A while ago I wrote a piece called "Are You Sure?". This follows Jeanne Lankford, the wife in the couple depicted in that piece.
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As she awoke, she was blinded by the fluorescent light overhead. She quickly blinked the tears from her lavender eyes as she tried to focus. Her stomach twisted. She leaned over the edge of the cryo-tube and gagged as oxy-fluid spilled from her lungs onto the floor.
Fuck, I hate cryo-travel, she thought as she swung her legs over the edge of the tube and straightened. She sucked her teeth as her bare feet hit the frigid metal. The film coating her skin began to peel as she stretched. She shivered and hurried from the cryo-bay and into the adjacent showers. As the door hissed open, she was hit by a wave of steam; a pleasant change from the bitterly cold cryo-stasis chamber.
Her eyes barely open, she shuffled over to one of the spigots and punched the button. A heated jet of a mixture of cleaner and water rained down on her shoulders. She scrubbed her chestnut hair, washing out the stasis-gel. As she let the liquid wash over her body she felt someone move next to her. A girl with shorn mousy hair leaned against the shower wall, her eyes still squeezed shut.
“Ivanova, are you okay?” she asked.
“I… hate… cryo-travel,” hacked the girl.
“Me too.” She finished washing the residue off her body and headed into the locker room where her platoon had stored their gear before leaving Port Erikson. She pulled on her fatigue pants and slipped the suspenders over he shoulders. She pulled on her undershirt and jacket. She jumped as someone hugged her from behind and kissed her neck. She spun around and was greeted by the smiling face of Sergeant Ruby Marlowe.
“Good Morning, Lankford! You’ve sleeping in again?” asked Marlowe grinning.
“You know how cryo effects me, besides, I’d check on Cal, she was looking rough in the showers.”
“I’ll get Mom to check on her. You hungry?” asked Marlowe. Jeanne hadn’t thought about it. Her stomach growled.
“Yeah… What’s on the menu?”
“The usual, garbage.” joked Marlowe, “Though, it’s probably better than the shit at Fort Slyborn.” Jeanne smiled, she leaned forward to kiss her partner, but they were interrupted by a harsh cough. They stepped apart as Senior Trooper Calinka Ivanova, stumbled into the locker room.
“Cal!” cried Marlowe, rushing over to the wheezing girl.
“I’m fine!” barked Ivanova, “Just give me a moment for fucks sake!”
“I want you to get Mom to check up on you. That’s an…” Marlowe was interrupted as another coughing fit over took Ivanova. The message got through though, as the mousy girl nodded between breaths. Jeanne smiled. She loved how Marlowe looked after the squad, kind of like a big sister. She scanned the locker room.
“Where’s everyone else?” she asked.
“Oh, they’re already at the mess. I wanted to make sure you two were awake first.” explained Marlowe, “you can head over, I’ll take care of Cal.”
“I’ll wait,” said Jeanne. Ivanova eventually coughed up the last of the oxy-fluid in her lungs and pulled on her fatigues. Marlowe gave her an another once over before they all headed for the elevators.
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