ataraxionlogs | (no subject)

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
LOCATION: MED BAY
WARNINGS: ... Partial nudity? It should be pretty tame, but let me know if I need to add anything.
SUMMARY: Side-effects of a jump may include disorientation and temporary memory loss. Fortunately, there are a handful of others who have been through this before.
NOTES: Yes, it's a rehashing of the game premise. Don't worry, you can personalize your own (re-)introduction!

You wake up, alone in the dark.

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.

Don't worry, 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. They will help you through your disorientation, even though they might suffer from it too.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He isn't the first to have emerged with an excess of sound- and given the myriad circumstances in which passengers were delivered, several of these responses he believed, could be considered tame. As it stands, this particular outburst is close to Spock's own stasis chamber, and rising to his feet at the man's profile, his attention turns.

Outwardly, at his initial assessment he cannot find injury- though his attention does drag to the robotic limb- but the query is necessary regardless. Damage sustained by any member brought aboard the vessel could potentially decrease productivity of the whole.

"Disorientation is a temporary effect of the stasis chamber. In the interim, have you sustained injury?"

"Avon," he whispered quietly to himself, as if making a threat. That wasn't Avon's voice, and upon locating the source of the voice, he was sure of it. The rage quelled with another deep breath.

"I have not, and I don't believe it to be any concern of yours," he answered with a sneer - a routine response that he would give to any Federation medic, or otherwise.

Academically, he understands that the human response to such an answer could be a myriad number of things. Caution perhaps, or a recoil- offended or insulted. Instead, Spock simply keeps still, hands clasped at parade rest behind his back. Impassive and inexpressive.

"On the contrary. You are a misappropriated member of the Tranquility and as such, potentially offer expertise that would benefit this vessel and it's crew. Without an understanding of your capabilities in your primary continuum, to disregard you could result in suboptimal performance."

His uncovered eye narrows as he listens. "I'm nothing more than an unwilling captive, and I am expected to lend my expertise to a cause which I know nothing about?" comes the reply, with anger seeping through toward the end.