An Unexpected Cargo

Space, space was quiet, very quiet. Space was also very large, mind-bogglingly so, and to quote an ancient earth author, you might think it’s a long way down to the local corner shop, but that’s just peanuts to space. So the universe could be forgiven for not paying any attention to the tiny speck of dust traversing it’s way across the black void. A speck amongst many billions, traversing it’s way from one point of light to another. The tiny speck of dust was a ship, tiny in the grand scheme of things but gargantuan compared to the fragile carbon-based life forms it housed within. It was crudely formed, built to survive the rigours of space not to look pleasing to the eye, and it drifted through space like an iceberg.

The ship was a human vessel known as the Matheson and it lumbered onwards through the void implacably, in reality it was hurtling at speeds that exceeded that of light, but compared to the awe-inspiring massiveness of space it might as well have been moving at a crawl. Nothing alive was onboard the cargo ship in the organic sense of the word and the ship lay completely dormant.

The interstellar behemoth’s exterior was dark and ruddy in colour, the bow of the ship was a large, vaguely rhombus-shaped metal lump, with the bridge indicated by a bank of triple-reinforced space glass running the width of the pod in the rhombic overhang. After the bow followed a spry network of steel struts, reinforced load-bearing beams and magnetic locks which kept the cargo pod locked with the ship; this section comprised the bulk of the ship. At the after of the ship were the engines, six massive paired-fusion engines which kept the ship trundling along when it was not in hyperspace.

Inside the ship nothing was truly alive, though there were several life forms frozen in the core of the ship. The Matheson was almost as cold as the space that surrounded it; the computer had no cause to heat the ship whilst the crew were in cryosleep. It was quiet, like an interstellar Mari Celeste, stained coffee mugs, hats, flight jackets and playboy centrefolds lay strewn about the cockpit casually. The signs of habitation were all there to be seen, yet the ship was curiously, hauntingly empty.

Only the super-cooled memory banks of the ship’s artificial intelligence never slumbered, and watched over the frozen caskets of the ship’s stasis-entombed crew with impeccable attentiveness. It whiled away the countless months of cryosleep with infinite patience, the sort of patience only the artificial can truly master.

When the crew were in cryosleep the Sapient Artificial Life Three-thousand (or simply known as Sal to her crew) series computer kept itself amused in other, more complicated but less amusing ways (ordinarily humans provided far more unpredictable amusement compared to her artificial constructs) Sal would devote the vast computational resources of her spare memory banks to ‘recreational’ pursuits, at least those deemed recreational to a computer with the brain the size of a planet. She would construct worlds and universes in her RAM, she would form new laws of physics, create vast swathes of 0s and 1s that were designed to simulate life forms, planets, stars and play out their birth and death all in her head.

Sal was roused from one such simulation mid-way through a routine ore-drop by a priority one message from a nearby ship.





Without a thought Sal calculated the time needed to correct course and prep the ship for crew resuscitation. Slowly the ship came out of hyperspace and altered course. Once corrections were made the ship would once again jump into hyperspace. The humming of the engines intensified, and long-dormant fusion reactors fired into life at Sal’s command. Slowly the ship began to warm, fresh air was pumped through the air filters, shortly it would be inhabitable again. By the time the ship reached the rendezvous the crew would be wide awake and ready for the task at hand.

In the womb of the ship, at it’s deepest core lights began to flicker on. The cryosleep computer babbled inanely to Sal as it followed her instructions, and slowly, but surely the crew were brought out of their cryogenically-induced torpor. Lights flickered on, illuminated each cryopod in dazzling white light, defining with perfect clarity the humanoid creatures slumber within. Slowly they were warmed, stimulants and nutritional chemicals were pumped into the bodies and slowly, one by one, they began to wake.

---

The OOC.

Hari Shaeffer-Long

Hari Shaeffer-Long stirred, letting out a small whimper at the blinding brightness that seemed to shine directly into his brain, even from behind his closed eyelids. He stirred, or tried to, but couldn't seem to move his limbs. A brief few moments of panic flashed across his mind, before Hari realized that this was all normal. He was in cryo, or at least coming out of it, just as he had done hundreds of times before. The brief moment of panic and disorientation passed, and he lay there passively, knowing better than to try to move before he was fully recovered.'

A small, pear-shaped bulb was at his lips, and he suckled automatically, the sweet, slightly-warm liquid going into his stomach, helping end the strange taste at the back of his mouth and doing its part to sate the immense thirst he wasn't even aware of until then. Too soon, the electrolyte solution was empty, and the bulb was withdrawn. "Thank you," Hari said hoarsly to the computer, his hand making its way up to rub his slightly-stubbly face. It took him a second to realize he had his motor skills back, and he sat up, the cryopod already opened like a chrysalis.

The cryopods were arranged in a circle, with them all facing out, to give at least a semblence of privacy to their occupants; all cryosleepers slept in the nude. Instead, he face a pleasant cream-colored wall marred only by a small computer panel. Already his eyes were adjusting; what had seemed like a blinding light no longer was any brighter then a gentle diffuse lighting, and after a few blinks, Hari was able to concentrate on the computer panel before him. Nothing strange, no surprises there, thankfully.

That done, he felt able to speak meaningfully. "Hello, Sal. Have we arrived?" he asked as he began to remove the electrodes that connected him to the cryopod. A redundant question; there was no emergency, so why else would he be awakened? But he needed to say something to break the ice, and he listened to his computer explain their situation as he began to get dressed.

Charlotte Gibbs

Charlie groaned, her eyes scrunching against the light. She shivered slightly as she awoke, a reactionary sensation rather than anything pertaining to the cold. Her eyes flickered open and felt as if she was in the middle of saying something, no doubt a last minute thought that had passed through her mind before entering cryosleep. She lazily let her eyes wander around the slowly opening pod, letting them adjust as she sated the thirst and hunger that had suddenly risen up within her from the nutrient outlet. Running her tongue over her teeth as the device retracted and she began to sit up, first things first, dress and then brush her teeth.

Outside the door to the pod was a small locker, within which was her jumpsuit and underwear and beside which were her boots. She dressed quickly and quietly, zipping up the front of the suit over her front, before focusing her returning energies to running her fingers through her long hair and beginning to twist it, round and round, until the waist length strands had formed a tight twist at the back of her head. She fixed it into place with a few pins from the pocket of her suit and stepped out of the pod.

Glancing at the computer screen before her, using it partially as a mirror to check she hadn't left any locks of hair hanging down her back, as well as to check the data on it.
"Hello Charlie," She smiled vaguely at her reflection, running her hands over her face and then around to rub the back of her neck. Next on her list of things to do was a shower and was closely followed by finding a hairbrush. "I assume everything is as it should be..." She muttered to herself with a groan, double checking the information the computer was presenting her with, interlocking her fingers and reaching up to the ceiling, arching and stretching her back. Similar groans and sounds of waking filled the cryosleep chamber as the rest of the crew were brought back to life.

Mitchell Kysantreth

Still barely conscious, Mitch sucked down the nutrient solution as it was presented to him. This was perfectly standard feeding procedure in the crèche, so he was used to it. What am I doing back in the crèche? he thought in sudden panic. Did they recapture me? Has this just been a MindGame? The sensors made a series of displeased chirps and squeals as he sat bolt upright in his pod and his eyes snapped open.

He looked around extremely warily, spotting two of his crew members, and remembered where he was. The sensors became quiet again as his heart rate and breathing returned to a more normal rate. Gods, how I hate cryosleep! It sends me into a panic every single time. Fortunately, he hadn’t managed to disconnect his sensors this time. When that had happened during a training flight at the academy, he had had to spend almost 10 minutes standing in front of his pod, naked, arguing with the AI as his classmates looked on in amusement and concern.

He began unhooking the connections by touch, carefully, as his eyes skimmed over the screen in front of him. He was relieved to find that there had been no disaster or collision with some hyperspatial entity. While it didn’t occur often, some ships did still disappear between jumps, so it was a good idea to be cautious. Trudging to the console, without bothering to get dressed just yet, he keyed in a request for course patterns. Sal responded with a stream of symbols on the screen accompanied by a musical voice rattling off a complex system of equations. Mitch listened and ran through some rapid mental calculations. He confirmed that the current course to rendezvous was certainly safe and on the upper end of possible efficiency. He was somewhat disgusted that Sal had made the jump to normal space without him, as that was the procedure which involved the complicated and elegant mathematics which were his true love.

He spoke to Sal “It’s safe. Confirm subject to Captain’s approval, please”. Sal acknowledged with an affirmative chime. When he had joined the crew, he had given Sal a data chip with his musical shorthand on it. He had perfect pitch, so the computer could relay some rudimentary information to him quickly via musical notes.

With his immediate tasks completed, he opened his locker and started pulling on his clothes. Underwear were followed by his uniform jumpsuit and badge. He yanked on his boots and hoped that he wouldn't have to wear the uniform for long. He hated being in any situation where everyone was dressed the same way; it was just one more neurotic product of his origins.

John Smith

All right here we go, John thought as the lid to his “coffin”, as he called it, slowly opened. Stepping out he started a series of stretches to work the kinks out of his body. Getting to old for this shit, he thought. He could hear the other crew members getting up and rustling around, reaching into his locker he put on his t-shirt and slipped on his coverall, tying the arms at the waist instead of putting them all the way on.

Bending to blouse the coverall legs into the boots and cinch them up, “Sal, run a scan of all mechanical systems.” He knew this wasn’t necessary because Sal would have awoken him if there were any problems, but he liked to be thorough, sometime to a fault, he also liked hearing her “voice”. Sal, of course reported back all systems were normal. “Sal, do I detect a hint of seduction in your voice today? You sexy thing.” He smiled to his self, not knowing why, but it seemed he had a better repute with Sal then most living beings, reaching into the locker for the leather strap he used to tie his hair up in, he ran his other hand a crossed his check, need to trim up these whiskers a bit, he thought as he reached back and tied his hair up.

He felt hungry, he knew he received the proper nutrients and such to sustain him while in cryo, but it didn’t help the empty feeling in his gut. He turned to leave the cryo chamber, better go get properly cleaned up and ready for this off load before the skipper calls a briefing. Heading toward the hatch, he noticed Charlotte at her computer screen stretching, he called to here “hey Doc, would you mind putting this mop of mine in a braid later, if ya got time?”

Slowly waking up from cryo, Ben remembered how much he always hated this part of travel. He sucked on the nutrients, but had to resist the urge to spit them back out - they were never quite as good as a warm, fresh meal. His head was beginning to throb a bit, but he knew that he had to put on a smile and face the crew soon. Not knowing whether or not the captain was awake, Ben woudl ahve to take charge, make sure everything was going alright.

Letting out a sigh, Ben smiled as he looked down at his locker and saw his clothes. Another reason he hated cryo - you had to be naked. That never made him comfortable. It was one thing to be close with your crew, but this was just a bit too close for his liking. The clothes he had brought with him were simple - a few button-down shirts (he was putting on his favorite red one) and a few pairs of pants, as well as a jacket from his days in the military - he did, after all, need to look a bit official. He brushed his hair out of his face as he clothed himself, trying to look as official as one could after coming out of cryo.

Finally moving away from his tube, he saw the other crew members beginning to wake up and flashed them a smile. "Well it's nice to see you all again, hope that you all had pleasant dreams while you slept. I myself had quite a nice dream involving a giant talking sandwich that gave me advice on my love life...still not entirely sure what that meant." Chuckling slightly at his own joke, he looked around at a few of the screens, noticing that they were not at their original intended destination. "Anyone know where we are or why we're here?"

The first thing Chester remembered was something cold and plastic being pushed into his mouth, and reflexively he suppressed the desire to wretch as nutrients and stimulants were fed into his mouth. His dry mouth swallowed painfully as the liquid burned warmly down his throat, forming in the pit of his empty stomach. It was the same routine every time he was roused from cryosleep, and it was something he’d never get used to, the way his body seemed to be encased in pins and needles when he woke up, the way the horrid liquid tasted in his mouth, that moment of sheer terror and panic while the brain tried to update itself.

Slowly the lid from his pod lifted with a low hum his eyes were bathed in white light which made his skull ache. Already he could feel the caffeine and sickly sugars stirring inside him and he managed to get himself out of his pod, groggy, naked limbs moving slowly and sluggishly as he hauled himself to his feet. He was piloting on automatic as he reached out numbly for his locker and threaded his feet into his grey briefs before pulling them up about his waist. He’d never had much of a hang up about being naked. The marines favoured mixed-sex regiments and they fought and died together; modesty had never been a luxury they could afford on the front lines, and it was a concept that was almost completely foreign to Chester even after all these years.

He tried to shut out the voices of his crew as he slipped into his pants and zipped up his dark olive flight jacket half-way. On his right arm the insignia for the Matheson could be easily identified, it was an ancient 20th century haulage truck roaring along on tyres that left flames in their wake. Above it emblazoned in gold lettering were the words ‘I.I.H.S. Matheson, Always First’.

“I’ll head up to Sal and find out what’s what. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria, someone better have a coffee waiting for me when I get there.” You couldn’t really beat a cup of Sal’s double strength espresso to really wake you up, processed medical stimulants just didn’t come close. With little fuss Chester left the crew in the ship’s womb and made his way up the service ladder to the next level; he could have taken the lift at the end of the corridor, but it would only waste time. Once Chester reached the deck above the womb he walked down another darkly lit corridor, vents above him that ran the length of it hummed softly, pumping newly filtered air around the ship. At the end of the corridor was a large white door, it seemed thick and gave the impression that it protected something important.

“Good morning Sal.” Chester addressed the small black orb on the control panel by the door before placing his thumb on the reader.

“Good morning Captain Matthews.” The door hissed and slid open slowly, revealing the cramped control room beyond. The central core was all white panels, black control pads and blue screens, it was spotless and even the smell suggested cleanliness. The room had a precision to it’s design that suggested clarity of purpose. The door hissed shut behind Chester and he sat down before the main blue screen.

“Tell me what’s what Sal.” Chester lifted the back of his hand to his mouth and stifled a yawn before the screens flickered up with inane numbers and information that the captain didn’t really need to know.

“We have been brought out of hyperspace by a priority alpha transmission from Head Quarters via a Terran naval vessel. We are to rendezvous with the Belisarius at the following coordinates and take on cargo. Our previous mission is rescinded, we are to take this cargo to coordinates in the Epsilon Pegasi star system.”
Chester groaned and leaned against the panel as he examined the star chart it displayed, showing their present course, previous course, and their estimated course.

“Epsilon Pegasi is at least seventy light-years and five jumps away from where we’re at. We better be getting paid double for this, and I’ll want compensation for earnings lost on our previous cargo run.”

“I’m sorry Captain, I have no information on your terms of payment and I cannot contact the Belisarius, they are under communications blackout.” Sal’s tone was soothing and neutral, but it had a soft, liquid quality to it that seemed to calm all of the crew down.

“I guess we’ll find out about pay conditions when we get to the rendezvous. Thanks Sal. Looks like we’ve got an hour before the rendezvous, we should look busy.”

Chester left the central core and made his way back down to the womb deck, from there the cafeteria was only a short distance, and he could already smell the welcoming aroma of coffee drifting seductively under his nose.

“Ok folks, looks like we’ve got new orders. We aren’t even halfway to our destination, but these orders are coming right from the top. We’re meeting up with our courier in an hour’s time to take on top priority cargo,” Chester took his cup of coffee from the table and downed the burning-hot contents in one swift movement, wincing a little at the burn, but refilling none the less.

“It’s Alpha clearance. And for those of you who’ve neglected you regulations manual, alpha clearance means we can’t renegotiate our contracts. We either take on this cargo or we get fired by the company.”

He knew they wouldn’t like it, hell he didn’t like it either, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to get fired. It was a fairly long cargo run…but it was just another job, right?

Hari Shaeffer-Long

Hari listened as Sal explained that everything was fine, they were not at their destination, that the explanation would be made to Captain Matthews. He frowned at that, feeling a bit jealous - and why not? Sal was as much a thinking, living being as any of the crew, and as he was her (yes, her, Hari was enough beyond carbon chauvinism to know that gender could exist outside of sex) technician, he felt they had bonded somewhat during his tenure on the Matheson.

Quiet, still blinking the hypersleep from his eyes, Hari shimmied his lanky frame into his boxers, undershirt, and dull grey jumpsuit, before slipping on his sandals and heading down to the cafe with the others, turning on the molecularly-sieved coffee pot when they arrived, giving it its customary bang to work the kinks of the interstellar cold from the system. Back home on Sevateem, coffee was frowned upon. It didn't grow well in the soil, was expensive to import, and was seen as admitting you lacked the stamina to do a hard day's work on your own. Hari had held those views up until being admitted to the University of Santanni. The first term paper assigned by Professor Seldon had created something akin to a religious conversion in the young student, and he had continued to worship his new god ever since.

A plasteel mug - a gift from a friend from university; hard to believe it was so many decades ago now! - of steaming coffee in his hands, Hari sat down next to John. As the fellow technician on the ship - if only mechanical as compared to Hari's cybernetics - he felt a rapport with the man, strangely based on the fact that each (at least to Hari's eye) seemed more familiar and at ease in dealing with machinery (for once, Hari included non-carbon intelligence to this category) than with other human beings. 'John Smith.' What an obvious misnomer, an amazingly bland name for someone who looked anything but average. The word was that he had been a marine during the Tauran conflict, something that would suit him. Hari himself had been in the war; only a 'civilian cybernetics advisor' to the new command systems, although on a ship in the front lines of a war it made little difference to the enemies, although of course Hari did not consider himself a soldier, or advertise himself as one.

Like the rest of the crew, Hari swivelled himself to look at Chester once the captain had returned, and like the rest, Hari found himself growing perturbed, although perhaps less than the others - not because he had any greater amount of patience or stamina, but he already practically lived for ship; other than occasional trips home to Sevateem, seeming more oppressive each time, Hari really didn't have much to occupy his life, and he always enjoyed returning to Sal. That did not change the fact that he was more than slightly miffed at Sal for withholding such seemingly mundane information from him earlier...perhaps there was more?

"They tell you what this cargo is, Cap'n?" Hari asked. "Or where it's going? Or why a courier couldn't take it the entire way, if it needs to get there so fast?"

Mitch listened to the Captain’s request and left the room right behind him, not bothering to stick around and wait for the others. As he walked to the cafeteria, he mentally went over the regulations manual. What could have called for such an abrupt change of plans? It could be anything from emergency assistance to a high-priority mission, he supposed.

Arriving first in the cafeteria, he grabbed the coffee pot and keyed in the brewing instructions for Sal. He also ordered a cup of herbal tea for himself; it would be synthetic, but he was used to that. By the time the Captain and the other members of the crew made it into the cafeteria, the coffee was sitting ready and Mitch was leaning against the bulkhead in the corner, trying to remain unobtrusive.

He let his eyes widen slightly in reaction to the announcement that this was an alpha-class mission. He had expected something of the sort, but according to the regulations, any mission of priority higher than beta-2 was exceedingly rare. He heard Hari’s question and cleared his throat, speaking softly, “If it’s alpha priority, isn’t it likely to be highly classified?” He then looked at the captain, “Sir, have you ever had an alpha clearance mission before? I was under the impression that they’re rare and tend to involve unusual circumstances.”

He looked down into his tea, wondering to himself what complexities would arise out of this new mission. He could at the very least look forward to plotting a new and interesting course for the ship, or double-checking Sal’s path selection, anyway.

Approaching the captain slowly, Ben decided he should find out as much as he could, because the crew woudl be asking questions, that much was sure. Noticing others approaching the captain, he decided to take his time and get to the captain when it seemed appropriate. While the others took their time asking him questions, Ben followed suit from the others and grabbed himself a cup of coffee - he really was going to need it. After sipping the coffee and amazed at how good it actually tasted, he slowly approached the captain, brushing some hair out of his face so as to appear slightly more professional.

"Hey Captain...any extra knowledge on the cargo we got? I know what you told the crew but I thought maybe you were holding something back...just wanted to be kept in the loop. I mean, I won't say no to anything with alpha clearance - I like my job just a little bit too much for that but...well call it curiosity."

Chester listened to all the questions with patience and calmness, he was used to this by now. Deep space travel attracted a certain type of solitary person, and trying to form them into a cohesive team that worked together was like trying to herd cats. But still, he preferred it to the strict order-barking of the Navy or the Infantry. When the whirlwind of questions had abated Chester downed his second mug of coffee and addressed them once more.

“All I can tell you is what I know. We’re to rendezvous, pick up our cargo from the courier and take it to Epsilon Pegasi.” He wasn’t sure of the rest of the crew knew anything abut Epsilon Pegasi, but he knew Mitch, as the ships, navigator would at least know where it was. It was a quiet system, there weren’t any inhabitable planets in that dark system, and only a few desultory asteroid belts to mine. But there were several stations there, and they were all classified military instillations. No civilian ships were allowed through the nav-gates to Epsilon Pegasi, they were shot on site. Chester hoped to hell that the Sal would get the right clearance for them when the reached the system.

“The last time I was on an alpha-class mission I was in a different uniform. Mitch is right, we’ll be informed on a strictly need to know basis and I’m as much in the dark as anyone. But I’ll make sure we get paid at least double the rate. If you’re not happy about it, you know where the airlock is.” He winked cynically.

“Right, we’ve got one hour to the rendezvous, then a long trip to Epsilon. Our cryosleep is being suspended until the completion of the mission, so I suggest you all get your shit wired tight and work off that muscle atrophy. We aint going to sleep again any time soon.”

Putting his apprehensions about the secretive nature of the mission aside Chester was quite looking forward to a few solid weeks of wakefulness, albeit onboard a rather Spartan cargo ship. He could finish reading his books, watch some holo-vids and maybe even get to know the crew a bit better. Rapports were difficult to form when you spent most of your time trapped inside your own dreams. Chester finished his coffee and placed his mug on the cafeteria table that the crew were variously sat/stood around and moved to the east door. He pressed the button and it slide open cleanly, he made his way to the gym.

Chester walked down the brightly lit metal-grill gangway when he heard someone catching up to him, it was Ben, his second in command. It helped him that his number one was also the man he trusted the most and had known for the longest onboard, though to be truthful he had known none of them all that long. They weren’t comrades or brothers, they just happened to work together in very tight confines. He could help but smile when Ben brushed his hand away and tried to look a bit more presentable.

“You look like shit, Ben.” He grinned and stopped to let the man speak, leaning against a dark-grey adamantium bulkhead. His XO was concerned, and that was understandable.

“I wish I had more to tell you Ben, but you know how the company is. Hopefully when we get to the rendezvous we’ll know a bit more about the cargo. It definitely doesn’t add up.” Chester scratched at the vestiges of a beard that were beginning to form around his jaw and reminded himself he would need a shower and a shave before they met up with the courier. “The ship we’re supposed to be meeting, the Belisarius…it’s a military corvette. Probably has enough firepower onboard to fry a small moon. Whatever they want us to carry you can guarantee it’ll be important, and probably dangerous. We all have to stay frosty Ben.” He knew he could rely on Ben to watch his back, and he knew the crew would do likewise. They had to watch out for each other.

“I’m going to the gym. I’ll meet you on the bridge in an hour.” Chester grinned and turned on his heel to the gym, it was time to work off the cryosleep.

Charlotte Gibbs

“All I can tell you is what I know. We’re to rendezvous, pick up our cargo from the courier and take it to Epsilon Pegasi.”
Charlie had been listening almost instinctively as she stirred her coffee again and again until it was cool enough to drink almost in one long gulp. She frowned ever so slightly as the name rang a bell somewhere in her mind. Something she must have covered at the academy.
“The last time I was on an alpha-class mission I was in a different uniform. Mitch is right, we’ll be informed on a strictly need to know basis and I’m as much in the dark as anyone. But I’ll make sure we get paid at least double the rate. If you’re not happy about it, you know where the airlock is...Right, we’ve got one hour to the rendezvous, then a long trip to Epsilon. Our cryosleep is being suspended until the completion of the mission, so I suggest you all get your shit wired tight and work off that muscle atrophy. We aint going to sleep again any time soon.”
"Yes, Captain," She murmured as Captain Matthews made his way out of the cafeteria, closely followed by Lawrence.

"Well, you guys ok if I head to the shower block first...?" Charlie asked, while she was convinced that most of them barely even noticed she was a girl, she thought it best to mention she was planning on wandering around without her jumpsuit, after all she didn't want to offend. Not waiting to hear their responses she jogged to her small bunk room, waking up her stiff limbs in the process, smiling to see everything pretty much as she had left it as she opened the door, even the cup of half drunk water on the locker beside her bunk and the manual laying open upon her pillow. She grabbed a towel and her toiletry bag before heading back up to the shower block. The prospect of hot water making her smile as she entered one of the semi private cubicles and shimmied out of her jumpsuit and underwear before turning on the water.

Sighing as she quickly washed her skin and hair beneath the slightly too hot, but just the way she liked it, water. Her muscles rejoicing as she massaged them and worked out the aches of cryosleep. After deciding that to spend any more time under the water would be verging on the decadent, Charlie was soon back out in the main changing area of the showers, wrapped in a towel, working a comb through her long, thick hair.
"Check out Epsilon Pegasi in the manual...update journal...run a couple of k's in the gym..." Charlie began to run through, out loud, a list of the things she wanted to do before the rendezvous. Pausing and cursing as her comb found a particularly nasty snag in her hair. "Bloody shampoo...!" She hissed, making another mental note to ask SAL if she could find a synthetic conditioner anywhere on board, determined to keep her hair the length it was and not sacrifice it as many women did in her position.

Hari Shaeffer-Long

Hari scratched his bald pate near the mind-machine interface port at the back of the neck, something he did when confused or thinking. He had never heard of Epsilon Pegasi, which wasn't surprising given the fact he wasn't a navigator and how many stars there were in even the small slice of the universe that mankind had conquered. In fact, even most navigators couldn't keep track of them without cybernetic aids of some kind.

But the fact that he hadn't heard of it, and apparently none of the crew who were sitting around had heard it, meant that it was far from being an important, or even populated, system. There were only a few reasons to make transfers in a place like that: fear of something escaping, being taken, or being discovered. The exceedingly-rare alpha-class mission and need-to-know only added fuel to the fire. The captain had one in the service; the ship Hari had been on in the conflict hadn't had anything nearly that important.

The days of the conspiracy-theories on the omnipowerful and malevolent corporations had ended with the twenty-second century; however, even Hari had to wonder if something, not illegal or dangerous, but perhaps slightly underhanded, was underway. Still, he trusted the Company, the ship, the crew, and especially SAL, and he would be paid good money to not ask questions, even if he had felt the need to - and Hari owed far too much to the Company to try something like that, now.

So instead of brooding or questioning or gossiping, as the group at the cafeteria broke up, Hari returned to his room. It showed no sign of having been abandoned for months in the cold of interstellar space; air filtration, fusion heating, and the microscopic cleaning robots had kept it clear of dust, just the right level of humidity, and his preferred temperature of body heat. Stifling another yawn - it would be a few days or so until his metabolism and body chemistry was fully recovered from the hypersleep - Hari spent a few minutes discussing ship systems with Sal, with nothing being remiss, of course. That done, he looked at himself in the mirror. Even more gaunt and pale than usual, not to mention still bearing traces of the cryopreservative he had been pickled in during transit, to use layman terms. He needed a shower.

But what he needed more was a bit of exercise, a habit he had picked up during his service in the war. It helped focus his mind, he found, and also helped stabilize his body from cryosleep. It would be more efficient to just shower once he returned. Shedding his jumpsuit and undergarments, and clothing himself only in a jockstrap, Hari left his cabin completely at ease, making his way to the gym. Arriving there, he set the artificial gravity up to 2X, and proceeded to go to the weightlifts. Jogging would come next, and then he would allow himself a nice water shower.

Mitch

Mitch noted Charlie’s comment and decided not to have his shower immediately. He wasn’t quite ready to face the potential awkwardness of sharing a shower with the only female crew member just yet, not to mention the fact that according to the briefing on who her father was, she might prove to be used to having the amenities to herself. For that matter, he didn’t really know any of the crew that well. Besides, he had some calculations to run through.

He made his way directly to his cabin which was moderately sparsely appointed. Most of his personal possessions consisted of the shelves of data-recordings lining one wall. He did take the few moments necessary to bring the hydro-garden out of stasis. He then gratefully pulled off his official clothing and checked the time with Sal. 53 minutes remaining until intercept. Deciding not to go to the gym just yet, he began a series of limbering exercises and stretches as he began planning out the next day’s course with Sal.

Given the high concentration of massive bodies in the immediate region of space, initiating a jump immediately upon receiving the cargo would be highly inefficient. He laid in the space-time curvature coefficients caused by the three stars of the trinary system around which the other ship would be orbiting, as well as the local variant to the hyperspatial flux.

He switched to crunches as he instructed Sal to plot power usage against possible locations of jump initiation in a small cone pointed in the direction of the Pegasi system. It was far away and would require a fairly complex sequence of jumps to achieve. Moreover, he needed to find out from the Captain whether or not they would be trying to avoid civilization in general on their route. Doing so could complicate things considerably, but might prove necessary, depending on the precise level of secrecy required for their cargo. He sighed. Given that Epsilon Pegasi was a highly classified military outpost, it would quite likely be some form of highly experimental weapon. He just hoped it wouldn’t go off by accident. In Mitchell’s opinion, the old Terran philosopher who had proclaimed military intelligence to be an oxymoron was right on the ball.

At 17 minutes to intercept, he had his answer. There was one decent jump location three hours out from their rendezvous point, roughly 10 degrees off of the direct “line” towards the Pegasi system. The best point was 5 degrees off and 19 hours away. He logged both possible options into the system, as well as a request for the Captain to specify any unusual course requirements.

With that done, he pulled on his pants and grabbed a clean uniform before making his way towards the showers.

With the captain going to stretch for a bit and get some exercise, Ben decided that he should head to the bridge. With the captain occupied, someone in charge needed to be there. As he reached the bridge, he let out a sigh and smiled a bit as he looked around. He had not been on the ship that long, but he had liked the look of the bridge from the start. Something about it just felt comfortable. Running his hands along the walls of the bridge, he looked around at some of the controls. It had been a long time since he had last been forced to fly anything back in the academy, and he doubted if he could even understand half of what he was looking at. Making his way back to the commander's chair, he sat down and looked at the computer console next to him. This console he understood - it told him about their current destination, time until their rendezvous, as well as any alerts that were happening on the ship. If he needed to, he could use the console to get in touch with the other crew members, but there was no need right now. Everyone was most likely working off their cryosleep in one way or another, so who was he to interrupt their fun?

Ben spent some time going through the computer, making sure everything was up to standards and nothing horrible happened during their time in cryosleep. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he spoke to SAL. "Well, it looks like you kept everything in order while we were out." Checking the time, he realized that the rendezvous was approaching faster than he thought, and the captain would probably be back soon. Closing his eyes for a moment he rested, enjoying a quick rest that did not involve freezing himself.