The first thing he heard was the hiss. He opened his eyes to the sight of three people peering at him through condensation-covered glass. He ignored them in favor of catching a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The glass slid out of the way and he stepped out , legs shaky from time spent in the pod, to a bombardment of questions.
"Who are you?"
"Can you remember anything?"
"Who are we?"
He stared at them shaking his head in answer. His memory was a blank slate. This bothered him If he couldn't remember who he was, he couldn't be sure of who was friend or foe.
The trio headed off in the direction of the nearest stasis pod and he trailed behind. Never turn your back on an enemy. Someone his fractured memory couldn't recall repeated this mantra throughout a life he had lost. He wasn't sure what to make of the group in front of him, but he would be watching his until it was clear.
As the three walked ahead, he took account of whom the greatest threat was. There was a woman-she seemed experienced in warfare and vying for dominance with a man. The man with a scar across the right of his face. He had a gun and a walk that spoke of cockiness bred by experience. The woman walked like a soldier but held herself like a corporal. She seemed used to power and wore the mantle well. She was also not in the standard stasis uniform, immediately separate from the rest. She wasn't fully covered yet didn't appear to be cold. The third, a timid man putting on bravado, had eyes only for the woman. She didn't seem to notice and the man covered well but he watched the man's eyes slide back to her. Had he already formed some sort of attachment to her? He noticed but filed it away for later. He needed to stay focused and learn as much as he could about these people. Maybe then he'd discover what was going on and how he fit into it.
He slid back, into the shadows, observing that it was comfortable to him and that his body moved fluidly, soundlessly. The three ahead did not notice. How did he acquire this skill? Did he learn to hide from a raised hand? Or for easier kills? Either way he was comfortable in silence and shadows. That's where he'd stay.
They arrived at the next occupied stasis pod. Glass slid away, air hissed, and out stepped a teal haired girl. She could have been anywhere from 14 to 20 but the innocent blue eyes blinking at everyone led him to believe she was younger. She wasn't wearing the same stasis uniform as the rest of them. Unlike the woman she was fully covered explaining her lack of discomfort in the face of the frigid temperatures of the stasis pod.
They asked her the same questions they asked him, gentler. Her responses were quick and frightened. The woman said she could be called Five since she was the fifth one to wake up. Guess that made him Four. It was a name.
The woman led the group down to where the last door on the last stasis pod was opening. He watched the girl stick close to the woman, as far away from the other two men as possible. Had she remembered something to make her fear those men?
If she were to be believed, she was among the ranks of the amnesiacs. He noted she was not wary of being close to him, actually falling back to walk between him and the woman. Why her aversion of men didn't seem to stretch to him he didn't know or care. His mission right now was gathering data and assessing the situation.
They arrived at the last pod. The door slid open but the large black man inside remained asleep. The woman and the man with the gun walked closest to the door. Four stood back. Better to observe for now. The man tapped the glass with the muzzle.
"Shake n' wake, Tiny. Shake n' wake." Four noted his accent was off, different from the rest. The man inside opened his eyes and stared in confusion at the group in front of him.
Four detected the girl, Five, slowing creeping back toward him. His shoulders tightened but he didn't move to stop her. He could handle himself. He was more wary of why he was confident and found it vaguely alarming that he had no idea what he or anyone around him was capable of.
As Four processed the situation, the man with the gun reached out and manually opened the door. The timid man, not to be outdone, spoke to the resident of the stasis pod.
"Who are you?" Confusion furrowed the lines of the man's face. "You don't remember, do you?" "No." "Well hell," breathed the gun toter. "That makes six of us," the timid man seemed to be taking the lead this time.
"What's going on?" Asked the black man. "We all woke up just like you," replied the timid man. He seemed to grow braver under the gaze of the woman.
"No memories. No idea of who we are or how we got here." He looked around as if for confirmation. The gun toter had begun wandering as soon as the timid one took the lead and Four turned his head as he heard doors opening behind him.
"Hey guys, check this out," scar-face was back in control. Four followed behind the woman and the timid man. He watched Five stay slightly behind him when they moved forward. The black man seemed almost reluctant to follow. They headed down a corridor towards a room. He couldn't tell what was in it and despite himself found his curiosity piqued for more information.
The girl slowly stepped around him as they neared the entrance. Her body briefly brushed his and she flinched slightly from the contact. While mildly amused at this involuntary action, he began to wonder, if fleetingly, what her body remembered that her mind did not to cause such a reaction.
The group entered into a room filled with metal boxes. The black man was the last to enter. His earthy voice gravelly from lack of use rang out in Four's ear. "What is this place?"
The timid man responded. "It's a ship. And looks like we're dead in space."
The group began to slowly spread out. Four hung back, comfortable in the dark. The woman spoke. "Systems were down and we were venting atmosphere. I was able to get us back on line and restore the ships auto repair protocol." Four comprehended then why they were awoken from stasis. If the ship was damaged it would have woken up any passengers in stasis to conserve energy. Those pods needed quite a bit of pressure. Didn't explain the memory wipe, or how he understood a ship's procedure in the events of damage, but Four would keep that to himself until he knew more information. The black man spoke up again. "How'd you manage that?"
"I don't know exactly." The hesitancy in her voice was strange after the authority with which she had spoken only seconds before. Either she was an excellent actress or she was telling the truth. "I was standing there at the console and it just… came to me."
"Well that's a good thing." Heads turned to face the timid man. "It'll all come back to us eventually, right?" The woman began opening what appeared to be lockers behind her. "Hey, if anyone's feeling underdressed…" she pulled out a jacket. The girl, eager to explore this newfound closet, opened the nearest locker. The others began opening things as well.
The timid one spoke looking at the black man. "For now we've named ourselves in the order we woke up in. I'm One. She's Two…" The woman looked up as he gestured towards her. The man with the gun began beating on a lock on a crate. One looked at him with mild annoyance. "Three. Four." He glanced at me. "Five." The girl nodded her head in acknowledgement and went back to exploring. "Which makes you Six."
Two seemed to have found coms while Five and Six had each found a jacket more suited for the other. Neither seemed to realize it yet. Three's insistent clanging proved futile as the crate remained very much locked. "Damn it."
Five and Six switched jackets as Two confirmed his earlier suspicion. "We've got comms." Six spoke up. "So what do you think? We the crew of some transport vessel on some sort of long range haul?" The group meandered toward Two, except Four who still stayed to the back, not trusting these strangers.
She began handing out comms. "Would explain what we were doing in stasis. Ship gets into trouble. Takes some damage. Systems shut down. When life support hits critical hazard protocols kick in and we're automatically awakened." Just as he'd suspected, Four did not offer his opinion but eyed the procession for comms and continued his exploration of the crate in front of him.
"Wouldn't explain the memory loss though." Six seemed to be analyzing the situation as much as Four. Three seemed to find his second wind and began to once again beat against the lock. Five jumped at the sudden loud noise and Four wondered why that bothered him. With one final blow Three broke the lock off and looked at his shipmates with something akin to smugness. The scar on his face always made him look slightly smug so there was no telling whether this was the emotion he was trying to portray or not.
Three began to grin as he knelt down to lift the lid. "Got it." Four was the only one who didn't seem to be riveted by the crate. Self-preservation outweighed his curiosity and he remained where he was while the rest of the group inched forward to get a better view of whatever was in the crate. Four dug through the crate and found some clothes that looked like they would fit him. "So what are we shipping? Seeds? Meds?" One asked as Three opened the lid. He seemed to be the most interested in the contents. "Better." Three chuckled out. Reaching inside he pulled out an automatic rifle. Now Four understood his glee.
"Who wants?" Five seemed eager to get her hands on a weapon and rushed toward the arsenal. "I don't think so." Two was quick to shut her down, taking the pistol from her hands. "Hey!" Four wondered why she wanted the gun. Protection? Or did she actually plan on shooting someone? He figured she felt the need to protect herself given there were now four large men and she and Two were the only females in sight.
Two once again took command. "We're going to need to check this place out. Let's pair off. Three you're with Six. One with Four. And I'll be with Five." Four looked at her but didn't protest. One was a stringy guy. Based on body types alone, Four figured he could take him should he prove to be violent.
He dressed in the clothes he'd found and looked around for his partner. One glanced at him and began to rummage through a locker. He walked up to the box Two had abandoned in favor of policing Five's weaponry and selected a comm. As One finished dressing the duo headed out, leaving the room with the sound of a plasma gun charging filling their ears.
