Yeah, I’ve had days like that, too.
Galaxion
Life. Love. Hyperspace.
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Site design by Tara Tallan, implemented by FrumphPowered by WordPress with ComicPress
Not hard at all. One small insect sting ought to do the trick.
Oh… about as hard as fixing the ship, jumping back to the parallel universe, landing, and walking in without being clobbered or stung.
Seriously, though, Scavina… probably not the best idea right now. I can feel Fusella’s eyeroll from here.
I love it how the character interaction in panel 4-6 is expressed visually as well as in dialog.
The body language meshes very well with the dialogue.
I just realized Zan probably never saw much of the power dynamics between the Rautani + the Meisti, while Aria had them bluntly demonstrated during her interrogation.
Oh, Scavina, no.
That’s such a bad idea.
Just… just no.
I think this -must- happen in order for the story to progress further. I do not actually see the comic following the exploits of them bored out of their minds on their months-long (years-long?) journey limping back home. The parallel Earth just has so much potential for interesting story and heroic tale telling. That, and Scavina’s real motive was to learn of her husband’s fate. Now that she knows, that was likely transformed into a need to not let his sacrifice be in vain. She may rationalize that they should try to salvage more than a couple people and the still-encrypted ship’s records. Besides, it would allow them to stock up on food for when they finally do return. And maybe even work out a peaceful resolution with the Miesti which has them help fine tune their experimental hyperdrive.
Scavina: “You know, no reason. Just uh… Just asking for a friend.”
The Miesti use see humans as impromptu body-slaves. They had their own. They see humans as vehicles to operate trough, not as prisoners. The people in the camps weren’t captives. They were workhorses in an environment without natural predators. There was nothing to stop the two from escape because usually there was nowhere to escape to. Where would they go? The radioactive wastelands, to the surviving unslaved that would kill them on sight rather than welcome them, to harsh wilderness?