alloutstand | BUT WHAT IF...it was aliens.

[It's supposed to be an easy mission. Escort company cargo to Whedon station. The company pays well, this is routine. Under commander Garrett, they've co-opted (rented, as Ward is fond of saying) Captain Melinda May's ship. There's Jemma and Fitz, a pair of techs, Coulson, a science officer, Palamas, Piper, Wong, and Reaper - something that Grant gives him no end of shit for. Besides, they're going to be in hypersleep for a good month at least - possibly two, so while he salutes Skye - May's co-pilot and wonders what it would be like to share a tube with her, his mind is half on that and half on the crate that commander Garrett says is "essential" to survival. The back half of the trip'll end up being surprisingly boring. Sign in and out.

Ours is not to wonder why kid. Ours is but to do or fucking die. Just like your dad would want huh?

He'd never tell Garrett he considers him far more of a father then James Ward - board of directors member and personal friend of Weyland's ...lineage - but it looks good for HYDRA company having a son of the board of directors onboard. Thankfully the old man keeps it to himself. Palamas gives him a sympathetic look though as the ship shuts itself down, auto piloting out to the stars...

When he wakes up it's like no time has passed but something is clearly off. The place is quiet a few tubes are empty, and while he's puking his guts out and unaware of any of the other active pods there's no chance or opportunity to look up and see anything or anyone quite yet. He's just curled over trying to come back to his senses - senses that haven't alerted him to the lack of Garrett - overseeing his hypersleep as always - or Palamas and Piper playfully flirting.]

simple mission they said. go home on leave they said...

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[Windows, that's funny. She huffs a breath that comes out sounding less amused than she intended. Really, it was funny. She's just trying to keep down the lunch she ate two months ago. Windows would detract from the Zephyr's claustrophobic submarine aesthetic. There's only so much they can do with low lighting and exposed tubing.

Trip must be the Boy Scout of the unit, eyes forward the entire time. May's pretty sure Trip is making space travel look good, but her eyes aren't wandering either. The empty pods are giving her more than enough to look at and think about. For that matter, where the hell is Coulson? He'd usually be taking this time to recommend old-fashioned hangover cures.]

Make sure no one peeked inside the mystery box?

[That sounds like a whole lot of not her job, but since she became a civilian, she hasn't been in the habit of cashing cheques without asking questions. She'd be interested to know what they're hauling.]

[Ward manages a smile in May's direction.] The box is locked up tight.

[The quiet is really scaring him to be honest. At least as much as he can be scared.]

I'll take point. We need to hit the showers. Anyone else smelling that smell?

[She arches one eyebrow at Ward, skeptical. It smells like the pipes are backed up, the sleeping pods out of sync, the air is cycling half as much as it should, but their box is definitely right where they left it and sealed up tight? Is he sure about that? As she sees it, her ship isn't how she left it when she went to sleep. The mystery box might not be, either.]

Your call.

[The cargo is their responsibility, and the eerie quiet? That's her responsibility. She wants to know what the ship's computer has to say about it. Ward sounds like he has a plan, but she's having none of it.]

I'm gonna pass on that, Lieutenant commander.

[She pats Ward on the chest with some sympathetic condescension, then turns to walk off in the opposite direction from the showers. Might not even have been his correct rank. She refuses to recognize whatever authority he might think he has in this situation. Good luck taking point on Operation Bathtime.]

He has more confidence than I do. It's a charming quirk but it's not exactly harmful.

[ Trip pointed out with a little wave towards his brother in arms and Garett's golden boy toy. Though, he's taking that small noise/laugh from May as a total win. Trip just pushed off the sleeping pod he was leaning against before taking a few steps towards Ward with a little smirk.]

We check the package, we have one job on this boat. It's dumb but we gotta do it.

[ Don't mind him just turning his head as May walked away towards some where other than the showers.]

Eyes to yourself, solider.

[The quickest route to their actual gear? You guessed it: through the showers. May's heading for a row of lockers at the t-intersection outside the pod room. She stops there, searching through old clothes and odds and ends, and finally shimmies into an unflattering gunmetal-colored mechanic's jumpsuit. It's not as nice as a shower and her own clothes, but for how her day is shaping up, it'll do.

It's quiet enough that she barely has to raise her voice to be heard from down the corridor.] Sounds and smells like I've got repairs to do. I'll let you boys know what Mother says.

[Ward is wondering where Palamas is. He manages another smirk at Trip as he heads to rinse off.]

You like these guys? John was makin' eyes at the Captain earlier.

[It's hard to trust civvies man.] Where the hell's the soap?

They're all right. Hard to complain.

[ Well, he'll see how the dinner is on this boat before he makes any real judgements. Trip, on the other hand, is much more trusting about it all.]

If you make a drop the soap comment, I'm throwing you out an airlock.

With you? It'll be tough. I can't do better and we both know it.

[He smirks, grinning. His family's got some girl picked out for him when he gets home from his deployment.

He shucks the idea off with a tick of his head.]

Where are you going after we're done on this tour?

BUT WHAT IF...it was aliens.

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