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Yellow Ice Sea
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"Thanks, Vesper," I mumble groggily, grabbing the coffee bulb and flopping my hand over the arm rest as I waddle my bottom into my seat and touch one of the windows that materializes upon contact with the glossy, leather-like surface, and flick through pagefuls of mundane information on our destination. Orbiting planets and moons, et cetera, life sign assessment: probable spacefaring civilization on one moon, mostly harmless, and two other life-bearing worlds. I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, someone new to talk to.
Rubbing the nocturnal debris from my eyes, I thumb the Orrery into existence, the black star-filled cube swelling before me. Our path zigzags between red systems of interest, with our latest destination in a yellow crosshairs. Blue spheres - astrogation pulsars - blink slowly, from all sides. I stare, entranced, as I think about what to do.
1* Rouse the others from hibernation?
2* Get breakfast?
3* Try to initiate contact with the destination system.
4* Flirt with Vesper
5* Other
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