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Michiel: After seeing so many of his friends die by the diease he didn't think to be able to enjoy anything. But after meeting a princess, he was enjoying her a little bit too much. Evelign: Locked up by her parents, she was kept under watch and under lock and key. On her planet she was a rare type, meant to be hidden away and kept save until the right time. Well, she was making this the right time.
“Mr. Roux, Ms. Albine is requesting you in the lower level.”
He couldn’t help the groan that parted his lips as the mechanical voice informed him of the request. He hated going down there. Most of all, he hated the bitch who was calling him.
But nevertheless and he had been called and as second in command of the science team and exploration, he had no choice but to answer the call.
Lunging up from his bed, Michiel quickly pulled on his elastic suit and brushed through his long hair before stepping outside of his small dorm.
He never knew when he and the other survivors would finally find a home. It has been his dream for the past seven years to finally get off this hell hole, to step onto ground and finally feel a breeze against his skin. The things he thought he wouldn’t miss, when he volunteered, are the things he wanted the most.
Welcome to Salvation, ship fleet number 78. Possibly the last free ship floating about the galaxy of the human fleet. They hadn’t had any contact of the other ships, though they were on there own, finding a safe planet was their first priority. Then, once a home was secure, they would send out a intergalactic message to all the fleet, hoping for some sort of response.
Walking down the small hallway of the ship, he passed merely five people. The rest must be sleeping or down in the mess hall. He use to remember when there were people running about the ship, children and teens alike.
But that had been about nine years ago, when the original ship had just taken off and their entire housing had been full of families. They had thought that they would float about space and not have any complications, he should have thought otherwise.
Reaching the steps down to the lower levels, he easily jogged down the stairs and nearly bumped into one of the interns. Apologizing, he swiftly moved out of the girl’s way and onto the metal grate that lead down to the lab and to the bitch’s lair. Pulling a mask over his face, he braced himself for the dragon’s wrath.
“Where the hell have you been, Roux? I called for you ten minutes ago!”
Ms. Albine was 5 ‘6, black haired, browned eyed, witch from hell. As she is leader of their science team and exploration, she was practically in charge of the whole ship, since those that have survived have been automatically added to the ship’s roster of workers in the science lab. All that weren’t were the engineers and pilots, lucky bastards.
“Sorry, Ma’m. You woke me up from a rest; it took a minute to wake myself up.” Lame excuse, but it was enough to get her steaming, and he loved to watch her yell. It was just too funny.
“A rest!” Her arms went up in the air and she casted her gaze to the ship’s roof. “For all that is holy, when will I get it through your thick skull, Roux, that this is very, very important?”
“I already know it’s important, ma’m.” He grounded out through his teeth. “I’ m currently the only one who is working on it, besides your helpful advice.”
“Yes, the only working on it, because you are the only one left who knows about it!” She stared him down with a hell glare.
“I know this as well, Ms. Albine.” He so wanted to roll his eyes, but that would be extremely childish and he wouldn’t get her out of his work space fast enough if he did. She would stay and rant at him about respect, discipline and yadda-yadda-yadda.
She looked at him, looked at his report- which had magically appeared in her hands and on her clip board while he had been gone- and up to him again. She nodded and headed out the back door to his work area.
Sighing, he collapsed from his soldier stance and into his comfy chair.
It wasn’t everyday she came in here and berated him for being lazy, just the days when she was ticked or something was up her ass. And the days she did come in and chew him out, were the days he regretted getting up.
Looking about his work room, he realized his space hadn’t exactly been in shape to be seen by a superior either. Groaning again-he really sounded like a chick now- he began to tidy up and clean up the papers that littered his desk and around the computers he used for his research.
The room had been originally given to another researcher that had had a higher rank than him in the first few years, but as those years went by, he was struck by the disease and the room became Michiel’s. The computers had years of invaluable data on the disease that had stricken the human race 5 years ago.
The more religious one called it ‘The Purify’, believed that god was punishing those that led them off Earth and by passed his domain of Heaven. But when more than half the surviving humans became deathly sick and 25% percent of the population died in less than three months, it became much more than that.
Michiel had been one of the few lucky ones, he had barley gotten more than any symptoms of the regular common cold. Of course there had been some that not been effected at all and some that died within a week. But he had worked with the scientists and tried to figure out something to save those that had lived the first few weeks.
Their success had been little and few.
No cure or vaccination could be found of made within the years, the virus had mutated at least every 48 hours, if not every 24. It was very complex and no code could stabilized once it had been taken as a sample. It withered within three mili-seconds of detachment of it’s producer. It was damn hard just trying to get a visual of the fucking killer.
Anyway, in the end, only those that lived through the year of death-yes, it only lasted one year, exactly- had been in good shape to move and from then on they were taken care of and put back in good health.
Hanging his head, Michiel put a stack of papers over the virus on his desk and flopped down into his chair again.
He’s been doing the testing and theories of the virus and the other members of the team won’t be satisfied unless there is a theory that is 100% bullet proof. Which is proving to be impossible, with no evidence or anything to examine.
“Mic, any results?”
Nearly be scared to death wasn’t something he usually was faced with, damn he must be off his game today. Ruzel stood against leaning against the front doorway of his room, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. Did he know what the bitch did?
“You know there isn’t, and when I do, I’ll notify you first.” Mic smiled as his friend walked in and made his way across the room to his desk.
Ruzel had been another one that not been much effected by the virus. Though he had it a little worse than Michiel, he made a full recovery in just a week. Michiel had recovered in 18 days, and Ruzel had taken over the job of figuring out the virus until Michiel had come back to life. Since then they have been partners.
Ruzel was a 23 year old, red haired male, a few years younger than Michiel. Ruzel stood at 6 ‘3, Michiel stood shoulder to shoulder with the slim giant. Though Ruzel was at the gym regularly, he still didn’t have the muscle mass the Michiel possessed. Making them among the strongest in the crew of the ship. You knew it was bad when the science geeks were the protectors of the ship.
Along with being the leaders of the Virus Cure Crew, VCC, they also manned the ship’s guns and were trained in many arts of fighting, martial arts and guns alike. What more could you want?
“You better,” looking about the room, he wore the regular environmental suit that the crew was required to wear. “I see you finally cleaned up in here.”
“Just a few minutes ago, actually.” Standing up Michiel went to his desk just to the right of his desk. He didn’t keep a com system on his desk because it took to much space up, and he liked papers his to be spread out.
The com systems were no more than a few 8 inches in length. The screens came up along the wall, the way he programmed them, and he liked it that way.
“Good,” Ruzel smirked and followed Michiel to his CS, leaning onto the chair’s back and looked over his shoulder as the screen popped up.
“Please give a vocal caption for verification.” The same mechanical voice that had greeted him earlier, asked.
“Michiel Roux, VCC’s co-leader and scientist.” He made sure and put what little accent he had left of his home, into his voice, knowing no one else had any hope of copying it.
Before the Earth had been on a straight track to disaster, he had lived in the streets of Italy since he was born. No family, no hope and no future. What better time to be alone. He’s seen families get torn apart, children left motherless and fatherless. He didn’t know how it felt to lose someone like that, so he had a better chance of living in space more then anyone. Which was working perfectly.
“Welcome to the CSS, Mr. Michiel Roux.” The computer voice spoke and as a list of options came up. CSS: communication system of Salvation, simple and effective.
“Level 1: Virus data.” Michiel spoke, leaning on the arm of the chair and laying his head on his propped up arm.
Michiel held up his other hand, counting down from five. Looking up at Ruzel, he nodded and knew what to say. Closing a finger every second, once all his fingers were down they both spoke.
“Wet T-shirt contest.”
They held their breath as the computer made sure it was the password, looking at each other a few noises of amusement escaped their throats and they forced themselves to be quiet.
“Welcome to Virus data, Mr. Ruzel Dhal and Mr. Michiel Roux.”
They busted out laughing as the computer confirmed it. No matter how much they spoke it, they would never forget the reason why they had chosen that as their password.
Looking at each other, trying to catch their breath, they laughed again. Lets just say, when the bitch comes near water, she makes sure she’s not around them.
Finally managing to catch their breathe, they looked at the com. Several options were up, but Michiel knew what he wanted to see.
“Population report.” He spoke quietly, it would catch his softest tone and they made sure not to speak to loud. Security measures were stupid.
The list of options disappeared and the report was up. There was a report every morning, then again at dinner time. When people checked in, went to a locked down area, when they checked with their medic unit, shit, when they took a shit, they knew. Though the lateral was not a need to know.
The holographic screen read:
February 27, 2189
6:00 a.m. ET
Recorded Check-ins: 57/57 (23 females; 34 males)
Doctor check-ins: 0
Medic Unit uses: 4
Victims still recovering: 2
“Damn, still no advancement in them?” Ruzel asked, not to the computer but to Michiel.
“I checked them up yesterday, Shelia is degrading. There is a 37% chance she will survive this. Though the male, Jason, is doing well. He should, if it continues like this, be done with the virus in at least 5 days.” Michiel answered, sighing.
Laying his face in his palms, Ruzel began to pace about the room.
They had had the same problem from the very beginning. Ever since the virus hit, it has targeted females more often then male. Michiel even believes as to go as far as to say the virus had originally target female, but by some mistake the virus had started to infect the male. Whether by sexual intercourse or just a swap of saliva, anything was possible. Though the virus had certainly been strong enough, it had never went air-borne. Which was a huge elife.
He had found that the virus didn’t go for one thing; it multiplied until it was strong enough to kill everything in the victims body. The rate at which the virus cell reproduced was amazing, at least 5 times faster then the average skin cell regeneration. Once the virus had enough ‘troops’ it attacked. From the lungs to the skin, it went for everything. Making the victim suffer immense pain and slowly begin to die.
Of course, not everyone died. Some were strong enough they fought of the virus, which had been a miracle in first place. And they came back stronger than before, several had even begun to notice differences in their body as well mind.
It was like the virus was the power of space, it chooses who lives and who dies. It might seem crazy, but it was all he could think about. How could only 57 out 300 survive a mass murdering virus without even the help of science and vaccines? It was unheard of, and so they had to keep tracking it. Though with only two subjects left, they had to work fast.
“Ruzel,” Michiel turned to his friend and stood up, “go down to the sick bay and check on those two, I’ll go and see if out special survivors had any change.”
Ruzel nodded, his face became taunt as Michiel spoke, but Michiel could see the scientist’s mind coming into play as Ruzel grabbed a holo-pad and mask to cover his face. He practically ran for the door.
There were times when Michiel worried about Ruzel. He had become cautious around the survivors right from the very beginning. Which, if you were a person who had barley gotten by a deadly virus with just the symptoms of the common-cold, you would too. But he has become very jumpy around them as well, like he expected them to jump him.
Michiel didn’t know what his problem is, but he would find out sooner or later.
Taking his own holo-pad, Michiel walked through his room, locking down CS and every device in his possession. Once he was done, he walked out the room and locked the door.
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