Deep Space IC

[Nordican]

Corcin turned and looked over to Victor when he settled in next to Grace. The junior helmsman finished off his OJ and then gave a smile noticing that Kat hadn't made any appearance yet and that perhaps some of the rumors so far weren't too far off point.

"Nice of you to join the land of the living." Corcin grunted before wiping off his lips with a napkin and then looked towards the others for a moment and recalling something about the briefing last night before they had started drinking.

His eyes paused and looked over to Grace for a moment. 'Amongst other things'

Past that he recalled that they were supposed to report to the Locker. Well at least those who'd be going on the team and as junior helmsman he would be taking up the helm of the Trojan landing craft so long as Rex's little stint yesterday hadn't made Rita want to switch their jobs.

He cleaned up the rest of his food and then swung by the other side of the table and gave Grace a playful wink before moving towards the door.

"Alright ladies and gents I'm off. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast and I'll see the rest of you once I'm back from operation Drive people from one ship to another." Corcin said with a smile and then a impromptu two finger salute before he headed out the door and over to the locker area.

Locker.

Once he arrived Corcin greeted those who had already taken up residence and quickly started donning the appropriate spacesuit for his part of the operation.

The Orion spacesuit was definitely one of the more advanced spacesuits that Corcin had ever had a chance to wear. He knew his main focus would be in the Trojan but but given the videos of recorded explosive decompression that he had seen the pilot always preferred to err on the side of caution, and not exploding eyeballs.

 

[Light Ice]

There was a place for memories here. Now. The Locker was the eventual destination for the crew. A staging area. He sat alone, far from where he suspected most would gather. His prickly presence, unnerving by nature, often saw fit to chase the butterflies of the group to the opposite side of the room. He avoided places with congregated seating. He avoided places where interaction was encouraged. It allowed him more moments of peace. More moments of quiet. More moments like this where the memories came and he, for a moment, felt like more than a cog in the great machine of life.

Elsa had been twenty-two, round-cheeked and bright eyed and he had loved her. Loved her, really, from the moment that he had seen her. For all his faults, and they were many, Colton had never been a timid man. His pursuit had charmed her for all its stoic certainty. He had lacked the suave jokes or subtle jests of the others fighting for her attention. He had never really been much to make a woman laugh. Instead, through diligence and raw sentimentality, he had won her heart with a promise of strength and commitment. He was not a man whose words of affection were to be taken lightly. His compliments were always from the heart.

She had loved that about him. At first.

But his life was that of a soldier. It was not in his nature to shirk a responsibility. The Marines were called and called again, his unit first amongst them. Special Forces. First in, last out. The long jumps from home devoured relationships. Ate them alive. It stole from Elsa the confidence his presence brought. Their conversations over the Holo were dry and one-sided. He was not chatty. He did not articulate thoughts, feelings, and fears particularly well.

She had left him as politely as a woman could given the circumstance. Given that he wasn't there. She had tried to be courageous and forward. Honest. It had hurt. His heart had broken. He had taken that feeling with him on the jump to the small mining colony where a dispute over retirement benefits had turned violent and the small powder keg of discontent erupted into a full-out armed mutiny. The fighting had been very hard. The miners and security contingency amongst them, knew the area well and were very clever. Many men died.

He'd killed a few.

And it was there that Colton had realized that even though he would not remain a Marine - he would remain a killer. His rifle had felt comforting against his shoulder, bucking sharply, pushing large caseless rounds into men firing back at him. It was not something he'd wanted to learn about himself. He, in some small and terrible way, enjoyed killing. It took the horrible rent in his heart and stitched it up with concrete. It made him hard. It locked the hurt up inside where it couldn't come out.

Now, within The Locker, he rose up to briefly ensure he was not leaving useful things aside. The thigh pouch for grenades that he'd strapped on was full. He had taken four, one white-phosphorous. Amongst his ammunition pouches was one loaded with high-density AP rounds. He doubted, even in the very worst case of pirates, that it would see use.

The nanomachines rushing through his blood-stream relayed data in a steam stream through his HUD. He took a small comfort in the scrolling bits of information. Here, within The Locker, he did not turn on the onboard sensor suite to its more active modes. Instead, on passive, he took time now to authenticate himself with the ship's onboard tactical controller and register in. It allowed him a similar bit of information in return. The crew's location and biometrics would be accessible to him, displayed on his HUD.

His job, here, was to ensure they all safely returned and the objective was completed. His standing orders were simple and at the same time brutally complicated. Scientists, in his experience, were sometimes too intelligent for their own good. They were intrigued where they should be afraid. They had pressures from within the company to accomplish things. This, in a combat situation, spelled disaster. He had seen it first hand years ago when a young engineer attempted to make a power converter come online in the middle of a firefight. The first round had taken his left leg clean off at the knee. The other turned his head into a canoe.

And a grenade took care of three Marines attempting to cover him and drag him back out of the fray.

There was little chance that would happen here. For one, the situation just didn't feel that dangerous. The team was too small for the Oracle Company to have expected a real firefight. That, really, and the ship they were exploring was a research vessel. Colton wasn't going to take this lightly. It was against his nature to relax when he was on the clock. But, still, he felt over-dressed in his armor and with the firepower he and the other Security Officers would inevitably be carrying.

The others started to filter in. And he started to think of Nadia.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - to the Infirmary

“…I end up on her very warn seat....if you know what I mean...doc."

Rex made Grace laugh, she couldn’t help it, she didn’t mean to and she did try to stop.

“Oh, I get what you mean.” The laughter still in her voice as she nodded her head.

Grace’s smile deepened as Corcin said his good-byes and sent her a parting wink. She would have winked in return but had never mastered that trick and any attempt came out looking a scowl. She sincerely had no wish to frighten him like that.

“I guess this party is winding down.” She said to no one specifically, as she organized her breakfast tray. “I should head back to the infirmary and see if I can find my nurse.”

With a parting wave she rose from the table and removed her tray to the disposal area before leaving the mess hall and making quick work of the short walk to the infirmary.

Errant memories of the past night ripped through her mind in flashes of naked skin and guttural moans. With a quick reflexive swallow she pushed those thoughts away and glanced around the room.

“Yelena?” She called for the beautiful dark haired nurse and then took at the seat behind her desk. Unconsciously, she reached for the cold coffee that remained from before breakfast and took a sip.

 

[HotKittygirl]

People were already filing out as Kat emerged within the mess hall, those crimson orbs flashing brilliantly under the bright lights. The Security Officer wore little, a pair of skimpy shorts slitted at the sides and a tank top, both black. Her hair was wild and unkempt, sticking out here and there but otherwise looking fresh and radiant. From between those plush lips dangled another of her cancer sticks, thus far she hadn’t run into Rita thankfully, a girl needed her morning jolt of nicotine and other harsh, deadly chemicals. A pair of worn and ratty slip-ons covered her feet, scuffing lightly with each step she took. She didn’t bother to take a look around, no, she was ravenous after last night’s affair and this morning. She never actually had eaten anything the day before and now she felt almost shaky, especially after all that ‘work out’ time. Kat also need she was going to need all the fuel she could get, it was going to be a busy day. She just hoped she was going into the ship and not playing guard duty...Kat was never good at awaiting.

She piled several plates with as much as they could fit, eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, it didn’t matter really, she grabbed a bit of everything and slathered them with salt and pepper, butter, syrup, it was all going down the same way and ended up in the same place as well. She also managed to fit a cup of black coffee on her tray along with a cup of orange juice and one of apple juice. She carried the tray easily and found her way towards what remained of the gathering group, at least it seemed a few others were getting use to this little camping trip and decided not to sulk in their corners.

She sat down near Victor, Grace, and the others. Still her cigarette was smoldering as she sat, though it was all but gone. She puffed a light before drawing it away to exhale slowly.

“Mornin’, ladies;” Kat said in her typical tone, the look on her face indistinguishable from the one she wore yesterday. She was always smiling, if you could call that smirk a smile, it always seemed to hint that she knew something she wasn’t letting on. She made sure those red eyes fell upon the men at the table to, just so they knew they were part of the greeting.

“The pigshit doesn’t look so shitty today,” She said as she hefted a fork and stabbed at her meal. She didn’t pick at it like the day before, no, with gusto she dug in. With relish she devoured her food, elbows on the table and hunched over her tray. She ate like it was going out of style, as if she would never get to eat again. Things were piled into her mouth with no rhyme or reason, though she never went so far as to over-stuff her mouth at one time. Still, she made surprisingly short work of her meal, stopping only for the occasional sip from one of three cups. It wasn’t until she had packed almost all of it away that Kat leaned back and released a quaking belch, her cup of coffee in her hand before she even finished.

 

[HotCider]

Victor Caldwell

The group had left the table in silence without a greeting offered. He didn’t make a big deal about it since he didn’t give one of his own, but it was awkward how they decided to migrate at the same time. He slipped a piece of sausage in his mouth and leisurely munched on it as he turned his wrist to regard his watch that projected 0645 in neon-blue light. They still had fifteen minutes. In the military, the motto was “If you’re on time, you’re late.” Well, this wasn’t the military and no early bird was getting a worm that he’d want to eat.

The Mess Hall doors swished back and out strode the Red Queen. Her outfit almost looked out of character for her. Girl shorts? Come on. He was expecting the type that ran all the way down to the knees and left everything to the imagination. Smirking at his thoughts, he slipped the second link into his mouth and picked up his silverware to begin working on the French toast.

Mornin’, ladies.

Victor didn’t pay her any mind. She was not talking to him. They had missed all the good conversation. If there had been any. Who knew with the people he met so far. They had left the card table after he and Kat departed. From what he knew, he thought they had gone to bed. At least he and Kat had a glorious Christmas—somewhat. She was still a stubborn fuck. He had been picking around her mines for hours last night and when he finally struck gold, he came out covered in more than just coal dust. His bedroom, particularly his bed, was a fucking mess. She better had had a good Christmas and a good morning!

Behind a glass of OJ that he didn’t return to the table until he had drained it dry, his grey eyes watched Kat scarf down her food like a crack addict. Setting down the cup, he glanced to his watch again 0650. He couldn’t say he could blame her. They must have broken a calorie record. Picking up his pace, he smirked as he tore into the cantaloupe and honey dew slices. He bit and sucked at the sweet juice, competing in a silent challenge against Kat on who could finish first. The rinds he left had been eaten down to the white and all that was left was hot apple sauce and grits.

He picked up the first bowl and his spoon clattered as he scraped the hot sauce into his mouth. Setting down the bowl, he picked up the grits next and gave them the same treatment. Finished! He glanced to Kat, and she seemed to have finished too—psh! Picking up his tray and the remaining cup of black coffee, Victor walked it over to the dish rack and neatly set everything inside it. The coffee was still scalding, and so he put it under the ice machine that instantly started absorbing the heat the drink gave off. Victor held down the button until the sides of the mug began to frost, and then released it.

Picking up the coffee mug, Victor swallowed down the bitter liquid. It was like gulping down freezing milk and he took a breath between each swallow to prevent brain freeze. Setting the mug in the rack, he was off to The Locker. The Marine hadn’t meant to add to the silence around the table, but there hadn’t been time for small conversation only to eat and run.

The Locker

The doors hissed open and Victor glanced to his watch 0659—right on time. It brought a naughty smile to his face as he imagined a superior officer chewing him out.

“Morning,” Victor greeted plainly and walked over to get comfortable on one of the steel benches.

The Marine crossed his arms behind his head and slumped back against the wall. He was pregnant with quite the food baby, but he was glad he got to finish his breakfast in time—mostly his coffee. Having an empty stomach when he was going to be lugging around heavy equipment was no fun.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - The Locker

“Oh, bollocks!”

Grace noticed the time. It was nearly 0700 and she knew if she didn’t hurry she’s be late for the morning briefing. She jumped out of her chair, narrowly avoided spilling her coffee and, with the reflexes of a doctor accustomed to being on call, reached for her white lab coat.

She slipped into the garment as she made her way to The Locker and was fully arrayed in the symbol of her calling by the time she joined the others.

She entered the room, surprised by the enthusiasm she was feeling. She had not anticipated this but somehow just being out in space was proving far more exciting than she anticipated.

“Good morning,” she cheerfully chirped and quickly grabbed a seat on the bench.

 

[Sylnaeve]

Dr. Nadia Pavelova - The Locker

The door to the Locker opened with the usual swishing hiss and Nadia walked in, noting that it was little populated as of yet. Not surprising, really. Given that it was the first night after unfreezing and the liquor had been available, she expected most of them would come rushing in just before the "bell," as it were.

She hoped none of them were late. Nadia did not doubt the cheerily ruthless Ship Director's proclamation of brig time for any tardiness for a moment. She hated to think of anyone crammed into the little closet that served as the brig...of course, she also didn't like the idea of going over to Galileo with the second string either.

Nadia made her way to the storage locker with her name on it and suddenly stopped. There was a presence, a feeling of...oh. She turned her head and saw him then, sitting alone and away from everyone was Colton Ford. She felt a thrill as she saw him; mingled fear, remembered pleasure, worry, and bemusement.

She hesitated a moment. If he wanted to be alone, she shouldn't disturb him. Many ex-military types liked quiet and near-isolation before starting something like this, at least many of those she'd met and worked with.

But then she turned and approached him with a smile. Nadia walked up to him, standing only a few feet away. "Good morning, Colton." Her eyes were friendly and warm as she took him in. "I don't know if you heard me before you left last night, but thank you. You, it was...well, it was wonderful. Perhaps we can do it again soon."

She gave him another smile and turned away, walking back to her locker. She didn't expect him to respond. She didn't know why but she just felt that...he wasn't the type to talk at all unless it was absolutely necessary.

Nadia spent the rest of the time until the briefing checking over her gear and then suiting up. The Rhea class space suit went on loose and baggy, Nadia tugging it on over her tight fitting clothes, closing it up, and then activating the advanced outfit. There were several hisses and whooshes as pressure shifted and cloth reacted and shrank, the suit suddenly form fitted and molded to her body as it if were a second skin. She testing the range of movement, stretching her way through a few simple yoga positions. As she did so, the datalink hairpins ran a systems check of the suit, confirming that it was working properly.

She glanced down at herself and sighed a little. It really did made her tits and ass obvious and look almost ridiculously big. The engineers who designed it must have been perverts.

After that, she clipped her medical kit onto the belt, as well as the other odds and ends that were standard issue for a mission of this kind. Once they were in place, it was time for the last piece of gear she needed.

Nadia stepped over to a special equipment locker, tapping in her pass code. The storage system bleeped and then opened. Rather than pull something out, she slipped open a trio of valves on her space suit's right hand and forearm, then stood sideways and pushed her arm into the storage unit. There was another set of hisses and mechanical whirring; Nadia wincing slightly. It went on for perhaps a minute and then ceased. She nodded and then drew her arm out of the locker.

Fitted onto her right hand and extending over the forearm up to her elbow was a large gauntlet. It made her right hand and forearm look about twice their normal size though it moved as easily and normally as her own hand. Each long, dextrous finger ended with a flat snub-nosed sensor and nozzle system capable of analyzing chemicals and either extruding or even spraying counter agents or sucking in and pressurizing a sample for more detailed analysis in the lab. The Hazardous Material Inspection and Transport Tool, usually called a MITT, was the latest in personal chemical investigation and neutralization. Nadia had actually been part of the design team for it; albeit in a long distance capacity.

She flexed her MITT and nodded; the device checked out properly. Nadia then picked her suit's helmet up and tucked it under her left arm and moved to a sit on a bench, waiting for the briefing to begin. As the others began to troop in, including Victor, Nadia favored them all with a smile and a good natured wave of the MITT.

 

[HotKittygirl]

Kat didn’t mind the silence, after all there was little room to talk when you were really going at your food. She seemed to finish in time with Victor, though she really paid it no mind; it wasn’t a contest. There was precious little time after they had diddled in the shower for much longer than Kat had expected. Even as she rose and dumped the trash and chugged her drink she forced any lingering thoughts back in their rightful place. Kat was nothing if not denying reality, if only for a short while. Thankfully they had the mission ahead of them and it would take all her attention.

She debated on another cigarette as she trotted down the hallways, though the thought of running into that little bitch kept her craving in check; it would make it all the more sweeter when she returned. It never crossed her mind that it would be a one way trip, she’d survived worse or so she thought. She followed almost on the heels of Victor, right under at the end of the timeframe required. The crew was assembling here though Kat gave them only a causal glance as she made her way towards her own locker. Without a second thought she began to set about preparing her gear. The heavy metal door of the locker was opened as she peered into, that smirk turning into a full-fledged smile as she reached inside and withdrew a thick belt and holstered pistol. It was a bulky thing, looking more like an old world revolver than some kind of energy weapon. She held it almost lovingly before she set it back aside and bent at the waist, setting about getting everything in working order before the briefing began. She always hated that part, the babble and the orders; just give them the direction and shut the hell up.

She began to suit up then, her own suit of customized Rhea armor. The color scheme was red on black, much like her hair. It was form fitting and clung greedily to that svelte frame, though it added a certain bulk to her due to the reinforced protection she had added to it. She flexed and stretched her arms and legs to test out the mobility before she brought her right arm before her and tensed her forearm fully. The thickly reinforced forearm guard reacted and in the blink of an eye a serrated blade shot forth several inches past her fingertips. Kat let her crimson gaze trail over its length, watching the light catch it over the well-honed length. With a satisfied smirk she withdrew the blade and set about retrieving the rest of her armor, the grinning skull helmet of same color scheme which was set aside. She withdrew the thick ammo belt and wrapped it about her slender waist, the holster of her pistol resting comfortably at her left hip. The next thing she retrieved was another belt that wrapped tightly about her mid-section, a curious arm-like device extending from it with a clamp on the end. Kat secured it into place, making sure it was tight and secure with a light huff. It had been sometime since she felt so covered, the tightness of the armor was a welcoming sensation she had all but forgotten.

 

[Carreira]

Rukka Nova - The Locker

Rukka had left the mess hall a minute ago and he was now in the locker's outer door. The door hissed open and he entered the room.

Hands on his pockets, a big lab coat framing his shirt and tie that flew around and a sports backpack with his gear in, he blew a bubble from his gum till it popped and he chewed it a bit before saying: Heyz Heys!

He looked at the different crewmembers and thought - "well we have a grunt, zero suit samus from the classic game metroid, the girl who is always making fun of everyone... what a bunch.

He then chewed a bit more on his gum, leaned to the wall raising his right foot to support him there and continued: "Curious to finding out if a new specimen for me has entered the abandoned ship? You will be surprised about the amount of organisms like space-plankton that gathers on abandoned ships - I hope we find nothing bigger than a flea tough... but for the look of those bags full of grenades, we got to be ready for everything ya?"

 

[BRIGHTWELL]

Rex /The Locker

Rex finished his last piece of fruit. He watched as the "happy little band " exited the Mess hall. He carried his tray over to the serving area. Turned and follow the crowd. He heard the locker door swish as he got near. Then the door opened and he slid in.

He watches as a couple of the crew start to change. I'm happy you know whats going on. He was sure Rita was going to make one of her welcome to the new world and now go get'm speech.

Rex found a piece of wall and leaned waiting for the breifing to begin. Oh how I love my job....are we home yet?

 

[Nordican]

Corcin nodded to Rex as the senior helmsman made his appearance. No doubt the others shared Corcin's anticipation for Rita to eventually make her entrance and get the briefing under way. As he finished suiting up in his space suit and latching on the compact Smith and Wesson KL-44. As a pilot he rarely ever saw the need for the weapon but it was a old gift from his father and Corcin never went a on a mission without it.

Then content that his gear was all ready to go and he had everything he needed Corcin sat down next to Grace and gave her a small little smile as he settled in. He didn't feel like he needed to be near to her because of what they had been up to last night be he definitely didn't mind hanging around the doctor.

Then when he felt no one was looking he leaned in sneakily and whispered into her ear. "Sorry I didn't wake you up for coffee. You looked quite content where I left you." He said before leaning back over and resting his back against the wall of another locker.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - The Locker

"Sorry I didn't wake you up for coffee. You looked quite content where I left you."

She replied with a shrugging lift of her shoulders and cocked her head to the side with a grin that continued as he moved away.

Subtlety.

Corcin displayed a minor degree of subtlety and she liked him for it. His concern for her feelings the morning after wasn’t strictly required nor was his explanation, but it was cute. She wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed by what they did. She sure wasn’t sorry, hell no. She just didn’t want her nighttime activities paraded in front of the rest of the crew.

I wonder if he’ll be available for addition experimentation when he returns. There are still aspects of his condition in need of evaluation.

Dr. Weston continued to grin until the briefing began.

 

[kittenofdeath]

Put simply, the game ended, not in its intended fashion, but on a rather quiet note, most went to bed, Adam didn’t mind that much considering he still regarded the whole thing as stupid, so he just wandered from the table to the nearby couch and joined in watching the movie with the people who hadn’t been playing. That went much smoother, with Adam making the lights flicker at just the right moments to milk all the scare value out of the movie, and Event Horizon had a lot of scare value to be milked, so by the time the movie was over there were quite a few faces wearing false masks of confidence to hide the fear.

Adam smirked to himself as he said his goodnights, then walked back to his room, one hand on the wall the whole way so he didn’t tip over and fall, alcohol is a bitch when you have less blood for it to pollute. Despite his intoxication, Adam went about things with as much structure as was expected of him, his clothes were removed and placed in the laundry basket, his room was given a once over for any tampering and his clothes for the next day were laid out next to the trunk that held his suit before he allowed himself to slip in to bed and let sleep take him.

************************************
The Next Morning
************************************

The alarm didn’t wake Adam, He had woken early to have a proper bath while he waited for his pills to take effect, so he was able to catch the tiny alarm signature creep in to his rooms speaker configuration and stop the process before it started. Well, not stop it, that was against regulations, it played out in full, but he didn’t have any trouble in effectively muting the volume of it, which wasn’t covered by regulations.

He sighed to himself as he dried off, really, they should just let him control his own announcement settings, it was a bother having to consciously stop things like that, writing some kind of filter plug in would simplify things immensely.

No point dwelling on the unchangeable aspects of his life though, so Adam ignored the point and just saw to getting ready, his hair was perfectly arranged and styled, his teeth were brushed, twice, he rechecked that everything in his room was where it should be, made his bed, and only then did he feel like he was ready to put on clothes and face the day. First was some undergear, a special one piece that covered from his shoulders to his thighs while leaving his arms bare, the whole thing having a number of carefully arranged holes so that his skin could have unobstructed contact with the suit. After that came the suit itself, being a specialist civilian model, it wasn’t quite so plug and play as a military issue one, ideally, you have help when you put it on, as countless points need to be perfectly aligned with sub-dermal contact points, but Adam had been using it or suits like it for long enough to be able to pull it off alone.

Once that tedious process was done and the suit had vented all excess air from itself so it was perfectly fitted to his skin, on went the helmet, which also purged air from itself as the filters started up. It left Adam completely obscured by the suit... He relaxed, most people wouldn’t notice, but all his muscles loosened up a little and he even let himself smile for a few seconds before he continued. It was a good feeling being in the suit, most people that used the model had massive complaint lists, claiming it was too invasive, the way the thing adhered to the skin was apparently 'unnerving', but Adam loved it, he was safe, he was secure, he could walk in to a reactor half way though a meltdown and barely break a sweat, the feel of it clinging to him was reassuring.

On its own it was dangerous though, black and more black were not colours you wanted when trying to stick out in space, so he threw a slightly oversized set short sleeved jumpsuit like the one he had worn the day before, he put his tool belt on as well, but it would have to be swapped out before he want in out of a controlled gravity, loose tools were a safety hazard, and against regulations.

That done he headed for engineering, the equipment he needed was in the locker, all the things that the higher ups thought was necessary for the task at hand were always moved there, but the things that he wanted were in engineering, not to be vain, but he felt he knew better than them. There wasn’t anyone on requisitions duty, probably all off eating, he hadn’t eaten yet, he should probably do that... but that was a future concern, Adam was certified as a requisitions officer, so he just signed all the things out himself, kinda made the process easier all things considered, he also checked what gear had been moved to the locker, he approved of the selection, but felt it was lacking, consumables for one thing, no spare cutting torch cells had been taken up for example, that was a mistake.

Adam swapped out his tool belt for a number pouches and holders that looked more like combat webbing than anything else, then loaded it up with extra power cells and fuel canisters and the like to complement the tools he had moved from his tool belt. In addition to general tools he also grabbed a structural repair riveting gun, a beastly monster that used a scaled back mag rail system to drive the rivets home in zero g, not the kind of thing you want to have an accident with.

Equipment sorted, he went to the locker, with a quick stop at the mess hall to grab a few energy bars and drinks to hide away on his person, snacks never went down badly when going on long postings, as long as a breathable atmosphere was present of course, kinda hard to eat through a helmets faceplate. Adam didn’t bother mingling with anyone in particular once he was there, instead just making for the nearest empty seat and parking himself, he had done enough socializing last night.

 

[Sylnaeve]

Nadia flexed her MITT idly while waiting; her cool eyes taking in the others as they made their preparations. Ever since suiting up, a slight change had come over the curvaceous brunette. Her lips, usually curved up in the beginnings of a smile, were flat and set and her bearing had become more rigid. Her left hand reached up to secure each of her data-like hairpins and make sure her glossy brown locks were properly contained and that the hairpins were free to access the systems of her gear and transmitting clearly.

The mission would be starting soon. Within the hour, she'd be in what would amount to a very high tech, very expensive tomb in the most hostile environment a person could go into. The tomb the research ship had become would have its dangers and traps and they would be merciless. There would also be whatever remained of the crew to find; depending on the environmental conditions they could even be almost perfectly preserved.

In short, though wonders and great discoveries could come from this, it would be a frozen, lethal hell possibly full of toxic and violent chemicals at first.

Such a place was one for professionals. Not for jokes or teasing, or friendly banter, but for precise focus and resolve. Making the shift between the two mind sets took a bit of time, which for Nadia had always been one of the most helpful things about briefings.

As she spoke, those who had heard her before might note a slight change in her speech; more precise and clipped, with a cooler tone. "Preparation is key, Doctor Nova, but I'm sure you've made your own preparations as well." The Security presence might be something he was unused to. Nadia could not recall if he had done any space recovery missions before. "The security team is more here to protect the ships and us from scavengers or pirates; thus the heavy ordinance." Which shouldn't be needed. Galileo was too far out to really have been disturbed and if there were any such groups interested in it, they were either already here and long gone or had not arrived yet. "These sorts of armaments are standard, so don't worry."

She had faith in their security contingent. In fact, Nadia placed her faith in the whole crew for now. In her mind, you should never do this kind of thing without being able to do so as your life was very often not in your own hands.

 

[Carreira]

- I'm not worried at all, and I'm prepared for everything - Rukka said. After saying this he closed his mouth and while chewing his minty gum he pointed with his thumb to the sportive backpack.

Actually, Rukka was really nervous, his menthol gums ease the sickness he gets when he is overexcited and although his athletic and relaxed posture didn't show it - he was almost panicking.

Rukka was a man of science, and his fame and brilliance always got him on the backstage. This time he felt exposed, he was starting to think about it and doubting of himself. Am I expendable now? - He though while chewing and looking at Nadia with a blank gaze.

That woman, up till now she was one of the only persons that talked back at him and he felt a bond between them. He felt like friendship could grow between them, one that might come back home with them... he wasn't expecting that.

Rukka looked at the security guards and his head around to ease the stiffness of his neck - I hope you guys are the best - he thought.

 

[HotCider]

Dr. Calvin & Rita

The Locker doors opened as a man dressed in a brown business strode in. Behind him walked Rita, wearing her usual good-spirited smile. She was pleased to see that the crew had taken her orders seriously and had gathered to hear the very important briefing that was going to be delivered by a special guest. Garbed in a black jacket and skirt, she stepped to the side of The Locker doors and crossed her hands before her lap as Dr. Calvin walked the aisle between the two benches. His chin was raised in a pompous manner as though he was higher than thou, and based on his understanding, he was.

The president had one hand situated in his trouser pocket, while his other lolled at his side. His crisp-blue eyes first swept the faces to his right and then to his left—the group looked a little promising. The doctor stopped; the heels of his brown dress shoes came together as his indifferent eyes gazed ahead at the doors that would take them to the Trojan ship.

“First, I want to say for those who hadn’t the slightest clue who I am, I am Dr. Calvin Denver, president of the Oracle Corporation, the very corporation who hired you here, and who have gifted some of you with prosthetics. You were given the best for I only fund the best, and I have created the best team for this job.”

Dr. Calvin turned to face those who may have been staring at his back. The lamp light passed over the golden layers of his hair that had been combed back and moisturized with oils. The president seemed awfully large, larger than some of the male security officers sitting in the room, and it had only been his suit obscuring it. But with close inspection, there was some bulk hidden beneath the sharp seams of his attire.

“Having said that, I have high expectations for all of you. I hired professionals not children, and each of you has proven superior in your field. I thank you for coming this far. It may be hard to believe but some of our applicants resigned when they read that they would be subjected to cryosleep for two years. Seeing how all of you are alive and healthy, I expect no complaints.”

Drawing his hand from his trouser pocket, he held it out as a neon-blue map of the Galileo expanded above it out of thin air.

“This is the Galileo, one of my research ships. I had it on a mission in the Gaddis system to mine for a new kind of iridium that could be found in the asteroids drifting about its space. After a month since the crew had awoken from cryosleep, they started having issues with the communication system. Now, I designed that system, and it is flawless. One of the engineers or Bridge personnel would have had to have been careless. Nonetheless, we lost communication with them, and with that, I lost a lot of money.”

Dr. Calvin’s brows furrowed a little. “I don’t like wasting my money, so please, while you work for me, don’t ever make me feel like you’re a wasted investment.”

He wasn’t going to elaborate. There were much more important things to talk about.

“This incident happened ten years ago—technically, twelve since all of you have been in stasis for two. You may be wondering why I care about it now. Well, it has taken quite the amount of time to gather the money, the time, and the right crew to come out here and do this job. With so many projects coming up and functions I need to attend, forgive my language, but I barely find time to take a piss.”

Tapping the hologram, the ship split in two to reveal a blank, empty center.

“This is the Galileo’s interior. If the Oracle Communication System was back online, I could pull up an up-to-date diagram of the interior. We would also have access to video, and could peer inside the ship. Because the OCS is not online, we cannot do that. All I can offer you are the original blue prints for the ship’s design, which are here.”

He tapped on a blue square as it expanded over the model to reveal the Galileo dissected into numerous sectors all not entirely detailed.

“I have organized some of you into teams. There will be a group that will remain on the Odysseus. That group’s job is to monitor the safety of those exploring the Galileo. Safety, as always, is priority. If any of you get into an accident, then abort the mission and return to the ship. Do not split up, and do not leave anyone behind if you can help it. If any of you are to become lost, there is a communication device in your suits. Until the Galileo OCS is back online, we will not be able to locate you immediately, but maintaining communication with your peers will lead to a swift recovery.”

“Here is how you all will be organized. The two teams are Procyon and Capella. I have labeled the sectors on the archive map of the Galileo 1-18 (Note: Sector 17 and 18 are not seen on the map I have posted on the Galileo page). Capella will be entering Sector 17 and Procyon Sector 18. Members of the Trojan are required to guard the ship at all times against any threat or anomaly. If any crew member is to come down with a sudden disease while on the Galileo, then they are to be quarantined until the disease or sickness is identified. If the ill individual refuses quarantine, then they are to be terminated, and a biopsy is to be done on their body to determine cause.”

There hadn't been a hint of care in the president’s voice. Business was business.

“Your primary mission is to gather as much evidence as possible to try and figure out what happened to the Galileo crew twelve years ago. Who knows? After all it has been twelve years, there may be absolutely nothing there but old husks; but if you so happen to find any survivors, I want them brought in so that they can report to me personally. Rita, be sure that order is carried out.”

Rita’s eyes danced as her smile became more pronounced, “Yes, Doctor.”

Dr. Calvin started walking for The Locker doors when he suddenly stopped, remembering that he had a second request.

“Oh yes; if you happen to find any iridium, salvage as much of it as you can. I will get my money’s worth. I have nothing more to say. Good luck; God Speed; and Good Day.”

The life-like projection of Dr. Calvin winked out of existence before their eyes, leaving behind the maps, models, and team charts.

Rita stepped away from the door, spreading her arms before cheerfully clapping her hands together.

“What a wonderful briefing from Dr. Calvin! You all must feel exhilarated after seeing the president wish you good fortune on your exploration. Now, if you don’t have any questions, those teams that are to be on The Trojan and the Galileo please gather your things and make your way through those doors. The rest of you who are to remain on the Odysseus, well, you know what your duties are. This is only the first excursion, so play it safe and be sure to return as soon as you can,” Rita suggested.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - The Locker

Grace smiled at the technological marvel that was the holographic Dr. Carver and she almost shared Rita’s enthusiasm at his appearance, although for different reasons. She listened intently to his speech, not because she expected it to concern her but because it really was an impressive display.

To her surprise, Grace learned that she was to go aboard the Trojan.

Despite the shock, Doctor Weston continued to smile. Her mind raced wildly behind her cheerful expression, only the occasional gestures of her hands indicated she was having an internal conversation with herself and possibly not liking what she was hearing.

My things? I don’t have any things!

This is all the fault of some chickenshit moron who was afraid to face a little sleep.

All she could imagine was that the doctor she replaced was trained to leave the Odysseus and expected take up the temporary duties on the Trojan and when he dropped out they just plugged her name into all of his slots. Never mind that she had no idea what was going on or what her things were supposed to be.

Dammit girl, you’re a doctor. Get doctor things.

Calm. Breathe. Relax.

It took a moment but Grace found her quiet center and turned from a young woman on the verge of a panic attack to an experienced doctor preparing to face the unknown. Medicine first – unfamiliar with the medical systems aboard the Trojan, Grace decided to grab additional kits from the Odysseus – a trauma kit and a full surgical, these along with her personal kit should see her through most medical emergencies. She unconsciously rubbed her personal direct computer interface. What had seemed like a foolish precaution before she entered cyro-sleep had become a comforting presence.

Crap, I don’t have to wear one of those suits, do I?

Stop. Doctor things first, space cowboy things second.

Without another thought, Grace rushed back to the infirmary to collect her equipment. Then, with the familiar tools of her profession in hand and feeling much more confident about the situation, she returned to The Locker to learn if there were any other things she needed.

Like a space suit... damn thing better not make my butt look big.

She scanned The Locker, hoping to catch sight of Corcin or Victor. She admitted to herself that she was really looking for Corcin, it would be slightly less embarrassing to ask him. But only slightly.

 

[HotCider]

Victor Caldwell

If there was one thing Victor understood in the briefing besides hearing Rita’s previous briefing being said all over again but with extra information, it was that the president didn’t give a damn about any of the people sitting in the room. They were workers, he expected them to do their job, and if one of the ants caught a disease that could infect the entire crew, he or she was to be stamped. It sounded so simple—not. He was a Marine but never has he received orders to shoot fellow Marines for catching the common cold.

Shit, Victor thought. Everyone better be smart and to just go along with the quarantine if they felt they even had so much as allergies or a pimple.

After the president left, Victor glanced to Rita as she barfed up rainbows about the wonderful Dr. Calvin. The guy did seem strange. He was as pampered as a baby’s ass, and Victor supposed that that was the way a person looked when he was filthy rich.

Lowering his arms, Victor leaned forward on the bench as a new window popped up that displayed the teams the president had spoken about. His brows shot upward and he stood abruptly.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t on any of the teams to go into the Galileo? “This is bullshit! Why wasn’t I on one of the teams? I’m better than that bitch and that pussy combined!”

Rita crossed her arms as she regarded the Marine. “I’m sure you’ve heard me say this before Mr. Caldwell. I will not tolerate such vulgar language on this ship. This is only the first excursion and Dr. Calvin designed these teams himself. You will not question his choice.”

Mother fucker needs to get his eyes checked! Victor thought.

Victor glared at Rita briefly and said nothing more. He had nothing nice to say, and he would take sitting on The Trojan versus sitting in the brig. Wrinkling his nose, the Marine turned to get suited up. He faced one of the lockers and typed in the security code, assuming it was the same as his bedroom. The doors hissed as they released pressure and split open, revealing a cylindrical interior. Sliding the sandals from his feet, he stepped inside as the doors closed behind him. He was standing in darkness for the first few seconds, and he took his time to undress, tossing his black, long-sleeved shirt to the ground before sliding off his shorts and briefs. Waiting patiently, the interior illuminated in an orange light and Victor closed his eyes as green laser lights began taking his physical information.

The locker hummed as a green light passed up and down the door seam before a white one followed. Once the white ball of light traveled from the floor to the top of the locker, the doors popped open and the Marine stepped out clad in his new exoskeleton. The armor’s skin clung to his muscles like a sturdy glove, and with the defense plates overlapping them, it was making him appear more muscular than he really was.

The visor of his helm glowed faintly in a ghostly blue as charts appeared before his eyes, monitoring his vitals and chemical levels. When he turned his attention to the other crew members, a crosshair appeared, jumping on each organic entity in the room and highlighting them in a friendly green. It even identified who they were.

“Aw yeah,” Victor said. His voice sounded as though it were passing through a radio. The battlesuit was improving his mood. “I make this look good.”

He curled and uncurled his fingers, and then folded and unfolded his arms. He tested the suits weight by hopping and down, and if it wasn’t for the helm, the others would see a big, boyish grin on his face. He was in the toy store!

Victor stopped hopping and walked back over to the locker to access a second one next to it. It was a rectangular case that held something Victor thought he’d like. It was large and it looked like it went boom. Typing in the same code, the second locker emitted a similar hiss as the first had and parted like a DVD case. There were handguns on his left and right with explosives, but it was the big daddy in the middle that made the Marine’s eyes twinkle.

“Aaaaah!” Victor cried as though he won the lottery. He grasped the big-ass rifle, what was it called? Wilson G90 Assault Rifle. It was so heavy, but it looked like it did more than shoot. Resting his head against it, the Marine just took a few moments to stroke it like a lover before he whirled around to face the rest of the crew. He held the rifle against his crotch like a giant penis before he started making pelvis thrusting gestures.

“YEAH! SUCK ON THAT!”

“Mr. Caldwell!” Rita scolded. “Dr. Calvin said he hired professionals not children so please act like one!”

Victor quickly dropped his act and replied, “Sorry, sorry! I was just excited. ‘Won’t happen again.”

The Marine faced the locker and looked for some ammunition to feed to his new baby.

 

[Nordican]

Corcin wasn't surprised that he'd be taking up the helm for the Trojan given he was the junior of the two. What did surprise him was both that the bulky frame of Victor had been chosen to stay on the shuttle for the potential unpleasant task of securing those in quarantine and....

Corcin shook his head as he saw Grace hurry off to get her things. He didn't want to think about what the mine might have to do.

Let's all just get back safe and sound. No Quarantine. Corcin said as he thought of having to use his pistol on a fellow human being. His stomach turned a bit at even the thought, he was a pilot not a soldier.

His demanor was not helped when Victor came back clad in his armor and then went over to an impressing looking rifle. Corcin's green eyes watched as the marine was very attentive to his rifle.

Great. Corcin thought before he looked up to see Grace return. She looked still a little bit flustered over the deployment and he moved up from his bench.

"Need a hand doc?" He asked simply enough and wondered what rules there were against having sex in a cockpit while a trigger happy marine watched for people in need of quarantine. He made a little smirk and then just looked over to the doctor wondering what was up.

 

[Carreira]

Rukka Nova continued chewing his gum, turning his head around to stare at Kathrine. "I wonder what will be like being with that swearer" he thought while staring.

He continued to stare as he thought about all the possibilities and different outcomes of the trip. He felt nervous, but deep down he was confident - he would prefer to be guarded by the behemoth marine tough. He shook his blue hair as he turned around to reach for his locker, spitting his gum to the garbage can.

He pressed the numpad in the correct pattern and the door hissed open, he stopped and took a deep breath, dropping his backpack outside.

Nova then proceeded to enter the cylinder and the door closed leaving him in darkness. He started stripping and placing his clothes down a shaft that sucked the cloth pieces to be cleaned and some green lasers began scanning his athletic and thin body - he came out... his exoskeleton was not so big as the one "Sarge" had, although you could see it was from the same manufacturer, it was light and agile - much like its bearer.

His HUD highlighted the friendlies green but there were some purple spots on different objects he could identify as the gum he was chewing, some drops of biological fluids - sweat maybe? Hope so...! - and other things... The purple was for detecting biological sampling material.

He clicked a button on his thigh and a compartment opened... his notebook was inside - Good to know the Oracle corporation was true to their word and made the suit as he wished.... that means - and he clicked the button on the other thigh revealing a small plasma pistol.

- Hey! Mine isn't as big as yours, but what matters is the effectiveness right? - he said laughing and brandishing his small gun

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - The Locker

"Need a hand doc?" Grace heard Corcin ask and with a relived smile turned to face him.

“It certainly looks that way.” With a quick look at the medical gear she had accumulated for the Trojan, she made a vague gesture. “I never expected to leave the Odysseus, and I don’t know the extent of the medical facilities on the Trojan as well as those on this ship.”

And that is very well indeed, thank you very much Mr. Nacern.

“I have gathered enough gear for any reasonable medical emergency, several in fact. I am ready but, now this is really going to make me sound like a silly blonde, I don’t know what to wear. Tell me I don’t have to wear a special suit and I am good to go.”

Her voice deepened slightly as she said, “I am actually looking forward to this. It will mean a chance to try something different. And I like that.”

 

[Nordican]

Corcin eyes gave the doc an appraising look and knew it would be a disservice to put more things in between a viewer and her body but safety needed to be observed.

"I think the suit will be a necessary evil here Doc. I don't expect anything will happen to us but if there is a faulty piece of plating or any number of things and we'll need helmets and an air supply fast." Corcin said in all seriousness.

So into the locker with you." He said with a grin as his own already suited up form pointed out the locker with her name on it.

When she said she was excited to venture out into this new experience he gave her a small smile and a nod. He had to admit to himself it was pretty exciting to be part of the team who'd be reclaiming the derelict vessel and it was hard not to let her high spirits infect his own.

 

[Sylnaeve]

Nadia had not spoken during the briefing, though she had tapped some notes into her hairpins about both the briefing and Dr. Denver's giving it. That was unusual. She had worked for Oracle her entire career after school and been on more than a few missions of this kind; admittedly none so high profile or so far into space. But in either event, this was the first time that she'd seen Dr. Denver take a direct hand or interest in them. She'd only ever met him once in passing before the first time she'd left Earth. And now here he was, projecting himself holographically across billions of miles to give them a briefing that the Ship Director or the Captain could have done just as well and far less expensively.

Why? Why was this so important to him? She had a feeling the company wasn't telling them everything.

That was hardly new, however. She would perform as she always had; professional, precise, near perfect every time.

As the briefing ended, Nadia ran one more check on the systems of her hairpins, her suit, and the MITT. She also took the time to indulge in a bit of worry; she and Colton were both in the Capella group. He seemed to have no real impression or lingering anything about what had happened last night but pressure could change that. Would he be able to stay professional?

Any such worries were driven out of her mind, however, by Victor Caldwell's outbursts. The first was bad enough; the man whining about his assignment and insulting his peers at the same time! Dr. Denver had chosen this man? He was acting like a child! Her lips formed a thin, straight line as she reviewed the results of the systems check.

If he was like this in the field, he was going to get them all killed. Thank God he was just on the Trojan.

She rose as the system check completed; all systems green. Nadia simply sighed as Victor humped his new firearm at the rest of them. He really was going to get them all killed. And he clearly had no respect for either his crew mates or firearms. You never pointed a weapon, loaded or unloaded, at your team; she knew that much from her minimal weapons training.

Nadia put her helmet on, despite being inside the ship still, sealing it and activating the suit. This way when Caldwell humped a shell of that gun through the bulkhead, at least she'd be able to breathe before being sucked out into space. She approached the Captain and Rita, "I'll be boarding now, sir," she inclined her head to the Captain.

As she passed Rukka on her way to the door that led to the Trojan, she smiled at him through the helmet's viewport and patted him on the shoulder with her left hand, "It'll be getting more use either way, Doctor Nova, of that I'm sure."

Without further comment, she exited into the Trojan access and cycled through the airlocks connecting the ship and the smaller vessel, finding her way to seat and strapping in.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Dr. Weston - The Locker

"Oh yes, I'm sure everything will be fine."

And there it was – the locker with her name on it. Tucked in at the end, it was the last in the row. “Grace Weston” in bold block letters without rank or title, even the dark colored lettering was slightly different shade than the other lockers. It was as if her addition had been an afterthought.

It was good that Corcin reminded her of the possible dangers they may face once they left the relative comfort and security of the Odysseus. Her focus having shifted to her own duties and the difficulties they might entail, she had lost sight of the realities of the deep space. Life in an inhospitable environment with survival completely dependent on technology was inherently perilous. Hanging over their heads, there was always the possibility of mechanical malfunction, catastrophic system failure, bodily injury, maiming, dismemberment, or death.

It was with her mind mulling over these dismal possibilities that Grace opened her locker and evaluated the newly valued space suit. There was a rarely seen serious expression on her face as she slipped out of her lab coat and over-shirt, and hung them in the locker then she removed the suit. With an awkward but brief struggle she donned the space wear, and hoped that after it all she looked no more uncomfortable in the snugly fitted gear than anyone else.

After a few subtle stretches, she was happy to see the suit would not impede her motions and would allow for the quick actions frequently required of her. The boots, however, did not meet with her satisfaction, and she feared the heavy footwear would slow her down if she needed to move quickly. But her bumblebee striped socks slipped easily into the boots with just enough room for her toes to wiggle, so she decided against complaining.

She gathered up her gear with a deep breath and slung the straps over her shoulders. There was nothing left to do but head to the Trojan.

Weighted down with all her gear, she moved towards the door. Despite her concerns, she still managed to smile at Corcin, “So, what’s the best seat for a smooth ride?”