VanyaThe air was stale. That was the first thing a young man of what looked to be about early to mid 30s thought as he came back to consciousness. He disliked the air he was breathing immensely. Opening his dark eyes, he found himself in an enclosed space with a class panel in front of him.
Did someone think I was dead? Have I died? Because sorry darlin' I ain't. Reaching out he gingerly pushed on the glass just to see what would happening. Honestly believing nothing would, the man was greatly surprised and mentally cheering at the ease to which the glass opened.
Pushing the panel fully opened, the man stepped out on slightly wobbly legs.
How long have I been dead? Oooor asleep appearance. The coffin was actually a cryo chamber and he had been asleep not dead.
Yay to small victories. He thought as he tried with no avail to remember anything.
Well isn't this awkward, I don't remember a thing. C'est la vie. Taking a turn abut the room to try and have even the slightest bit of memory jogged, he gave up with a shrug and started snooping through boxes. To his glee he found a footlocker with two pistols and a rifle. He was about to sling the rifle over his shoulder when something caught his eye.
Oh thank god, there was no fucking way I was going to walk around in these itchy clothes. Whoever thought these were proper clothing to sleep in clearly hates everything. Quickly changing into a more form fitting
Kurta. Forgoing any form of shoes because being stealthy was easier barefooted, the man slung the rifle over his shoulders and strapped one pistol to each leg. They were easily hidden by his tunic. With a nod, he crept out further into the ship. It was quiet, as if the ship was dead and lifeless. Which couldn't have been good. He should have felt some shifting that was always associated with travel through space. Hell he should have heard the engines going. Yet it was almost absolute silence.
I can't be alone on this ship... I just... I can't. He felt some panic start to bubble in him at the mere thought of being alone on a ship that was dead in the water. Gripping the gun tighter, the man shook his head to clear it of the unsettling thoughts.
I'm fine, I'll be fine. Continuing on he found a set of stairs that lead up and down. Tapping one finger against the butt of his rifle, the man decided to head up. Up was usually better right? With the decision made he slowly stalked up the stairs until he heard something. Whipping his gun up he pushed up against the wall and stealthily looked around the corner to find the door to the cockpit open. A woman with flaming red hair and a pistol pointed at something out of his field of vision. He faintly heard her say in a voice higher than he expected say, "Hello, Darling. What the hell is going on? Lie and I'll know. Lie and I'll blow your fucking brains out."
Ah shit, somethings gunna go down. Preparing for the worst, he closed one eye and looked down his scope while training the cross hairs on the fiery young woman that could probably tear him apart.