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Lost-Chances
There's no such thing as a winnable war. It's a lie we don't believe any more.

Age 33, Male

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Mousai

Posted by Lost-Chances - September 24th, 2010


Well, I figured I'd get the news out and use this as a dumping ground for links.

What links exactly? Well, as my little "I'M OFF TO DO STUFF BRB!" gift, I decided I'd make two stories. One these week and one next week while I have to sort out my internet. However, a story idea I had grew and grew to the point where I thought potentially I could do a two-parter. Two pages in, it might end up as a three-parter. Anyway, I'll be posting it into separate topics (I could do it all in the same topic but...Eehh...Nah, I probably wouldn't) and dumping all the links here. So this news post will probably act as advertisement and dumping ground for links.

Anyway, so what is Mousai? A sci-fi (I guess? It's not really that futuristic, it's more people in a spaceship that's making it scientific) action/horror/tragedy story where a trip to Mars and back goes badly. How badly is something you'll see. Any other details would either be spoiling parts or putting parts that haven't been written down yet, or both. First part will be released today or tomorrow. Other parts will be released in the future at some point.

Edit: So I did the first chapter. One problem is it severely lacks a "Jackson said this" and "Jones said that" part so dialogue may be confusing if you don't understand the personalities saying shit. I'll edit it later since I'm short on time, but once editted, I'll make a topic for the story.
Mousai

Equipment check. Check.
Oxygen check. Check.
Basic systems check. Check.
Communication systems check. Check.
Oxygen systems check. Check.
Thruster systems check. Check.
Surveillance systems check. Check.
Misc advanced systems check. Check.

"Nervous?"
"Of course, aren't you?"
"Haha, why would I be? This is a piece of cake."
"Piece of cake? I'd hardly call space exploration a piece of cake. At least ten astronauts have died and those who haven't have had to n****r-rig their ship at some point due to some malfunction or some accident. This wouldn't be easy."
"Naturally, but we'll pull through. The good guys, despite all the struggle to come home, manage to. "
"Tell that to the Challenger crew."
A booming voice interrupted them "Hey kids. Quit your arguing or I'm going to turn this rocket around".
"Aaww daaaad".
A roar of laughter left the room silent and everyone peaceful. Currently, all the crew were strapped into their seats in the launch pod of the ship, a steel room with some walls blinking in a random order with various dials, interfaces and dashboards measuring large variations of things from oxygen, to power being given to the engine, to the status of the outer hull. The only thing lighting the room besides the dials were two over-head bar lights. If I didn't know that the lights are very reliable and new, I'd expect a flicker for added effect.

About an hour later, everyone's headset received the voice of a calm scientist obviously barely containing his emotions, his voice was noticeably a slightly higher pitch than the normal male human being. I knew the speaker and even bantered about sport to him on breaks. Dr Edward Jackson loved the Dallas Cowboys while he would tell him about how the New England Patriots were going to kick those steers' asses. We'd then insult each other's team almost to a point where we displayed our knowledge of the opposing team more than we actually displayed knowledge of our own team. He did last minute check ups with each member of the squad depending on what they had to do. Ralph Jones was first. Jones was our crew leader, in charge of keeping us in order with his loud strong voice and his loud strong fists if it came to it. He was as built as the rest but had a more square head and dark brown eyes. He was reminded of team leader protocol and was informed of over-ride keys. Next was Joseph Cruz, a more lean than built man who was our technician, he possessed a shallow long face and tended to keep silent. Cruz was told of over-ride keys to the system (although those over-rides could be over-ridden by Jones), other key parts of the systems that should be checked, and more intimate underlying computer details that should be monitored to avoid software failure.

Dr Ellen Griswold was the ship's medic and psychiatrist. She monitored the mental states of the crew for instability while treating any physical injuries. She was also in charge of more delicate matters if someone needed to be put down. Griswold was pessimistic and cynical to the point of sometimes getting on the nerves of others. While determined, she's the first to point out that everything may not work out and to prepare for the worst. Dr Jackson read off, with a few mispronunciations Dr Griswold corrected, her reminders. He obviously has no idea what any of it means, confirming the suspicion at the end saying "You know what this all means and I make sense Griswold?", "Confirm". James Gail was a built average looking man with piercing green eyes, there were no noticeable physical features besides a slight scar through his eyebrow. The only noticeable thing about Gail was his alternative sexuality, he was gay. It even lead to media attention with pro-gay rights groups applauding the decision. At best, it made everyone uneasy including James since his sexuality never even entered the equation of why he was on board. It was only the media who made there being a gay crew on a rocket something to care about, which lead to republicans yelling homophobic nonsense and liberals yelling pro-homosexual nonsense. I couldn't help but think, as I watched James cry on Dr Jackson's shoulder in the locker room after a mob did a homophobic march against specifically James on a public street in Mississippi that I couldn't help but wonder if maybe people forgot James was a person and not just a flag or monument of homosexuality. Gail was in charge of the food, water and plant life which served as oxygen rejuvenation, and was reminded of what to do in the cases of emergencies.

Gareth Richards was the next to be talked to. Gareth could be described as a prideful person with a large ego. His frat-boy-like attitude sometimes rode people up the wrong way, but he was a great person to be with. He was always dependant to keep spirits high and to help look on the bright side (which often led to conflicts with Griswold's pessimism). He was also surprisingly good at maths, his skills better than all but one scientist, which then it was a friendly rivalry between him and Dr Richard May. Richards is best described as built to an above average point, even stronger than Ralph Jones, but lacking the martial arts ability Jones has which usually leads to him making a fool of himself when attempting to spar Jones, something he does on a surprisingly often basis considering the large losing streak. He was in charge with navigation and was the assistant technician, being reminded of above-basic computer things and of navigational concerns and equations; of course with Richards telling Dr Jackson he knew it all already and didn't need to be reminded.

Finally, it was me. I was also an assistant technician but was more involved with maintenance work.
"Williamson, do you really need reminders of what you need to do? I'm sure you're the type to take your homework home, re-read it a hundred times while watching The Patriots losing and be able to get a score high enough on your own to get you in trouble for apparent cheating".
"Always joking all the way to the end, please can I have the reminders, just to make sure I've remembered everything."
"Haha, I'm sure you have, I'd even put money it but alright. In terms of technicians details, you will make sure everything is okay according to the status reports. You'll be checking everything anyway as part of maintenance so you can make sure the dials are at least close to correct. You'll need to keep an eye on oxygen and fuel above everything else, but also keep an eye on other status reports. Anything out of the ordinary in terms of computers, report to Cruz, anything strange in terms of maintenance you are in control of making sure it's fixed yourself but if you are unable to you are to report to Jones. You will want to be careful with your tool equipment in particular above everyone else's since they are more likely to get lost or disrupt equipment. All non-emergency repairs should be logged and/or reported to Jones, depending on what Jones wants. Any important equipment such as suits or anything that could leak oxygen out or lead to it should be reported to Jones directly after either clear indication of not to use the faulty equipment or with enough repairs to make sure it doesn't pose a danger. Any questions?"
"Sure, one, this year will The Cowboys finally get banned for all those obviously illegal tackles?"
"Haha, there was you complaining I wasn't being serious. Anyway, I'll talk to you when you get back from your trip. I'll try to send videos or audio messages to you with your family's messages to minimise complaints from the higher-ups when I can. Good luck with your mission and may God guide you there and home."
"Thanks, and I'll try to keep in contact with you, I guess I'll be talking to you later."
"You too".

What seemed like hours went past in the small steel tin can. We were all bantering among ourselves about things like what we'll do when we get home and how things will of changed since we were gone. The radio crackled and a loud voice erupted through the headset, one that was familiar too well. Dr John Croshaw was one of the main important people in NASA and was usually involved with being a spokesman, a presenter and generally speaking to others. Dr Croshaw had a talent in convincing people despite their strong beliefs on the contrary to let something happen, or to give good press speeches. He started off with a "Hello gentlemen", coughed a little and then carried on:

"Gentlemen, you are no longer simply men in the eyes of your fellow citizens. You are heroes who reached out and touched what was untouched before. You are no longer simply mortals in the eyes of your fellow citizens, you are demi-gods who achieved what had never been achieved before. You are no longer average people, but among the best humanity has to offer. Today, you will be leaving us and embarking on a mission no man has done before. You will be able to witness Mars with your own two eyes as you drift around it. You will all go down in history along side Neil Armstrong as we make another significant milestone in our quest for space exploration. This will be a success story not only for America, but for humanity it's self. May God guide you all to your destination and then back home."

We waited in silence, I could tell one or two of us wanted to make a comment about how cheesy the speech was but we all felt all eyes on us. The camera in the corner, still blinking, was sending black and white video to the base, along with audio. One word to indicate our dislike of Dr Croshaw and while nothing would happen right away, he'd be pulling strings to make sure whoever uttered a word would pay for it; one way or another.

A short while latter, a large continuous explosive noise erupted underneath, with it increasing in noise as time went on. "Thrusters on, countdown commence, launch in one minute" a robotic-like voice barked over the headset. "So it begins" Jones sighed.
"Indeed so, just hope this goes as smoothly as Richards claim"
"What do you take me for Williamson, of course this will end up fine."
"I'm just saying, I doubt it'll be as smooth as you think, but I'm sure we'll end up fine."
"No reason to think otherwise man. We've gone through drill after drill of all sorts of scenarios. Deaths of crew, hull breach, electronics death, everything you can think of. We'll be ready when they throw what they have at us, and we'll come out perfectly well as long we all stay in order. If you don't stay in order, well, me, left fist and right fist will have to get you back in order."
"Cool it Richards. We don't need to threaten anyone. You have got a mouth on your face and a brain in your skull, those two things will solve more problems with people than those fists of yours."
"Haha, I was just saying that we need to keep logical, stay in order and we'll come back alive with maybe some holiday snaps".
"10 seconds".
"9"
"8"
"7"
"6"
"5"
"4"
"3"
"2"
"1"
"Lift off".

Despite training, nothing can truly prepare you for being shot into space. It can easily be compared to someone putting a foot into your back, grabbing both of your cheeks and pulling back. Every single loose part of your body tenses up as though it's received a small electric shock. Your bones feel condensed. You can barely think because of the feeling of your brain being crushed by something, but you can't feel what. I could almost feel my consciousness slip away into the air behind the rocket as we rose higher and higher into the sky. Finally, there's the sound of something burning against the metal outside, until finally, the thrusters turn off and a feel of the ship losing a lot of weight after a big clang goes through the ship.

We had broken through Earth's atmosphere and now the next thing to do was to just point the ship towards Mars and float on.


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