Rory Adams took a deep breath as she took in the shuttle boarding area for the Avalon's various gold-class passengers. As soon as she showed her ID and boarded Rory Adams would be no more. She would be Lorelai James, a gold-class passenger. A socialite. Not some screwed up product of a broken foster care system whose only family was all long gone.
Maybe not that long gone.
It was only a little over six months since her sister, Amelia, had….
Shaking her head, Rory forced back the tears at the thought and took one last look back at Earth.
The sun was shining a little too brightly on a cloudless day at the shuttleport. People moved about, trying to find their allotted shuttles as staff bustled around the background loading baggage and preparing each ship for the journey.
With a manifest of 5000 passengers and crew, there were dozens if not hundreds of shuttles. Gold class passengers had massive, roomy shuttles on a large, clean platform; the rest of the passengers were being boarded a level below into smaller shuttles with rows upon rows with no legroom. Cattle class.
Even after selling all her worldly possessions and banking her savings, Rory wouldn't have been able to afford the cheapest seats on the Avalon. Lorelai James, though? She had gold class money.
Rory cast her eyes skyward and caught a glimmer amongst the blue that she assumed was the Avalon in orbit, waiting for its passengers. A few hours ride in their shuttles, a day to settle, and not long after they'd be on their way to new lives 120 years in the future.
Tearing her eyes away from the sky, she looked back at the shuttle ahead of her and joined the boarding line.
So long, shithole. I won't miss you.
If she'd managed to get the timing right, shit would hit the fan here on Earth after everyone on the Avalon was already in hibernation. Too late to return to Earth.
The boarding guard at the front of the line held his hand out for her ID, then scanned it.
She already knew the ID would work, she'd gone through the initial customs clearance already when checking her baggage in. Baggage full of a new wardrobe, both for Rory's comfort and Lorelai's status. Not to mention her computer equipment, techie crap as Amelia had called it. And Amelia…her ashes forged into a beautiful shining pink orb, her favourite colour.
Rory blinked back the tears again as she accepted her ID back from the guard, then followed the line into the shuttle, to her new life 120 years in the future.
Jim Preston watched as his sole black duffle bag sailed down the conveyor belt and away from him. His entire life in one little bag. No house, no dog, no wife. Not anymore. Just one little duffle bag and enough money to help him with expenses and getting settled on Homestead II.
Shaking his head he walked away, toying with the wedding band still on his ring finger. Abbie had already replaced hers - remarried only a few months back, less than a year after their divorce was finalized. And he was still holding on, despite his one way ticket off the damn planet. Part of him just couldn't give it up.
He looked up and glanced around the platform, trying not to think of his ex-wife.
Where the hell was his shuttle?
Dock 56 was what his ticket said. And the nearest dock was…he looked from pillar to pillar…shit, the nearest was dock 12.
Sighing, he looked down the rows of columns and docks and people. Above, he saw the gold class platform and couldn't help the pang of jealousy. He'd willingly given Abbie everything in the divorce, but part of him wished he'd kept enough to afford gold class. Shit, it wasn't like his work as a rate-two mechanic paid nothing. He probably could've saved and had enough from the sale of the house to buy a gold ticket.
But no, he gave Abbie the house.
Not that he ever would've denied her it. Shit, he still loved her.
Maybe 120 years would be enough time to get over her and the way she wrinkled her nose when he made her laugh, or the way her soft blonde hair felt against his chest when he held her.
Pushing out a long breath, he steeled himself and made his way to dock 56 and his new life.
Consciousness tugged at the corners of Rory's mind and she tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy. Every muscle in her body ached and felt stiff.
"Good morning, Lorelai."
She tried to blink again, and immediately recoiled against the harsh light.
"How are you feeling?"
Rory groaned and found her throat sore and dry. "Where am I?" she rasped.
"Don't worry, Lorelai," the soft voice assured her.
When she finally cracked an eye open, she saw the hologram of a brown-haired woman floating in front of her face, smiling at her.
"It's perfectly normal to feel confused," the hologram assured her. You've just spent a hundred and twenty years in suspended animation."
"Huh?"
"Just breathe, Lorelai."
"Rory," she corrected the hologram out of reflex. Suspended animation? What the hell was the woman talking about? Where the hell was she?
"Okay, Rory," the hologram replied.
Whatever she was laying on tilted up at an angle and moved, but Rory barely processed her surroundings. All she saw was dark and grey with bright white and blue interspersing the dark. "Where am I?"
"You're a passenger on the starship Avalon - the Homestead Company's premier interstellar starliner!" the woman said, smiling widely.
Great, she'd woken up in the middle of an advertising stream. A groan escaped her again, she didn't have the patience for this, she was too tired.
"The voyage from Earth to your new home is nearly completed," the soft voice assured her. "The colony world of Homestead II - a new world, a fresh start, room to grow!"
Something itched in the back of Rory's mind at the mention of a fresh start, the idea that a fresh start was exactly what she needed.
"The Avalon is on its final approach," the hologram continued. "For the next four months, you'll enjoy space travel at its most luxurious!" Images flashed in front of her, scenes of people enjoying starship life. "Food, fun, friends!" The woman raised her arm, showing a silver wrist band. "The ID band on your wrist is your key to the wonders of the Avalon."
Rory glanced down at her right wrist, feeling like something was off. She fought the urge to move the wristband to her other wrist.
Something beeped in the background.
"You're in perfect health, Rory!" the woman proclaimed with a smile. "Let's get you to your cabin, where you can get some rest."
As she stepped off the platform carrying her, she saw other people doing the same - three other women and two men. Glancing behind her, she saw the remaining pods all still closed and frowned at the sight. Maybe they woke people up in batches?
"This way, Rory. Your gold class cabin is on deck three, use the illuminated elevator at the end of the hall."
Sighing, Rory followed the hall and boarded the elevator with the other passengers.
"Scan your ID badges as you enter," another hologram instructed.
One by one they scanned them, then stood back as the elevator took off. Nobody said a word. Rory suspected they were just as groggy as she was, not really capable of coherent conversation. The shorter of the two men smiled at her as she caught his eye, then turned back to the doors as they opened.
"Your wristbands will illuminate with a coloured light matching the light of your cabin as you near it," a disembodied voice said as the elevator doors wooshed closed behind them.
The long hall slowly lit up as they lumbered slowly down it. Side halls remained dark until they reached the right row. Rory glanced back toward the elevator, but it remained closed, the other halls remained darkened.
Shaking the uneasy feeling off, she followed the group.
Two of the women had their wristbands glow a dull pink as the group reached a set of doors.
The taller man's room was soft green.
The blonde woman's room was purple.
And the shorter man's was red.
Rory's room glowed blue.
They all exchanged brief, exhausted looks before heading into their rooms.
Jim was in a full-blown panic. He'd meant to wake just Aurora, instead all six members of her pod group were now waking up to his shitty reality - stuck on a starship, doomed to live to death in virtual isolation. Shit, he'd really fucked up!
He paced back and forth in his room, running his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. What the fuck had he done?
It was selfish. It was stupid. He was so damned lonely and broken.
A better man would've let them all sleep.
But he wasn't a better man, was he? He was an asshole, still pining for a woman who'd moved on 30 years ago!
He'd just been so…broken. And Aurora looked so much like Abbie.
Arthur had encouraged him to be better, to not tamper with the pods.
The whole damn thing was just so crushing!
And now here he was, screwing six innocent people over! For what?
Because he was lonely.
Jim slammed a fist into the nearest wall.
"Ow, fuck!"
The pain in his hand sobered him, calmed him down. There was nothing he could do now, they were awake. Maybe at least he could salvage some of his original intent and at least get to know Aurora.
Shaking off the throbbing sensation in his hand, he pushed out a resigned breath and decided to get showered and changed. No reason to present some greasy troll when he went to meet them in the Grand Concourse.
Or wherever the hell they were.
Jim bit out another curse as he made his way to the shower, stripping his dirty clothes as he walked.
A few hours later, Rory stood in front of her mirror, trying to convince herself that of course Lorelai James would wear jeans and a t-shirt. Frowning, she glanced at the sequinned jacket on her bed and debated putting it on. Sparkles weren't really her thing. Then again, she wasn't really herself anymore, was she?
And a rich trust fund baby would wear the jacket.
Screw it.
Lorelai Adams hated sparkles; Lorelai James loved them.
Rory grinned and slipped on the jacket, then headed out to join her orientation group.