On the Other Side
Through the porthole you can register very little as frost crystals have obscured most the window. The light of the cryo bays seem to be intermittently flickering as though receiving only intermittent power. One of the bays flickers out and in it’s reflection you see a crew member. The white labcoat and pale features discernible as Dr Nicole Farrow. She moves weakly, her mouth opening as though screaming before the light flickers on again. The warning light by the door blinks red denoting that the room’s sensors are either inactive or registering a lack of atmosphere or the presence of toxic contaminants.
“Rows of Cryo chambers stand in neat rows their occupant’s silhouettes vaguely determinable through the frosted mylar. The room’s ceiling opens onto a void through which can be witnessed the top deck of the Astarte and the ruins of the starboard living quarters. Small personal effects, a severed arm and pieces of the ship seem to float in a tight vaguely elliptical orbit measuring five meters across above you.”
During the crash the cryo storage room was breached. The explosion claimed the lives of four crew members at the outset but they are continuing to fail as reserve power and the failed re-initialization of the operation programs is on course to cause the gradual deaths of the scientists in stasis.
One such unlucky soul is neither alive nor dead. Crew member Doctor Nicole Farrow, a transgender woman regards anyone in her area with a pained stare. She was tending the pods at the point of the explosion and has been ripped in half, her intestines trailing off in a number of ragged strings. The explosion that ruined the bay knocked her onto the jagged deck where her labcoat lodged precariously. She is cradled by a flickering form barely perceptible against the dark. It rocks fretfully clinging to her and holding her in place. Nicole can move only weakly but it is obvious from her expression, her darting glance and the words she mouths that she is alive and in pain. The airless space however makes her continued state unnerving. There is no air or heat so she should not be alive.
A shattered front of one of the pods comes dislodged and behaves as though it were being held by someone. As it passes in front of the cryotube you see a thin humanoid shape delicately grasping the razor sharp piece of mylar.