Deep space travel was never really a pleasant thing. large amounts of time wasted doing nothing while the ship  went in a relatively straight line in a single direction for days or months on end. For deep space travel, Cryo  oddly enough was still preferable than actually being awake the entire time. Well for  passengers at least, actual crew still had to man their stations and not everything was safe to leave up to computers to handle. Waking up from cryo  was the worst. Most people called it hibernation sickness, though doctors would argue that it's not actually a sickness and more or less just your body waking up after several months of being asleep. Whatever it was called it wasn't pleasant. That tingly feeling that happened when a limb didn't get proper circulation and fell asleep  happened so often and so erratically there was never really any part of you that wasn't unpleasant to use. Couple that with the sensation of being drunk but no actual happy buzz to go with it and you were left with a body that felt slow and sluggish to respond, and unpleasant when it did respond. People found themselves fighting through a haze just to go about menial daily things like getting dressed. This hibernation sickness as people called it lasted for a whopping 6 to 7 hours, and that was with medication. Without it, lasted for around the better part of a week giver or take a few days depending on a person's size. Bottom line, Hibernation sickness sucked and all the miners were going through it right now as they sat in a blurred haze in medical getting poked and prodded by  docs trying to stave off the "Sickness" as it was so often called. Whoever thought it would be nice to sleep non stop for about a month never traveled deep space.

After the poking and prodding was  done, the mining team was herded through a corodore of bright lights and dark figures as needles were jabbed into their arms, injecting them with chemicals and medications. In actuality they were ushered down the hall while doctors with medicine injected them in a sort of assembly line fashion. Keeping track of time like this though wasn't likely to happen. And what felt like a disjointed couple of minutes or hours turned into a sudden sense of clarity as the shock from the landing craft being jettisoned from the ship rocked through the miners as the landing craft plummeted through the thick atmosphere of Corona. They were scheduled to  touch down in an assembly outpost that had been built to accept orbital drops. Or well that was the plan. Plans on frontier worlds rarely ever went as smoothly as anyone ever liked, if they even went at all. 


As they plummeted towards the ground, Jack  was slow to come out of his haze. The jarring started him on the process and things were beginning to clear up a lot more now, but leaning down to reach under his seat to get into a supply cache of cigars felt like he was climbing some kind of mountain with no O2 tank to combat the high altitude. But jack, jack needed his fix. He needed that taste in his mouth. After what felt like ages he finally managed to pull one out and shut the case as he leaned back up and into his seat. Slipping the cigar into his mouth and gnawing on the thing now firmly planted in his mouth. Though as the full clarity of the situation kicked in, he saw that "No Smoking" sign looming over his head as if it was some nun  with a ruler at a private school. He barely even registered the sudden  rapid impacts that were happening on one side of the landing craft as it descended from the heavens.