[h2]The Arcadian - 24 September, 2190[/h2]
[h3]Dr. Allison Sorens[/h3][hr]


Allison and Alice had had breakfast together,  discussing a bit more about the mission and Allison's thoughts on it. She'd shared her hope for a discovery worthy enough of this mission, otherwise, the time, energy, and money poured into the Arcadian and its crew wound have been in vain. That was her own opinion at least, harsh as it may seem. 

While eating, Allison briefly touched upon her life back home. She didn't mention her husband though; that topic was one she mostly kept to herself. If she was being honest with herself, that wound was the only one she didn't know how to properly handle. Ironic, really, given her profession. Allison has also refused to see someone about it, partly because she's always been the one helping people through grief, not the one to be receiving the help. For now, time would have to do its thing. 

A while later and eventually both women went about their ways. Allison returned to her quarters, seeing a few more questionnaires had been submitted. The responses were automatically processed through the software, highlighting possible red flags such as an individual's likelihood to be a liability. Thus far everything looked fine; typical responses of individuals given their positions. 

And that's when she saw it, the notification. Nothing to be done on her part, but it was more of an FYI. It was then Allison headed to her workspace. Not for any specific purpose, but she'd rather be there than lounge about in her room.