When Zakharin awoke from his dreamless sleep from his cryosleep the technicians have unhooked the dialysis machine from him. The old marine had been put into cryo many times along with his extensive cybernetics made the process of getting over “cryolag” as the marines called it quicker. Waving off the technician hanging around him.

“This ain't my first time being frozen.” Zakharin told him. The man knew there was no point arguing with the old man left to work on another pod.

He looked over the rest of cryobay observing the technicians rousing the occupants of each pod. The coldness of the pod still clung to his cybernetics. Giving the once over on his limb he stood up the machinery compensated for any unsteadiness he had.

“-ain speaking. I repeat, all crew proceed from cryostasis chambers to ready stations. Pandora will reach orbit in one hour. Follow the post-hibernation routine and proceed to your station by then. I repeat…”

He old cyborg moved into action as he heard the message time was of the essence. Zakharin swiftly navigated to the ship halls to the cleaning area. Once a shower and going through his grooming routine. The old marine opens his locker taking his kit out and getting dressed. Checking back into his locker to see how the other items fared from the long journey. Checking the seals on the box were intact. Satisfied with their condition he opened the box. Inside the box was full of cigars martian reds his favorite. Selecting several he slipped them into a leather case placing it into his breast pocket along with his lighter. 

Closing his locker he made his way to the mess to grab a quick meal while he could. Grabbing a light meal. He spotted Volana and Konstantin at one of the tables. Zakharin made his way over to them. 

“Privyet.” The old marine said, taking a seat at the table.

“If either of you got any cryolag I know an old trick from the corps to get rid of it.”