Princess of the Stars

3 - Lodgings

As the dome lightened for the assigned daytime, Terra looked out across the hangar that housed her comrades. Some sat up like her, waiting for instruction. She sported a grumpy expression as she tried to figure out how to reclaim charge of her mission. As much as she trusted the officials of the base, the Princess mission held a strict timetable. Another side of her pushed away at the sadness tugging at her heart strings.

No, she refused to wonder how many others were lost to the abyss only days before. How many more left behind their loved ones to boil in the vacuum of space? That was the problem with their selection process: they picked people in groups who grew up together. Celeste never had a chance to fit in. The social leaders didn't even try to build a team, so Terra would have to start from scratch. Luckily, it seemed like Alice would be game to be part of a team and push aside her own wants. With her help, Terra would re-build the Princess mission from the ground.

As the dome grew brighter, focusing the energy from the far-off Sun, the crew of the Princess of the Stars all rose from their cots and bedrolls. Terra stood up from her cot, ready to look for someone in leadership. As she did so, a voice overhead greeted them.

"Good morning, Princess crew. Now that you're all rested from the event, we'd like to invite groups 1–5 into our residential area to shower and get settled in the temporary barracks we've set up for you. If you'll exit through the south door, which should be lighting up now, my friend, Tommy, will show you the way."

Half the warehouse grabbed their few belongings and shuffled over to the door outlined in flashing green. Terra wondered what kind of lodgings the base could have set up in a matter of hours, but she assumed it would be better than sleeping on the ground again. With the promise of a shower, she pursed her lips to wait her turn. She watched as groups 5–130 sought out a warm shower and some coffee, wondering when they would start on the lettered groups. On her wrist shone an "L2" next to the sleek emblem for the base.

"All right, now that we have all the numbered groups out of the way, we'd like to take a minute to meet briefly with the rest of you: the leadership team. I'll be right down with my associates."

Terra looked around at the hundred or so people part of the leadership team. She'd never considered how many people were supposed to be in charge in time of crisis; she just knew that everyone on the ship had a role to fulfil given an emergency. Who would call the shots?

Most of the others bore the same expression as they looked to their captain, the obvious leader, but given their place on the base, his authority was probably lowered. He seemed to be counting the number of his associates, and his broad neck stretched and relaxed as he typed information into his wristy. Terra glanced down at her own and jumped when she realized four standard days had passed since the asteroid collided with the ship, since they lost a large portion of their crew.

"Welcome again to Varuna," a short man called from Entrance C. His arms exploded bags and old school paper files as he approached them. A woman with short, dark hair and a tall, gangly fellow followed, their arms just as full. "You're right, Shanice, we should have just brought a cart. Anyway, if all of you could grab one of each of these bags, tags, and files, that would be great. Wait—" He looked around. "Where's Rolf with the tables?"

"Coming," a voice called from outside the warehouse. "Just a little stuck." As he said this, a few tables floated in on carts, which mechanically set the tables up in two large circles. Name plates projected themselves in the air over each spot. Another cart followed to place the chairs. After all was set up, a blond guy with a bushy beard entered, still typing commands into his wristy.