You rise, drifting to where the duffel bag from a few days before lies packed with nutrient cubes. All of them are still intact, wrapped in foil. By your count, there's thirty packages within the bag. You shrug it over your shoulder and head to the elevator. You pass by a number of lower levels, the lights dim in the night to aid with circadian rhythms. You stop into the algae tanks, finding a skeleton crew of those who prefer night shifts scrubbing the surface out and disinfecting it. There are not many workers, but the work strikes you as the sort of thing that apprentices are assigned to do when there's nothing else -- to keep them out of trouble and make sure they earn their rations. Seeing no other work available, you strip off your coat.
[3] Your assistance is unnecessary, and when they realize who you are, seems to hinder more than help. They start performing the work as precisely as possible, out of fear of reprimand, and after an hour or so of their mumbled apologies, you take your leave. There isn't much to -do-.
[5] The Crusaders are all resting, the ships loaded with the supplies they need for their extended operations. An officer makes a few last-minute checks on the various supplies and weapons -- but the soldiers are all sleeping. Dead to world. Nabbing a few hours of respite, sure they will have difficulty getting rest when they are operating.
With nothing better to do, you decide to check on Eric. Only to find that his medical bed is empty. An exhausted medic looks at you, then refers you to a recreational floor. Surprised, you head up, finding Eric is the only one awake. His chest is still covered in bloodied bandages, but he sits beneath a set of weights, exercising despite his unhealed wounds.
"Pheobe. Or do you want me to call you Pheonix?" He questions, with a rasp, exhaling a heavy, pained sigh through his gritted teeth as he completes another rep. "Or Alphira? Or Mother?"
[7] He's not pleased to see you, and for a moment, you consider leaving. Perhaps its the boredom, or guilt, but you stand there, facing his scorn.
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 259316 times)