Everything that keeps us alive out there is man-made. It’s a machine. Everything we touch, breathe, see, stand on, lie on, eat, and use is a tool designed to keep us moving and working. When it goes wrong, it’s usually fixable, replaceable, or patchable. When it goes really wrong, it can kill a lot of people. Yeah, to be honest, I was supposed to sugar coat that for you, and I kinda didn’t. Sorry.
When things go wrong, the suits upstairs want to know why. How did it happen? Why did it happen? Who was responsible? How can we stop this from happening again? Basically, they’ll want to get it fixed so that it doesn’t affect productivity, then point the finger at someone so that the company doesn’t have to accept liability.
Sigma Madelline is a Survey Outpost, cataloging that star system for resources. They are accompanied by three full-size starships – one cargo transport and two science vessels. And as of two weeks ago, all communication has ceased. The last report shows a disaster has occurred. We're not expecting any alive.
It's six months in the tube, then when you wake up, you need to find out what happened on Survey Outpost Sigma Madelline. Get as much info as you can, fix what you can, and when there is nothing left to do, come home and report.
You signed up for a long jaunt, knowing that it would knock a year off your contract, a year where you wouldn't age much since you'd spend most of it in a cryo tube. But there were hazards, of course. That long in the black, on a ship not much to look at, lots can go wrong. It rarely does, but you tell each other a thousand horror stories before you seal yourself in.
Teller, the resident SAM (synthetic automaton) is the face you last see before the chill. It's expressionless plastic mask isn't realistic looking -- it turns out people really despise androids that could pass as human. Teller will monitor the universe for you, and awake you when you arrive at system of Sigma Madelline. Or if there is a disaster. Either or.
You awake, one by one, your bodies feeling like last week's hairballs, regurgitated, discarded and desiccated. Teller hands each of you a nutrient drink, one you're desperate for and one you're not sure your stomach can handle. There is something about Teller's face that tells you not everything is right in the universe. Whatever it is, you're currently in no shape to handle it.
Let's introduce ourselves. Describe your characters for each other, and include something the others might have learned about you before departure.