[hr][center][color=yellow][h1]Yazmin Cormick[/h1][/color][/center][hr]

Yazmin's first sense was the feeling of touch. Cold, freezing metal that touched her skin, an equally freezing air circulating in the tank around her, sending hundreds of goose bumps across her pale skin. The young woman felt her breath draw in a chilling breath, quick and sharp. Her eyes slowly opened, and she saw the door of her cryotank slowly open. She swallowed, her desert-dry throat beginning to itch as she did so.

As the girl lurched forward in shock, she instinctively tried to catch herself on the floor. Her left arm made contact with the metal ground, but it wasn't until her weight pitched to the right that she realized that her right arm was not were it should've been. The metal terminal on her shoulder was vacant of the prosthetic arm that normally resided in it. She swore as she turned over on her back, looking up at the ceiling. She breathed heavily as her blurry vision began to clear, showing her the crisp, sleek room she was in. She looked to her left and right, seeing the other cryotanks lined up, all of which were open like hers. 

[color=yellow]"My arm..."[/color] She muttered softly, her voice sounding foreign and raw, the effect of years of not using her vocal cords. She heaved her weight upwards and sat up, using her arm to balance her as she stood to her feet, her legs shaking and shivering as she did. She said nothing to the others, still in minor and beginning to feel rather nauseous. She spotted an old man that she didn't remember, frowning slightly.

Her face pulled into an agape from as she recognized him. Ailbeart Rend? She squinted and looked at the thin man. What on earth was he doing here? She sighed, turning her head towards the corridor as everyone went down it, following them. 

She was completely dazed, even through Benji's speech, simply following close behind as they all went to the dorms. She caught her breath as the doctor mentioned her bionic arm, sliding her thin body past him and stepping into the sleek, silver room. She opened the case and relief filled her as she beheld her prosthetic limb. She shut the case and hurriedly dressed, with one arm, into a pair of jeans and black slip-on shoes made of a soft canvas material. She pulled a grey and black long-sleeve shirt, but threw it on her shoulder, not yet putting it on.

She picked up the case the her arm was in, following the others as they went back towards the kitchen. She sat down at the table, setting the case down on the metal surface. She clicked the box open and removed the sleek metal limb. It weighed nearly the same as her other arm and held the same shape and could withstanding the same amount of force, if not a little more. The only difference in her real arm and the prosthetic, aside from it's the material it was made of, was that the latter was sleek and black, and had parts that one could see the cables through. The thick chords wrapped around each other and into the limb, seeming eerily similar to actual strands of muscle. 

Yazmin positioned the arm on the table as Benji spoke. She grabbed the three tools from the case, and set them on the table by the limb. She took the smallest of the three tools and inserted it into a small hole in her shoulder terminal. She twisted it, 180 degrees, and the metal covering on the terminal slid open, exposing the connectors, nerve receptors, and artificial shoulder joint. 

She slid the prosthetic arm close and connected the arm to the shoulder joint, then pulled the three slack cables and attached them into the corresponding connection point. She breathed out, slowly to calm herself and prepare for the tidal wave of pain that was about to come. She reached to a small dial on the bicep region of the arm, exhaled, and twisted. 

As she turned the dial, she gritted her teeth, letting out a rather loud grunt of pain as the artificial nerves activated in her shoulder terminal, the cables all pulling taut and the arm's hydraulics hissing and shifting with a small release of CO2 gas from her wrist. She swore aloud, glancing apologetically at Benji, who then continued. 

Yazmin flexed the muscles in her shoulder, the fingers on the mechanical arm contracting into a fist. Pleased, she released the fist and touched her thumb to her index, middle, ring, and little finger. Satisfied that her arm was working, she put the tools away and shut the case, listening to Benji.

She gaped as he broke the news. Space? How the hell were they in space? They were supposed to be underground! 

[color=yellow]"So, you're saying they lied to us? And- why didn't you wake us up, two years ago?"[/color] She asked, the incredulous look clear on her face.