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The woman writes in her journal, sitting atop a water-cleaner tube. "It's been three days since I have found myself on this heavily damaged ship. I am so scared. I believe it's only the sheer, unrelenting size of the vessel that is keeping it together...every few hours I hear a crash and a bang as something else falls apart. "I have been trapped in the lower decks since a few hours after I 'awoke'." The woman looks around as one of the dozens of pipes lets off some steam. This one, according to the manual she had found, was supposed to. "I found some papers in one of the engineering crew's quarters. According to the Ship's Manual, which had been soaked by monitoring fluid, my name is Zora...Zora something. How insane is it that the fluid ate away at the bit that should be my last name? Oh well. If I ever survive...I swear to god I am getting back surgery. I don't know how I've handled it before I lost my memory but damn...genetics is getting in my way. "Well, anyway, I think I found an emergency hatchway to the upper decks. Things are so messed up it might lead me to the depths of space...but I did hear someone screaming about the Janitor 'being naked' (OMG!) up that way and at this point, a naked janitor is better then spending another hour in this maze of mechanical crap. I swear, if that footlocker hadn't had those biographies, I would have gone insane(r) from boredom."
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9/4/2008 3:35:23 AM
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