[IC] Carvings of the Galaxy

[beyond visions]

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Benji Baker

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The Artemis: Kitchen

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There plated a cake, a marble cake to be specific. It is a dessert flavored with compromise, all while also generated for premeditated celebration. How long has Benji replayed the ideal? As earlier as his desperate imagination could record it. The initiated thought lingered in pressure for him to be quite responsible with those rations of his. Benji has never been one with a large appetite, so preserving the ingredients processed by the food synthesizer was no toiling task for him. Neglected meals have not been rare through the past two years. Forced eating happened, it was only to keep himself alive. Life must sustain, that's what it is all about.

Benji started setting the table by lying down the forks, but his hand- it could not stop shaking. He held his hand closer to his face just to examine exactly how intensely it quivered. His heart beat alone escalated to irregular speeds. Anxiety took a stab. "Calm down, take a deep breath...," he tried talking himself out of hyperventilating right before obeying his own command of exhaling and inhaling steadily. Benji could not decipher whether he was excited or terrified. Joy to never be alone again, was of course thrilling, though all the trouble of isolating himself in the first place was for sake of the project- he didn't want to get in the way. Yet, he couldn't allow the other five to refrigerate and wait all for what? A lie.

Once everything was positioned correctly on the surface of the table, Benji gave a smile, reminded himself to take it easy, and turned towards The Artemis's control panel located in the cockpit. Funny, underground bases don't have cockpits, but ships do.

---

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The Artemis: Cryo-tanks

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The door lifted above from the cylinder-- the cold; the first feeling was being smothered in chills. Also all bare except for the covering of their underwear. Their first steps must of been like that of an infant. All this while simultaneously experiencing a moment quite like exiting their mother's womb for the second time. It was like some kind of rebirth, a renascence.

What brought the circumstance to be stranger, breeding suspicion, was to spot and to count only five member. Would they predict that their doctor never arrived in the first place, or that he perhaps was behind the awakening? Would they even be concerned enough to even care about the whereabouts of Benji Baker, because one in particularly breath with missing limb. Just as Cryonautics stripped each one down to their underwear, so too they rip away Yaz's bionic arm to prevent any inferences between the two machines. And since it was detachable, the company found no harm or toil to her in removing it.

Adding to the surprises and practicalities, successful business man Ailbeart Rend stood in their presence. It seems as though as Owen's old school friend Andrew did not make the cut. Well, you may have a better resume, more say, and even more right when rich, famous, powerful. Oh and having dirt on the company definitely makes you an automatic member of the project. Blackmail equals admissions, especially if you hold knowledge to how exactly a company like Cryonautics is able to afford such expenses like a theoretical underground base or a factual space ship.

---

Back to the kitchen

---

"Surprise!" he hollered, bouncing up from a squatting position and giving whoever first entered the kitchen quite the startle. "It's me, B-Benji!" The rest soon found there way to his location due to the attraction his voice brought with its loud volume. "Hey, I brought blankets," he announced with the coverings cupped and nestled against his arms and hands. He lied all but one of them down on a chair for the others to grab. "Here, you must be freezing, Owen buddy-- I mean Dr. Childs. I know how that feels, like a snowman in a snow globe... ha, ha," Benji then placed the blanket around the psychiatrist's shoulders, tucking it tightly around him for the warmth.

"Y-You see, there is a lot that I have to explain. Ah, where do I start---," he paused, and it was no short pause, Benji had completely blanked out on his words. Amidst the preparation and stress for this one moment, he lost his train of thought. The nerves could easily be blamed for it-- the same shaking hands and beating heart, sweaty palms, nervous gulp-- it was all happening, while still trying to remain some ounce of composure. "Sorry, it just slipped from my mind, weird. No, I have to remember, it's why your here right now. It's why I shut off the tanks... Ah, It will come back to me eventually, give me a few minutes." Benji grabbed a knife and proceeded to cut into the marble cake. "Who wants the first slice? It's marble since I couldn't decide to punch chocolate or vanilla on the food synthesizer. So I went with the in between." Then a thought came to him, "Oh, I just noticed-- you guys aren't wearing any clothes, well barely. Hey, everything you had on you before taking that funny pill should be in your rooms, mine was. Follow me!"

[Atrophy]

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Owen Childs

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The whoosh of the cryo-tank’s door and the sudden freezing chill cutting through Owen’s body forced his eyes open like the snapping of fingers to a hypnotized subject. A yawn involuntarily escaped from Owen’s mouth, and he could hear several pops and cracks as he shifted his weight around. Unsteadily, his shaking hands grabbed at the edge of the cylinder and peeled his body away from the tank. He haphazardly took a step forward and, not noticing the warning sign, felt his stomach drop as his foot plummeted beyond where the floor was supposed to be. Owen managed to catch his balance just in time, and his first step into the brave new world was therefore, while poorly executed and embarrassingly awkward, a technical success.

Owen rubbed his smooth head, still quite uncertain of what was going on or where he was. He felt like he had been dreaming; as he looked around and found himself surrounded by four others while wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs he decided that perhaps he was, in fact, still dreaming. Only in this dream he wasn’t late for an exam and the rest of the people in it weren’t the faceless horde of student but a few equally bewildered individuals dressed in nothing more than their skivvies. Three of the others in the room were young, attractive, and somewhat familiar women; the fourth was an older man with pruned skin and a gnarly beard.

Yeah. You’re wide awake, buddy.

Memories of taking the pill, the tests, Project Renascence, Cryonautics, the call from his buddy, and hundreds of other little details flooded into his mind. Relieved that he hadn’t learned something horrifying about his own desires, Owen looked back around the room. First, the women: Echo, Yaz, Ms. Sourpuss. He knew them, and they all seemed fine except for Yaz who was missing her arm. Or rather, she had always been missing her arm for as long as Owen had known her (which wasn’t very long, to be fair); now she was just missing her bionic arm as well. Owen glared at the other man, studying his face. It was recognizable but, much like hearing the melody to a song in his head without the actual lyrics, he couldn’t put a name to it. There was the absurd possibility that the old man was Andrew or Benji and that something had gone wrong with their pod and they had been let out years, decades earlier. Owen quickly threw that idea out; he had seen the man emerge from one of the tanks. Perhaps he had been frozen later, except that also made no sense considering the entire nature of the project.

All of this was thrusted to the side when Owen caught the gaze of one of the others and, as if he had just snacked from the tree of knowledge, realized he had been glaring at a bunch of half-naked people like some kind of peeping tom. Suddenly uncomfortable and only partially because he was freezing, he shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. He could muse all day about cryo-tanks, old men, and finding out what the heck ever happened to the other two males let alone the rest of humanity once he had some clothes on. Basic needs once again trumped everything else; Maslow would be proud.

“You’d think they would’ve setup curtains. Bit of a design oversight,” he said with a faint smile as he rubbed his chin, mindful of where he rested his eyes. Six cryo-tanks, five people, nothing much else. Finally, they settled on a doorway. He nodded towards it. “I’m gonna see if I can find some clothes.”

The walk down the short, metallic corridor was more of a task than Owen had imagined it to be. Each step arduous, shuffling, and painful like walking barefoot through foot-deep snow. There were a few doors lining the bright, sterile hallway, but only one was open. Through the doorway Owen could make out a table with what looked like a birthday cake on it, with a sink and countertops hugging the wall beyond it—the kitchen, he guessed. He took a step into the room and—

"Surprise! It’s me, B-Benji!"

“Criminy, Doc. Don’t do that!” shouted Owen with surprise.

He lowered his raised hands, glad for once that his reflexes were never the quickest. He could feel a few of the others walk into the room after him. Owen shifted uncomfortable as Benji wrapped a blanket around him, although he was admittedly grateful for the added warmth. While he was relieved to see Benji was okay, a wave of unease set upon him: What happened to Andrew? It wouldn’t be much longer before Owen pieced at least part of it together, but for now he was still focused on what was directly before him. And as he watched the Doc flitter about while chatting rapidly about God knows what his earlier prognosis of the man being “okay” began to shift. Yet, clothes were the priority; he followed Benji.

It was getting easier to walk by this point and it wasn’t before long that they were in dormitory with six rooms. Owen’s room was the middle one on the right. It was tiny with little more than a bed, a desk, a nightstand, and a closet; it reminded him a lot of a college dorm room. A suit, black and crisp, was hanging in the tiny closet, with a pair of argyle socks and his leather shoes sitting next to the bed. He wasted no time getting dressed before hurrying back to the kitchen. He was certain the others would convene once they got themselves together, judging by his own grumbling stomach. He looked at the cake and frowned. Hopefully Benji knew how to get them real food. When Benji and some of the others made their way back, Owen stepped to one end of the table and leaned against it. Adjusting his glasses, he settled his gaze on Benji. Something that man said had been bothering him.

“Doc, you said you turned off the tanks? Does that mean somebody let you out, or…” Owen trailed off, folded his arms, and decided to change his question. “More importantly, have you seen Andrew?”

[TheMadAsshatter]

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Tahlia Spade

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In a dizzying instant, Tahlia found herself rudely awakened by a rush of freezing cold air as the cryo-tube door came open before her. Her eyes practically snapped open at the sudden shock, and for a brief moment her mind was racing. It took her a moment, but she calmed down when her mind registered her surroundings. She was still struggling to remember what happened, but her body determined that it was more important to exit the cryo-tube Cold was not Tahlia's friend, and she damn near fell on her face trying to get out, only just managing to catch herself on all fours. It's a good thing her reflexes weren't disturbed by the jarring awakening.

She took a few deep breaths, reveling in the somewhat warmer air outside of the pod itself before taking a quick glance around and picking herself up. "Ughhh, fuck the cold," she snipped, wrapping her arms around her torso and brushing her hair away from her face. She quickly took stock of the room, and the others in it, and with it she began to recall where she was and why. The project, the participants, the fact that everyone else was likely dead by this point.

Tahlia shoved that last thought aside, knowing it wouldn't do any good for the time being. Instead, she focused on taking stock of her surroundings. The room, her clothes, or lack thereof, the others and their state of equal undress. Just like how she remembered it, with the exception that Benji was missing and there was one person she didn't recognize. Her mind ran through a brief list of scenarios before coming to the conclusion that somebody in charge of the project must have known what they were doing... Right? Regardless, Tahlia recognized Yaz, Echo, and Owen right off the bat. Everyone else was here. So where was Benji?

No sooner had that thought entered her mind than Owen piped in with a quip about interior decorating. Unlike many of his jokes, she actually got a small chuckle out of that one. That could have been the cold shock talking, though. What he said next shook her thoughts into order and gave her a course of action. "I don't blame you," she said, following suit.

She followed a few steps behind Owen, realizing how much of a chore walking was after waking up from being fucking frozen. She quickly looked over her body for signs of freezer burn, thankfully finding none. She looked back up just in time to see Benji come out of nowhere at the end of the hallway. Fully clothed. And somewhat less stable than usual. It was obvious that he came out of his pod before any of the others, but Tahlia worried as to how much earlier. The next thing she noticed was the room they found themselves in. A kitchen by the looks of it. And a cake sitting on the table. Knowing Benji, he may very well have had it made as a sort of welcome. At the same time, it almost felt like a birthday. The birth of a new chapter, for themselves, and for humanity.

Benji approached Tahlia with a blanket. She knew what he was about to do and instead opted to take it herself and wrap it over her shoulders. It was a welcome comfort to be able to insulate herself somewhat. "Thanks, Benji," she said, letting him drone on about whatever. He definitely seemed more stable before, though at least he also seemed no less generous or kindhearted now. That was good.

At the mention of clothes, Tahlia followed Benji and Owen to the living quarters, or whatever Cryonautics called it. The shock of waking up finally began to wear off as she wandered down the corridor. Upon entering the living area, Tahlia found that her room was the first one on the left. She walked inside and began searching through her things for a warm set of clothes. She ended up putting on a pair of green cargo pants, leather boots, and a leather jacket, along with changing into a warmer set of underwear. She walked out of her room and found everyone reconvening in the kitchen. She followed the others, hoping that Benji could finally fill them in on what all has happened in the last however many years it's been.

[beyond visions]

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Benji Baker

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The Artemis: Living Quarters

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"Alright," Benji chirped with a clap as the group continued to follow him through the corridor of the Artemis. "So this is my room right here." He knocked the first door on the right, signalling his living space. The rest of the crew began scouting to them what was uncharted territory. "Not quite sure whose room is who-- oh but that one should be Yaz's," he pointed. "I know, since it was the first one I walked into. Found this sort of metal-crate-box-case-thing, opened it, because hey, I was curious. Turns out it was your robot arm. But don't worry, once I found my place I stop snooping. Also, I'm pretty sure everyone gets a Cryonautics shirt in their closet, makes great for sleeping in. Funny how even if the world is all doom and gloom, they still make time for free t-shirts. Because hey, who doesn't love free t-shirts? Anyways, you guys get dressed, I'll wait for you in the kitchen." Benji's own apparel consisted of navy blue dress pants, a pair of Sperry Top Siders, white button-up that he folded the sleeves up to his elbows, a gray sweater vest, and a digital wrist watch. Nice, he dressed like a private school student obeying the dress code.

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The Artemis: Kitchen

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The first to pop out of the halls and into the kitchen again was Owen, to which he queried, “Doc, you said you turned off the tanks? Does that mean somebody let you out, or…” When he paused, Benji opened his mouth ready to begin answering, but his friend soon changed the question before giving him a chance to speak. “More importantly, have you seen Andrew?” Benji leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper, "A-actually, I was going to ask you the same question... Err... I mean, I thought if he was getting replaced he would tell you. Well, that's what happened, right? Right?" As soon as the rest arrived, Benji looked up with his same gleeful smile. "Hey, guys! Um, um..." Benji started to pace back and forth nervously while scratching his head in both confusion and anxiety. Yes, it was all coming back to him, the excitement of company was taking a fade out. Not that Benji now suddenly grew tired of their presence, but he recollected exactly why they are standing in front now. And what seemed off about him the most, was that Benji still smiled with a grin while his eyes blinked with panic. But finally, he scurried to what appeared to be a blank wall of the kitchen. He then proceeded to smash his tiny fist against a square button. By that function, two platforms moved from off the wall revealing a wide observation window. It was like witnessing massive metal curtains depart and separate in order to crack sight of a black canvas, one splattered with specks of white. "T-the Artemis is not a base, it’s a ship. And we're not on earth, we're in space."

His back was leaned against the glass once turned away from it, slowly he retreated to a sitting position while staring at the floor. "It didn't take me long to figure it out, once my tank supposedly malfunctioned... Ha, ha, I've been out here on my own for... Heh, two years. The cockpit has multiple panels operating different controls of the ship. According to it, we have been on autopilot for one hundred and two years. Sorry, guys I don't know if it was right or wrong for me to wake you. I tried though, tried to keep to myself in here until-- Yaicarro." Benji did his best not to meddle with the controls in the cockpit, but he longed for answers. The Artemis was coursed for the mysterious planet of Yaicarro, assisted with no other description, it just read on the screen, Planet: Yaicarro Information: NONE.

"So, that's where we have been heading all these years. And I thought this Artemis base would be a giant coffin buried deep underground until we all rise up like zombies and strangely but surely say hello to the earth again. It's what we were told... ha, ha. I guess we could go back, seems like Cryonautics inserted the ship with a map giving us only two options- return back to our abandoned home or really... take our chances with the unknown..."

[SheriffLlama]

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Yazmin Cormick

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Yazmin's first sense was the feeling of touch. Cold, freezing metal that touched her skin, an equally freezing air circulating in the tank around her, sending hundreds of goose bumps across her pale skin. The young woman felt her breath draw in a chilling breath, quick and sharp. Her eyes slowly opened, and she saw the door of her cryotank slowly open. She swallowed, her desert-dry throat beginning to itch as she did so.

As the girl lurched forward in shock, she instinctively tried to catch herself on the floor. Her left arm made contact with the metal ground, but it wasn't until her weight pitched to the right that she realized that her right arm was not were it should've been. The metal terminal on her shoulder was vacant of the prosthetic arm that normally resided in it. She swore as she turned over on her back, looking up at the ceiling. She breathed heavily as her blurry vision began to clear, showing her the crisp, sleek room she was in. She looked to her left and right, seeing the other cryotanks lined up, all of which were open like hers.

"My arm..." She muttered softly, her voice sounding foreign and raw, the effect of years of not using her vocal cords. She heaved her weight upwards and sat up, using her arm to balance her as she stood to her feet, her legs shaking and shivering as she did. She said nothing to the others, still in minor and beginning to feel rather nauseous. She spotted an old man that she didn't remember, frowning slightly.

Her face pulled into an agape from as she recognized him. Ailbeart Rend? She squinted and looked at the thin man. What on earth was he doing here? She sighed, turning her head towards the corridor as everyone went down it, following them.

She was completely dazed, even through Benji's speech, simply following close behind as they all went to the dorms. She caught her breath as the doctor mentioned her bionic arm, sliding her thin body past him and stepping into the sleek, silver room. She opened the case and relief filled her as she beheld her prosthetic limb. She shut the case and hurriedly dressed, with one arm, into a pair of jeans and black slip-on shoes made of a soft canvas material. She pulled a grey and black long-sleeve shirt, but threw it on her shoulder, not yet putting it on.

She picked up the case the her arm was in, following the others as they went back towards the kitchen. She sat down at the table, setting the case down on the metal surface. She clicked the box open and removed the sleek metal limb. It weighed nearly the same as her other arm and held the same shape and could withstanding the same amount of force, if not a little more. The only difference in her real arm and the prosthetic, aside from it's the material it was made of, was that the latter was sleek and black, and had parts that one could see the cables through. The thick chords wrapped around each other and into the limb, seeming eerily similar to actual strands of muscle.

Yazmin positioned the arm on the table as Benji spoke. She grabbed the three tools from the case, and set them on the table by the limb. She took the smallest of the three tools and inserted it into a small hole in her shoulder terminal. She twisted it, 180 degrees, and the metal covering on the terminal slid open, exposing the connectors, nerve receptors, and artificial shoulder joint.

She slid the prosthetic arm close and connected the arm to the shoulder joint, then pulled the three slack cables and attached them into the corresponding connection point. She breathed out, slowly to calm herself and prepare for the tidal wave of pain that was about to come. She reached to a small dial on the bicep region of the arm, exhaled, and twisted.

As she turned the dial, she gritted her teeth, letting out a rather loud grunt of pain as the artificial nerves activated in her shoulder terminal, the cables all pulling taut and the arm's hydraulics hissing and shifting with a small release of CO2 gas from her wrist. She swore aloud, glancing apologetically at Benji, who then continued.

Yazmin flexed the muscles in her shoulder, the fingers on the mechanical arm contracting into a fist. Pleased, she released the fist and touched her thumb to her index, middle, ring, and little finger. Satisfied that her arm was working, she put the tools away and shut the case, listening to Benji.

She gaped as he broke the news. Space? How the hell were they in space? They were supposed to be underground!

"So, you're saying they lied to us? And- why didn't you wake us up, two years ago?" She asked, the incredulous look clear on her face.

[Eru Iluvatar]

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Ailbeart Rend

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"William the Lion!" Ailbeart's father had said to him. "He's unfortunately characterised for his defeats. You know what was great about him, though? He never did stop trying to retake Northumberland for the Scots. Throughout all of those treaties, he was just biding his time. He knew he would outlive Henry, and he did. He thought he might outlive ol' Lionheart, and what do you know? It was only in John's time when he finally let go of his dream. But it wasn't because he was old and John was young and in his prime, no. He had a divine warning. From God."

The first time Ailbeart Rend woke up that day was when the cryotank finally released him from its freezing embrace. His first step out of the tank was as that of a child, inexperienced and pitiful. The thought emerged somewhere in his mind that he might be a clone of the original Ailbeart, stepping out into the world of the future, after the original had discovered a way to live forever. He quickly dismissed the idea, for he knew that if that were at all a possibility, his body would be decades younger than it was. Truly, Ailbeart was still his original self, with no legacy as of yet to leave behind. But, yes, that was what he was here for... Rend was lost within his own thoughts after he woke up for the first time on that day. With each subsequent thought he only drew himself deeper into his own mind, and so he hardly took notice of the four other people in the same room. His only physical action was a sleight movement of his hand to his forehead, where he assured the existence of his polyester eye-patch. He was vaguely aware of voices coming from around him - a man, then a woman. Nobody addressed him directly, but he could sense their eyes upon him from time to time. Memories were slowly returning to him, yet they presented themselves within Rend's mind as pseudo film reels, and he was effectively reliving his own life - albeit at a much faster pace - by observing them. The people in the room began to drawl away from him slowly, and this triggered some instinctual response within Rend, leading him to so too follow them, zombie-like and silent. The air in the connecting corridor was noticeably strange, it tasted something like the toxic byproduct of factories. The lighting throughout the corridor had a quality of dullness, and the walls were coated in such a reflective metallic substance that the light reverberated several times over itself, giving different levels of height in the corridor a different intensity to the eyes. On the whole, it felt genuinely like a cliché hallway from a haunted house, only with an hollow and futuristic take on the concept.

"Surprise! It's me, B-Benji!" Rend's ears had apparently adjusted to the present situation, but it made the shrill, nerve-wracked voice of the man suddenly facing them all the more conspicuous. A subtle monotone ringing began in the back of Ailbeart's head then, which would remain for some time. He hardly had a time to look around the kitchen space before the spokesman - a doctor, if he remembered correctly - continued to ramble while draping blankets over the shoulders of Rend and the others. Rend made no effort to stop the man from either speaking or touching him, for it seemed he and Benji were processing the situation very differently. Ailbeart was quiet, reserved, unintentionally drawing into himself despite his extroverted personality, and Benji was most obviously panicked. Now the latter was cutting into what looked like a cake, and wielding a knife. Why in God's name is he cutting a cake? The worrying action brought Rend to his senses a little more. He began to stare, bewildered, around the kitchen: the med-bay area, that was crammed with unnerving machines and robotics, the excessively glossy table-tops and their computer inhabitants. Ailbeart very quickly realised one drastic change of the future they had literally stepped into - technology had taken over, completely and totally. He felt his face twitch slightly, and his beard bristled in such a way that he felt like an army of ants were moving across him. Suddenly Benji was moving, and thankfully knife-less, heading towards another doorway that had been forgotten outside of Ailbeart's line of sight. He followed the rest as he did before, though as his awareness returned, he noticed one of the other Project Renascence members - a tall black man - glancing over at him more than the rest were in their naturally curious states. These glances were also different because of the look of the eyes that perpetrated them - eyes that were more hostile than simply curious.

Each blanket-wrapped, scantily-clad person dispersed into rooms that connected to a large chamber they had entered. By process of elimination, Ailbeart stalked towards the last door on the left and slid inside. He mashed the buttons on the inside of the door until it slid shut without a sound. Silence. Rend let out a heavy breath and sucked in the not-so-fresh air. He rubbed his eyes and scratched at his temple, leaning his weight against the paper-thin but surprisingly resilient door. He just needed to think... think. Cryonautics. Holding a scientist at gunpoint. That man- what was his name? Ah. Andrew, aye. A splatter of blood against the wall. Videos, training procedures, hours of preparation while the handgun still held fast in his hand, becoming progressively heavier over time. A pill. Leaving the world behind in a freezing tank. The future. He had made it. Good God, he had made it.

Ailbeart Rend woke up for the second time that day.

A matter of minutes later, Benji had gathered what he had assumed to be everyone back in the kitchen, to reveal startling news. But Benji had made a crucial mistake, for Rend, adorned in new clothes and a fresh, aware mindset, did not return to the kitchen upon leaving his room. In fact, they had not even had everyone present when they had gathered in the kitchen. The first meeting of the crewmates could have gone far better. As a window slid open slowly in the kitchen, Rend walked alone through dim-lit corridors. He had left something behind for himself before he had taken the pill however many years ago - a guarantee, or rather a safe-guard against the future - and he could not begin without it.

[Deserted]

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Echo Montegawitz

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Five... the following and the tour consisted of five of the six members of the team. Next to the empty and deactivated cryotank at on the end (where Benji had emerged) Echo remained. Rather than following along in all of the hubbub and reorientation, she had scrunched down into the fetal position while still inside of her tank. She didn’t care that she was cold, that she was mostly naked, that she was leeching cryo suspension fluid from her pores, or that her electrolytes had been boosted through the roof in order to keep her blood a sludge in her body instead of a rigid ice that would explode her cells and veins.
You idiot! How could you be so wrong!? How could this even be possible? This wasn’t supposed to happen!
She was inside of her own head thinking.
Because you’re awake, it means that the project has failed or that the project has succeeded. It means that you have embarrassed yourself again.
She said nothing, simply shifting her gaze from nothing in particular to nothing else in particular. While the others were viewing their quarters, she stood, compelled by something she had unwittingly observed, and she walked ahead slowly. She was drawn forward as if not by her own will. There... there was the table and the cake and the knife. Her hand stretched out and gently and quietly wrapped around the metal handle. It felt hot against her cold flesh even though it was only room temperature. There, she stared at the utensil for a moment. There was a flash as she could see her face in the broad section for a moment.
This could do the trick, quick and easy. Painful and messy, but a sure thing.
She rotated it around for a moment, observing the lights glinting in the metal. Then it came slicing down. Through the cake, of course splitting the spongy surface and dragging icing down into the void. Again the weapon penetrated its victim, and a chunk came slipping off and onto a saucer.
It probably means that the entire human race is relying on you to meet your obligations. You can’t be some sort of a savior, you don’t know how.
She plated 5 servings, and then proceeded to the rest of the kitchen without taking one for herself. Then she immediately began tidying up to prevent spoilage. She placed dishes into the robotic cleaning system and promptly set it to rinse, wash, dry, sort, and stow all of the dirty dishes. It was happy to comply.
If I die, they die with me. Then again I don’t even know if we have enough supplies, you might just make it worse if you are alive!
“I always had a clear goal. Something to work toward. I don’t know what to do anymore.” she said out loud. It was impossible to tell if she was speaking to the group who had reconvened in the kitchen or if she was just thinking out loud. Without listening for a response, she immediately headed over to the food synthesizer and opened an access panel. She punched a few buttons and there were a large group of green lights. Page after page flipped past. She was familiar with it, she was the nutritionist of the crew after all.
Maybe it will be different. There are only six people to tend... with the weight of 143 billion expectations all waiting for me to fail. I can’t do this!
The trillion dollar machine was nothing more than a glorified 3D Printer, laying down proteins, sugars, fiber, water, air, vitamins, and synthesized flavors all at a dizzying pace and served at the temperature appropriate in order to create food. However much people thought the machine was a miracle, making something from nothing, it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Every bladder included was nearly irreplaceable since it was so highly processed and decontaminated and carefully packaged that it took months of manufacturing for just one of the proteins. There were thousands... and it would all become poop shortly after use which was completely unusable for recycling. It was impressive and (in fact) essential for the time being. But it was not infinite. Already a considerable dent had been made with Benji’s sustenance. He apparently really liked flavor pack #TSNO113138... whatever that was.
Damn! Plenty enough. Plenty for all of us. So much for martyrdom.
It became apparent to anyone looking upon her, that she was shivering while already heavily into her priority chores. "We... We have maybe 3 years of food."

Upon that pointless statement, she turned and started looking down various corridors and cabinets near in the cryochamber. She found it... seeds, thousands of seeds of plants of all sorts. Some medicinal, some food, some aesthetic, and some from species only the database only knew what to do with. They were all decontaminated and stored so that they could be grown hydroponically. The seal on a few cases were breached, and the long dead plants were now simply dry husks. A species lost to the toils of time and the fallibility of mankind.
Why couldn't that have been me?
Fortunately the important plants were cushioned by the less practical varieties.

In addition there were embryos, frozen just like the crew, that were to be inserted into purged chicken and ostrich eggs. Again, most of the less practical species were breached from age, and would have rotted away had they not clean swept every surface of the space craft before launch, and purged the embryo of all bacteria and viruses before storage. "I can start hydroponics right now if we have space to begin, that can sustain us indefinitely so long as we maintain power."

Her voice could be overheard most of the chambers, so long as the doors were open. The ship was a cramped space, and real estate was prime when floating in space.

[beyond visions]

---

Benji Baker

---

---

The Artemis: Kitchen

---

Soon enough, Yaz hit Benji with two questions, "So, you're saying they lied to us? And- why didn't you wake us up, two years ago?" To which he followed with grinding his teeth and a light yet frantic tapping of the floor, a habit in his discomfort. "Sorry, I just--..." he cut himself off short to explain himself in a different sense, "Do you ever get that feeling when... err... um.. you're afraid to take the next step-- wait, um no, not like that-- It's more like, would I regret it? Who am I to make a decision like that?" What they then saw were sparks fly from his circuits, a breakdown, or perhaps a mental and emotional glitch from poor Benji. He started speaking in a frenzy, "I couldn't-- NO, obey the MISSION, right!? Earth? Yaicarro? What's the difference. Is there a difference? YES! Of course there is a difference. They lied to us-- THAT'S THE DIFFERENCE! I decided to wake you, but what's that suppose to do? Get my tank fixed! What to discover it's unfix-able? I don't know that for sure, but what if? What if there is nothing anyone can do to?... I'll just be alone again." He stopped and climbed up to his feet, pulling down his sweater vest to adjust out the wrinkles that formed into it through the curved sitting positioned he exited. It was out of his character to think like that, to talk like that. Pessimism lingered and lathered its bitter being against Benji's tongue, tainting his words. The doctor realized and notified himself of the case of fear he played product of.

He sighed, "Forgive me, I have a hard time talking about it, because I'm not sure what to say-- there's too much to say. Other than well... I didn't want to do anything I would regret. I started thinking, 'Maybe they will wake up anytime now. What if my machine isn't broken, maybe it was programed that way. Maybe we are suppose to all wake a certain time for a certain unknown reason, I just can't mess with it.' There's a lot maybes and what ifs. No, I'm pretty sure the thing needs repair. I don't know anything much about fixing tech, but according to the main controls in the cockpit-- where you can activate a tank off or on-- it's not making any connections. Benji soon changed the subject to another pressing matter, but he made sure to not linger on it. "So, we still have a decision to make. We could always set course back to Earth or stay on the path already set for us, for the mystery planet. But as I can see, it probably be best if we wait to make any sort of decision, to have everyone here. Let's do that after everyone gets settled in. I understand if any of you are still shaken up by that type of awakening."

"Hm, that's strange. Excuse, me but I feel a sudden lost of appetite," he grabbed his plate of the cake and walked over to the ship's refrigerator. "But, I'll save it for later." Opening the door, he placed his dessert gently inside. "Listen, if you need help around this place, don't worry I know the ship from top to bottom. Just give me a call, I've got you covered."

With that, Benji exited the kitchen, to which he made his way to the cryo-tanks to which he passed the room and overheard Echo, "I can start hydroponics right now if we have space to begin, that can sustain us indefinitely so long as we maintain power." Benji only shortly responded with, "U-um yeah, that sounds... cool." He actually did not quite hear what she was saying. If he was more himself at the moment, he would probably run up and say hi pretty excitedly. Rather he was still quite shaken up from his brief breakdown. Ever since what happened, he had an unhealthy fear of ever getting back into a cryo-tank, but he would have to soon face an old enemy.

They were free now. Free to wander or free to work. Although they will never be free to return to their normal lives, they still hold purpose that reminds them of that past. Whether it be the medic bay for the doctor or the cockpit for the pilot, home and the workplace seem so much closer now. Some may wish to keep matters strictly business, others may strive for friendship, if not something more. No matter, this is what they have, this who they have. But more importantly, this is their time. As for Owen, he could get his answers about the absence of Andrew through Rend. And though Benji dreaded it, his cryo-tank was a concern- he planned to speak with Yaz about it. That leaves Tahlia and Cryonautics's poster child. Does suspicion even accusation follow next for Echo? She seemed to be the company's favorite? What is it that she knows, or knew that they didn't?

[TheMadAsshatter]

---

Tahlia Spade / Yazmin Cormick / Echo Montegawitz

---

Upon entering the kitchen, Tahlia saw everyone sitting around the table. Being her usual self, she decided to take a step back and lean against one of the counters, listening to the conversation unfold. A moment later, Yaz walked in, carrying her arm and some tools with her. The first thing she did upon taking her seat was begin putting it on. As much as Tahlia didn’t want to seem intrusive, she couldn’t help but be curious as Yaz went about connecting the arm and attaching everything together, as it seemed. So much so that she even began to tune out the conversation at hand.

Once it seemed everything was done properly, Yaz turned a knob, causing her to recoil in pain. Tahlia wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she just connected the nerves with the arm. Must’ve hurt. "You okay?" Tahlia asked.

Yazmin unclenched her teeth, releasing a deep sigh, then began tapping the ends of her mechanical fingers, each flinching in response. She nodded as Tahlia spoke. "Yeah, I’m good. It’s just that the artificial and biological nerves connect through electromagnetic pulses, and the first one kick-starts it all… not exactly a pleasant feeling."

"I can imagine," Tahlia replied. She crossed her arms and shifted her focus back to Benji, right as the windows began to open and she saw the outside. She had barely registered what she was looking at when Benji broke the news. She heard Yazmin say something, but was too busy trying to process this newfound knowledge to understand it. Her eyes switched between Benji and the window a couple of times before she pushed herself away from the counter and went towards the window. Sure enough, there was no ground, no mountains, no Earth; nothing anywhere around them aside from an expanse of stars.

They were actually in space. Tahlia wasn’t sure what to think in that moment. Really, she wasn’t doing much thinking at all. She was more lost, just sort of staring out into the abyss as it were. She was both enamored by how pretty it all was, but also still processing the fact that they were no longer anywhere near Earth.

And then there came the thought of why they were somewhere Cryonautics didn’t tell them they would be. What was the purpose of that? Why lie when they were going to be the last six people alive anyways? She turned around and looked at Benji, who was at that point talking about where they were going. Yaicarro. What a weird name. She was about to ask how far away they were from this mystery planet, when Benji had a sort of breakdown. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to prompt a reaction from him afterwards, so she decided to just let him carry on and take his leave.

"I see very little difference in way the Cryonautics has handled the situation as opposed to the information we were given." the voice drew Tahlia from her thinking, "A ship functions as a bunker only mobile, and the difference between an isolated colony and repopulation is a very fine line. We signed up to start a new world. The fact that the old one may still be in existence is moot. Our old world is gone now, by hundreds of years... and the current one will age and turn to dust should we decide to head back, simply distancing ourselves even more. We would be completely alien should we return."

Even in the moment of reflection and opinion, Echo worked. She cycled through a few screens and then began punching buttons in the environmental system. Immediately it woke up, no longer being in its long suspension and energy reserve mode and becoming a sensation. A little ozone here, some ionization, a pinch of variable humidity there, some geosmin, and a hint of dust... this added distinct petrichor to the air causing the claustrophobic confines seem more like a cabin in the woods than being trapped in a bubble of life in a sea of death. This was atmospheric cosmetics at their finest. Too bad she couldn’t actually maintain or repair the system, merely use it.

Tahlia cocked an eyebrow and turned her head in the direction of her voice. She recognized the voice as being Echo's, but what she was saying almost alarmed Tahlia. Sure, she wasn’t as chipper as, say, Benji, but Tahlia didn’t recall her being so pensive, and in such a negative way. Tahlia followed the corridor that Echo’s voice emanated from and found her working on some of the environmental control systems… still in her underwear. It wasn’t unlike Echo to try to stay busy, but this seemed unhealthy. The fact that she went straight to work right out of the cryo tube, without even sparing a second thought about her situation as it were, was definitely enough to concern Tahlia.

"Hey, you gonna get some clothes on? It’s kinda chilly in here." Of course, as usual, she approached the situation with little tact, even given her observations.

It was almost like a different person spun out from behind her. Echo transformed from an emotionless robot and into the person everybody had known. Maybe it was just the cryo suspension wearing off. She smiled and seemed to get her bearings a little better. "A habit which would be in my best interest to break. I am afraid that I got used to it with all of those last minute medical exams."

With a sudden wave of self-consciousness, she made a route directly for the blankets and tossed one around her only to return to the environmental controls and continue her task one handed. The sudden change in attitude, of course, did not go unnoticed by Tahlia, nor did Echo’s only marginal attempt to peel herself away from her task. It almost seemed like she was obsessed with doing work, but perhaps that was just Tahlia being overcritical, as usual. Regardless, something was up with Echo, without a doubt. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Echo, stopped once the question had escaped Tahlia’s lips, and then began again this time slower not out of annoyance but perhaps because she was actually forced to face her attitude. "There was always an undeniable impeccable sense of focus throughout the selection process. There was a clear goal and if we didn’t keep a tight reign on our minds, then we were going to fail. Now that achievement is well in hand, and we have been activated for our duties, I find that I don’t have anything to focus on..."

She abruptly stopped tweaking the environmental controls and slammed the panel shut again with more emotion than effort. "With the exception of busy work, apparently."

She turned away from the window and sat down at the table for but a moment, and then stormed the food storage for the cake speaking as she collected a snack to tame her frustration. Even then there was reserve as the section she sliced was considerably smaller than those she plated and was neatly cut."No matter how prepared I was, and no matter how much a figment it may seem. My heart created expectations should I wake from Cryo, that the world would have been frozen with me. My family would be present to greet me, the other candidates who didn’t make the cut would be in conversation at a welcome party, the Earth would be proceeding just as it ever had. A whimsical concept, I know, but ingrained nevertheless. Yet, here we are in an expectedly bleak reality, and it merely seems as though my success is the cause of their silence rather than a product of it.

How do you compensate for this blow? Everyone is dead, or at the very least everybody we knew. I find it a press to the soul to have the hopes of billions of people tethered to us... their final gamble. Renaissance has been initiated. It is a burden, a weight so immense that no joy can stand from being dragged into the abyss. But look at me blowing a storm cloud over the ship. It’s good to see that the team made it through cryo just fine."

Choosing to ignore Echo’s abrupt shifts in attitude for a moment, Tahlia thought about the question. She didn’t really have any strong connections with anyone back on Earth. Not to say she was a loner, but she didn’t have a lot of close friends before they left. Even she and her mom had grown distant. It was fairly easy for her to just leave it behind, especially with the knowledge that it may save humanity. Of course, Cryonautics lied about one thing; who's to say that the Earth really was completely toast? No doubt things were turning south, but maybe society bounced back.

Tahlia was going on a tangent. She thought back to the original question. "The way I see it, what’s done is done. Not much we can do now except for press on. People were bound to die from the moment everything started going to hell. I prepared myself for the worst from the word go." She paused for a moment, trying to gauge Echo’s expression. "I’m sure that’s not a big comfort, and it’s too late to do much about it now. We’re alive though. That’s good."

It occurred to Tahlia that she could probably find some information on the planet they were headed towards in the cockpit. "You should get some clothes on. I’m going to the cockpit to see what there is to see. Let me know if you need something," she said before turning and heading off.

Echo agreed, and wandered off to find a living space and lockers while carrying a saucer and fork to accompany her treat.

[Atrophy]

---

Owen Childs

---

“Replaced. Right,” said Owen, hanging his head as if he had just taken a profound interest in the slice of cake that had seemingly been snuck in below him.

Andrew hadn’t mentioned anything about being replaced—he had yelled something like ‘See you in the future!’ the last time the two had chatted. It was always a possibility that he never mentioned to avoid some uncomfortable conversation, or maybe something dire came up before they all took the pill. It was possible, but it didn’t seem very likely to Owen. He glanced around the room with narrowed eyes; the old geezer was nowhere to be found. Wisely, he had made himself a ghost a few years before nature went ahead and did it for him. Owen was about to raise his suspicions—was nobody else concerned that an unknown had been added to their little future force—when Benji pulled back the veil with the punch of a button and a nervous, stammered statement.

“Holy crap.”

Owen stared out at the abyss of space. It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been such a shock. A sudden wave of exhaustion rushed over him and he lowered himself into the chair that he had been ignoring, propping his forehead up with a hand as he continued to glare, mouth agape, out the window. They had been in space for over a hundred years? Owen took what little trivia he knew about space travel and started crunching numbers. He came to the conclusion that they were all really, very, extremely far from home—the results of watching too much sci-fi and not enough documentaries. He rubbed his temple, frustrated that the brains behind Cryonautics would hide something like this from them. Owen knew for sure that he never would had let himself be talked into this deathtrap otherwise.

Probably why they decided to omit that fact, he thought, nodding in consent as Yaz probed Benji for more answers. Owen, deep down, was glad that Benji had awaken them. He’d rather know his fate and have some say in it than defrost one morning to find themselves on an alien planet with the skeleton of their doctor. He just wished that Doc had done it sooner. Two years was a long time to be alone. Too long, really. He reexamined Benji through sprawled fingers, noticed his twitches, his darting eyes. Sure, he was always a little weird, a little shifty, like a mouse that had been give caffeine pills, but this was different. Owen cursed himself for not noticing how fragile the man appeared earlier. Yet, there was a hint of accusation in Owen’s stare. Benji was smart; he should’ve known not to isolate himself for so long. What’s the deal?

"So, we still have a decision to make. We could always set course back to Earth or stay on the path already set for us, for the mystery planet. But as I can see, it probably be best if we wait to make any sort of decision, to have everyone here. Let's do that after everyone gets settled in. I understand if any of you are still shaken up by that type of awakening."

“Not the worst morning I’ve ever had, but it’s definitely in my bottom three,” said Owen, sticking a fork into the cake and taking a bite out of it. It wasn’t so bad as long as he avoided the icing, which tasted like sugary tar and diabetes.“But yeah, seems like we got a pretty big decision to make once everybody’s cleared their thoughts. A few of them, actually.”

He stood up to dump the sweet shell of his cake in the compactor, taking a moment to brush any crumbs on his plate, when Echo’s words of them only having three years of food left rang through his head. Owen, grumbling like a child forced to finish their peas, quickly wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and cleaned the dish. Washing his hands, Owen’s mind turned to the missing old man; something about him was awfully familiar—emphasis on the awful. He wished he had given him a more discerning look earlier, but could he really be blamed for not wanting to be caught eyeing a nearly naked bag of bones? Still, he had questions for the old man the next time he showed his face. Owen just prayed this wouldn’t turn into his own (decrepit) white whale that’d alienate him from the group as being “that guy” who took to pushing around the elderly.

Yet before anything else, he needed someone to hear his concerns. He needed to talk with Tahlia. Yaz and Echo would have certainly be more pleasant people to chat with, and Owen felt that they could help in their own, likely more upbeat way, but in his eyes Tahlia was the most grounded of the crew. Truth be told, she was probably even more observant than him. She’d either confirm his suspicions or tell him to shove off, which he would assume to mean that he was just overreacting and should reevaluate his worries. Either way, he was certain she’d set him straight, or at the very least he wanted to be certain. There was a part of him felt that it could just lead to an argument, although there was always some fun in that. Regardless, with one last look out into space he turned and left the kitchen with hopes of catching Tahlia alone.

Of course, he didn’t even consider talking with Benji. The Doc was one of the highest things on Owen's growing list of concerns.

[beyond visions]

---

Benji Baker & Yazmin Cormick

Collab between @beyond visions and @SheriffLlama

---

---

The Artemis: Cryo-tanks

---

Yazmin knelt at the back of Benji's cryotank terminal. She viewed the screen as it displayed the readings from the machine. Honestly, the girl had no idea how these things worked. She'd never really taken a look at them beyond stepping into it. This wasn't some networking issue that she could break into with a terminal. This was a hardware issue and that would require parts. She pressed on the touch-screen terminal and brought up the cooling unit. It was the only thing left that she hadn't checked. The screen displayed an orange alert with an exclamation mark that read "Cryocooling Error - No Activation."

"Well what the frick does that mean?" She muttered absently. She pulled out one of her screwdrivers that she'd taken from her case, and opened the rear hatch, exposing the innards of the machine. She stuck her flesh hand in, but a flash of cold from the wires caused her to recoil and draw her hand back. She sighed, inserting her mechanical hand into the hatch. The prosthetic limb's sensors were highly temperature-resistant and only registered contact, not cold.
"Chilling." She said, completely aware that no one was listening and that her pun was awful.

From what she deducted, the cooling unit must have malfunctioned, and the gas was diverted into the machine's inner workings. She new from experience that units under serious cold-stress would completely shutdown. The inside of the cryotank shouldn't have been this cold. She used her mechanical arm to move the wires out of the way, and slid her head into the hatch so she could look around. She stifled a laugh as she could see the fog of her breath when she stuck her head inside.

"Found the problem?" Benji blurted both rather loudly and surprisingly, making that his second time giving someone an unexpected, unintentional scare. It is seemingly becoming a habit of his to sneak up on people like that, though it is unplanned. "Oh sorry about that, didn't mean to startle you there, Yaz." Benji unfolded his arms with a frown with a wrinkle of worry showing, "Y-you didn't hurt your head, right?" He feared that he may have caused her to bump her head against whatever was on the inside of the machine. "Because if you did, it's a good thing I'm a doctor, right? Ha, ha... ha," Benji's laughter was awkward, but that obvious. He feared that he had only made himself look even more like a weirdo in front of Yaz. He had already regretted his breakdown in the kitchen, and now he might prove himself to be a nuisance with the sudden unexpected scares. But Benji is never this self-conscious. No he is more of your fun-loving, happy-go-lucky guy- it was the cryo-tank that swayed him this way.

"No, seriously I'm really sorry." He brushed his fingers through the short strains stitched to the scalp while at the same time releasing an embarrassed sigh, "I seem to just--... My cryo-tank might not be the one thing that's broken." Benji furrowed his brow and shook his head, noticing what he had said and thus disagreeing with it. He started talking fast again, something he does only when put at unease, "N-no that's not right. I'm not insane. Maybe a few loose bolts, but not a nutjob. I know I lost it in the kitchen, b-but it won't happen again, I promise! It-It's just that I get a bit shaken up because of... well..." He ceased with a silence, a pause. Benji knew he needed to finish that sentence, although he prefer not to, but that is what happens when being born as an open book. Sometimes he can't keep shut about things, well really he never keeps quiet ever. Yet Benji committed to saying it, he had to, because he couldn't leave her hanging even if he knew whatever he says beyond this point is being taped through the surveillance cameras located throughout every room on the ship, except the restrooms and bedrooms for privacy. Each recording is stored and can be easily viewed at the cockpit with the rest of the other panels operating the ship. But even if he did ask if he can speak in private, that would be recorded and if anyone was to watch that through they might have a fair suspicion against Benji. It was just best if he needed to say something, he would just say it now while he had the chance.

"It's the cryo-tanks... I just wish that none of us have to use those things again. And don't get me wrong, I want it fixed because, well, we might have to use those things again. And if we for sure do, what if there is no way to fix mine. I'll be back by myself again, but then it will permanent. Because if it's broken, it's broken and then that means humanity must go on without me, which also means I can't stop you guys. Everyone else will have to return to their tanks in order to of course preserve their bodies for what can last lifetimes for the ship to reach it's destination. That means I get left out, literally. I will to stay on the ship wandering alone until... I guess I expire from starvation, according to what I overheard Echo saying that we only have three years of food. And I won't let it happen-- I don't want to die from starvation, and more importantly, I don't want to die alone... I'm willing to save myself before it happens."

Yazmin had jumped so hard when Benji arrived that she'd nailed her head against the cold metal of the cryotank. She scowled and turned, wiping a perky grin onto her face in attempts to downplay the pain. "Nope, we're all good doc. I did find the problem, though."

The young woman looked at the doctor as he spoke, kind eyes regarding him with empathy, rather than sympathy. His speaking of his own "brokenness" made her understand him just a little bit better. Without any request for permission or regard for whether or not it would make him uncomfortable, Yaz stepped forward and hugged the man. She was a hugger, to say the least.

"Benji, you won't... expire from starvation. I'm gonna fix the tank. I've rebuilt supercomputers in five hours, I can surely fix an over glorified high-tech sleeping bag." She said, and pulled back, looking him in the eye. "We're here for you, Benji."

The hug, that hug, may have only seemed like nothing more than a comforting gesture to anyone else. But for Benji, that meant human touch. It was something he had been long deprived of that even in the amidst of what he thought would be a perfect welcoming with the friendly greeting, warm blankets, and celebration cake, he never thought once about ever shaking their hand or even what Yaz is doing now by hugging. Sure he wrapped blankets on some, but that was their contact with a sheet of fabric. Now everything felt so real to him. Benji has made the claim of his awakening occurring two years prior to theirs, which was correct. Yet he only experienced that in physically terms, because all this time he could not help but allow his mind to translate the aimless wanderings through the ship whether it be on its floors or in its vents, to be what can be expressed as limbo. They were real people, not a figment of the imagination nor products of a hallucination.

Now was not the time to think about dying, no because Yaz has pieced inside of Benji the belief to be assured that death was not an impending predator. His plot to eliminate both a lonely death and a death of starvation by his own methods of medicine, has for now, been discarded. Besides, that is something for him to moreover discuss with Owen, since Dr. Childs is the crew's psychiatrist. As for Yaz, she was the computer scientist, and because Cryonautics selected only the best of best supposedly, the cryo-tank was really no problem for her capabilities.

But that was the first thing that crossed his mind, that he being hugged by someone. The second thought was to identify who was hugging him. Oh, that's right, that person seems to be Yaz, Yaz the girl who kept his heart a flutter before, but nothing like now. Benji would use the medical term of calling it a heart palpitation- that sensation you get when the heart either skips or adds an extra beat. He could feel it, but hoped Yaz wouldn't, since the heart palpitation can pulse through the chest, throat, or neck. However, would it hurt to confess or even hint to his interest? Benji needed to stop dealing with doubting right now while he still can; whether that be his doubt in his decision to shut off the tanks, or his doubt that leads him to believe his tank is a lost cause and that he himself is a lost cause.

After Yaz had pulled back from the hug following with, "We're here for you, Benji.", Benji smiled back. "Thank you, Yaz. Y-you're pretty great--Um... Like doesn't sound creepy or weird, right? I don't think it sounds creepy or, you know, weird... ha, ha. Hey, have you checked out the ship's library? Maybe when you finish or take a break we could totally hang out there..." He lowered his voice a bit nervous, "Unless that sounds super nerdy... and stuff."

At the mention of the library, Yazmin's ears perked up slightly. "A library? Maybe they have something on the cyotanks so I can be sure I'm fixing the right thing." She said, completely missing any kind of hint he might've been throwing. She turned and looked down at the hatch. "I need to find a flashlight so I can actually see what I'm doing. Maybe there are tools in storage or something. I'm gonna need a soddering pin," She began, turning and walking towards the door, counting the items on her finger. "Something to help seal the cracks..." She said and turned into the corridor.

"Flashlight? Soddering pin? I'm on it," he immediately gave the quick response as soon as Yaz finished her last sentence. He pushed himself to help her not just because Benji is indeed helpful, but that provided him the fastest escape out of the room, as he felt a bit anxious when she overlooked his previous suggestion. Rushing to scamper and storm out of the room and into the halls, Benji quite in fact tripped when turning- he has his clumsy moments. But no matter, he bounced back up and left. He made his simple path to the storage room, trying to make himself useful. Being the crew's doctor, that was the job he was offered when first contacting the company, though now he speculated whether or not the team would even trust him as a person as he even knew his reason for waiting two years before shutting off the tanks was really not a reason at all. The thing is, Benji genuinely wants to tell them what happened, but he just can't.

[Atrophy]

---

Owen Childs & Tahlia Spade

---

“Hey, Sunshine, just the woman I wanted to see! Can I bother you for a minute?” said Owen, practically jogging to catch up with Tahlia as she made her way through the hall. To an outsider it would have almost looked like a scene out of a sickening high school movie where the guy stops the girl by quickly pressing his arm against the wall to block their path to class while managing to not accidentally clothesline the girl. The only difference here was that they were ten years too old (much like the actual actors), trapped in a tin can floating out in the middle of space, and that the smirk that appeared on Owen’s face when he uttered the pet name ‘Sunshine’ was more goading than flirtatious. Besides that, he might as well have been asking her to the Homecoming dance. Owen, however, assumed he’d just be lucky if she didn’t just knock his arm out of the way and blow right by him.

Tahlia’s eye twitched at the word “sunshine”. She knew exactly who it was, but she wanted to see his face, out of some vain hope that she was wrong. Her eyes followed the man’s arm up to his face. Owen; exactly the person Tahlia did not want to see at the moment. All Tahlia wanted to do was get to the cockpit and try to learn as much as possible about this planet they were headed towards. But of course, this man wanted to play 20 questions, and evidently had to exacerbate his point by intentionally blocking her way. Irritating as it was, it had been less than an hour since they woke up, and it was too early to be burning any bridges. She decided to play it cool. “I’m a bit busy right now. I’d like to know what we’re headed towards,” she said, gently pushing Owen’s arm aside and beginning to press on.

“Really, why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Doc already told us we’re headed to some mysterious Planet X where we will likely discover that it, just like Earth, is also now uninhabitable.” Owen paused, and then tensed his lips. “Seriously, it’s important,” he added, hoping that she wouldn’t know that he would’ve said that regardless of any actual circumstance.

Reluctantly, Tahlia stopped herself. As much as she didn’t want to, she sensed some small sense of urgency in Owen’s voice. She let out a small sigh and turned around to look at the man. “If you must know, I’d like to know as much about the planet as I can from what the ship has... I dunno, scanned? Anyways, what is it?” she asked, placing a hand on one hip.

“Two things,” he said, holding up two fingers as if to reinforce his statement before turning to lean against the wall, still blocking her path. He lowered his voice so that hopefully nobody else could eavesdrop; Echo, true to her namesake, had proven that it was easy enough with the tomb-like walls. “I’m worried about the Doc. He was always a little off, you know, but in a sort of endearing way. Now, though, he just seems...well...you know what I mean, right? Surely I can’t be the only one who noticed how he’s no longer playing with his full deck.”

Tahlia shifted her posture and softened her expression somewhat. It was refreshing to see Owen being more down to Earth for once. She only wished that the circumstances leading up to it weren’t what they were. “Yes, of course I’ve noticed. I can’t imagine what the guy’s been through; having to live in this tin can, alone, for two years.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “I don’t think he’s a threat to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she finished, going back to her usual deadpan expression.

She looked away for a moment, as if thinking about something. Echo was acting pretty uncharacteristically as well. Tahlia wondered if it would be a good idea to bring it up. It was possible that she just needed time. Still, it was probably worth mentioning. “You may want to check on Echo as well. I talked to her a minute ago and she’s...” Tahlia paused as she searched for the right words. She found the task more difficult than she would have thought. “I don’t know. She’s definitely not herself though. You should talk to her.”

“You’re telling me that Darlin’ doesn’t always start work in her underwear?” said Owen with a quick smile. He held his hand up as if to hush Tahlia before she had a chance to snap at him. She was right, of course, Echo wasn’t acting quite like her normal self. True, she was being the typical busy body that ended up making her the poster girl of the project, but it seemed different. Desperate, almost. Owen remembered the first words she had uttered after thawing out: “I always had a clear goal. Something to work toward. I don’t know what to do anymore.” So much for the future being a break from sitting in front of a chaise lounge mumbling ‘I see, I see’ while he rubbed his chin.

“I’ll make sure to sit with her after Benji. And it’s not necessarily that I was worried about him hurting other people, per se…” Owen trailed off. He never was great at being discreet, and he knew for certain that Tahlia would get his implication. “Just could you keep an eye on him—just when I’m not around? Let me know if you see anything unusual.”

Owen’s instincts did not fail him. Tahlia had definitely started to take a verbal crack at Owen when he stopped her. In it’s place, she let out an annoyed sigh and let him speak. When he mentioned Benji’s state, Tahlia got the message. Even she had suspected such tendencies earlier. She simply nodded and let Owen finish. “You say that as if I wasn’t planning on doing it already,” she quipped, then quickly added “But I know what you mean. I’ll look out for him.” That being said, Tahlia turned back towards where she was going. “Now, if I may, I’d like to get down to the cockpit and see if I can gather anything. I doubt this ship has a CIC, so that would be the next best place,” she said, beginning to head off again.

He started to raise his hand to stop her from going—he felt like addressing the issue of old outsider—but then stopped himself. That issue would be brought up soon enough, he decided, and he had already taken more time from her than he thought she’d spare; it’d be best not to push it. Owen watched her as she strode away and, for a moment, felt a tinge of regret that he hadn’t even asked her how she was doing between the whole being lost in space and missing a hundred-and-two birthdays. He almost called out to her right there with some line about how he’d be there if she ever needed to talk, but then thought better of it. First of all, it was a trite sentiment that was completely noncommittal and tended to only serve in regards of making one look as if they actually cared instead of actively cared. Secondly, he doubted she’d even take him up on it.

“Okay,” was all Owen said, lamely, as she crossed a threshold and left his sight, the hastily added ‘thanks’ too muted that he wasn’t even sure if she would hear it, let alone if he even said it aloud in the first place.

[Deserted]

Echo Montegawitz

---

FREV-R (Force Resistance Enhanced Virtual-Reality) had hit the schools with the force of an asteroid impact. It was brand new in Echo’s father’s generation. A training that went beyond words, went beyond sounds, went beyond stereoscopic vision, and jumped straight to muscle memory. While clumsy and more of a novelty in the ritzy schools when it first came out, in a matter of decades FREV-R had grown up. It wasn’t sporadic, lazy, or antisocial any longer. It had matured into reliable, useful, and user-friendly. Not only that but inertia, temperature, and even smell had enhanced the FREV-Rs after the years to make it a full simulation.

However, the actual muscle memory learning that made trades and tech as well as fine arts learned at thousands of the pace of normal, the true game-changer was the content. Several billion sims had been recorded and written for FREV-R specifically for manufacturing, maintenance, and repair.

Couple that with self-repairing and maintaining systems, it took the “nician” out of “Technician.” Gradually titles such as electrician or mechanic evaporated from the industries. Engineers became more of designers than anything, especially with powerful computer programs resolving all of the math and calculations that would take a classical engineer dozens of years to calculate. The only true people that really had to know from the ground up were theoretical inventors (and these sorts of people were neither a reliable, nor accessible.)

So, when Echo accessed the control panel on each of the quarters, it was no surprise to see a lack of an engineer on board. FREV-R (in combination with the crew) was the engineer, preparing them for any task that the self-repairing systems could not provide.

Echo found her quarters easy enough, the keypads were color coded to the individual and showed the registry number that Cryonautics entrusted for all computer and security access. You didn’t need to knock or randomly open doors, it listed the tenant and whether or not there was an occupant in the room or if they set their level to private. The chamber opened with a gasp, as the system awoke again. It was a room that Benji hadn’t been in for the better part of a year... probably because it was intrusive to sit in someone else’s room, and root through someone else’s things while they slept just down the hallway. No dust, and only a little cold. The lights flicked on, and properly entered into Day mode making the false windows display a slightly cloudy, slightly rainy day with a little wind rolling through the system causing the false sense that it was causing faux windows and roofs to shift at the gusts. She waved her hand and the performance shutdown promptly and return to a sterile environment.
I don’t want to be comforted right now
Echo changed her clothes quickly, and suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion roll over her. She plopped onto the bed, glancing around to see that whoever was stowing their belongings really didn’t take note of the feng shui that Echo preferred. Out of curiosity she began looking through what had been provided.
How could I be so blind! I barely packed anything because I wasn’t going to need it. I could have been exposed.
Most of her possessions were not what she brought. Rather, it was provided by her mother and sisters. It was rife with impracticality and upper crust. She wasn’t particularly partial to the formal ware, the personal luxuries, and the knickknacks that had joined her... but then again she wasn’t really all that much into free time since joining the program. There was a card left by her family, which she read and didn’t really say anything more than pride about her. She smiled and placed it in her nightstand.
Even to the very end, they didn’t say anywhere anything about love.
There was little black dress hung predominantly in the closet. A quandary rolled through her mind. Project Renaissance was probably the biggest, most expensive, most high-pressure, and probably the most successful speed date ever connived. There was Benji and Owen, both were tolerable. Andrew and Blake didn’t seem to make the cut and both seemed linger with their eyes upon Echo at meetings and training sessions. Beyond that she had no clue who the third man was.

“Mother,” she grumbled to the past, and promptly stuck the dress to the back of her wardrobe. Now was not the time for romance, without a stable food supply or a stable location nobody had better wind up with a bun in the oven any time soon.

However, upon moving her garments aside, she noticed a few boxes that were disheveled. Furthermore, there was a number of divots out of her closet hatch. Upon closer inspection, she identified them easily as the movies and entertainment loved to show, laser burns. Places where the metal had been heated to the boiling point in moments as they roasted their way through someone. Hurriedly, she opened the rest of her closet shoving out her belongings and rifling through them. She found a device of crude construction well hidden. It looked like a bomb. She grabbed it, which was probably the dumbest thing in the world to do, but she did it anyway. Then, she proceeded to find the nearest diagnostics station in order to assess the device. There was absolute fact that there was a firefight on the ship, and also that someone wanted at least one of the crew (if not all of them) dead.

[beyond visions]

---

Benji Baker

---

---

The Artemis: Living Quarters

---

Steadily, Benji angled the card all while briefly holding his breath. Why did he do this to himself? It was stressful. Though he somehow convinced himself that this was better. Yes, that building a house of cards was the best method of killing time rather than a lonesome game of pool billiards in the living area behind the couch. Hate is a strong word, but Benji hated pool. Ironically, saying that he was good was actually an understatement, since he had the hidden talent of being a master pool player. Well, maybe that is going over the top, but at the least to say, Benji was an expert. After playing the same game for roughly over the course of two years, he has developed both strategy and skill to gain the most efficiency out of each shot. And though Benji is quite the klutz, always knocking things over and tripping on his own feet, games where accuracy and precision were key have always been his favorite. Hobbies that don't spare the time for reckless behavior in a way helped him with his own awkward coordination. It was as if whenever he puts his undivided attention towards one goal, rather than being a bit neurotic and scattered brain in his daily walks of life, he never misses the target or what he is aiming for.

When the full deck completed in its rearranged order and formation, Benji leaned back in his chair while admiring the house of cards built on the firm foundation of his desk, as each personal bedroom was constructed with one. "Now, what am I going to do?" he whispered the simple query to himself. All the others were perhaps asleep at this time, as this was now hours after departing from the cryo-tanks. Tossing and turning in some kind of wrestle with his sheets was no activity he found inviting, really sleeping in general was something he preferred to do as much as it would keep him alive. Benji took a glance over at the ceiling vent- Tempting, he thought. But one trip to the hideout is enough for a day.

No matter, he was going to find some way to occupy himself since falling asleep was clearly an option he refused, simply because it felt impossible. He could always read a book, but the thing was that he already did, so he was now in the mood for something else. But that's when he had the idea since Benji initially wanted to give welcome gifts to the rest of the crew, though being on board a ship he does not have the privilege to visit a mini-mall and scout out for presents. So, Benji pulled forth his desk drawer and grabbed some spare printer paper he previously found in the library near by the printer of course. Cards were just as good, he planned to let the others know how much he cared about them. Would he sound obsessive or clingy? Maybe, but it didn't matter to him, he out of all people should be thankful for the company.

---

---

The Artemis: Cockpit

---

When time passed and Benji noticed footsteps throughout the hallway outside his room, he knew that it was time. Benji dressed into his usual apparel, although this time without the sweater vest, as he only wears it when feeling rather chilly on the ship. Instead he'll go with just the button-up shirt as his top. When ready to start his day, he directed himself towards the cockpit while whistling a joyful tune. Once there, it was no surprise to him to find Tahlia as the pilot. Strange enough then Benji noticed how he has not spoken to her thus far, he actually felt bad about it. "W-What's up, T-Tahlia? Sorry I haven't said hi-- I wasn't trying to avoid you are anything. Um, you know what I have always wanted to use without sounding dumb? Yep this thing." He pointed at the intercom mic before walking over to it and proceeding to speak into it. "Attention, attention, all crew mates please report to the living area... Ha! I feel official, oh wait forgot to turn the mic off." Once finish with the intercom announcement, he turned back over to Tahlia. "Hey this might be super random, but have you wondered if we are all, you know... already dead. Not trying to be gloom and doom, we left that back on earth, but it's just a thought I had. That this is the afterlife, sometimes it felt like limbo to me. Just drifting off among the stars aimlessly, and there's no real destination, no Yaicarro or even Earth for that fact. But I actually don't believe that, just what happens when I think too much, or sometimes, too hard."

Benji smiled, "I'm happy you guys are here." Benji rambles, sometimes it was like he couldn't help it, because just as he said, he was happy. And for some reason joy and being talkative made a relative connection to the guy. "Maybe it'll keep the dark stuff out of my head." Benji felt safe around Tahlia, she could very well be their leader and Benji would not have any objection about it. Well really he would not be at conflict with any on the crew if they deem themselves as captain, but Tahlia specifically was someone he could trust his life with because she didn't seem like a bad person and she was really their means of security. "Oh, guess it's time for us to attend that meeting."

[TheMadAsshatter]

---

Tahlia Spade

---

After she left Owen to his own devices, Tahlia began to wonder if she was too hard on him. Not just now, but in general. She knew she had a tendency to generate some unfair preconceptions about people, and as irreverent as Owen could be, she recognized that he was ultimately here for a reason, and he wouldn't be a psychologist if he didn't at least sort of care about people. Maybe she would try to talk to him later and try to level with him.

Tahlia hadn't realized that she had paused in the hallway to ponder this. She looked around to make sure no one, especially Owen, had seen. Thankfully, Owen was already gone, and no one decided to sneak up on her in the meantime. She let out a small sigh and continued into the cockpit.

---

---

The Artemis: Cockpit

---

The door opened with a hiss, revealing the interior of the ship's cockpit. It wasn't very large, only having space for the pilot and two ancillary crewmembers on either side of the room. Not even a co-pilot. That seemed rather unconventional. Still, most passenger jets really only required a crew of 3 to operate properly, and this ship wasn't much larger than one. She went to the port-side panel and tapped on the display, bringing up a diagnostic screen of the ship's major systems. She played with the display a bit, seeing what she could bring up. Engine status, power output and consumption, reactor operation and temperature, life support, and so on. This screen seemed to be dedicated towards engineering. If she was reading it correctly, everything seemed to be working properly. All of the major systems, anyhow. There was probably some way to get to some of the subsystems, but she let it be for now. She was more interested in navigation.

She walked to the opposite side of the room and touched the Starboard display. This one had what she was looking for, though she had a harder time reading the information on this screen. She toyed with the display, hoping to get a more meaningful representation of the information displayed. She eventually found some information about the planet they were heading towards. Yaicarro. An Earth-like planet that's about 0.9 Earth masses and a little less than 6000 kilometers in radius. It has two small moons and an orbital period of 426 Earth days. It orbited at a distance of roughly 185 million kilometers from it's star, which was roughly the same size as the Sun. Atmospheric composition and density were estimated to be similar to Earth's, with a max deviation of 2% in regards to gas composition, with about 90% of Earth's atmospheric density. Estimated average temperature was 12 degrees Celsius, a little cooler than Earth.

There were other fields, like axial tilt, biological makeup, and rotational period, but they were all marked with "unknown." No doubt because it would be nearly impossible to detect such things from Earth. They'd have to find such things out for themselves when they got there.

She scrolled again to another display, which gave a pretty good idea as to where they were. The ship had left the Solar System roughly a year after launch, and was currently about 20 light years away from Earth. Their destination was about 4 light years away, with an estimated arrival time of about 25 years from now. That made the decision of turning back a lot easier, but it did mean that they would have to re-enter the cryo tubes at some point.

Tahlia turned away from the screen and looked at the pilot's seat. She took a couple of hesitant steps towards it, not knowing if she should see what she can do with it. It occurred to her that this was why they needed a pilot, but surely there were other, more qualified candidates than her. She crept up to the seat, which was positioned right in front of the window. There were several screens on either side of the chair, no doubt with abbreviated versions of what the other displays had to show. The window itself had a heads-up display installed, but all it showed was direction relative to orientation, along with the fact that the ship was on autopilot. She decided to sit down and further familiarize herself with the controls.

Even though they were in a completely different environment, it felt good to be in a pilot's seat again. Tahlia noticed that the main flight controls seemed to be modeled after most other aircraft, with a yoke in front of the pilot's seat. There was a throttle on the left, and a joystick on the right, along with rudder pedals. She wondered what the joystick was for. Finer movements? Possibly. She tapped one of the displays, which brought up the autopilot. It was set to turn off once the ship came within 500000 kilometers of the planet. Another display brought up flight information. She couldn't understand some of it, but the one thing that jumped at her was their cruising speed. 50000 kilometers per second.

The sense of scale hit her at that point, and for a moment she had to stop. She looked out the window, and for the first time since waking up she finally stopped herself long enough to really take it in. They were in space. A great big void of nothingness. It was a sobering experience, to see firsthand how vast it really was. Tahlia looked around the panels for a way to turn off the HUD and dim the screens. She found them soon enough, turning off as many distractions as she could so that she could get a better look at the stars. The room became almost completely dark, lit only by a few small buttons and the stars. The more Tahlia's eyes got adjusted to the dark, the more she could see. More stars faded into view, until eventually she could see the sky saturated with specks of light. Soon enough, she could even make out the galactic equator cutting through the upper right portion of her vision. She leaned back and relaxed herself, realizing that she had barely given herself any time to appreciate the view until just now. All she needed was a cup of coffee and some music and this moment would be perfect.

She decided to let go of whatever priorities she may have had and just let herself exist in the moment. She cleared her thoughts and let herself just stare into the void. She brought her legs up and crossed them, then brought her arm onto her leg, resting her head on her palm. She let out a small chuckle and let a smile crack on one side of her face. She had always been intrigued by space, but she never thought she would be lucky enough to be there. She wasn't sure if this could be considered luck, per-se, but she was here, regardless of the circumstances. She shifted her position one more time and closed her eyes, satisfied, in a weird way, at where she found herself.

---

Tahlia awoke as she heard the door open and Benji enter the cockpit. The lights and displays had since come back on, illuminating the cockpit as usual. She wondered how long she had been asleep for. It wasn't her intention, but the nap felt good regardless. She sat up and turned to look at Benji, who predictably went right into chatting away. Having just woken up, Tahlia was too groggy to really care or pay attention. At one point she stretched herself out and let out a yawn, which kinda woke her up. It was then that she noticed what Benji was saying. It was the first time she had seen him talking in such a way. She considered that maybe he actively tried to stay happy as opposed to it being something that just came naturally to him. Maybe she was reading too far into it, as usual.

"It's something that's occurred to me several times before. How can you know that anything is real? When you dream, do you know that it's not real?" she responded matter-of-factly. "I stopped giving a shit; it's not worth worrying about. I just focus on the present, regardless of whether it is or isn't real." She got out of the seat, making eye contact with Benji for the first time since he entered. "It's only natural to think like that sometimes." she finished, stretching one more time before heading to the door. "Let's get going, then."

[Eru Iluvatar]

---

Ailbeart Rend

---

Ailbeart Rend had made a friend when he was ten years old, one Frankie Lassiter, a boy five years his senior, yet the rich children often stayed in their cliques that took little notice of age differences. Frankie was wild-eyed and red-headed, with an appetite for destruction and a rebellious nature. He was disliked by most of the preppy rich kids who had their parents watch their every move, but Ailbeart and Frankie had things in common that brought them together - such as distant parents who thought money was a substitute for affection. Frankie took Ailbeart through side-doors in cinemas and showed him raunchy women in magazines. Their personalities differed, certainly, but Ailbeart was content to experience something of a hoodlum's life, as long as he always had a quiet house and a selection of books to return to in the evening. He was never particularly invested in any of the activities they performed, but there was some films that he gained a great interest in - James Bond films. Blockbusters where villains did as they pleased and controlled veritable criminal empires, and even Bond got what he wanted - but they all did it with firepower in their hand and a keen observation over everyone else in the room. Frankie only had the '83 instalments on video - Octopussy with Roger Moore and Never Say Never Again with Sean Connery. Ailbeart and Frankie would watch those films over and over, and the former gained a great affection for the commanding presence Bond or the villains took when they had a gun in their hand. Frankie got him a handgun, the Walther P5 - the same gun that was used prominently in both of the '83 films - for his birthday that year. It was one of Ailbeart's most prized possessions. Frankie Lassiter died in 1990 in a car accident, only sixteen years old - it was said that he was too short to reach the pedals and brake in time. But Ailbeart held on to that Walther P5. He held on to it tight.

This bunker or holding that they were being kept in was excessively small. Rend was used to grand, open spaces, entire rooms devoted to a single function - yet it seemed only a couple of corridors were needed to connect each room to each other, and each of the rooms were cramped with several different machines and screens with varying purposes. One would think Cryonautics would invest a little more towards the comfort of their project members. Feels like we're living in a damned futuristic caravan. Well, I'll make sure to get out of this hellhole - first chance I get. He had been stalking the metallic corridors, keeping away from the sound of voices and waiting for the cryotank storage area to be empty. His clothes - clean, pressed trousers, a rudimentary buttoned shirt and one of his old suit jackets - had first felt like garments composed of ice against his exposed body, but beads of sweat, formed from the warm, distasteful air and the hours of sneaking around had quickly changed that.

Earlier, he had waited outside one of the entrances to the cryotank room, one knee on the floor, being as quiet as he could be. It wasn't a practised skill of his, subterfuge. He was more likely to enter a room after a fanfare than to do so unnoticed. Still, the circumstance advised subtlety, at least for now. This was different than any challenge Ailbeart had ever faced before. His personality didn't take to it, but there were just five other people in this bunker: one whom he had already seen was unstable, another who had watched him like a hawk in their time together, one who was so involved with technology that he had no idea what to expect... This was the future, and until they could get back to the surface of the planet, he had to play it careful, gain allies where he could and be wary of all. He had shifted his weight onto his other knee, grunting audibly, when the unsettling young doctor's voice arose from within the cryotank room. Ailbeart held his breath and shuffled back slowly away from the window into the room. The woman who was already in there he was aware of, but she seemed invested in one of her machine friends and had been flirting with it for several minutes, from what Rend could deduce. The doctor was immediately unpredictable, though, and there was always the chance that a camera had Rend in its sights at every moment and the doctor was aware of him. What was his name...? Benjamin? No, Benji, that's the one, aye. The young man rambled on in trepidation and the girl seldom replied, or rather he did give her a chance to. Just listening to Benji speak was a task in itself, for he stuttered and the dynamics in his voice changed suddenly and often - his tone brought the ringing back into Rend's conscious mind, a subtle droning that swallowed his train of thought and made his nose and mouth twitch. He abandoned his task, rising to his feet slowly and tip-toeing back down the hallway. He could return later, and hopefully Benji would have departed.

Ailbeart had taken temporary solace in a bathroom further down the corridor. He had fumbled with the door until it had set itself to 'private' and a locking mechanism had made a sound in confirmation. The utilities in the room hadn't been spared from a technological overhaul either, unfortunately. Seems you can't even take a shit without interference now. The next one I take will probably be scanned and uploaded to some website where they rank the size of shits. He might have chuckled to himself, if the thought weren't borne out of a deep-set anger. He took a deep breath and strode in front of an oval shaped mirror. An un-groomed man appeared before him. This man had unkempt translucent grey strands instead of a head of hair. He had a nest of crow's feet and an audience full of rows of wrinkles. This man's cheeks were bereft of colour, and they sank down lazily. This man was a melting mockery of the man Ailbeart Rend should be. Water came thick and fast upon his initial hand movement towards the tap. It was cold and refreshing on his skin, but still it seemed a far cry from the quality of water he remembered. It was a more electric shade of blue, and needless to say Rend refrained from drinking any. He stepped back from the mirror and sink, hands raised and dripping, searching for some kind of towel. Then he spotted two hand-sized indents in the wall by the sink - luminescent and inviting, like a neon sign in front of a motel. Oh, you would like for me to put my hands in there, wouldn't you. You're just itching to prove your efficiency. Well... He lunged forward and chucked as much water as he could from his hands into the two hand-dryers. Of course, they didn't spark flames or lose power as Rend hoped they would. He smeared his damp hands across the pure white wall and adjusted his eye-patch quickly in front of the mirror before the door hissed open.

Ailbeart now had returned to the corner before the door to the cryotank room. He rejoiced in his mind as the room showed itself to be empty. Sparing not a moment, Rend dove into the room, almost crashing into the door as it slid open. He panicked for a second as his memory failed him and the six cryotanks surrounded him. God, damn it, which one of the bloody things was I in. He breathed in and immediately resorted to his simplest but most degrading method. Time was not on his side. He closed his eyes. A tiny blue flash. Rend jerked towards the one just to his left and felt the exterior of it, searching for some panel to pry open. He soon sighed again and shimmied round to the back of the tank, where of course there was a screen. He remembered vaguely some instructions from a scientist about a storage capability of the tank, what to press and how to open it. He jabbed his finger quite forcefully at the screen, scanning through each of the options and blindly choosing each one that had a word related to 'storage' or seemed like the right direction to go in. Cooling unit, respiration fail-safe, exterior casing - there! The scientist had stated, however many years ago, that the storage pods had not been prepared for proper use, but that long day Rend had spent in the bowels of the Cryonautics facility was a day when he got what he wanted. He had suffered through the compulsory videos and taken the injections, but his handgun had been cocked and aimed at someone the entire time. A hesitant release of air brought a panel within the tank open, and there it was - just as he had left it.

[beyond visions]

---

Benji Baker

---

The Living Area

---

"Um, Mr. Rend are you some kind of replacement?" Benji was not one to speak with ill intent, though that was blunt for him. "N-No, that was sort of mean, but you are the elephant in the room..." Still no good. He shifted uncomfortably against the leather couch, trying to sit up as straight as possible, but at the same time fidgeting. It was then that Benji regretted his choice of a starting topic. Yet he realized there come a time when someone would pop the question. How was he going to say it nicely? How was Benji going to say, 'Wait are you lost? Do you belong here? Why?', nicely. The doctor did not schedule the meeting in hopes to find an interrogation with the once wealthy famed businessman, though he feared now that he had set the tone for it. Benji's eyes ventured off to scan the room even if he had entered it maybe times, scattered glances helped the temptation to stare into a menacing glace. There before the crowd of a crew a flat screen holographic television, computed and stored within programing of various movies of the sorts, mainly classics just like the books in the library. It seemed that Cryonautics liked that type of thing, the classics- humanity's most ionic pieces of art. They had a point however, when preserving humanity up in the stars, why not bring the greatest parts of them up there. Well, that's debatable.

Perhaps Mr. Rend found no offense to Benji's pointing the obvious of claiming the businessman to be the stick in the mud. Benji did not dislike the man, though he never dislikes like anyone, but to Benji Mr. Rend is a mystery, everything about him. He is portrayed as a rich-selfish-cold-callous-person who spits on peasants. But Benji will not let camera lenses and TV screens determine his view of the man before meeting and interaction with him on his own. Although, Benji never understood the concept and reality of a wealthy lifestyle. The doctor very well knew that he would not have the capability to withstand the demands his generous urges. Yet, retreating back to the subject of Mr. Rend specifically, questioning the man directly was not Benji's original plan. But why discuss any other strategy to their situation without answers to a more closer concern.

Benji is a talkative guy, though he is was silent now. There was no rambling for him, he thought he would make it worse. But really, was any damage done? Maybe, maybe not, though the fact that he has to even wonder, terrifies him. Benji does not want to get on anyone's bad side. Human interaction should be treasured, that is the way he sees it. Why dismantle the irreplaceable? And since they are the last of humanity as they well know it, they should be working together, not against- like a team. Benji has actually thought of team names to call themselves if they ever needed one, you know like some type of super league. The name generating is probably just a product of boredom, but he will entertain the cute thought with someone after the meeting.

And while he was already in his head thinking due to the prolonged absence of sound, Tahlia's words echoed in his mind, they were like both orders and directions to follow a path of progress and focus. Much of this chapter of their lives revolve around the unknown. Yet if all the crew opted to ponder the next three years away, theorizing the truth, eventually they would dwindle down into breathless bodies, being a result of starvation. Focusing on the now, Tahlia snapped Benji into stop being so scattered brained and rambling constantly.

[Deserted]

---

Echo Montigawitz

---

Promptly there was produced a seam ripper, and thread by thread was popped. Hems were unrolled carefully. One two three... fifty. Each thread was carefully captured and placed into the reclamant for recycling in the grain sorter. Her uniform collar was gently unfolded, searching intently. There it was. Echo could hardly believe her eyes. All of this cloak and dagger was one thing to hear it discussed, but to actually witness it unfolding was something else entirely. She wondered just how many of the rest of the crew were in on this entire hush-hush information. Maybe all of them were in on it, and they were all being paranoid and stone silent on information that they all already knew.

Carefully, Echo drew out a small filament of graphene silica... nearly transparent, nearly indestructible, and nearly undetectable. This was to be the message in the bottle that the leadership of Project Renaissance was talking about. Information so volatile that they dared not digitize it for security purposes. Final instructions perhaps? An explanation of their situation? Maybe it was simply a farewell.

Echo jumped into her belongings and got to work. All of the components should have been provided. She simply needed to assemble, listen, and then dismantle the custom auditory device. She was about to assemble it when Benji’s request for a team meeting echoed through the ship. Her quarters were prepared for the quiet of the chamber and automatically lowered the volume so that it was not startling.

"Attention, attention, all crew mates please report to the living area... Ha! I feel official, oh wait forgot to turn the mic off."Really? We’re all going to jump at the beck and call of the crazy doctor? Just go along with it.
The components were stashed quickly and without any visible form of disruption to the tidiness of her chambers... as they were perfectly designed. The message was stored properly now that it had been collected. In a moment, nothing was out of place, and someone would be hard pressed to even know that clandestine operations had taken place.

She closed her closet only to notice the laser marks again.

“I’m going to need to replace those..." At first she took a moment to examine it, then in a flash she had removed the 6 screws and held the hatch under an arm. "...or not.”

She snatched up her explosive with her spare hand and proceeded to the common area with a smile on her lips and a spring in her step. Entering the room was only Benji, Tahlia, and Ailbeart Rend. She didn’t seem to notice as she plopped her spoils on the table. She had to do a double-take as she saw the final member of the crew. Her first reaction was shock, then confusion.Oh great! Of course they would allow politics and greed dictate their decisions. After all, what is mankind but the Devil's palankeen barror?
She finally seemed to settle on delight at his presence. She was far too sophisticated to rush him with an outstretched hand. However, her enthusiasm was difficult to conceal since she could not help but take a number of steps to approach him, and her hands seemed a little animated at the vision before her. Finally they settled on clasping in front of her to tether them and hold them steady (as she had been raised to do) and she almost curtsied before him. “Ailbeart Rend? Forgive me, but I must be out of sorts for having missed your presence on board. I must say that it is an honor to have you join us. My father has been thoroughly captivated by your guile and cunning, not to mention your irrefutable successes. I suspected that they would undoubtedly include some sort of leadership for our mission, but I am indeed surprised that they were able to gain the cooperation of a man of your caliber.”You sick minded, $@&s0

[Atrophy]

---

Owen Childs

---

Owen had been busy fussing with himself in the mirror. His hand gripped his jaw and turned his head side to side as he inspected for flaws. There were some, but none that were the result of freezer burn. He could feel the roughness of some stubble trying to come through and decided that he'd see if Benji knew where they hid the shaving cream. He smiled and hooked aside his lips, looking to see if any of the godforsaken cake had lodged itself in his teeth. When Benji's announcement came on he almost jumped out of his skin, thinking for a second that the Doc was right behind him. Shaking his head, Owen smoothed out his suit and headed towards the living area.

"All right, let's get this over with," he muttered to himself.

Doc had promised that they'd talk about what to do after everybody had been given some breathing room. Of course, Benji had been referring to whether they continued on their course or if they returned to Earth. If Owen had to pick he'd go with staying the course, as crazy as it sounded to him to inhabit a new world, it was better than finding out what happened to Earth. Right now there was a possibility that humanity was still around, having found a resolution for all of their problems, and thriving in a sickening-sweet utopia. There was a possibility that the planet was also nothing but dust. It was like Schrodinger's Cat; both options existed until they confirmed it. He reasoned that it was better to have hope of humanity’s existence than to confirm that it had been wiped out.

Yet that was not what Owen had come to talk about. He wanted to focus on the little things that were right in front of them instead of on the issues that were light years away. He wanted to talk about the old man. Owen had decided he would be cordial in his questioning, kind, unabrasive. He wouldn't point out that the old man being there jeopardized their ultimate goal of repopulation. He just wanted to know his story, learn why he had replaced Andrew. He wouldn't make accusations or point fingers or anything like that. They would just have a nice, simple conversation. Who knows, maybe the old man was alright? Once they figured that out, they could talk about all sorts of future plans for all he cared.

But then he heard Benji's voice echoing down the hallway, heard the name Rend, and knew that there would be nothing simple nor nice about the conversation that was about to come.

“I’m sorry, but are you joking, Echo?” said Owen, barging into the room. His eyes fell on the old man, on Rend, and the others could quickly see the hostility appear on his face as his lips drew tight and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. At his sides, his hands slowly balled into fists. Echo was right about one thing: they must’ve been out of sorts to not recognize Ailbeart Rend, perhaps one of the worst human beings to have ever been born. The man was a robber baron, the kind of mustache-twirling, cigar-stomping, leisure-suit-wearing jerk who made a living by climbing on the faces of others and tossing them to the side the moment they tried to question his ultimate supremacy.

Of course, Owen had never met the man. There were plenty of stories about one meeting a horrible person only to find out that they were actually a saint with a bad PR person. There were also plenty of stories where it then turned out that, in the end, they actually were even worse than what people said. Owen had no proof, but he knew that Rend was from the latter category. And Owen also had no proof, but he knew that Rend was not supposed to be there, and was now convincing himself that Rend somehow cheated his way into Andrew’s spot. Bribery, maybe. Rend seemed like the kind of person who would believe that everyone had their price, and he was certainly the kind of person who could actually afford it.

And this chick’s practically licking his boots and praising our long dead overseers for including him as a surprise special guest? He shot Echo a harsh glance. Isn’t she supposed to be a genius or something? Tahlia was right about her going batty.

“Think for a minute,” he spat, barely taking a second to catch his breath. His words came fast and heated with anger as he bore into Echo, trying to cut through her naivety. “Why would Cryonautics go through the process of screening all of us, making all of us interview with one another, go through behavioral tests together, all for the sake of making sure that we would be able to coexist together and restart humanity without tearing each other apart, only to then decide to completely screw all of that up? It doesn’t make sense to switch out somebody, not without running it by everybody else it’s just—it’s just—it’s fucking stupid.”

“Just think about it”, he continued, turning towards the others as if to appeal to them for help. “Andrew was supposed to be the third man. He was actually beneficial to the mission; he probably could’ve fixed Benji’s tank like that.” He snapped his fingers and then pointed one in accusation towards Rend. “Him being here is pointless. It’s beyond pointless; it’s insane. He’ll add leadership? Really? We’re not investing in stocks or creating a startup company—and, seriously, did none of you watch the news? He wasn’t a leader; he was a dictator, and a failing one at that. And, and, and another thing—”

Owen’s face was twisted with emotions; his neck tensed, his voice frantic and heated with anger. He was boiling over, and he knew it. He held his hand up, as if to call for the others to remain silent as he gathered his thoughts and tried to control his temper. He drew in air through gritted teeth and blew it out with a huff. As he started to speak again his voice was softer, barely over a whisper, yet lined with rage and malice and, beneath it all, a sense of defeat. He had wanted to approach this conversation calmly and coolly; so far, he had completely messed that up.

“It’s just not right, guys,” he said, his voice choked and strained. “It’s just not right that he’s here and Andrew’s dead. He, he probably scammed his way aboard or something, I don’t know, I just...I just know it’s not right, okay.” He glared at Rend through screwed, misty eyes. “You can’t prove me wrong, can you? Seriously, what were you thinking? That we would all be totally cool with some creep coming aboard and trying to screw up our future? Weren’t you content with already ruining our past?”

[TheMadAsshatter]

---

Tahlia Spade / Ailbeart Rend

---

Tahlia waited patiently for the others to filter into the kitchen after herself and Benji. She found a corner near the pathway leading back to the cockpit and propped herself against it, crossing her arms. Slowly the others filtered in, one by one. Her eyes met each of theirs in turn as they entered. Echo, Yazmin, and then the old man. The one she didn't recognize, aside from the occasional glance at the TV.

Her expression hardened as she began to try to reason why he was here. She recalled that she originally simply wrote it off as Cryonautics making some last-minute decision, but she now had reasoned that was a simple, stupid, and lazy explanation. Furthermore, the man that they were expecting to come on the trip with them, Andrew, was nowhere to be found; seemingly replaced by this man. But was he simply replaced? Her instincts told her no; that something was very awry; that someone would have mentioned something, or arranged to make it known somehow that there was a change of plans.

She mentally chastised herself for not taking such discrepancies more seriously when she first noticed them. This was beyond coincidence. Cryonautics had lied about one thing, sure, but Tahlia could see why they would want to withhold such information. This was different. The best case scenario was that this was simply sloppy planning, but the more Tahlia thought about it, the less likely that seemed. It seemed far more likely that somehow this man had pulled some strings, or otherwise smuggled himself onto this mission. She was about to begin interrogating him herself when Owen entered the room and made his presence known.

Predictably, Owen began tearing into Rend; saying all sorts of things about him that, to be honest, Tahlia never even really knew. Was this really the sort of man that Ailbert Rend really was? She knew he was rich, and powerful, but beyond that she had no idea what sort of a man he was. Owen's tone became increasingly confrontational and hostile, until he reached a point that he had to stop himself. She glanced back to Rend, seeing him grow increasingly anxious, having been challenged. No, actually, anxiety wasn't right. Anxiety is what it should have been. This was more annoyance; possibly even contempt.

Tahlia instinctively uncrossed her arms and shifted her posture. "Owen, knock it off!" she said, hoping to try to deescalate the situation. "It's clear that he isn't supposed to be here, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get an opportunity to defend himself." Not that she wasn't equally as suspicious, if not more so, of Rend's intentions, but she was more interested in ensuring that he didn't do anything rash. She slowly, and as nonchalantly as possible, closed the gap between herself and Rend. "So? Anything to say for yourself?"

Rend seemed pleased with this turn of events. "Well, it would seem I have some explaining to do," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "If I'm being honest, I thought it would be fitting for me to see how man would progress." He shot a look at Owen. "And I'll tell you what's not fair. The fact that I built an empire and had to fight just to be here! I have more than earned the right to see how Earth and man alike have evolved! And I must say, I'm not too impressed so far." He looked around the room, taking in all of the electronic and mechanical crutches of modern society. "All of this... machinery. What ever happened to doing things yourself? We've become lazy. Well, that's coming to a stop."

Tahlia scoffed. "Well, you're pretentious, I'll give you that. You remind me of a couple Lieutenants I had the displeasure of serving with."

"You're not in the army anymore, lass, but your place in the world hasn't changed. You're here for security, yeah? That doesn't make you a leader, so stand down."

"Holy shit, do you see where you are?" She was about to continue when she realized that he may not really know, but just when she was about to make the grand reveal, as it were, he continued on his rant. "I spent decades of hard work to get where I am, and I did it all without the help of these crutches, and..." He turned to glance at Yazmin, a look of disgust spreading across his face as his eyes took in her arm. "That. God, what a monstrosity."

As much as Tahlia was trying to maintain her cool, that struck a nerve with her. "Are you seriously going to try to demand respect from us like this!? Earth is dead! There are no empires anymore you old fuck! What is wrong with you!?" she yelled, taking a few anger-driven steps towards Rend.

Acting before thinking, and quite frankly tired of the woman's nagging, Rend decided to try to assert his authority for good. He pulled his Walther P-5 from his waistband and brought it around to Tahlia's head. Tahlia was faster though, and blocked his arm. The gun fired just a couple inches to the left of Tahlia's head. "GUN!" she yelled, making a grab for Rend's arm. He pulled it away and took a step back, trying to re-acquire his target. Tahlia jumped on him and finally got a hold of his arm, slamming it on the metal floor a couple of times in an effort to get his grip to release. The gun fired again at one point, but he never let go. Using her other arm, Tahlia ruthlessly punched him once in the throat and again in the face. She felt his nose break, and at that his grip on the pistol finally released.

Wasting no time, Tahlia grabbed the pistol and took several steps back, training the weapon on Rend the entire time. Her expression was stone cold, and her eyes fiery, a rage she had subdued for years returning to her. She was more than ready to kill this man right then and there. He had already done enough to endanger the mission, and as Owen had said a moment earlier, he had no use being here. He was as much a danger as he was dead weight. Keeping him alive was detrimental to the crew's best interest in every conceivable way. Tahlia wasn't going to have any of it. They had come too far already to have the mission be sabotaged by some batshit crazy old man who had no place on the ship. She squeezed the trigger.

*click*

The hammer dropped, but the gun didn't fire. Perplexed, Tahlia ejected the magazine. Empty. Really? Either Rend was incredibly incompetent, or he had used the gun prior to entering the cryo tanks. Even more reason not to keep him alive. He had killed before, he could do it again. She was still going to finish the job. She threw the pistol at Rend, hitting him square in the face, before walking over to him and pressing her elbow on his throat, fully intending to crush his trachea.