Appartment of Hans Fischer

Hans grins as he looks around the accommodation, this was definitely one of the better billets he had ever been assigned. Certainly better than anything he had been assigned on Earth.

His smile falters slightly as he remembers Earth.
Like most people he was aware when he took the posting that chances were he wouldn't be going back to earth once the Marco Polo was in space.

He didn't have that much back home in Dusseldorf or on Earth in generall...Still that magnitude of exactly how far they were from his homeplanet struck him.

Not to mention whatever is going on ABOARD the Marco Polo, damaged engines, strange illnesses and what looks to be an  actual murder.

Hans sighs and gets to work unpacking.
What he wouldn't do for a beer right now,a proper German beer.

He stands up,resolving to unpack properly later.
He goes to the small but functional bathroom and does his nightly ablutions.
He catches site of himself in the mirror and with a grimace remembers than he hasn't been to he gym in a while,he guffaws suddenly
"Not in the past hundred years at least!"

Yawning he sets his alarm and goes to sleep,hoping tommorow will have a few more answers and a little less questions.

M4RC0 P010 lets the alarm go off at 05.30, orders of the captain. The entire crew is to report to the gym at 06.00.

Hans snorts and for a moment he wonders where he is.
Then it all floods back in a rush and he sighs before rolling out of bed and stretching out a few kinks.

He has splashes some water in his face and runs a razor across his stubble.
He's walking out the door, pulling his overalls on when he hesitates for a moment and takes he battered medical bag with him as well.

Walking to the gym he fishes a slightly stale protein bar out of his pocket and crams it in his mouth.
Not as good as a old German fruhstuck but it'll tide me over...

Gym==>
This message was last edited by the player at 19:26, Tue 18 Apr 2017.

Hans enters his room and stands at the side of his bed.

He was sorely tempted to just splay across it and go to sleep,Hazmat suit still on...It had been a long day at wasn't even over yet.

Shaking himself he squats down and reaches under the bed,pulling out a battered case. A few moments working the combination lock affixed to the side opens the case and pulls out a revolver,Mateba Model 6.

He had scavenged it off a man who had died in a firefight during the last wars on earth before he joined the Marco Polo. That had been dirty work Hans remembered...Block by Block streetfighting in some shelled out city that Hans struggled to recall the name of.

He couldn't even remember if the man had been an enemy or ally or if it was Hans who had killed him but he had taken his gun anyway and it had kept him safe in times like these.

He does the necessary weapon checks by rote now,his hands skillfully checking the weapon is safe despite the sense of unease that settled over Hans. He didn't particularly like killing,it was a paradox to the medic,but Patterson had lept off that table and slashed a good chunk out of Fischer's arm and neither Him nor Drago knew how a man with absolutely no brain activity had done it.

It payed to be prepared at least...

Hans sighed and stowed the revolver into his medical bag along with a few rounds before walking to medical.