Manio
From Gallifrey with love.
The waves slammed into the side of the ship sending various people on the deck stumbling. Luckily, the guard-rails were built high enough that nobody would be tossed overboard. The Paleozoic was one of the most expensive and state of the art cruiseships in the world and was built by Masrani to take its passengers around the exterior of Isla Sorna (Site B) so they could have the chance of seeing dinosaurs that weren't stuck behind fences and boundaries.
Of course, the ship was only allowed within a certain distance of the island so the chance of seeing an animal was something to look forward to. This was to be one of the final cruises of the year as the ship was due to go back to have some upgrades done to ensure the continued safety of everyone on-board.
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Captain Romero Hodges stood behind the wheel staring out the window into the vast ocean beyond and at the beautiful coastline of Isla Sorna. He had never set foot on either island owned by the company and had a sort of belief that the whole "playing God" work that they had done was a type of sin and he would take no part in the glorification of that, other than taking people around the island and during these trips they'd rarely see anything, so he was fine with that. However, before they left port a few days prior it was reported that a tropical storm was blowing in and that they should delay the cruise for a week, but Romero refused as the ship in his words was "built to withstand even the worst of hurricanes" and decided to go for the trip anyways, he was a man of faith and always believed God to be on his side.
The crew felt differently, and were painfully aware that the ship was due for upgrades to prevent these storms from causing it damage, but Romero had threatened them with firings and holding back their paychecks, so the crew reluctantly sided with their Captain and aided him in his trip that would no-doubt go badly if the storm coincided with their journey.
Romero lit up one his Cuban cigars and inhaled the smoke deeply, and breathed it out all over the cabin, the built-in filtration system sucking it out almost instantly. He smiled and turned the ship on auto-pilot and stepped away from the control and began to pour himself a drink as thunder cracked in the distanced, and waves continued to slam into the side of the ship.
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Sat in his room typing away on a laptop about the trip thus far and sucking from a can of Dr Pepper, Clarke Winters looked like your typical late-20s internet blogger. He wore black jeans, and a gray hoodie/jacket draped on and his hair was styled to look like he had bedhead. He had rough stubbled coating his chin. His laptop was adorned in stickers of various dinosaurs, and the desktop wallpaper on his computer was a picture of him standing somewhere in Masrani Global's other island, Jurassic World. He had only visited Jurassic World once back when it first opened in 2005, and had never been back since due to his inability to afford the trip, but had been presented with the chance of come on the cruise to Isla Sorna due to the popularity of his online blog about dinosaurs, and Masrani himself wanted a review of the cruiseline from someone who had knowledge and respect for these animals.
Clarke hadn't argued and took the first flight down to Costa Rica the following morning to take part in the final cruise of the year in which he'd document the entire thing for his blog, and he was then promised a free-lifetime pass to Jurassic World, something he couldn't pass up. He was excited about that prospect alone as he had heard through some grapevines that they were opening up a new enclosure at the park sometime this week about some new type of dinosaur, but that's all he knew.
He went to take a sip from the Starbucks Coffee sat on his deck, when some turbulence from the waves sent it dumping all over the floor of his room. Swearing under his breath, he stepped out of the room to get some towels from the linens closet.
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The sky had begun to darken and bigger and heavier waves were slamming into the side of the ship. Romero was still adamant that they would all be fine, but nerves were high amongst the crew as most of them had abandoned their posts and were taking cover in some of the more deeper recesses of the ship.
A beep blared out over his personal radio, and he cleared his throat and picked up the receiver.
"Yes?" He asked in a tone of annoyance.
A panicked voice responded on the other end.
"There's something going on with the-the-the engine. It's sparking, and grinding!" The voice then swore in Spanish, and hung up his end of the radio which Romero thought something had happened.
Groaning out in protest he slumped out of the cabin, and down the spiral stairs towards the engine room. He stepped inside and was immediately greeted with a spray of sea-water, and the screams of the engine-room workers. Somehow, a hole had opened up on the side of the wall and ocean water was pouring into the room causing the engine to spark, and grind in protest as the filtration system tried to dump the water as quick as it came pouring in.
There was a sound of metal being torn apart, and fuel erupted from the engine due to the excessive amounts of grinding and soaked Romero, and the workers through with fuel. Sputtering and coughing on the fuel, he stumbled towards the engine in an attempt to fix it for himself. He couldn't believe he had hired these imbeciles and would later blame them for the damage done to the ship. He wasn't going to take the fall for this.
As he ripped off one of the cover panels to the engine, something spared once again now that more wires were exposed and the entire room went up in flames and an explosion. Everyone in the room was killed instantly, and the shock-waves from the explosion tore through the remainder of the hull in the room, a surge of ocean water ripping into the lower portions of the ship.
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Clarke fell to the floor hard as rumbling tore through the lower decks of the ship. He struggled to his feet as heads began poking out from adjacent rooms down the hallway.
One particular elderly looking man had begun to speak when an explosion tore through the floor, and pulled the poor man deep into the carnage below, his screams muffled by the various explosions through-out the ship. Somehow, a chain reaction of explosions was tearing through the vessel and Clarke could smell ocean water and knew immediately that they were sinking...
He stumbled backwards, and fell through a glass pane out onto the exterior deck. As he rose, he noticed a Room Service Attendant get a piece of shrapnel impaled into his upper chest from an explosion, the blood spraying into Clarke's face. Before he could even comprehend what had happened, another explosion came into existence a few yards away from him and he could feel himself rising into the air, and in a few moments he felt himself plunge beneath the cold, salty water of the ocean...
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Coughing and sputtering awake his eyes snapped open and he found himself washed up on a beach with various corpses, and people stirring around him. Off in the distance he could vaguely make out a burning wreckage of a ship slowly sinking into the depths of the ocean.
He staggered to his feet and looked around. The beach was vast and rocky, the sound of thunder roaring in the distance as rain came down in torrents. A few hundred feet in front of them lay a vast jungle spanning the entirety of the island and a sinking feeling began to rise in Clarke's chest.
They had washed up on Site B...
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