He mumbles but all the same grabs the fellow passenger’s arm, non-plussed and already bored of sand, sand everywhere. No communication. No broken bones. No idea which horizon will lead them to more monsters or the glimmer given by the officer’s coordinates, formerly attainable from his wristlink . Shame the wristlink is currently digesting in the belly of their attacker.
‘Help me move this thing off its side, will you?’
‘The barge - it’s kaput. Fixable, but,’ Established with the kick of his boot and the hollow vibration of dust chortling out of the generator. ‘needs a little convincing.’
He’d taken the barge originally because stealth was a more important factor than time; after all he couldn’t very well fly in and attract loads of undue attention. Word is quick to get around, especially around these parts. Look at the state it is in now though. Stealth is one thing, but waiting to get this up and running? That’s too much time to lose, and immensely more than he could afford.
A frown mars his forehead at the estimated time needed to fix this and he weights the advantages and disadvantages of the current option and the other, finally settling on a decision even as he helps the other with the barge.
