Through little windows, rays of morning sun made themselves apparent on the control deck walls. Oscar Parks shuffled under the straps of his chair and sighed uncomfortably, muttering something to himself about cheap seat-belts. His eyes rarely left the control panel as his fingers moved quickly from switch to switch, following instructions given to them via an earpiece. From time to time, he'd mumble, 'Sure?', 'Okay', 'Check', 'Stable', and other words of conformation to Mission Control.

The Preparation Team, who oddly donned their Caelus Tech caps at 5 AM, shuffled throughout the ship's mission-vital rooms and carried out final pre-launch checks with a swift ambiance. Behind him (or, below him, as he was vertical in his chair) Oscar could hear the mumbling of the Prep. Team at work.

'Vitae Ship, T minus 55 minutes to Launch. Prep. Team depart.' The ship-wide intercom buzzed with the sound that comes at the end of a transmission. After a round of 'Good luck you two!'s and 'Fly safe!'s, the ship became host to only two people: Oscar Parks and Phoebe Clarenth. Parks resumed shuffling against his seat, which was directly in front of Phoebe.

The early sun continued to creep along the walls of the control deck - tiny slits of light cascaded through dust and settled on first aid kits, oxygen tanks, a closed Cockpit door, and (to his annoyance), Oscar's eyes. He flicked down his helmet's sun visor and continued to browse the controls.

The cockpit hummed with electrical circuits and pressure equalizers - the ambient buzzes and beeps helped to put Oscar's mind at ease, as it was a sound he had become familiar with. In a breach of concentration he averted his eyes from the control panel and looked at Phoebe behind him. A smile surfaced underneath his sun visor and he said, 'Feeling okay?'

"We're strapped to the top of a giant missile, how do you think I'm doing?" Phoebe says, mostly sarcastically, but sharing Oscar's smile. She was working on her own Pre-Flight checklist, watching her feeds on the engines and other, similar items. "About the mission... I'm confidant in myself, and you. And the ship. But, going all the way to Jupiter... Well, its the farthest a human has ever been from home." Phoebe says, pondering while she does her checks. "I just hope we make it in one piece..." She mutters quietly, though this statement sounds more like a strange endearment for the vessel that they are making their way towards.