Biting her lip, Dorothy removed the contents of the suits' pockets, and put them in her own, separating the keycard from the USB. So, next on her list was Chris... She tried to remember who he was, but found nothing. She assumed that the suit she was wearing was actually hers, and finally learned of her own name. Dorothy. It sounded strange to her, but no stranger than how Jason's suit was unharmed, but his body was decomposing in the ship. How long had these suits been left unworn? Why was everyone naked? Why was she fine, but Jason was in a state of advanced decay?

Feeling a headache from over thinking threatening to appear, she decided that she needed to drop it, and stood up. She began to move down the halls, finding a mop that had been abandoned in a now-dry bucked. She unscrewed the stick from the bottom, already feeling the slightest bit safer with it in her hands. It was taller than her when placed on the ground, made of thin metal tube with plastic gripping on one end and a sharper screw-like end on the other. She held it close as she began her search, deciding on trying to locate the rooms she'd remembered.

Feeling tempted to call out again, she paused at an intersection, looking around for any sign of life. She didn't call out, feeling like it would be a very bad idea. Maybe whatever, or whoever killed Jason was still lurking about, maybe it had been dealt with; She didn't know. All she had to rely on were the feelings in her gut and what she was slowly learning about her situation.