when: the morning after the incident / blue’s death where: sleeping quarters status: open
Though she sits on her bed, Lo has not actually been able to sleep since it happened. She is running on fumes. The creature is still loose, but they have more information. It seems impervious to most things: It caught fire, but was not killed. It spat out bullets. Tranquilizers had no effect. It grows rapidly. She is borderline talking to herself, just low murmurs, when she notices someone come in. “We’ve got one soldier in medical who looks like she stayed too long on the grill,” Lo grumbles, and then her tone drops lower, “and a casualty.” She repeats this in disbelief. She repeats this to process it.
She runs a hand roughly across her face, letting herself hide behind it a moment. The stress of space is sinking in. Someone has died because of her decision — her research. It was her order. Incubate the specimen. Her heart feels like it has stalled in her chest. She’s trying to be better about breathing, but it’s hard, and so she stops to take a few deep ones. In and out. In and out. Then she turns to the person beside her. “How are you holding up?”













