The AI Project: Chapter One

Nobody seemed particularly interested in speaking during the shuttle descent. For his part, Riley saw no special reason to speak to the others just yet. He just leaned back in his harness and closed his eyes with a smug grin on his face. The turbulence didn't bother him in the slightest, though he did think the pilot made it worse than it had to be. Either the man wanted to shake them up a little for whatever reason, or he needed more practice flying in atmo. Riley was the first to jump out when the shuttle had touched down, any thoughts of the ride forgotten.

Riley hauled an over-large suitcase out behind him and set it on the ground. He had to shift the exercise bar on top to reach the command pad, but soon the luggage was rolling along behind him obediently. That left his hands free for a much more important task: helping that beautiful brunette in black carry her bag. Riley quick-stepped to get alongside Alice and extended his hand toward the load she carried. "May I help you with that?" Riley asked in his smooth tenor. He was smiling kindly, but even that held his standard self-assurance at the corners.


Bao Qin stepped off the shuttle behind Blake and Elric. She had been content to remain apart from their conversation; from the moment the shuttle lifted away from the larger ship, Bao Qin had concentrated on meditating. She attempted to clear her thoughts, especially any involving the sheer distance below her feet and the number of technical failures that could cause that distance to shrink rapidly. It took a great deal of effort inside the quaking shuttle. That was definitely the reason she found herself breathing heavy by the time she finally stepped foot on solid land. Leaving the cursed craft behind her, Bao Qin turned to follow the rest of the crowd.

She underestimated exactly how hard the shuttle ride had been on her. On her third step, Bao Qin's weakened knees gave way and she tipped sideways. With both hands holding her suitcase in front of her, she fell without any means to catch herself.

"Whoa!" Kayla hopped forward and wrapped an arm under Bao Qin, catching her and raising her upright once more. "Careful; the gravity is a little stronger here than it was on the Absolution. It's best to stand still for a minute or two to let your body adjust." Kayla offered a bright smile. She would have liked to continue, but a very loud "Ahem" from behind her reminded Kayla that she wasn't exactly free to wander. "Good luck today!" she called as her new supervisor lead her off.

Bao Qin did stand still for a time; she was stunned by the speed at which things had just happened. It took another loud call of, "Candidates this way!" to draw Bao Qin from her silent pondering. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued on toward her new home with steady footsteps. She did find it odd that she didn't feel any difference in the gravity; in fact, it would have made sense that the ship used Durness gravity as its standard, preparing them for this ahead of time. The reason for her stumble had been... a change in gravity. Yes. Even Princess Xue was affected by changes in gravity.
 
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...
April 24th, 2759
Front entrance
Illoca Facility, Durness
2:47 PM (Durness time table)
...

Alice Davern


As Alice wrapped her fingers around her bags, a stranger approached her, reaching out a hand as if to offer to carry her luggage for her. She looked up at the stranger, who had weirdly lush brown hair and looked far too... pretty, to be in a Project like this. Still, she had to let a smile lift her lips as she regarded him, shrugging her shoulders as if she were indifferent, although the smile suggested otherwise. In all actuality, she was feeling rather pleased with the attention she seemed to be getting from the people she would be 'staying' with during her time at the facility. Blake was a rather cool person, and she wouldn't have minded at all becoming acquaintances or perhaps friends with him, and this newcomer, whomever he was, was already making a good impression on the very un-impressionable Alice.

"If you'd like to. Although I'm sure you have luggage, too, that you'll be needing to carry?" She asked before she leaned slightly to the side to see the large case rolling itself after it's owner, like an incredibly obedient dog. Her smile grew wider. "I'm impressed. I've yet to see tech like that out on the common street."

The two continued to chat as the candidate group made their way inside of the complex, into a large showcase lobby. There was no pretty fountain or reception, but it had beautiful tiling for a research facility, with glass windows lining the upper portion of the tall room to let in sunlight, with two hallways in the back of the room leading off in either direction and two sets of staircases leading to the upper level. The group's guide led them behind one of the staircases through one of the hallways, and further into a medium sized room, set up with a podium on a slightly elevated stage, where a woman was standing with a few others behind her. The group was ushered in, guards standing by the doors in an almost threatening way. Alice eyed them warily, positioning herself next to her new acquaintance, whose name she had learned to be Riley.

"Did you figure there would be such tight sec here, or is it only me who underestimated it? I mean, what do they expect, that one of us will commandeer a shuttle and manage to get out of the system?" She scoffed. "Please. They don't need to stick guards in front of every doorway."

Even though her words were hushed, meant for Riley's ears only, she got a few looks from nearby people, eyes narrowed to convey a very clear message: "Shut up." Alice decided to heed this advice, using a shrug to signal the probable end of conversation between her and Riley as the woman at the front, by the podium, began to speak.


...
April 24th, 2759
Front Entrance
Illoca Facility, Durness
2:50 PM (Durness time table)
...

Simone "Phoenix" Rish


As the group began to near the entrance of the facility, Simone felt the knot in her chest rising to her throat- a very bad knot. She swallowed to bite back the rising nausea, focusing her eyes on the ground instead of at the structure around her. It didn't really look like the building of her nightmares. That building had been completely whitewash on the interior, the exterior made of dark charcoal stone and lightless black glass. Inside, however, it felt as claustrophobic and creepy as some hospitals often did, despite the beautiful decoration and design. Perhaps it was only as chilling as it was because the facility had been completely emptied one month into her unit's stay, or perhaps it was the residual memories of the bright crimson pools staining the opaque tiles and the startling black ash and wispy smoke that filled it's halls, but regardless it had grown to become terrifying, and now, this compound was beginning to work it's way into those dark depths of her mind, too.

This facility is not the same. Nothing will harm me here. I'm safe. I'm totally safe.

She repeated those words over and over in her mind as the group walked down the halls and into a rather cramped viewing room of sorts. With all the candidates, and a few staff inside, with nowhere to sit, it felt full instead of spacious. She stood awkwardly near the front, her bags still in hand, still focusing on the floor. If she looked up too suddenly, all that pent up nausea would spill right out. She couldn't let that happen. As a female voice began to speak in the front of the room, she slowly worked on her breathing, a technique her counselor had taught her that slowly had become ingrained into her mind. It was instinctual now, to close her eyes, and focus on her breathing: in, 7 seconds, hold, 7 seconds, out, 7 seconds. Repeat.

The knot began to fade away, and she looked up from the floor. People were leaving the room. She had managed to let ten minutes slip right by through her fingertips. Not that she was worried. It was ten minutes she had spent calm, and ten minutes she hadn't spent breaking down.

Alright. Just... follow the group. Everything will be fine.

Once down the end of the hall, the group was stopped at a series of two elevators; there were two call buttons, one for going up, and one for going down. So there was a basement, Simone thought. The guide hit them for up, though, and organized the two groups to go in groups of six, to level four. The elevators were rather wide in size, allowing all six of each group to fit in alright. She counted the 'ding' noises the elevator made- four- until the doors slid open.

Level 4, whatever it was for, looked pretty nice. The floors looked as if they were a synthetic wood- not real wood, but it looked real and shiny enough to be a highly polished redwood- and while the walls were still white, they were made of a nicer paneling instead of marble and furbished rock. Once both groups were out of the elevator, the guide walked them down the hall into a square shaped commons area.

"These will be your rooms. Each room has a name tag posted next to it; find yours, and it will be your room for your stay. Each room is connected to at least one other on the inside. We ask that each of you respect the privacy of the others in the vicinity. There is a common room and bathrooms nearby, but until our late lunch, we ask candidates stay in their rooms and unpack. If any help is required, there is an intercom button by the doors."

Then the guide promptly left, leaving the group in a muddled mess.

Simone turned away from the crowd and promptly began to search around the doors, reading the names by each one until she found hers. The doors slide open cleanly, showing her the small room that would be hers for the next six months. For some odd reason, she had to fight back tears.​
 
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Jonas Albach and Kendrick Crow


Durness Facility
Serial: xxx-xxxx-A2f3
3:30pm
---
​
"Why did you join the project, Crow?" Jonas asked, taking a pause from the transcriber-pad before him that detailed the training schedule. A hand ran through his thinning hair as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the man to answer.​

"No one told me it was optional?" Crow laughed loudly, settling down before adding. "No. No, the pay was right. Simple as that."​

Jonas raised an eyebrow, stating jokingly enough. "I was unaware we were hiring mercenaries."​

"Hah, then you'd never want your shiny security to be used." Crow retorted, pulling out an e-cig from his pocket and pressing the ignition light. After two long puffs, he continued. "I was going to be a staff sergeant my whole career. Didn't have the aptitude to enter any specialist units, couldn't go back to officer's school, and be damned if I'd go for the navy. Oh, 'course I had the 'achievement' of those border conflicts back home on Mars, remember those? Some organized rebellion to the UPN, managed to take a whole city before we put them down.​

"Now, the thing they never told you about that was that it wasn't some rebellion towards the UPN in general. It was organized rioting to avoid the draft for the new all-encompassing army they were forming. I didn't think it went into non-planetary guard individuals, but hell, who am I to judge? Nothing too bad happened to them, still had to enter the draft, but I don't think there was another uprising."​

"Think? Certainly you would have been called into action again if there was." Jonas replied, glancing up from another transcriber-pad.​

"All of the ones who joined the cross-planetary regiment were off doing some damned Khaian-hunting training and learning to use those new railrifles. I would have been right with them, but I only got through a week of training before the project offered me a spot in their security team. Figuring it was better, and safer, I'd join up with that lot. And here I am."​

Jonas nodded and continued writing at the transcriber-pad. He nearly had the scheduling done, but then he would need to work on disciplinary matters taken, working on team building among the candidates, and a whole list of other annoying tasks. It wasn't supposed to be this way for him. No, his involvement with this project was thought of as a last-resort. The man holding this position previously had been lost in transit to Durness, or so Jonas assumed, causing the position to fall upon himself. He didn't want it. He didn't think it was fair. But he would work with it. He would work with it.​

"And here you are."
​


Savannah Chapman

Durness Facility
Level 4
2:46pm
---​

Savannah hadn't talked to anybody the entire time. Not at the landing site, not in hushed whispers as the staff introduced themselves and the facility, and certainly not down the crammed corridors leading to what she presumed were their own chambers. While the exterior of the facility had undoubtedly been far colder than she was accustomed to, the hallways were kept an even temperature, at least until the handful of hot-blooded humans were forced into tight confines. As such, sweat had started to bead down her brow as they continued down the very limited hallway.

The elevator ride up had been no less miserable for her. Taking the already crammed space and cutting the ceiling short a meter had not helped the situation. Her hands had grown clammy and she realized she was the only one showing any real discomfort, with her brow dampened with sweat and her foot tapping impatiently. Cursing herself for misjudging the amount of time between outbursts, Savannah cast her mind elsewhere. She had time to let it out in her chambers, she just had to keep it preoccupied until then.

Savannah flinched as the doors opened, calming down as fast as she had jolted. The guide stated their rooms would be tagged with their name, and before that statement was finished, Savannah was off to find her room with the other candidates timidly following behind her, assuming it was alright to go off. After a long moment of double checking all the doors, she realized hers was at the end of the hall. Of course. Checking to make sure that the tag did indeed read 'Chapman, Savannah', she slid the door open and shut it behind her with a sigh of relief.

Inside the room was blissfully cool by comparison. Taking her now-shaking hands to her bag, she tossed it aside and gave the room one glance. Clean, if not exactly exuberant. There was a window, or a screen portraying what a window would, on the opposite wall along with a desk built out of the wall, suspended without any support. And upon that desk was a small case. Walking towards the desk, Savannah gingerly opened the small packet. With a hiss and a click, it opened, and inside stood seven needles in a chilled interior.
​
'Get in the habit of controlling yourself,
J. A.'
​
Offering the note no further glance, Savannah took the needle, pointed the tip outward, and placed it into the crook of her elbow. The drug clicked with a hiss and poured its chilled contents into her bloodstream. Sighing outwardly and sitting herself upon the bed, Savannah's head drifted back onto the pillows and she knew no more for a long while.
​

​


Nicholas Wilkinson

Durness Facility
Level 4
2:52pm
​
He'd only made the occasional smattering of chatter among the other candidates. None of them struck him as terrible or otherwise irreproachable, which was a blessing he had finally decided after long thought. He had paid scant attention to what any of the staff had said, save for that they would now be led to their own chambers, though that was also in fleeing attention. Nicholas had actually only stood when the others stood, and followed suit to the hallway they were filing into.

The amount of security perturbed him as he walked through hallways and finally to the elevator. Were they for their own peace of mind or to prevent them from leaving? He'd heard the girl, Alice, say something along the lines of it on their way through the labyrinthine complex, and he had to admit it: he agreed with her. Still, it was best to not openly do so with other ears around.

Once they had entered the elevator, he had noticed Savannah's state. Certainly he was not comfortable, as it was rather warm inside the elevator, but he certainly wasn't that terrible. He tossed the thought aside, feeling it would be better to keep whatever ailed her out of his mind. The rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence until the doors opened with a calm female voice stating 'Level four, candidate side.'

Nicholas stepped out, pausing when the guide held up a hand, explaining this was their floor and the rules thereof. Before the statement had been finished, Savannah had jolted forward. Waiting for the others to pass by, he glanced at the guide who returned the look and nodded as if to say 'go on.' He calmly began to stride forward, taking a moment to glance at the doorways that did not already have a candidate pouring over them. Finding his midway down the hall, he promptly entered and began to unpack his things.

When that was done, he sat upon his bed and waited, figuring if anyone wished to talk to him they would come and not the other way around.
​
I've made the right choice.​




​
 
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Every word Blake's new superiors spoke caused a feeling of dread to root itself deeper in his stomach, inch by inch. AIs he could tolerate. Experiments he could tolerate. Cram school he could tolerate. But the notion first suggested by the doctor and then driven home by the lieutenant that he would be run ragged, subjected to the grueling physical training of a military grunt in place of a real soldier... His face wasn't happy anymore, and his mind whirred desperately but got nowhere fast as he headed towards an elevator with the rest of the candidates. You've got the wrong guy. I'm not an athlete, I'm not a fighter. I'm not what you're looking for.

The doctor lady said she selected you personally, he argued with himself. She wants you specifically.

She picked wrong! Surely there's someone else out there who's more qualified than me, somewhere in the galaxy!

He clenched his fists. And it'll do you no good to whine. You're here, and you'll have to be strong. You'll have to set an example, exceed their expectations.

He sighed and tried to relax. That scolding voice in his head was right. He couldn't afford to be selfish. None of the other candidates he'd spoken to yet (this group included Alice, Savannah, Bao Qin, and Elric) had looked particularly combat-ready either. They were all in this together. His posture stiffened as he straightened up, his eyes now steely and determined. He had to take it just like the rest of them. He had to lead the way. He would project confidence; something told him that was what the staff wanted from him, though he couldn't have said why.

Savannah, though... He was worried about her. For one, he imagined anyone would agree that she looked emaciated and wasn't cut out for military-level physical training, at least not in her current condition. But what worried him more as the two of them and four other candidates crammed into one of the two elevators was that she was starting to fidget again. She looked far more uncomfortable than anyone else, and while he might have dismissed it as a phobia of crowds or small spaces, she was visibly shaking by the time they reached the fourth floor, just like she had been doing when she struggled to introduce herself in the Deck 6 common room. They were given instructions upon arrival, but Savannah booked it early...and for some reason, once the brief talk was over, Blake followed her, his pace brisk through the halls. Some part of him knew it wasn't his business to pry into her mental instability, but that didn't stop him from worrying that her condition was something much more severe than a social disability. When he turned a corner, he caught sight of her disappearing into a door a few rooms down. "Savannah?" he called as he approached, but he hadn't said it very loudly, perhaps out of some subconscious fear of judgment from either her or any of the others for poking his nose in other people's business, and besides, the door had just closed. When he was in front of her door, it took him a second to summon the will to raise a hand to knock, and he didn't follow through. He kept silent. And good(?) thing he did, or he wouldn't have heard the quiet noises inside: first a click and hiss that sounded like something opening, a pause, movement, another pause, a much quieter click and hiss of something he didn't know...and then a deep, primal sigh of intense relief.

...Oh.

He couldn't have known for sure if the mental images he'd conjured up to accompany those soft sounds were the truth, but once they'd clicked into place, they were hard to shake, and they explained a lot. He felt his insides knot in some strange combination of pity, compassion, and disgust. He lowered his hand without knocking and turned away from the door, now belatedly looking for his own room. He had no business prying. He hadn't had any business eavesdropping, really. He would find his room and keep this new theory to himself.

Unpacking was done quickly and unceremoniously. He'd been provided with more clothing than he expected, and a TV and PAD besides. Perhaps he hadn't needed to bring the tablet after all. The first thing he found himself wondering was how readily he'd be able to get online, if at all, and if so how limited or monitored his access would be, but after his time in the initial shuttle, the stint in the Absolution, and all he'd learned in the past few minutes, he felt more like lying down and doing nothing for a while. He hadn't realized he was tired until now, what with finally feeling a comfortable bed below him that wasn't moving and that he knew would be his for a prolonged period. He kicked his shoes off and collapsed on top of the covers. A nap was in order.

---​

What bothered Elric most about the two short speeches from his new superiors wasn't the looming threat of stressful activity. He was much more bothered that he hadn't been presented with any opportunity to raise a hand and ask questions, because his mind was a swirling storm of them right now. Questions about the project's inception, questions about how the AIs worked, questions about the details of their stay here. But neither was he a guy who liked making waves, so he kept with the group, not feeling too keen on doing anything questionable with such high security around. After an elevator ride, he and the other five in his group were greeted and introduced to their living space. He could easily have followed the group and gone to his room as instructed, but a brief debate waged in his head, and his curiosity won out. He approached the person who had explained the living complex. "Excuse me. Will we be receiving more information about the Project at lunch? I imagine I'm not the only one hoping that Doctor Favero or Lieutenant Albach would take a few questions..."
 
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Garfield went up the cramped elevator with the others to their personal chambers, uncomfortable with all the other candidates near him. After what felt like eternity, the elevator doors opened and Garfield rushed out. He hoped none of the others thought that was weird. They probably did. Pressing back those thoughts he looked for the door with his name on it. He found one on the door second the one at the end of the corridor.

AMADEUS, GARFIELD
​
Opening it, Garfield began to unpack. He placed his clothes in the cabinets, only to find that clothing had already been provided. Nonetheless he hung his clothes in the cabinet. Moving on, he decided to explore his small room. There wasn't much to do here; there was a desk, and he could send mail to people, not that he had anyone to send mail to. There was a TV though. He hadn't watched TV in a long time. Real TV anyway. The ones in the mental institute all replayed the same show for years.

Garfield decided to watch a few shows. Maybe he'd learn about the new trends people followed. That would help in socializing. He clicked the button on the remote and the TV switched on. He flipped through the channels to find something he was interested in. He ended up on a soap opera drama, deciding that he could learn a thing or two from that, not realizing that the social interactions were highly exaggerated and stereotypical.

He decided to watch until lunch, seeing as he was forced to stay in his room until then and he had nothing else to do. From the show, titled Star-crossed Lovers: A Pirate's Map to the Heart he learned some slang words people used and how people talked, not knowing that no one actually talks like that.
 
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Personally, Riley would have preferred to continue the conversation regardless; it was probably a good thing Alice was more socially conscious. He had to be silent and listen to the welcoming committee. From the brain surgery to the dictatorship he was now under, Riley honestly considered his odds of managing exactly what Alice had suggested: grabbing a shuttle and flying out of here. The overabundance of security didn't leave that as an option today, but he had a couple weeks before they cut into his skull.

His plans for running ceased when the soldier, Jonas Albach, stepped up. By the end of the speech Riley was sitting straight and watching the man so intently he could have been in a staring contest. Just as he said, the Lieutenant's words were not comforting; rather, Riley saw them as a challenge. The man spoke as though he expected everyone to be miserable with all the hoops they would be put through. The Project could go die in a corner for all Riley cared, but he was going to make life fun--for himself, and for the others as best he could.

Riley didn't know if Albach had purposefully issued such a challenge or if it was just Riley reacting to an otherwise boring speech. Either way, it was good motivation; Riley's one critique was that the Lieutenant shouldn't have said, "You are too important." If they needed Riley that desperately, he had some level of leverage. The fact he'd managed to put Kayla on the nursing staff was already proof of that. He was already thinking of other ways he might be able to use this small power when he followed the group off the elevator.

Riley found his name on the room in the southwest corner, right across from the women's bathroom. He kicked his luggage through the door and let it slide shut without him; Riley wanted to use what little time he had to learn faces. He swung around the corner to find who was opposite him. He found a ginger standing outside the door, and a quick glance at the nameplate identified her as Simone Rush. More importantly, she wasn't smiling and moisture was gathering at the corners of her eyes. Riley could not simply stand by after witnessing such a tragedy.

"Excuse me," Riley said, leaning himself against her room's wall. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"
 
...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:05 PM (Durness time table)
...

Alice Davern


Alice lost sight of Riley once they got upstairs. He probably went off to look for his room, she told herself. Although it would have been nice to chat awhile longer. She was enjoying having new acquaintances, more than she ever had before. Perhaps it was the quiet of this place that urged them all together, like frightened sheep at the hand of a dog.

I can talk to him later at lunch, Blake too, perhaps.

At it stood, she wanted to find her room and get some down time. All this 'social' stuff was draining at her energy reserves. She wandered up and down the halls, searching the little name tags that were beside each door, until she found her own, letting the door slide open before stepping inside. It automatically sealed behind her. That would be nice.

Her eyes scanned the room before her; mostly white, small, and boring. It was even worse than a motel room. It was clean and tidy, and incredibly functional, but it wasn't preferable, although she supposed nothing in this damned situation was. The bed was newly made, and looked comfortable enough, and there was a small desk with a PAD and some sort of holographic window. At first, the sight tricked her eyes- she wondered how she could be seeing outside from the middle of the fourth floor- but she could see the fading edges of the hologram, and the realization hit her like a sack of flour to the head. Still, it was a cool plaything. She dumped her bags on the bed and sat down on the desk, fidgeting with the little control system for the 'window'. She fiddled with the control settings until she found a window setting she liked; it now portrayed a coastline along the edges of a busy city. Much better than the drab front lawn of Illoca.

Then she began to investigate, examining every nook and cranny of the room. She saw no cameras, but that didn't mean there weren't any, just that they were good at hiding them, and the same went for recording devices, apart from the speaker and comm system by the door. The drawers held clothing that fit her just right, and she even spotted an extra set of sheets beneath the bed in a plastic container. She packed away the clothing she brought with her, slid off her shoes, and in the spur of the moment, unpacked all of the little items she had brought with her. Cleaning products went in the top shelf of the dresser. Her electronics were on the desk. The few photographs she carried along were set atop the dresser, a few on the small shelf carrying the television device. She set aside the money she brought in a drawer. She didn't know why she brought any money. There was nothing to spend it on here.

Some part of her itched and demanded, wanting to release her freaked out inner self, wanting to let go of her anxiety and mild fear, but she held it back. This place was new, and it was weird, and she definitely didn't like having to be here, but it was better than being drafted, and it was better than dying in a hole, and she shouldn't be thinking of how unlucky she was because she was fairly lucky and fortunate. She built a wall between herself and her paranoid thoughts and feelings, only allowing calm to swirl across her mind and encompass her. Being fretful would solve nothing here. She had to keep a cool head.

Then she laid back on the bed, arms outstretched on either side as she stared at the blank, white ceiling. She wasn't particularly tired, but she had to kill time. She sighed, and began counting the seconds until she fell asleep.


...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4
Illoca Facility, Durness
2:55 PM (Durness time table)
...

Simone "Phoenix" Rish


Simone rubbed furiously at her eyes, swiping away the tears before they could begin to roll. That was the last thing she needed, to be caught crying by these people. From the corner of her eye, she saw somebody approaching, and turned herself slightly away, swiping her palm across each eye before glancing back at the newcomer.

"Excuse me. Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?" He said, leaning against the wall. His words took a moment to sink into her brain, and she looked at him, incredulous. Was this guy serious? She asked herself. Who the heck walks up to a crying girl and asks something like that?

"What are you doing here?" She asked. He was here because all the candidates were here- stupid question, Simone. "What do you want from me?" She amended, her words coming off as more sullen and hostile than she intended them to. Her hands lifted to her eyes again in an attempt to smother the relentless wave of tears that were still threatening to spill over.

She glanced down the hall- nobody was looking at her, or even really talking for that matter, apart from the guide, who was speaking to another candidate: "There will indeed be some staff available at lunch for any questions you may have, although there is also some information to be found on your PADs in your rooms."- and then back at the stranger in front of her. So, it wasn't because they were mocking her. The guy came up on his own accord to annoy her. She started into her room, the sliding doors opening as she approached, and dragged her bags inside, putting them against the bed. The door stayed open, his presence keeping them so, but she wished they would just close in his face. Simone just wanted to be alone, not in the company of a one-shot flirty asshole.

She started to unpack her things, her back turned to him, hoping he would get the message soon enough. She did her best to ignore him, not even wanting to hear his response to her rude questionings. Her own rising anger pushed back her tears, and she welcomed it. Anger was an emotion she could handle much better than fear and sadness.

​
 
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"I was hoping for a smile; I didn't think you'd take such a cheesy pick-up line seriously." Riley stood outside the doorway, his foot forward just enough to keep the door from sliding shut. "I'll be more careful next time. Anyway, I'm on the other side of that door there," Riley stated, nodding his head at the door connecting the two rooms, "so I thought I should at least introduce myself. My name is Riley Stark, and you can call me either of those. I like supersonic velocities, savory cuisine, and songs under the stars."

He wasn't oblivious to the cold shoulder he was receiving; Riley simply chose to ignore it. He wanted to know more about Simone. His first line had been a blunder (she was far more serious than he expected), but that was all part of meeting a new person. You throw it out there, see what sticks, and discard what doesn't. That's why Riley could smile even though Simone was willing him to disappear: she didn't dislike him personally, they just didn't know each other yet.
 
"There will indeed be some staff available at lunch for any questions you may have, although there is also some information to be found on your PADs in your rooms."

It sounded like that was the best answer Elric would get at the moment. He nodded and muttered a "Thank you, sir" before stepping forward to find his own room. Most of the candidates were already in their rooms or just entering them. Down at the other end of the hall, there stood a young man with long brown hair talking to some girl Elric couldn't see from here, but he paid them no mind after noticing them. He located his own room a moment later and entered without a fuss.

The best word to describe the place was "austere." Everything was white, plain, and clean. At least there was a false window by the desk to give the room a bit of life, but his attention went next to the PAD on the desk. He left his suitcase by the wall and strode forward to pick up and power on the device. As promised, the first thing he saw when he turned the thing on was an information sheet, but after scanning it, he determined that it only contained details of their rooming here. No deeper information about the Project itself was to be found. That's a shame... Guess I'll just have to wait. Ah, but the document had informed him that there was a library of sorts one floor down... Perhaps after lunch he could slip down there and see what he could find. In the meantime, however, he could get unpacked. There wasn't much to unpack, but after organizing his clothing and other essentials, he did want to make sure his laptop was set up comfortably at the desk. He located a power source and powered up the machine without any trouble. The first thing he thought to do was check his online access. He seemed to have a connection, but to his dismay, all of his most frequented sites came up as blocked. No email. No news. Not even the coding sites and forums he relied on so heavily. He sighed. Well, I guess no contacting the guys about continuing work after all. Or getting much of anything on my Ginger list done...

His face fell. He'd been researching alternate voice simulation options for Ginger before he left; following through on that, as well as many other improvements he'd taken note of, would have to wait six months or more, until he was free to research and download to his heart's content once again. He fancied that Ginger wanted a less robotic voice, but he couldn't have known for sure if she really wanted anything. She was a digital construct. He couldn't allow himself to forget that. He couldn't allow himself to forget that...
​
---​

Sleep wasn't happening. Blake groaned and rolled off the bed at last. He had thought he was getting tired, but apparently he wasn't tired enough to drift off. After reaching towards the ceiling and giving his back a good stretch, he stood slowly and moved to the desk, sitting down in the chair in front of it. The provided PAD didn't seem all too different from his tablet, though he had to admit it was a more modern device he would have liked to take home with him after this was over. The first thing he saw on the PAD was a document listing the expected contents of his room—he really didn't care enough to double-check everything as asked—and some policies. It sounded like his access to the outside world would be quite limited. He flipped open the PAD's browser and verified that he couldn't get to his email, and that was really the only thing he'd cared about. Good thing we said goodbye...

He folded his legs up into the chair with him and put his forehead on his knees. He couldn't call her his girlfriend anymore. He had to start calling her his ex. It was the most accurate term. The two of them had known full well that in the worst case scenario, zero contact for a full six months, neither of them would be happy. They had made the right decision, or so he hoped. A clean cut. But that didn't stop tight heat from rising in his chest anew. A moment later he could feel the inevitable moisture in his eyes. He'd tried to be noble, tried to assure her that she didn't have to be a martyr, but at the same time, being a martyr on his own end was the only thing that felt right. Hypocritical? Yes. Altruistic? He hoped so, but he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was the fact that this hurt, and he could do nothing. Tears soaked into the denim covering his knees. He shook with a small, quiet sob after a moment, and then another, but after that he was still. He hugged his legs and stayed like that for a very long time.​
 
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...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4, Dining Room
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:05 PM (Durness time table)
...

Alice Davern


"And this is the candidate eating lounge. It is not a cafeteria, and only candidates may eat here. There is a bot in the kitchen that will help prepare meals- for now, there is already a meal set up for everyone to enjoy. There are set mealtimes every day: Five thirty in the morning through six will be for breakfast, lunch at noon, and dinner at eight. Most times, you will find meals already prepared, although after classes, candidates are expected to prepare their own. When you are finished, please do clean up after yourselves and return to your rooms or the commons. For tonight, you can head to the commons and find your schedules for the next month there."

The guide had gathered the group of people and led them to the kitchen, where there were three tables, each seating four people, with a place on each and food in the middle of each table. The room led directly into the kitchen, which was small, but big enough for a few people to maneuver in. It had a fully stocked refrigeration unit, and stocked cabinets. The bot sat idle in the corner. It was a fully sized robot, complete with arms, but it hovered instead of walking, and held a blank expression. It kind of freaked Alice out.

She promptly took a seat near the door as the guide left, and examined the food on the table. Sandwiches. A salad mix. Some sort of grilled meat and a starch. Not too bad, she thought to herself, but definitely boring. Some part of her expected dry, old prison food. This stuff looked... good, if not her preferred type of food. She wasn't sure if she should just dig in or if the other candidates would be the kind of people that require a person to wait before you can eat, so instead she watched them sit down, spotting Blake and Riley. She watched as a redhead wandered to the furthest corner of the room before taking a seat- tough luck to her. Somebody was going to sit next to her, there were only twelve seats and twelve candidates.

After a minute, urged on by her growling stomach, Alice reached forward and grabbed one of the sandwiches and bit into it. It was filled with an unknown meat, probably native to the planet, but akin to a roast beef, and other vegetables and sauces. Damn good stuff. She took another, quite large bite, gulping it down with the water provided at the table.​
 
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Elric took a few moments to scan the cafeteria before choosing a seat. Although he could recognize some of his fellow candidates by sight now, the only person he'd spoken to at all so far was Blake. Ah, to be as young and carefree as that boy had seemed... He looked around the room again, his expression turning sour. Am I seriously the only person here not in their twenties? I feel old. I'm sure I look like the oldest person in the room. He envied Blake. He envied the other youngest-looking ones, not for their attractive faces or their longer lifespans ahead of them, but for their innocence. They hadn't lived enough years for life to slap them repeatedly in the face.

His attention was drawn towards the movement of vibrant red hair in his peripheral vision. The woman said hair belonged to looked withdrawn and broody, certainly older than her early twenties. His heart clenched in empathy. Now that's a person who's seen some shit. Since he didn't have any better ideas, he crossed the room and took a seat beside her. "Hey," he said as he sat down. It was a noncommittal, vaguely timid greeting. Maybe it would break the ice without coming across as pushy.

---​

Blake had come out into the dining area looking grumpy. His mood was still dull, for one, but more importantly, he was hungry, and Blake was the type to get very cranky when hungry. He wasn't a fan of the notion that his daily schedule from here on out would involve early breakfasts and late dinners, but he supposed there was nothing he could do about that. His eyes drifted to the plates of food on one of the tables and remained glued there until he received the cue to pick a seat, snapping out of the trance. He swept his eyes over the room. Hmm. Well, Alice seemed as good a person to sit next to as any. He pulled out a chair next to her and sat down, but after doing so he wasted no time transferring a piece of the grilled mystery meat, one of the sandwich triangles that was most likely filled with another mystery meat, and a respectable helping of salad onto his plate. He dug into the meal with gusto, sampling the sandwich first, and a moment later he emitted a hum of pleasant surprise. Noticing that Alice had started on one of the sandwiches as well, he hurried to chew and swallow the mouthful before speaking up. "Not sure what this is, but it's good, huh?" he said with a smile, already feeling better. It was a throwaway comment, but Blake never shied from small talk.
 
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Savannah Chapman


Level 4 Mess Hall
3:23pm
---
​
She'd been late. Damn it, late. Late. Late. Not that she cared beyond what she perceived was a widely accepted social convention among the others; punctuality was stressed. Still, it had been her own fault for her lateness. Either she misjudged the dosage or the STEM they had given her had been stronger than her constitution could process through in a reasonable amount of time. That night would call for experimentation to void further blunders: late to the first lunch was, she hoped, within reason. Missing training would obviously cause issues, not the least of which would be a withdrawal in support of her addiction. She couldn't let that happen. Wouldn't let that happen.​

In either case, it seemed she had not missed all that much in the twenty minutes that had passed since the lunch call. All the candidates, rather most of them, sat around chatting and eating. No surprises, naturally, but better that it was this slow than at an important time. Her appearance had improved noticeably since their arrival. Her hair had been, for the most part, brushed aside and straightened out. Her eyes were no longer bloodshot and darkened. Her gait was more similar to actual walking than shuffling. The biggest change, though, was the change from a hostile stance to a rather, at least be comparison, accepting one; her shoulders hunched, her head was not focused on the ground, and she no longer shook or jerked.​

With a smirk, Savannah walked towards the server automaton, allowing it to place the day's meal on her tray - no line. This table had been entirely empty, and she hoped it would stay that way if but for the duration of the lunch.​

What happened to being sociable?

I believe I've done what I can for the day.
​



Nicholas Wilkinson


Level 4 Mess Hall
3:06pm
---
​
Nicholas had been glad for the change in scenery from the tight confines of the ship, then the shuttle, then the research center. By contrast, the mess hall was a grand ballroom. He'd shuffled through the cramped room and viewed - quite by surprise - the automated platform that could even speak to him. Their one, if rather decrepit, automaton back home had been only able to decipher between 'yes' and 'no' without much skill. Even then, its use had been purely out of a sense of duty to the rest of humanity, a reminder of where they came from. Later it had come to represent the crumbling empire that had left them behind, or so they assumed. He did not care what they had chosen a token to symbolize, as he finally realized how far humanity had propelled itself beyond that of his ancestors.​

After taking a moment to glance over the machine, Nicholas strode forward to the array of tables that sad in rather uniform pattern among the room. He took a seat at the nearest table with other candidates and did his best to talk to people, finding it rather awkward to reach a common ground for conversation. Then he realized, the project. They were all involved in the same ordeal. However, he did imagine that their culture found a certain rude nature in interrupting conversation, and so he waited. Out of uncertainty or politeness, he could not tell which.​

 
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Garfield switched off the TV and made his way to the elevator, taking it down to the candidates' eating lounge. A fancy name for a private cafeteria, he thought to himself. The food had already been prepared for them; sandwich triangles, salads and some kind of meat. It looked far better than the ones on the ship, and definitely better than the food from the mental facility, which was always some type of gruel or soup. He couldn't wait to dig in, but he thought that would be rude until everyone sat down.

His earlier plans to begin anew his social life was thrown out the window when Garfield saw all the candidates gathered together. Back in the mental institute he'd known all the doctors and psychologists ever since he was a kid, but these were all strangers. He decided to do it next time. Note: watch more TV. The TV would help him learn. He decided to take a seat. As he sat down, he heard the man next to him talk to another woman a seat away. "Not sure what this is, but it's good, huh?"

Garfield took a sandwich from the tray and took a bite. It was much better than anything he'd tasted, that was for sure.
 
Briefly Riley considered approaching Simone again. He decided against it; her opinion had likely been decided by one mistaken attempt at humor, so pressing her would only make it worse. It was a depressing thought, but Riley could wait until events pushed them together. Instead, Riley sat down beside Alice. "Nice to see you again, Alice. Friends of yours?" Riley asked, glancing at Blake across the table and Garfield to his right. "Riley Stark. Pleasure meeting you."

Riley loaded his plate so completely that the only visible part of the dish was its edge. Secretly he was relieved the others had dished up first; it let him know they weren't insistent on propriety. Etiquette said to start with the salad and so on, but Riley hated standing on etiquette. Especially when he wanted to savor the roast right away. He sliced a corner off and bit into it, then closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy. "I'll give that bot credit: this is delicious. Leave it to the UPN to have imported spices for their important lab rats."


The food at each table was the same, so Bao Qin would have to choose where to sit based on company. Alice and Blake were nearest the door, but that table had already been filled. Farthest from the door was Chapman Ma'am (looking far better than she had on the Absolution), but both seats adjacent to her had been taken and none of them seemed eager to speak. That left the center, and oddly enough Bao Qin was attracted to it. A man sat there with scars marring his face; his appearance reminded her of home. The most peculiar emotion pulled Bao Qin to sit on the man's left--it must have been homesickness, or nostalgia, though Bao Qin's self-evaluation wasn't enough to be conclusive of that.

Bao Qin paused to give a quarter-bow to those already seated. "I am Xue Bao Qin of Shu Han. I entrust myself to your care." With that, she seated herself to Nicholas's left. Bao Qin folded her hands in front of her and began to chant--almost sing--the traditional prayer for eating a meal together. "It is blessed that we meet, so the meat we bless. Thank you, creature; well wishes in your next life." With the blessing concluded, finally Bao Qin moved a few small portions onto her plate.
 
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Nicholas Wilkinson


---
---
​
The arrival of Bao Qin had changed Nicholas' outlook on the table, as it offered a chance for him to speak. He had committed himself to be, at the very least, more sociable than the short-haired one sitting by herself. So far he hadn't been able to offer that view in the slightest. Her greeting had been similar enough to his own, though they certainly had not blessed food in any way - particularly that statement at the end 'in your next life.' Pushing the idea to back of his mind, Nicholas turned to face her, again feeling that nudging feeling that she, like himself, did not belong here. Of course, they were, and he felt there was a reason for her inclusion: not his own.​

"Apologies," He began, "but I am unfamiliar with the correct response."​

A pause ensued, lasting only long enough for him to take a drink from the plain, plastic cups that had been handed out. "I am Nicholas Wilkinson, firstborn of the recently unearthed New Melbourne." Typically he would have added 'official warchief to the Enclave,' however that was no longer strictly true. He was sergeant Wilkinson, Melbourne First and Only as of the present in title if even that applied. He attempted to match his greeting to hers as best as possible, realizing he had come short in the grace she had mustered. His tone had been a tad gruff by comparison, impersonal a better word he decided. It was better than Chapman. Better than Chapman.​

 
...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4, Mess Hall
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:15 PM (Durness time table)
...

Simone "Phoenix" Rish


Simone made her way into the mess hall/kitchenette warily, muscles slightly tensed as if poised to run, her entire being on edge. As if on instinct, she made her way to the furthest corner of the room, seating herself in the chair furthest away from the rest of the candidates, although it occurred to her moments too late that there happened to be exactly twelve seats at the three tables total, and exactly twelve candidates in the room. Unless three people happened to sit on the floor or stand elsewhere, and unless those three people were the otherwise would-be table mates at her table, she was going to have to sit next to at least two other people, and across from a third. It also implied forced conversations.

She picked at the food quietly as people began to approach and take seats; one male to her side said a curt "Hey" in her direction after he sat down. He seemed generally older than most of the other candidates. Older than Simone, possibly, although she couldn't really tell. Other than the beginnings of conversation, he didn't seem to be prying or pushing into conversation- she thought back to Riley, the stranger that appeared at her dorm. As bad as she felt about shoving him off in quite possibly the rudest way possible for her, she still felt bothered by his abrupt introduction. Needless to say, it startled her, and startling put Simone instantly on edge. But she amended to apologize- just later, perhaps after they ate.

Glancing at the new person seated beside her from the corner of her eyes, Simone made a snap decision to try an initiate conversation. It probably won't go well, she thought. But I might as well try.

"Hi." She said, still picking at her food, not even looking up to try and make eye contact. "How are you?"


...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4, Dining Room
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:05 PM (Durness time table)
...

Alice Davern


It wasn't long after Alice had taken her seat that Blake had found his way into the chair next to her, loading his plate with mystery meat and vegetables before digging in. "Not sure what this is, but it's good, huh?" He said. Thank the heaven's he had the decency to chew and swallow before speaking. It was always an admirable habit.

Alice smiled coolly, taking a bite of her own mystery grilled meat before answering. "I just hope it isn't something disgusting, although with the food that's found it's way into my mouth in the past, I shouldn't complain. I do prefer Earth animals though. So much more... normal. And even though I've never been on the planet, I still find myself comparing everything I taste to chicken or beef." It didn't appear to be just her that did it, either. Restaurants and cafe's on foreign planets tended to have descriptions next to each dish, labeling what kind of taste they held. "Koayl- A carnivorous animal that tastes just like beef, but a little tangier!" Admittedly, it probably made things easier at the start of space exploration, when every colony brought along cows and chickens to start their farms with, but now that every colonized planet seemed to have it's own metropolis and government, it was pointless as all hell. Nobody ate chicken anymore.

Two newcomers then sat down at their same table: Riley, and a man she didn't know. The stranger said nothing, instead taking ahold of one of the sandwiches before taking a bite, while Riley dove straight into conversation.

"Nice to see you again, Alice. Friends of yours? Riley Stark. Pleasure meeting you." He seemed to load his dish even more so than Blake or Alice had done, savoring the food like a professional judge on a food show. Alice almost wanted to laugh- but instead, she just grinned. "I'll give that bot credit: this is delicious. Leave it to the UPN to have imported spices for their important lab rats."

"I'm glad they are sparing no expense for us. I'm losing six months worth of pay being here. I should at least get compensated in food!" She exclaimed. "This is Blake- Can't say we know each other much, but we did hang out on the ship. Taught me how to play a nine-ball. Not that I was any good at it. And, I don't think I know you," She said, looking over at the stranger. She offered her hand to him, across the table and the food on it. "I'm Alice Davern. You are?"

As if names particularly mattered in here. A name wouldn't tell anybody around this table, or in the room for that matter, who their new housemates were, but it was nice to have a name to a face, Alice thought. And it wasn't like they were ever going to see eachother again outside of this stupid Project anyway, right?

​
 
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Blake just shrugged in response to Alice's opinions about meat. He didn't fault her for comparing every new variety of animal flesh to a baseline understanding of a few; he had a feeling most people couldn't help but do something like that. He didn't particularly care as long as the taste and texture were pleasant in their own right.

The two of them had been joined by two others at the table by now. The slightly older man who sat at Blake's side looked unremarkable, but the one who positioned himself across from him looked to be roughly his own age, quite attractive, but most importantly very familiar. Blake eyed the man in puzzlement as he took another bite of his sandwich. He could have sworn he knew this guy from somewhere. The question was where...

"Riley Stark. Pleasure meeting you."

The lightbulb in Blake's head snapped on. His eyes widened at the same moment he emitted a startled noise that came out as a short, high-pitched hum through his mouthful of sandwich. He looked over the newcomer's face again, desperately comparing every feature to what he remembered of the famous racer. They looked exactly alike. This was real. Blake was in the presence of a celebrity.

He tried to hurry to clear his mouth, but his moment of shock had delayed him, and by now Riley and Alice were chatting as if there were nothing unusual about this situation. It sounded like Alice had met Riley already, but even so, Blake would have expected her to act at least a little bit more excited than she appeared to be. It was quite possible that she had no idea who he was, as surprising as that might have been. He finally got the mouthful of food down his throat right about when Alice introduced him. Supposing he'd have to tolerate that, he belatedly dipped his head towards Riley at the introduction. But she was about to bring their fourth table member into the conversation, still completely cutting Riley off, at least in Blake's opinion. He took advantage of the brief lull in the conversation and spoke up, moving his hand toward Alice with the palm facing her in a gesture as if he was holding her back or commanding her to stop. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa there, Alice!" he said as he did so, maybe too loudly in the small cafeteria. "Slow down! We don't just brush off the Riley Stark!" There was an excited grin on his face by this point, and he turned back to the celebrity, eyes alight, and offered his hand. "Blake Lianson, sir. It is a tremendous honor to meet you and grace your presence. And may I just say, you look even sexier in person." He pulled away from the handshake and sat back in his chair, visibly taking a moment to calm down. "Phew. Okay. I got that out of my system." He turned to their unnamed comrade, his face now softer than it had been and more than a little apologetic. "Terribly sorry, sir. Please continue." He gestured to the man to indicate that he could now introduce himself.

---​

"Hi. How are you?"

If that wasn't stiff and awkward, Elric didn't know what was. He almost regretted trying to get this red-haired woman to talk to him. She clearly wasn't comfortable. She hadn't even looked up from her plate. But the conversation had been started, no matter how shallow it sounded at the moment, and it would be strange not to follow through. "Uh, good, good," he said. "Same as usual. Heh... Guess it hasn't really sunk in yet." Well, either that or Elric didn't care what happened to him in life anymore. "And you, you doing all right? You look a little..." He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence politely.

But a shout, or at least a louder voice than should have been used in this room, rang from behind him. He flinched a bit from the noise before turning around. It sounded like Blake's voice, and the boy seemed to be talking about someone named Riley Stark. He craned his neck, trying to see what was going on. The name sounded familiar to him, but he associated it with nothing. Do we have a famous person here? I guess that's exciting...
 
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Bao Qin nodded to Wilkinson; she realized few would know of Shu Han's customs here, so she would not blame anyone for failing to meet decorum. That he could recognize his lack of understanding was a credit to the man. "Unearthed is an odd way to say it. Unspaced would perhaps be closer, or unlost." A tiny smile pulled at Bao Qin's lips to show it was a jest, not a correction. She was unsure of where to proceed next with the conversation. Speaking of politics would prove hopeless, and mundane comments on their current surroundings would lead nowhere. They were not well enough acquainted to share personal histories. Ultimately Bao Qin could see no connection she shared with this man. Unless... unless it was the one that first drew her to the table.

"Do you speak openly of your scars?"


Riley couldn't keep the grin off his face--not that he tried. "Thank you. I was starting to worry. It's reassuring to know someone has heard of me. But..." Riley leaned forward and lowered his voice, a conspiratorial air about him. "Between you and me, 'sexiest' is in the nurses' office." Riley offered Blake a wink, then settled back in his chair to continue the meal. "So, Blake. You're a fan of racing?" Bite. Chew. Swallow. "I'd offer taking you up for a spin, but The Rogue is impounded. I asked them to take it back to Necria, so if all goes well you can visit in six months. Of course that offer is extended to you, too, Alice. Flying in a racer is nothing like traveling by shuttle."
 
...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4, Dining Room
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:10 PM (Durness time table)
...

Alice Davern


Blake sprung into action faster than Alice could blink at the mention of Riley Stark. Alice frowned in confusion as he started raving like a child seeing their favorite TV star on the street. "Slow down! We don't just brush off the Riley Stark!" He exclaimed, offering a hand for a handshake. "Blake Lianson, sir. It is a tremendous honor to meet you and grace your presence. And may I just say, you look even sexier in person. Phew. Okay. I got that out of my system." Then he turned back to the stranger at their table. "Terribly sorry, sir. Please continue."

Alice felt like giggling at Blake's sudden interjection, but did her best to hold back her laughter as Riley continued speaking, a grin across his face. "Thank you. I was starting to worry. It's reassuring to know someone has heard of me. But..." He paused, leaning forward towards Blake, like he had a secret to tell. "Between you and me, 'sexiest' is in the nurses' office. So, Blake. You're a fan of racing? I'd offer taking you up for a spin, but The Rogue is impounded. I asked them to take it back to Necria, so if all goes well you can visit in six months. Of course that offer is extended to you, too, Alice. Flying in a racer is nothing like traveling by shuttle."

Racing fans, eh? So Riley Stark was a racer, apparently on Necria. No wonder Alice had never heard of him. She couldn't even follow sports- space or otherwise- on her own home planets. She tended to turn off the TV and spend her days uploading videos and writing code instead of bothering with athletics, although she supposed racing wasn't as athletic as it was competitive. Still, the idea of sitting next to a possibly famous person was invigorating. She had expected this strange project to be filled with nobodies, not somebodies with a career and a reputation to lose. And, if this was supposed to be a top secret project, why would they bother with famous space racers with weirdly attractive bodies? Why not just take the nobodies? They seemed less likely to spill the beans.

Alice dropped her chin onto her palm, elbow resting on the table. "So, you race, then, I assume?" She asked. "I wouldn't mind coming to visit. I'm not exactly one for this sort of activity, but any game that doesn't involve a ball is one I'm interested in enough to try- not that the nine-ball was boring." She said with a small grin. "Sorry I didn't note that there was a celebrity in the room. I can be quite an introvert, sometimes." Then she leaned back up, brushing her hair back over her shoulders before taking another bite of the food on the plate before her, glancing back at the stranger at the table. She didn't want to make him feel unwelcome.


...
April 24th, 2759
Level 4, Mess Hall
Illoca Facility, Durness
3:16 PM (Durness time table)
...

Simone "Phoenix" Rish


Simone pushed her food around on her plate as she waited for a response, which didn't take all that long to come. "Uh, good, good. Same as usual. Heh... Guess it hasn't really sunk in yet. And you, you doing all right? You look a little..."

She peered up, raising an eyebrow at Elric. She opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly cut off by an exclamation from another table that caused her to jump, eyes widening, her knee hitting the table. "Slow down! We don't just brush off the Riley Stark!" Her new companion craned around to look at the commotion, as did a few other candidates as well. The others at the table in question didn't look too alarmed, especially not the male whom the words were directed to- Riley Stark- who simply smiled in reply as the excited guy continued speaking. It was just someone hyping over some celebrity or other. Taking a deep breath, Simone made herself relax, sinking back into her seat. Simone never made a habit of recognizing celebrities. The only people she recognized these days were military guys, and you didn't go around shouting about their presence, either, unless you wanted a swat in the head and a hundred push-ups, neither of which she wanted. I suppose that makes me pretty lame, she thought. I don't even recognize famous people anymore...

"I'm fine," she spoke after the shouting had gone down and people returned to their food. "I guess the situation hasn't really sunk in for me yet, either." She said vaguely, lifting her glass of water and taking a long drink as an excuse not to say more. She didn't know what else to say. What could she say? That she was an ex-soldier pilot that jumped at every loud noise and shout, even in a stupid excuse for a cafeteria? She was sure that that would make her tons of friends. Right.
​
 
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Nicholas Wilkinson


---
---​

Nicholas allowed himself a short chuckle at the comment. It wasn't entirely sincere, as he had missed the point to it that had made it humorous. Taking a brief moment to think over it, his face brightened as he made the connection between 'unearthed' and 'unspaced.' Not the wittiest of comments he had heard in his life, but of course he had heard worst jests from some of the younger warriors in his time. Taking another drink from the cup, he turned back to Bao Qin, beginning slowly; the question had taken him by surprise, as he was not accustomed to having to recount the tale.​

"On my home world, it is accustomed that the Firstborn." He paused, feeling that the use of the honorific would seem illogical. "Those of us who adopted a culture alien to our own, rather. It is a usual occurrence that on the dawn of winter, every able bodied warrior hunt before the season turns. No blackpowder weapons are permitted, nor is armor beyond cloth and hide.​

"The first." He ran a hand over the shorter two of the four lines, the one that marred the right half of his upper and lower lip. "Came from my eighth such hunt. I was reckless, not heeding the warning snarls of the beast we were hunting. This particular creature was an ill-tempered reptile of sorts, one we had seen many of but had neglected to give a proper name in our home tongue. The Firstborn simply refered to it as vimmick. 'ill hunger.' Within moments it had leaped forth and managed an easy blow to my face. I would have died if not for the creature misjudging the distance between us.​

"These," His hand mentioned to the two longer scratches across his eye, the skin surrounding it pale and tight. The eye above it was equally damaged, being milky pale and unresponsive. "were from a more personal matter, near around a year previous. A man, Firstborn as myself, insulted my household, I cannot remember over what. Taking offense, my father chose to have me fight in his stead in the duel that ensued. I was more than a match for him, but I allowed him the..." He paused as he thought of a word that described the feeling without sounding egotistical. "Satisfaction of marking me before I brought him to his knees. When it came to deliver the finishing blow, I could not bring myself so low as to claim his life. Though, it was my duty. I did so without a second thought."
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