Deep Space IC: Odysseus

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Odysseus

Space_Ship_by_Tysho-1.jpg

Earth Date: December 25, 3094

The Odysseus is a small vessel designed for towing larger ships, small colonies, or cargo. The ship is comprised of two levels and contains a mini vessel called The Trojan that can be used as an alternate form of transportation between ships.

Interior Layout
1st Floor: Uninhabitable – it includes the engine room, power core, power generators, the brig, and other technical compartments.
2nd Floor: Habitable – it includes the bridge, male and female restrooms, living quarters, captain’s private quarters, director’s private quarters, mess hall, recreation room, escape pods, infirmary, locker, and lab.

Interior Description

The Bridge: The Ship Director, Captain, and Helmsman can be found here assessing the ship’s conditions, and of course, running the ship.

Male and Female Restrooms: Includes showers, sinks, and latrines only (the usual). Baths and alternate restrooms can be found within the living quarters.

Living Quarters: About the size of a single-bed hotel room. It includes a bed, bathroom, desk, and not much else.

Mess Hall: Just like a high school cafeteria. There are many long tables where the crew can sit and chow down. Alcohol is not permitted for consumption unless authorized by the Ship’s Director or the captain.

Recreation Room: Includes a small weight room, pool table, card table, and mini lounge with couches for watching TV.

Infirmary: Typical rooms and areas in a hospital just compact.

Captain and Director’s Private Rooms: You can design them any way you want.

Locker: Where all the food, equipment and artillery can be found.

Lab: This is where characters awake from cryosleep. There are cryo chambers and other strange devices that the scientists are free to design and get creative with as they play.

Brig: The tiny space would make a person who isn’t claustrophobic, claustrophobic. The Odysseus isn’t a prison ship, so the only empty space that could be found that was probably a storage closet for who knows what devices became designated as the brig. There’s no light. A prisoner will only know darkness and the loud, endless noise of the ship’s mechanical organs. No one wants to go there. It’s maddening.

Ship’s Weapon Systems:
None

Ship’s Defense Systems:

Magnetic Shield – guards the ship against collisions. It can also be used to guide the ship closer to another ship for docking or grappling purposes.
Hyperdrive – a.k.a. “The Jump,” probably won’t ever be used in this game but the ship has it for getting from A to B quickly. In fact, the ship used it to find the Galileo as it jumped into another solar system.
Escape Pods – self-explanatory.
Trojan vessel – alternate vessel for excursions.
Oracle Communication Systems – allows the crew to maintain communication with those on ship, off ship, and with those back at home base (Oracle HQ).

Odysseus NPCs

Name: Rita Jackson
Nickname: Ms. Jackson (Ooo~!)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Height: 5’3” (160 cm)
Weight: 110 lbs (50 kg)
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Grey
Visual Description: Rita
Written Description: She looks exactly like the pic.
Occupation: Ship’s Director
Personality: Well, straight-up, the crew doesn’t really like her. She looks fake, acts fake, and talks about Calvin Denver as though he was an emperor. She is infatuated with serving Mr. Denver. She is all too pleased that he went and made her Director of the Odysseus. Her facial expressions seem to only know stoicism and happiness. Never has anyone seen her express anger, sadness, or irritation; however, they have heard her express it. She is a woman that isn’t easy to figure out. She gives the commands and expects the crew to obey. No one is to speak ill of Mr. Denver in her presence. Slander is punishable.
Likes: Dr. Calvin Denver and people who speak highly of him.
Dislikes: Insubordination and those who speak ill of Mr. Denver and his wishes.
Talents: She is unusually smart for looking like an airhead most of the time, flexible, acrobatic, and she can do almost anything perfect, which is just weird. She speaks several different languages fluently and isn’t afraid to show off her intelligence.
Psychological Quirks: She tends to remain calm under any amounts of stress, in any situation, and people can’t seem to get under her skin. She tends to only smile or remain straight-lipped about things. She seems insensitive, always offering the logical alternative and not always the morally right one.
Brief Background: (What no characters currently know or will discover in awhile) Rita is an android created by Dr. Calvin Denver. He designed Rita to simulate perfection and positive qualities in human beings. She serves only him and will tell him everything he wants to hear. She is actually a prototype that he decided to send on some crazy, research mission to recover one of his lost research vessels. It cost him quite the amount of money and he really wants to know what happened to it.

What the crew doesn’t know is that they are all expendable if the mission turns out to be life-threatening. If there ever is…let’s say, a hostile, alien encounter that could threaten the lives of many if the vessel was to attempt to return, it is Rita’s job to make sure the infected crew members are all terminated.
Other Information: Rita is an android. She is super strong, super fast, super flexible, but fortunately, carries no weapons. She can only become a Terminator if the program is unlocked by Dr. Calvin’s voice.

NPC List


The Beginning Summary

It’s been ten years since the research vessel Galileo went missing in the Gaddis System. Oracle, a multibillion dollar corporation known for its scientific miracles, has volunteered to fund a rescue mission to locate the craft and its crew.

You are on the rescue shuttle Odysseus, which is pretty much a futuristic towboat. The mission is supposedly a search and rescue, but Oracle also desires an investigation be conducted to explain Galileo’s failure to return.

Your characters have been in cryosleep for two years and Odysseus’s AI will awaken everyone once it spots the dormant research vessel in the distance. The cryosleep capsules will be drained, life support will be removed, and it will be as though your characters are waking from a long sleep. You can also assume that their bodies were preserved for two years, and therefore, they hadn’t aged for two years. As soon as your characters awaken, they will head to the mess hall on the ship to have a nutritious meal and interactions can be made on the way. During mealtime, the Ship Director will brief everyone on why they are here (pretty much reminding them). He/she will also explain how they are going to board Galileo, any safety precautions such as wearing the space suit and helmet, and how not to wander off alone. Once that’s done, the investigation will begin, and as the GM, I will be dropping some interesting stuff to be investigated your way. Expect the unexpected!

IC Rules

1. Do not post OOC bubbles in the IC. Keep all OOC information in the OOC or if it is to somebody private use PMs.
2. Always write your character’s location. There are several characters in this game and we can’t keep track of them all. Be sure to post your character’s location in bold at the top of your posts.
3. If your character becomes trapped or lost, then you are not allowed to post his or her location. People will have to try and find you by guessing where you are from the description of your character’s surroundings when you give them.
4. See rule #10 in the OOC.
5. If you would like to have a scene happen to your character, then PM the GM. He may or may not permit you to have your own alien encounter. It depends if he feels it will interfere with the plot.
6. You may know something OOC, but IC, your character doesn’t know it. Please do not metagame.
7. Have fun. There will be sex, there will be aliens, and there will be action, horror, and suspense. Enjoy the drama this game will orchestrate.

Links

Deep Space OOC

Deep Space IC: Galileo
 
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Gadget List

Orion Space Suit
User: Male
•Automatic Internal Pressure Stabilization
•Temperature Fluctuation Protection
•Ultraviolet and Particle Radiation Shield
•Automatic Cooling Sensor (cools you off)
•Built in waste bladder (in case you got to go)
Fit: Excellent (fits all body types even overweight)
Oxygen Supply: Excellent
Armor: Excellent
Micrometeroid Protection
Dragon Scale Shield – neon-orange, scale-like lenses of concentrated light that protects the user from assault and melts anything that comes in contact with it. Persistent barrage without allowing the system to cool down can result in a meltdown in which the defense shield is no longer active.
Shock Barrier – in emergencies, the suit will release an electric barrier around the user to shock the user’s assailant.
Mobility: Excellent
Air Jets (for propulsion in zero-G)
Grappling Hook (keep you from floating off into space)
Wall Climbers (cling to all surfaces)

Rhea Space Suit
User: Female
•Automatic Internal Pressure Stabilization
•Temperature Fluctuation Protection
•Ultraviolet and Particle Radiation Shield
•Automatic Cooling Sensor (cools you off)
•Built in waste bladder (in case you got to go)
Fit: Excellent (fits all body types even overweight)
Oxygen Supply: Excellent
Armor: Excellent
Micrometeroid Protection
Dragon Scale Shield – neon-orange, scale-like lenses of concentrated light that protects the user from assault and melts anything that comes in contact with it. Persistent barrage without allowing the system to cool down can result in a meltdown in which the defense shield is no longer active.
Shock Barrier – in emergencies, the suit will release an electric barrier around the user to shock the user’s assailant.
Mobility: Excellent
Air Jets (for propulsion in zero-G)
Grappling Hook (keep you from floating off into space)
Wall Climbers (cling to all surfaces)

If anyone mentions a gadget IC that sounds like a device anyone can use, then it will become an actual device in-game and everyone must refer to it whenever they use it.

Incinerator Bin - incinerates trash so it doesn't have to be taken out. It keeps the ship stink free.

(Created by Vailyn)
Vivati-Top: Looks like a regular counter top or open flat kitchen space with several options for interface. This model interface can be started by pressing the Vivat Logo (ornate capital V overlapped by a simple t) which is located at the bottom right corner. Once started, a holographic computer interface starts.

This appliance can revitalize dried & shrunken goods back to original state. It can also defrost frozen stuff. System is customizable to have auto functions. The scanning system can be made to detect what you place on it and defrost or revitalize food. Depending on density/volume, process only takes seconds to a few minutes.

Thermal Pressure Ovens: It's an oven. You don't need to know how it works. It works faster than a regular oven - which means you have to know what you are doing or it's burnt crap. This oven can be programmed to cook with heat or water.

Chawbur Grill: The bars are heated up by rays. It can be programmed to have a various charcoal or wood grill affect.

Tattswave: A super microwave that can bake, smoke or dry goods. Customizable program to scan and execute functions.
 
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A white ring rippled across the star-strewn galaxy, expanding before its epicenter slung forward like a drop of water, a small, argent space craft. The Odysseus had emerged from a jump of folded time and space that had it crossing the Gaddis system’s threshold. The engines quieted to a low hum that was practically a lullaby for the sleeping crew members within.

Inside the Odysseus, the lights were dim. The cryochambers in the lab resembled glass caskets. The orange lids glowed faintly and condensation fogged the glass from within. Within the chilling preservative solution, the crew was frozen for two years, dreaming dreams that would come like any other day. Little did they know their awakening was nigh…

Galileo located…

Crew currently in stasis…

Reviving…


The voice bore an electronic murmur and was youthful and feminine.

Bright squares winked across the orange lids of the capsules, depicting charts monitoring the gradual increase in temperature. The frost on the glass melted into vapor and steam would cloud the interior before the solution was swiftly drained. The chamber door popped open, releasing the hot gas and allowing the cool air within the ship to flood the interior, licking the moisture from Victor Caldwell’s face and chest. The lid opened further, going erect as the life support devices were retracted from his pale flesh to flee like mischievous children beneath the chamber bed just before the Marine awoke.

Victor’s first breath was swiftly taken in through his nostrils and became caught within his throat and lungs. His black brows came together before his body shook from a spasm as it fought to rid his lungs of the solution. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes before he finally sat upwards and spewed a liquid as clear as water across the bed. He spewed two more times before his chest expanded and contracted with deep lungs full of fresh oxygen.

Moisture dripped from his dark hair, rolled down his neck, and clenched torso. His teeth were parted as he continued to filter air in and out of his burning lungs, the burning only subsiding as he continued to do so. He crossed his arms, resting his elbows on the tops of his knees as he lethargically hung his head. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his coin-like spheres sweeping the dark lab and the orange pods that surrounded him.

The first thought that entered his mind was, Where the fuck am I?

Instantly, he remembered boarding a ship that he was to guard, being asked to strip down to his underwear, and then enter some glass casket that had made him feel tired.

What the hell? he thought next.

Turning to the side, he lowered his bare feet to the cool floor and was just about to rise to go wander the place when the dim atmosphere brightened in a flash. The overhead lamps bathed the lab in their blinding light that immediately caused Victor’s pupils to shrink and retinas to scream. Clinching his eyes closed, the Marine hid his face behind a raised arm and growled.

Welcome…

The date is December 25, 3094…


3094? When did two years go by? Was this a joke? Victor glanced to the ceiling in bewilderment as though he could see the one speaking.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…

The A.I. repeated the message over and over as other members were waking from cryosleep. Out of all the people that groggily awoke, there was one woman who stretched her arms in the air and breathed a refreshed and audible sigh. It had sounded so musical and was full of so much vigor. Springing from her chamber, the short and slender woman tossed her head as her dark-brown mane whisked behind her neck. Standing in a white bra and panties, she faced the crew and graced them with a pearly-white smile.

“Up, up, up! I want everyone dressed and in the mess hall stat. We have much to discuss,” she announced and then with a cheerful giggle, she went lightly jogging away—almost prancing. Rita was excited. Today was the beginning of Dr. Denver’s dream!

Victor caught himself staring with a mixture of emotions that were all synonymous with lost and confused. Was this really the job he applied for? He felt like he was in Vacation Bible School.

Get dressed…, he glanced about the cryochamber and didn’t find any clothes. All he had was the tighty-whities he was given that made him think of basic training all over again. The soggy material outlined the round bulge of his crotch as he sat there slightly hunched over for lazy reasons.

Thin, blue channels then appeared on the floor with tiny lights racing in the direction the crew members were to go to find their rooms and the luggage they had packed two years ago.
 
There had been dreams.

In the immediate moment of waking he had mistaken reality for one of their fractured realms. The memories of places, people, and things visited while he'd slept began slipping from him the very moment his eyes had snapped open and without them he felt bereft, naked, left shuddering in the metal capsule that had been his bed while his body lay wracked and his throat tightened and trembled. He gagged. And then, as he sat up and the world spun into a blur of kaleidoscopic colors and images, his stomach heaved with the first of several silent, powerful retches.

Still, in those moments were his body racked itself from the shock of waking, the thought of the standing contrast flickered in his mind. Fascinating and strange that while his mind fought so hard to retain - his body was consumed with the need to purge. And so, like this, he remained with his hands white-knuckled upon the cold rim and his body heaving under the shock of this messy and entirely artificial birth. No nurse greeted him, or the others that woke in their nearby capsules, with a swat on the ass. This was not the birthing of film.

Their mother, however, made herself known.

He had never found it within himself to get used to the sleep. There were some, like the spirited woman who had bounded on ahead as though fresh from a nap, who took to it with ease. They had always been the lucky ones. Colton was not so lucky. The sleep rooted itself deep within his bones and left his mind spinning, eyes sharp on the minutia of the ship’s interior as though he was scrutinizing its smooth surface for some crack or flaw in the bulkhead. The truth was that he was waiting for his eyes to adjust, waiting for the world to stop heaving and trembling with each of his movements. He vomited again, onto himself this time. The liquid unnervingly cool as it splashed across his chest and down onto his lap. He, unlike some, spilled himself with a quiet, tremulous power. The wrenching heaves of others filling the room.

It was some time before he found himself watching them. A few rising, others lingering still, their hands pawing at their bodies with fresh towels. He was not in charge here and it came as some form of relief. The newness of the Corporation’s wealth and comfort had not settled. Government sleep cells, and the nature of a Marine wake-up, was not so patient as this. He relished it. Took his time. And, guiltlessly, was one of the last to rouse and make his way to the showers on legs that were still trembling as he crossed the cold metal floor.

The novelty of space travel had worn off some through the years. Here, aboard the glorified tug that represented home, he was struck by the sudden need to appreciate the small marvels that had brought him here. Outside lay the vastness of space, dark and infinite, twisting madly on like an endless ebon tide broken only by the worlds and stars that dotted its infinite reach. They were debris cast out from primal detonations, cataclysmic events of all imagination that somehow, amidst chaos and destruction, gave birth to life or the elements that sustained it.

He showered with these thoughts and others while his body woke, taking quiet comfort in the warmth of the water beating against him. Marine vessels, more often then not, were not so luxurious. The deep and steady thrum of the engines had often been his lullaby on long operations. Here, though, the floor did not vibrate through his feet. There was no rolling purr of thrusters. It was quiet. Like the space they invaded before their ship moved through it. In the absence he gathered himself, drew on the clean slacks, collared shirt, and over-jacket that he had brought for this occasion.

A part of him still felt strange in civilian gear. The rest, though, adored the comfort. It was a crisp, light, professional look. His pants were thin organic linen, straight legged and classic fit. Light. Almost beachy. The shirt was a light blue, linen as well, with a stiff and short collar. He had eyed the tie he’d chosen but left it behind, throwing on the blazer and shifting briefly before turning.

The mess hall, and strangers, lay ahead. He found them there and a seat apart from them all. It was where he was most comfortable, where he had always been comfortable. The periphery of the group would perpetually be the place he could be found. Things, he had found, grew complicated within the heart of a group. It was easier to be a loose part of it.

Especially now.
 
Eyelashes blinking, they were the first part of Bryanna Mandrake to move after her capsule door was popped open. Blue eyes looked up, blankly staring at the foggy glass in front of her face. No specific thoughts were running through her mind, and her brain only began to recognize bits and pieces of what she was looking at. Glass. Cryochamber. The door popped open further, and her ears heard a sharp hissing sound. She was in a daze, as if her mind was slowly awakening, and her brain couldn’t get the rest of her body to move. Her fingers twitched.

There, a sign.

Almost immediately after, Bryanna inhaled deeply, gasping to make sure that it was oxygen entering her lungs. Suddenly, she felt everything at once.

Her skin was blanketed with goose bumps, all over her arms, chest, and legs. She could feel the wetness on her body, and she didn’t know if that was from the cryo, or if it was sweat. Swinging her legs, her bare toes touching the cold ground, she wondered if she could walk. If she remembered how.

How long had she been asleep? An hour? A day? A year?

When she took in another deep breath, something immediately came back out. Bowling over her knees to the floor, she retched a clear liquid as her body fought to get the chemicals out of her system. It was painful, and disgusting, but necessary. This had been her first time in the chamber, and Bryanna had been trained and taught to expect many things when she awoke.


The date is December 25, 3094...

Did they just say 3094? Bryanna Mandrake froze, trying to wrap her mind around two years of her life gone. Well, no. It wasn’t gone. If anything, she’d gained two years of life. She vomited again.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…

The slightly robotic, but rather Stepford voice announced and spoke faster than she could comprehend. Damn it, she needed a moment! A moment to recollect, to get her brain and body on the same page again. Standing up straight, Bryanna rubbed her eyes with her fists to get the blurriness out of them. When she brought her hands down, her eyes focused, she found why she was cold. Not only was her body moist with some kind of wetness, but she was in just her underwear.

But she wasn't the only one. Another woman, just out of her chamber, was in a bright, cheerful mood. Bryanna recognize the woman, and she didn't know why until she started speaking.

“Up, up, up! I want everyone dressed and in the mess hall stat. We have much to discuss,”

Oh my god. It sounded like the woman was practically fucking singing. How the hell could she be so chipper? So alert and so...alive? Bryanna didn't know whether to envy the woman, or loathe her. While she was normally a bright and cheerful person herself, this was definitely not the appropriate time.

Sighing, Bryanna wished she had more time to get settled. She was excited and anxious to begin working, but there was no way she could work at this exact moment. Maybe a shower would help, if she could manage a quick one.

Very unlike herself, Bryanna didn't speak to anyone as she passed. After some search in finding her room, not even remembering what those little blue lights on the floor were meant for, she grabbed some clean clothes out of her bag, along with soap, and headed to the shower.

The hot water on her shoulders felt like heaven as Bryanna scrubbed every inch of her soft, young skin. It still surprised her that her body was just as she had left it. Bringing her hands forward, the water ran down her fingers as she studied her own hands as if she were looking at a stranger's. Two years. Two years, and she was exactly the same person, inside and out. Her fingers came back down again, re-exploring and touching herself. Feeling every curve, every muscle to make sure that everything was still in place.

After the shower, Bry's small hand wiped the steam off the mirror and looked back at her reflection. She looked just as she remembered, much to her relief. She knew she would, but...she had to be sure. Her wet hair somehow made those ocean-blue eyes look even bigger, even brighter. Her face was still young, soft, tight, beautiful, and strong. Satisfied, Bry hand-dried her hair with a towel. Normally, she'd tie that long, beautiful blonde hair up into a ponytail away from her face, but her hair was still damp and she worried she was running out of time. Instead, those golden locks stayed down, naturally forming curls and waves as she hurried to dress. Navy blue slacks covered those long stemmed legs, as well as her light blue underwear, and over her sports bra Bryanna pulled a tight, white t-shirt over her head. It would have to do.

After her shoes were slipped on, the laces tied, Bryanna joined the others in the Mess Hall. Their voices had already carried down the hall, and she joined the welcome sign of life. But first, food.

Getting in line, Bryanna felt like she was in high school all over again. When it was her turn to grab a plate, she frowned. This was food? Couldn't she have something more...fresh? Of course not. It's been two fucking years, you idiot.

"Is this...edible?" She poked a green substance that had been slopped onto her plate. It looked like some kind of mixture between crushed broccoli, and...god, she didn't even know. Bry held out her plate, and asked for an alternative.
 
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Chief Engineer Colin O'Brien was well versed on the operation of the BG-4000 cryochamber. He had been warned of the potential for hibernation sickness, the fits of coughing as fluid was replaced with air, the disorientation. None of those, however, properly prepared him for experiencing it firsthand.

For awhile, all he could is lay there in fits of coughing. Near panic ensued. Where was he? Who was he? How did he get here? After a few moments, he started to remember his briefing:

"The Galileo?" Colin asked in disbelief. "Isn't it that science ship that disappeared all those years ago?"

It was a nice office, as far as low-level executives were concerned. Not ornate, but with plenty of posters and certificates adorning the walls. The executive in question sat in an actual leather chair with an actual wooden desk - or were they just amazing facsimiles?

"It is," the man replied, "But then strangest thing happened." He tapped on his desk a few times and a holographic star chart popped up. "We started receiving a distress signal from these coordinates about a month ago. Its I.D. matched that of our missing Galileo."

The executive leaned forward as if to add weight to his next statement. "We are sending an investigation team out there and want you to be a part of the crew."


“Up, up, up! I want everyone dressed and in the mess hall stat. We have much to discuss.”

He never really met the ship's director but knew of her. Damn, he thought to himself. She filled that underwear like nobody's business! At least she could have dressed herself before broadcasting.

That reminded him. He needed to get dressed, himself. At least his fine collection of grey jumpsuits and his favorite pair of Converse All-Stars were still intact. After a quick bath, he put on a jumpsuit without bothering with underwear, put on his shoes without bothering with the laces, and headed out towards the mess hall. Fortunately, he knew the layout of the Tugboat-class ship and did not even need any blinking lights to show him the way.

That is when it dawned on him to wonder what day it was...
 
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It wasn't the popping sound that woke him, or the system that allowed them to adjust to introduction of a waking state either. No it was the fits of coughing that he had. A rookie to space travel, he was not used to the long cyro-sleep and was having a bad wake up reaction to. He coughed so hard that he was red in the face. After a bit it died down and the young grad cracked open his eyes, and glanced around to those there. This crew this motley crew he'd kind of got stuck with.

He was a last minute addition to the crew. The company had offered to pay for his college and college debts, who was he to refuse such a offer. Oh and you'll be traveling in space with people you don't even know, to a place you're not even sure is safe. What could be so wrong with that.

Thinking it through as he rose, he whined as his feet hit the cold floor. The contrast of the warm pod and the cold floor was maddening.

"This floor is freezing. "

He hopped around a few times till he banged against his pod with a thud. Swearing as he did, the cold feet forgotten as he rubbed his shoulder
now. He was still just about as blind as a bat too, so that didn't help matters.

Course when the lights hit....and that message hit

Welcome…

The date is December 25, 3094…

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing..



Wait what....that was...2 years?!?!? He freaked out. His flat, his mum, his cat, his...well he didn't have a girlfriend. Still he glanced around the blurred shapes still he fumbled around enough to find the compartment on the pod that had his glasses. Slipping them one, he was greeted with the sight of his “co-workers”. Oh the harshness of being a young man. Sure there were blokes about, but it was those birds that made him stare. Um he needed to find some pants....like now. He scrambled to find himself something to cover up with. Shower room, yeah could help, but he was more interested on putting one some clothes with all the people looking at him in his superman tighties.


Ok so shower might have been the better idea. I mean after sitting so long, in whatever they had to use to keep you asleep, and pretty much sitting in your own waste (even though it was kind of filtered), it still made you stink. Still he wasn't about to shower with the rest of them, no sir. He waited till everyone had left that shower before taking his pale skinny ass in there.

The water was a welcomed feeling, as it splashed over him It was a bit cold for his liking...but it beat the floor. He really didn't think of much as he showered, only of what this mission might entail, and the things he'd left behind. He wondered if he could get a message out to home...letting them know he was alright.

After a quick dry and slipping into his provided clothing he stepped into the mess hall. Sitting by himself mind you, he really didn't know these people well, and was horridly socially awkward.
 
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Devlyn Skye heard a teasing melody that tweaked along her senses and urged her to sing along. Flashes of mystifying colors roamed across her mind in concert with the whimsical, playful song.

The first inhalation of air through her nose was a breeze in comparison to the burning, bursting shudders that choked her throat as she tried to hum and expel bitter liquid from her lungs at the same time. A severe round of choking hacks sent overwhelming tremors throughout her athletic body and made her blind and dumb to all else.

Devlyn focused her will, relaxed her body to take a series of quick breathes through her nose, smoothly leaned over the side of her pod and relaxed her control. Her aching body was more than happy to release the rest of the fluids from her lungs and stomach in a long cascade of colorless, faintly bitter bleah. With a last dribbling spit to empty her mouth, Dev sat up, closed her eyes, and took a moment to meditate.

A variety of conflicting sensations bounced about chaotically for attention. The warm pod against her wet skin, drenched underwear quickly lost heat to the chill air, goosebumps rose, dark nipples coiled to poke attentively against the shapeless sports bra, a miasma of sharp mechanical scents and bodies, ship's announcements, the hollow pang of hunger, rustle and thumps of others awakening, and--

“Up, up, up! I want everyone dressed and in the mess hall stat. We have much to discuss,” a cheerful voice declared.

Dev's golden eyes blinked open as she turned her head to look around. As soon as she realized that the crew were all in various stages of partial nudity, a blush streaked from her face and flushed down her body. Never mind that her simple blue sports bra and bikini underwear did very little to hide her own body. She needed to find her quarters, take a long shower and get ready for the briefing. Dev jumped lightly to the ground and followed the blue light trail to her room.

In the bathtub, she washed her long blue-black hair and bound it out of the way. Dev sighed in pleasure as she washed and massaged her body with her favorite sage-mint bodywash. The firm, caressing strokes relaxed the tight muscles and helped to clear her mind. She drained the tub, let her hair down to rinse in running water and squeezed excess water from it. She dried quickly, wrapped her hair in a towel turban and dressed in a form fitting, dark blue bodysuit. Dev accessed the computer and looked up current stats.

December 25, 3094?!?

No one said the trip out would take two years! Where are we? How did Galileo get out this far? Well, I wanted an adventure. If this isn't the start of one, I'm not a virgin! Maybe I'll lose that too. Dev grinned.

With another keystroke, a view of the current space was displayed on the monitor and Dev absorbed the unfamiliar star patterns into memory. Turning on the map display and ship schematics, she refreshed her memory as she braided her wet hair into a thick, intricate braid. Tingles of happy adrenaline thrummed in Devlyn as she made her way to the mess hall to meet the crew and fill her demanding hungers for food and more.
 
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She was floating across a wide expanse of nothingness. That was the first coherent thought that Dr. Madison Scott had in ages. Usually her dreams were full of the facts, figures and minutia of every day life, but this was different. This time she actually felt her body and she could feel the ripples of liquid around her keeping her limbs loose and pliable. She was floating…

A blast of cold air across her face startled her for a moment until she remembered that she was onboard a ship that had been heading for deep space. Illness from cryo sleep was common among those that first awoke. Mentally she went through everything that she knew medically would help. She had studied long and hard after she’d been accepted on board the Odysseus. Keep your eyes closed to avoid the harsh light. Keep your body still to readjust. Keep your mind calm. Expel the thick, viscous fluid that had accumulated in the lungs.

With that thought, she lurched forward and spewed out the liquid that had filled her body in sleep. It burned and there was no helping that. Ever so slowly the burning started to retreat, leaving behind only a tightness that would fade further still until she was back to normal. Only then did she allow her blue eyes to open.

December 25...3094...Christmas Day, only two years in the future. Stasis could last for years and humans could be drawn out of that unnatural sleep with little effect, but it struck Maddie as odd that they had been out for so long. So much would have changed in two years. New medical advances. New technology. It really made no sense.

It was then that the noises began. People talking, the creaks and groans of the ship, the creaks and groans of people, the coughing, the constant cluttering noise that pressed in on her until she felt as if she couldn’t breathe again. She had to get away to regroup. Hauling herself over the side of the pod, she touched the cold ground with her bare feet for the first time in two years. The feeling sent goose flesh coursing across her skin and she visibly shuddered, a soft audible sigh leaving her full lips.

She glanced down the length of her pale body, noting the black boy shorts and bra she’d been wearing when she was placed in cryo sleep. That seemed like a different lifetime. Even the bright purple of her hair as it clung wetly to her shoulders seemed like a different time and place. It was all serving to give Maddie the worst headache of her life and she never saw a more welcome sight then the flashing blue lights that would take her to her room.

She followed without a word to her fellow crew, distantly hearing the call to the mess hall. After a shower, she decided. Entering her cabin, she looked around at the tiny space and let out a sigh of relief. Everything was in its place. Her clothing hung in neat rows in the little closet, her medical coat was draped across the bed, her medical textbooks were still in color coded order on her desk…everything was as it should be.

After a quick shower, she pulled on fresh undergarments and then pulled out a fresh set of clothing. Her purple hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail as she pulled on a pair of black slacks and a red button up shirt. She’d long ago given up medical scrubs, especially after she’d been accepted in to the Phoenix organization. Her father had been a long time member and indeed, he also sported the same red and black tattoo on his left shoulder. It was the identifying marker of their elite status and perhaps the reason she’d been accepted to go on this mission.

Pulling on her white lab coat, she was soon leaving her cabin, finding her way to the mess hall and settling down at a table with a warm cup of coffee, waiting for this all so important meeting to begin.
 
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Katherine Reed’s sense of consciousness roused a few moments before her vision. It was a jolt of reality amidst a frozen dream. For those first few moments she couldn’t see or breath, though she could hear and above all feel. She felt sticky and wet, like a piece of meat that had been left on the counter to thaw before being thrown into a sink full of water. For a nanosecond she thought perhaps this was how she was going to die, blind and choking; the thought was amusing to say the least. But quickly her vision sparked and flickered to life, starting as a dim bead of white light in the center of her field of vision before expanding to a horizontal line. Sharply it flared out, the white snow of a bad reception on an old world television screen consuming her. Kat felt her body react violently as she tried to breath again, only to find her lungs had no room for air. Even as the dull reality of her world came into focus Kat was rising from her cryogenic coffin and the first thing that came into focus was herself retching up that crystal clear liquid.

Her entire body tensed and shuddered, a sickening retch of a moan escaping her as she heaved a few more bouts of clear fluid onto the floor. Kat found herself contemplating what she saw. Her own legs, pale and creamy, though they had a distinct digital quality to them. While Oracle had bestowed her with the gift of sight it was nothing like seeing with a real pair of human eyes. It was like constantly looking through a video camera lens, the world comprised of mega-pixels and data-read outs. Already numerous tiny numbers flashed in the corner of her eye as the cybernetic components began a self-diagnostic report after being inactive for so long. Kat momentarily lost herself watching them, before the dull rumbling in her ears clarified into an all too chipper female voice. Her initial thought was just how squeaky that voice might sound with a crushed windpipe. If it was one thing Kat hated when waking up, it was cheerful people. And after...what...two years by that other annoying voice’s declaration, well, being that cheerful should be punishable by death at the very least.

Kat was content with mental images of watching that brunette being expelled from an airlock as she finally rose from her pod, the cool air feeling good upon her glistening skin. She wore nothing but a pair of boyshort panties and a sportsbra, the rest of her taut and toned figure left bare, that pale flesh glistening from the condensation. There was no denying those sinful curves or the definition of her muscles, nor the obvious arousal of her nipples that pressed through the black material of her top. A slight wave of vertigo overtook her for a brief moment, though she fought it off with a grunt before a hand raised and combed through her short crimson hair streaked with black. The voice was repeating itself, echoing about her as others rose from their coffins like zombies pulling themselves up from the ground. Well that made her one of the living dead too, didn’t it? The thought caused the first smirk in two years to pass over her plush lips, though it was sure not to be the last.

Without putting much thought into it Kat followed the blinking lights on the floor till she found herself in a small room she dimly remembered. The sight of her gear though drew out some memories. It didn’t take long for her to collect some clothing and other essentials before she found the communal showers and rid herself of two years worth of funky feelings. The hot water felt good, as did washing herself from head to toe. After what felt like a blessed eternity Kat emerged fresh and new, though far from energetic.

* * *

Heavy combat boots thumped against the metallic plates underneath as she emerged within the cafeteria. She didn’t feel all that hungry yet, though Kat never was one to eat first thing in the morning. There was one thing she desired though and that was a smoke. It wasn't till that moment that Kat's brain finally registered the date that had been repeated over and over again as she rose from her long sleep.

“Well Merry fucking Christmas to me,” She said loudly, her voice dripping with unabashed sarcasm. Her hands came to rest upon the shapely swells of her hips as she lingered in the wide entrance way of the Mess Hal, an fiery crimson glow emanating from her eyes as they swept over the near empty room. The place could have held dozens of people at one time though it only had a skeleton crew at the moment, no doubt more were rousing from their frozen slumber and would fill up some of the spots at least.

It was hard not to notice the red glare of gaze, for one it wasn't natural and it was more of a glow than coloration of her iris. After a moment of taking in the scene before her Kat sauntered off towards the line, a tray taken and held out as the food was slapped onto it without much gusto. It was the type of food that should come with warning labels, or at least a sharp knife to make sure it was really dead. Either way, Kat was use to eating crap for food, it wasn't as if she had a discerning palate to begin with. It seemed the woman already in line was having second thoughts about what was offered to her, a lopsided smirk drifted out over her lips as she lifted up her tray and took a step closer before she spoke.

“I don't think the alternative is going to be any better. Probably fuzzier and with significant more meows,” Kat said in passing, unable to keep her the little chortle that came from her throat. If you couldn't laugh at your own jokes then who would?

It felt like the first day of high school all over again, except with significantly less pimples, at least as far as a causal glance could give. Kat decided on a spot right smack dab in the middle of the hall, her tray slapped against the cold table and Kat hoisted herself onto one of the stools with an overly dramatic sigh.

“...I think someone should say a prayer before we eat...” She said aloud, loud enough for everyone in the Mess Hall to hear her husky voice, still dripping with unnecessary sarcasm. It wasn't that Kat was religious by any means, but a prayer might offer some respite to the dangers they were about to face.

With a quizzical look Kat picked up her cutlery and proceeded to poke and jab at the layers and blobs upon her tray. Even the digital readouts in the HUD of her cybernetic eyes had a hard time discerning what she was looking at. With a sigh she thrust her knife into her meal and let it go, only to watch with the same quizzical look as it stood straight on its own accord.
 
Rex

The lights are on! Rex blinkes and tried to breath. Fuckin cryosleep!Rex rolls over on his side and hurls a nasty fluid over the side of his BG-4000 cryochamber casket.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…

Rex spits up again and slowly raises a single middle finger in the direction of the AI voice. This is worst then a Mexican prison he thinks. He blinks his eyes and looks around. Your not on Earth anymore Rex. Rex nods his head. What the fuck was I thinking?Why did I agree to do this?

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…

Rex is breathing normally now and lays back down in his glass casket looking up at the ceiling. A tune pops in his head he had heard on a oldies station at the launch station. It's another manic Monday, not like Sunday What a way to fall asleep for two years.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…

"I'm going to kill that machine! Nag Nag Nag" He says out loud. He sits up in his casket. Then with some effort throws himself over the side. He lands on his feet and wobbles a little. The deck plating is ice cold. At his feet a thin blue pulsing line leads to a sliding door that is open. He follows the line to the door and turns the corner.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing…


Rex followed the blue pulsing lights in the floor to his quarters. He places his hand on the frame or the door and the door swishes open. "Lights on " he states flatly. A gentle glow files the room . He walks in and looks around the room. His gear is next to his bed. The walls are the same pale tan and stainless steel. The beige floor is lightly paddded. He takes off his now damp underwear and places them in a laundry bin next to the shower.

He turns on the shower and it hits him with a jolt. He backs up away from the stream and finds the temperture setting. He adjusts them to a setting more to his liking. He thinks back to his first Senior Flight Instructor. Don't play with it just get it clean. The soaps up and rinses off. It takes two more times till he feels clean. He turns off the water and steps out and walks over to the dryer. The warm air flows over him and soon has him dry.

He reenters his sleep quarters and picks up his over seas bag and places it on the bed. He looks at it, just to make sure it is his.

LIONHEART, REX-CAPT.
15th TIGERSHARKS-RECON
MORGANTOWN, RENO SYST.

He sighs as he looks at his bag. "I miss you guys." He thinks of his dead wife and two little girls. He opens the bag and removes a brown pull over. On the back is written:

Big-Bite-Band
World Tour 3088
Cairo-Rocks

That had been a great show. He slips the shirt over his head. He looks inside and pulls out, Chinese silk shorts. Swedish socks. Ukrainian Air Force camo pants and his English SAS boots. He dresses and closes up his bag. He lifts it off the bed and places it in closet and shuts the door. He gives the room a quick look over. He decides it needs more work, but he will get to that later.

He leaves his room and follows the signs to the mess hall. As he enters he sees several of the crew are allready chowing down or at least have food in front of them. He walks around the outer wall to the serving area.

Ah, Corperate food, ok. It is better then a Mexican Prison, I've yet to see a brown roach swimming in the gravy.

He gathers up a small portion of greens and meat sticks, and a starchy clump. And walks over to a long table on the far left side. Puts his tray down and takes a seat. He puts his head down and says a short prayer. Then stabs a meat stick.

He holds the meat stick up and looks at it. "To those of us who are about to die, we salute you!"
 
Time passed without notice, without dreams, a silent sense of nothing until now. As the temperature of the cyro chamber warms consciousness slowly takes hold. The fluid, a liquid blanket, drains away and the hatch pops open with a hiss allowing the chilled ship’s atmosphere to seep in prickling olive skin. Cold. Sofia’s first thoughts. I’m cold.

She tries to blink open her eyes, but they’re heavy, still trapped by sleep, but she can tell the room is bright and now the noises of others are filling the room, retching and the sound of a computerized voice announcing…

Welcome.

The date is December 25, 3094.

The crew is to get dressed and report to the Mess Hall for the Director’s briefing.


Christmas Day…. 3094? The haze of her memories slowly brings back the day she boarded a ship, Odysseus, and entered the cyro-chamber. Two years….

A sudden shudder interrupts these waking thoughts; shivering uncontrollably she shrinks in on herself at the same time her stomach and chest tighten. Lips part to suck in a breath just as she begins to violently cough. The combination of expelling the fluid within her lungs and the chilled air burns her throat and nose, liquid spewing from both. Struggling sit up and regain composure tears blur her visions as her eyes try to blink open, squinting against the bright lights of the lab. Covered in her own regurgitated phlegm she wrinkles her nose in disgust before leaning over the side for another round of purging and she thought breathing in the liquid before falling asleep was bad. Holding onto the edge of the chamber she finally takes in a full breath feeling the burning sensation fade, but remains still for several more seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to retch again.

Violet eyes lift, observing the room and finding others having a rough go of the waking process as well. All save one. A petite dark haired woman appearing unfazed, her voice chirping in a manner that instantly places Sofia on edge.

“Up, up, up!” In want everyone dressed and in the mess hall stat. We have much to discuss…”

These words jumbled around in Sofia’s head and though she understands them their meaning doesn’t readily take root. The last trail of memories which brought her to this very moment begin to surface, sitting up she looks down at her damp, partially clear slim covered body dressed in only a navy blue sports bra and boy shorts. I need a shower.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the chamber she carefully slides down till her feet hit the cold floor and right at the tips of her toes it illuminates blue. It felt weird to be upright, but her muscles still seem strong and there is no waver in her balance as she takes a step forward watching another tile illuminate blue, creating a trail which she follows out of the lab and down the corridor till she reaches her quarters, walking inside.

As the door swishes closed eyes track the layout of the room she vaguely remembers unpacking her clothes and hanging them in the closet on the day she arrived. The worn leather backpack still unpacked and sitting on the bed has been untouched. First things, first – shower. Walking into the bathroom and straight into the shower she shivers as the cool water splashes against her skin, but it soon warms to hot. Sliding off the two articles of clothing, she leaves them on the shower floor and begins with washing the short dark brown layers of hair, taking time to massage the scalp and neck trying to ease the throbbing of her head.

Stepping back into the room with towel dried hair she goes to the closet staring at the small four square drawers which house the items not requiring a hanger. She hadn’t brought many clothes, all of it looks the same in varying colors: cargo pants, sweatshirts, t-shirts and tank tops. Fashion had never been of much interest. Dressing in a black tank top, a pair of light blue cargo pants and gray hooded sweatshirt she bends down to grab a pair of ankle high black leather boots. Sitting on the edge of the bed she pulls them on and laces them up. Reaching for the backpack she unzips a small pocket on the side and pulls out a silver oval locket, two inches in diameter, dangling on an eighteen inch chain. Opening the locket she smiles at the picture of her parents on the right and her four siblings, three bothers and a sister, on the left. She whispers softly, “Feliz Navidad mi familia….”

Closing the locket she pulls it over her head and tucks it beneath her sweat shirt leaving her backpack to be emptied later; she has a feeling her presence in the mess hall shouldn’t be put off too much longer. Leaving the room she continues down the corridor away from the lab figuring she’d eventually end up in the right place. It didn’t take her long to find the small gathering of the crew scattered around the cafeteria like room, picking at the food on their trays. Walking to the food counter she grabs a tray and tries not to make a face as the slop is unceremoniously plopped on the metal food plate and handed over the glass sneeze guard. Taking the plate she sets it on her tray and moves along picking up a water bottle along the way. Glancing around the room she doesn’t feel ready to socialize and she assumes her crewmates are in the same mind frame, still she takes a seat at long table where a few others are gathered, but seated far enough away that no immediate small talk is necessary.

Finally taking a good look at the food she wonders if it’s a joke or if this glob of …mush is some kind of nutrient that their system wouldn’t reject after sleeping dormant for so long. Picking up her fork she pushes it around on the plate, noting the semi-gelatinous feel and hesitantly takes a small bite. The crinkle of her nose is sign enough of the unappetizing flavor, no not flavor, texture. Yes, this stuff didn’t taste like anything, but the texture wasn’t pleasing in the least. With any luck there are better food stuffs on the ship that will later be used, perhaps there are even supplies to create a hydroponic garden. Still feeling a little dazed she props her head up with one hand as she pushes around the flavorless food on the plate and waits.
 
Tagging: Colton, Bryanna, Eric, and Dr. Madison

Victor’s steel-hues watched the women go striding by in their underwear and the fact that there were women as gorgeous as the ones he was seeing on the voyage made him feel a little proud about his decision. Who wouldn’t want to be exploring the vast reaches of space with a ship full of hotties? Bowing his head, the corner of his mouth quirked upward with no shame before he rose off the cryobed with a soft groan. His legs felt like he had ran several miles, aching and slightly burning—a nice hot shower would do him right. The blue path-light reflected in his eyes as he inspected it and like everyone else, he chose to follow it.

The line ended before a metal door that whisked open on a whisper. It was his bags on the bed that lured him inside like a mouse to a piece of cheese. The door closed behind him and the A.I. spoke on an inside voice:

Welcome Victor Caldwell…

Your room is 0334…

Reset your room password at the panel on the wall…


He opened his luggage bag and dug a hand around inside it for some underwear that wasn’t gnawing on his dick.

Reset your room password at the panel on the wall…

His hand closed about a stack of boxer briefs that he had purchased two years ago. He set them on top of his bag and slid off his underpants. He didn’t even put them in the clothes hamper, he threw them in the nearest incinerating trash bin. Orange light flashed against his pale skin as the damn under garments were sent back to Hell. They had left red lines all over him.

Reset your room password at the panel on the wall…

Breaking into the new set of underwear like Christmas—ironically it was…Victor paused to stare in mild surprise at the realization as he tested the elasticity of the black boxer briefs he would be wearing.

Well, whaddaya know, he thought.

Reset your room password at the panel on the wall…

Setting his underwear on the bed, Victor then removed from a side pocket a bottle of spiced body wash, a foldable caddy, and some shower flops. He set the shampoo in the caddy and removed a white, fluffy towel that he wrapped about his hips.

Reset your room password at the panel on the wall…

Making his way out of the room, Victor was a foot from his bedroom when the A.I. said:

Password failure…

Lockdown proceeding…


Dropping his caddy, Victor whirled and caught the door before it closed with his right hand.

“Oh no you don’t you bitch!” he growled between clenched teeth.

The electronic door was fighting him, trying to seal his room. His left hand soon joined his right, the muscles in his arms and chest were swollen with strength as he slowly pushed the door wider. It began to spark and expel whirring noises, and his right arm was strangely getting warm. Glancing to the glowing-blue door panel, Victor turned his back to the door, leaving his right arm to hold it open as he reached toward the panel with his left. His legs were spread and feet planted to keep from sliding across the floor. His white towel was slowly parting and sliding further down his hips to his misfortune.

Victor entered his current age and birth year as the pass code before the door finally retracted.

Password Confirmed.

Victor stumbled a little and quickly grasped his towel to secure it back around his hips. His face was red not only in humiliation but anger. Stepping out of his room, he scooped his caddy up and noticed from his peripherals a girl standing there in a cotton candy-blue towel. She was soundlessly staring, her eyes saying she had watched the whole thing.

His silver eyes flicked to her briefly, but he didn’t say a thing. He simply went straight into the shower room, frowning the whole way. Did he say he hated the A.I. on this ship? Well, he hated the fuckin’ A. I. on the ship.


Victor’s shower hadn’t been long. It had been long enough to wash the slime from his skin and hair and fill the shower room with the smell of several pungent spices. Through the thick steam that rose in fat plumes about him, he gazed at his right arm. He had forgotten that he had lost his real arm long ago. His eyes briefly became distant as he listened to the rapid crackle of particle rounds, shouts: Shoot it! Shoot it!, and then his own agonizing scream. He had never heard himself scream like that before and never thought he would.

When he came out of his temporary coma, his left hand was clutching the bicep of his right arm. He was still in the shower and the hot jets massaging the back of his neck and shoulders. Victor cut the water.

Mess Hall

The sight he walked in on in the cafeteria made his brow raise. There were people scattered all over the place. Some were eating by themselves distanced from each other as though they were scared of each other or antisocial. As long as there was nothing going on that he didn’t know about, he didn’t care. Besides the antisocialists, the one person Victor noticed immediately was the other Marine with his high and tight hair cut, collared shirt, and…fuck that. The only thing Victor maintained was wearing a belt like the one he was wearing with his black jeans. No one would catch him wearing a belt in his quarters. His pants would sag and he wouldn’t care who would see what he was wearing. If they were offended, they shouldn’t be in his room.

The other Marine had brought an amused smile to his face as he walked across the cafeteria to get in line. The lunch lady was looking like she might have gotten some freezer burn because she was all sorts of ugly. It was the huge mole on her chin that sprouted two follicles of hair that had Victor’s attention as she stood there with her jowls hanging and tiny lips, tensed and painted in a bright pinkish-purple lipstick. She was currently refusing a young woman (Bryanna), claiming that she was being too picky and that she couldn’t go wasting the food on the ship for there was only a limited supply.

Victor stared at the green slop on the girl’s plate and immediately his upper lip arched with a disgusted expression. Her meal looked like spinach out the asshole. With a frustrated frown now on his face, he gazed at the other entrees and sides and the only thing that looked familiar was the creamed corn. They would have creamed corn. He didn’t think he would ever escape it now. It even existed in space.

“What the fuck?...” Victor quietly muttered.

“What you want?”

Victor was horrified to hear her thick accent and her broken English, but he put on a good poker face. His eyes skipped over several before he saw something that looked like a plain-old chicken sandwich and pointed to it. It was at the end of the counter.

“This?” the lunch lady asked, pointing to some mystery meat swimming in gravy.

“The chicken,” Victor clarified.

The lunch lady then began rescuing the pinkish-grey slab of meat that was apparently chicken from the gravy that dangled like pond scum from her spoon. Victor’s right eye twitched and a slow grin mixed with disgust and faux-joy parted on his face as he threatened, “Lady, if you put that on my tray…”

“Fei Yen, gāi míng nánzǐ xiǎng de jī ròu sānmíngzhì…”

Suddenly, the Camp Leader was standing next to him with a bright smile on her face. The Director was dressed in a nice black business suit with a white undershirt beneath her jacket. Fei Yen set down the soup spoon and grabbed some metal tongs to pick up the chicken sandwich and set it on the lunch tray. Victor stared at Rita awkwardly before he asked, “Three more please.”

The chicken sandwich was probably all that he was eating today since it was the only thing that looked like real food.

“Sān gè,” Rita translated happily.

Victor took his tray once the lunch lady added more sandwiches and muttered, “Thanks…”

Rita beamed so bright his eyes squinted some. “You’re welcome!”

The little woman then marched on her way.

Since Bryanna had been denied a second chance, Victor set on her tray, making sure to avoid her gelatinous goo, one of his chicken sandwiches. With that taken care of, he picked up his tray and went to retrieve some condiments for his meal, and then took a seat between where Eric and Dr. Madison sat.

He dressed his chicken sandwich and raised it up to his mouth, the grey, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing seemed to tighten to the slight shifting of his muscles. It appeared to fit him snuggly with how it molded about his torso, but it was actually loose and comfortable. He had gotten into the habit of wearing long-sleeved shirts since he got his tattoo on his left arm. At the time, the mood tattoo seemed pretty cool, but then when it started giving away certain moods he was in, it became a problem. He sank his teeth into the sandwich and what tasted like sawdust and ketchup filled his mouth. Setting down the sandwich, Victor frowned down at his meal as though he was about ready to flip a table. He just needed a moment...to cool his jets...he breathed in deeply through his nostrils and then out as the food was still clumped within his cheeks. He couldn’t bring himself to swallow it just yet.
 
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Dr. Bryanna Mandrake - Tagging: Victor, Madison, and...whoever else is sitting close.

Staring down at her food, holding that gray tray, Bryanna couldn't take her eyes off of the food that she was given. If her hands shook the tray even slightly, the green goo of vegetables rippled and jiggled like Jello. Mm, Jello. She'd rather eat that for dinner, than...whatever the fuck this was.

Bryanna was very well aware that she may have been holding up the line. Some people waited behind her, while others passed her in line to get their own pile of shit slopped onto their plate. The woman behind the line of food was trying to tell the long-legged blonde to scram, but Bry wasn't one to settle so easily. Her lips parted, her mouth opening to dispute, when the man next to her was mumbling,

“What the fuck?...”

The man was taller than her, making Bry tilt her head back, but not too much, to look up at him. His jaw was tight, and she could see the serious intensity in his eyes. She didn't know the stranger well enough to know if his face was always like that, or if he was just as upset as she was about their food choices.

She could only stand there and watch as the man grew more impatient with their master chef, likely about to explode, or throw his tray across the counter before the Director was suddenly next to him, speaking in a tongue that Bryanna didn't recognize. Foreign languages weren't her strong suit. Rita looked just as cheerful and bright as when she'd awoken, and somehow she had worked her magic to convince the cafeteria woman to place three sandwiches on the man's plate. Bry's blue eyes widened, her lips pursing, hopeful for one as well as she urged her tray forward. The woman behind the counter just looked at her, blankly.

Damn it, what did she have to do to get some fucking solid food? She whipped her damp hair around to glance back at Rita for help. But the Director was marching away. God, even her fucking walk was as cheerful as her face and voice. She looked as if she had an extra skip in her step. Bry only walked like that after she'd been laid. Or was about to be, at least. The further Rita walked away, the more Bry realized she wouldn't be eating her meal tonight.

Turning her head back around, Bry looked down to see that the man had given up one of his sandwiches and had given it to her. It sat next to the green glob of vegetables, and she couldn't help but smile. Before she could even thank him, he was leaving to be seated.

Now that she was turned, she could see people pouring into the small mess hall. Some immediately went for food like she had, others just sat, ready to get the briefing over with. Unsure where to sit, she figured she may as well sit with a group, rather than alone. It would likely kill her if there were conversations going on that she wasn't a part of. Taking her first step, Bryanna's footsteps followed the tall man to the table he chose to sit at. On the opposite end, across from the other doctor, she set her tray down and lowered herself into her seat.

The purple hair threw her off, but the only way she knew the other woman was a doctor was because of the lab coat she wore. Shit, was she supposed to wear hers? She only wore it when she was working, and clearly, her services were not needed right now. But still, it was nice to have another doctor around. Or at least, someone that she might have something in common with to help pass the time out here in deep space.

Looking up, Bryanna watched her chicken sandwich hero take a bite out of his food, and she sensed some disappointment on his face as he set the sandwich back down and leaned back in his seat. Could the food still be that awful? She flashed an amused smile over at him, but the amusement disappeared when she took the first bite of her own sandwich. Bryanna's nose scrunched as she chewed slowly. She didn't even have ketchup on her sandwich to mask the dry taste of...nothingness. Swallowing hard, she wished she had something to wash it down with.

Blinking, Bryanna glanced back up at the other doctor.

"Please tell me that your coffee is better than the food here." Her pink lips curved, trying to smile and lighten up the silent, groggy mood that everyone was in.
 
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Rex-ship dinning room

"赫爾主任。我想要謝謝你為這精美的食物。正是好遠然後任何食物我吃過在墨西哥的一所監獄。你是真正的喀爾文 · 丹佛追隨者。你辜負你的自我讚美他。"

"I'm sorry Director my Manderian is very poor. I know only traditional Chinese. I was trained by simple monks. " Rex says after a simple bow at the waist.


Herr Director. I wanted to thank you for this fine food. It is far better then any food I ever had in a Mexican prison. You are a true follower of Calvin Denver. You prove your self worthy of his praise.
 
He watched them, all of them, filtering along through the hallways and into the mess' cramped confines. It was, as it'd been on every ship he'd known, the heart of the ship. The essence. He was ravenously hungry. The cut of his eyes along the various plates afforded him the benefit of surveying what the kitchens offered. A few of the civilians turned their noses up - he knew better. A man didn't serve his years and complain about a hot meal. After a man ate military meals for a few years he'd eat just about anything.

It was simple experience that kept him from eating. He'd always struggled waking from cryo. The experience, the trauma and how it affected him, left him feeling disjointed and inhuman. Amidst the bright lights, seated at the periphery of the crowd, it was all he could do to remember exactly what it was that had brought him here and kept him here. The nanomachines within him were doing their work to help him recover, crawling along and feeding his cells oxygen.

He would not eat until he felt able. Willing. He wouldn't speak because he knew the brief was coming.

Men and women, mostly under 40, which lead to numerous problems that he'd anticipated. There would be, in time, conflicts within the ship's crew. A few, certainly, would be more than a handful. The others, he wasn't certain. People, with their strange inclinations and tangled emotional webs, were foreign to him. He thought of Elsa briefly amidst it. Her big eyes shining as she fought back tears. The way she pivoted on a high-heel on her way out of their flat together.

Dark thoughts.

He was tired of people and the complications in their lives. Tired of the crawling monotony and numbing reality of military life. They'd finish this job in a few days, he imagined, and then he'd have more money than he'd ever had. The payments that the corporation made were remarkable things. More than a few checks would find their ways into the hands of brothels.

He wanted a woman.

He had no home.
 
What the hell is all of this? That was Colin's first impulse seeing the 'food' arrayed before him. Something must have gone wrong with the food storage system, or maybe some idiot in logistics messed up, or maybe - just maybe - this was all some sick joke.

Regardless of the situation, he was starving. Biting the bullet, he asked for the green glop and whatever that solid stuff was. Looking around, he recognized none of the crew and decided to find an empty table to settle down and eat. At least, he hoped he could eat it. He took a small dip with his spoon and took a small taste of the green stuff.

It turned out to be worse than he thought. Whatever it was, the aftertaste just kept getting worse and worse. He ran over to the lunch line and grabbed a cup of some purple drink and took a big swig. It tasted like unsweetened Kool-Aid, but at least it washed down that nasty stuff. Sitting back at his table, he seriously considered going hungry instead of eating that shit.
 
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Kat - Mess Hall

While it might not be visually appealing or even great tasting, the slop was sustenance. Kat couldn't run on empty, she needed her wits about her and energy. Beer and road smokes could only go so far. She readily poked literal fun at the food on her plate, but without a second thought she dug in like the good soldier she was. Kat proceeded to stuff her mouth full, barely pausing to offer a few insubstantial chews before she forced another forkful into her maw. Unconsciously she tilted her head and shrugged, meh, she had worse out in the field, nothing that a little salt or hot sauce wouldn't fix. It was easy to eat shit when you couldn't readily taste it.

It was more a force of habit of masticate in this manner, it was a necessity at this point, not a pleasure. There were a few things that you never left behind, at least in Kat's case. Left to her own devices the red haired Security Officer sunk into a bemused silence, her jaw instinctively grinding up the contents of her mouth as her hand repeatedly brought more to her lips. Her crimson gaze seemed more inhuman that it did before, mostly due to the fact she wasn't blinking. That in itself was mostly instinct too now; her new eyes weren't perfect, or perhaps they were. The unconscious act of blinking was lost on her sometimes, mostly because her eyes were kept clean and lubricated on their own. Thus, they peered outward from her meal, unblinking and unfocused on anything really. The shower had woken her up for a bit but the lethargy of being asleep for two full years still weighed on her. More than anything though, her body was craving something else...nicotine. It was as if the packet in her pocket was vibrating, a sinful whisper to partake in the delight that was smoking. It was a filthy habit, even Kat would agree, that was after of course she blew a big puff of it in face of the person who said it.

Yet she refrained, at least until she cleared her plate, which at this rate she would any minute. It was all automatic work, brainless like driving down a street one had driven a thousand times before. Her mind was elsewhere, drifting in the empty space much like the vessel they currently inhabited. The voices that drifted about her were lost in the void of her thoughts, little existed at that moment though there was nothing profound or meaningful going on behind those carmine eyes. She didn't pine for those that she lost or wonder what breed of cat when into the foodstuffs. There had been nothing left for her before she signed up here, nothing but a life of wallowing around in her own self pity. Her family members were dead or ass-hats, either way she didn't give two shakes about the lot of him. She had never been close to any of them or really anyone for that matter. The company had given her the gift of sight, something no one else could or would do for her. She might not like what she was eating or what she was about to do but it was better than the alternative.

The scraping of her utensils against her plate lulled her from her self induced reverie. Reflexively she blinked, dark lashes fluttered over her carmine orbs before they snapped into focus. More people were filing in by the minute, none of them with particular familiar or likable faces. But that was the danger of judging someone at first glance, though Kat really wasn't putting to much thought into it. With a exasperated sigh she pushed her plate away and found her cup. Whether water or something else, it was cool and wet, she didn't need more at the moment from it. A few gulps was enough to wash down the remainder of her meal and a resounding burp more than enough to reminder her of the taste.

“Ugh,” Kat grunted, her face contorting with a grimace as she leaned back and slid a hand into one of the pockets of her pants. With a deliberately slow pace she retrieved two items, her hands holding them with a lover's grace as that crimson gaze flickered down to her prize. She shifted in her seat, elbows came to rest on the table as she ran her fingers over the tarnished zippo lighter in her grasp. There were few times Kat was sentimental about anything but this lighter was one of them.

It brought up memories both good and bad, though Kat would have it no other way. Her fingers traced over the metal, worn from age and use until it was smooth and unpolished. There was an engraving on it or at least there had been at one point. Most of it was worn away with time to the point of being illegible besides the last bit “-are recovering my body, FUCK YOU.”

She lingered for a moment before the lighter was set aside and she wrapped her fingers around the package of cigarettes. They were an off brand, shitty but cheap, that was all that mattered sometime. She wasn't sure if they were still good (not that they were ever really good) but there was only one true way to see. Without further pause Kat rapped the package against her palm several times before she peeled off the plastic lining and opened it. The scent was enough to get her mouth watering. All too eagerly she removed one, stuffed it back in the pack upside down and removed another which she flicked into her mouth expertly. The zippo retrieved and squeezed between her middle and index finger as well as her thumb, till the top popped open from the force. With that satisfying click she brought the small flame to life and raised it to the lip of her cancer stick. Her lips pursed and cheeks caved in lightly as she drew in for the first time in years. She didn't stop till the tip was a brilliant cherry red, only was she content. Slowly Kat's eyes closed and she took on an expression of one savoring the moment. Her lips were still pursed, the cigarette held high before she finally plucked it from between her lips and let out an all too pleasureful moan.

“Mmmmmhn, now that's flavor country.” She said to no one in particular, the smoke billowing out from between her lips as she released it after several long moments of holding it in. The rest of the cloud tapered off and filtered out her nostrils as Kat settled into her seat once more and started to take some more measured note of her surroundings.
 
Devlyn - Tagging: Colton

Devlyn didn't get very far before she returned to her quarters. She left without Gizmo! She's never goes anywhere without Gizmo. Golden brown eyes danced with humor and dusky rose lips pursed to whistle a catchy melody. Gizmo is a specialty belt designed specifically to hold various items, tools and bits that Dev couldn't do without. The simple black belt is a mutable light metal that conforms to waist or hips. Several small compartments, pouches and hooks were designed to attach to the belt. Gizmo was one of the first useful items that Devlyn designed and created with her Dad. She hardly ever goes anywhere without it.

Settling the belt on her hips, she felt it mold itself to her body. Dev patted it fondly before searching for her tablet PC, mini tool kit, zip pen, unicam, microplex black gloves and F! red marker. She attached the necessary compartments to the belt and stowed away her tools.

Now I'm ready! I can't believe I almost forgot Gizmo. Several pitiful gurgles reminded Dev of her hollow stomach and the necessary call of food. She left the room for the second time and headed towards the mess hall. She tried not to be too distracted by the design of the ship but it was the first one she has ever been on and she didn't get a chance to really look at anything when she came aboard.

The specs stated that Odysseus is a small bi-level vessel usually used for light commerce or maintenance for large ships. There were some alternations made to it in order to go on this rescue mission but not all of the information was accessible. Apparently Dev didn't have high enough clearance level. Though, if she really wanted to know, that wouldn't stop her. The majority of the interior space is made up of a gray metal with a blue shine. This particular color was chosen specifically to keep morale positive. Studies have shown that overwhelming dark colors tend to cause negative mood effects that lower morale and overall efficiency.

The general height of the rooms and passages was nine feet. Dev looked up to stare at the ceiling. I wonder if anyone feels claustrophobic due to height? A grin flashed and humor lit her eyes as she entered the mess hall.


Mess Hall

Several crew members were already sitting down at the long tables or looking rather dispirited in the food line. That didn't bode well. With a mental shrug, Devlyn joined the line and picked up a tray.

Ahhhh... No wonder everyone looks cranky. I wouldn't want to eat anything that looks like play dough either.

"Huh. Yup. They're all there. All primary and secondary colors are clearly represented at this meal. Blue, red, yellow, green, orange and purple goo to go." she said lightly to herself. She laughed softly but hid the smile when she reached the grumpy lunch lady with pinkish purple lipstick. Perhaps not the best fashion choice.

"Hello! What do you recommend the most?" She nodded at the piles of goop. The smell from the food was odd. It didn't really smell like vegetables, meat or anything really edible. The lunch lady grunted at the red, blue and yellow goop and gave Dev the stink eye. Devlyn grinned and asked for one of each with a respectful please. The lunch lady's face lightened up to look less like an angry stone statue and more like a tired grandmother. She plopped a pile of red, blue and yellow goop onto the tray. "Xièxiè, zǔmǔ."

Grandmother's face crinkled into a happy jack o lantern smile and nodded before returning to her cranky state.

Dev grabbed several condiments and wandered over to the drink fountain for a cup of water. Looking around the room and not recognizing anyone at all made her feel adrift. She wasn't quite ready to chat with people yet. She needed a little time alone to eat, observe and think. Off to the side, a man with short black hair sat by himself. He seemed alert to his surroundings and yet weary to the bone. She moved in his direction, nodded in greeting and sat one seat away at the same table. She understood the need for space and silence.

Pulling out her tablet, Dev started looking up personnel records and placing names to the faces in the mess hall. She ate the food with methodical scoops of her fork and stopped thinking about the taste and texture after the first yucky bite. "Note to self: make a food synthesizer stat." she whispered to herself. She grinned and then returned to watching the people gathering in the mess hall and matching them to their records.

Ah. The dark haired gentleman is Colton Ford in Security department.

Dev vaguely wondered when the briefing would start, if is she's twenty-four or twenty-six now, what her duties would be, what kind of state Galileo is in, if there are any survivors and whether or not she can do something about the food. Bleah!
 
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Ashleigh - Tagging: Victor, Maddison, and Bryanna

Her skin crawled. She couldn't stop shivering. Ashleigh gasped and struggled to come to herself. Her eyelids fluttered open, grey eyes staring, seeing nothing.

The chamber door to her capsule opened with a hiss, fogged glass swinging open. She lifted first one leg and then the other to step out, her natural leg as steady as a limp noodle. Only her artificial leg prevented her fall.

Light assaulted her eyes. She blinked it away as best she could, fighting both the brightness and the way her skin wouldn't stop shivering. She was wet. Soaked. Her shoulder-length hair clung to her scalp. She felt like clothing left too long in the wash. As if to protest her condition, her body started to retch, her shoulders hunched forward, clear liquid spewing from her lips to the floor.

It was gross. She felt gross. Ashleigh staggered back and placed a hand against the open capsule to steady herself. It was a moment before she thought to look down, to inspect the way she was dressed. Slick skin greeted her sight, and she rushed to cross her arms over her breasts, realizing finally that she wore only her bra and panties.

A black lace bra cupped and covered her ample breasts. A matching thong clung to her hips, her cheeks divided by it. Her face wore a hot blush, and she hurriedly looked around for clothing, for anything to wear. If only someone had warned her, she wouldn't have dressed like this for the cryosleep!

A voice assailed her ears. Her hand darted down to cover herself. Her blush only deepened with the realization that it was only the A.I. giving instructions. Get dressed and report to the Mess Hall? Get dressed with what? She couldn't remember anything about what they were supposed to do after waking up.

Ashleigh did the only thing she could think to do. She wandered aimlessly, her eyes darting around to be sure no one saw her. Blue lights on the floor started to point the way to somewhere, and she followed them on the off-chance they'd lead to clothing without embarrassing her along the way.

Score! The lights did lead to her room! The shower within was a mercy, and she peeled off her bra and thong, the fabric clinging, resisting. The warm water kissed her skin, and she breathed a sigh of contentment, turning about to wash herself free of the cryosleep capsule's liquid.

She was shivering again with the water turned off and hastily grabbed a towel, using it to wick away the drops of water on her skin. Her hair hung damp around her face even after suffering the towel's touch. Ashleigh found the luggage she'd packed two years prior and dressed quickly, slipping on a blue and white striped thong and matching bra. Hip hugging jeans went over the thong, and she tugged a grey t-shirt down over her tits. Sensible sneakers completed her outfit.

She worried that she might be running behind and rushed from her room. The sound of voices guided her to the Mess Hall. Her stomach rumbled as she entered, reminding her of its needs.

Mess Hall

The trays and food line were self-explanatory. She grabbed a tray and slipped into line. But uncertainty played within her gaze the moment she actually saw the... food. Her stomach turned and not with hunger. She scrunched up her nose as piles of... something were plopped down onto her tray.

Turning from the line, she faced another moment of uncertainty but quickly decided to take a seat at the same table as a man and two other women. She slid into a seat on the same side as the blonde and gazed around the table, piping up immediately with “It can't taste as bad as it looks, can it?”
 
Ben - Tagging: Sofia

His fingers drummed against the capsule's inside wall. Tap, tap, tap. His eyelids twitched, lashes fluttering. His eyes snapped open, lids peeled back from widely staring sea-green orbs. He couldn't comprehend it. Didn't know where he was. Once before he'd woken up just like this with no idea of what happened. That was the time the doctors told him he'd lost his heart, and that they'd replaced it with some infernal machine.

Which part was he missing this time? Would he reach up to find machines in his eye sockets? He blinked. No, this was his natural, familiar blurry vision. A smile broke out across his face. He looked ridiculous. Soaked to the skin, wearing only black boxer briefs, and sealed inside a capsule. But he was smiling.

The clouded glass door swung open, and fresh air rushed in to chill him. He shivered. Fuck. Southern boys were not meant for the cold. One foot before the other, he pulled himself from the capsule and immediately fell to his knees, his muscles weak and resisting after two years of stasis. He opened his mouth in what started as a cough and ended as him vomiting up clear fluid. Not his proudest moment.

Ben lurched to his feet. A hand against the doorway to steady himself. The A.I. droned on about the Mess Hall, and he shook off that imperative as unimportant right now. He needed warm water. Something warm to soak into his skin. Blue lights glowing along the floor guided his feet, leading him as he squinted to see well enough to see them.

His door slid open. The dark room was a blessing after the confined space of the capsule. He found the shower and didn't even strip off the boxer briefs before reveling in the warm water. But then he felt like an idiot showering in his underwear and peeled away the boxer briefs before tossing the soaked garment.

He came out of the shower dripping water and toweled off. Stepping out into his room nude, he found his luggage and pulled on a new pair of boxers. A moment of indecision came in which he didn't know how to dress for the upcoming gathering in the Mess Hall, but he figured black slacks, a nondescript navy blue t-shirt, and boots would do well enough. He set his black glasses on his face last and smiled as his vision finally came into focus.

Now would probably be a good time to make his way to the Mess Hall. It was what was expected of him after all. And it's not like he had somewhere else to be.

Mess Hall

He found the Mess Hall with little to no searching. The voices coming from within made it fairly easy to locate. He stood in the doorway a moment and leaned against its frame, looking out over the strangers gathered in the room, musing on the prospect of working with them in the upcoming mission. A glance to his left revealed the tray station and food line. Squinting, he could make out the goo they were passing out as food, and he could not muster any level of excitement for going over there.

But he knew he needed to eat. Two years in cryosleep wasn't the best thing for the body. He grabbed a tray and made his way into line, watching as each color of the goo made its way onto his tray. He felt like a kid about to eat clay.

With his tray carried before him, he made his way to one of the long tables and sat across from a brunette, her violet eyes drawing his gaze for an instant. But this felt like a moment for silent reflection, a moment to compose yourself after the realization that two years have passed while you were on ice. He poked at the mess on his tray and took a hesitant bite as he mulled over the mission and the prospect of living aboard a spaceship.
 
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Bill - Tagging: Kat

Empty thoughts, empty mind. That's how Bill Traves liked things when he rested. Though he began to realize that he was actively thinking those thoughts as consciousness flooded into his mind. He sensed a brightness through his lidded eyes and the jarring electronic speech of the AI seemed to rattle around inside his head. The tightness in his chest was uncomfortable to say the least but he wanted to lay still as if it wasn't time to wake.

The burning sensation in his chest welled to an unbearable state forcing him to roll onto his side as clear liquid spewed from his mouth. It reminded him of a distant past where a similar sensation occured during basic training in the Colonial Navy. A seemingly arcane ritual hailing to the days where the Navy was full of water vessels instead of vessels traveling through space. Intended to teach one not to panic as they were submerged underwater and felt their life force slipping away, though most cadets seemed to think it was a rite of passage these days. Bill sprawled over onto his stomach, eyes still closed, as his hands felt for the edge of the cryosleep chamber and leaned over the edge. He alternated between attempting to take deep breaths and retching up another bout of clear viscous liquid.

Bill laid on his stomach for some time; he heard sounds of others adjusting to the consequences of cryosleep. One voice sounded extremely peppy as she spoke about showers and mess hall. His mind glossed over those comments as he was singularly focused on clearing the liquid out of his lungs as strands of goop broke and fell onto the ground. Someone was going to have a hell of a time cleaning this mess up.

Bill felt chill as a gust from the ship's ventilation system blew across his exposed damp body, certain parts starting to dry and become sticky with a honey like consistency. White boxer briefs, which were now essentially see through, clung to his groin and the stiffness of his morning wood, his body's way of greeting him in the morning. A high pitched warble emitted from his stomach signaling his body's desire for sustenance. Now this feeling was something he couldn't ignore as a man who loved to eat.

He roused, eyes opening, as he placed a firm hand onto the metal that supported him and lifted himself into a sitting position before cautiously lowering himself onto the slick floor. Looking around, it seems like most of chambers had open lids and were devoid of their occupants. "God damn late already," he muttered under his breath. Using the empty chambers, Bill walked towards the exit of the lab. With every step, he felt the life and confidence flow back into his taut legs. His pace quickened as he made his way following the blue lights that glowed along the floor.

He came up upon a restroom, the sign showing that showers were inside. Looking ahead at where the blue lines led him, they disappeared around a corner about 20 feet in front of him. He looked down and drug a finger along the goop that covered his thick torso, bringing up the finger to eye level and watched the goop fall to the floor. "Fuck this shit," he growled and barged into the restroom wanting to cleanse his body of this filth.

***

Wrapping a white towel around his waist, Bill exited the washroom, beads of hot water rolling down the crevices of his body, and made his way towards his quarters. He slid the door open with ease and was greeted with his belongings in their proper location. Or at least what he remembered. This time, the warble from his stomach lasted far too long than it should and a sharp pain coursed through the right side of his ribs. "Alright, alright," he muttered in annoyance as he dried himself off and opened the closet.

He pulled out a pair of grey slacks, straight legged and fit well on his body. He pulled a black tee shirt which stretched itself over his torso before he closed the closet door. While he had nothing against color, black seemed to suit him well. Bill pulled black socks over his feet before stepping into a pair black boots, clicking his heels together as he stood up straight. Turning towards the mirror, he caught the media console in his room reading December 25, 3094 as the sounds of the AI speaking the date reverberated in his memory. He turned to look out the small diamond shaped port hole, gazing out into the depths of space. The stars reminded him of snowflakes and he let out a light guffaw. "At least it's a white Christmas," he said sarcastically to himself.

Turning back to the media console, he pulled out a wire and reached a hand towards the base of his neck, feeling for two metal discs. Bill wanted to see if the ocular implant, bestowed upon him by Oracle, was disabled during cryosleep. The implant recorded the last 48 hours of visual data while replacing his left eye. If it wasn't disabled, he might have some data that would remind him of the current mission or any of his comrades on this ship.

Feeling the for left port, he guided the cord to the hard metallic circle and plugged it in, sending a shiver down his spine. Alas, all that was displayed on the TV was the darkness of closed eyes. With a swift rake of his hand through his short black hair, Bill disconnected the cable and exited the room making his way to the mess hall.

Mess Hall

Grabbing a tray and moving down the line, his eyes glazed over a... unique woman that seemed to be the one serving food. He just nodded to the woman and waved his hand in a sweeping motion over the unappealing mess. While he held out his plate, Bill braced himself for the coming struggle but something needed to fill his aching belly.

After shuffling down the line and having the privilege of obtaining the rainbow on his plate, Bill gave the lunch woman a wavering smile and curt nod as he lifted up his tray; the food on his tray seemingly to waving back at him. Heading to the table of beverages, he filled his cup with water. With his tray now complete, Bill turned and eyed the long tables, stools dotting their length.

He walked towards the table and took notice of the people that lined their seats. Most of them seemed to have trouble stomaching the food as they poked and prodded the gelatinous grub. Others decided not to even eat at all; Bill wondered if they made the right choice after all. Though a crimson haired woman caught his eye as she pulled a lighter and a pack of smokes from the confines of her pants. Her plate was surprisingly empty even if not licked clean. That alone perked his interest more than anything else. Well, the voluptuous curves of her pale body didn't hurt either.

Moving to the opposite side of the table, Bill set down his tray unceremoniously as he plopped onto the stool. He didn't sit directly in front of her but instead one seat to her right as he sucked in a deep breath before digging in. The food at best was tasteless and bland but it also didn't get much worse than that. Well, the jelly like consistency of the sides left something to be desired. He jawed at the food in a bovine manner as he steeled himself to the task of finishing the meal.

Halfway through the tray, he looked up taking a good look at the crewmate he sat across from. A smoky haze seemed to float around her short fiery mane streaked with black. Her carmine eyes were piercing, contrasting with her lush dark lashes, even through the smoke that she seemed to greatly enjoy.

Shoveling food in his mouth in an informal manner, he gave her a brief nod as he lifted a cold glass of water to his lips. Water helped ease the food down his throat though he felt it attempt to escape as he unleashed a brief guttural belch. "Do you think we at least get a fuckin' sticker for finishing our plates?", he sarcastically asked the pale woman; his voice carrying a light southern drawl as the corner of his lips pulled up in a wry smirk.
 
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Tagging - Bryanna and Victor

Madison had long ago learned the dangers of eating unfamiliar food from an unfamiliar place. Her residency in medical school had hardened her stomach to nearly rock like proportions, but the gunk that wiggled and jiggled on everybody’s plates made her stomach turn in the most nauseating way. Maybe some MRE’s would be discovered somewhere on board. She supposed that she could hold out until that momentous moment came.

Lost in her own thoughts, Madison was startled when she heard someone’s voice addressing her directly. Turning her light blue gaze towards the other woman, she glanced down at the cup held between her fingers and then back at the woman. Without thought, she reached up and brushed away a strand of purple hair that had escaped her rubber band before she replied.

“It’s nearly as thick as mud.” She said bluntly in regards to the steaming brew. “But I had much worse during my residency. Wanna be doctors always make the shittiest coffee.”

Glancing to the side, she then turned her attentions towards the man that was sitting beside her. He was struggling to finish a chicken sandwich and she watched the hesitation cross his features. It was a shame. It actually looked the closest to real food.

“Here. You probably need this more than I do.” She said as she slid her cup towards him. “Now either swallow or spit it out. If you make yourself sick, you’ll find no sympathy from me.”

It was probably the truth to say that Madison had a somewhat cold bedside manner. She didn’t like coddling people, especially when they were the ones that had put themselves at risk in the first place. With all the noise buzzing around her from the talking and the machinery, it was putting her in an extremely foul mood. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up, walk from the Mess Hall, and hide in the sick bay where she could be of some real use. Alas, it seemed that Oracle was stealing her time with the same red tape and bullshit that had gotten them into this mess in the first place.
 
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Sofia Vasco: Mess Hall Tagging: Bryanna, Victor, Katherine, Colton, Ben

The surrounding noise of the mess hall is a dull buzz in the back of her mind. She is aware of the others, but a fog clouds her mind like when one wakes up from nap that leaves you groggy rather than refreshed. Still feeling nauseous she can’t tell if it’s a side effect of the cyro-chamber or the unappealing food substance. Her thoughts drift to her family and the fantastic meal they’d be preparing as part of the holiday celebration. The main house would be filled with a cornucopia of smells, sweet breads and a variety of courses in various stages of cooking. The length of the butcher block would hold the ingredients for tamales which her aunts would assemble. The amount of food they cooked on a holiday, especially Christmas could feed an army then again she came from a large family; five generations lived on or close to Vasco Estates. This would be the fourth Christmas she hasn’t been home. Two years before she was hired by Oracle she had been living in London and there had been no time to travel home. In fact, she’d not even had time for one last trip home before this mission. Those bittersweet thoughts bring on an aching wave of homesickness.

Swallowing a lump in her throat the fork is set down and the tray shoved to the side as she blinks away the threat of tears. Get it together Vasco you don’t want your first impression to be of you crying. Taking in a deep breath she pushes away the thoughts of her family and lifts her eyes to scan the room. A few others had sat down at the table and to her surprise two of them had sandwiches of some kind, but as she watches each take a bite the disappointment is apparent.

Feeling capable of only ingesting her water she quietly observes the other members, most of which were gathered at the same long table though she had chosen to remain separate while she adjusts from two years of frozen slumber. There is one man sitting alone and her violet eyes linger on him for several seconds before the actions of the red headed woman lighting up a cigarette draws her attention away. Interesting. Yes, they all seem like an interesting group. And while she looks forward to knowing them she is more interested to see what kind of community they will develop while living on the ship.

It’s on the heel of those thoughts that a man sits opposite of her, violet eyes shift to him and unconsciously a small smile touches her lips. The fact that he is wearing glasses is the first thing she notices, so few people worn them anymore, she had even had corrective surgery which is when she had the color of her eyes changed. Silence lingers between them for a few seconds before she softly comments, “If you’re still feeling nauseous I wouldn’t recommend the gelatinous substance though I’m sure it’s packed full of nutritious vitamins meant to replenish our bodies, at least that is what I told myself as I attempted a few bites.”
 
Rita Jackson - Mess Hall / Tags: Everyone

Rita had been standing a few feet before the tables most of the crew had occupied. She had watched some scarf down their meals, while others dissected it with looks of distaste and sadness—oh no! Some crew members were gazing upon her with anticipation. She smiled and her eyes glittered with cheer. They were just as eager as she was to go to work. She chose not to disappoint them further. Spreading her arms and then bringing her hands together in a light clap, Rita announced—her voice ringing as though it were tapped into the comm system of the ship, “Merry Christma~s!”

With her hands still clutching each other, she sauntered about the tables as she dove headfirst into the brief.

“First of all, I want to apologize for the food not being to your liking. It is a nutritious blend, essential for the digestive system after a long, two-year period in cryosleep. If any of you had vomited, then that would be a problem we’d have to look into.” Not like the texture of the food would have anything to do with that. “Now, may I have your eyes? Not literally of course.”

She giggled musically before she stopped to wave her hand in the direction of the blank space that separated the dining section from the far wall. The lights dimmed and a neon-blue holographic map blossomed before their eyes in the shape of a massive ship with several squares to the left and right depicting data such as height, weight, length, number of personnel, the types of engineering equipment that not many would understand but perhaps the navigators and engineers, and the weapon systems. The ship slowly rotated, giving the observers a look from all angles.

“This is the Galileo. It’s a research vessel that had gone missing ten years ago. Dr. Calvin Denver has brought all of you here to investigate, excavate, and find out as much as we can about its disappearance before we haul it back to Earth. Later, he will be able to say more about the Galileo’s mission. Now, all of you have been chosen because each and every one of you have proven to be top-notch in your field, whether you believe so or not. I expect great things from you all.”

Just then as the director was elaborating on her explanation, she happened to walk behind Kat and dexterously, she plucked the cigarette right from her fingers.

There is no smoking on the ship. We don’t want to contaminate the air space, now do we? she spoke to Reed off the intercom.

The cancer stick was extinguished against her palm and when she’d near an incinerator bin, she’d dispose of it.

“This diagram of the ship is from ten years ago, so I cannot tell you what has become of it since. Because the Odysseus has come out of hibernation after two years of sweeping the galaxy, it means that the Galileo is nearby. Perhaps a few nautical light miles...we will be boarding the vessel when we find it, and so I can’t stress safety and security. The Galileo is ten-times the size of the Odysseus. Not all of you will be permitted on the first excursion for your duties are here. You will be given suits if you don’t already have your own and you are to wear those suits at all times so as not to risk contamination or asphyxiation. The air lock may not be functioning in some parts of the ship. Actually, the ship isn’t functioning at all. This is why we have engineers. You will repair the Galileo enough to permit yourselves movement from one sector to the other. As you go, I hope that you use the scouters to map the place. If the Galileo’s communication systems weren’t offline, then I would be able to upload its plan. Unfortunately, it must be done manually...”

Disposing of the cigarette, Rita patted her hands clean and folded them before her lap again.

“If either of you become lost, use the communication system in your helmets to contact each other and The Bridge. We will be watching and listening through each of you. In case of danger, return to the Trojan immediately. The life of each and every one of you is crucial to not only our survival but to accomplish the mission. Please employ common sense.”

When Rita faced the group and the hologram vanished as the lights brightened the mess hall again.

“I ask nothing of you tonight. All of you are free to get acquainted with your places of duty or utilize the recreational room and gym. Have a merry Christmas and feel free to drink from the bar just for tonight. I expect all of you to be sober by tomorrow. I expect us to find the ship tonight. You will report in The Locker at 0700. If you are absent or physically and mentally incapable of performing your duties, then you will wind up in the brig until the team has returned. Now, are there any questions concerning your duties? There is a much finer cuisine in the freezers and storage rooms of the cafeteria. I only ask that each of you be safe.”
 
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