<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/5/58/Chloe_1.jpg/600px-Chloe_1.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><br/><strong>NAME:</strong>Sarah Moreno<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Plain prison issue coverall and plain cloth shoes<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Atmospheric Controls<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Ciane, Any<br/><br/><hr/><br class="clear_left"/><br/><br/>At the sound of cloth tearing, Sarah found herself doing something unexpected: she laughed.  Not that she really wanted to, of course not, and she did her best to turn the noise into a cough instead, but some strange combination of stress, worry, and the whole surreal situation drew a giggle out of her before she could stop it.  "Oh, sorry, I -- "  She broke off and cleared her throat, now thinking that she should have just ignored the entire thing instead of trying to apologize for it, and scrambled to try to work her way out of the hole she was digging for herself.  "It isn't like any of our clothes really fit, anyway.  I'll try and help you find something more your size later, okay?" she offered before she could think better of it.  "Something less, um, drafty," she added, again fighting off a giggle.  "I'll stop talking about that now, promise."<br/><br/>And certainly the news from the AI was far from amusing, much like its attempt at humor.  "Twenty four hours," she muttered to herself, a day suddenly seeming more like an eternity.  Did it really matter where the debris had come from?  All she could think of was the irony of a ship designed to collect debris being disabled by debris.  "So.  Anyone know how to operate heavy machinery?  Because no matter what that AI says, I'm not sure there's really going to be anything<em>simple</em>about hauling that debris in under the circumstances."  As if to underline that thought, the ship let out a faint, distant groan.