[center][i]Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality. -Emily Dickinson[/i][/center] [center]-October 17th, 2110-[/center] The android known simply as ‘Sara’ sat upon the floor of the [i]Aphelion[/i]’s bridge. Her perfectly constructed legs were folded and crossed beneath her, and her hands rested gently upon her knees. Each hand faced with the palms upwards, and the thumb and forefinger of both touched together to form a distinct ‘O’ above the palms. The remaining three fingers pointed straight out, and were pressed lightly together. Her back was erect and rigid, yet the line of her shoulders was relaxed and tensionless. With her eyes closed, and her nose turned slightly upward, the Buddha himself could not have sat in a more perfect Lotus position. No interruption of breath, nor tremor of a heartbeat disturbed Sara’s perfect serenity. Time passed in a fluid, organic stream across the android’s digital consciousness—just as it had done for over two years now. Only in brief, scheduled intervals, had Sara left her meditative state, and then only to check upon the disposition of the [i]Aphelion[/i] and her crew, as well as to intake the minimal amount of sustenance required for her systems to function. “Attention. Destination threshold reached.” The neutral, computerized voice of the [i]Aphelion[/i]’s computer immediately opened Sara’s eyes. Adjusting instantly, she was greeted by the flash of the interior ship lights, and the rhythmic staccato of the red warning beacons. The computer continued its singular proclamation five more times. With the message’s end, Sara stood—an angelic wraith rising up from the floor. Dressed in a form-fitting blue flight suit and seamless wedge-boots, Sara turned on her heels to a panel on the bridge’s wall. Pressing a short series of commands, the large heat shields that obscured the bridge viewports shuddered, and began to withdrawal with a low grown of long-stationary servomotors. As the metal panels retracted, the darkened interior of the bridge was flooded with the light of a billion stars, and the blue hue of the gas giant, Calpamos, that hung directly off the bow of the [i]Aphelion[/i]. Though still thousands of miles away, the ringed planet looked as if it could have been merely plucked from the star field, and held delicately in the symmetrical palms of the android’s hands. For a moment Sara regarded the celestial body. Her bright, silvery-blue eyes were an eerie match to the hue of the planet. Her programing acknowledged that such an event as this would possess inherent significance to a human, and instructed Sara that if she had been able, she would have felt emotions such as awe, delight, anxiety, and… “Fear.” Sara said aloud. --- “Ah, fuuuu…” The word disappeared into a wrenching gag, followed by the rough sound of dry-heaving. Captain Lena Pretorius leaned against her vacated hypersleep pod, bent at her waist, and somehow managed to empty even more from her stomach. Thankfully, Sara had had the forethought to place a pan beside each of the crew’s hypersleep pods for this express purpose. Though Lena was thankful for the android’s attention to detail, she was in no state to thank her now. Lena was covered in a cold sweat with her toned muscles quivering. Her auburn hair hung about her face in damp tendrils, and her green eyes were bloodshot and swollen. That she was dressed in only the revealing, flimsy, white undergarments designed for extended hypersleep did not even cross her mind. She was in too much pain for that, and besides, the rest of the crew were similarly adorned, with most being welcomed by the same severity of shock of reanimation. “The shock will wear off shortly, Captain. Drinking water, along with other vitamin supplements, will speed the process of recovery.” Lena turned her head fractionally from where it hung. She looked into the perfectly flawless face of Sara, and scowled. “Thanks,” Lena managed with a wry smile. “I have done this once or twice though, Sara.” The android nodded her head. “My apologies, mum. I meant no disrespect.” Lena waved the apology away. “No worries.” On unsteady legs, Lena stood, and regarded the android more fully. Around her, the sounds of the rest of the crew awakening rung grimly off of [i]Aphelion[/i]’s utilitarian interior. “How are we faring?” Sara smiled. “All appears normal, Captain. Systems are within nominal ranges, and there are no deaths to report among the crew. The computers report that we are on course, though Mr. Kasparov will have to confirm as much.” “Very well. Give the XO your report. We’ll have our briefing shortly, after everyone has had a chance to shake out the cobwebs.” Sara bowed slightly, and strode away to carry out the orders. Lena watched the android go, following her as she wove her way through the rows of hypersleep pods. The Executive Officer, Preacher as Lena had joined in calling the ex-Colonial Marine, was down near the end of the bay. From where she was, Lena couldn’t see him, but she wondered all the same how the man was making out. [i]Wonder if those prosthetics are glitchy after hypersleep?[/i] She thought with a subtle lift to her brow. A fresh wave of nausea almost brought Lena to her knees, and forced any further contemplation about the XO to an abrupt end. Groaning, she shuffled to a communication panel, and depressed the ship-wide transmit button. “This is the captain. Wakey-wakey, and all that. There will be a briefing in the cafeteria in twenty minutes. Be there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed…” Lena almost released the transmit button when the image of Sara crossed before her mind. With a roll of her eyes, the captain continued. “…And don’t forget to drink plenty of water, alright? Captain out.” [center]* * * * *[/center] Fifteen minutes later, Lena stood before the drink station in the cafeteria a changed woman. Freshly showered and dressed in a grey Wey-Yu t-shirt, an old vintage leather bomber jacket, thick black thermal leggings, and knee-high leather boots, she looked every bit the salty, modern space-jockey. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she wore only mascara upon her face to accentuate the catlike tilt of her eyes. With a hand resting upon her hip, she watched as the computerized drink dispenser spewed forth a black, steaming liquid that passed for coffee. As the machine finished, Lena took her mug, and plopped herself down into one of the chairs. It was only then that she realized she hadn’t even gone forward to the bridge to look at the view of their approaching destination. The disgusting feeling that always accompanied her following a long stint in hypersleep tended to have that singular, dominating effect on her thoughts, so she merely shrugged at the realization. There would be time aplenty to view the grandeur of the gas giant, and the moon of LV-223 that orbited it. All that there was to do now was to wait for the arrival of her crew so the briefing could begin.