ELEVENTH WAVE

[astrogate]

CHARACTERS: any and all
LOCATION: Gravity Couches and beyond
WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, or even some violence, and more than likely some implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Another month, another jump, another round of new faces.
NOTES: Keeping up with the tradition and copy pasted like always from the last one


You wake up in darkness.


There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're deposited on the floor of a stark, sterile medical bay.

You are not alone.


There are others who have come before you, others who are awakening beside you. Some may be familiar to you, perhaps even friends. Others have much less amiable plans. Some are merely alien and inexplicable, but there are always those who might mean you harm.

After you catch your breath and your vision returns, you notice a number on the inside of your forearm. Maybe it's a familiar number. Maybe it means something. Maybe it's just a number. But the number—completely unique to you—is a tattoo, and it does not come off.

If you enter the room adjacent to the medbay, you will find a small locker with your number on it, surrounded by rows upon rows of identical lockers. Inside, you will find a few of your personal items, a communications device, and a ship's uniform in your exact size. The comms device is fully powered and connects directly to the ship's network; it's your only means of communication beyond physical conversation. Upon turning the device on, a neutral, automated voice will say, "Please take the blue lift to the passenger quarters." Any other attempts at communicating with the rest of the network are met only with static.

This is your welcome party.

Comments

Diziet Sma - OTA

[diziet_sma]

"Ship?"

Sma coughs; her throat feels raw from the breathing apparatus and there's blue goo in her eyes and ears, and the Low Gravitas Warning Signal is not answering at all. The GSV is whimsical—as many from that foundry are—but it wouldn't leave her hanging, unanswered, and even it wouldn't find much amusement in stripping its passengers and sticking them in them in a tank of ... whatever this stuff is.

She's entirely unselfconscious of her state of undress, but uncomfortably aware that she's surrounded by strangers and Skaffen-Amtiskaw is nowhere to be found. She's been displaced somehow; that much is obvious. Kudos to whoever got past the Mind of a GSV and zapped her here, then.

The good news is that, as best as she can tell, there are no overt threats to her well-being. So: wash up, get dressed. And then get oriented and find out exactly what the hell is going on.

[alittlesideways]

Tommy's still reeling from emptying the contents of his stomach all over the floor. It's that awful, shaky post-puking feeling, and there's a part of him that just wants to curl up in bed and sleep off what's bound to be a killer hangover.

As is typical for him, Tommy's somewhat in his own little world as he steps out of the shower. He ignores everybody else as he goes to his locker, pulls the standard issue black jumpsuit on. Once that's done, he pushes past the others, heading for the exit. He's so absorbed in his own thoughts that he barely notices it when he bumps into the woman, some stranger that he doesn't know. Could be new, but he wouldn't know it if she wasn't-- Tommy hasn't been the most sociable person on the ship.

[diziet_sma]

Sma's dressed by now, with the (useless) terminal brooch pinned to the standard-issue jumpsuit. She's picking up her bag with the belongings that the powers that be have seen fit to grant her when someone bumps into her.

"Sorry," she says, in that tone that isn't a real apology, but rather a polite suggestion that people ought to look where they're going, if it's all right with them.

[alittlesideways]

"Sorry?" It takes him a moment to register that she's talking to him. He stops in his tracks and looks back at her, studying her for a beat. Right. He bumped into her. "Oh. Yeah." He runs a hand over his head and shrugs. "You new?"

[diziet_sma]

"Freshly hatched," she says with a little smile. She offers her hand (it's a surprisingly common gesture across multiple civilisations). "Diziet Sma. Are you ... not new?"

[alittlesideways]

Tommy gives her hand a shake, his grip a little slack, and he offers a small, shaky smile. "Tommy Burgess. I've been here for about a month, but it's still fucking weird. It's hard to get used to this place."

[diziet_sma]

She nods in the direction of the grav couches. "So we can look forward to this action once a month? I take it that's when the new people like me show up, as well."

[alittlesideways]

"Yeah." He shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets. "You're taking this good."

[diziet_sma]

She chuckles softly. "Well, space travel isn't unusual for me. Although the method around here is. And so is waking up in a pod full of blue goo after a displacement that you hadn't planned for."

[toasterprophet]

"Are you talking to the ship itself?" asks a passing stranger, who's paused and is regarding her with curiosity. "I haven't had much luck with that."

(Yes. He's tried. People who are in the same room with him tend to give him funny looks, but he's used to that.)

[diziet_sma]

Sma looks up at the man and smiles ruefully.

"I was trying," she says. "I'm used to ships that talk back when answered. And I thought for a moment ... well, I wasn't quite sure where I was. Thought it was maybe a bit of a prank or something."

[toasterprophet]

"You're on the Tranquility, which doesn't seem to speak, though it may be sentient. Everybody's got a theory. A prank's as good a one as any, but it'd have to be a prankster with pretty impressive resources."

[diziet_sma]

"What a quiet, inoffensive name," she says, thinking that if it were a Culture ship, it would have been chosen with some irony. "So everyone here—" she gestures and the bay, "all got here the same way, then? Why? Who's running the show?"

[toasterprophet]

"Some people have suggested it's meant to be ironic," he says with a smile. "There are regular complaints and suggestions about changing it to something less misleading. And...well, that's the question, isn't it?

"The Captain is a man called Ward. But he doesn't talk much, or mingle, and he hasn't been too clear on what happened to the old crew before all of us were brought here to fill their places. Consensus is it probably wasn't anything good. No idea how we got here, either. Might be the ship itself."

[diziet_sma]

Sma rubs her forehead and pinches the bridge of her nose. "So what do we do? Are we just along for the ride, or is there something we're meant to do?"

[toasterprophet]

"Some people sign on as crew, to fill the empty places. Security has the most, since there are a lot of people who can throw a punch. Not so many who can heal the injury." Shrug. "Everyone else talks, drinks, flirts, mourns their losses, and tries to figure out why we're here. Some want a way to go back, some would rather stay."

[diziet_sma]

"I need to get back," she muttered. "There's too much going on; I—" She broke off, embarrassed. "Well. I guess I'll make the best of it, but this is really inconvenient. I'd better get my things. I guess this has something to do with it?" She indicated the numbers on her arm.

[toasterprophet]

"If it's any comfort, sometimes people are sent back, and return to say that they hadn't lost any time while they were here. Whatever brought us here is powerful in countless ways. You might want to find out about what's going on for the wellbeing of your own home." Slight smile. "If you'd like a justification for your presence besides 'I can't leave.' If you're someone who needs a sense of purpose to guide you."

Nodding at her arm, he answers, "That number will match up with a locker over there, which should have clothes, a communicator, and maybe a few things from home. It'll also be your identifier on the ship network, and the number of your room."

[diziet_sma]

"That's a relief, I guess. Still—I do like a sense of purpose, it's true." She smiled wryly and rubbed at her arm. "I guess I'd better get myself cleaned up and sorted and all. Anything else I ought to know before I head off for that? Either way, I'd like to talk more later, if you've got the time."

[toasterprophet]

The number of people who finished an encounter with Leoben asking for more was...not large. He was flattered. "Sure. Anytime. I'm 09, 002."

"I guess the main thing to keep in mind is that people will be coming from different worlds, where everything is different from what you may be used to, even down to the laws of physics. Try not to dismiss what you're told out of hand. Most people will be honest till they've got a reason not to be."

[diziet_sma]

"Keeping an open mind got me where I am today," she said with a smile. "Well—not today today, but you know what I mean. Thanks for the advice; I'll keep it in mind." She got to her feet. "I'll see you around, then."

[toasterprophet]

"You will," he predicted, just a little smug. She couldn't have any idea what she'd walked into, because none of them did. "Be well, and do good works until we meet again."