Carrier Space (Unfinished)

'Par for the course. Oh, I hate that stupid game.' With one grunt and the last of his ambition, the sore hands finally managed to pull the large and heavy metal cylinder. The rocking and trembling of the surface beneath and his exhaustion had made it a several-minute struggle to remove the item from a hole in which it was never designed to fit. Taking no break to wipe the sweat from his face, he backed out of the tunnel several feet and into a sparse hallway. Debris, steam, and other signs of damage were the new decoration throughout the entire ship. "Systems check." His words were clear and firm but received a garbled, incomprehensible response and looking through the ship or even the computers to gain more information would take too long. 'Okay, that's not going to work. Environmental controls are stable for now and it seems that the engine and navigation are fine, but all of the files are either inaccessible or too damaged to retrieve.' He made his way through the hallways, amazed throughout the disaster area that such a small cargo ship with quite a reputation for its speed and capacity was designed for so much uncluttered space. Considering the discomfort of the officials' helmets when they was unnecessary for a self-regenerating environment, he had removed it after his arrival scans determined the air was safe. The carrier ship, despite all of its pieces laying about, was free of any evidence so far that the crew was dead. They could have been sucked into space through the enormous hole missing from the hull before the computer was able to fill it with the force field still in place, but that coupled with the possibility that they also could have suffocated before the computer was able to restore the environment were two concepts that he battled hard to keep out of his conscious stream of thoughts; instead, he chose to focus on that which was around him and use the training of absolute focus on every detail with the hopes it would save a life. He found the kitchen and dining area holding a table with five equal chairs. None of them sat at the head of the table and he determined that it was likely there were just as many crew members and that the captain ate alone. Their weapons room seemed to be nonexistant in his search although he had discovered everything else: the cockpit, a small medical office with beds for each member, the engines themselves, and five very comfortable crew quarters. By the time that he doubled back to the medical office, he nearly thought that he had searched everywhere. He found no ready room, which was not unusual for so small a vessel, and discovered a hidden hallway segmenting off another. The corridor would have been difficult to find for anyone who was unaware of its placement even if they chose to rely on scans for what could not be seen. The very existence of the space was a surprise to him and its contents a relief: hidden off to the side were five standing stasis pods. As he approached, the relief transformed into a startling fear: sparks flew every few seconds from the damaged wiring above the pods. Holding his breath, he opened them slowly, one by one, setting each person onto the floor, until he came to the one furthest on his left. The pod had sustained more damage than the rest and the control panel was not functioning. The first two began to wake as he was forcing his way into the final one and they were in absolute confusion.

"What are you doing? Stop that." A man, the first one he woke, was attempting to stand on wobbling legs.

"She's trapped; I have no idea how long you were in there and we need to check you out, so try to stay still. All of the pods were damaged."

The recently woken man took a couple of seconds to look over the pod and he could see the truth in the strangers' words. Looking around at the other three that had been freed, they were strangers as well. Nothing about the surroundings were recognizable to himself or, by the expressions of those same others, those that had survived with him. He was brought out of his thoughts by the man he was able to recognize as some sort of a guard who had finished his work on the remaining pod.

"Her pulse is weak. We need to get to the medical bay now."

Very little coaxing was involved to convince the rest of the crew to follow him. Once the unconscious woman had been carefully laid on a bed and checked over, their rescuer began to do the same for them. Questions were asked of him and he answered the best he could, but most of the answers were a simple, "honestly, I really don't know." While all seemed to be in good health, the side affect of memory loss had struck each of them. The damage in their pods due to their proximity was all in the same place and became less from the left to the right.

"Do you think our memories will come back?"

"That's another good question. Few people have had side affects like this from damage to stasis pods, so there aren't enough case studies to have any facts. Most of the time, memories do come back, and I figure it'll be quick for you because you would have to be a tight crew to run as well and long as you did."
"Who are we?"

"The ship is a cargo vessel-"

"Cargo?" The shorter female scrunched her nose. "That's all I am- a delivery girl?"

"Actually, you've made quite a name for yourself. Always honest, fast, and you can carry as much as a large cargo vessel despite being the smallest one in space. You've never lost a delivery and have a ton of business."

"How did we do that?"

"Nobody knows and I didn't find out while I was looking around. However, I did find your rooms, so if you want to explore your lives, I can give you directions."

"Why not just show us?"

He nodded to their unconscious friend. "There's little more terrifying than waking up alone with no idea where or who you are. She needs a little cleaning up while I wait."

They seemed a bit wary of leaving him alone despite his kindness. One of the men decided that he would remain to ask more questions, explaining that he felt more comfortable in the medical bay. A bit of exploration revealed a long mirror in a storage cabinet where he could see himself. Standing tall at 6'7", he was a broad-shouldered, visibly muscular man with short brown hair, hazel-honey eyes, and naturally half-dark tanned skin. His face was clear of any signs of facial hair and he had no noticeable identifying marks of any kind. Glancing over at the officer, who had earlier explained the state he had found the ship in ad that, being two weeks late for a delivery, they had been reported as missing and his team had been looking for them, he was surprised. The officer seemed to be a gentle and caring person rather than the more coarse men that often filled the ranks of all forms of police in space. He moved gently and focused on his work wiping the blood and black smudges from her long hair and off of her face. Once he was done, a look of recognition slowly covered his own face as he looked over his work.

"Keira..."

Before the man could question the name, her eyes opened and rather than looking around, she bolted up.

"Hey, hey, Keira, relax. You're safe; it's me-" his reassurance was interrupted by a swift right hook that pushed him back several steps.