Drifting. He spent so much of his life doing it, both literally and figuratively. The Azimuth was on the float now. Running at zero-g to save fuel for a few hours before turning at the halfway point to start the deceleration at a gentle 0.2g. Tadgh had been claiming it was more comfortable for his injury to have his feet up. It hadn’t been. It was just a good way to spend an afternoon, half awake and watching the monitors every now and again. Not a lot happened on a cargo ship with the computer taking them along their course. Now he was just strapped in. Cup of coffee floating just a few inches off his right hand. Wasn’t any point putting his feet up without gravity. Other people still had jobs to do. Someone was double checking the temperatures on the controlled containers. Lyla was probably working in engineering despite her own wound. This was Tadgh’s third trip on the Azimuth. He didn’t really have crew behaviours down, but she had been pretty scarce on the upper decks since Ceres. “Anything out of the ordinary Azimuth?” A negative response appeared on his screen. “Well unless you have other ideas I’m going down to engineering.” The ship didn’t complain. He was floating down a ladder when the klaxons warned of the impending turn. For an inner he had always been quite agile in low gravity. Just something in his head that was less concerned about up and down that most people he thought. With a clack his mag-boots attached to the deck and he braced against the ladder. He had a vague sense of movement as the ship slowly carried out its turn. When it stopped he felt the epstein ramp up as vibrations through the ladder. Gravity slowly returned. His head swam for a few seconds before he felt confident releasing the ladder. When he did he just had one more down into the engineering bay. At first he gripped the ladder as if to slide down, but thought the better of it. Didn’t seem likely that he would open the wound after two days, but better to be safe. “@Lyla? You around?” he called out as he touched down.