One wakes up in a confined space, looking through a glass panel into a large open room. With a hissing sound the glass slowly opens. The room is just bright enough to move around without to much worry of bumping into anything. To her left is an other chamber like the one she woke up in, except this one has a man with brown hair inside and no obvious way of opening it. Across the room she can see two doors outlined with a red light. To her right she can see five doors outlined in a white light. The air in the room is very stale, and on little on the cold side.

.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

It was the only complete word One could find. Her muscles felt tight and rusted, her own voice loud against her ears. She slid one leg out of her containment unit and then another, steadying herself against the sides. Where was she?

The glass slid closed behind her, sealing the capsule, and she jumped and turned towards the noise. An empty pod, six feet high maybe, with another just like it a few feet away. Was there someone else here? She crossed the distance and pressed on the glass, hoping it would spring open like her own capsule had, but it didn't give way. Through the fog of nitrous and nuclonic gas she saw a man's face, placid and unmoving. She didn't know him.

Her head was pounding. She laid it against the cold capsule glass, but it didn't stop the pain burning through the inside of her skull trying to break the surface. She sank down to the floor and found the pocket hidden on her canvas pants. It was meant to hold padding and reinforcement but she'd dug all that out in order to hide her vapor pen from.....who? She realized she didn't know. She remembered her pen not being allowed in the capsule, but when or where she'd entered and for what purpose was all gone. She could only pluck a few emotions from her memory, fear mostly and frustration. She assembled the parts of the pen while her thoughts drifted backwards in time, searching for anything she did know. She drew the vapor deep into her lungs and let her mind settle. Nothing. She was an empty vessel.

At the very least, she could search the place. Maybe find whoever was running this outfit. One drug herself to her feet and headed for the set of 5 doors lining one wall.

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Two groaned, glaring at the apparent glass door in front of her. At least, she thought it was glass. What else could it be? Standing up, she balanced herself against the wall and simply blinked a couple times when the door opened. She moved slowly, trying not to cause the pounding in her head to become more intense. With a frown, she made her way out of the room, only just moving in time before the door shut behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she huffed, almost looking offended by the fact that the door had dared to close. It was then that she heard a noise and out of curiosity, she looked up. There was another room like hers, at least she thought so. She raked her brain, trying to remember what they were. It was then that she realised that she couldn't remember anything.

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WHAP!

The sound of impact was the first sensation that passed through his mind. The second was the sharp pain emanating from his forehead. “FUNKY BUTTLOVING!” was the third, which came thundering out of his mouth in reflex and echoed in the confined place, just as his hands came up to rub the painful spot. A quick shake of the head was given as he opened his brown eyes to shake the cobwebs and take in the world around him.

He realized that he must have jerked awake and slammed his forehead into the transparent material directly in front of his face. His first impression of his immediate surroundings was that the material couldn’t have been glass, as the impact would have been more than sufficient to crack glass. Even reinforced glass would have had an impact web, albeit significantly smaller than normal glass. His second impression was to wonder how he knew that. That triggered the rapid-fire train of thinking that led him to realize that he had no idea how he knew what he knew or, more to the point, who he actually was. He DID know that he needed to get out of this confinement and get to the bridge. Huh? Bridge? No, questions later. Bridge first, thought the man.

He reached forward and pressed hard on the glass, immediately feeling hydraulics take over and serve to open the pod completely. The man bounded from his confinement like it threatened to retake him and landed in a crouch on metal flooring. Brown eyes gazed upwards and first registered a door opening directly in front of him. That was all he needed for muscle memory to take over. He pushed off of his back foot into a dead sprint through the door and into the hall, dimly registering two females and other pods in passing. The bridge was his priority. But why? He pushed forward, barely slowing to take turns, until he emerged into a room he instinctively knew as the bridge.

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One passed through the door and into a narrow hallway. A few access panels sat open along the wall, the interface streaming with numbers she didn't understand. She pressed the page button along the side, instinctively bracing herself for the harsh static on the open line, but it never came. The line was dead, or maybe there just wasn't anyone there to receive.

A clatter in the room she had just left sent a shock up her spine and she jumped away from the panel just in time to see the man from the second capsule hurl himself through the doorway and into the lift. It snapped closed and shot up out of sight, and he was gone as quickly as he'd come.

"Maniac," she mumbled.

Still, he was awake, and that was more than she had a minute ago. Maybe there was another way up. One began opening doors, panels, everything she could think of, feeling her way around the perimiter of the hall, before finally locating the stairwell. She took them two at a time, hoping he hadn't gone far. She couldn't afford to lose him.

Past the landing and down another small corridor, the man from the capsule stood transfixed, staring into a massive viewscreen that stretched across the far wall. On the screen were more numbers, coordinates maybe or sensor measurements, and a map of the stars. A point of light stood out for every celestial body, with no indication she could see of their place in all that mess.

She spoke firmly, "Do you know what all that means?"

Stepping into the room after only the briefest pause, Three allowed his eyes to sweep over the various consoles and screens before settling on the massive viewscreen just as One followed him into the room. He heard her question, but declined to answer for the moment. He was still following the muscle memory, afraid it would drift off if he were too distracted by questions like "Who am I?" and "Do you know what all that means?" Instead, he brushed his hand across a large center console and, after a few quick keystrokes, a display started listing off damage reports.

Three shook his head slightly as he took in the . "Not expressly. I just somehow... knew. I woke up in some strange pod and knew something had to be wrong. I just kind of followed my feet here, then let my fingers do the walking. I'm afraid that's all I've got, for the moment. I don't know what these reports mean for the long term, but if we're in space and all of that is wrong, then I DO know we're in some pretty deep trouble."

Three then turned and squared his shoulders even with the woman. The action served to make him seem equal parts intimidating and inquisitive. He let his dark brown eyes sweep over the woman, immediately sizing her up as someone used to her opinion being taken seriously. He could also somehow tell that she was like him; someone who could take information as it came and could be confident enough to try to make the best decision possible with the limited information available. "So, are you going to tell me who you are and why I'm here? More to the point... who the hell am I?" The last question from his mouth seemed to embarrass him, as if it were shameful for him to have allowed himself to forget a key bit of information as his own identity.

Perfect. One placed her vapor pen between her lips to buy her time before answering. She stole a glance at the screen again, and then back at the man's face.

"I am a woman suffering from retrograde amnesia. Possibly post traumatic, but it's also possible that the amnesia is transient global. You sound like a man suffering the same. I woke up in a mechanical capsule downstairs, right next to yours. The pressurized nature makes me think stasis, but there are too many possibilities to count. If you are correct, and we are in danger, then we'd better find whoever it is that's supposed to be monitoring us and let them know they fucked up."

"Do you know how to operate the comm system? I tried downstairs and had no success."

She stepped past him to the control panel and began sorting through the labyrinthine computer system. As she tapped through a series of commands that might as well be Greek, one readout caught her eye.

"Life signs."

The first thing Four became aware of was cramp, his back felt like it hadn't been stretched in years, the second was that he was staring through a transparent panel. He tried to order his thoughts, to remember how he ended up in a pod of some kind but his brain was sluggish, slow to respond. He didn't like that not one bit and focussed on clearing his mind of the fog that seemed to be residing there. After a few moments he felt more alert and awake but things had not become any clearer to him and he a felt the first hint of anxiety. The transparent panel took that moment to move and he realised it had opened, he sucked in a large lungful of air and stepped out of the pod only staggering slightly. He took a moment to orient himself and be sure he wasn't going to fall over and then looked around the room. His anxiety grew as he realised that it wasn't familiar to him, any more than the pod was and there was more, the more he tried to remember the more he realised that he couldn't remember anything. Not even his own name.

Focus! He told himself fiercely and spent a few minutes stretching and checking himself over for any sign of physical injury. He found none and other than his memory issues seemed to be in good health. His next immediate thought was that he needed to find a weapon, he had no idea why that was his first instinct or if he even knew how to use one but that's what his instincts were telling him. He noted another person in the room, a female looking somewhat bewildered, but nothing else except that there seemed to be two exits one in which two other figures seemed to have recently left through. Deciding to hold off on following them for the moment he approached the woman, he needed more information. Information on his situation was critical in order for him to decide on a course of action.

"Do you know what is happening?" He asked getting straight to the point.

The first thing Four became aware of was cramp, his back felt like it hadn't been stretched in years, the second was that he was staring through a transparent panel. He tried to order his thoughts, to remember how he ended up in a pod of some kind but his brain was sluggish, slow to respond. He didn't like that not one bit and focussed on clearing his mind of the fog that seemed to be residing there. After a few moments he felt more alert and awake but things had not become any clearer to him and he a felt the first hint of anxiety. The transparent panel took that moment to move and he realised it had opened, he sucked in a large lungful of air and stepped out of the pod only staggering slightly. He took a moment to orient himself and be sure he wasn't going to fall over and then looked around the room. His anxiety grew as he realised that it wasn't familiar to him, any more than the pod was and there was more, the more he tried to remember the more he realised that he couldn't remember anything. Not even his own name.

Focus! He told himself fiercely and spent a few minutes stretching and checking himself over for any sign of physical injury. He found none and other than his memory issues seemed to be in good health. His next immediate thought was that he needed to find a weapon, he had no idea why that was his first instinct or if he even knew how to use one but that's what his instincts were telling him. He seemed to be in a hangar bay of some kind for he could see some form of fighter craft resting in the centre of the room, for a brief moment he considered getting in it and flying away but he dismissed the notion as foolish. He had no idea how to pilot one (at least he didn't know if he could) and knew nothing about where they were. Flying out into unknown space would just be plain suicide.

There was nothing in here for him to use as a weapon and his feet took him towards the exit, hardly knowing what he was doing or how he knew it, he unlocked the door and exited the hangar bay. The corridor he ended up in was dark except for various lights flashing at intervals. He saw no one else and wondered where everyone could be, it was after all logical to assume he wasn't alone on board. He chuckled to himself, That would certainly turn things from bad to worse wouldn't it
His instincts were telling him to go left and he followed them staying close to the wall until he reached what he assumed was his destination. He paused when he reached the weapon lockers, not questioning how he knew what they were, and breathed deeply feeling more out of breath than he expected.

He woke with a gasping of breath, a sharp inhalation as a hissing alerted him to some sort of mechanical movement and compressed air released itself. The pressure in his lungs equalized almost instantaneously and he blinked slowly against the lights to take in his surroundings. There were others in the room, and he looked down as he took a step to take himself out of the pod and into the room.

Thoughts began swirling in his mind like a smoke, something intangible and when he tried to reach for them, they dissipated into the air. What was his name? What was he doing here? Where was here to begin with?

When he attempted to speak, his voice croaked, as if unaccustomed to being used. Muscles stretched in his throat as he cleared it before he tried again. ❝Dammae.❞ He shook his head, looking around once more, eyes scanning over all the equipment in the room. He wanted to say they brought back some memories for him, but he couldn't even give himself that comfort.

Were there others? He didn't know, couldn't recall. He couldn't stay in that empty room for much longer though. With another shake of his head, he headed out the room and towards the other side of the ship.

Six

She was perhaps the luckiest member on board at the moment. As the life support continued to fail and the air was being used up by the newly awakened crew members, Six slept in a comatose like state. Meaning she was using far less oxygen consumption than the rest. However, her luck ran out when she gasped awake taking in the stale air in the stasis pod. Freaked out but having been in worse situations, Six looked around the small space touching the glass that separated her from the ship. Her hand jerked away when it slid open. Okay, now we're gettin' somewhere. Sitting up, she took in the empty room save for a pod similar to her own. Crawling out and landing hard on the floor, Six stood on disused legs. Wonderful... She walked over to the other stasis pod and inspected in. It appeared to have been freshly vacated yet no one else was around.

Biting her lip, she started towards the stairs. Something was off. The air feels stale, like in the pod... Almost thin. Her bare feet softly padded up the stairs recognizing nothing about the ship she was on. She would question that later, but right now she needed to know what was happening. She heard voices and was about to head towards them when she went the opposite way. She let her feet take her to the engine room where nothing was working properly. She stared at the mess realizing she knew nothing about it, but having a desire to tinker. She wandered over to the computer, reading the screen that told her that basically the ship was dead in the water. Life support was at minimum and failing. The engines were not turning. Fighter bays were on lock down. There were six signs of life, all congregated in one place except herself.

Pressing a button on the wall she spoke, "Does, um anyone know anythin' about engines? Ours isn't working' and I could use some help since I don't technically know anythin' about them. We also need someone to work on life support... It isn't workin'. Thanks!" She signed off and turned towards the heart of the ship. "Whelp, my hands are itching to touch you better listen to them. What's the worst that can happen? I screw up and we die. Looks like it'll happen anyway if we don't get you started." She walked over and squatted. "Talk to me beautiful."

Six

She was perhaps the luckiest member on board at the moment. As the life support continued to fail and the air was being used up by the newly awakened crew members, Six slept in a comatose like state. Meaning she was using far less oxygen consumption than the rest. However, her luck ran out when she gasped awake taking in the stale air in the stasis pod. Freaked out but having been in worse situations, Six looked around the small space touching the glass that separated her from the ship. Her hand jerked away when it slid open. Okay, now we're gettin' somewhere. Sitting up, she took in the empty room save for a pod similar to her own. Crawling out and landing hard on the floor, Six stood on disused legs. Wonderful... She walked over to the other stasis pod and inspected in. It appeared to have been freshly vacated yet no one else was around.

Biting her lip, she started towards the stairs. Something was off. The air feels stale, like in the pod... Almost thin. Her bare feet softly padded up the stairs recognizing nothing about the ship she was on. She would question that later, but right now she needed to know what was happening. She heard voices and was about to head towards them when she went the opposite way. She let her feet take her to the engine room where nothing was working properly. She stared at the mess realizing she knew nothing about it, but having a desire to tinker. She wandered over to the computer, reading the screen that told her that basically the ship was dead in the water. Life support was at minimum and failing. The engines were not turning. Fighter bays were on lock down. There were six signs of life, all congregated in one place except herself.

Pressing a button on the wall she spoke, "Does, um anyone know anythin' about engines? Ours isn't working' and I could use some help since I don't technically know anythin' about them. We also need someone to work on life support... It isn't workin'. Thanks!" She signed off and turned towards the heart of the ship. "Whelp, my hands are itching to touch you better listen to them. What's the worst that can happen? I screw up and we die. Looks like it'll happen anyway if we don't get you started." She walked over and squatted. "Talk to me beautiful."

Three continued to look over the instruments of the bridge as he took listened to One’s words. Apparently, he was a multitasker before he lost his memory, because he was able to easily absorb the information coming at him from the multiple sources and disseminate it. “Transient global is short term, so I doubt that’s the case. I don’t think PTSD would have affected us both in the exact same manner. It’s highly unlikely. Keep coming up with theories, though. I like where your head is at – this memory issue definitely needs to be solved. However, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

Three stepped away from one bank of consoles and stepped across the room to a newly activated bank. The man’s footfalls echoed against the floor as he stepped. ”Communications may be the least of our worries. If I’m reading these damage reports correct – and I half hope I’m not – we’ve got power down across all systems and life support is failing. That’s our priority. We can’t do anything if we run out of oxygen or freeze to death,” said the man as he exhaled a visible breath.

Just then he heard the com system kick to life on the bridge. An unfamiliar feminine voice reiterated exactly what he’d just concluded, himself. He glanced over to One and gave a slightly morbid, half-hearted grin. ”There’s your com system.” Three took another two large steps over to where the com panel was and cued it up almost immediately after the female voice stopped speaking. ”Hey, whoever you are, if you can repair it, have at the engines. I’m sure if we get them running, it’ll help our life support issue.”

The display near six changes to read "Anything for you. Good... It appears my clock is off, standby... Good morning. Ship is on emergency tertiary power. Please switch to secondary backup power to run system diagnostic. WARNING Due to failing life support crew will be rendered unconscious within one hour. Power failure in all other systems within half an hour."

The displays on the bridge change to a flashing red screen then read, " WARNING Due to failing life support crew will be rendered unconscious within one hour. Power failure in all other systems within half an hour."

Four finds: 1 MAC Revolver loaded with 6 spare rounds, 4 HAR 2s each loaded with two spare mags, 1 Grenade Launcher with 2 of ever ammo type, and 8 SIPs fully charged in their chargers.

Six

Walking over to the com system again, Six replied, "I'll try my best..." I don't actually know anything about engines or at least not that I can remember. She returned to the engine and squatted again, staring at it. "Oh shit!" Six fell back on her butt as the display next to her greeted her. "I mean crap, my apologies. I ah, didn't know you were sentient. Ah good morning. Okay, secondary backup power is..." She fiddled around until she found the right buttoms to press. "Okay, running diagnostic of the ship. Hope everything is okay excluding the fact that in less than an hour we're all gunna be dead. Nope not going there, happy thoughts. Let's see." Finding a tool box and sitting near the engine again she started carefully looking over it. "Alright my beautiful machine, what's wrong with you and how can I help you?" She kept glancing at the display waiting for the diagnosis, as she did so she plugged and unplugged whatever she felt needed to be. At this point listening to her gut was all she had since she could remember nothing.

[[Delete. Posted in wrong location.]]

Engines... That word elicited some kind of response in his brain as he heard it over the speakers, even if he couldn't recognize the voice. It took him a moment to find a com panel of his own to respond, and by that time, someone else had already began a conversation of sorts. He answered back once the other male voice was done. ❝Ah'll bae right dere.❞

Only, he didn't exactly know where "there" was, which was probably a problem he should have addressed while at the comm panel. Too proud to ask for directions? Perhaps, but it didn't matter now as he took off at a brisk pace to his left. He passed a weight room, peering in briefly past the glass into the machines inside before snorting. Not a room he would be needing.

He continued on until he entered a room with buzzing machines that sent an all-at-once familiar and unfamiliar chill down his spine. He belonged here, in some sense of the word. He looked to the girl who was unplugging things. A screen showed a countdown to something, possibly when their luck ran out and the ship exploded or something.

[color=green][b]❝'ey, lassie, whit yae workin' on dere?❞ He inclined his head towards whatever was in front of her before going over to the tool box and running his hands over some of the tools, an ache forming in his chest as he longed to remember why these seemed so familiar. Some instinct drove him forward before he got an answer, and he picked up a few tools before heading to the engine and beginning his inspection for any potential problems.

"Shit. One hour is not a lot of time," One felt a cold tendril of fear unfold inside her, but externally she simply furrowed her brow, "The CO2 poisoning will be a problem well before we pass out, not to mention delirium. This computer shows six people."

She traced her fingers along the display. Six souls, needing six rounds of nacent injections to help them recover from stasis, six vitapacks to equalize their blood sugar, some way to oxygenate their blood, and maybe after all of this was over six shots of whiskey. Would you carry whiskey into space? She couldn't think of a better use of a cargo hold.

One picked up the com handset and dialed into the hanger, "To the man who just came out of Pod 4: This is the Bridge. We're in a fair amount of trouble, so however shit you may be feeling, you have an assignment. In the fighter jet next to you there should be forced respirators. Center console of the cockpit, they'll look similar to doctor's masks. Grab as many as they have and then report to the Bridge. We need any information you can give us."

She hung up the com and caught Three's steady expression. The amnesia was a low priority but they suddenly had a little time to kill waiting for Four and Six.

"We've only been out of stasis five minutes, we can't rule out transient global. But really, my money is on those stasis pods. They should never be used without one conscious crew member to monitor, there's too many variables to trust to automation. A drop in the gas levels or too much of the anesthetic cocktail and you could kill a person. Or traumatize them."

Six

With a start, Six turned to look at the man with a heavy accent. "Fixin' it." She frowned, that wasn't 100% true since she didn't know what was wrong. "Makin' it better would be more accurate. More efficient. This piece." She reached under and pulled out a small chunk of engine. "Just mucks things up. You can bypass this by connectin' this," She went back under and connected two pieces. "To this. Don't need the middle man now, but have to tweak this a bit to make sure there isn't an overload." Smearing some oil on her cheek once finish with preventing an engine overload, she smiled. "Now tell me what you need help with cause I don't think I know engines. Oh!" She nearly bounced in excitement. "Meet the ship. It's communicating through this panel. Right now I'm running a system diagnostic and it should be done soon." She tapped her finger on her knee before asking, "Do you remember anything? I'm kinda drawing a blank on everything..."

He had to admit, he was impressed. Parts of the engine, bits of schematic, the all came to his mind as she spoke, and he couldn't help the awe at her cleverness. He nodded appreciatively before looking over the engine some more and came up with something that had the semblance of a plan. He became distracted, however, by her exclamation of excitement and looked over to the monitor she indicated. ❝Communicate? Yae mean dis blasted thin' can tell us whit's wrung?❞ In any other circumstance, he probably wouldn't have believed it, but with the current amnesia over his mind, anything seemed possible. He set to work quietly as he contemplated this.

❝Naw.❞ He shook his head sadly, pausing in his work for a moment. ❝Ah cannae dink of a damn thing efore ah woke ta dis mess.❞ Try as he might, nothing would come, and for now, he resolved himself to stop bothering with that and work on stabilizing their current situation.

❝If yae wannae make yerself useful, help mae lift up dis chasis so ah can git a bettar look at the problum.❞ He pointed to indicate a piece he had just unscrewed from the main engine.

Four paused in his cataloguing of the weapons in the locker, as he felt dizziness overwhelm him, and pressed his hands to the wall to steady himself. After a moment it passed and he straightened breathing as evenly as he could. The voices over the comm system had indicated that there was trouble with the life support system and unless fixed it would only get worse. Knowing all he could do was focus on the task at hand, the only thing he knew how to do it seemed, he returned to the locker. He had just pulled out what he knew, somehow, was a grenade launcher when the comm came to life again.

To the man who just came out of Pod 4: This is the Bridge. We're in a fair amount of trouble, so however shit you may be feeling, you have an assignment. In the fighter jet next to you there should be forced respirators. Center console of the cockpit, they'll look similar to doctor's masks. Grab as many as they have and then report to the Bridge. We need any information you can give us.

The woman sounded reasonably calm despite the situation but Four could hear the undercurrent of tension in her tone, so the shit really was hitting the fan then. Oddly enough he did not feel as panicked as he thought he ought to be. If anything his mind sharpened and he felt more alert. Mentally filing it away for thought later he turned back the way he had come leaving the weapons where they were for the moment. It took him short work to return to the hangar bay now that he knew the corridor and he headed purposefully towards the craft sitting silent in the centre. After some effort and examination he managed to get into the craft and find the masks the woman had mentioned. After searching the cockpit he found two of the respirators and after some experimentation had removed them.

Back at the weapons locker he placed the masks with the pile of weapons and continued on down the corridor reaching a door identical to the one he had unlocked after just waking up. He entered the appropriate information to unlock the door and he saw another hangar bay. He figured he must have known about it without remembering, amnesia really was a confusing pain in the ass. He managed to get two more masks from the craft and returned to the weapons locker with them and a large sack he had found. He loaded the weapons and the masks into it and hefted it onto his shoulder. Though he hadn't been slow in gathering the equipment he had begun feeling more out of breath and he realised that the oxygen was clearly running out fast. Taking a deep breath he began the walk to the bridge.

The trek there felt like it had taken him eons and when he finally reached it he was breathing heavily and unsteady on his feet. He dropped the bag to his feet and focussed on his breathing.