thirty-ninth jump;

[ataraxites]

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: A feeling of deep dread greets you as you stumble out of the gravcouch, strong enough to hold you still for a long moment, searching your surroundings for the source of your wariness. Nothing becomes apparent, only your fellow passengers waking up. Eventually you gather the resolve to pick yourself up and start moving, the feeling fading slowly as you progress through routine.

New arrivals will find messages spraypainted across their lockers telling them not to follow their tattoo numbers, and instead to find a room on Floors 001-010.


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ＹＯＵ͘ ̨ＷＡＫＥ̢ ̧ＵＰ ́ＩＮ ＤＡ̛ＲＫＮ̢Ｅ̕ＳＳ̶

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.

ＹＯ́Ｕ̴ ̧Ａ̨ＲＥ ＮＯＴ҉ ̷ＡＬＯ̨ＮＥ҉

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.

ＴＨ̀ＩＳ͜ ̶Ｉ͠Ｓ͡ ͘Ｙ̵Ｏ͝ＵＲ ̕Ｗ͝Ｅ̛Ｌ̨Ｃ͡Ｏ͝Ｍ͏Ｅ Ｐ̛ＡＲ̴ＴＹ͜

Comments

[servator]

That's a loaded question. Shepard picks a booth without much care, settles in, and... thinks.

"Depends what you mean," she says, slowly. "Literally with us, somewhere in the ship? Or..."

What, some kind of spirit, or... memory, locked away somewhere? Could be. There are a lot of unknowns on the ship and they don't seem to get very far no matter how much time passes.

[circumitus]

"Both," Rey concludes. "Literally, but transformed -- as we almost were a few jumps ago. And others perhaps still with us in another sense. In the halls. In the walls. Following, watching us."

She's felt it, some times more strongly than others. The inescapable feeling of many eyes studying her. Of shadows moving in the hallways.

The Cyllene had obviously been occupied by something when they had docked there. The Tranquility may still be inhabited the same way.

This ship isn't empty. That's the problem.

Realizing that she's still standing, Rey slides into the seat opposite of Shepard, muttering a quiet apologies under her breath.

[servator]

"Ghosts." Shepard nods, leaning back. Not necessarily ghosts and spirits in the sense of old scary movies, but in the way that there could be ghosts in the system, subtle changes and odd machinations in ships. This might be more literal, sure, but nothing like this surprises her anymore.

"Guess the real question is what they want." Was it to warn them, scare them away? To give them answers? She furrows her brow again, leaning forward over propped elbows and clasped hands. There're too many questions that crop up on an almost weekly basis and even people like Rey who have been on the ship since the beginning and who seem to know the most struggle to make sense of it all.

[circumitus]

"Keep us? Help us? Get rid of us?" Rey shrugs. "Don't know yet."

She hates not being able to answer, after being here for as long as she has.

Her eyes shift to the stacks of liquor lined on the walls, before she gets up from the booth and walks towards the counter. Rather than going for the booze, however, she pours herself a healthier glass of water.

Lifting a second empty glass, she waves it over at Shepard, silently asking if she'd like anything while Rey is still on her feet.

[servator]

The truth is that they may not know for a while, or for a very long while. Shepard taps a finger against her arm, trying to think back to her time on the ship and if she's had an encounter with these "ghosts," if she's heard anything... but, no, not to her memory.

"Just, ah-- Whatever you're having," she jokes, lip twitching upward. It's too soon from the jump, in her mind, for a drink; her head still has some catching up to do.

"Not much we can do at the moment, seeing as most of our 'exploration' usually ends up with someone hurt."

Or worse. She scowls; refraining from action is something she's often loathe to do, and this is no exception.

[circumitus]

Good choice. Even if Rey has long since gotten used to the jumps, her stomach still does hurdles and flips that she doesn't trust herself not to lose her drink just as quick as she is to drink it. She pours Shepard some water in the spare glass and brings it over, sliding it towards her while slipping back into her seat.

"There are still some people who are willing to take the risk. Idle hands are the devil's tools, as the saying goes." She smirks a little, stretching the scars on her lip and jaw.

Rey herself is one of those who would risk anything for the sake of the mission. Despite the mutiny, her attempts to leave on Arima, and even the recon... She's still less inclined to just sit around.

[servator]

Shepard, clearly, is cut from the same cloth. Since the last Commander was killed in one such attempt and this one is a little too likely to act similarly, she's completely sympathetic to the idea. It's too much to bear to be expected to sit around and play it safe, passively waiting for answers, or enemies, to come their way.

"Thanks," she says with an appreciative nod before taking a few gulps of the water. A real drink wouldn't have hurt, for sure, but this is a nice change after all the fluid in her lungs.

"Maybe we can find some way to look into all this that doesn't just have us moving blind through the dark... uh, literally and figuratively."

[circumitus]

"Agreed. We've gathered some intel over the years... Still trying to piece together everything that Van Rijn's people just told us before the jump. How we can use that information to help us."

She hasn't yet had the chance to go over all of the conversations before having to rush to the gravity couches. Rey has to clear her head first, and being able to sit down with some water is helping.

There's still a lot that they don't know, but they know a hell of a lot more now than they did when Rey first got here.

"Have no desire to go back into the corridors," she concludes after a drink. "Thinking perhaps some of the answers we're looking for are a little closer."

[servator]

"That's usually how it turns out." Shepard sighs, crossing her legs, tapping a finger against the top of the glass. "Seems like the answer's miles away, and it's almost always right there, something you've seen a million times..."

As with the Citadel when it had turned out to be the Catalyst. The one damn thing they'd needed all along that they hadn't recognized until it was too late. Or... almost too late.

"Is all this intel and investigation being collected all in one place somewhere, or is it just bits and pieces between people?"

[circumitus]

Rey makes a little affirmative hm in agreement. In her experience, the most seemingly complex problems can be answered for by the simplest solution. Perhaps they've been over-complicating things all this time, and the truths have been right in front of them.

"Bits and pieces," she replies. "We've been able to gather more information based on what was provided to us over time, or what we've collected. Such as the core of the ship that was found while by reconnaissance."

She blinks, and for a moment there's a flash of white. Her head shakes, and she takes another gulp of water in the midst of her efforts to separate herself from the past. Easier said than done, but not impossible with the right focus.