Project Second Terra, It's the end of the world.

IT WASN'T THE END OF THE WORLD...
BUT THAT WASN'T TO SAY IT WASN'T GRAVE..

"That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane -
Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn -
world serves its own needs, regardless of your own needs. "

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Visit the plot page, located here.


Like Earth, there were trees and various other greenery and foliage, but the vegetation was decidedly different...and odd. When the scientists had claimed that they had found Earth's estranged twin sister, they hadn't been exactly exaggerating. The air, while filled with various foreign compounds, was fresh and not toxic, there seemed to be multiple sources of water, and while many new dangers, poisons, and issues were sure to arise, the arrangement couldn't have been any more perfect unless the scientists had been able to actually clone the planet.

A flurry of clothing articles, toiletries, and other belongings exploded on the embankment of green where the ship had landed and the colonists were disboarding from the ship. Libertas One. What a horrible name, what a horrible planet, and goddamnit--

"Where is it? Where is it, damn you?!"
The man rifled through his luggage, tearing out the lining of the burgundy bags, with little care for the individuals standing nearby.

The Rush, it had to be here...he smuggled a fortune of the drug onto the ship, and within compartments that couldn't possibly have been found! Raking a hand through his sandy blonde hair, the man slammed his duffle bag on the ground, delivering a swift kick to the luggage at his feet.

"Fuck it all," Bennett hissed under his breath, glaring at the sorry few that had the misfortune of disboarding near him. How the captain of the ship -- or one of those damn, high and mighty scientist types -- had found his stash was beyond him, but he'd just lost what would have been the main currency of this new planet in one fell swoop. Why the hell would he have signed up for this trip if it wasn't for the appeal of an easy life that he had enjoyed upon Earth? The fuck if he was going to stay here; the second one of these ships was packed up and prepared to head back, he was going with them... except, that was a new dilemma. The ships would not be returning. And beyond that, there was a rumor rapidly spreading around the newly arrived citizens-to-be of this planet that the second ship hadn't even made the trip. Sucks for them, but he was still grieving the loss of his drug inventory.

The man was not tall, by any means, and dressed in a plain enough fashion, like most of the others gathered about, gawking at the bizarre planet. If anything, he tended to look average, aside from his laughing, practically mocking green gaze. His skin was pale, but that was common among these people, they'd been on a ship for how long, again? While average, there was something memorable about the man.... perhaps it was the clear irritation and frustration emanating from his form...or the way in which he was quick to smirk and...say something none-too-appealing. At any rate, he seemed someone to not cross.

"Fuck it all," the man repeated, muttering to himself as he grabbed his luggage, slinging it over his back. It took a few additional moments to collect the various items he'd thrown in his rage, but it wasn't long before all of his luggage was repacked, and his scowl had faded to only mild frustration. He ascertained, accurately, of course, that if his inventory of drugs were missing, that his gun was as good as gone as well. There were some other items that he had hidden among his belongings and he could only hope that those were still secured and that he would enjoy a semblence of the luxury and wealth he had too confidently assumed he would have access to.

His gaze was drawn to the various individuals huddled together, making the short pilgrimage to the various erected tents. It was as they had explained. Tents would be provided for each family, those single or without a family would be given a tent to share; typically six to eight persons per plastic home. Within the next few days, as individuals were settled, work assignments would be handed out; buildings, homes, stores, and the works would all be completed within the month. A new society would be created as quickly and efficiently as possible. And it meant that every individual would be needed and expected for work.

James Bennett, though typically referred to as simply "Bennett", had no intention of assisting in these endeavors. At least, not in the same capacity as the eager faces all around him. And, he was determined to be given a tent on his own; where he'd be able to continue with...less than legal activities. No society could be complete without an escape, without Rush, the drug that was expensive, but sent you on a trip that could never be matched.

Those thoughts ended abruptly as the line dwindled and he was given his work assignments, as well as directed to the group of individuals that would be his new... "roommates". Snorting, he moved past the crew, that served as the new government of this place, who thought it was oh so humorous to put him on construction detail. He wasn't puny by any stretch of the imagination, but seeing the average built and height man working to build anything was laughable. Eying the various individuals that would share the plastic abode that would become home for the next month or so, Bennett dropped his bags to the ground, smirk touching his lips, "Hi-Oh roommies, we going to need to work out the chores list now or later?"

This was a joke. Even more of a joke than his shitty sarcasm. The hopeful expressions on those nearby and the general feeling of elation of the entire colony was disgusting. These people think this was summer camp or something?

The only comfort in this situation was the fact that he would soon have a business up and running and would, no doubt, become the most popular person on this wretched new planet. To wealth, to drugs, and to sin.

A woman of athletic build gradually walked down the cargo ramp of the large ship she had inhabited for what seemed like ages. As her feet touched the soil of the New Earth, she stopped and straightened her back, surveying her surroundings, allowing her dark gray uniform to straighten from its wrinkles. The daylight made her squint. A light breeze caught her short blond hair. It felt incredibly good. She hadn't washed her hair in ages and it was now dry as wheat, but the breeze got through the layer of dirt and allowed her scalp to breathe again. As much as she loved the "tin can", she had to admit the wind felt good. It beat gluing onto the air conditioning on the ship.

She grinned slightly as she patted her pocket. She had managed to grab some Rush from some pathetic shadow of a man. Opportunity knocked and the Major-General of the New Colony, Addison Reed, had not been afraid to grab it. She was known, among the military personnel, to have some vices. They were mainly rumors, but the Captain knew about her drinking problem that raised its ugly head some time to time. On this trip she had not gotten enough to drink. She had emptied her flask within the first day of journey. She had also had to cut her smoking habits down drastically. Good thing was that she had plenty of cigarettes in storage because of that.

Lighting a cigarette she had been hiding in her pocket, Reed headed towards the meeting site, where she could see all the high-ranked officers stand in a huddle. All that was missing was her, it seemed. As she looked at the civilians she couldn't help but to mentally sneer at them. During this journey she had suddenly found herself in a position of power higher than she could have ever imagined to have on Earth. She didn't care for his new found status as she was first and foremost a pilot. Trained to fight and fly, not to work as a politician, caring for legal systems and needs of everyday civilians. Politicians made decision slowly and carefully, she was not used to the slow pace. She was a smart woman, but she saw that she didn't have time to weigh things for days. Fast pace, fast decisions, that was where she felt at home. Strategy was familiar to her, but she was a battle strategist and she didn't see how she could ever use that for something like politics. She left that end to the Captain.

Reed took a drag from her cigarette and stopped right next to the officers, giving a cold glance, with her signature crooked smirk, at the nearest group of civilians. She had well heard the sarcastic comment about homework and she felt like teaching the man a lesson, military style, but instead she maintained her discipline around fellow officers. "So, what's crackin' Sirs?" She turned to the officers, giving them a stern military salute as she blew out some cigarette smoke.

For some, going any amount of time without speaking could be quiet a feat. For others, that was hardly difficult at all.
Yet, there was a difference between being quiet and speaking maybe only a handful of words for the months that they spent on the ship, Libertas One. In fact, it was a safe enough estimation to say that one particular man had sighed more often than he spoke actual words. As far as introverts went, he was a bit on the extreme side.
That wasn't to say that he loathed or distrusted people. He knew full well that, as a whole, people were generally good...if they weren't, society would have dissolved a lot sooner than it had back on Earth. People meant well...but sometimes their intentions, not their actions, were the only good things about them.

For better or for worse, he didn't speak all that often to people, as had been made glaringly obvious by the trip. Oftentimes he didn't feel comfortable in social situations, and that discomfort was only increased if he happened to be experiencing one of his daily migraines. He'd certainly put forth the effort to get along with others if they were willing to extend the same courtesy to him, but he'd do so with a minimal amount of speech.

The male had been one of the first to disembark from the ship. Aside from his clothing and other assorted essentials, he possessed few personal items that he had brought along on this trip. As such, it had been easier to gather his things together in order to leave the ship. A few others had walked with him, though he didn't bother to glance at them, choosing to keep his gaze fixed firmly on the ground in front of him as he walked. He moved to the side and away from the ramp once he had set foot upon the planet, lifting his gaze to glance about his new surroundings. Curiosity was the only emotion readily identified within the man's face and gaze, though he wasn't exactly excited or elated as some of the others were.
He agreed with their unspoken thoughts, though...this planet was certainly better than the one they had left behind.
With that thought, he lifted a gloved hand to his forehead to rub at his temple. He had a feeling that he'd have a reason to be experiencing a migraine soon.

After a few moments of massaging his forehead, Qismat Abel dropped his hand back to his side. He began to continue on in order to get his assignment as well as learn who he would be living with for a while, though paused at the tirade of curses that exploded behind him. Though he knew better than to, he glanced over his shoulder at the source of the noise, both of his eyebrows lifting as the furious blonde male glared at his luggage as though it had murdered his puppy. Qismat decidedly did not want to know what would cause someone to glare so malevolently at an inanimate object, so he quickly turned his attention to the area in front of him and continued on his way. He pitied whoever would wind up as that one's roommate.

Once he had received his assignment, Qismat silently waited as his roommates gathered around him. The long blonde haired male was careful to keep a comfortable distance between himself and the others, and as they seemed to respect his bubble space, he felt that he'd have no qualms getting along with any of them.
As if that thought alone jinxed him, the luggage loather made his way over towards the group Qismat was in.
The male stared at the smug and sarcastic man, regarding him with a measure of horror. When the other man spoke, Qismat lifted his hand to his forehead again, gently pressing his fingers to his skin.
After closing his eyes, he sighed. This was going to cause more migraines than it was worth.

All things being considered, this wasn't so bad. Though Dameon Knot doubted others would see it as such. To them, 'so bad' was exactly this, separated from earth, its luxuries, their families, friends, station, life, and what had they gotten in return? A planet more foreign than it was familiar. Or so the people would think, and Dameon was very good at reading people.

The fact that he had...a way with people, did not escape him, but neither did he ever employ his charming attitude. There was just a quality of him, that made others gravitate towards him with trust. Maybe it was his open face that made others see him as a good person to talk to, or maybe it was his green eyes, that drew people in with their intensity. Or maybe it was simply his personality, which was seen as 'Laid back and professional" Dameon didn't know.

And at this point, didn't honestly care. Well...he did care somewhat, unintentionally it made his work easier, people trusting in him. And being on a new planet.....the people needed someone to trust. And not to sound like a whiny hero, but why him?

He was by no means egotistical, nor a slacker. If he had to give the people hope, he would. Didn't mean he liked the fact. He was a scientist, for goodness sake! He didn't exactly trust the crew, after all, they WERE pilots, not men of knowledge. They wouldn't understand how to accomodate to a new planet. Now, when the future of their would-be colonization, was not the time for fools! Not that the Crew were fools.

They had gotten them to the planet after all, but with so much danger about them, everyone needed to learn fast and Dameon would do his part. Whatever that had to be.

The male sighed, running a pale skinned hand through his wavy brown hair, he felt every inch of his twenty-seven year life, and then some. Some would argue that someone who could only possibly have less than a decade of experience, should not be in his position of power, such as it was. But his papers and tests would have shut their mouths quickly enough. Though...he had left all that on earth. Where it belongs He thought ruefully.

They had to start something new here, and not make the same mistakes. Dameon had dressed sensibly, in sturdy plain clothing, though not foregoing the usual scientist wear. Carrying his suitcase, -which he had to admit was rather hefty- he headed for his tent, well, his and others.

Thankfully, most people seemed hopeful, so maybe he wouldn't be needed for a long while. Though...the strange foliage did draw his attention, but he shrugged and decided to leave it to the botanist..for now.

It felt...good to be in their new home. And aside from his rank, he was a man in excellent physical health, this wasn't so bad...he hoped.

Callused knuckles struck onto the metal of a random pipe getting a hallow echo in reply before thick soled sturdy boots turned on the walkway of the engine room and thumped along the metal hallway. A familiar hum of the moving craft was dying down as it slowly cooled off and stopped, the coated metal around him groaned or creaked as it cooled, mostly the conditioner pipes that ran along the whole metal heap the whole trip. Each and every sound was a depressing sound to him. This baby was going to sleep. He unlike most folk on the ship had a sort of odd affection for the Libertas One. Then again Royce Miller had an odd affection for any machine. It was simply in his blood. So he laid a hand on the door before he left the engine room and gave a small sigh and patted the cool metal under his hand.

Royce dropped his hand and shoved both into the pockets of his worn pants taking his time to navigate the ship to head outside onto his new Earth, his new home. A home void of the old technologies he was used to being surrounded by. Each footstep rang in the empty halls. It seemed like everyone was off the ship already, but him. So he didn’t waste time to get off. He found the open doorframe and stepped out into the natural lighting and stomped down onto earthen flooring. The brown haired men lifted his arms over his head with a groan to stretch cramped muscles and took a breath as he dropped his arms. His hazel gaze washed over the terrain around him before heading to the moving mass that were the other crewmembers and civilians that had been on the Libertas One. With a soft grunt the country bred man rolled down the sleeves of his white shirt and headed for the few remaining baggage. He grabbed up his relatively light bag and shouldered it before picking up the hard case that was filled with personal tools and such.

The average height man headed over to the grouping of people void of any words and settled with standing off from the others listening to what was said, to figure out what was going on. So maybe it was the worst thing for him to have ignored meetings, and being the near last person off the ship but that was just how he was. He would deal. Already just by listening he got a good idea of what was going down. Tent assignments along with ‘chore’ assignments. Well heck he already knew what his jobs were. Why bother even asking what it was he was doing? With a shift of his shoulders he brushed aside that straying thought knowing he better make sure of it soon for his own sake than anything. Last thing he needed was to mess up before things got rolling here.

Lacey Goldsten was one of the first off the ship, savoring the fresh air that rushed at her as she stepped out into the open. The wonders of feeling her raven locks dance in a breeze once again was beyond words. She hopped down on solid ground, and gave a small spin with a bright smile on her lips, her green eyes bright with a withheld cheer. Scooping up her ragged duffle bag of forest green, which matched her shorts, she waltz to the area where campsite would be located and dropped it. Her hands propped on her hips as she looked around her at the wonders of the new world around her.

Clawed paws interrupted her moment of glory making her look down at her forgotten ferret, Sherlock, as he scampered up her leg, shorts, tank, and wrapped around her neck chattering at her for not picking him up. A soft giggle escaped the young woman as she tickled the creatures chin. “Sorry old boy, got carried away,” chipper tones were voiced. A nudge of ferret nose into her ear caused another giggle escape before she turned hearing others joining her, and a fuss being made by a blond haired man. Dark brows angled sky bound at the little scene. Lace didn’t linger on the silly actions of a childish man nor the gathering of people about her.

The dark haired woman half turned her body, crossing slender arms before her as she once more took to scanning the area. There was a lot of work to do. She had to figure out land for the animals, get to work building shelter for them. Her mind continued to check off details of the work ahead of her. Rather than despairing she brightened. Work to do meant that there was less time standing about twiddling her thumbs. Life was meant to be spent doing something, not doing nothing. That’s why she wanted to come on this adventure of a life time. Her gaze fell back onto the gathering. Sherlock raised his-self on my shoulder and stood front paws on my head as he looked over it at everyone and what they were doing. His nose twitching taking in the smells around him. Lacey stood still to let him as she watched and listened to the humans about her.

During the flight on Libertas One, he had watched the other passengers. While they were a balanced group in terms of occupation, something still made him think that seeds of corruption would eventually worm their way into the young society. They could be hidden behind a pretty face or a charming smile, ulterior motives. These were all humans, you know… not robots or gods. Full of flaws…

Yet, what were these people looking forward to? Enlightenment or something? They would spend the rest of their days doing exactly what they did on Earth – working, building, researching, reproducing, all for a better world. If their actions were the same, how could this place possibly turn out better than the last one? Who was to say that all the depravities of mankind did not reside in this pitiful collection of homo sapiens?

Perhaps all these people thought they were special for being selected. The man snorted. They were all expendable; all going to die one day. Just like everyone else back on Earth.

After the landing, however, Johan Roth did not have time to spare even a glance at his new home planet. Who would, when they’d just heard word that Carmen Two had been lost? His PREGNANT WIFE had been on that goddamned craft! The physician paced and swore, he dropped his bags and tugged at his hair then picked them up again, then swore some more. “Shit! Damnit! Fuck! WHY?”

Eventually, he calmed down, gulping in deep breaths of this planet’s slightly unfamiliar air, telling himself that it might just be a technical difficulty. For now he ignored everyone around him. Most likely he’d see most of them over the course of the coming year. Stupid whiney people, running to doctors for this and that, this head cold or that stubbed toe; bloating the system with petty complaints.

Recently turned thirty, in his prime, the stereotype which Johan wore (by no choice of his own) was that of a thumb-to-nose, stethoscope-around-neck doctor. Of course, he didn’t usually walk around in a coat with all his medical equipment strung on him.

He wore a plain grey jacket and shirt, and trousers. Stiff, bristly hair the colour of dark chocolate swept forth from his widow’s peak, growing just past his ears. Clear, hazel-grey eyes paid little attention to detail unless it was important. Otherwise average features adorned his face. A slightly over-long nose, curled lips – who cares? Lean, average build, a little on the short side, but he wouldn’t do physical labour unless the situation was desperate.

A decent portion of his luggage was the materials he used for diagnosis and treatment. In this day and age medical equipment was small, if not microscopic, and easy to move around.

He had surreptitiously asked around if he could bring some Rush on board. For ‘medicinal purposes’, of course… The answer had been an absolute veto slapped at him, so he didn’t really bother. A pity… he could have made some good money, to speak of his own potential benefits rather than the negative effects it would have on others. Imagine this entire colony being decimated early on by something like a drug addiction. Well, he wouldn’t be a part of it. Johan always stayed by the sidelines, giving a push or shove where needed, but never getting involved in anything which could endanger his career or life.

The thought of sharing a tent with several others filled with him with almost as much dread as did the possibility that his wife was dead. Rubbing a hand over the considerable amount of dark, thick stubble which peppered his face, he sighed as he was assigned his tasks and directed to his tent.

“Here we go,” muttered the man, to himself. “Your new life starts now, Johan… Be nice to everyone…” He shot furtive glances at everyone else, not wanting to say anything with more volume lest he be marked as the unpopular conversation starter. While on the surface everyone seemed happy and peachy, he could already sense undercurrents of ill will.

You could say that it all started 10 years ago. Jon Dwyer had graduated from Imperial College London with a degree in Nuclear Engineering. The future was bright, he’d already received multiple offers of work from various global corporations looking to expand their nuclear power systems, but the one that had really piqued his interests was the one based in the US, improving their power infrastructure and reducing their dependence on the now nearly non-existent stellar oil reserves. It was going to be a challenge, but that was the sort of thing he thrived upon, staring adversity in the face until it cracked and let him through. Life would be interesting from here on out...

You could say that it all started 6 months ago. Everyone had heard of Project Second Terra, especially those going round in the scientific circles, though many had passed it off as mere hearsay, something that had started as a rumour and had developed into the story of hope should war ever break out. And it did, and there was the PST ready to pick up the pieces and move off to a new planet. Jon had been hoping to be one of the few selected for the project, to be one to bring power to the new civilization, but until he received the letter he’d had no real faith in the project. All it took was a few words on a parchment to change all of that for him. The fates had dealt him a new hand and he was ready to seize it...

You could say that it all started October, 2112. He’d packed his suitcases, emptied his apartment into storage and was crossing the Nevada cement flats in an armoured vehicle to the secret location where the two space craft would be departing from. Quite how they’d managed to keep the location out of the hands of the common masses, he’d never worked out, but they had and as such he was but one in a convoy of vehicles making their way to the designated destination. So had started the first day of the rest of his life and he was utterly psyched for it...

You could say that it all started on Boxing Day, 2112. Touchdown had been rough, and the news that Carmen 2 hadn’t made it gave him a horrible, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t the fairytale that they’d all been expecting, or if not expecting had been hoping for at least at the backs of their minds. Sure they’d all gelled on the journey to Second Terra, and the fact they were the only ones to have made it strengthened his resolve, but it didn’t make the sheer fact that the whole thing was so alien any easier...

The man, just shy of 6’ tall and clad in the characteristic white lab coat (for what was a scientist without his lab coat, but a man with too many ideas in his head for his own good) over a plain t-shirt and jeans, his scruffy brown hair cut short enough at the front to end just before his deep brown eyes but long enough at the back to form nice loose curls, carefully disembarked the craft and made his way to where the luggage had spilled forth from the craft. By some fluke his bags were resting near the edge of the pile and so he was able to reunite himself with them with relative ease.

Taking the spare moment he had, Jon took a look around at the other people who’d travelled alongside him. The crew has already emerged and were already discussing the plans for the here and now of it, civilians were milling around searching for possessions, others simply waiting for the next set of orders. Now, he thought to himself, would be a good time to find something to start thinking about. His eyes scanned the crowds, finally settling upon Dameon, the man who would be his superior whilst they worked here, though he seemed like just another one of the guys when not acting in his professional capacity, and a pretty decent one at that.

Making his way across, he queried, “So, you know what they got planned for us yet, or are they still trying to keep us in the dark about all this?”

He had been a pilot for twenty-seven years and served in the military, more specifically the Air Force, for the same length of time. Within those years, he'd gone from Airman Basic to Major General; from bachelor to happily married with a single daughter. But the last few months, the changes to his simple, upward moving life had been nearly crippling. With the threat of a Third World War, Matthias Ramsay was promoted to Lieutenant General, charged with the responsibility of relocating two hundred civilians to a new planet, but not without learning of his wife's terminal illness and her sudden death. At forty-six years of age, Matthias Ramsay was widowed, left to care for his single daughter, in addition to one hundred other "refugees", and held the highest position of power upon this new rock.

Lieutenant General Ramsay was rarely seen without wearing his uniform; it was nearly a part of him as was his grave and stern expression. He was distant and rather cold, but the captain never felt that his personality hindered his job in any way. With his crew he was not short, always patient and just, and took proper measures to ensure efficiency among the members.

Upon learning that the civilians and crew would be accompanied by a team of scientist and specialists, Matthias...was rather annoyed. After explanation and deliberation as to the function the scientists would provide, he was no longer visibly, nor vocally opposed to the arrangement, but there was a certain resentment that he harbored for the scientists, something that he turned a blind eye with his crew as they treated the scientists poorly.

He had been one of the last to leave the ship, intentionally. The rooms and corridors that had been home for the last several months deserved one last trek, one last moment. Whatever Second Terra would bring, it would have never been possible if it wasn't for this old tin can. Matthias stood at the computer panel, hand placed on the chair he had occupied everyday through the entire trip.

"You okay, Dad?" The voice interrupted his reverie and he turned to face the girl...young woman that had entered the control panel's cabin unnoticed. He returned his hat to his head, summoning somewhat of a hesitant smile. The gesture was returned, though the female's smile was considerably more genuine. Admittedly, Matthias hadn't ever spent much time with his only daughter, much less with his late wife. His career...made family a luxury he couldn't afford. The tension between the captain and his daughter was practically tangible and he knew he must make it right. How he would accomplish such a feat, he hadn't any idea.

"They're probably waiting for you," Leta pressed quietly, glancing back in the direction she'd come. She was convinced that both she and her father realized as such. She recognized that he needed a moment to collect himself, but...she was afraid he would lose himself here. The captain disappearing for a long amount of time would cause a panic, especially...considering the gloomy news to be announced.

Leta was in her mid-twenties and had long left the years where she worshipped her father for his employment, while also maturing from the years of resenting his absenteeism from her life. Her father had done by her mother and herself as best as he could...and maybe this new planet was a new chapter, where they'd be able to right--

"Have you received your work orders?"

With a sigh, she slipped her hand into her pocket to retrieve the assignment that had been personally signed by one Lieutenant General Matthias Ramsay. "Of course." Kitchen detail. For three years she had taught art classes for the local elementary school and now...she had been demoted to the cafeteria. It was even more frustrating to know that the man behind this decision was her own father, but... protesting was out of the question. "I haven't inquired as to my living quarters yet, so I should probably see to it now." This announcement was made stiffly and she left without a moment for Matthias to argue.

He watched her slender form disappear from the room, furiously fighting a lock of her dark hair from her pale face. She was much like her mother and that thought was comforting while...devastating. She was quick to anger, but quick to forgive. He was sure he would see her sometime in the evening and...things would return to the normal, awkward quiet between them.

Raking a hand through his own rather grayed hair, he left the room, heading in the same direction Leta had departed.

It wasn't long before he reached the crew that had congregated just outside of the ship. The operations of assignments seemed to be going smoothly and a line of plastic tents were already being erected in the line that had been decided the night before. The mess hall would be the first building to be built, something that was hoped to be finished by the end of the week, should the scientists be bothered to assist with anything physical.

He glanced at Reed, eyebrow lifting slightly at her speech. Of all the women he had encountered within the armed forces, she was the one he respected...and feared most. While her manners could use some polishing, she was one of the best and he was glad to have her as part of this mission.

"The announcement of Carmen Two's...demise must be placed as gently as possible." Being...gentle was something Matthias was definitely foreign to, but for the sake of maintaining morale, it was imperative that the news was kept to as least panic as possible. The mechanical malfunction had been decidedly unexpected, but there was no means of investigating what had become of the second ship. "I will make the announcement at dinner with a brief explanation and a moment of silence. For now, I expect each of you to keep order among the civilians when it comes to work and housing assignments. If you see anything suspicious, report it to me immediately." A glance was sent towards the gathering scientists with that, despite referring mostly to the civilians. He had been shocked by the various items that had been attempted to be smuggled onto the planet.

"Any questions?" Matthias regarded each of the crew members present in the group, awaiting an answer to the affirmative. He doubted this conversation would end on this note, not without mention the scientists and so he prepared to stifle the irritated conversation that was sure to evolve from here.

Plant identification was easy; Loris Pierce could do it in his sleep. He could tell anyone more information than they needed to know about any kind of plant life. It got to the point where it was almost boring. He tried to move into prehistoric plants, but not much could be discovered that nobody knew already from the fossils.

Loris wished that he could find something new to identify. This was the exact reason that he wanted to go to this Second Terra. He really hoped that he could identify new plants… and learn more about Botany than he already knew.

Of course, if he did find new plants… he was expected to name them and all that. He didn’t think that was really his … thing. He could name them “Green leaf one” and “Legume two.” That was about as good as he could get… Hopefully that was enough. Loris’ names were going to be boring.

Once off the boat—ship, whatever—Loris Pierce searched the faces for one that looked similar to his own. His twin brother, Shaun had also been on that boat. It was one of the reasons that he wanted to go. He wasn’t going to leave Earth if he couldn’t convince his brother to follow.

The men both had dark brown-almost black- hair, that was curly. Loris, didn’t like his hair long, so he kept it shorter. It was one of the ways to tell the men apart. The other way was the fact that Shaun had more lean muscle than Loris did on his body. Loris was spindly; spending most of one’s time in a lab will do that.

Shaun was a worker. He had a construction job back on Earth, and he assumed that is what he would get here. He was so glad that there weren’t so many people here though, because there weren’t too many workers for one job. If only there was some more money in this…

Shaun was much more outgoing than his brother… much better looking, in his own opinion. He was somewhat of a ladies-man… but he knew better than to want any of the women he had seen so far. They were all callous and strange.

Shaun found Loris before the man could see the long curly hair framing the mans visage. Loris was clapped on the shoulder, which made him jump.

“Good lord, Shaun,” Loris muttered. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“You worry too much, Loris. Maybe you should calm down.”

“Yeah. That’ll be the day.”

“Take some Rush, and maybe you won’t care about your paranoia,” Shaun chuckled. He was glad that “family” was supposed to be a wife and husband plus any children. He didn’t want to have to be with his brother in the same tent… The man was a buzzkill.

Shaun walked to his respective tent and went inside. He had a bunk marked out for him. The canvas bag over his broad shoulder plopped down onto the cot and he sat down. Those damn ships. They were so cramped.

While Shaun was doing that… Loris was busy looking at the surrounding plant life. He cocked his head to the side. There were plants here that he had never seen before. He grinned… trying to resist the urge to go collect samples right that instant…
There would be time for all that later. Loris … now needed to figure out where he was supposed to bunk. The man’s sense of direction was severely lacking.

He stood in the middle of the camp, looking around aimlessly… He didn’t want to ask for help… he hoped that someone came to help him. He didn’t even know where Shaun scurried off to.

James Bennet, civilian

Not even a snicker?
Well, these people were sure to be an absolute delight to spend the next few months with. He'd be sure to make sure he was on the first list for relocation.

But better than a snicker, from the corner of his eyes, he spotted the all too visible reaction the long-haired blonde had to his greeting. His lips twitched into a broad smirk as he went to stand by Qismat, slapping him on the back. "Oh-ho, looks like Blondie is just begging for bathroom detail."

Perhaps this place wouldn't be as wretched as he originally surmised. It rather appeared that he'd just found someone to verbally torture for the next...however long he was stuck with these people. Besides, making life hell for others was what he did best.

With a shove for Qismat -- which could have been classified as practically throwing -- Bennett scooped up Qismat's luggage and tossed it after the man.

"Let's get moving, I want to make sure I get top bunk," he chuckled with that comment, slinging his own belongings onto his shoulder. Turning, he noted that it seemed another individual was joining their small group. Judging by the lunatic grin on Shaun's expression, Bennett was assured that the fun was only beginning. It was times like these where he nearly felt sorry for the ones like Qismat that ended up at end of every joke --- nah, he didn't feel sorry, not one bit.

"Hold up a second, Blondie," Bennett grinned, offering his hand to Shaun as he approached, "The name's Bennett and this is our roomie, Blondie, nice to meet ya."

Leta Ramsay, civilian

After dismounting from the craft, Leta made her way to the information tent to collect the rest of her belongings as well as her living orders. That had been something she had protested; as most of the individuals aboard both ships had been men...and most of the women were married or belonged with one of the various families, she refused to room with a bunch of men. Her "living orders" had consisted of one of the leftover tents, one that she would have to figure out how to assemble herself... fantastic.

Negotiating her luggage and the bulky tent had been difficult, but she had managed, making her way steadily to the area that the civilians were being "housed", if rows upon rows of plastic orange tents could be called such a thing. Lost in her thoughts...and fighting with her dark bangs, the woman nearly collided with the forlorn Loris.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Leta cried with concern. She dropped her items to the ground beside her, inspecting the man and identifying him for his station readily enough. "You belong with the scientists team, no?"

She took a moment to brush the bangs from her eyes, revealing her dark blue eyes. Between Lieutenant General Ramsay and his daughter, those striking eyes was probably the only likeness they shared. Her gaze moved in the direction of the various tents assembled for supplies, assignments, and living quarters, and finally she spotted the few scientists that had already gathered.

"There they are." Leta gestured to the other men by pointing with her index finger. "You should probably join them, I know -- at least for the crew -- there's some additional announcements and procedures that they want to go over, your supervisor probably has the same idea as the captain."

The woman began to recollect her belongings with that, strapping one of her bags over her back, balancing another in her right hand, while also trying to carry the tent. Managing an awkward sort of nod in polite acknowledgment, she offered him a smile and resumed wandering towards her designated area.

Shaun looked around at the entire tent. He was not at all happy with his surroundings. He could build more permanent buildings than this with his right hand tied behind his back. Since that was the hand he wrote with… that would prove to be a difficult task. He sighed. Shaun was getting used to his surroundings before any of the other members of the tent got there.

He was happy to have bunkmates at least. Perhaps they would be interesting… and at least he wouldn’t have to stay with his uptight little brother. Shaun had it on good authority that he came out of the womb first… so he always called Loris his ‘little brother.’ It was quite… fun.

It was also fun to watch the little nerd squirm when girls talked to him. He chuckled. Once, Shaun gave Loris a great fright when he asked his girlfriend to come onto Loris… just to see his reaction. He got all stuttery and amusing.

Once the two new roommates came into the quarters, he could tell he would get along with the one doing all the talking. He seemed to be the more interesting of the two men anyway.

“Oi,” He said, reaching out and grasping Bennet’s hand. “Nice to meet you… and Blondie?” he asked. “Nice nickname… Pick that up for any particular reason?” He winked and offered his hand to Qismat

“Shaun… Shaun Pierce… I would have you call me Pierce, but there’s another one in this camp so it might get confusing.” He said with a very small, but resounding chuckle. “Looks like we’re going to be roomies.”

----

The perplexed scientist stood in his labcoat—which he wore the entire trip—and touched his pens obsessively. Loris was a small rat of a man. He was nervous and twitchy, and anything to do with the opposite sex was just… abhorrently embarrassing. He could remember the only time a woman tried to seduce him. It was an awful experience.

Loris shuddered and tried to look at his maps one more time. He pulled out one of his pens that were in order by color in the front pocket of his labcoat. From left to right it went: black, blue, red, purple, then green. It was on the basis of how often he used them.

Holding the pen between the fingers of his left hand he traced a line on the small map. He used his right hand as something to write on, until he was knocked into by a passerby, who dropped their things. Oh great… now he would have to try and help them when he didn’t even know where he—

Oh no. No, no, no. Loris shook his head and stood up. For one, scientists didn’t like getting their labcoats dirty… they wore them expressly because getting dirty just wasn’t their thing. Second, he landed on his pen. Great, that was broken. He would need a new one. And third, but not last: The person who ran into him was a woman.

Damnit. He put his best smile on, which was much more nervous than happy-looking. “Well… I … It’s okay.” He said, with moderate difficulty. Great.

He listened to the woman and tried to see where she was pointing. He looked. Oh! There they were. He chuckled. “T-th-thanks,” he said. “I am sure I would have been at that for err… hours” Loris fidgeted nervously. He didn’t want to be rude…

“D…do you need any help carrying all of this stuff?” he asked. Damn his niceness. He let out a small shaky sigh before looking back over to the scientists. He probably should go get his assignment before… Oh well, he had already asked the woman if she needed help. There was no going back now without looking like a complete jackass.

All manner of grumpy and pessimistic thoughts that were plaguing Qismat's mind were interrupted when Bennett decided it would be a fantastic idea to greet him by slapping him on the back. Qismat dropped his arm back to his side and opened his eyes, a slight scowl his only response to what Bennett had to say. He had dealt with people like this man before...and he knew enough to realize that even if Bennett knew his actual name, he wouldn't stop referring to him as "Blondie". Therefore, he felt no need to correct the other man.

Bennett may be no longer inclined to request for relocation, but Qismat would make that his first priority. Most of the males had been assigned to construction detail, so he was positive that he'd already share an assignment with Bennett. There was no need to extend his exposure to the man beyond that.

Qismat stumbled when Bennett shoved him, preparing to send a scowl the man's way when he spied his luggage flying straight towards his face. He slightly paled, not out of any sort of fear that the luggage would slam into his face, but out of the realization that one of the glass items within the bag may very well break if he didn't catch the luggage. Through sheer luck or divine intervention, he managed to catch the tossed bag. After releasing a soft sigh, Qismat slung the bag over his shoulder, making a point to keep away from Bennett. He could already feel a migraine coming on, he didn't need Bennett to do anything more that could worsen his situation.

At first, he had only acknowledged Shaun with a short glance. He lifted a hand to his forehead again when Shaun and Bennett seemingly became instant BFFs, his fingers attempting to massage away the oncoming migraine in vain. If he wasn't convinced by now that he'd need to request a relocation, he was damn sure of it with this latest exchange. Bennett alone would be bad enough to deal with, he didn't need to have to worry about Bennett Lite.

When Shaun posed his question, Qismat resisted the urge to flick his eyes skywards. Instead, he took the man's hand for a brief shake, dropping his hand back to his side a little too quickly than most would. Physical contact wasn't his favorite thing in the universe, hence his expansive bubble space.

Though Qismat knew that he shouldn't have answered the question that Shaun asked, his spite wouldn't allow that. "No real reason other than someone mistakenly thought it would be clever to refer to me as such."
This...probably wouldn't end well.

The physician felt like a fish out of water. Should he go and confer with the scientists, or…? Dark, dreadful hopelessness was already rising in him, ready to burst its borders like an overflowing dam. This was borne by the continued absence of Carmen Two. If he didn’t hear something soon, from someone, either confirming its demise or its subsistence, he would go mad. Or at least have a temporary mental breakdown.

They said that coming to live on Second Terra would have its own sacrifices. Johan hadn’t thought that one of them would be losing his wife and unborn child. And who was he going to complain to? Who would offer condolences? The best he’d probably get would be a ‘get over it!’

To be honest, Johan didn’t feel like going anywhere nor talking with anyone. He would rather go back to Earth and mourn his wife. Asking such a thing would earn him a big fat denial. With a growl, Johan swiveled around, watching everyone else finish departing the Libertas One and move off to their respective tasks. He’d better get a move on or he might be forced to do manual labour.

Glowering sullenly, Johan trundled through the crowds, baggage in hand. A new setting was unfolding around him – the greenery of this new planet was quickly being taken over by noise, movement, orange tents. Heh. We’re invading.

He wondered how long it would take before someone broke a leg, or caught a deadly as-of-yet-unheard-of disease. Then Johan would be dragged to the scene by his hair and forced to fix it. He was one of the precious few doctors on this planet. With sarcasm, he looked forward to doing everything he could do to help.

By this point everything was annoying him. He glared at the back of the weedy scientist conversing with a woman he recognized instantly as the daughter of General Ramsay. If not for her he would have latched onto the scientist in the hope that the man knew where he was going. Apparently not. Staying out of their range, he watched the woman point in the direction of the gathering scientists. Johan changed his course to thataway. The scientists weren’t hard to miss, by their general demeanours and uniforms…

Johan was good at putting names to faces. Once he’d heard a name once and seen the face that went with it, he rarely forgot it. He trudged over to the scientists gathering. Hmm… was that Dameon Knot?

“I don’t know if this is where I’m supposed to be, but I ain’t leaving,” Johan declared moodily. Rather here than messing around with ordinary civilians; rather here than be forced to do construction detail and set up the camp. “I’m Johan, let’s say for good measure that it’s nice to meet you all.” It took a great deal of resistance not to say ‘now what?’ Johan wasn’t the one for showing initiative. He had it, that’s for sure, but he only did something if it was absolutely necessary.

Addison stepped back as the captain entered the crowd. He was possibly the only man alive that she respected among humans. The respect was like nailed onto her nervous system, it came to her as naturally as breathing. Her military training had been tough and it had beaten a lot of her rebellious attitude right out of her. She still required people to earn her respect, but she also didn't spit at the faces of people who ranked higher than she. Ramsay was lucky enough to be higher ranking than she was, in addition to having gained her full respect in the past. Besides, she liked him, even though they had their differences.

Reed's whole family had been military people. Her mother, Jocelyn, had retired long ago but her father and two brothers had been in active duty when the war had reached a more chaotic level. It had called everyone capable into duty. Reed's brothers, Nero and Constantine, and their father, Nolan, had all died in the beginning chaos. Reed felt deep grudge towards that day, a lot of things changed in her life that day and her attitude got more extreme; she started fighting like she had no regard of anyone's life, including herself. There was no mercy, for anyone. Ironically she was rewarded for that. No one, except for her own mother, saw a problem with the way she was fighting back then. Reed hadn't thought about her mother in years.

Reed's light gray eyes scanned Ramsay as she placed her cigarette between her lips. Her crooked grin was still present as she listened to him carefully. "Oh order will remain." She said, biting down to her cigarette, and took her handgun from its holster, loading it with determination. Without her realizing it, her grin had faded away. Her eyes were fixated onto the threatening weapon, like she couldn't take her eyes off of it. She threw a glance at the civilians nearby. Her grin returned in its mildest form. In time they will do something stupid... And I will be there. She placed the gun back in the holster and looked up at Ramsay. She could sense how uncomfortable he was with the other ship gone.

Losing Carmen two was troublesome especially equipment and supply-wise. It could also make the remaining civilians restless. The emotional affects of families getting separated did not interest her but if they were significant enough to cause her trouble, then she would pay some attention. Addison had been chasing for Carmen's signal but so far there was nothing to report on.

Another officer cleared his throat after the captain asked if there were questions. "Well, Sir, some of us were wondering about our own housing arrangements..." Reed raised her hand with a grin, directing her suggestion to the captain, "With your permission, Sir, I volunteer sleeping in the rust bucket." The others were looking at her with he kind of expression that almost screamed "all yours". She was happy to see this, perhaps she could get some peace and quiet from other crew members, not to mention the civilians. She could then maybe have a taste of the Rush she had grabbed.

This, then, was paradise?

Well, let it be said that the man in the silver-gray blazer jacket was less than impressed with his new home. Why they had selected and offered, nay, forced him onto this mudball was absolutely beyond his capabilities for thought. Did they really believe that they were going to be able to survive here for very long with what they had? Or with what they were doing at the moment? Honestly, for a colony of some of Earth’s “best and brightest,” they weren’t living up to that title. No, they were out setting up camp instead, and that only further diminished the little worth they carried in his eyes.

“Let’s set up camp on a planet that we know utterly nothing about, despite what the reports have said! That’s a wonderful idea!” he grumbled bitterly under his breath, resigning himself to stay on the ship for the moment, digging into the pockets of his tan slacks, getting his sunglasses and letting others wander past him out into the literal unknown. If they died after the first ten minutes, he’d know it wasn’t safe. Hell, the only thing that any of them “knew” about this Godforsaken place, was that it was breathable, and that it had water. That was wonderful, but air and water would only get a man by for so long. They knew nothing of the weather conditions of this planet, and that of course, said nothing of the potential predators and other, various death dealing agents they might end up facing. Did the thought of staying inside the far sturdier and far more easily defended Libertas One never cross the minds of these people?

It was as if an overly-excitable, curious five year old had given the green light to this expedition, and they expected him to be the Goddamned 11 o’clock weather forecast. And seeing that no one else was dumb enough to undertake throwing their life away, they’d strong-armed Schedar Cerecedes away from his. Not to say that there was much there before leaving Toronto, but now he was with even less than before. He had two bags to his name, and that was it. The meteorologist wasn’t pleased with this, but his job wasn’t to be happy here, now was it?

No, our twenty-eight year old hero’s job was to warn them of the incoming super hurricane that would undoubtedly rend every last shred of meat from their bones with its previously unheard of wind speeds. This of course, said nothing of the joy he’d no doubt feel when he had to announce that the hurricane wouldn’t be raining rain onto them. No, this was a new planet, and in accordance with Murphy’s Law and his inherent distrust of the unknown and strange, the hurricane would be filled with fucking fire.

This just… it all just seemed like a frighteningly bad idea, and he’d seen (and suffered through) many, many bad ideas in the past. Standing in the doorway, he watched as the civilians, crew and his “colleagues” in the scientific side of this nightmare started to get themselves settled. Glancing at the silver watch on his wrist, he released a dejected sigh. Ten minutes passed already? That meant it was his turn to step out into… that. Slinging the smaller shoulder pack over his shoulder (big surprise there), the weather expert took his other, larger bag into his grip. He was at least going to make his thoughts well known to the self appointed “leader” of their new people.

Descending the ramp, he could take solace in the fact the wind here at least felt the same for the moment, tousling his already somewhat messy and feathery red hair in its dance. It was just barely lengthy enough for him to tuck the bangs behind his ears, which was all the man generally did. Rinse once, a single comb through and a tucking back, nothing more than that. Now his minimal effort was utterly ruined, and he was in no great hurry to fix it. He was in a hurry to find their “fearless leader,” though.

Fortunately enough, Captain Ramasay was an easy enough man to find. Given how all of the crew members and military types seemed to be gathering like catholic mass, he could only assume that the man would be there. Instead of barging right in and demanding to speak with the man like some people he left behind on Earth, he’d wait until the group dispersed… making sure to get this fellow off to the side and explain to him just why he was making a gigantic mistake.

Goddamn boyscout types… when would they learn that people stopped living outside for a reason? For now, it was time to play the waiting game. And inside of his faded orange shirt, he had just the thing to pass the time. Chewing gum. If he was going to relieve stress, it wasn’t going to be at the cost of his liver or lungs. Teeth were replaceable… his life, which depended on those organs, could not. Hopefully the Captain would be able to understand that similarly to how the body depended on proper care, they depended on proper shelter to survive.

Schedar wasn’t going to hold his breath.