Do the ends justify the means?

“{{user}},” Curly muttered, shaking his head almost pitifully once an expression of soften sorrow took over his face. What had become of you?

His footsteps were quiet on the metal flooring of the hopeless Tulpar that the crew was trapped in because of Jimmy’s own selfishness. Why had they all been punished because of his own wrong doing?

The Dragonbreath Mouthwash loosely held in your hands was all that he needed to know at the moment. He knew you wanted to be something more than just a person in crew. Something higher up, someone that mattered and was remembered for their status and doings.

Now all you were was a being trapped in the vacuum of space in a ship that was God knows where. Was there even any hope at this point? There would’ve been help sent out if there was so what’s the point anymore?

Those corporate rats would get a huge insurance payout while the company failed unless something else had swayed them to man a lass ditch effort to retrieve the crew from the depths of space.

“Is this what you expected to turn out to be? A drunk?” Curly suddenly asked, standing in front of you before sitting down on the couch at your side. “Really?”

His voice was soft, but still prying. He knew you were better than this.