Russ flipped through the pages, seeking a favorite passage. Her fingers danced along the faded images of the comic book.
The adults in the stories were alive and healthy. She wrested her eyes from the book to survey her fellow travelers with dread. Russ was still unnerved by so many aged faces.
Like her, the crew sat straight in their metal chairs, surrounded by gleaming metal walls that wrapped and curved in intricate patterns. Some of them scrolled clear interface screens, while others conversed. No one was reading, except for Russ.
They were waiting on Captain Forster to start the meeting he had called, but he was speaking with Kathar. They seemed to be arguing, albeit quietly.
Russ was sure to hear about it later, so she returned to reading. Unlike her comrades, she adored old books, comic books in particular. Watchmen was a favorite, but the Fray series eclipsed all else. Post-launch, they had ten days to settle in to the ship, prep for missions, and pretty much do whatever they wanted. Russ planned on revisiting her beloved stories, in between hanging out with Jason.
"Ancient," Jason commented, peering at the wrinkled book with mock disdain.
"Nothing ancient about a hardcore chick kickin' ass," Russ said.
Like Forster, Jason brought out another side to her. They been friends years before, in the dormitories. Then, tragedy had separated them. When they'd found each other again in Academy, they had been inseparable.
"Who talks like that?" Jason chuckled.
He had sprung up in Academy, reaching well over six feet. Uniforms always fit him like a glove. Other girls had whispered about how cute his tan and angled face was, but Russ never saw him like that. To her, he was like a little brother.
"People," Russ said, then added, "Okay, so the characters talk like that." She held up the book, hiding it under her seat once Captain Forster started speaking.
"... we'll enter the dura-chambers within five days. Until then, get to know your surroundings."
Everyone in the meeting hall set their interfaces down and grumbled about changed plans.
"I thought we had ten days?" Guin asked.
"Ten days was too generous," Kathar answered.
Forster frowned at him, but didn't address the interruption. Then, he turned to Guin and said, "It's five days, as we need to conserve rations. Then, everyone goes tee-tee night-night for the next three months."
A series of groans accompanied the announcement. Although the creators of the dura-chambers boasted comfortable internment, a large percentage of users complained of side-effects, such as vertigo, weak-muscle response, and nightmares.
Russ had yet to use a dura-chamber, but then again, none of the crew had, except for Forster.
He didn't look worried, so Russ wasn't, either.
Voice low, she nudged Jason. "Five days is enough time for more pistol training."
"Joy." From his tone, he was less than over-joyed.
~*~
"Ugh, I suck." Jason threw down the laser pistol and stomped off.
His quick steps echoed off the lacquered floor and composite walls of the training room. He was 19, just a few years younger than Russ. In his frustration, he seemed much younger. They were the youngest crew members, but the best at what they did. Russ thought their talents should include self-defense, but Jason didn't.
The target hung as pristine as it had seconds before. He hadn't landed a single shot.
He's not wrong, she thought, but resisted saying it out loud.
"Oh come off it," is what she said instead. "That was just the initial go-through." Her encouragement failed, and Jason continued his exit from the training room, so she tossed out a favored phrase, "Are you a quitter?"
Jamilet had often asked her the same thing, and she had never said yes. Never.
Back to her, he stopped. "I'm no quitter, but I'll never have to use that thing."
Eyes narrowed, Russ picked up the pistol, turning it over in her hands. "Really? Why's that?"
Jason spun around, gesturing wildly, "Because Forster, and you!"
Most other times, he was calm and confident. Something about pistol training brought forth all his inadequacies, and he dissolved into a ranting quitter.
"What happens when we're gone?" Russ understood the finality of the mission, but it was apparent that Jason did not. She loved his sweet innocence, but at times, it frustrated her. This was one of those times.
"That...won't happen." He seemed less sure than a minute before.
Russ sighted the virtual target in front of her, aimed the weapon, and fired.
A blue light shot out, burning a hole through the hologram. The image, already disturbing as a black lacquered monster with tentacles, looked even worse with a hole in its head.
Jason sighed, but he had returned to the training table where the weapons waited. He contemplated the second pistol, but didn't touch it.
"You make it look so easy," he said.
"It's not. I've just practiced a lot." She took her pistol, and pressed it into his slack hand. He resisted, but she wrapped his fingers around the handle. Jason squirmed, but she kept a firm grip, forcing him to hold the weapon. "Time comes when what you shoot doesn't look that that." Russ nodded at the fading hologram.
He frowned, shaking his head. "You mean, I might have to shoot you?"
She shrugged. "Me, or another member of the crew. Dura-chambers have been known to de-stabilize inhabitants."
"But," he squinted a bit, "you're so small."
He teased her about her height every chance he got. She always responded with a cutting remark. It was one of several games they played.
"And you're dumb. But even dumb folks learn how to shoot."
Jason smiled, but still hesitated. She sensed he was about one second away from flying out the door.
"You afraid a short-stack is better than you?" she inquired.
Jason chuckled. "I know you're better, but that's not the problem."
After a few moments, he raised the weapon. He squeezed, and released a blue burst of energy.
He missed the target by a horrible amount. Nevertheless, the two glanced at each other, exchanging huge grins.