Brilliant, on a curve of Skywalker

As the ship slowed down further getting closer to Shakespeare, Ben began packing up his various bits and pieces and turned his comlink back on. He wasn't sure what would be worse: finding that it never connected again, or that it connected and he learned that his non-Ender family was all dead. He turned it on anyway because he'd rather know than not, and so far it was as frustratingly unconnected as it had been since they left Earth years ago.

He'd had more time to himself as Ender's schedule had filled with various meetings, and he'd used it trying to calm the colonists in his own way: a touch here, a nudge of calm through the Force, a reassurance that the colonists waiting on the planet were just as anxious. The result was he was just as tired as Ender was by the end of the day, worn out from other people's needs.

It was why packing up their room was taking so long--he just didn't have the energy to get very far at the end of the night before curling into bed with a movie. He took another handful of popcorn, glanced at the door, and wondered if it would be too petty to leave small nuts and bolts in the carpet when they left.

Probably, but it was tempting anyway.

[OOC: For the boy.]

Game night had gone without a hitch (well, other than the argument Ben had in his halting French with a colonist trying to skip Park Place in Monopoly) and he and Ender were now heading back to their room after a brief stop for ice cream and drinks in the mess.

"That was fun," he said, bumping his shoulder into Ender's. "Movie night next?"