While he waits, staring holes through the screen, a headache beings to creep into his temples from how hard his jaw is clenching.

There's another little pop. He considers searching the massive ship for a more functional comm panel, but the fear of a response coming back as soon as he looks away keeps him rooted to the spot, desperately hoping that this one is working well enough to display a message if one does come through.

His fear is proven halfway true. Words finally pop up on the dark screen, but they're flickering so badly that it takes some squinting to make out. Once he deciphers the question, he replies.

marsiva

looking for zhas

where are you