[Untitled Video Recording]
Flicker is breathing heavily, static coursing through the speakers with each exhale. The blue lights of the space station filtering through their cockpit are deceptively calm. Flicker himself is sitting tensely: visor stained with soot, gloves clutching the sides of the seat.
"AAAAAARGH!" he screams, burying his head in his hands. "WHY?! What is wrong with me? What is-" the exclamation collapses into pained mumblings as he shakes his head erratically, staring down at his knees. "It just...blew up...I let them get away..."
The outburst slowly subsides as Flicker leans back, letting the chair support their upwards-tilted head. "Damn Explorer...why was I in an Explorer? Ugh, they got my hyperdrive...damn expedition..."
They stare down dejectedly at the terminal the video was recording from, placing a hand on the screen. "Why did I turn this on?" he mutters.
He exhales slowly. "I- I'm sorry. It was just - when I warped just then, it threw me into the middle of a big battle...there was a whole freighter, attacking another one. I wasn't ready- I didn't know what to do- agh. Last time this happened, I swore that if I ran into another pirate freighter, I would blow it up myself...but I failed. Again. Just like that." He turns away, fingers drumming the terminal.
"I- It wasn't fair! I was in an Explorer with zero weaponry! I couldn't- it was-" he breaks off. "...no use trying to justify it. Things happen, I guess. The Atlas does what it does."
He looks off into the distance, making a feeble attempt at wiping the soot from his visor.
"Last time, when the freighter blew up...I didn't see the explosion. I was looking the wrong way. This time, I saw it. And it was so...underwhelming. When the Sentinel freighters go out, you can hear them so clearly, and you feel the vibrations as the whole structure shakes and erupts and destroys itself - but this one wasn't like that. It was hit for the last time, then bam, a bit of a flash, and the whole thing was gone. Just disintegrated." His voice is shaking a little.
"It's making me think...is that how small we are? All of the crew on that ship, everywhere it has been and everything it has seen - does it matter so little that it can just be erased like that, nothing special? Just a little flash like a dying firefly? Is that all we get?"
Flicker is not sure what to say next.
His voice is as muted as the cockpit's dim interior. "...Flicker out," he says, and the transmission ends.
