ON: << Enlisted Mess, Deck 7 -- Day 2, 1307 >> Three minutes, forty-three seconds. 3.72 minutes if you wanted to be Vulcan about it; 223 seconds if you preferred your chronometry in loose change. Whichever way you decided to parse it, that was how long it had taken Ocasta to step out of his quarters...

ON: << Ocasta's Quarters -- Day 2, 1300 >> A fresh uniform pulled over freshly showered skin, Oisín Ocasta stared at his own reflection. He was told that you could barely notice, that you could barely see the implants, the scars, the kintsugi of synthetic parts that bound the fractured pottery of hi...

ON: << En route to Starbase 122 -- Day 2, 0800 >> Oisín Ocasta awoke to darkness. Not the soft, liquid darkness of night, that draped across and molded around the shapes of your surroundings, yielding to the faint flickers and glows of whatever light cast stray photons around the space; but the hars...