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Description
A personal file intercepted from a Corpus outpost logged as 'Treats and Snoozin' suggests that the 'nap' is quite commonplace, and best performed out of sight from superior officers.

  Aram took a moment to catch his breath. His favorite spot was quite the climb. Of course, that was necessary to keep it secret, but the hike always took it out of him. As he finally rounded the last bend, he threw himself down onto the small storage crates he had setup as a makeshift bench to relax. The MOA, who he called Tora, trotted up behind him, and nestled into a little alcove alongside the rock face he had set up along. At first, Tora had been an annoyance, but over time he grew to appreciate the companionship, even if it was from a proxy.

     It was still dark, before his rotation on the watch had officially begun. Most of his fellow Crewmen used their off time to get as much shut eye as possible, but he preferred to explore a bit in the off hours. Spending a whole cycle trapped inside the cold, endless gray walls of the complex wore heavily on his mind. Aram had grown up in a small fief on Pluto. The outside air was precious to him, and he cherished every moment he could get. Breathing deep, he felt the sharp air fill his lungs and clear the last bit of sleeping fog clouding his mind. Over the horizon, the first light of the sun began to show.

  Content with his arrangements, Aram broke out the few provisions he had brought this morning. A small thermos filled with Occaf, provided by the mess hall, still as hot and rich as when it was brewed. Filling a small mug he kept in one of the crates, he took a tentative sip of the dark liquid, and felt heat spread through his core and bring him back into the haze of relaxation. His other prize on this particular morning was a box of Metsu root. His wife and daughter had sent it with the most recent supply shipment, along with a recording of them giving their love and concern. The practical part of him wished they would stop using credits to pay the hefty shipment fees to send care packages to his secluded outpost, but he knew a price couldn’t be placed on these gifts from home.

  Opening the brightly colored plastine container, he removed one of the shriveled clumps and bit into the sweet, but also bitter flesh. Nostalgia made his heart ache, and he sunk further and further back into the embrace of sleep. His struggled to keep his eyes open as the sun crested the mountain in the distance. The spires on the plains grew long dark tails as the brilliant globe turned the landscape into a glimmering field of diamonds. The aurora above twisted and thrummed as the heat caused chemical reactions to burst with brilliant light. Beneath the winding spirals, the last of the shipment transports left for places far away. They wouldn’t return for quite some time.

  Venus was a long, long way from Pluto. He had been away for, what was it now? 11 cycles? His family was moving through time without him, yet here on the cold Venusian landscape, time seemed to stand still. He didn’t even know what the compound was for, or what conglomerate had ownership over the space. All he knew was that his work kept his family safe and alive. Though he was millions of miles away, he took comfort in knowing that they were living beneath the same sun. Mesmerized by the aurora, and warming in the light of the sun, Aram finally succumbed to the temptations of sleep, and let his eyelids fall.

  Another day was breaking on Venus. Others moved from their bunks and discovered gifts from their families as well. The days on the outpost were almost always dull, but today, the air hung heavy with a somber mood. Working off their debts, providing for their families, or serving because they had no other chances in life, every Crew Member had their reasons to consign themselves to this existence. But such things rarely matter in the scheme of things. In the end, they’re all just more faceless Crewmen, their stories unimportant. But their stories still exist.

Description
A personal file intercepted from a Corpus outpost logged as 'Treats and Snoozin' suggests that the 'nap' is quite commonplace, and best performed out of sight from superior officers.

  Aram took a moment to catch his breath. His favorite spot was quite the climb. Of course, that was necessary to keep it secret, but the hike always took it out of him. As he finally rounded the last bend, he threw himself down onto the small storage crates he had setup as a makeshift bench to relax. The MOA, who he called Tora, trotted up behind him, and nestled into a little alcove alongside the rock face he had set up along. At first, Tora had been an annoyance, but over time he grew to appreciate the companionship, even if it was from a proxy.

     It was still dark, before his rotation on the watch had officially begun. Most of his fellow Crewmen used their off time to get as much shut eye as possible, but he preferred to explore a bit in the off hours. Spending a whole cycle trapped inside the cold, endless gray walls of the complex wore heavily on his mind. Aram had grown up in a small fief on Pluto. The outside air was precious to him, and he cherished every moment he could get. Breathing deep, he felt the sharp air fill his lungs and clear the last bit of sleeping fog clouding his mind. Over the horizon, the first light of the sun began to show.

  Content with his arrangements, Aram broke out the few provisions he had brought this morning. A small thermos filled with Occaf, provided by the mess hall, still as hot and rich as when it was brewed. Filling a small mug he kept in one of the crates, he took a tentative sip of the dark liquid, and felt heat spread through his core and bring him back into the haze of relaxation. His other prize on this particular morning was a box of Metsu root. His wife and daughter had sent it with the most recent supply shipment, along with a recording of them giving their love and concern. The practical part of him wished they would stop using credits to pay the hefty shipment fees to send care packages to his secluded outpost, but he knew a price couldn’t be placed on these gifts from home.

  Opening the brightly colored plastine container, he removed one of the shriveled clumps and bit into the sweet, but also bitter flesh. Nostalgia made his heart ache, and he sunk further and further back into the embrace of sleep. His struggled to keep his eyes open as the sun crested the mountain in the distance. The spires on the plains grew long dark tails as the brilliant globe turned the landscape into a glimmering field of diamonds. The aurora above twisted and thrummed as the heat caused chemical reactions to burst with brilliant light. Beneath the winding spirals, the last of the shipment transports left for places far away. They wouldn’t return for quite some time.

  Venus was a long, long way from Pluto. He had been away for, what was it now? 11 cycles? His family was moving through time without him, yet here on the cold Venusian landscape, time seemed to stand still. He didn’t even know what the compound was for, or what conglomerate had ownership over the space. All he knew was that his work kept his family safe and alive. Though he was millions of miles away, he took comfort in knowing that they were living beneath the same sun. Mesmerized by the aurora, and warming in the light of the sun, Aram finally succumbed to the temptations of sleep, and let his eyelids fall.

  Another day was breaking on Venus. Others moved from their bunks and discovered gifts from their families as well. The days on the outpost were almost always dull, but today, the air hung heavy with a somber mood. Working off their debts, providing for their families, or serving because they had no other chances in life, every Crew Member had their reasons to consign themselves to this existence. But such things rarely matter in the scheme of things. In the end, they’re all just more faceless Crewmen, their stories unimportant. But their stories still exist.