Amidst some confused and apathetic glances, the duo separated from the rest of the group and went their own way. He could hear them already discussing their own intentions, though they were out of shot and beyond a doorway threshold Jemma and Joel had crossed, so their words were left essentially unheard. The warmth of Jemma's proximity had him soon forget the rest of the companions as they went on a venture towards the medical bay in order to investigate the information they had found on the Cobalt. In truth, Joel did not know how to feel. Part of him reveled in the fact that they were now as close to home as they could be. The thought of whatever affected the station haunted his mind, however, and he found little solace in the prospect that it might spread -- for lack of a better word -- to the CENTAUR. "Don't be so pessimistic," he assured in a low voice, "I think we can escape this and forget this hell hole." He knew that last bit was a lie; there was no forgetting what they had seen. "Even if it takes a few years of therapy back home." A smile managed to slip its way over his face as he glanced back.<br/><br/>If this was a nightmare, it was the longest he had experienced. However, dreams were far slower than the real world.<i>Maybe I'll stir eventually.</i><i>Maybe I'm dead already.</i>It brought back wild ideas about the human mind and many had been discussing how that worked for centuries. Joel did not know the human psyche so well, so he brought himself to focus on the tasks at hand. Jemma's office was immediately recognized and the two entered the small space, with little else to disturb them from conducting their research. Jemma's reminder to execute some calculations spurred him into motion again and he peeked around the confined space, looking for something to utilize as a writing platform. A tablet happened to be nearby and he made a grab for it to use to show his work, "Numbers, yeah... ironically, I'm not too good at those," he confided as he brought the tablet and sat across from Jemma.<br/><br/>"I mean, I<i>can</i>do them, but I'm never confident in my answers. The computer does most of the calculations for us, honestly, and even if I<i>do</i>mess up something that I need to do by hand, one of the other pilots could review my work and catch it." Upon the tablet, he began writing out some sketches, numbers, and letters. Orbital dynamics was one of his more tedious classes to overcome. Half the class was designed to know what the mathematics was and the other half was designed to show how to input the data onto a computer, should anything fail. Ideally, he would have known how to do this with his eyes closed, but it had been a while since having to do the numbers by hand. Joel bit his bottom lip as he worked with his finger, making designs and erasing mistakes as he came across them.<br/><br/>"I'm kind of scared," he said after a few arduous moments of working out an issue on the device, "I don't know if we'll really survive. Everything here is so... bizarre."