Chapter 2 – Resurrection

“Good morning Mr. Bunny!”
Morning?
I open my eyes to a different view than when I last closed them: a large room full of equipment, monitors viewing vital signs and other information, bright lights and a bunch of people in lab coats walking back and forth between corridors. I guess my first source of discomfort came when there was a large crowd that seemed to be observing me, and I had nothing on me.
“Would you mind!?” I yelled, getting into a cowardly position to cover myself.
“No, not really.” The head lab researcher said. The female lab assistances giggled as I turned red, both in anger and embarrassment. He got up and went to a cabinet of sort and retrieved a white boxer pants, then threw them to me.
“I’m Dr. Reynard. Congratulations sir, cheating death is our job. Thankfully there was enough of you left to replicate your DNA from the wreckage, and presto! Bunny is born. Thanks to modern day technology, there were no casualties in the incident.” He said. “However, not everything was able to be returned successfully. I wouldn’t look in a mirror if I were you.”
I quickly looked around. On a tray not far away there was a hand-held mirror. I jumped off the platform were I was kept and ran for it.
“The plastic surgeons did everything in their power to make your face close to the original…” I picked up the mirror and looked in it. Nothing had changed.
“Oh, got you!” Dr. Reynard said. Everyone laughed; I was fumed, as you could have guessed. I gave him a taste of a nice knuckle sandwich in the face. I would have given him more, but the guards made it otherwise.
“He is fine; take him to the prep with the others.” Dr. Reynard hissed, wiping his nose off with a handkerchief of the bloody nose.
The prep room wasn’t much better mood-wise than the lab was. Everyone was in the same boxers or clothes I was given, and was in a single file line getting other objects. So finally being released by the guards (but still under their eyes), I walked in the back of the line.
As I was waiting my turn a tall male who was in front of me turned around and looked down on me with his dark eyes. Not to mention a very built guy with a deep voice and a scar the shape of three claw marks on his back.
“Looked like you just crapped your pants.” He said in a loud but somehow smooth voice.
“Not so loud!” I hushed. I really wasn’t in the mood or place for someone else to be cracking jokes. “Sorry bud. Hans’ the name.”
“…Mike…just call me Bunny.” Hans just stared for a few seconds, but he said “Nice meeting you Bunny.” I stood there just understanding what happened when I was next in line.
“Mr. Bunny…1 pair of shoes, and one standard issue colonist jumpsuit.”
“That is some jeans and a nice shirt right?” I asked. I just prayed it wasn’t flannel shirt with bell-bottoms. The person shoves a pile of bright orange gym jumpsuit in my direction. Wow…I could sense all the fashion designers rolling in their graves if they saw them. Made me want to curse at the person for such an ugly suit but was forced to move continue in line. Soon after we all marched into another shuttle, where we would finally make our way to Calypso. Definitely not what I had in mind when I embarked on this journey. But there was still a buzz of questions swarming in my head: Who attacked us? Were we actually dead? Did this ‘Calypso’ even exist? As I looked out the window of the shuttlecraft I did a quick prayer not to let what happened that day to repeat itself.

Chapter 3: Touchdown