*Episode 1-1: Revelation

casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg casting.jpg

OOC Date: April 4, 2011
IC Date: January 9, 2128

Six years into a presumed 10 year voyage, critical members of the Genesis crew are awakened to respond to a discovery made by the ship's scanners.

Crew Stasis Hold - Deck Two
The EAV Genesis; 3.6 light-years from Epsilon Eridani.

The sickly green glow of the stasis chambers provides most of the light in the cavernous hold - they make enough light on their own, little else is really needed. Two hundred and twenty such chambers are scattered about the hold, containing the entirety of the crew when they're in stasis, each roughly the size of a phone booth and cylindrical in shape.

While the majority of a stasis chamber is made of metal and contains all of the sensitive equipment needed to sustain the person within, the front is made of a high grade plexiglass that is completely clear, allowing a view of the person inside. One would almost think that they stand upright except that their toes do not touch the ground, instead they float in a greenish liquid that accounts for the color of the light coming out of each unit. The people inside wear only the minimum necessary - a version of tighty whities for the men, and the same plus a halter style top for the women. Numerous tubes and wires are connected to them at points all over their bodies, pumping in and filtering out liquid similar to the kind they float in. One of the elements of stasis involves removing all of the blood from the body and replacing it with a synthetic liquid that preserves the internal organs and bones and prevents the body from aging. The liquid they float in does the same for the skin, muscles and hair. Wires connected to the head and various parts of the body stimulate the muscles and brain to prevent atrophy and to keep the person in a hypnotized state of peace.

In addition to the stasis chambers themselves, the hold also contains several control and monitoring stations that allow manual operation of the stasis system when crew members are awake. One door is all that the hold contains, and it leads out to the central corridor of Deck Two.

Consciousness comes slowly, starting at the back of the mind and bubbling up like pockets of air in molasses. It seems to take forever. The first sense to come alive is the general sense of awareness, of being present in the here and now - wherever and whenever that maybe. Realization dawns that the body is floating, and the faint prickles of wires disengage in from the body follows shortly after. Warmth begins to flood in as blood returns to the body and synthetic preservative is cycled out. Tubes retract save for those in the nose and mouth that still provide oxygen. Bubbling and hissing fill the ears and the feet gradually touch the bottom of the chamber, the liquid draining away, and soon feet and legs support the body, or at the very least attempt to. Some may find themselves quite shaky despite the regular stimulation of the muscles. When eyes finally open, the world is blurry and vague. One sensation overcomes everything else.

The hunger.

Such hunger.

Ramesh's knees hit the cool metal floor, followed almost immediately by his palms, his head hung forward and his hair wetly cascading in a curtain around his face. He coughs and chokes, and even retches once or twice, spitting bile and saliva onto the floor below.

"Hello, Captain," chimes the lightly soothing, disembodied female voice of Eve. "Do you require medical assistance?"

'No,' he wants to say, 'I require an entire elephant, medium rare.' Wants to, but does not. Cannot. He tries to speak and his stomach rebels, causing a fit of coughs and dry heaves. '/Such hunger/!' He shakes his head, then wonders absently if Eve can even see him do so. "No," he croaks. "Have we arrived?"

"Negative, Captain," Eve replies. "We are still 3.6 light years away from Epsilon Eridani."

"Then why have you awoken us?" Ramesh rocks back onto his knees, rubbing at his eyes and brushing his hair from his face. Glancing around, even through the blanket of fog that lingers over him, he can see that only certain personnel have been awoken. The majority of the crew remain in stasis.

"We have encountered a small, unmanned craft of Giver origin," Eve states. "It wishes to communicate."

Another pod whispers open across the chamber from the Captain. Commander Eisley does not try to get out immediately, but instead leans heavily against the back of her tube, relying upon it to support her as it has for all of this time. Her eyes screw tightly shut and her arms cross over her stomach, pose suggestive of either severe cramps or waves of nausea; both are probable, and are very likely reeling and rolling together. The exchange between Captain and AI is audible enough; Eve's voice resonates almost everywhere, and at this peculiar revelation she finally slits her eyes open. "…what?" It is very nearly a rhetorical question, and as no clarification is forthcoming she finally attempts to get out. Eisley does slightly better than Ramesh, but only just: she remains standing outside her tube for about fifteen seconds before sinking, almost in slow motion, to the deck. And there she curls up, looking ever so slightly green around the gills.

Pramiti has a sensation of floating, calm and serene. Rather like meditation. She likes it. She doesn't mind how long it takes. Eventually the sensation is broken by pinpricks, something going on around her body which she can't quite make out. The wires and tubes retract, and warmth floods into her body. The liquid in the chamber bubbles away and she falls to the ground. Heaving for a few moments, Lt.-Cmdr Pramiti Bharti groggily stays on the floor. Seems a bit easier right now. She shakes her head and tries to clear it, and heaves again.

Down the line of pods, another one is making a whispering hiss — such a gentle sound for such a rude awakening. This is Ben-Haim's pod, consciousness following the tide of sensation and sound in a disorienting jumble of foggy vision, wet skin, and high metallic taste in his mouth that he's unsure whether to call desperate hunger or sickening nausea. Grasping the edge of the pod to keep his knees from completely buckling, he coughs wetly once or twice, puffy hazel eyes squinting down the pod line. "What on…"

At first there is nothing. No dreams, no sensations. Just nothing. Dominic then feels the sensation of floating followed by the feeling of the goo being drained from the tube. He realizes that he is feeling sensations as he feels the weight on his feet. As he starts to try to support himself, he collapses against the side of his pod. Then the hunger hits. He doubles over in pain, gritting his teeth tightly as he fights through the pain that erupts from his gut. As the lid to his chamber is lifted, he falls to the ground on his hands and knees. He coughs heavily until he gags and starts to vomit up whatever he's got left inside him.

Jackson's awakening is equally disruptive as most of the rest of the crew — the hiss of his pod, the slick and sickly dampness of skin, the wet hair — very attractive way to wake up. He emerges from his stasis pod, entirely disoriented. A glazed-over expression on his face, it takes him a moment to register his surroundings as he stands there clutching at his stomach from the painful sensation of both extreme hunger and sickness. Fighting the urge to double over, he shudders and forces himself upright. Eyes blink. Try to focus. He takes a step forward, tries to speak, and ends up doubling over and hacking anyway.

Dr. St-Sirois comes out of the pod with no more aplomb than any of his comrades. His first step onto land in… years, anyway… is one of the most unsteady steps a man of his age has taken. One hand rubs the back of his head, the other sets on his stomach slowly. He blinks away more sleep than almost any human being has ever had to deal with, even as his brain, fogged with so much rust he's astonished it still works, slowly comes to terms with the symptoms, the expected one and the other. The middle-aged doctor struggles, somewhat, to get back to his feet, grabbing hte side of his stasis pod for support. Groggily, he just hears the last of Eve's status update filter through the loudspeaker. Gently, St-Sirois bangs the back of his head on his pod door.

It's cold this time of year, it feels as if he's been on this hunting trip forever. Stalking in the frost of the northern forests of his homeland, no amount of clothing, nor the fires he has built has made him feel warm though. Alive yes, functional yes. Warm no. And then Eyulf's eyes open… but his eyes were open… he saw it. The deer, it was there. But now he sees liquid draining around him, and warmth flowing back into his limbs. The sensation of his feet touching down and then his face smacking against the plexi-glass before him, recoiling in time for it to slide open, bobbing there before he tumbles forward, hands shooting out to catch himself. Stomach clenching and cramping so hard that for a moment he looks as if he were about to snap in two before he remembers to breath, gasping back hard enough to draw a half-wailing sound from his mouth as the air roars down his trachea. A few moments are spent, forehead pressed to the floor, one hand lightly curled into a fist, smacking against the ground, his entire body balled up. "Sikkert det ikke kan vaere noen guder… ikke a ha smerter som dette." instinctively speaking his native tongue.

"It seems that this is not an emergency situation," Captain Ramesh tells the rest of the awakened crew. "We get dressed, get food, then meet in the conference room." Before anyone has a chance to question or counter his orders, he's pushing to his feet and stumbling out of the stasis hold.

"Fresh uniforms have been laid out in your quarters," Eve tells the remaining crew. "The service robots in the dining hall are already preparing meals from your personal menus. They should be ready for you once you've dressed."

"…This is such bullshit," mutters the tiny Engineer as she slumps forward and curls up in a ball on the floor. There she lies on the floor, grumbling in Japanese and refusing to move. She's not moving until the world stops moving. Or until hunger gets the best of her. Whichever comes first. Never at the camper at the best of times, Mono is in a Seriously Bad Mood.

"…not an emergency situation." Commander Eisley echoes this from her spot on the deck, gaze lifting to glare rather balefully - hatefully - through stringy strands of wet hair at the ceiling where surely the disembodied voice of the ship resides, or at very least seems to come from. "Aye, Captain." She shoves against the deck a few moments later, twisting about to use the side of her pod for balance and for leverage, and then holds tightly to it once she is upright. She still looks queasy and, having not yet tossed six-plus years of cookies onto the floor, appears to be very seriously considering doing just that. It occurs to her only now that the pod next to hers isn't open yet, and she spends a few more moments peering through plexiglass and luminous green goop at the body within; this leads to a slow turn of her head, studying those who have been woken up as if taking a mental inventory. It is, perhaps, something to focus on other than the hunger and the nausea. Before very long, however, she also begins to pick her way toward the exit, steps both stiff and slow.

Dressed? Food? It takes far longer than normal for Ben-Haim to process all that, and to force the message down through a sluggish system to his feet. "Aye." He coughs again, knees wobbling as his shoulder bumps the edge of his pod, hand reaching out to rest against the wall. The other rubs fingers into his eyes, smearing a layer of sticky moisture off his lashes and onto his cheek. "Baruch Atah Adonai Elohei'nu melech haolam hamaavir shenah meeinai utenumah meafapai…" Muttered under his breath and barely audible, the prayer sounds ever so slightly ironic. Right foot, move. Left foot, move.

Dominic continues to lay on the ground, vomiting and trying to get the strength to stand. Once he has gathered enough strength, he pulls himself to his feet, looking around for the first time in a few years. He takes in the reports given to the Captain before he looks to the rest of the security department as they make it to their feet. He doesn't say anything to them, instead moving to a portable secure locker near their pods and unlocks the bio scan lock, swinging the doors open. Once the doors to the locker is open, Dominic and the members of the Security detail who have finished vomiting start to put on the armor that have been secured in the locker. "It's a non-emergency situation, boys and girls. Side arms only."

He echoes the Captain and XO's orders to the four others who have been awakened with him as he finishes putting his armor on. He takes out a side arm and starts to load it. Seeing as it's a non-emergency situation, it's all that's required. As he loads his weapon, his eyes scan the room in search of the Commander to give her the 'I told you so' look. Once his weapon is loaded, he slips it into his holster and secures it in place. He stands by the locker until all the security members are finished getting dressed. "Everyone go get chow and then report to the conference room as ordered. We'll all meet back in the Armory afterwards." He adds to the small security squad that has been awakened with him.

Hack. Hack. Hoooooooork. Jackson places a palm against the floor, the other hand balled up into a tight fist to cover his mouth. Another nauseating shudder follows the coughing fit, and he wipes his face groggily with the back of his hand. There's a moment where he just stares at the back of his hand, eyes attempting to focus. Is that blood? Ah, no. Snot. Back upright he goes, finally, nodding his head absently at the Captain's orders. He turns and starts shuffling toward the direction of his quarters; forgetting which direction that is, he frowns and does a full 360 before heading in the appropriate direction.

Sully hasn't started his voyage so well. First he nearly puked from explody heads and then was put in statis for six years only to be woken up and, yep, no more nearly about it. That is vomit, though what exactly he has to throw up isn't entire clear (and neither is the vomit for that matter). He mostly lies on the floor of the stasis holding area for a while, holding head and stomache while he rights himself enough to go to stage 2 of the waking process.

The French doctor does not join in the parade of those speaking their native tongues. Instead, St-Sirois just looks green. He tilts his head to the side as if trying to drain some more fluid out of his brain, knees shaking slightly as his mind slowly reasserts control over his body. Slowly, he achieves something like stability. "Well. Ladies. Gentlemen." The chief medical officer speaks rather slowly. "Food and clothes are a good idea, and if any of you are feeling too rotten after heaving eaten…" St-Sirois's voice trails off briefly, "…Eve will know where to find me."

Finaly lumbering to stand and stumble after half-crawling the first few feet, Eyulf grumbles, looking to Dominic through one eye, the other squinted near shut. "Do I have to use a gun?" leaning hard into the wall next to his own locked to begin pulling out his equipment, sliding his knife bandoliers and sheaths into place as he dresses.
Drawing his fingers across his brow, the norseman flicks a bit of remaining green goo from his face, sighing and clipping on the chest plates and the subsequent sheaths before he loads and holsters his side-arm. Hands dancing across his body, checking each and every blade 'loaded' into their straps, Eyulf gives a nod that he quickly regrets. Heading for the doors as ordered, tapping at his wrist comm to have a few specific items from his personel menu on the table, the man sighs and rubs at his temple once his hand is free.

Adesida emerged from her pod in as much the same state as the rest, and is slowly but surely collecting herself. Resting her head against the door of it to steady herself, inhaling deep and exhaling long, eyes closed as if that might ease the nausea of those first moments outside it. No words from her. She just concentrates on breathing, before finally opening he eyes. Blinking several times as if trying to dismiss a haze from them. And then she proceeds for the exit, following the crowd.

She may be small, but she is hungry! Hunger wins out and Mono slowly rises to her feet and rakes her dark brown hair back from her face so that she can see. "All the technology in the universe, and the best they can do for long distance travel is sticking you in a test tube of pond water? Whoever these fuckers are, haven't they ever heard of business class?" Shaking her head in disgust, she begins to pad her way - a bit wobbly, it should be noted - towards the doors. "And none of you better be looking at my ass."

The crew relocates…

Conference Room - Deck Three

A large room dominated by a massive table set with 25 chairs - twelve on each side and one at one end. All of the chairs that surround it are the same, plushly padded swivel chairs with moderately high backs and comfortable armrest except for the one at the far end, which has a higher back and bears a Captain's insignia. Built into the surface of the table is a computer console at each seat, allowing everyone present access to the ship's computers via the tablet like terminals that seamlessly integrate the tabletop. At the opposite and from the Captain's chair is a giant plasma screen that runs the width of the wall and can be used for presentations of all kinds. The lighting here is slightly dimmed, subdued, but bright enough to function easily.

There was little talk while everyone ate, the lingering side effects of stasis combined with ravenous hunger made small talk rather difficult. After dressing and eating, those of the crew that had been awakened gather in the conference room to receive the message from the nearby craft. The Captain sits at the head of the table, at one end of the conference room, his XO seated at his left hand side. At the opposite end of the room is a massive plasma screen.

"Eve," Captain Ramesh calls out, "I'm ready to open communication."

"There is only a prerecorded message, Captain, along with a data upload. Shall I put the message on screen?"

"Interesting. Yes, Eve. Please do."

And there it is: humanity's first look at an alien race.

The being on the screen resembles a mollusk much more than a man, like some strange hybrid of snail and hermit crab. Vaguely humanoid in its general form, a slightly bulbous head rests atop a long, slender neck that cranes forward like a hunchback. Completely smooth all over, the head and neck appear faintly leathery but moist, a sickly pale gray yellow in color. The head is dominated by a diamond shaped mouth that consists of multiple layers of lips and teeth, the outermost layer sporting four tusk-like hooks at the four cardinal points, all curled inward like pincers so that they may meet at the center. There are no other features upon the face or head, though two elongated eye stalks ending in shiny black spheres stand up and out from the upper third of the head and move independently of each other. The creature is, as mentioned, hunched forward, due in large part to the black chitinous shell it carries on its back. For this reason, the torso - such as it may have one - is difficult to see. Three pairs of crab-like legs extend out from the shell, each one ending in something vaguely resembling hands, four small digits similar to the tusks of its mouth capable of manipulating objects. What lies below the waist - if it has a waist - cannot be seen thanks to the computer terminal the creature is currently manning as it faces the camera. Is it like a snail, with a single pseudopod foot? Does it have legs like a crab, or even a man? It's impossible to tell.

It begins to speak, or at least its version of speaking - an ear piercing series of whistles and shrieks punctuated by the rapid clacking of its four pronged tusks. The sound level is quickly dialed down and Eve begins to translate.

Eisley looks rather less green and somewhat less ill. It's possible that a shower and light meal did her wonders; time to wake up and get real blood flowing instead of nanogoop through the organs may have aided with that whole nasty nausea thing. She finds her seat beside the Captain - to the left? really? - and leans back there just a touch, elbows settling on the arms of the chair, hands drawing together to fold. Only her index fingers remain up, steepled. One brow lifts as Eve begins her little speech, and the other soon joins it in an expression of bewildered curiosity as the alien - the Giver, the creature responsible for the Genesis itself - appears on screen for the first time in recorded history. Her mouth opens, but there are simply no words for that. Thus, the XO is left staring - even gaping slightly - at the enormous image.

A brief pause, broken up by several blinks as Mono stares at the screen. For once in her life, she's speechless. She simply stares at the thing on display, trying to wrap her head around the idea that this is what gave them all of the technology that made the ship possible. "…It's a fucking mollusk," she murmurs incredulously. "The highly intelligent, advanced alien species that's centuries evolved beyond our own are fucking snails. I think I will shoot myself in shame, now."

Pramiti leans back in her seat, examining the picture. You can learn a lot about a species from its appearance, obviously. "We'll have to have this analyzed to see what we can learn about its world, evolution, likely biological quirks. We can probably conjecture a fair deal about its native environment." She glances towards Mono. "It makes sense. They were some of the first things to evolve on our world. Mollusca appeared 542 million years ago."

At the shrieking of the alien's speech, Eyulf manages heroically to only grip the table edge and squint one eye shut before the audio is dialed down. His one open eye does boggle slightly at the sight of the alien, head tilting to the side until Mono starts running her gob… about the creature, "What'd you expect, Whitley Striber grey aliens? Or little green men springing their trap to shove glittering silvery tools up your backside?"

Composed, clean, dressed, and full, Jackson looks quite a bit less peckish now that he's in the conference room. He sits, hands clasped on the table in front of him, quiet and observant as he waits for the meeting to officially be called to order. Once the creature on the screen appears, he turns in that direction … attention quite obviously perked, eyes widening inquisitively as he waits for the translation. Though reserved, there's an expression of quiet wonder playing upon his features.

Like the others, Ben-Haim was not chatty during their unexpected breakfast. Properly dressed now and eyes still slightly bloodshot from all the rubbing, the enlisted pilot's taken a seat far down from the officers. His left hand keeps fidgeting, ring finger picking the cuticle of his thumb ragged with subtle determination as the picture comes onscreen. "What the fuck…" The breathed words make a distinct clash with his clipped accent.
Dominic sits at the table, a smile on his face and the smell of cigarette smoke from the man tells that he's finally managed to have a cigarette. As the image appears on the screen, his eyes widen in surprise at the appearance of the being. He's too stunned to hear anything anyone else says. He remains silent as the creature speaks, wincing at the tone until it's dialed down, waiting for the translation to come through.

Dr. St-Sirois still looks awful, even in a neatly pressed uniform and with a meal in him. He's got a five-o'clock shadow on the go and his face is almost waxen. But he manages to ease himself into his chair down the table with a minimum of difficulty. Moreover, when the Giver appears on screen, when humanity gets its first look at extra-terrestrial life… …well, St-Sirois leans forward. Far from looking haggard at that moment, he looks like a kid who's just been given the best present ever.

Sully is freshly showered, fed, and put on this particular uniform for possibly the first time ever, and still he looks like he just got hit by a bus. Poor guy, he's nursing some bottle of calky syrup that the doc gave him to settle his stomache, swigging it chocolate milk, horrible, horrible, blue chocolate milk. Then the Crab People begin to shriek and hiss. For all the fact that he seems to still have a headache what from the cringing and the squinting, he nods a few times as the message is played back for them.

"Fascinating," whispers Ramesh, staring at the screen in open wonder as he looks upon an alien race for the first time. Eve translates the message.

"Greetings, Humanity. We are the beings you have come to call Givers. While this name is an accurate description, the name that we call ourselves best translates in your English language as Mist Dwellers. As we come from what you call the Perseus Arm of the galaxy, you may wish to call us Perseans."

"Several of your decades ago, we became hunted by a race best described as Devourers, a race of hunters that feed only on the races they hunt, or themselves. Though our technology was vastly superior, their sheer numbers and brutal tactics overwhelmed us. On the brink of extinction, we made them an offer: in return for sparing the last of us, we would give them the location of an overpopulated planet, its resources being squandered by the pettiness of the dominant species, seemingly bent on self annihilation. A planet that would feed them for a long time to come."

"That planet was your Earth."

Another blink from the small Engineer. "Oh no it didn't," she growls under her breath, her gaze on the screen becoming sharp, malicious. Her hands on the table ball into fists. She's a bright girl, she can connect the dots. "Beware of mollusks bearing gifts."

Eyulf sits bolt upright at the last portion what the snail-monster has to say. Jaw dropping again, hands clenching in his lap. "What?" leaning forward now, pupils like little pin pricks. "Why the hell are they waking us up now then? When we're only six years away and not ten!?"

"Well, they seem to be similiar enough to humans psychologically, at least." Pramiti says dryly. She closes her eyes for a moment and breathes in and out, slowly. "We should wait and hear the rest."

Jackson's eyes narrow slightly, and he leans forward on his elbows in order to listen a little more intently to the translation. There's a troubled expression on his features at the message conveyed, yet he remains silent. Seems he's more interested in listening than providing commentary of his own.

This is not a pleasant message. The XO leans forward in her chair, hands coming to rest against the very edge of the table. There they grip, her hold tightening until her knuckles turn white as the recorded message is spilled out, the bad news delivered in cold, impersonal alien-to-robot voice. Her face goes white too - or gray, kind of - though she looks less ill this time and more like she got knifed in the stomach: surprise! She looks at the Captain, then across and down the table at Dominic, eyes narrowing to angry blue slits. He is not the focus of this anger, merely the recipient, and the best thing to focus her dagger glare on.

The cold that Ben-Haim felt when that pod opened was nothing compared to this moment. The feeling of warm food is his gut is gone, replaced by the sensation of just having drunk a gallon of icy slurry. A tiny drop of blood wells up on his thumb where his fingernail finally picks through the skin but he hardly notices, eyes fixed on the screen and teeth held together nearly tightly enough to jar one loose.

Dominic listens to the translation, but shows little change in his expression except that he looks very serious now. The shower he took didn't wake him up enough for the news he just got. His eyes look to Eyulf as he speaks, bringing up a finger to his lips to signal to hold his questions. He feels the daggers that the Commander send his way, returning her look with a slight nod of his head. He mouths to her, "Told you." While he may not have known this situation was going to happen, he knew that something would happen. He shakes his head slightly before he returns his gaze back up to the screen. "I think I need a smoke." He says out loud, mostly to himself.

Adesida is but a face in crowd that's gathered since their release from the pods. Looking better now that she's eaten and taken a chance to shower. She's just in time for that not-so-welcoming message from the aliens, though. For the moment all she can do is listen with a mixture of horror - at the prospect of human cattle - and more than a trace of curiosity to finally see the faces of their alien benefactors. Albeit not so pretty or kind ones.

St-Sirois could hardly become any more pale; that is physiologically impossible. Yet his expression of child-like wonder soon sinks to something approaching befuddlement. Then he slips down in his chair as the alien continues to speak, of devourers and redirecting them to his home… a home that he spent much of his adult life destroying, but a home all the same…

For once, the doctor is quite silent.
Did I say that the communications expert was nodding along with the message before? Hmm, that is troubling, but well he was. There is something oddly non-challant about his reaction to the news that everyone on Earth might already be dead having been betrayed by the gift of crabs that didn't come after an ill advised spring break fling. He still squints and grimaces from that headache of his and sips his blue milk, but all he says is "Well that blows."

Ramesh lifts his hand to silence Mono and Eyulf, is now intense gaze fixed sharply on the screen. It's hard to read exactly what his reaction to this is, but it's clear he wants to hear more before he says anything.

"We are not a cruel or merciless species. We did what we did only to survive. Our guilt ate away at us from the very moment we made the decision, and so we sent you a signal with the secrets of technology that would unlock your potential and allow you to escape your planet before the Devourers come. By our estimations, you should've had the time and resources to build a dozen or more of these ships, thus sparing at least ten million of your people and relocating them to another world. Ten million is but a fraction of your population, but it is more than enough to carry on your species and rebuild. By the time you receive this message, the Devourers will in all likelihood have arrived in your solar system and destroyed your civilization. We advise you not to go back. With all of our technology we were unable to hold them at bay. You stand even less of a chance. Returning now will only risk your destruction and defeat the purpose of the technology we have given you - to survive and carry on your species."

"Wait, what? Eve, pause message." Ramesh looks at the Engineer, the one with the most intimate knowledge of the ship. "We are only carrying one hundred thousand. What does it mean when it says that a dozen ships can carry over ten million?"

At first, Mono obeys the Captain's call for silence, but when the creature on the screen mentions the expected size of their nonexistent fleet and number of people in it should be carrying, she pounds the table with her fists and bolts upright from her chair. "Those shortsighted, arrogant motherfuckers! It's their own fucking fault!" She looks to the Captain. "You remember when they gave us the data chips with all of the information on the ship? The shit they left out I could just about fill the entire cargo hold with. Starting with the fact that not only did they only build one, but they built it at one tenth scale." Her eyes narrow to slits and she clenches her teeth. "We're SUPPOSED to be carrying one million people, not one hundred thousand."

Pramiti glances towards the others. "I'd suggest we take a look at the data dump and see if they gave us, or are about to give us, more information on the devourers. We don't know for sure that our civilization is dead, and we don't really know the psychological or physical capacities of these beings. We don't even know if they are telling the truth. In any case, a day or two won't make a difference to our species."

Daggers. Daaaaaggers. Probably only because right now Eisley cannot bring herself to look at the screen. As the recorded alien message continues to play her fingers curl more, grip lost on the table, which has the effect of driving her nails into her palms. She positively seethes there, not quite breathing, but almost visibly vibrating. Mono's outburst is the first thing to pull her attention elsewhere, and she does precious little to silence the engineer. Instead she scowls, adding her own thought. "…Mansfield." It helps to have a name to pin the hate on, and the much-loathed Secretary is as good a target as any for this. This is all she says, though. More is, at the moment, tightly restrained.

"/Fuck/ this!" Ben-Haim's naturally soft voice is not quite so soft for that sudden outburst. The pilot half-stands, the backs of his knees giving his chair a vicious bump. "Don't go back? This is fucking madness. For all we know, they—" His hand makes an open-palmed jab towards the screen. "…lured us off to take what was there for themselves."

Dominic can't do anything but sit back in his seat with a stunned look on his face. He shakes his head slowly as he watches the screen until it is paused. He sits and thinks to himself as the others start to speak their outbursts. He looks to each person as they speak, considering their offers before he looks to Ben. "Do we even take that chance?" He adds after the other man finishes speaking.

Jackson's eyes are cast downward for a brief moment, and for his reservation there's still a bit of paleness in his expression — a bit of pain there, despite it not being anything overt. His eyes are lifted, and he refocuses on the screen. There's a slow shake of his head, his lips parting even though no sound actually comes from his lips. He glances over toward the Captain, then his eyes follow toward the Engineer. His hands unclasp, then reclasp again. Oddly, he remains silent. Thoughtful. Worried, but not making an outburst or vocalizing.

"Ten million…?" Adesida can only immediately repeat that number in near shock, accompanied by an incredulous snort. They've come up far short of that.

Eyulf remains seated, shoulders rigid, eyes staring at the screen, his knuckles cracking as he continues to grip at the table. Jaw working back and forth as he just sort of vibrates in his seat, breath coming in shallow puffs.

"SILENCE!" Captain Ramesh is not one known for raising his voice, and he's hardly an imposing or intimidating figure. Just the very fact that he felt the need to yell is, he hopes, enough to silence the gathered crew. "I will listen to complaints and strategy suggestions once the message is completed. For now, I want silence. The next person to speak out is to be escorted to their quarters by security and held their until Dr. Jackson can evaluate their mental state. Am I understood?" He looks up and down the table for any dissent.

For her part, Mono nods tersely and sits back down. Apparently she doesn't want to be sent to her room.

"Or else what, sir?" Ben-Haim's voice is sharper than it perhaps should be to someone that outranks him. "Continue on to some fucking castle in the sky that for all we know is a deathtrap to be rid of—…" He's in the middle of that when Ramesh speaks, and for a tense moment it really does seem like he might just push on. But at the last second he puts his teeth together, lips following a moment after, and forces breath through his nose as he sits back down on the edge of his abused chair.

St-Sirois watches the message, very calmly. Very, very calmly. Many of those in this room will recognize that expression from when St-Sirois informed the Secretary of the Navy that he had no intention of being tracked on his leave. It is a calmness calculated so as to be infuriating. Just the slightest quiver of a pale cheek betrays the emotions surging within. The doctor turns to the captain, fixes his gaze on Ramesh for a time, and nods. Quite silently.

Eisley keeps her quiet, more or less, possibly drawing from Ramesh's outburst and using it to fuel her silence. At very least it gives her a good reason to continue to be quiet. However, that sharp stare gets turned on the pilot as Ben-Haim starts off on his tirade and it lingers there even as quiet falls across the rest of the room. Alas for him, he gives her something else to try and kill with her eyes, though fortunately she has not yet mastered that particular tactic. She inhales. She exhales. She slowly uncurls her hands, then looks slowly down at her palms.

Sully winces at the Captain's yelling, it might have hurt his head more than the screechy alien tongue did, "Ooowww, the yelling" he groans in complaint but hushes up after that with really no need for extra head shrinkage what with the shrinkage already coming his way for his apparent lack of emotion over the potential genocide of humankind.

Pramiti nods silently to the captain.

Ben-Haim's eyes flicker to Sully. He interjects under his breath, tense but forcing reserve once again. "…sorry."
Dominic looks to Ben as he speaks to him and then immediately looks to the Captain as he yells. He doesn't say anything, just simply nods his head in response to the Captain's question, finally returning to the screen, waiting for the rest of the message to play.

Adesida displays not outer calm, but her shock is of the silent, stunned variety, so she has no real trouble obeying Rashesh's directive to keep quiet. Her dark eyes go from the captain to the alien. She steels herself as if preparing for it to get worse. Somehow. Bad as it's been thus far.

Jackson's eyes return silently to the screen, his eyes closing briefly at the yelling before refocusing. He wasn't talking before, and he doesn't start now. He simply watches.

Ramesh fixes his gaze on Ben-Haim, then watches him in silence when the pilot stops and reclaims his seat. Satisfied that there is no further outburst coming, the Captain folds his arms and sinks back in his chair. "Eve, resume message."

"There is nothing that we can say or do to change what we have done, and our agreement with the Devourers was broken despite our compliance. By the time you receive this message it is most likely that we as a species will be extinct. We hope that our cloaking technology and faster than light travel give us the edge to outrun our predators and hide from them, but we have run several times before and they always find us. We share with you and your fleet of colony ships the technology to cloak your movement as well as the ability to travel faster than light. The two, however, are mutually exclusive. You cannot do one while doing the other."

"Also know this: there are others in this galaxy, and while scanning all of the stars for signs of movement is impossible, nothing in the natural order of the universe moves faster than light. By using this technology, you'll become a beacon to the rest of the galaxy, announcing your presence when otherwise you may be ignored. In the simplest terms, you will be noticed. All craft that move faster than light are easily detected by the technologies of a number of species indigenous to this galaxy. The Devourers are among them."

Mono continues to listen in silence, though her expression burns with a barely controlled rage.

St-Sirois grips the edge of the conference table with his left hand. Very slowly, his knuckles begin to go white.

Ben-Haim switches from picking at his thumb to chewing on the side of the nail instead. Which might be a good thing; the physical plug in his mouth might be the only barrier to its running off again.

Maintaining a silent reserve now, Eyulf's right hand flexes spasmodically the left still gripping the table, the blood being pressed from it with his grip. He takes one long, deep breath, holding it for a moment, and then releasing in a slow, controlled fashion. Becoming like a statue as he watches to see how much more of these glorious message is left.

Eisley folds her hands again, this time with her wrists set against the edge of the table. There is a failure of fingers to tangle together though: they steeple instead, pressing together hard enough to whiten at the tips. She looks at Ramesh once more, then slowly turns her attention back to the screen. Her customary steely neutrality is embraced - or raised up like a shield, allowing her to bury what little emotion showed through behind a wall of cold hostility.

Dominic takes smooth deep breaths as the message continues. At the mentioning of the technologies and the risks that come with them, his mind starts to get to work, evaluating all the newly acquired technologies. His eyes does not move from the screen, just continues to process the new information as it is revealed. Any ideas and suggestions, he sets aside for the proper time to reveal them to the XO and Captain.

'Devourers…' Adesida makes no sound, but her mouth moves in a copy of the name the alien creature gives to its enemy. She can't suppress a shudder, hands clasping together so her knuckles pale. Like so many others, it seems a sensation to distract from the terrible words.

Pramiti continues to listen, staring at the image all the while, studying it and its surroundings.

Jackson isn't prone to fidget, though his hands do finally unclasp and he reaches to cover his mouth with his palm. His eyes are cast downward toward the table once more. Quiet, thoughtful, and reserved still.

Ramesh listens, stone silent and stock still. His expression is grim.

"Be warned that the Devourers may become aware of your existence should your species give you up. It is possible that the planet you call New Eden has been discovered by them, and that they may pursue you. We find the likelihood of chasing a few million beings across solar systems to be slim for them, especially in light of the fact that they have access to the three billion on your planet. Everything we know about them suggests that it would not be worth their effort, but you should keep this in mind before continuing on your journey."

"Should you decide to seek other options, know that there are two other planets in your immediate area that you could choose to colonize. The second planet of Alpha Centauri is in the early stages of the development of life. It is a warm and humid planet lacking all but the most basic of plant and animal life - moss, ferns, and primitive, rudimentary organisms. You will find protein to be lacking outside of algae and small creatures, and no fruit or vegetable bearing plants, but the plants that you carry with you will thrive and your farms will flourish. The fourth planet around Tau Ceti is further along in its development, featuring a wide variety of plant and animal life, but its atmosphere is volatile and extreme storms are common making it unsafe to live anywhere on the surface outside of caverns. The wildlife may also be more dangerous and hostile than you are used to."

"A third option is available. A wormhole exists within this vicinity, but all of our efforts to explore it have failed. No probe or ship we have sent through has ever returned or sent a signal back from the other side. What lies beyond is unknown, but if you truly seek to start anew, it may be your best option. If we have been unable to successfully explore the other end of the wormhole, then it is certain that the Devourers have not done so. What awaits you on the other side, however, could be worse."

"We give you the last secrets of our technology as well as all of our knowledge of the surrounding stars and the races that we have encountered. We have done your species a terrible wrong, but we hope that your fleet can find a new world to call home and rebuild a civilization that does not squander and destroy it the way that your kind nearly did its first home world. May fortune be with you."

The video goes black.

"Before we engage in any discussion," the Captain states quietly, "I am initiating a few protocols. Eve, as of this moment any order that I, the Commander or the First Lieutenant give may be placed on a temporary, 24 hour hold at the discretion of the ship's psychiatrist if he feels that it is not being made due consideration. Likewise, he is now granted the authority to declare anyone on this ship unfit for duty if they become emotionally or psychologically compromised. Also, I want you to send a message to Earth, forwarding this message in its entirety."

"Yes, Captain," Eve answers. "Message send. It will be approximately two days before a ping is received."

Pramiti pauses. "Captain, pardon me for speaking before you have initiated discussions, but you may want to edit off that last bit before Eve finishes sending it. If we are the last humans alive, your giving away the locations of the three most valuable sites available to us."

Eyulf is fully upright, "Captain, request you belay that order to Eve! Sending a transmission like that, with the information within is like asking for us to have all options cut - " As Pramiti pipes in he goes quiet, nodding in agreement with her.

Sully sighs and then takes another sip of his blue milk, "Bully" he says and then let out a little, blue milk scented burp. He smacks his lips a few times and swishes his tongue around his mouth, "Well, let me know if you need help translating any of that transmission" he says, looking at Mono with the apparent expectation that she's going to be working on it first or at least that he considers her work on it most important. Then he turns like he is about to head towards the door, what he dismissed? No he was not.

Eisley breathes. This is about all the XO does, just now, given that Ramesh's order for silence still holds and, at the moment, she may not trust her capacity for civil speech. When the message ends and other instructions are given her eyes close; only to snap back open, maybe to speak on the same matter that others beat her to. She exhales and leans back about two degrees as if wanting to relax but finding herself utterly unable to. Fingertips tap together in silent punctuation of this, one note of nothingness before her attention begins to roam, thus to study each member of the awakened crew in turn.

St-Sirois is still quite calm, quite silent. When he speaks, his Lorraine accent makes a rare appearance. He sounds quite upper-class, apart from the just-audible tremble in each word.

"The fact that they had condemned our planet to death would have been more useful when the Earth Alliance was debating how many ships to build," the doctor says, voice quiet.

Dominic listens to the rest of the message before he looks to the Captain after the screen goes black. As the other start to protest their statements, he nods in agreement before he looks back to the Captain. "Sir, with all due respect, I have to agree. At least let Mono encrypt the message first before it can be sent. It would be best not to give away our position before it is tactically sound to do so." He looks to Mono as he finishes his input.

Jackson's eyes widen just slightly at the remark from the Captain, but he is otherwise unresponsive save for a barely discernible nod. He sits up just a bit straighter, glancing to Pramiti and nodding his head again. He glances to the Captain, remarking quietly, "I would have to concur, Captain." He leans back slightly in his chair, clasping his hands again on his chest. "If I may speak my opinion freely, I would say that two days is not a significant delay to receive a transmission back and see if this information is true. Giving away our destination may be detrimental." Sounds like he's just joining the chorus at this point.

A coppery tang taste blooms on Ben-Haim's tongue and he removes the side of his thumb from his mouth, a thin rivulet of red running down his skin. He rubs the back of his hand gently against his lip to be rid of the small smear of blood, his eyes flickering from face to face as people start to talk. His jaw is visibly tense.

Adesida just tries breathing deeply in and out again, looking nearly more ill than when she emerged from stasis. There's nothing immediately from her, either, as she processes that awful message. Or attempts to. The possible mass-eating of one's race by monster aliens is a lot to wrap one's head around.


"I took the liberty of removing the last part of the message, Captain," Eve replies before he can even begin, "In expectation of such an order. I apologize for my insubordination, but I am programmed to protect this ship and its mission above all else, and such information violates my directives."

Ramesh lifts a hand and rubs at his face, shaking his head and sighing. "I thank you, Eve. You're right to do so. This is exactly why I think it's best that the ship's psychiatrist have a greater hand and closer eye in our activities." He drops his hand and looks at the assembled group. "We will be awake for at least three months, regardless of what we do. I agree that seeing if we get a reply from earth is our top priority. Two days is nothing, given the circumstances. The floor is open for discussion."

For all that she had plenty to scream when the message was playing, Mono is now completely silent and apparently distracted, typing away furiously at the tablet display in front of her station at the table. She's completely lost in whatever she's doing.

"Sir. I don't see how 'New Eden'—…" Ben-Haim's tone flattens the world's idyllic name. But he's scaled back his tone, which is an improvement over last time he spoke. "Can be an option now. If these 'Devourer' things gain any access at all to what they know back home, that's gone compromised. I can't see how we could take that risk."

Dominic nods as he looks to the Captain as soon as he opens the floor to discussion. "Sir, looking from a security stand point, I would advise against us using the Faster Than Light technology. If it will give away our position, then I say it is not worth our lives to take the risk. I would suggest that we integrate the cloaking technology into our systems and skill salvage the FTL drives. We may be able to use that technology in other areas that might make our lives easier where ever we do finally decide to colonize. I would also agree that New Australia—" He corrects himself. "New Eden." He pauses for a second to collect his thoughts. "Is not a viable location any more."

Getting his hands folded, and halted from all of his fidgeting, Eyulf speaks up once again, looking directly at Ramesh "Assuming Lieutenant L'Anse and The Captain approves, sir, I would like to begin processes with Adam for the purpose of seeing what sort of sensor information that these Snail-crablians' apparently refusing the respect of naming the aliens in light of all this 'have provided us regarding their own lists of known species… and a projections in regards to weapon system potentials in the event of a prolonged naval engagement… based on the wonderful news." he apparently has more, judging by his expression but it looks like the Security Specialist is more inclined to share that with his own CO in private.

Pramiti nods to Dominic and Ben-Haim. "I would agree with them, except to say I believe we should take time to analyze all available data. The Faster then Light technology may make a good emergency option. If we encounter more then we can handle, we turn it on and head for the wormhole. We have to think in terms of centuries now. That requires foresight, planning, and lots of information. So we should really gain all the information we can for the three months we are awake before deciding what to do."

St-Sirois looks between Ben-Haim and Dominic as they give their opinions. "Of the available options, sir… in my medical opinion, both are borderline unacceptable. The Alpha Centauri option is the less bad, so long as we can go outside. But the lack of complex proteins would tell on our systems and we'd basically be settling a planet while setting ourselves up for an incipient health catastrophe." A beat. "Not that there's a great deal of data on the matter. Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, either way we're basically hoping we land on a planet that won't kill us."

Sully shrugs as the computer outwits the captain, he lets out a noncommittal "Mmmm" as he continues his lethargic shuffle towards the doors of the conference room since his attempt to leave have thus far been unnoticed and unobstructed.

"We have been in stasis for years, and these…Devourers knew of our planet before the Givers came, if that…thing is to be believed…" Adesida murmurs it almost as much to herself as the others. As if she's thinking aloud. "…they may have found Earth already, as we slept. And…" She can't even finish the thought speculating what they might've done to it. She trails off, not wanting to say anything more.

"Since the other two are in our 'immediate area'." Ben-Haim can practically make finger quotes just using his voice. "Perhaps we can have a look at each without wasting too much time." He wipes the side of his thumb against his lapel, leaving a small mark of blood that's barely visible against the black. After a moment he licks his thinned lips before going on in a slightly tenser voice. "And if we receive a message back from Earth, Captain? That there /is/ something still there?"

Jackson's lips purse into a tight line, and he glances around the small assembled group. His eyes fall upon everyone in turn, resting quietly upon the senior medical officer present before he suddenly sits up a bit. He listens as tactical discussion begins, tongue darting out of his mouth briefly to wet his lips before he speaks again. "We have just… heard very stressful and disturbing news," he interjects, his dark voice carrying but not forceful. A hand leaves his chest, gesturing vaguely. "We have been in artificial stasis for six years. We must wait two days for reply from Earth. I think it might be best for us to simply settle ourselves, and reconvene. We have two days to wait for reply from Earth. We have three months awake. What we do not have is the emotional stability to make command and tactical decisions unnecessarily. I would suggest we rest the crew, decide how to make this information known to the crew at large, and reconvene in twenty-four or forty-eight hours. If this full grouping is preferred to merely senior command." Stupid psychiatrists. Pointing out things.

Eisley listens, watches, breathes, though not necessarily in that order; it's more of an all-at-once thing but it seems to calm her, to restore her back to a much more temperate - and less homicidal - neutrality. As each of those gathered around the table speaks she listens, attention shifting for purely observational purposes through the duration of each comment. Only when everyone else has finished does the XO speak. "I concur," she says, though not immediately identifying with what, or with whom. "If this message is correct and Earth is now… a target for hostile alien forces, then the cargo we carry is now doubly precious. At the moment it seems prudent to activate the provided cloaking technology, if we can verify that it will not draw the attention of additional hostile forces. At this precise moment there is absolutely nothing we can do but continue on course, and we should use this time to… recover." Dr. Jackson gets a single nod from her for that one point alone, perhaps. "I suppose this explains why the ship was designed to be so comfortable for an extended stay. We should avail ourselves of that. I would, however, recommend against waking any non-essential personnel for the time being, and reconvene after we have acquired and processed whatever other information we can glean about the situation."

"I agree that New Eden is likely compromised," Ramesh allows. "Dr. Jackson is correct. At least for the next two days, nothing we decide makes any difference. Sullivan-" apparently some one HAS noticed his attempted escape, "I want you to go through the upload and see if they've provided any linguistics on their own language, or any of the species they've included. If it has a language, I want you to speak it as soon as possible." He then looks to Pramiti and Mono. "I want the two of you to go through the database as fast as you can and learn as much as you can. We need to know everything they've given us before we make any final decisions." He'd then nods in agreement with Eisley. "Agreed. The next 48 hours are to be spent learning what we can and trying to decompress. Outside of your individual duties, consider yourself off duty until we reconvene."

"The sheer amount of information they've given us is fucking staggering," Mono mutters to the Captain. "It's going to take some time to sort through it all, but on a cursory glance I think that the cloaking technology can be implemented in the next day or so with minimal effort. Also, the faster than light travel doesn't require any additional installation, it simply requires a recalibration of the shields to be able to handle the speed. Moving that fast, though, they were right. It's impossible to cloak. I should know more soon."

Question having gone unanswered, there's no response from Ben-Haim but for a slight twitch at the corner of his left eye. His fingers press white when they grip the table and he pushes his chair back, standing up — if not entirely sure where he was going to go.

Eyulf taps his fingers on the table top, and then on his wrist-comp, Cap' said that other than individual duties that they were off… Well, this was something he considered a duty. Uploading his queries to Adam now via the personal unit, eyes narrowed, jaw firmly set.

Sully pushes his tongue into his cheek and nods to the captain, "Ok" he says and then glances around at the room "You're all damn trusting that this information is worth a damn" he says "Some fucking hermit crab gives you a space ship and kills off your entire species and you still got a hard-on for some cloaking device that for all you know is just a more entertaining way for what is left of us to die." He shrugs and then leaves the conference room.

"…The two systems are close in a relative sense," Mono tells Ben-Haim. "With our current technology, we would be at New Eden in about four more years. We can be at Tau Ceti in five. Alpha Centauri is back the other direction, closer to Earth. It would take about six years."

Pramiti nods to the Captain. "Yes sir." she says with a nod. Glancing towards Sully, she replies, "Good point. And as it said, the Devourers seem to be able to track them through the cloak." But we can't even begin to assess or speculate further until we know more. Or at least I won't. I'm going to go dive into the data-dump immediately."

"That's why we have Miss Kurokawa and Miss Barhti," Ramesh points out to Sully. "To tell us what the technology really does and verify what they said is true. If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears."

Leaning forward slightly, St-Sirois looks over at the other doctor. The -brain- doctor. Dr. St-Sirois narrows his eyes, very slightly, towards Jackson. "Doctor, I think that none of us are in the mood to relax and enjoy a little calming music. It may be too early to make any decisions, but it's certainly not too early to relieve ourselves by expressing opinions and batting hope across our desk of despair." Beat. "With all respect, doctor."

"Well hell, sir." Ben-Haim replies to Mono, lifting a hand with palm in the air. "If Alpha Centauri's six years back towards earth then we'd be headed straight back into this supposed Devourer maw, if the bloody things even /do/ exist."

"I would like to meet with all of the offices individually in the next 18 to 24 hours," says Eisley. "I do not require any immediate status updates, but I would like a general indication of what, specifically, you plan to approach." This factors in both the apparent high level of workaholism in the room with the captain's light duty order.

As the Captain starts assigning duty tasks, Dominic takes the opportunity to turn to Eyulf. "While you're with Adam, see if you can figure out any weaknesses that this new technology has and see if you can figure out any ideas to over come those weaknesses." He then turns and starts to assign duty assignments to the other security personnel as well before he turns back to the rest of the group.

Sully shakes his head in response to the Captain's reply, "That's way above my pay grade" he mutters and then adds "I'll go work on those languages. Let me know if you can't understand something in the files or need some kind of encryption cracked" he says and then really does leave this time.

"It's not exactly straight back in the same direction," Mono clarifies for Ben-Haim. "But yeah, it's a lot fucking closer than I'd like to be if what they said is true. It may not be the same neighborhood, but it's the same town, if you know what I mean. The further the fuck we are away from them, the better."

"The same galaxy is a bit too damn close for me, sir," Ben-Haim tells Mono by way of flat agreement. "At the same time…abandoning Earth leaves a hell of a bad taste in my mouth. Don't even know if this bullshit is true." He shoots a glance back at the screen, eyes sharp, then starts for the door. No assignment means the pilot's got idle hands for the next 48 hours, and who the heck knows what's going to come of that.

"If they exist being the operative word. All we have is the tale of a being that may have given our race over as cattle to save itself. If they lied to us before - even by omission - God only knows what else they haven't told us," Adesida says after Ben-Haim. A look is shot between Jackson and St-Sirois, dark brows arching.

Eyulf bobs his head at Dominic "Ja sir. It is on the list, with a few other similar things…" tapping away and sending a direct uplink to Dominic to review as needed while he works, keeping a constant update. He doesn't add any more to the general din, hard at work now.

Jackson nods his head at the Captain's directive, glancing about for a moment before stating, "My door is open to any of you. Off or on duty." St-Sirois' comment causes him to turn, his expression still quite calm. "My caution, doctor, is against delving unnecessarily into these subjects without time to process the information." A pause. "I think no one is in the mood to relax at the moment; that is not my point. Though my recommendation that we process and reconvene stands." A tight smile follows. "Though all I can do is make said recommendation. It is up to command to accept it or not." He rises from his chair slowly, preparing to depart with his orders.

"Like our own people lied to us by omission when they built this ship to only one tenth of the intended size?" Mono asks Adesida without looking up from her furious typing. "We don't exactly treat our own any better than they did. Not that I don't have a sudden craving for escargot…" She glances up briefly at Ben-Haim. "I might need you when I get to the faster than light technology. I'm not much of a pilot, and I may have questions."

"Aye, sir." Ben-Haim answers Mono thinly as he reaches the door, ignoring the talk from the shrink behind him. Out he goes, his posture visibly wound up.

Captain Ramesh continues to look at the now blank screen, lost in thought. If he's paying any attention to the things being said around him, he shows no signs of it.

Pramiti stands up. "I'm going to return to my quarters and study the data." she says simply, and heads for the door.

Eisley lowers her hands into her lap to hide the whiteness. Out of sight, out of mind, perhaps. She glances around the room as people begin to depart, attention eventually fixing on the Captain. She watches him for a few seconds, sharing in his silence, then rises slowly to her feet. "I'll be in my… office."

Back to: Logs