Still Waters: A Survival-Horror RP (IC / OPEN)

[Beiarusia]

STILL WATERS



• OOC •
-| The Pub: a P2tM RP Group |-

T H E M E

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International Waters

The Melody had left port the night before. A layover in Nassau. An influx of 2,500 vacationers, American mostly, perusing the tacky gift shops and semi-exotic beaches, the questionable tourist traps, and the towns whose entire existence was dependent on outsiders with more money than sense. Come evening they disappeared as quickly as they had arrived, returning to the floating resort to set sail for Bermuda, the voyage a striking decadence of music and food and unwarranted celebration atop calm waters.

Penny hated it.

She hated the ocean; she hated the crowds of people and the claustrophobia; she especially hated having been dragged along on this farce of a family vacation.

She wanted nothing more than to stay locked away inside her cabin, to seclude herself from the noise and the unflatteringly hot sunshine, but mom disagreed, and it was far easier to do as told than to partake in the inevitable argument. So now she was up on the upper decks, staring out absentmindedly to an unremarkable ocean. Irritated and baking underneath the sun despite the breeziness of her tank-top and denim shorts. An unnoticed speck of a girl lost amongst the crowds of men, women, children, and geriatrics flooding the shops and bars and pools. Penny tried to keep her sanity by drawing in her sketchbook but thus far had only managed a few undefined scribbles.

The girl sighed, considered for a moment simply jumping overboard in dramatic fashion, then skulked across the deck in search of someplace less chaotic. A crewman in uniform passed her, in a hurry, but not so much in a hurry as to be running. He excused himself as he bumped shoulders with a woman before scurrying down a stairwell to the lower decks, pausing only to ask another crewman the whereabouts of Koenig.

He found the South African doing routine maintenance below the waterline on Deck A, an area off-limits to the public. At least he was trying to look busy.

The crewman, a youngish man called Villeneuve, addressed Koenig with a voice accented in Caribbean French. "Hey, Mister Andi. Captain needs you to check a faulty sensor down in the engine room, and before you ask, Fossberg is tied up currently that he is. That is to say he ate some bad shrimp last night." He gave Koenig a thumbs-up and was already hurrying off to complete his own duties before a response could be given. "And keep your radio on. Can't be chasing you down all the time."

Villeneuve took the elevator back to the upper decks, stumbling into a young girl as he departed with only a rushed apology in his wake. Penny said nothing as she boarded the elevator alongside a dozen others, crushed into one corner as she descended. The lower decks were shielded from the sunshine at the very least.

Yet the mid-decks were even more crowded if that was possible.

She resigned herself to the library on Deck 06, the Cornerstone Library, a nook tucked away and seemingly forgotten. Peace and quiet, or as quiet as one could be on a cruise ship. A few others had sought sanctuary here as well. Bookish introverts having made the fatal mistake of leaving the private safety of home. Surprisingly some were reading actual paper books but others were content to play on their cellphones or tablets. A few others conversed quietly amongst themselves, aware of the rules of any library despite the impossible enforcement of silence in a place where noise was as pervasive as it was constant.

Penny made herself comfortable atop a padded bench, the wall behind her decorated in various posters advertising, among other things, a live-performance of some musician tonight on the upper decks. More noise. More crowds. Mom would probably drag her along to be normal regardless of their mutual distaste of one another.

She tried again to distract herself in her sketchbook, mechanical pencil on paper, and, again, there was no such luck.

But the air conditioning was pleasant so there was that.

[Lessoni]

Jackie looked around his room. It was nice, for sure, but too small. And he noticed his bed wasn't particularly close to an outlet. Small thing, but irritating. He'd noticed he was a little more irritable lately, and he thought he knew why.

He left the room, heading to the main deck. He didn't have any real destination in mind. He was just looking to walk, and to get the layout of the ship in his head. Even with his awful sense of direction, it was worth trying at least.

Jackie moved through the ship like a ghost, seeming to not even push air in front of himself. He reached the side of the ship, and stopped to simply stare out over the ocean. It was oddly peaceful, seeing the ocean. Tranquil, almost. Only the noise of the ship broke the illusion he was alone.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Andi Koenig
A Deck

"Hey, Mister Andi. Captain needs you to check a faulty sensor down in the engine room, and before you ask, Fossberg is tied up currently that he is. That is to say he ate some bad shrimp last night."

Andi gave a sigh as he began packing up his tools for the trip to the bottom of the ship. He hated the engine room with a passion; so he had always passed it off on Fossberg when an issue arose. However, that wasn't an option at the present. So the South African picked up his box in his right and set off aft for the nearest downward set of stairs; flexing his scarred left hand all the way.

The mechanic stepped through a door and entered a slightly bustling corridor as crew members moved about their routines in a more subdued manner than the passengers on the decks above. So it was a simple manner of joining the flow before stepping off at the appropriate hatch. A steep descent and a utilitarian corridor later found Andi stepping into the engine control room; where the closest thing he had to friends monitored the massive engines.

"Glad you showed up Foss-" The light Italian accent of Amando stopped as the engineer turned from his display and his eyebrows rose in confusion. "Andi?"

The second engineer in the room looked up from her daily report and did a double-take. Nadia frowned before turning back to her workspace and picking up a scrap of paper with a string of numbers and letters scrawled on it.

"Sorry Andi. Thought they would send Fossberg." The German was apologetic as Amando gave a sad smile.

"S'alright" Andi said as he accepted the paper and made his way into the engineer room itself. The heat was smothering as the mechanic followed the designation on the paper to the sensor. Finding the sensor in an isolated corner of the room. The South African set down his toolbox and begun the process of stripping away the covering; trying to ignore the grinding and pervasive sounds of the engine. A familiar tingling in Andi's left hand caused the mechanic to stop briefly and clench his fist experimentally. The fist curled halfway and froze into a scarred claw. Huffing in irritation, Andi used his left forearm to balance himself and began probing the innards of the sensor.

*****
Two Hours Later
Sweating and frustrated, Andi rebooted the sensor and began the process of replacing the covering. His hand still a frozen claw. Securing the cover, Andi turned to stow his wrench when he caught sight of a hat sitting on top of his toolbox. The hat was a green bush hit with a brim pinned up and a golden-brown feather affixed at an angle.

Andi gave a crew of alarm as he recoiled and hit his head. Dazed, he fell to the deck and saw darkness spread across his vision. The background noise faded away into a dull hum.

"Aaaaandiiiii," The voice was distorted and whispering, coming from seemingly everywhere; yet Andi recognized it. He heard it every night as he tried to sleep. Then the voice was in his ear. "Andi."

Startling, Andi sat up and darted his glance around. He found nothing around him; a look at the toolbox saw the hat missing. Dazed and bleeding from a small cut on his head; the mechanic picked himself up and found his hand had unfrozen from the claw it was. With hurried movements, Andi collected his tools and rushed out of the engine room. The South African didn't pause in the control room as he fled for the A Deck stairs.

It was only another set of stairs to the first deck after that; where the infirmary sat. A place where he could get treatment for his cut and revel in the cold that seemed standard for all medical facilities.

Andi could use the cold.

Sorry if I went overboard (pun intended). If I f'd up, please let me know and I will remove the offending content

[Talchyon]

Melody, aft deck
Kathryn Hunter

Over two thousand people. And almost all of them with a figurative dollar sign floating above their head. Just as it should be. Surveying the people on deck, Ms. Kathryn Hunter was pleased. So far, so good. Corporate was going to be able to market the Melody well for future cruises, if this were any indication. There had been a slight dip across the board in cruise tourists for some time now. All the liners had been affected. Kathryn herself thought the reason was obvious - the large numbers of Baby Boomers that were still around were getting more medical issues. Though sometimes that worked for people wanting to scratch that one last thing off the bucket list and book a cruise. However, with more Boomers seeking medical attention, there would be a drop in the averages of paying customers.

So far, though, the Melody didn't seem to have that as an issue. Lots of people had been interested in the maiden voyage of this luxury vessel. As well they should have been. It had everything you could want, traveling to exotic locations you didn't see in North Carolina or Iowa or New Hampshire.

And it was Kathryn's job to oversee operations.

They just didn't know it yet.

Lost in thought, Kathryn was rudely brought to attention as she was jostled by someone running by.

International Waters

The girl sighed, considered for a moment simply jumping overboard in dramatic fashion, then skulked across the deck in search of someplace less chaotic. A crewman in uniform passed her, in a hurry, but not so much in a hurry as to be running. He excused himself as he bumped shoulders with a woman before scurrying down a stairwell to the lower decks, pausing only to ask another crewman the whereabouts of Koenig.[/quote]

The crewman hardly glanced at her as his shoulder rammed into hers. With a muffled "Sorry," he hustled off down stairs and then went out of sight. Kathryn's eyes drew tighter as she glared at him. She saw him mostly from the back, and while she tried to remember the exact hairstyle and color that went with the blue uniform, it was probably not going to stick. "That was a costly mistake," she thought to herself. "Your supervisor will hear of this. And his supervisor, too." The last thing the Melody needed, was a crew that treated their tourists in a shoddy way. While she couldn't point the crewman out from Adam, she would make sure that all the crewmen learned how to treat people. She made a mental note to look the supervisor up and instruct him what he should do - at whose authority.

Now, she had other matters to take care of. Turning around, Kathryn walked past a sullen looking teenage girl, and went across the deck. Her purpose? She was there to see how the crew and staff operated and interacted. She wanted a feel for as many of the staff and crew as she could, in order to report back to corporate. There were always improvements of cruise operations that could be done. And Sunshine Cruises, whom she worked for as an executive was behind the
sending of the Melody. And while some might call it a level of distrust with the normal channels of communication, the board preferred to think of it as the fact that they wanted a second opinion as to the interactions between the staff and crew, the enjoyment of the other customers, and the cost-feasibility of the places they were traveling to.

Kathryn Hunter, one of their own, was that second opinion.

On the way, she saw a youngish looking African American man, perhaps a student. Putting on a smile, she spoke out and said, "Great trip so far, huh?"

[Kentucky Fried Land]

The Melody
Deck 09
Anthony Harrison

Anthony Harrison was, in fact, having a great trip.

The smell of sea salt filled the air as he stared at the ocean, earbuds in and his head hanging over the railing. His eyes changed view to the horizon and a cool breeze hit his face, his curled hair holding strong despite the sudden gust. The events of the day were still there with him. He had jogged through the breeze of the morning, keeping himself in shape despite the vacation. It had always been cathartic; a shaping experience built to suffer his physical and mental stress. After a wandering expedition that led him to a group of elderly beings playing boardwalk, he took on the effort of a lunch date with Logan Turing, a girl he knew from a project in Intro to Sociology. It had gone as assumed, which was well. After all, it wasn’t like a date had ever gone bad for him. It wasn’t like any relationship had gone bad for him. Well, not bad, per se; they just faded out like dim bulbs, fireflies snuffed out of the darkness by a fisted palm.

The boy had spent the rest of his day wandering aimlessly. He felt like he had been doing that his entire life. No goals, no ambitions, no… anything. Eat, sleep, shit, fuck. It carved a way into his chest, a drilling sensation emanating from his ribcage as he thought about it. He was staring off into the ocean when it came to him. All for naught. A life with no beginning and no end. There was simply a middle; a middle for all eternity. He swallowed, arms hanging over the side and sunglasses perked over his nose. He could keep his cool, if need be, but the thought lingered over him. It expended strings which shot into his shoulders, joyed his arms around listlessly, played with his head and made his tongue loll about its enclosure. A mind is a terrible thing to waste… And he had already wasted his.

At the time he was wearing nothing but khaki shorts and some white long sleeve beach shirt he had found tucked away in the back of his closet, eager to be washed and worn. Anthony stuck his arm out over the boat and watched the sleeve rippled against propulsion, flapping in the misty sky. It was pure for that moment, a backdrop of blue amidst a curtain of clouds and the audience of the boat. He smiled, gaze aiming away from the shirt and off into the nothingness.

”Great trip so far, huh?”

He winced and turned his head, eyes now firm on the much older woman who had approached. Well, not much older. Thirties, maybe? He grinned and his eyes fell into a calm state, as Anthony’s tongue clicked. Not one to be taken off guard by a simple inquiry, he responded in kind. “Yeah, it has been. Honestly, I might just be content staying on this boat past the trip. Kind of homely.”

He glanced back at the sea for a mere moment, but then he pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head and fully turned to the woman. “What about you? I guess you’re enjoying it that much too, right?”

[Talchyon]

The Melody
Deck 09
Kathryn Hunter

The sea wind caught at her light tan short-sleeve top, that perfectly matched her dark red light pants (from one of her business pantsuits - the kind she normally wore when feeling certain of closing a deal). Her sleeves whipped in the wind, and it took Kathryn a moment for the wind to die down so her response could be heard by the younger African American tourist - er, customer. Kathryn had her opinions of him moments after seeing him. Seemed like he was college aged. Maybe from somewhere local like Miami. But obviously, he had enough extra to spend his spring break on a cruise. That meant money, either from him or likely, his parents. Kathryn didn't care one way or the other. Wherever the money came from, the young man was here and was seeming to enjoy himself.

The Melody
Deck 09
Anthony Harrison

Anthony Harrison was, in fact, having a great trip.

The smell of sea salt filled the air as he stared at the ocean, earbuds in and his head hanging over the railing. His eyes changed view to the horizon and a cool breeze hit his face, his curled hair holding strong despite the sudden gust. The events of the day were still there with him. He had jogged through the breeze of the morning, keeping himself in shape despite the vacation. It had always been cathartic; a shaping experience built to suffer his physical and mental stress. After a wandering expedition that led him to a group of elderly beings playing boardwalk, he took on the effort of a lunch date with Logan Turing, a girl he knew from a project in Intro to Sociology. It had gone as assumed, which was well. After all, it wasn’t like a date had ever gone bad for him. It wasn’t like any relationship had gone bad for him. Well, not bad, per se; they just faded out like dim bulbs, fireflies snuffed out of the darkness by a fisted palm.

The boy had spent the rest of his day wandering aimlessly. He felt like he had been doing that his entire life. No goals, no ambitions, no… anything. Eat, sleep, shit, fuck. It carved a way into his chest, a drilling sensation emanating from his ribcage as he thought about it. He was staring off into the ocean when it came to him. All for naught. A life with no beginning and no end. There was simply a middle; a middle for all eternity. He swallowed, arms hanging over the side and sunglasses perked over his nose. He could keep his cool, if need be, but the thought lingered over him. It expended strings which shot into his shoulders, joyed his arms around listlessly, played with his head and made his tongue loll about its enclosure. A mind is a terrible thing to waste… And he had already wasted his.

At the time he was wearing nothing but khaki shorts and some white long sleeve beach shirt he had found tucked away in the back of his closet, eager to be washed and worn. Anthony stuck his arm out over the boat and watched the sleeve rippled against propulsion, flapping in the misty sky. It was pure for that moment, a backdrop of blue amidst a curtain of clouds and the audience of the boat. He smiled, gaze aiming away from the shirt and off into the nothingness.

”Great trip so far, huh?”

He winced and turned his head, eyes now firm on the much older woman who had approached. Well, not much older. Thirties, maybe? He grinned and his eyes fell into a calm state, as Anthony’s tongue clicked. Not one to be taken off guard by a simple inquiry, he responded in kind. “Yeah, it has been. Honestly, I might just be content staying on this boat past the trip. Kind of homely.”

He glanced back at the sea for a mere moment, but then he pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head and fully turned to the woman. “What about you? I guess you’re enjoying it that much too, right?”

Kathryn's mouth turned up into an unassuming smile. That was music to her ears, that the young man and his financial backers were willing to front up even more to stay on a few days extra. She wished the whole boat of people would do the same. They'd rake it in if that were the case.

She responded when the wind died down. "No, this is great. I think things have gotten off to a wonderful start on this cruise." As well it should. State of the art cruise liner, that cost an ungodly amount when you checked the bottom line. There had been some hesitancy on the part of certain board members at all the extras the Melody would have. Finally they had come around. And it was smart to do. The Melody had it all. She knew. Kathryn had the map on her laptop, that she was carrying around in a little satchel bag off to the side with some cords. Lightweight, she hardly noticed it. Anyway, the Melody sure stood out from the competition. They were already making back lots of what they had spent.

She said, "Well, hopefully you'll feel the same way about staying on when this cruise is done as you feel now." Her smile was ambiguous. It wasn't the kind of smile a woman would give to a man she was interested in. It wasn't condescending, either. It was a mystery. But Kathryn's eyes remained sharp, one might even say "calculating." Years of climbing the corporate ladder had done that to her.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

[
She resigned herself to the library on Deck 06, the Cornerstone Library, a nook tucked away and seemingly forgotten. Peace and quiet, or as quiet as one could be on a cruise ship. A few others had sought sanctuary here as well. Bookish introverts having made the fatal mistake of leaving the private safety of home. Surprisingly some were reading actual paper books but others were content to play on their cellphones or tablets. A few others conversed quietly amongst themselves, aware of the rules of any library despite the impossible enforcement of silence in a place where noise was as pervasive as it was constant.

Andi Koenig
Deck 06 "The Cornerstone Library"


Andi had found the infirmary bustling with the typical after effects of leaving port. Hangovers, seasickness, stupid injuries incurred due to the high of a foreign vacation. So the medical staff had been noticeably brisk with Andi; running a rudimentary test for concussions before declaring him fine. They had then hurriedly swabbed his wound and provided him with a stark white bandage; before all but shoving him out the door with written orders to rest.

So Andi had presented the work chit to his supervisor before picking up lunch. Now bandaged and with a sack lunch clutched in his left hand and two glass bottles of Coca-Cola stashed in the toolbox in his right. Andi made his way to his next favorite place on the ship; the Library.

While typically preferring the stairs, the mechanic found the rumbling in his stomach and the allure of the soda too great; so he instead opted for the elevator. The car was crowded, yet there was a space around the South African as he took up a position near the front. Andi was aware of the eyes on him; thought the cause, whether being the scarred arm visible from the rolled up sleeves of his uniform or the general presence of crew member, was unknown.

Years, of working, in this environment however, made him used to such occurrences; so he simply suffered in silence before making a quick retreat once the doors opened on the desired deck. A series of well memorized turns saw Andi arriving at the library. Which to his relief, held only a few inhabitants.

Andi made his way to a small table tucked away in a corner, next to a AC vent. A favorite lunch spot of his, quiet and isolated, though slightly disturbed by the girl sitting on a nearby bench. The girl had a pale tone that contrasted with her natural coloring; made the more obvious by the messy dark hair cut to collar length. She was scrawling away on a note book with a mechanical pencil.

With a rough clank, Andi set his toolbox down on the table before depositing his sacked lunch next to it. He then pulled out a pair of
tuna-fish sandwiches wrapped in foil and a package of cookies from the bag. Then, with anticipation he dug out one of his glass coke bottles from the toolbox with his left hand. A slight tingling ran through his hand...

-Thunk-

The glass bottle fell from his grip onto the soft carpeted floor and rolled towards the girl. Cursing in Afrikaans, Andi awkwardly pushed himself away from the table and made to get up.

[Ubaria]

A Caribbean cruise. Two weeks of relaxation under the warm radiance of a blazing tropic sun, coupled with the soothing vistas of the turquoise sea water, palm dotted white sand beaches, all whilst travelling aboard a state of the art Cruise liner, stacked with recreational facilities and public amenities enough to rival a small town. For most this was the getaway of a lifetime, sailing through tropical paradise with no worries except what you might order for dinner that night, it as something to be cherished and it's memory savored for a long time to come. For Eleanor however, this was everything it was not. Two weeks crammed aboard a packed boat in the middle of the dauntingly endless ocean was something she very much had wanted to avoid, yet had been dragged along against her wishes for the sake of spending some time with her family, something she very much did on a daily basis anyway. She had spent much of her time aboard the ship in as much isolation as possible, whether that was remaining in her cabin or in a tucked away spot in a lounge. Today she had located the Cornerstone Library, a small yet quaint section of the ship that catered to those who would rather spend the day reading a book than splashing around in the water park or in the gymnasium.

Eleanor had settled in well, it was a place without much noise and where people wouldn't really try to talk to her, with the addition of a cool breeze thanks to the air conditioning, something that her cabin very much lacked. She had her head buried in a book, another fictional fantasy novel by some aspiring writer to-be, it wasn't her first genre of choice but she was fast running out of things to read on her Kindle, yet it was something to take her mind of things anyhow, it didn't matter much where that distraction came from. Taking a moment to look up from her Kindle, Eleanor scanned the room from behind her dangling fringe, several others had taken to the library as their retreat of choice for the day, some older people and some younger, younger than her infact. She shuffled in her cushioned seat some more as a man walked past, a mechanic from the looks of things, hopefully he wasn't here to start causing noise.

- Clunk -

Eleanor tilted her Kindle to one side and looked over. Just a glass bottle, nothing to worry about. She blew a stray strand of brunette hair out of her way and continued on reading.

[Beiarusia]

DECK 06 - Cornerstone Library

Penny ignored the man as best she could who, despite ample seating, had chosen to sit rather close to her out of everybody else in the small library. Not that the man had ulterior motives for choosing the spot closest to the thirteen year-old — he didn't even seem to have noticed her. Of course, she noticed him well enough, her habit of people-watching too strong an urge to ignore. Nothing about the man was interesting upon first look. Not immediately. Average with dark and eyes and a bandage on his head as if he'd run into a wall. Clumsy? He didn't look the sort. Without meaning to Penny had started sketching a rough ideation of the man sitting across from her. A passable resemblance which included the patch sewn onto his sleeve.

Her pencil skidded into a jagged streak, her sudden bout of concentration broken by the thunk of the glass bottle falling to the carpeted floor. A gunshot in the relative quiet of the library. It didn't shatter but did roll across to Penny who, engrossed in her drawing, was quite obviously watching the man when he looked. Their eyes met and she quickly averted her gaze downwards to the soda now resting against her sandaled foot.

Then came an uncomfortable silence.

"H-here!" Penny said, the uneasiness in her voice palpable. She hastily reached down to grab the soda, not because she was helpful but more-so to end this unwanted interaction as quickly as possible. She held out the soda for the man to take, but as he reached for it the ship's horn sounded suddenly and unexpectedly, a long, reverberating roar that shook everyone and everything. Penny, startled and yelping loudly in panicked surprise, very nearly dropped the soda herself, allowing her sketchbook to fall aside as she scrambled in a flustered flurry of movement to catch the glass as it bounced precariously from one hand to the other. The unintentional juggling ended with both hands clasped firmly around the bottle's neck. Face growing redder by the second she forced the soda towards the man. "Take it. Just... take it."

The horn sounded once more just as the man reached for his soda, and, again, the girl was startled, dropping the glass to the floor where it shattered on impact.

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DECK 11 - Bridge

Captain Arnold MacDavidson slowly lowered the binoculars yet his steely gaze remained transfixed to the distant horizon. He was an older man of fifty-five with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, the lines of his face deepened with the onset of old age, but possessing the underlying strength of a career outdoorsman. A ruggedness that was shelled in the esteemed professionalism expected of a man in his position. In a different time he'd be much at home on safari as he was captaining a ship, the sort who craved adventure in the wilds of the world. Level-headed, to be sure, however, the current situation was not something he'd encountered before in his tenure.

"Anything, sir?" asked a crewman, looking first to the ship's captain then to the distant waters, but MacDavidson shook his head, his features hardening as he mulled over this unexpected turn of events. The others on the bridge awaited his decision with bated anticipation.

The journey to Bermuda had been proceeding smoothly until the discovery of a raft adrift in the ocean. A chance encounter that was narrowly spotted by the eagle-eyes of the helmsman, and even then, and now, the raft was merely an unassuming speck on the horizon to the naked eye. The ship's horn had been sounded to rouse anybody aboard, but there was no signs of movement, and although one could assume the errant dingy as empty it was simply impossible to tell at this distance.

The captain wouldn't abandon the raft without knowing for certain. "Jasper. Take a crew on the tender."

A crewman, understanding, nodded in confirmation before departing with a handful of others. From the bridge the captain (and the others) watched and waited as the small auxiliary boat was lowered and sent on its way to where the raft floated aimlessly, Jasper maintaining diligent radio-contact as they approached. The captain raised the binoculars to his eyes, taking notice of the damage the raft had suffered against the battering waves of the Caribbean. Jasper confirmed as such, as well as the serial number but found no identifying marks to ID country of origin.

By now many of the passengers had taken notice that something was awry, gawking and pointing to the far-off raft as news traveled quickly of the sudden discovery. Some had even acquired binoculars for better viewing. This gossip only intensified as more crew rushed below-deck to launch the second tender alongside the ship's medic. An hour passed and no official statement was released concerning the incident. When asked the crew were evasive in their answering, perhaps unknowing themselves or else ordered to keep silent for the time being, which only served to stoke the already rampant speculation. Eventually the two tenders returned to the Melody. Would-be spectators were ushered from the Tender Lobbies on Deck 01, but, as some would claim, the crew had not returned empty-

Only after the ship had returned on-course, and the raft long gone, did the captain address the incident: an old raft adrift in the ocean, the situation was handled accordingly.

In truth someone had been aboard the wayward dingy, and now the man, or what remained, was inside the ship's morgue alongside the few possessions recovered by Jasper's team. The body would be transferred to the proper authorities at the next port, but, until then, the passengers were blissfully unaware of the severity of the find. Perhaps the truth was preferable, but MacDavidson saw no need to sour the vacation of two-thousand people.

Besides, this was the maiden voyage of the Melody. Everything was to be perfect, and orders were orders and transcended any moral dilemmas.

[Kentucky Fried Land]

The Melody
Deck 09
Anthony Harrison

His position upon the railing was kept, still staring into the deep sea. He only gave temporary glances towards the woman, the sun biting his eyes. They drew into their sockets with the shine and he fell away, pulling his sunglasses back down for protection. As she was finishing her first sentence, he made full eye contact behind dark shades. Anthony didn’t know exactly what her expression meant or why she had picked him to talk to, but he supposed it was nice. Just having someone to talk to, no ulterior motives, nothing to take from Anthony, nothing for Anthony to take from them. Two people talking.

Today was a good day, wasn’t it? The boy decided it was so. Even tonight, when his soul plummeted to the ocean floor it was a good day and nothing would ever change that. Set in stone, trapped in time, glaring forward forevermore. He winced, nodding at her words on how the trip had been. Anthony was happy for her, in a way. He didn’t even know this woman’s name yet he was glad she was enjoying a fucking boat ride. It wasn’t an empathetic sense; rather, sympathy coursed and he reveled in the shared experience. As of late, connecting with others was a hard turn of action. Sure, they connected with him; he made them laugh, he listened to their stories, he supported them. Nothing they could do ever made him feel like he wasn’t an outlier; an observer in a world of dice rolls and figures in motion and collapsing towers. A shiver creeped up his right arm and he tugged at his sleeve cuff, hearing the woman out in finality.

"Well, hopefully you'll feel the same way about staying on when this cruise is done as you feel now." His smile faltered for a brief second then returned to status quo. There was something off with her; but he couldn’t quite tell what. Her smile was just that; a smile. There were no underlying meanings, no creaks in the skin to show any sign of an emotion other than a smile. He looked away. “I wish, uh, I wish I could stay… on the cruise. But, uh, money’s tight, y’now. I got school coming up and I’d probably just get bored anyways.” He scoffed and would have continued had it not been for a sudden sighting in the distance. Some others had taken notice of it, bickering and yelling back and forth as a little dot floated towards the ship in a waving fashion. “You see that?” He asked, attention on that conversation gone and now pointed at the thing in the water.

The crew was lowering a boat now, invoking a sense of curiosity in the boy. A dot was nothing, but a group of people chasing a dot? That begged numerous questions. Soon enough the dot (which was actually a raft) had been dragged back to the ship and disappeared and the captain made his announcement and… that was that.

Anthony Harrison wasn’t quite sure what to make of any of it. He adjusted his backpack, one with straps made of strings and nothing but a couple of snacks and a lucky flashlight inside.

[Talchyon]

The Melody
Deck 09
Kathryn Hunter

That was a curious response on the young man's face. She caught the faltering smile when she suggested that he stay longer. Being quite skilled at picking up on small nuances and capitalizing on them, Kathryn summed up several things in that one facial move. Sadness. Perhaps even a touch of hopelessness. And a longing for the things a cruise like the Melody offered - all the comforts of a life being indulged. It was a fleeting and unconscious gesture, but to Kathryn, it spoke volumes.

Her insights were confirmed when the young man revealed that his financial situation wasn't the best. Somehow, he had gotten enough cash to get on the cruise to begin with. Perhaps someone had pity on him and gave him the trip of a lifetime, and he realized it was all going to end in a matter of weeks. Perhaps he had spent his life savings on one last blow-out. Whatever it was, this was one customer who wouldn't be fleeced for much. That in itself was discouraging, but Kathryn showed no signs of how she really felt. Instead, she nodded slightly as if in sympathy.

The noise of the others on the deck annoyed her. Kathryn scowled and turned to see what all the commotion was about. And that annoyed her even more. This time, she couldn't hide it. Members of the crew were lowering their rowboat and began heading out towards something hard to spot on the horizon. "Damn," she thought. She had personally helped to plan the schedule for the Melody's cruise, making sure it was going to amuse, distract, and pamper wealthy customers. And whatever the seamen and ensigns were doing out in their dinghy wasn't helping.

"I see something," she responded to the young poor customer. Frustration crept into her voice. "Really. This wasn't on the schedule." The other customers were being distracted from their amusements. Granted, that might make some of them hit the bars, and the cash flow would still come. But not as much as before. Worried customers don't usually want to buy tickets for shows, or visit the gift store. She would have words with the captain. She didn't know him, this Captain Arnold MacDavidson. He had come highly recommended, with decades of experience. Apparently his recommendation had left a lot to be desired.

When the raft was brought in, the crowd had been noticeably unsettled, and not even the upcoming stand-up comedy show was able to attract a large audience. Kathryn heard the captain's announcement with displeasure. Unsettling customers for the sake of an old raft out in the ocean? She would definitely have words later. And let him know what an executive from Sunshine Cruises thought of his gaffe.

Composing herself, she turned back to the young, poor customer she had spoken to, with her face as passive as it had been before. Now her tact was to get him, and anyone else, to refocus on what mattered most. That was, giving their hard-earned money over at shops, restaurants, shows and even gambling. "Well, whatever that was about, it's done now... You know, the sun's getting a little warm for me out here. I might head on to some gift shops." It wasn't exactly an invitation. He could come if he wished. If he did, fine and well. If not, maybe Kathryn Hunter would make a trip down to the bridge and speak her mind.

Either would be useful.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Andi Koenig
Deck 06- Cornerstone Library

Andi had already begun second guessing his lunch plans as the girl tried to retrieve his fallen soda. At first Andi chalked it up to shyness, then the ship's horn had sounded. The girl had jolted in surprise and had sent her notebook flying; her cry causing Andi to take an instinctive step back while she frantically caught, dropped, and re-caught the bottle.

The girl finally settled on a two handed grip on the bottle's neck before shoving it towards the mechanic.

"Take it. Just... take it."

The pleading words and reddening face had Andi reach hesitantly for the bottle before a second horn pierced the short lived stillness. The girl gave another yelp and released the soda; where it fell to the deck and shattered in a spray of-

-glass and blood. Andi jerked as Piett's body flopped over the steering wheel and the truck veered sharp left into a ditch. Andi's face smashed against the side window and his vision grew blurry as the cargo truck rested at an angle; half on, half off the road.

The sound of gunfire reverberated from every angle as he picked his head up and tried to peer out the blood spattered and shot-up front windshield. Muzzle flashes and dark shapes winked in and out in the fading daylight and Andi's swimming vision. The sight caused a sense of urgency to penetrate his foggy mind and Andi began fumbling for the door.

Then with a half hearted lunge he tumbled out of the door; dragging his AK with him by the barrel. The mechanic stumbled up the ditch in a fog while Rudi screamed into the radio.

"Andi!! Piett!!!We're under-"

Rudi cut out as a ball of fire lit up the area and sent Andi tumbling back into the ditch. Where a figure loomed overhead with an upraised machete; raised for the-

Andi snapped back to consciousness and realized that he had dropped into a low crouch. He had moved five steps back into the shadow of the bookcases; out of sight of the door and the majority of the library's occupants.

Realization struck the mechanic as he turned to the girl who had the perfect view to see his entire movement. Mumbling apologies in accented English, Andi gathered his tool box and fled the compartment; leaving his lunch behind. He had tried to run before by taking a break; now he was running again by looking for more work. The irony was not lost on the mechanic as he hummed a nursery rhyme and set off in search of Villeneuve. The man always had a repair list waiting.