[hr][center][h1][color=007236]Mahendra Huq Zalil[/color][/h1]
[img]http://st1.bollywoodlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/rkmog-top-5-mahatma-gandhi-portrayals-on-screen-png-92679.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=007236]Location:[/color] Second Deck (Personal Cabin) 
[Color=007236]Skills:[/color] N/A[/center][hr]

The Bengali geologist, far far away from his native homeland and still a fair distance away from the sort of location his occupation normally would guide him towards, was still sweating as he lay in his bed. In a matter of minutes, his closed eyes were no longer closed on command but instead closed in restful sleep that a man of his current circumstances were duly deserving. Who knew how long he would be like this? Certainly long enough to miss the certainly filling dishes that the rest of their fellowship were to soon enjoy. And if Lauren was as kind as Mahendra was under the impression of, perhaps he too could enjoy their meals, just a little delayed. Hopefully they would have something not containing cattle, or else he'd be more than happy with a normal sandwich. But that was not on his mind right then, but more urgent matters. Matters of life and death. 

In his sweat- and pain induced dream-state, he was still in the desert of Egypt, but not in the area surrounding Cairo. The sun was scorching everything it set upon, including the large line of entrenchments and soldiers in it. Defending it. Defending what? Mahendra was there, then the Sepoy Zalil of the 11th Indian Divison, defending the Suez-Canal from the advancing Ottoman forces. The orders were clear, to stop them from taking control of one of the many lifelines of the British Empire and critical supply route to the entire European Theatre of war. Good for them, they already knew when and where the Ottomans were coming. But it was still bloody. 

Mahendra wouldn't be sure if his dream was an accurate representation of the actual battle, but the main themes were there. He was there, both of them were there; He and the Turk. Mahendra stood up from his position in the trenches to look at the incoming soldiers charging them. From his back they was given the order to open fire, and so they did. Mahendra hesitated, staring down his rifle's sight at a man that could barely be any older than him. The order was given again, but again no shot rang from his rifle. Aagin he was told to start shooting by his English commanding officer, and now he had no choice. He pulled the trigger with closed eyes, but they opened just in time to see the soldier get hit and stumble forward. 

His first kill in a line of many through that war, but on he'd rather forget. 

[hr][center][h1][color=#255DB3]Richard Barker[/color][/h1]
[img]http://westernscreen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/a_chinatown1974.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=#255DB3]Location:[/color] Lower Deck (Dining Area)
[Color=#255DB3]Location:[/color] N/A[/center][hr] 

[Color=#255DB3]"Oh yes, you persist. That much is true."[/color] Richard had to pull his cheek into a small smile at her observation of the 20t century's women. Richard wasn't sure where he stood on the whole "Women's Liberation"-thing. Sure, some ladies had more than enough backbone to prove their worth and be compared to even the President of the United States, and for those women he had all the respect in the world. But then there were the women who used their new-won freedom to take advantage of men with soft hearts or ambitions of their own, and then turn around just to stab them in the back. There probably was a word for that, and it was probably something in French. His own ex-wife probably fit into the bill. Faye on the other hand, she was more of the first. Even if she just kept talking like most women did.

[Color=#255DB3]"Be careful what you say. Before you know it, one of us or both get a serious case of food-poisoning. If they served meat of dubious quality and origin back in New York, I'm sure it can happen here too."[/color] Richard cautioned Faye as he too eyed the buffet table. There were large assortments of food there, ready for the lower-class passengers to dig into like the doves in Central Park. Who knew if they served pigeons here? [Color=#255DB3]"If it tastes funny, reconsider what you're having to eat. If it tastes normal, still reconsider."[/color] Richard continued as he made his way towards the buffet, starting to feel his stomach growling. He hadn't eaten breakfast after all, or anything else for that matter he thought? Only cigarettes and cynical comments about this foreign land. Grabbing a plate and starting to put a small assortment of Egyptian cuisine on the platter. [Color=#255DB3]"Beer or water, Faye?"[/color]