it is now.
there's a croak to his voice when he answers, rough with disuse. ]
[he doesn't like hearing that, the rough cadence to his kid's voice. Herc tips his head back against the wall, an illusion of rest, when he's still hyper alert— even in a relatively safe area]
Gotta bunch of those suckers breathing poison into the air. Got the goddamn kraken plugging up all the lines.
[ there comes a time maybe for every ranger, when they see the next target, or they hear the latest specs, and some part of them just wants to say no. not because they're afraid and not because they think they can't win (those are separate awarenesses and need to be sifted out) but because there should be some goddamn limits on what's believable.
and it's easier for chuck to think about that than to hear the ragged inhale his father's chest makes and to count the spaces inbetween them. just to be sure. ]
A kraken? [ and it sounds like are you sure when they both know what he means is you've gotta be fucking kidding me ]
You betcha. Tentacles and all. Gonna take some work to get all those limbs off.
[ he laughs again, a wheezing, breathy sort of sound that means he doesn't really find it hilarious so much as wildly unbelievable and does he really need to deal with this crap. he exhales, then, more of a sigh. ]
[ it's a mutter because he has to say something. because he has no idea where to start with a goddamn tentacle monster on a goddamn zombie infested ship in goddamn outer space. because he needs to say something to disguise the wheeze of his old man's voice and the reminder that there's poison in the air he's sucking into his lungs. chuck feels it the way he feels the drift sometimes. every now and again he's sure that the air is thinner. that his chest doesn't fill up the way it's supposed to. ]
[ he doesn't say i doubt he would've helped because, while it's true, Herc has never been one to discount his resources. that's one less person who knows what's going on around here. it's one more civilian that's been taken by this galactic war they had no business being a part of. there was nothing they could do about that man now, so it was time to soldier on. ]
[ there is a novel there, and always is. in the lines between what they are and what they say against the backdrop of a lifetime of silences. the silence of the unknown, the silence of regret, silence of anger and betrayal and disappointment and hurt and loss. there are few things that have ever defined the hansens so entirely.
the unsaid, or a fistfight. each a precurser to the other.
in the background, there's a clattering of metal. a click snap. chuck is reloading. ]
Workin' on it. [ there's a resignation to his tone, uncharacteristic of the boy by simple virtue of what it means. (acceptance has never been given out freely) ]
[ a thin thread of radio contact doesn't even come close to being a small comfort. when you drift with someone, something ties you together, makes you hyperaware of their presence. it isn't always something that happens after one, or even two, neural handshakes. but years?
the last time Herc had conversed with his boy over an intercom, he'd heard him die. Mori needs t'be priority he says, because they're a team and they focus on the job. it's how their relationship has been strung along since scissure ripped their world apart. Herc won't ask if he's alright, just like Chuck won't admit to being compromised. ]
[ it isn't ratting her out, because it's only a matter of time. because they're in the same boat and there's no base to send her back to if it gets out of control. they're in this, come hell or high water. ]
Compromised. [ chuck says instead- which says explains as much as it doesn't. ]
[ you can't tell? isn't something he asks, because their ghost drift is tenuous, a thin thread that while existent had been severed when his boy died, reestablished when they arrived. ]
Would be lying if I said I wasn't hearing things I have no business hearing. I've heard the same from others around here.
[ chuck feels it there even when he doesn't want to- but the drift, that echo isn't something he can latch on to. not here and not now because he knows where it'll go and pentecost is already watching him, from the opposite end of the hall.
it's too hard to tell the difference between what's real and what's not. all he can smell is blood. ]
[ he's quiet for a moment, and he doesn't say it's because you're dead, son because they both know it's true. for all of them who had gone on when Chuck had detonated the payload— ]
Noted.
[ because it means it's possible Herc might see him, too. ]]
[ she spoke to you, she knows it isn't real he says. chuck's gaze cuts to the side. his mother's voice crawls up his spine and hums in his head for a handful of heartbeats- but it feels like it stretches on forever. it's his fault, it's his fault this happened. i'm dead and you're alive. why are you alive baby? he swallows, shakes his head. squares his shoulders. why are you alive ranger hansen. ]
Got it.
[ she knows it isn't real, he said. chuck listens to the drum of his own pulse until he can't hear them anymore, and he wonders how long any of them will be able to be sure. ]
[ there's a silence there Herc, look what you did. how could you let our boy die? that Herc knows and he straightens his shoulders, doesn't glance to his left where there's a ghost of a woman watching him with piercing eyes. ]
On point.
[ he says, as much to Chuck as himself, because one of them had to keep them on target while the other came out swinging ]
( w5. d2 | audio )
Herc pushes on because it's the only thing he knows how to do. because he has rangers, and a son, to get back to. he has Max to take care of, because as kind as everyone's been to look out for the pup, Herc isn't the kind to shuffle off responsibility.
he's catching a breath when, selfishly, he opens an audio channel with his son. ]
Found the source. Heh— You thought Leatherback was ugly.
( w5. d2 | audio )
or at least- it's started that way.
he's not sure what it is now.
there's a croak to his voice when he answers, rough with disuse. ]
What is it.
( w5. d2 | audio )
Gotta bunch of those suckers breathing poison into the air. Got the goddamn kraken plugging up all the lines.
( w5. d2 | audio )
and it's easier for chuck to think about that than to hear the ragged inhale his father's chest makes and to count the spaces inbetween them. just to be sure. ]
A kraken? [ and it sounds like are you sure when they both know what he means is you've gotta be fucking kidding me ]
( w5. d2 | audio )
[ he laughs again, a wheezing, breathy sort of sound that means he doesn't really find it hilarious so much as wildly unbelievable and does he really need to deal with this crap. he exhales, then, more of a sigh. ]
What's going on over there?
( w5. d2 | audio )
[ it's a mutter because he has to say something. because he has no idea where to start with a goddamn tentacle monster on a goddamn zombie infested ship in goddamn outer space. because he needs to say something to disguise the wheeze of his old man's voice and the reminder that there's poison in the air he's sucking into his lungs. chuck feels it the way he feels the drift sometimes. every now and again he's sure that the air is thinner. that his chest doesn't fill up the way it's supposed to. ]
Found head'a medical.
He's dead.
( w5. d2 | audio )
Any progress in gettin' the hell out of dodge?
( w5. d2 | audio )
the unsaid, or a fistfight. each a precurser to the other.
in the background, there's a clattering of metal. a click snap. chuck is reloading. ]
Workin' on it. [ there's a resignation to his tone, uncharacteristic of the boy by simple virtue of what it means. (acceptance has never been given out freely) ]
Mori needs t'be priority. [ once we're out. ]
( w5. d2 | audio )
the last time Herc had conversed with his boy over an intercom, he'd heard him die. Mori needs t'be priority he says, because they're a team and they focus on the job. it's how their relationship has been strung along since scissure ripped their world apart. Herc won't ask if he's alright, just like Chuck won't admit to being compromised. ]
Injuries?
( w5. d2 | audio )
Compromised. [ chuck says instead- which says explains as much as it doesn't. ]
( w5. d2 | audio )
[ he frowns, takes a wheezing breath as he straightens up from the wall. ]
Think it might be somethin' in the air. It's effectin' people all across the board.
( w5. d2 | audio )
( w5. d2 | audio )
Would be lying if I said I wasn't hearing things I have no business hearing. I've heard the same from others around here.
( w5. d2 | audio )
it's too hard to tell the difference between what's real and what's not.
all he can smell is blood. ]
She's seein' me.
( w5. d2 | audio )
Noted.
[ because it means it's possible Herc might see him, too. ]]
She spoke to you, she knows it isn't real.
We'll round up when this shit's dealt with.
( w5. d2 | audio )
Got it.
[ she knows it isn't real, he said. chuck listens to the drum of his own pulse until he can't hear them anymore, and he wonders how long any of them will be able to be sure. ]
( w5. d2 | audio )
On point.
[ he says, as much to Chuck as himself, because one of them had to keep them on target while the other came out swinging ]