"Good luck!" Micaela called out after the strange retreating man, trying to look apologetic and likely failing.

With the stranger out of earshot she looked at the timer on her display. "Two minutes down, hundreds to go.

She settled in and waited for the data to show her something interesting.

Mike Schmidt is currently in his quarters Danny. Have a nice day.

"Do I scare you, miss Nieves?"
Ascott grins as he hops onto the pallets and sits next to Micaela. Its a crude smile, obviously by a man not used to smiling often. It is clear from his entire posture that this is a man hardened in combat, a man used to fighting for what he wants.
"Because I have no intention to really."
He looks at the drones going about their business.
"I do not mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

Micaela sighed deeply. "That's not an easy question to answer. Do you scare me? The person Tom Ascott does not. Major Tom Ascott does."

"There are a lot of reasons the previous expeditions didn't have a military command nucleus, and one of those reasons was to try to resist the chance that wherever we ended up we didn't end up with a society of the strong, by the strong, for the strong."

"But then ships started disappearing and we began to wonder if we needed the military after all. Fast forward 150 years and we're way off course, in a sabotaged ship, trying to figure out what was done to us. This is the perfect excuse for Captain Dorn to declare martial law for the safety of us all. And when he does..."

She was silent for a moment; the fact that she didn't say if weighing heavily in the air.

"I want to trust that the military machine is on our side. I would love nothing more than to follow orders, be part of the solution, and know that when the problem is in the past that we'll go back to a society for the people. But what if we don't? What if Captain Dorn is so concerned that something like this might happen again that he doesn't relinquish command? A dictatorship founded under the best of intentions is still a dictatorship."

"And I don't necessarily think that would be wrong. It's not like democracies don't screw things up as well. But in the latter, if something goes wrong I can be part of the solution. In the former, I'm helpless. I don't like being helpless Tom."

In light of that, her acts of rebellion made a lot more sense. She wasn't a smart ass to irritate or because she was too undisciplined to keep her inner monologue to herself. She rebelled, in whatever small and insignificant way she could to try to prove to herself that she wasn't helpless.

"I can't help but notices that you say 'when' he does, as if it is a given already." Ascott nods in understanding. "He has every reason indeed. But then we have the fact that we are out here, far away from everything we know, and most likely with no home planet to return to, even if we had a way to do so. Yeah, he has every reason to, but he hasn't. And he wont." The major fumbles around in his chest pocket, prying out a crumpled pack of smokes. As he lights one he offers the packet to Micaela.
"The captain has thought about it though. So have I. We discussed the option, and decided against it. It is not what this mission is about. And this still is our mission. We will find a planet to live on miss Nieves, and once we establish a colony, our standing orders are to see to a democratic government of said colony. A council of elders if you will, chosen by all members of this voyage. If the captain takes seat in that council it will be because people choose to have him there."
He blows some smoke circles, staring into the distance for a while.
"Why does me being a major scare you so much then? Bad experiences with the military?"

"I want to believe you." she said, waving away the cigarettes. "I want to be wrong, but as long as you have the guns you are going to scare me."


Micaela didn't respond for a long time. Tom was convinced that she wouldn't when she finally started talking, refusing to meet his gaze. "I was 14 when the Latin Summer started. Venezuela finally broke down into civil war and Brazil followed suit three months later. Everyone saw Venezuela coming, but Brazil... The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and when Brazil fell the whole damn continent felt it. Then the cartels in Columbia, Peru and Bolivia stepped up their game, seeing an opportunity. Argentina, where I'm from, weathered the storm, but it was a brutal couple of years. Even once the new governments had taken control, it would be a decade before the roving band of militants finally stopped terrorizing South America."

"Can you imagine what it was like to be a young woman growing up in that? Fear of the dark wasn't just a silly superstition. There were evils out there, waiting for their chance to strike. Or, in some cases, not waiting so much. I lost friends. I lost..." her voice cracked. "I lost my sister. They took her, and they... they did that to her for almost two weeks before they killed her. Men with power because they had guns and we didn't."

Micaela was starting to lose the fight to the tears that demanded release. "It's not fair to you or the captain or anyone else on this ship. It was ultimately the military and the police that put things right. Those of us that made it to the other side were stronger for it. But we didn't all make it."

"I am truely sorry for your loss," Ascott responded after a long silence.
"South america was hell. The regiment lost good men there fighting to help the people. My father lost some friends in Bolivia. He never quite became himself again."
The major then started to roll up one leg of his fatigues, reaching for a hidden holster on his lower leg. He handed Micaela a small .22 pistol.
"Here. That's one fear I can take away. Level the playing field. You won't have to fear any gun when you have one yourself. If anyone complains, tell them I gave it to you. I'll let Lt. Maxwell know too."

Tom hops off the pallets then, straightening his pants.
"You know, we're not all that different you and me. We both tend to cling to what we know. I'll let you get back to your work. Perhaps I'll see you around dinnertime in the mess hall."

Micaela's gaze followed Tom's hands as he reached for the small sidearm.

No, no, no, no... This is not what I want.

She accepted the weapon from him, the small machine weighing more heavily in her hands than it had any right to.

You don't understand. More guns isn't the solution. More guns just makes it worse. I don't want to be armed, I want to know I can trust the men and women that are.

The young woman finally looked the Major in the eyes after he straightened, the moisture encircling her eyes still casting sharp reflections.

He doesn't know that I know how to use this. He doesn't know I've killed. I cried for him and he gave me a gun.

"Yeah..." she said weakly, pulling the gun to her chest. "I'll see you around."

Hypocrite.

Micaela's drone perform admirably. Systematically the map out the cargo hold, providing Micaela with a detailed mapping of its layout and workings. She finds nothing out of the ordinary. However one of the drones reveals there is another hold beyond the six known. It does not however show any accesspoint, and cannot look past its outer walls.

Triumph and dread mixed in Micaela's gut as she looked at the data. She suspected there was some space on the ship that they weren't aware of, but a whole cargo hold? How the hell did someone keep that secret.

"Boss." she started, paging Jennifer. "We've got a confirmed blind spot near the cargo hold. I've got no obvious ingress or egress, and the size is significant, perhaps as large as a cargo hold. Walls are shielded as well, so I can't see what's inside."

As she finished she saw the non-urgent request for her assistance back in Security to break into the dataslate they found.

She reopened the connection. "On my way back now. Drones are on standby why I wait for further instructions. Might as well take a crack at that dataslate."

>> To: Ship Security

>> From: Medical Facilities

As soon as she entered, the imposing size of the cargo hold left Edel open-mouthed and stopped her in her tracks. She took a few steps in, stopping to rest her hands on a handrail that separated whoever was on that platform from emptiness. The utility bots moved around, downwards and upwards the intricate maze of shelves and storage units, but a few walking lone figures dwarfed by the sheer size of the complex made her truly realize what was before her eyes.  She turned to Raven and, wide eyed, mouthed 'holy shit', then turned back towards the overwhelming wide space of the hold, marveling at it for a few more moments. I have the feeling it will never get old, she thought with a smile.

Finally, she snapped out of it and promptly said: "Hey Marco! Could you tell us where are our storage units?"

"Woah" Raven followed suit in her stunned expression, "There must be all sorts of cool stuff stored away in here..."

She started mooching around the cargo in her immediate area looking for anything interestingly labeled...

She hums in agreement to Raven, as her mind was reviewing the possible reasons for her being ignored again by the ship's AI. Did I annoy him? Wait. Can you even annoy a software. She shook her head, as if the action would get rid of those thoughts for her.

As Edel walked to the crate her friend was inspecting, she noticed a sleek touchscreen terminal beside it, integrated in the wall. Curious, she approached it and started exploring the menus. Soon enough, the section for database searching popped up. She inputted her name and two surnames. A single result was returned. Perfect. After she got the needed directions, she turned to Raven. "Hey! You can insert your name here and it will tell you where your luggage is stored."

Your storage is in bay 3, row 18, level 7, Edel. Have a nice day.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Sun 27 Aug 2017.

Oh. I guess I was being paranoid after all. She shrugs. "Thank you Marco!"   Then, smiling to Raven: "Or you could just ask." She walked to a lift and pressed a button to call it. It immediately opened. She turned back to the other woman, waiting patiently for her.

Raven is studying a few storage lockers. Just simple regular gym lockers, each colonist had been assigned one to put personal belongings in. Hers is out there too, somewhere.

Seeing Raven absorbed in her surroundings, Edel shrugs and boards the lift. She expected to get lost in the huge maze, but the directions were very clear and easy to understand. A small terminal was at the bottom of the tall shelf. She typed in the coordinates that Marco gave her and watched as a utility bot integrated in the framework of the structure moved towards her belongings from a now dead planet. She fidgeted impatiently as the bot slowly moved towards her. As soon as the platform touched the floor, in a heartbeat she was already opening the crate, pulling out and opening her luggage. Clothes? Check. Violin? Check. Laptop.            Fuck.           Oh here it is, check. Lab stuff? Check. Books? Check. Uhhh, what's this?           Oh yeah my meds. Check. And misc stuff. Okay, perfect.

She stood up and started pulling on her shoulders a suitcase with shoulder straps. It took much more effort than she was willing to admit. She rested her head on the crate, panting. The sweat on the fabric of the jumpsuit created an unpleasant and itchy combination. Okay, change first. A quick look around confirmed that she was alone in this section, so she took out a pair of sweatpants, a light loose t-shirt and the first pair of underwear she found. She stripped down and quickly changed in her more comfortable clothing. She sighed in relief. With effort, she got the previous suitcase on her shoulders, pulled out the trolley handle of a larger suitcase and took with the other hand her violin's case. Slowly, she made her way to the entrance.

Raven looked up to find Edel had already wondered off to find her belongings.

Whoops got a bit lost in thought there

She looked around to find the machine that she vaguely remembered Edel mentioning to her. Just insert my name huh? She tapped her name in quickly and hit the return key.

Her name and the location of her belongings flashed up on screen.

Raven Millicent Haywood:
bay 12, row 18, level 7

She quickly repeated the location a few times in her head to make sure she had it and headed off towards Edel who was waiting at the lift for her.

"I won't be long!" She smiled.

She power walked off to find her locker and grabbed all off her belongings. She changed into her robe-like brown dress Mmmm, so much more comfortable There wasn't much else there. A small case with some other clothes and makeup. A small and currently empty secure box and a bag full of notebooks mostly written in.

She power walked back to Edel who was waiting for her. "Let's go!"
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

Panting, she snorted. "Either you are a very light traveller, or I'm a heavy one." After a pause she added: "I think it's the latter." After a few more paces, she noticed your clothing: "Hey, that dress suits you perfectly! Are you trying to make me look bad?" She said jokingly between huffs and puffs.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:22, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

Raven grinned. "Thanks!" She smiled. "I'm sure you look gorgeous too when you're all dressed up! .... Uhhh not that you're not already..." She paused awkwardly and changed the subject. "Yeah I'm a light traveller. This time at least I sold everything when we left earth and brought the basics and a plastic card full to the brim with credits so I can make my way and open up a new bar quite looking forward to the challenge!" She announced with a grin.

She sighed. "Your move was actually the wisest one. I just couldn't give up a lot of stuff. You have no idea of much I've paid and fought to bring all of this aboard." She stared in empty space, remembering the conversations with the boarding staff. "Yup, not my proudest moment." Edel groaned as she climbed a small step. "Oh god this was a huge mistake."

To: Barracks Section >>

"What the hell?" Rick cursed loudly as he looked at Jordan in disbelief. The soldier at their feet was clearly dead, the sports jock grinning as he kicked the trooper for good measure.
"That was not the plan!"

"What plan?" Colt replied with a shrug. "We woke up one hundred and fifteen years late. What plan could there possibly still be?"


"Shut up both of you, and disposed of that mess. You better hope I shut down Marco's eyes and ears in time or we will have security all over this place in no time!" Musashi snarled, her low-grav rifle slung over her shoulder.
"Then help me find the hatch. It has to be here somewhere!"

Thornby was still staring as Jordan grabbed the trooper's legs, dragging him to a large stack of crates marked 'Bedlinnen'. When he finally came to his senses the selfprovlaimed rockstar quickly hurried over to open the lid of the closest one. Together the men dropped the soldier inside, then got to work looking for their objective. Fast, methodical, like they had practiced countless times before.

"I've secured the access door to this part of the bay," Jordan smirked as he tossed aside the blowtorch he had used to weld the seams shut.
"Did you find a hatch yet?"

"Look mate," Thornby replied irritably, "We're not even sure its in this hold. It could be in any of the twelve cargo bays."

"It is here, or in four. These are the only ones above that hidden hangar bay. The access must be here. Keep looking!"

"I never should have agreed on this mission!" Thornby cursed. "I was doing fine building myself a nice musical career. Fething CIA arseholes and their blackmailing"

"As I recall you jumped on the chance to get off world buddy, so don't blame my employers!"

"Yeah well, it was better than the alternative wasn't it? At least they chose this method."

Jordan stopped the search, staring at Richard. A cold, hard stare, betraying only barely controlled rage. Rage and disgust.
"That is still an option," he spat. "Stop being a pussy, and do your job."

Jennifer soon reaches the entry Marco indicated for the cargo bay, out of view from the three people arguing inside as they are clearly looking for something. Flanked by her security staff and four marines, the men quickly take up position opposite the doors.
Unfortunately, it has been welded shut.