<div class="floatleft">(https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/8073552/bridge%20purple%202.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Mei-Li Xiang<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Briefing Room<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Doing:</strong>Being Briefed.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Well, that put a distinctly different spin on things. Mei-Li had been to successful mining colonies before, where everything was polished and efficient in the profit-making corporate style, ready to wringe every last drop of lucre out from the operation...And then, of course, there were the stories of when things went wrong. When operations were in the red, it was - paradoxically - usually better to keep things going rather than face the expense of shutting it down...Which was why you had a slow death spiral over a decade or two, until the last of the crew was shipped off, leaving only indie prospectors willing to risk life, limb and sanity in crumbling conditions...<br/><br/>The violet-haired beauty allowed herself a decorous shudder at the thought. Still...From the sound of things, it was a small, fairly insular place - She couldn't imagine what would possibly draw the attention of the Wardens...<br/><br/>-Except for the missing people. Her full lips curled in a thoughtful pout - Her head canting to the side, as she considered the stream. Now,<em>that</em>was unusual: She knew better than anyone that - on a space as small as a mining colony - there wasn't room for people to just...vanish. Everything - *everything* - was reused, one way or another...Besides, where *was* there to go?<br/><br/>Maybe it was gravity sickness...No, the effects would be more widespread. Her stylus scratched against her personal reader's screen, as she made notes - Some kind of mass paranoia, possibly triggered by claustrophobia or a deteriorating air mix? No, it didn't feel like that, either...But she'd have to hope for the best, and make sure the ship was equipped accordingly.<br/><br/>She cleared her throat, lifting her stylus for attention - Her brow furrowed, her expression thoughtful.<br/><br/>"...Do we know how<em>many</em>people have gone missing?" she inquired, brushing stray strands of hair back from her cheek. "More - How long have they been gone?" Her question lingered in the air, with the grim arithmetic evident - If it was an extended length of time...Given the conditions, she wouldn't hold out<em>too</em>much hope of locating survivors, though she'd keep *that* to herself for now.<br/>