 How would you describe Click's primary motivations?
For Click and Irish were marooned on the pirate's asteroid—their only weapons a single gun and a news-reel camera. Click Hathaway's camera was loaded and he stood there listening to it rack-spin film between his fingers, and he knew he was getting a damned sweet picture of everything that was happening. Click Hathaway felt the ship move under him like a sensitive animal's skin. Hathaway only knew he was picked up and hurled against a lever-bank, and that Marnagan wasn't long in following, swearing loud words. A sweeter one still of Marnagan beating hell out of the controls and keeping his words to himself until just now. Click grabbed Marnagan because he was the nearest thing, and held on. "Is this what ?" yelled Marnagan inside his helmet. Hathaway felt himself grabbed; he and Marnagan rattled around—human dice in a croupier's cup. They stood in the middle of a pocked, time-eroded meteor plain that stretched off, dipping down into silent indigo and a rash of stars. "If we walk in opposite directions, Click Hathaway, we'd be shaking hands the other side of this rock in two hours." "It's not proof we need now, Click. Hathaway went on saying his thoughts: "This is Gunther's work. I.P.'s Irish Marnagan, temporarily indisposed by a pirate whose dirty face has never been seen, Gunther by name, finally wins through to a triumphant finish. There wasn't much to see, but it was better than standing still, waiting. After that—right or wrong—you'll be Cosmic Films prettiest unmoving, unbreathin' genius. But talk all you like, Click. It's times like this when we all need words, any words, on our tongues. "Gravity should not act this way, Click." some tubular and fat, others like thin white poisonous whips slashing along in the air. Click's voice gasped it out, as Marnagan squeezed his two-hundred-fifty pounds beside him. Something about these monsters and Gunther and— "Which one will you be having?" asked Irish, casually. You're doing nothing but sitting, looking like a little boy locked in a bedroom closet, so take me a profile shot of the beasties and myself." "Then," retorted Marnagan, "we'll develop it for our own benefit; while waitin' for the U.S. Cavalry to come riding over the hill to our rescue!"
 He was originally focused on filming, but he was also focused on survival efforts.
 He was originally focused on filming, but he was also focused on survival efforts.  He was solely focused on filming the events and didn't contribute much else.  He wanted to help beyond filming but only ended up hurting the mission further.  He was focused on filming the events at first, but when he realized he needed to pitch in he forgot all about filming.