Pioneer IV

“Welcome aboard the Pioneer IV. Please look into the glass for retinal identification scan.”

A lanky blonde boy eagerly turned in the direction of the robotic voice and peered into the dark tinted glass. Fascinated, he studied the bright green laser as it brushed over his eye; in less than a second, the glass box chimed its approval, and the droning female voice from the speaker said:

“Welcome, Cale. Have a nice day.”

Impressed, Cale Townsend grinned and made his way to the lounge chairs in the middle of the ship’s lobby. The Pioneer IV was as efficient as he had hoped; even the eye scanners, the most basic technology, were engineered to perfection.
But Cale was more intrigued by the newer innovations. The ship was decorated with all kinds of devices he had never seen before. Tucked in his ear was an automatic English-to-French-to-Chinese translator. The three-dimensional televisions and computers projected flawlessly lifelike images; Cale had already twice mistaken a holographic dog for a real one. However, it was the laboratory that won his heart.

The door to the lab was locked, but the little window teased Cale with a glimpse into the massive room. Cabinets lined every wall, and he could only speculate as to what lay inside them. If the leisure technology was as advanced as it was, he thought, then imagine the lab equipment! At the thought, his hard expression broke, replaced by a small smile. The Pioneer IV thoroughly captivated him.

The gentle voice of an elderly Caretaker pulled Cale out of his rapture. “If you’ll please follow me, children, I’m going to sort you into bedrooms, now.”

With a sigh, Cale rose and joined the mob of young adults forming around the Caretaker. Looking around the room, he had not found a single person who interested him. He noted with scorn that, while he had been looking into the lab, most of the others had crowded around the computers, fawning over the selection of games. And these were supposed to be the most brilliant and talented youths in the world. Cale scoffed, half at his peers and half at himself. In joining the Pioneer Program, he had expected to find people like him – people of intellect. Instead, it seemed he would be rooming with a couple insolent morons for the rest of his life.

Just as the group began to descend down the hallway, the robotic voice poured out of the intercom: “One hour to liftoff. One hour to liftoff.”

Instinctively, Cale turned to look at the open hatch – the window to an Earth he would never see again. For an instant, the desire to return to his familiar life overpowered him, but the impulse vanished as quickly as it had arrived. He shook himself; never did Cale Townsend let his emotions get the better of him. He had already said good-bye to his parents, and he had no other friends back home – at least, none that he felt were worth his time. More importantly, he had studied his whole life to be a part of the Pioneer Program. The Pioneer IV, once just a dream, was now his home - just like he had wanted. At this point, he had no time or tolerance for doubt.

Cale turned away from the hatch, his emotions forced back into invisibility, and walked down the hallway to the bunks. He had an entire universe to look forward to and no reason to look back.

With hands clasped behind her back, shoulders squared, and head held quite high the young woman awaited the sanitizing process to be complete with a rather blank look on her face. A pressurized squeeze of air would be released into the white room, enveloping America with anti-microbial disinfectants leaving her more clean than she had been in her mother's womb. A light would turn green.

You are approved. Please move forward, America Johnson.

Expression never changing, America complied with the monotone, disembodied, and computerized voice into the next room where a retina scan would be initiated. And before the young woman knew it, she was being allowed aboard the Pioneer IV for the very first time. Hope welled in her chest, and she felt like a child in this new atmosphere for once in her life. All these years were spent to train, discipline, sculpture herself into being an efficient runner for a Pioneer. Though while all these emotions were running rampant through her core, America remained almost robotic standing there once again with hands clasped behind her back and her body stock still. Only every now and then would she reach up a hand to adjust the translator in her ear.

The others in the room made her feel uneasy slightly. She wasn't daft and could tell the difference between herself and them easily; anyone could. America seemed detached from those that were supposed to be her peers, feeling much older than they were. Adults were more on her level of intellect, especially those that knew of combat tactics and planetary exploration equipment. A small wonderment would cross her mind... when would see get to see the equipment for Runners? Would they be anything like what she trained wi-

“One hour to liftoff. One hour to liftoff.”

Blinking, America had noticed that her mind apparently wandered off far too much. Something that would not have been afforded in the field. It could get her injured, or worse, killed. The previous occupants of the room had left and only the last of them were seen being herded into the hallway. She knew where they were going as America had studied the blueprints and layout of the Pioneers in her schooling for the program. Dropping that militaristic demeanor, the young woman made her way to get a last glimpse of what she was leaving behind: home.

A hand was placed against the glass, though America could not feel it through the thickness of the glove which adorned her fingers and palm. Faint sorrow would become her features on her face as she looked down at the planet which raised and nurtured her from birth. This was it... this was the last time that America was ever going to see it. Never again would the girl be able to gaze upon the blue waters, nor the brown and green earth of the planet.

"Goodbye..."

And with that small parting whispered to her home, America would return back to her previous demeanor and follow after the other children.

"Ow..." Sammy muttered, straighting up while rubbing his eye. That green light always hurt, now matter how many times his eye was scanned. However, he dropped his hand and smiled as the door opened, to robotic voice inside saying, "Welcome, Sammy. Have a nice day."

"Thanks! You, too!" He said, even though the machine couldn't respond. Sammy began his tour of the ship, smiling and waving to people he didn't even know yet. He couldn't wait to meet them all, though! He would never be alone! Several of the people were already forming small groups, while others seemed to stay on their own. The brunette wondered off down one of the halls, his fingers trailing along the wall behind him as he felt the cool metal. After a few minutes, the hall dead ended into a set of white doors, swinging in the air. Sammy pushed them open, gasping as he entered the kitchen. Long, white table tops, shining chrome... He sqealled ever so slightly, beginning to run to one of the giant mixtures when an elder Caretaker appeared, smiling softly at him. "Uh... Hi!" Sammy said, grinning up.

Now, most people would look at Sammy and think he was a complete moron. Well, they could be right, if one looked merely at the surface, but, in truth, he was quite bright. One had to be to get on these ships! He wasn't a very deep thinker, but had enough intelligence to know his place among the others. He was to cook, clean, teach, and care for the people aboard this ship, and he was glad to! It was the brunette's passion to help. As long as they wouldn't leave him somewhere, he was perfectly fine with going off in a space shuttle filled with strangers!

"I'm sorry, this area is off limits for the time being. Besides, they're asigning rooms currently." The elder told him, gently pushing him towards and out the doors. Sammy tried to resist, but it was hopeless. As he returned to the main room with the rest of the children, other adults, mainly the Caretakers, began leading them towards the bunking area.

On the path there, his ice blue eyes scanned the surrounding, his lips curled in a smile the entire time, his earrings making quiet jiggling noises with every step. Sammy took notice of one of the windows looking out at the world he would never return to, and a pang of sadness struck his heart briefly. He was leaving behind all the people he had grown up with. The people that had raised him, the woman he was named after, the cook in the orphanage, everything, gone from this point on.

"One hour to liftoff." A voice spoke, yanking him from the window and back towards the bunks. "One hour to liftoff."

His thrilled smile soon reappearing on his face as he walked with the familiar happiness that seemed to brim over and onto everyone he was around. This was it. This was the end of an old, familiar era, but the start of an amazing new adventure.

"Yes!" Violet thought ecstatically "Bye, Earth, my own hell, and on to the freedom within captivity."

Place eye in front of retinal scanner for identification

Violet scanned her eye.

Access Denied

'What. What? WHAT!? Access denied! What the f-' she thought. "Wait," a ship tuner ran up, "this, this thing, it's been giving problems. Try it again." She scans her eye, clearly frustrated with the machine.

Access Granted

The doors slide open. "Whew," she thought, " I was almost locked out of my own cage, my own refuge." Thank the... well.... whatever, I'm on! She smiled, and some random trainee looked at her with a confused face.

"Are you happy to leave everything we know?" Her smile dissapeared, and the mean in her reared it's ugly head as she glances out the window. "Yes, I am," she curtly replied, " We are the brightest people, and we get to escape from the normality of Earth. It's great. No more stupidity. I hope, anyway." She attempted a shut-up-and-go-smile. No notice to the expression of pure paini-ness. "You're an odd one."
"Well, you're an annoying brat. Who asks personal questions. And judges for one sentence." and with that she stalked off towards the guy who was going to announce room assignments.
"Hey, Im not done talking to you!" She turns, her face contorted to a pain-in-the-you-know-where expression.
"Do I care?"
"Yes!"
"Wrong."
She continues to walk towards the group gathered around the computers. Ugh, video games haunt us here too?

"Stupidity! With smart people! Is it even possible? Oh wait, this is my life. Things get f-ed up."
She passes a guy looking at the lab, not at the computer games. Wait. What? Guy+computers=Games
Hmmmm...

She almosted reached where lab-boy was, and she was going to see what enthralled him so, but the caretaker came by and rushed him toward the group.
'Better follow,' she thought.

"Hey, trainees. Quiet!" eveyone quiets down and looks at the caretaker with their room plots. "This is how it's going to be. Three to a room, keep it clean, keep it neat, and DON'T ask for a switch. Now here are the pairings..."

Oh, I have to deal with people. Great. Did i miss the training for that?
She instinctively looks around her, lab-boy was looking back, and she turned too. Earth. "Mabye I might just miss you a little, mom, dad-- NO! They hurt me, they messed with my head, they can go to HELL. On the outside she looked composed, but on the inside, she wondered, "Who am I now, what am i doing, missing hell? Who am I gonna be over here?"

"Can I forget Earth?"

"Can I forget IT? What marks my back?"

The narrow hallway opened out at the end to reveal a large, circular lounge room, complete with chairs, toys, and a holographic television. Ten labeled doors surrounded them, each one leading to an identical bedroom.

"Take as long as you need in choosing your roommates," said Mrs. Mayfield, the old Caretaker. "Just remember, three to a room - no more, no less."

With a roll of his eyes, Cale picked a door at random - Room 3 - and walked into the room. Thankfully, the rooms were much bigger than he had imagined. In it, he found three beds, three desks, three computers, a bathroom with a shower, and plenty of living space. More importantly, he would have privacy; surrounding each bed and desk was a contractible wall that, when activated, created one little room where Cale would not have to bother with his roommates - or anyone else, for that matter.

Cale climbed into one of the beds and lay with his hands tucked behind his head. Outside the room, he heard the bustle of kids quickly trying to make friends and find roommates, but he didn't bother; he hoped to spend most of his time in the laboratory, anyway. He would only see his roommates when it came time to sleep.

At the end of the hallway, a man watched the young adults from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. His almond-shaped eyes seemed to catch every movement, absorbing each action with calm, detached interest. From the expression on his face, no one could tell what he was thinking; but from his appearance and the way he carried himself, anyone could see that he was someone important. While the other adults donned the standard coveralls, this man dressed himself in a gray suit, a black tie, and polished black shoes. Not one black hair stood out of place on his head. Dr. Zhao Min's appearance was always official, but as he watched the kids at the end of the hall, his mind was already at work.

Those dark eyes of America would roam about, studying the current surroundings while following behind the others ever so quiet and seemingly intimidating. When the other kids passed glances at her, they were quick to start whispering to whoever was nearest them.

"Who's that?"
"I dunno, but I hear she's supposed to be some hot shot Runner for the Pioneer."
"She's a Runner?"
"Yeah."
"She looks like a b-"

Take as long as you need in choosing your roommates. Just remember, three to a room - no more, no less."

America ignored the comment that was almost made, not caring what they thought of her. They would be thanking her later when she explored a planet that was deemed worthy of colonization. As they looked back at her again, the young woman would merely arch a brow before turning into the closest room. America would not have been surprised if they were making more comments or even, faces at her behind her back. She just wanted to get this all over with so that some tension could be released in training, or perhaps she would meditate instead...

There was already a boy in here with her, a little younger than herself if she were correct, and only a simple nod of recognition would be made for now. America maneuvered to a bed opposite his and sat down with back ridged and arms crossed over her chest. Well this was interesting... Perhaps she should at least say hello? Why not, this was going to be their room after all, and it was going to be a long journey until America could exercise her training.

"Hey." Simple, short, precise. That was all that was needed.

Cristov had already gotten through the retina scanner by the time most others his age had followed along. After repeated looks of disgust were spared to his space suit - He rather preferred a pair of slacks, dress shirt, and a tie-, a coo went to a young child, his right hand stretching forth to pat the little girl on the head. He couldn't help but find the kids adorable, and at times he almost wished he was a caretaker instead. The urge to write was with him every step of the way, though, and the fingers of his free hand curled into themselves at the compulsive urge to write. It was hard to fight the urge to find his things and start recording the events of the past few minutes.

"Seems it will always be like this, or so I hope," he muttered to himself, starting out of his thoughts only from the little girl's "Huh?" aimed up at him. "Nothing, dearest. Just thinking about the future." Still, hues wouldn't rove to take in the last sight of the world he was leaving behind. There was no point in looking at what would no longer be his; what never was. A philosophical standpoint was all that would hold him together for the oncoming years, and it was the best way to keep from getting caught up in all the scientific crap that everyone would always be talking.

Almost on reflex, the little girl was picked up at the direction that rooms would be assigned. A living, safety blanket of sorts tucked into his arms, the faint smile flourished for but a moment as he paused to look at the others. They all seemed interesting enough, but his disinterest was evident. At the final instruction to pick rooms, though, the girl was set free for him to wander forth and poke his head into varying rooms. Finally stopping at the third, knuckles hit on the frame before he bothered to cross the threshhold. "Willing to hold one more or shall I depart in search of another vista as my abode?"

Cristov did his best to look charming, head tilting slightly for red-brown locks to fall partially into his face, cutting the corner of an eye from view. Still, at the door he slouched, doing his best to look as nice as he could while being in the dastard pair of coveralls. "I'm Cristov. Cristov Luminairre. Recorder... extraordinaire, I suppose, but I suppose that's unimportant enough." Buttoning his lips at that with a shrug of the shoulder that hadn't sunk against the wall, a smile was once again offered, though arms folded.

At the sound of movement within the room, Cale had to hold back a groan. His last moments of privacy has quickly dried up. Sighing, Cale sat up and opened his eyes to get a look at his new roommate.

He blinked a few times. Sitting on the bed across from him was not the bull-headed oaf of a boy he had dreaded, but instead a tall, elegant, and rather intimidating young woman. The silence that filled the room suddenly seemed to suffocate Cale, and he stiffened. He stared pointedly at the girl, waiting for her to leave, growing more and more anxious with every moment that she stayed.

Then, the girl's voice rang through the tense silence. Her greeting seemed harmless enough, but all the same Cale felt threatened. This girl had blatantly trespassed on the room he had found for himself, and she seemed to have no intention of leaving. Worse yet, as he was trying to think of a way to be rid of her, a young man appeared at the door looking for roommates.

Cale's eyes darted between the two. Both the boy and the girl surpassed him in physical maturity - he guessed they were a few years his senior - but he didn't care an ounce for such a technicality. However, he had to share this room with somebody. And if not them, whom? His hesitation lasted only a moment, and then he reluctantly nodded.

"Sure. I'm Cale." He lay back on his bed with the intention of ignoring the two, but common courtesy nagged at the back of his head. He sighed, turned to the girl, and asked the obligatory "What's your name?"

"Willing to hold one more or shall I depart in search of another vista as my abode? ...I'm Cristov. Cristov Luminairre. Recorder... extraordinaire, I suppose, but I suppose that's unimportant enough."

America's attention was drawn to the door at the voice, her eyes having to leave the other boy's figure to gauge the new one. His slack posture was distasteful, was she the only one here that had any sense of discipline, or did they all take the lazy route to do as they pleased with their bodies? A human body was nothing to be unmannered about, he'd be regretting that lopsided stand of his if the boy was in fact, seventy, with a hunch over his back. A nod was awarded to him as well, signaling in body language that America didn't have a care if he stayed here or not. And as if to confirm that agreement, Cale, as the boy named himself, had concurred with offering a "Sure."

"What's your name?"

The question was undeniably to her, as America was the only one that had not offered her name. A shift of her arms were made and the young woman's eyes fixed to the floor at her feet. So this was how it was going to be. She was going to be stuck in the room with two males during the entire flight. A slight annoyance was felt, America closing her eyes against it.

"Johnson, America. Runner." Again, simple, precise, and short. Sure, she knew her mechanics when it came to weaponry, and some biological knowledge of aerial, marine, and ground based animals, but when it came to people... America sadly drew the short stick.

"Welcome aboard the Pioneer IV. Please look into the glass for retinal identification scan."

The boy inclined his head to the right so the scan had direct access to his eyes. A brilliant green light was flashed for a split moment before it receded once more. Unblinking, he studied the machinery, waiting for the acceptance.

"Welcome, Niklaus. Have a nice day."

Without a word, Niklaus moved on. Machinery such as those didn't quite capture his interest. What occupied his mind, however, was their choice of voices. The first drone voice had been ambiguous in gender. However, the second had clearly been female. A curious choice indeed. They had both been intended to welcome passengers, but the first had a somewhat cold manner. The second was made to give the impression of being warm and welcoming. Niklaus wondered if it had succeeded. But no matter. That was something to ponder over another time. Now was the time to analyze his new setting.

The lounges he found rather distasteful as it had nothing to contribute to knowledge. Comfortable chairs, television, and games? He snorted mentally. A moment later, his view changed. Since other "pioneers" would undoubtedly find the lounge a fascinating past time, he could use it as a sort of study. See how they act alone, or with company.

Moving on, he encountered a sign. He took only a moment to peruse it before walking briskly down the right hallway. He strolled pass the bedrooms, gym, kitchen, cockpit, and Supervisor's Office with barely a glance. It was only when he reached the lab did his pace slacken. Peering through the window to the variety of equipment and cabinets that lay in the lab, he allowed a smile to grace his features. He would find life on the Pioneer IV very satisfactory indeed.

"Hm." Once Cale had performed his duty as a polite roommate, he swung his legs over the bed and stood up to leave. Without so much as an explanation for his departure - or even a standard farewell - he slipped past Cristov and into the lounge, heading straight for the lab.

The way he saw it, Cale had been presented with two choices after America introduced herself: leave right then and there, or be forced to feign interest in her life for another hour or so. And he had no patience for small-talk. Humans wielded the most complex cognitive function - speech - and too often they wasted it on pointless rambling about nothing but themselves. Not only did Cale have no care to listen to the details of America's history, but he had his doubts that she could even speak more than three words at a time. If she could, she certainly hadn't proven it.

In his eighteen months of training for the Pioneer Program, Cale had encountered several of America's type. Their strength, beauty, and cool composure intimidated him at times, but he quickly realized they all had the same weak spot - and America was apparently no exception. She, along with all the other Runners, served as an icon for the program. She had the pretty face that the media on Earth had eaten up, and she could go on the daring adventures that caught the interest of the public. But her endeavors meant nothing unless she had the mind to decipher the meaning behind them, and that was where her image lost its dimensions. She was a beautifully decorated package with nothing inside.

Cristov was also unimpressive to Cale. Unlike America, he accompanied his words with a little style, but to Cale he was equally transparent and more annoying. When he spoke, he was unnecessarily verbose, most likely because he used words rather than substance to create an image of intelligence.

But perhaps Cristov truly was intelligent; Cale had to hope, at least. He had to hope that Cristov or America or someone would prove him wrong out of the blue. As he stared into the empty laboratory, he had to hope that it wouldn't stay empty.

Reaching out a hopeful hand, Cale grasped the door handle - locked, as he had suspected. He sighed and moved to look through the window again when he heard a voice behind him.

"Looking for something?"

Cale turned around to face the man in the gray suit. He sat elegantly poised in one of the lounge chairs, his fingers interlocked, watching Cale curiously. He looked neither amused nor upset, just quietly interested.

"No, sir," Cale replied. The man's eyes on him made him just a little uneasy. "I just wanted to take a look around the lab."

A small smile crossed the man's face. "In time, son. In time."

He rose from his chair in a fluid motion and turned his gaze to the end of the hallway. Then, he looked back to Cale wordlessly. Cale, taking the hint, gave an awkward nod and walked briskly back towards the dorm rooms. Even as he turned away, he could feel the man's eyes on his back.

As Sammy continued to the bunks and instructed to find one with two or less people, he came across Room 4, a single girl inside. Smiling he walked on in. "Bonjour! Je suis Sammy Smith!" He began, his fingers moving to fiddle with the piece of metal in his ear, hoping it worked. Thankfully, it did, his words changing into her default language. "I'm one of the Caretakers here. Do you mind if I share a room with you?" He walked in a little further, looking down at her and grinning as she made her bed again. "Did they make it wrong? I could help, if you wanted me to."

As he grinned down at her, Sammy took in the room out of the corner's of his eyes. Three bunks, three desks, three computers, a decent living area, a bathroom, and even a wall that could be brought out to separate the pioneers with their room mates. This was to be the layout of the other rooms as well, the rooms he was meant to clean up after and the people inside he was meant to care for, happily of course! Service with a smile. That was Sammy, in a nutshell.

Yawning from the long trip, Songharaddh "Sun Tzu" Neang looked around, seeing the Earth one last time. No matter what, even though the Earth is a shit-hole, its still his home, and home will always be home. He sighed as he walked into the hangar bay for Pioneer IV, realizing he'll probably never see it again in his life, he began to tear up. "Guess, I'll see you in the next life." He spoke to the imaginary personification of Earth. Smiling and crying at the same time, he walked up the ramp for Pioneer IV. His parents seen in the distance giving him a blow kiss. He gave him their last wave and entered the ship. He looked around at the entrance and saw a little console.

"Welcome aboard the Pioneer IV. Please look into the glass for retinal identification scan.”

"Uhm.. Okay." he says and puts his eye in front of the scanner, then blinks on accident, "Ugh."

"Access Denied. Do not blink your eye. Please try again."

"Whoops. Sorry." Sun stares into the scanner, holding his eyes open this time.

"Access Granted. Welcome Neang, Songharaddh. Have a nice day!"


He didn't care about meeting others, or taking a tour. He merely wanted to relax, to sleep. He was assigned to Room 8. Quickly running to his bunk of the far left, he saw his pile of books. Obviously placed earlier by his servants. Smiling, he went through the books, seeing whats in his pile, he skimmed quickly through, tossing the books around. Sighing, he jumped onto his bunk, laying silently.

Sun quickly got up and sat in his bunk, seeing as no one was beside him, he decided to strip down into his boxers, as he always does at home. Then he began to crawl into his favorite blanket. He was already showing symptoms of a certain nearly uncurable disease. He was homesick! Sighing, he decided to bring out one of his most loved books, "The Demonata: Lord Loss," the first of the series by Darren Shan. The books were made centuries ago, but he brought the whole series with him anyways, including 400 other books. No seriously, that wasn't exaggeration, he literally brought 400 plus books with him. That was his whole bookshelf, being a bookworm, he was interested in writing his adventures of "Life on Pioneer IV." But realizing that nobody from home would probably never read it, he decided to scrap the idea.

He began to quickly flip through the pages, he read the books plenty of times. This is his fourth. This is quite literally his most favorite books of all time. It consisted of gore, drama, love, betrayal, an amazing ending, and a mixture of demons and aliens. How amazing is that? Quickly finishing another chapter, he put the book down, putting the book mark in it. Smiling, he decided to walk out of his bunk room, and into the cockpit. Looking out, he sees the black pitch sky, with stars. The view you couldn't see on Earth. With unnatural lights, and pollution drifting from a certain country to the north. He finds his chessboard hidden under in the locker inside the cockpit. He began to arrange the pieces and blankly stared at them.

"If you’ll please follow me, children, I’m going to sort you into bedrooms, now." The words had registered in his mind, but he'd dismissed them as unnecessary. It was only when he found himself alone did he slowly pull away from the lab. Another time, another time.

Following the sounds of conversation and receding footsteps, he soon rejoined the group. Staying back, Niklaus watched closely as each person chose a room, noting how they chose roommates similar, or different, to themselves. Apparently, they did not choose according to the roles they were assigned. Rather, they chose on the basis of personality and quirks... Intriguing. How productive would that be? And-

His thought process was stalled by the sharp gaze of a well dressed man. His very appearance gave the impression of perfection. The standard suit and tie of a businessman made him look official. His facial expression was observant, but made him seem unapproachable. Standing at the very end of the hall, he gave them no words and was passed by relatively unnoticed. Perhaps it was his silence that hid him, or perhaps people were simply intimidated by the reserved, calculating man. Either way, Niklaus was likewise affected and found his feet dragging him to the nearest empty room.

Closing the door behind him, Niklaus found that for once, his observations had failed him. Room 8 was, in actuality, not empty as evident by the untidy bedsheets and the pile of books on the left of the room. Frowning slightly, he realized that he'd have to share the room as it was probable that no other rooms were empty. Shaking his head in resignation, he targeted his side of the room and untucked a corner of the bedsheet to signify his claim on it. As he had nothing from Earth to make his claim clearer, he moved on, feeling that that was sufficient. A bed, desk, computer for each occupant. A shared bathroom, and a sort of "living room". Roomier than he had expected, but the thing that caught his eye was the divider. He brushed his hand over the mechanism and smirked. The designers certainly had their priorities straight. Studies over socialization. Perfect.

"Ignacio..."

"..."

"Ignaaaaaaaciooooo..."

"..."

"...Ignacio!"

A deep sigh exploded through the cold, empty hallway and Ignacio Manuel Torres-Aravez covered his face with his hands, praying for patience. "What, Isabel?" he snapped. His little sister, standing calmly next to him with her thin arms crossed behind her back, didn't even bat an eyelash at his outburst.

"Look at it," she said, nodding toward the earth hanging forlornly in the distance. "It's the last time in a while you'll be able to, you know."

Ignacio rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do know," he said, turning to walk away. "Unfortunately, when you make us late, we don't have time to reminisce about our happy times on earth. Come on." He set off down the empty hallway, looking around for anyone who could tell them where they were supposed to be. He could practically feel Isabel's scowl on his back, but he ignored her. After a few moments she felt her familiar light steps alongside him. "Please, please behave yourself while we're here. I don't want you shipped back off to earth or left on some random--"

"Oh, listen to you! As if I'm some hoolum," Isabel laughed. She was about so say something more, but they rounded a corner and were confronted with a crowd of people. She smiled impishly up at him. "Time to make friends," she said in a sing-song voice.

Realizing he was still... in his boxers, Sun ran towards a locker, and he put in a set of fatigues that were made for him, having the Cambodian flag stitched onto the right sleeve. Relieved, he jumped back onto the seat, staring at the chess pieces, he began to play a game in his head. A rather short game, sort of reliving a certain match he played against his father when he was younger. Sun smiled widely, and put the pieces back into the original molds and stored the in his locker once again.

He got up, looking out the windows, he stretched with a long yawn, and decided to watch some TV. He walked down the hall and into a room filled with games, and holographic televisions. Looking through the collection, he found a holo-disk, one of his favorite movies of all time. Star Wars: Episode IV. He was requesting to join Pioneer IV for a reason, because Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope, was one his favorite movies of all time. He put the holodisk in, and began watching the movie. Who knows how many times he's watched it, maybe 4-500 times? Somewhere between that. It was apart of his dream of going into space, meeting an extraterrestrial, killing them, or being a diplomat and having a healthy relationship between two races, no matter, primitive or advanced, he hoped to meet another from another planet, hopefully they were intelligent. He paused the movie and went to get some popcorn, he threw it into the microwave and put it for 60 seconds.

Beep Beep Beep Beep goes the microwave. 60 seconds have gone by and he pulls the popcorn out of the microwave. He got back to his movie. About ten minutes into the movie, he decided to not finish the movie, he skipped all the way to the ending credits, Sun loved the ending song, and waited through the whole ending credits. Yawning, he decided to go back to his room, Room 8. He walks into see a strange man looking at the rooms.


"Oh. Are you my roommate? Sorry about the mess."

Niklaus took off the translator earpiece and placed it on the center of his desk. It was an unnecessary equipment, and he needn't carry it along. He considered sitting down, but decided against it. When his roommate came, he'd prefer to be standing. Now all that was left was to wait.

The small hiss of the door opening heralded the arrival of his roommate. Turning, he looked over him, taking in his profile. 'Some deepening of the voice and maturity is beginning to show. Height is average for an older teen. Aged fifteen to sixteen. Probably not seventeen, but I can't exclude that. Tanned skin speaks of time in the sun, or perhaps it was passed down through the family. If so, that implies desert area- No. From distinguishing facial features, he's descendant somewhere from Asia, probably the south. Unkept hair signifies lack of discipline, along with his casual greeting and untidy belongings. Southern Asia then. And yet, despite his careless manner, he shows remarkable dedication to his work. What work would that be though...? Ah, a cheerful demeanor. Very well.'

His observations taking only a few moments, Niklaus quickly chose the proper response and smiled, his manner casual, "Yeah. I'm Niklaus Talbert, a scientist-in-training. And it's fine about the mess. No one to scold you 'bout it anyway, huh? Oh, I missed your name...?"

While the children bustled around the lounge looking for roommates, the man in the gray suit slowly ambled his way to the center of the room. His steps hardly seemed to make a sound, but the old Caretaker felt him approaching nonetheless. She turned to face him, naturally averting her eyes as though she stood in the presence of a titan. He greeted her with a small, amiable smile.

"Good evening, Mrs. Mayfield," he murmured in his soft, soothing tone. "Would you mind calling the students to the center of the room? I would like to speak to them for just a moment."

"Of course, Dr. Zhao." With a dutiful nod, Mrs. Mayfield turned and raised her voice. "Children, gather 'round! The Head Supervisor is going to speak, now!"

The hectic murmur of children trying to find their homes turned into an excited buzz. A large semi-circle began to form around Dr. Zhao as the kids eagerly converged to meet such a highly esteemed man. Before they had even set foot on the Pioneer IV, they knew the name Zhao Min. From the edge of the room, Cale Townsend slowly made his way to the mob of chattering children. He wanted to kick himself; how had he not known that the Head Supervisor was speaking to him? After all the days he had dreamed of meeting and impressing Dr. Zhao, he had blown his first impression. He sat down and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

Once the kids had settled down and grown quiet, Dr. Zhao welcomed them with a smile. "Good morning to all of you. For those of you who don't know, my name is Dr. Zhao, and I am the Head Supervisor here on the Pioneer IV." His voice had a soft and soothing cadence with only the slightest hint of an accent. When he spoke, he invited attention and inspired reverence.

He continued, and the kids listened in near-silence. "The thirty of you have chosen the Pioneer Program as not only a career, but a lifestyle, for the rest of your lives. However, your transition to the program is not complete. You can think of your first year here as an extension of your training program. For any questions you have, you can go to a mentor. By this time next year, we intend to send the mentors back home and give you full control of the ship. In order to earn such a responsibility, though, you must know and abide by our rules and policies.

"We in the Pioneer Program do not tolerate violence or bullying. Besides, we have provided you with virtual combat games; you can always settle your disputes there and save yourself the broken bones." A quiet laugh rippled through the group as he continued to speak. "Likewise, we do not allow the handling of unauthorized equipment; only Runners should handle weaponry, and only Navigators should be in the control room. No item from an outside area, including Earth, should come aboard this ship unless it has been tested and approved for safety by a scientist. Also, we allow no articles of clothing other than the white suits provided for you; everything else should be disposed of by the end of the day. Beyond that, each faction has its own set of rules, which your mentors will go over with you tomorrow. A more detailed list of the rules can be found in the handbook, which you can obtain from a mentor. However, I have no worries about your understanding of our policies. You in this room are among the best and the brightest young adults in the world. I trust that you will bring nothing but the finest performance to our program. Now, are there any questions?"

Blinding flash of green light met dark brown and black for a brief moment, illuminating the dark double airlocked compartment. A monotone voice articulated a dry welcome. The green light faded. The room slowly lit. Kira ran a finger over the cosmetic interior. Underneath the ship was a skeleton framework of composites and alloys. Metals. Fiberglasses. Kira breathed in a sigh. The synthesized atmosphere was a mixture of oxygen and nitrogen.

"Please don't touch those. They're very sensitive equipment," a stern voice said. Kira withdrew her hand and turned to face the figure, but the woman was already smiling. "Only kidding. I'm Mrs. Mayfield, your senior caretaker. Welcome aboard the IV Ms. Lee. Apologies for the initial abruptness. He still hasn't achieved sentience you see, he only knows two phrases, you know?" the elderly caretaker smiled again. Kira attempted to smile back. "Dr. Zhao is waiting for you in the lounge", Mrs. Mayfield said. She turned to go. When Kira looked back, she had disappeared. She almost swore she was a hologram.

Kira made her way to the lounge.

Sun took a confused look at Niklaus. He never really was a person to judge someone by his looks, but... It was obvious that Niklaus was doing the whole, "Upsy-downsy" eyeball thing. Where when two people first meet, they do their first impressions by what they wear and how they look. Sun was getting that.

"Uhm, I'm Songharaddh Neang," he smiles, "But people call me Song or Sun, as in Sun Tzu. Its sort of annoying, but I kinda got used to it." he scratches his head.

Songharaddh didn't like meeting new people. Meeting new people, also meant trying to get people to pronounce his name right, and he didn't like that. It was sort of annoying. Then he heard in the distance, "Fighting simulation games." he grinned, the kid was a video game fanatic, but he never had the time to play unfortunately. It was always, "Sun. Do your martial arts training. Bokator this, Bokator that." Bokator was a Cambodian martial arts that disappeared from the world for quite a while, until it was revived in the early 21st century. Its considered incredibly deadly due to it never being altered, unlike Wushu Martial Arts, Muay Thai, and Tae Kwon Do, where it was heavily altered. Sun was trained in the art since he was six.

"So.. Uhm. Lets do first introductions? Considering we'll be roommates for quite a while, I'd like to know who my roommate is." he coughs.

"I'll begin." he smiles, "My name is Songharaddh Neang, people call me Sun Tzu because I'm asian. At least I think that's the reason. I trained in a certain Martial Arts called Bokator, its an ancient martial arts, you probably never even heard of it. I'm a prince of Cambodia, and sort of the only. I have no idea why my parents let me come, I had to beg them. My favorite movie is Star Wars, and obviously, I like to read." he says pointing at the pile of books, "I'll organize that later," he scratches his head, "No. I don't like rice, I ate it for 99 percent of my life, so my body has become reliant on it. For the oddest reason, I can't live without it. I can cook pretty well, at least thats what I believe." he takes a breath, "...and you can borrow my books any time. It's full of fiction, I've always hated reading non-fiction"

"Oh, by the way. Your turn."

"Songharaddh Neang... Hm." Niklaus pronounced it slowly, as if in attempt to taste the foreign flavor. Really, he was just trying to liken it to how he heard other names from Cambodia. "Songharaddh... Did I say that correctly?"

He shifted again until he was reclining against the desk, elbows used as supports. Listening with one ear to the voices in the distance, he began speaking, hurrying through the beginning since Songharaddh already knew it. "My name's Niklaus Talbert, and I'm 16 years old. I've lived most of my life in the French Empire area, but moved to US in my late teens." He paused for a moment, wondering what else he should include.

When we moved, it was devastating for me. I didn't care much about France itself, but- He shook himself inwardly and continued on, shrugging slightly, "There's not much else to say. I don't have much preference for movies or games or food, but I do like analyzing animals and their behavioral patterns. For example, did you know that the- Ah, what am I doing. If I keep this on, you'll be sleeping by the time I'm done."

Turning towards the door, he said, changing the subject, "We ought to go out though. See what Supervisor Zhao Min's talking bout."

"Yeah. You pronounced that right," he grinned, "Surprisingly too. Not many people get it on their second try. As a matter of fact, I don't think anyone got it on their second try, other than the locals. Because you know, everyone knew me there."

"France eh? I always wanted to go to Paris." He chuckled, "Ya know.. French is Cambodia's second language.. or was it English? I'm not sure."
Then realizing he's been ignoring Supervisor Zhao Min for quite a while, "Oh. Whoops. Yeah. I guess we should." He turned around, he never opened the door, so he walked out, and saw Zhao Min and the rest of the crew. Not caring what the others said to him, he merely ignored them and walked towards the front, he looked at Zhao Min.

"Any questions?" he hears, as he takes a look around. He scratches his head, waiting to hear a question. He raises his hand, at first he hesitates but raises it. "So uh. Its not gonna be military rations for food is it? Or is it gonna be well cooked food?"
Hearing the answer, he walks away, heading for Room 8. In it, he looks around for a pair of shorts and a beater/A-shirt. He quickly changed and went to look for Niklaus, "Hey. Niklaus, you want to come to the ..Fighting.. Simulation.. thing with me?"

Niklaus shrugged. "Learning about Asia was one of my other hobbies. I'd lived in Europe and America. The only place I hadn't been yet was Asia. I guess that's why."

"Paris... you don't really want to go there. I know how they all say it's "romantic" or the such, but in reality, it's so crowded locals have difficulty getting from point A to point B. Even with all their secret alleyways." Trailing off, he followed Songharradh out.

No fighting was allowed, neither was any mixing of different worker's equipment. Wear the given clothes. Hm. That shouldn't be too much of a problem. Though, if even one of these rules are bended, I do not think Head Supervisor Zhao Min will be lenient. From the back of the crowd, Niklaus stared intently at Zhao Min. What were his intentions, his motivations, his methods?

Distracted as he was, he only barely heard his roommate's question. "-Fighting Simulation thing with me?"
Turning back to Songharradh, he said, with a ,"Sure. But by the way. It's an unfair advantage to know Bokator when I don't."

Sliding out the room divider, he donned the white suit that had been placed on his bed beforehand. His old clothes in hand, he returned to the common area and said to Songharradh, "Let's go."

Once left alone again, Niklaus sighed and relaxed his tense muscles. Being in the presence of a person such as Songharradh, who seemingly talked about anything and everything that jumped into his mind, for so long a time was tiring if not irritating. But, he consoled himself, pretending to be such does have its advantages. He isn't a usual subject. Though he openly states his royal blood, he shows modesty. He's honest to himself as well as to me, if not somewhat absentminded. But he can be rather observant. He clearly saw how I was measuring him the first time we met, and he shrugged it off. He's willing enough to become friends with me. Hm... An interesting subject indeed. How would he react were my personality to change?

Niklaus shook his head. Later. First, he'd have to become acquainted with his new outfit. It was a slightly loose one-piece suit in the color of white. The white was not nearly as pure as the sun, but rather slightly duller than paper. It contrasted deeply with his hair color, and it made him distinguishable, especially should he attempt to sneak out during the late hours. The inner fabric was soft, but not quite the texture of fur. Rather, it was just slightly smoother than leather. Despite the assumed cold quality associated with leather, it retained heat remarkably well. He had no doubt that it'd release excess heat just as well. The material had a slight sheen on the outside that implied a sort of shield. Perhaps against stains or beverages that might accidentally be spilled upon it. Flexing his arms, he tested its flexibility. The suit ranked highly in that as well. It followed his movements easily, though when he pulled on it, it only gave way slightly. The undergarments and socks were of the same quality and color, but just slightly warmer. The footware fit well and followed the contours of his foot without lacking in support. It had the appearance of formal shoes, but was as comfortable as a regular tennis shoe.

Niklaus stilled in his testings. The complete outfit had been designed well, he felt. Now it was time to accept Songharradh's challenge. He did not feel any particular trepidation, despite his roommate's assumed ability in Bokatar. He may not have learned Bokatar itself, but he had learned techniques from several different fighting styles. Though he'd employed his knowledge in fighting only a few times, he felt confident that he could at least provide Songharradh a decent opponent. And without further thoughts on that, he began making his way towards the Virtual Combat Arena.

Note: Lady Velvet, if you feel that the described suit is incorrect or different from your own version, please tell me so I can edit my post.

So late... Valia blushed in annoyance. She was glad to be in the ship and away from that... mess. What a mess. Daddy just had to have his stupid photoshoot, and a stupid speech, too. Feigning pride, almost forgetting which daughter I am, then tossing me into space without even a goodbye...

The blush turned hot, and tears loomed threateningly in her face. She clutched her hand into a fist and marched quickly in the only room she perceived to be empty, number 8, determined to make sure none saw her cry. Thankfully, no one was in the room, and a bunk lay free and neatly folded. She flopped down the heavy bag--a prop bag for the photoshoot, she scowled, though it had a few approved personal belongings, and, knowing the way her mother thought, probably a few non-approved items that Valia apparently couldn't live without, all packed haphazardly. She means well, at least... Valia mused, before turning to the room, curious about her two roommates. One was loaded high with books, some very old in appearance; she thought she caught a glimpse of a royal crest, Daddy had told her about a boy like that. The other side was very simple, just a sheet moved and a drawer messed with; the empty feeling made her curious and sad, so she shuffled through her prop bag and placed a simple desk light, with twitching, lively colors that danced along its sides on the desk. She certainly wasn't going to use the silly little thing, and if her belonging-less mystery roommate didn't like it there were plenty more people to foist it upon on the ship.

Going back to her side in the middle, she shuffled through the prop bag disinterestedly, before spreading out on the bed in exhaustion. She sighed, but then, a happy thought crossed her mind. She was Free! Her sisters would never bother her again. She wouldn't be leaving in a prison ship, no; the loud and obnoxious family that held her prisoner would soon drift away from her... They would all float away on that little piece of debris in her past called Earth. Here, she could take advantage of the mistake that got her to space, and build her own life, a life finally worth living. As she lay, she dared not look back out the small window above her bed; already willing the planet below her to break away and disappear from her world.