Alvarez leaned back in his chair as he brought his glass of vintage pax rye whiskey to his lips. The high iron content in Paxian soil gave the whiskey a unique palate - often described as rusty and scummy. It was an acquired taste, but Alvarez had grown up on the stuff. The dim amber glow of his desk lamp glimmered on the surface of the liquid. He took a sip, holding it in his mouth for a few seconds, saturating his taste buds with the bittersweet memory of home.

He was tired of watching the universe fly by in moments. Each time he did a jump, decades would pass on his homeworld. Generations had come and gone in the time it had taken him to age into an old man. His planet had become completely alien to him; it was only a memory of Pax which he still called home. He was never going back.

A red light flashed on the wall. Swallowing the last sip of whiskey he had been swirling around in his mouth, Alvarez pulled himself out of his chair. It was time to jump.

In the main corridor nearest to the bridge, the chief officers’ immersion tanks were set apart from the rest. Designated medical crew were assigned to the officers, preparing each of them for hibernation. The last to enter their tanks would be the captain and first mate, followed by the medical crew who had prepped for them.

Fabian stood in the middle of the corridor amongst his peers as they were being plugged into their tanks. Every few minutes, another tank would be closed and sealed shut. Once they were locked, the sound of fluid rushing into the tank could be heard faintly through thick steel walls.

“Worried about the tanks?” Alvarez asked as he approached Fabian.

“No, sir. Just remembering what it was like to wake up in one of them,” Fabian responded. 

Alvarez shuddered at the memory of the hazing practice from bootcamp. They called it Goldfish Day. Officially, it was an exercise essential to the Navy training program. Unofficially, it was a practice used to weed out the weak minded.

Alvarez stood beside Fabian, hands behind his back as he looked out over the rows upon rows of general crew tanks which stretched down the corridor for miles - hundreds of lives which he held in his hands.

Alvarez unfolded his hands. “Fabian,” he said, “if you want to have a discussion about my decisions regarding this mission, now is the time.”

“No, sir,” Fabian responded bluntly. He retrieved a tablet which had been kept under his arm and flipped it open, scanning through several engineering reports which he had just received.

“You had plenty to say during our meeting earlier,” Alvarez said, “and as much as I respect your opinion, I can’t allow you to undermine my decisions in front of the crew. If you have anything to say, let’s talk.”

Fabian shut his tablet, tucking it back under his arm. “Sir, you already know how I feel. I suspect that is why you kept me in the dark until now.” Fabian lowered his voice so no one around them would hear, “I don’t understand why you trust the Andromech, but I will keep my disapproval to myself until that thing is off the ship. If we make it out alive, then I’ll be proven wrong and we’ll have something to talk about.”

As Fabian was about to pull out his tablet again, Alvarez interjected. “Fabian, it may be hard to imagine, but I’ve lived through over three hundred years of human history since I started my career in the Navy. You’ve only been alive for a few years longer than we’ve served together. After you’ve flown a few dozen missions, maybe you’ll understand.”

“Sir,” Fabian said, “no amount of perspective can change what I’ve experienced. You are a good captain, which is why I will follow you to whatever end this universe has in store for us. I just hope that end is not at the hands of our own misplaced trust in something we don’t understand.”

As Fabian spoke, a nurse approached him. Once he had finished speaking, she led him away to get him ready for immersion. Alvarez was left alone in the corridor.

Odie sat with his legs hanging over the lip of his immersion tank. He was wearing plain white shorts and an undershirt, his arms and legs bare. Dozens of his crew mates bustled about in what was essentially their undergarments - each finding their designated tank and taking a seat as they waited for a nurse.

Odie found the sight amusing. Everyone’s professional attitude seemed humorous given the circumstances. People were bobbing up and down the hall, giving salutes, saying “yes sir” and “yes ma’am,” and had very serious looks on their faces, all while dressed in their underwear. He’d never seen most of the crew out of a uniform; they looked like a bunch of featherless chickens. 

The humor was unfortunately undercut by a nervous air which hung about the crew. They had all learned about liquid immersion tanks in training, but never expected to actually be put into one.

The tanks were long cylinders set in the walls, about three feet in diameter and twenty feet long, stacked in groups of three and running along the length of the corridor. Before the jump, each tank would fill with a breathable perfluorochemical solution. The crew would be fully immersed for the duration of the jump, the fluid filling their lungs to protect them from the forces caused by high acceleration.

It was a cause of mass anxiety for the crew - the thought of being unconscious for forty days, submerged in fluid, and stuffed in a cramped tube with no control - no way to get out. Odie was unfazed by the idea. To him, it seemed no more dangerous than a space walk. Simply traveling through space invited a myriad of new ways to die horribly, and sudden death by immersion tank decompression didn’t seem that bad in comparison. He was fascinated by the idea that he would be breathing a liquid for the next month and a half. 

Nurses made their way from tank to tank, checking vitals, administering drugs, and prepping each crew member for extended hibernation. A nurse stepped up to Odie, pushing a cart ahead of her. As she began to attach an electrode to his arm, a familiar voice called out from behind her: “I got this one!”

The nurse ceded to Nell as she approached. As soon as he saw her, Odie knew Nell was in crisis control mode. She had a look in her eyes like she was running through scenario after scenario in her head. When she was like this, Odie wished he could do or say something to help. But he knew the best thing he could do was hang back and let her do her job.

She got to work on Odie, hardly making eye contact. She had a million different things she had to think about, and she hadn’t come to keep him company. The only person she wanted to take care of him was herself, so that was the job she was there to do.

“Hey, Nellie,” he said when he had a chance to catch her eye for a moment, “it’s gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be fine.”

She sighed as she began cleaning a spot on his wrist to insert an IV. “You can say that,” she said, “but if even one person doesn’t make it through this, I’m the one who’s responsible.”

“Everyone is going to be fine,” Odie reassured her, “we’ve done triple the required safety checks on the immersion tanks, and from what I’ve seen your nurses are being extremely diligent.”

Nell offered a weak smile to Odie in response. She then procured a long thick needle from the cart beside her. Odie eyed it suspiciously. “Do you have to?” He asked.

As she inaudibly muttered a response, Nell held Odie’s arm in place and located a large vein above his wrist. Odie kept his gaze fixed on the needle as she pressed it into his skin. He cringed as he felt the prick, and held his breath as it slid into his arm, but he didn’t look away. He liked to face things that made him squeamish. It made him feel like he was able to stand up to his fears.

There was a pinch as Nell secured the IV, taping it to his skin and then wrapping a band around his wrist to keep it in place. She then attached a tube which ran into the immersion tank.

Once she was done, she did a few tests, attached some electrodes to Odie’s chest, arms, and legs, then measured out several different medications for him to take.

“You’re going to start feeling drowsy in a few minutes,” she told him, “then you need to lie down. Don’t get up for anything. If you need something urgently, you can call a nurse. You may begin to feel nauseous or dizzy. If you throw up, do it on the floor. Try not to get it in the tank.”

Nell squeezed Odie’s hands. She held them for a few seconds, trembling slightly. Her eyes were ringed with worry, and she finally met Odie’s gaze. They sat quietly looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Odie didn’t want her to leave - he just wanted her to stay there with him until he fell asleep.

She began to let go, but before she could turn away, Odie pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew close, kissing him gently before leaning back.

“Try not to worry too much about me,” he said, “I’m going to be alright.”

The corners of Nell’s lips pulled up into a smile, and her face softened. “I’ll try my best. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” she said.  With that, Nell pulled away and hurried down the hall.

Within minutes, Odie felt the anesthetic kicking in. He laid back into his tank, a warm numb feeling spreading throughout his body. Soon, all went dark, and he remembered nothing afterwards.

Swirling shadows dashed about within the sightless deep. A shaking, rumbling sound reverberated like a brass gong. Odie opened his eyes, but saw nothing. He heard a swirling tumult in his ear, and felt the cool touch of water against his skin. He tried to breathe, but the air felt sluggish and hard like tar. Reaching out, he found that he was tightly enclosed by cold, slick metal. Panic came over him as the space seemed to tighten around him. He pushed against the walls with his arms and legs. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his mouth. In a moment of lucidity, he realized what had happened - he had woken up in the immersion tank.

He wasn’t supposed to be awake, not until the journey had ended and the tanks were emptied and opened. He had no sense of time and no way of knowing how long he had been locked in the tube, or how long until he would be let out.

There was a reason he was meant to be asleep - his conscious mind wasn’t accepting the liquid in his lungs. It was like a thick boiling vapor had been forced down his throat. In his mind, he knew it was safe. He needed to focus on slowly breathing in and out, but his body rebelled against him as he began to panic. His legs shook and his arms flailed on their own. He convulsed violently, thrashing like a rabid dog. He had lost all control as he began to suffocate. Carbon dioxide slowly filled his lungs. He needed to focus on breathing, holding still, and slowing his heart rate, but there was only one thought in his mind: I am going to die.

Odie pounded on the walls of the tube, hoping someone would save him. It didn’t matter to him that he would be instantly crushed by thousands of pounds of force if the hatch opened while they were accelerating. Reason had abandoned his mind, and he clawed the walls like an animal.

He was completely isolated. Nobody could hear him. Nobody could save him. As his mind began to fade, the image of Nell opening his tank to find his corpse flashed in his mind. It was going to break her heart.

Then, there was a brief clanking sound followed by a brilliant flash of light. Odie was swept away by a sudden rush of fluid and pulled out into the light. He landed with a thud and a splat on the floor outside his tank. A tall figure dressed in a Navy uniform loomed over him.

Odie squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. The man wore a pale expression on his jagged face. Once the fog lifted from Odie’s mind, he recognized the man. Rather, he recognized Jakob.

“Odysseus, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh,” Jakob said matter-of-factly.

Odie tried to say something, but was suddenly aware of the fluid still trapped in his lungs. He began hacking and spitting, gasping for air as a yellow-orange mucousy fluid spilled from his mouth. The exertion caused his stomach to turn, and he wretched, vomiting a white milky substance. He couldn’t get a breath between coughing and puking, and wished someone would bash his head with a wrench and put him out of his misery. After a few minutes, he was able to take shallow breaths without instigating another coughing fit. He shook from the exertion; a wavering groan slipped past his lips.

The ship stopped accelerating, Odie thought, otherwise I would be dead.

“Apologies for the rude awakening,” Jakob said as he extended a hand for Odie to take, “this is an emergency.”