Alex Five and Hugh Six were, understandably given there competitively natures that has remained one of the genetically-recreated Selves over the past three hundred years.
No sooner did Captain Charles Howards announce via the ship's intercom, located in the D-shaped cockpit, controlled by communications officer, Lt. Neandra Reynolds, than everyone in the spinning-for-artificial gravity entire midsection...
"Please, get into your space suits now", the official-sounding voice of Captain Howards came through incredibly clear. "Make certain to activate the magnetic-soled space boots, as we have to level out and stop the spin you've needed to remain outside the space suits, so we can sit down approximately fifty-five meters from the entrance into the headquarters dome in order to choose your rig and begin trekking across the rugged terrain to deliver supplies and equipment. Captain Charles Howards out."
"Sounds like we're where we're supposed to be", announced, albeit unnecessarily, Alex Five, even as he and the other three genetically-recreated truckers led the way to the side of one bulkhead where, at the slightest touch by Hugh Six, already in the mood to compete for everything with Alex Five, pivoted open to reveal said space suits.
"What're you two guys rushing for?" Lisa Nine interjected with an amused chuckle. "They won't let us leave the ship until we've fully landed."
"A race is a race, little Lisa", Hugh Six replied, promptly and with a amused chuckle of his own. "And its one Alex here's gonna lose by the time the total tally of how much of the equipment and supplies we've dropped. Ain't that right, buddy?"
A toothy grin, still displaying those that were missing, and a short guffaw met Hugh Six, even as both men were hurriedly donning their space suits, sealing all the joints and adding pressure. And, lastly, pushing the sole solitary button on the underside of their space-gloved hand...
Thu-klink!
That activated the magnetic soles of their space boots. And, with minimal effort, each was capable of pulling loose long enough to step away from the space suit-holding chamber on the starboard side.
Thu-klink! Thu-klink! Thu-klink!
And, in so doing, one slightly ponderous step after another and another and another, found the foursome, already leading the pack made up of non-genetically recreated truckers, who were still struggling to climb into and seal their own cumbersome space suits.
By the time everyone had entered their pressurized space suits, and made it all the way to the port side of the truly large interior, behind the locked unbreakable D-shaped cockpit door...
Pop-Ssssssssss!
The seals were broken, allowing the interior pressure of the no-longer-spinning section making up most of the entire craft called ICE SHIP ALPHA, and the entire group, seemingly led by Alex Five, Hugh Six, Jack Seven, and Lisa Nine, made their way out onto the low gravity, which was why their protectively-covered legs were made heavier than the upper half of their space suits.
"I'm gonna get the largest cargo rig waiting in that pressurized dome", Hugh Six said with considerable self-confidence and certainty, as if the statement, transmitted via the audio system built into each space suit, were a foregone conclusion. "You, Alex, and all the others, will be eating my spray of thin sheets of ice and be in my rear view the entire way. Ha-haaa-ha!"
Alex Five was quick to reply whilst speeding up his slightly ice-crunching steps in his identical-to-the rest space suit, his transmission coming in loud and clear for far more than Hugh Six, actually pulling ahead of the shorter man...
"Not unless you grow some leg length", Alex Five stated quite confidently himself. "I'll be checking in and grabbing my paperwork for the first truck to pull outta here in order to get the larger-than-your truck's load, before you can shout presumed victory."
"Damn you, Alex Five."