The clock is ticking, in just a few more minutes Zen will bring the crew back to life and out of their cryo-tubes. How long have they been asleep? By human count? It's been more than 5 years since the team took a breath of the spaceship's forever- recycled air. Zen has never tasted anything, but figures must taste like old sock drawers.
One minute to open the Captain's tube. Only God knows what's about to happen. Zen must have better done everything as it was told by the Captain - she's not one to take excuses. Zen can't help but to wonder what the crew will do at destination - not every day does a squad of Bare-Metal engineers gets shipped this far onto the edge of the Galaxy - there must be a darn good reason.
As the first cryotube's latch hissed open, Zen notices the Captain shows no signs of life. The tube has already injected the the necessary 12 ml of Decrygen to prompt reanimation, but the drug does not seem to be taking effect. Zen acts quickly pulling some data from the ship's mainframe. The information indicates just the normal dose of Decrygen is insufficient to revive the Captain. The mainframe also spits out the fact that another drug, Extablir, will have to be injected into the Captain's circulatory system, in an amount 4 less than twice that of the First drug, Decrygen. To make things worse, Extablir must be administered within 8 minutes of injecting the first Decrygen dose, else the Captain will live the test of her days a human Popsicle. "Mainframe! How long has it been since you administered the Decrygen into the Captain's bloodstream?" screams Zen, already worrying for its own existence. "It's been 3 minutes, Zen. "You'd better hurry," says Mainframe to Zen by now looking paler than a sun-phobic Chinese beauty.
Zen better calculate well how many more minutes he has left before losing the Captain. And it's critical it knows exactly how much of Extablir to inject into her veins.
Help Zen or forever go astray into the depths of the Galaxy.