Phoebe startled me by placing her hand on my shoulder, “you alright?”
I pushed up the corners of my mouth and nodded, “yeah, I’m… I’ll be fine.  This whole ‘reciprocated feelings’ thing is just a bit of a new sensation, y’know?”
The floor swayed slightly as whatever clamps where in place on the outside of the Piti were removed.
What followed was something that only a select few humans had ever experienced before.
The artificial gravity was deactivated.
“Oh, this is a fairly profound sensation,” Julie exclaimed as we lost the ability to discern up from down.
Our bodies had left the ground which seemed to have floated a few inches away.
I straightened my legs, pushing myself cautiously towards the ceiling with which I collided with a soft bump.
I looked across at Phoebe and Julie who were having their own fun.
Phoebe was doing contactless cartwheels whilst Julie was pushing herself from one surface to another.  Just a couple of women in their late twenties at play, in space.
The three of us were the only occupants of the cargo bay, the others having gone on into the ship itself.
Evidently the ship had started moving, as we all started to drift towards the rear.
Orthus’s voice came over a hidden tannoy system.
“Please could everybody make their way to the seating area in the middeck of the ship to prepare for our FTL flight.”
Phoebe’s eyes lit up as though it were Christmas and she propelled herself towards the ramp that ran to the next level.
Julie had to keep herself from snorting as Phoebe collided with the ceiling, mildly cursing as she grabbed hold of an edge and swung herself through the gap.
I gave Julie a look that told her not to start.
She raised her hands in feigned innocence and moved off after her.
I pushed myself off of the roof, using my energy to stop myself in the centre of the room.  With little difficulty, I found that I was able to maneuver around with ease, although there was a certain amount of attention to be paid as I came close to objects and surfaces.
I hovered along the ramp, through to the next level.
The cargo bay had been the same white aesthetics as the Screnac, however the decor in the passenger area was very different.
It maintained the smooth sweeps and shapes as before, however there were more of them and so much colour that it made my vision swim to behold them.  Five days on a ship that was little other than white had gotten me used to the brighter end of the spectrum.  In contrast, the Piti seemed very dark.  The whole place looked as though it were made of wood, however it were soft to the touch, similar to the texture of a stress ball.  About a third of the way up the wall, the wood pattern turned to leaves of every colour you could possibly imagine, yet instead of looking mishmashed or garish, they flowed subtly into one another completely naturally.  Here and there were gaps of blue sky, it was these gaps that lit the room, making it seem as though sunlight were breaking through the branches.
The room was designed to seat and sleep up to forty beings.
There were forty seats arranged along benches and around a table, all of which had the same wood pattern, until you tapped three times to open a console, at which time the top surface became white.  The seats were knee height with one wide stalk.  They were a fairly average shape and size, the backs were wide and high with arm rests that gave a wide birth to their occupant yet adjustable.
At the rear of the room were four rows of bunk beds five long, each with screens that could be pulled down on each side for privacy.
On one side of these were four hygiene cubicles that you had to go down a side corridor to get into.. They blended into the rest of the décor so that they were quite unnoticeable until someone pointed out the passage.
A large cylinder with many small doors on it that acted as food storage and distribution stood between the seats and beds.
Another ramp led to another floor where the flight deck could be found.
As with the Screnac, there were no windows.
Twenty-six people floated around the space, all chatting excitedly. All of them very noticeably tried not to turn and look at me as I drifted into the room, although, inevitably, they all took the right moment to acknowledge and nod at me.
Suppressing the urge to fu (a Japanese term for the noise that comes from expelling air through your nose or mouth in a noticeable way), I dipped my head to acknowledge them.  I made my way over to where Phoebe was talking with Jim, two cousins from my mum’s side of the family, Felix and Vernon, and my aunt Poppy, my dad’s older sister.  Bernard, a colleague from my days at the cinema, drifted over to us.  I was the only person he knew at all from the collective that was journeying with us, so I took a moment to introduce him to the small group.
We all idly chatted for a bit, I pointed out everyone that I knew the name of and how I knew the people whose names eluded me, such as a customer from the cinema and a local police officer.
The noise died quickly down as Deia floated down from the flight deck.
Not everyone had met her yet, or even seen races other that the tharat.
I moved swiftly towards her, before panic over the appearance of a snake could set in.
“Doctor,” I addressed her in the way that would help the others understand.
“Laura, hello,” she smiled upon seeing me, “would you care to introduce me?  I know that my appearance may have unnerved a few of your companions.  They may call me Deia.”
“Of course,” I turned back to the room, “this is Deia, she’s a doctor, um, she helped me to control my telekinesis.”
I could feel the room starting to relax.
Jim spoke first, “Pleasure to meet you.”  He bowed his head a little to show respect.
“Likewise,” she seemed pleased that someone had responded, “there will be time for proper introductions once we are have reached Kenglowe, however, for now, can I ask you all to take a seat.”
The seats were mostly arranged in tens, so the groups we were talking in generally sat (or held themselves into a chair) together.
“If you would all call up your consoles on the area in front of you, there is a button that will activate your safety restraints.  These will keep you safe during our FTL flight.”
Looks were exchanged, one person to the next.
Sighing loudly, I leant forwards, discovering the chair’s ability to lean and swivel.
Tapping the surface three times illuminated a screen, bigger than the one that I had accessed in my pod.  There was a clearly marked button for the space-worthy seat belts.
Everyone was watching me intently.
I looked around at the expectant faces, raised my eyebrows, took a sharp breath and pressed the button.
My chair tilted slowly backwards until is was leaning back at a forty-five degree angle.
The material of the chair began to stretch around me; encasing my shoulders, wrapping the sides of head, sealing my thighs, knees and ankles, the space under my hands seemed to take on the consistency corn flour mixed with water, soft then hard when I squeezed, the tops of my hands were covered with more of the same material.
Once the process had finished, I relaxed, only then realizing how close I had been to freaking out.
I began to laugh, “it’s okay,” I told everyone, “it’s kinda comfy actually.”
Being in unable to move my head to look around, I had to settle what was in front of me.  If I strained my eyes downwards enough, I could just about make out the movements of the people opposite me.  Yet I could feel the room relax a little, enough for the others to activate their own.
Suppressed squeaks, muffled grunts and nervous laughter filled the air as everyone became secured.
Once everyone was locked in, Deia spoke, “as odd as these restraints appear, the effects of FTL flight, that’s faster than light, are rather oppressive, they are in place to avoid injury.  You will feel as though you are being crushed from every possible angle.  This sensation is false.  The inertial dampers on this vessel will keep the GeForce from actually having an impact on you, so during the flight, I encourage you to train yourselves to ignore these false sensations.  Above all, you will feel as though you can’t breathe.  You can and will be able to, but you will have to force yourselves to do so.”
She settled into one of the seats herself and must have used her telekinesis to tap the button, as her chair began to tilt backwards.  She wove her body to and fro along the back and seat of the chair, the material covering each area of her body that was bent. 
“Is everybody ready?” Orthus’s voice spoke out of nowhere again.
A chorus of “yep” and “as we’re ever gonna be”s rippled around the room.
“Okay, engaging FTL drive,” the entire ship started to hum.
“Activating inertial dampers,” the air around us seemed to tingle.
“Jumping to faster than light travel in 3, 2, 1.”

To explain the sensation of travelling at faster than light speeds, I would compare it  to being submerged underwater.  The pressure of the water was light near the surface, if you went deeper, it began to get heavier.  It tended to effect your head most noticeably first, then your lungs, the rest of your insides and then every inch of your skin. 
FTL felt as though you had suddenly been dropped in the deepest pit of the ocean without being eased in to it, it did not feel as though you would survive.  In water you would not.
Despite the fact that my ears felt as though they had been filled with lead, I could still hear perfectly.  On every side, I could hear moans and gasps as people began trying to breathe.
I parted my lips, which moved with the ease that they usually did and not the slowly forced motion that the sensations were suggesting would be the case.  Taking a breath in felt entirely unnatural, I entirely expected there not be any oxygen.  Imagine forcing yourself to take a breath underwater.  It took a lot of effort.
“Breathe!” Deia cried out, “I know it feels unnatural, but you will be able to.  We have another seven lals before we drop out, so you need to force yourself to breathe!”
A few more gasps erupted around the room.
I flexed my fingers a little, moving gently against the softened material beneath them.  As with everything other part of me, I was able to move them freely despite feeling as though they had been trapped on every side in one of those forceful hand-dryers that literally pushed the skin into the shape of the nozzle that the air was coming from.
For the remainder of the seven lals, I simply allowed myself to explore the sensation.  I am fairly certain that, without the restraints, I would have been able to move about the room with ease, albeit a generous dose of discomfort.
My usual motion sickness did not rear its head at all.
Then we dropped out.
As the ship resumed natural speeds, so did my stomach, and the stomachs of most of the others.
The restraints were released, the chairs becoming the simple shapes they had been before.
Three people dove towards the hygiene cubicles, yet were quickly reminded what would happen if they released the contents of their stomachs in zero gravity by Deia who had gone straight to the large cylinder and, opening one of the compartments, brought out a few objects that looked like the mouthpieces you got from using gas and air, attached to a green bag.
Those that needed to use them, quickly learnt how the gentle suction acted in reaction to their heaves, directing the contents of their previous meal into the bag without any spillages.
These were then disposed of down a hatch which opened in the wall.
I managed to keep the contents of my stomach to myself, years of practice aided me, as, when I was a teenager I used to have little control over my stomach due to stress.  In the end, I got so frustrated and disgusted with it, that I forced myself to keep it down.  In the past eleven or so years, the only times that I have lost control were either alcohol induced or a particularly nasty stomach bug that was unwittingly bestowed upon me by Sylvia’s son, Elia when he was less than a year old, more than three years ago.
“That was intense,” Julie floated past my elbow, seemingly unaffected.  Many should be envious of her as, during our college years, she would be the one drinking from the start of the night until the following morning, with no discomfort to her stomach and only a slight headache to show for it.
Deia drifted towards me, maintaining a smooth movement that the others were definitely lacking.  “How are you feeling, is there any change in your connection with the others?”
I felt inwardly and realized that the energy was just as strong as before.  “I feel the same, all of the emotions are still there, is that normal?”
“It’s hard to say,” she clocked her head a little, “there is no president for the energy that is connected with you.  We will be learning as we go, I’m afraid.”
I nodded, a gesture that felt a bit less natural in zero gravity.
“I can make a few educated guesses,” she continued, “if you wouldn’t mind hearing my theory for the time being?”
I pulled my mouth into an interested smile, “I would value your input.”
“Well,” she spoke quickly and to the point, “I believe that your connections may exist in a similar way as wormhole.  The kinetic energy that is transferred to you via those connections creates a shortcut through an unseen dimension of space in a matter of nanoseconds.  This could mean that you will regenerate the energy at the same rate after using it, no matter how far away you are from any other human.  It may also mean that you can use those connections as a locater.  That is, in theory at least.”
“I see,” which I only sort of did at the time.  Twice only had I actually picked up on the individual emotions of others; when Phillip’s love had woken me and then when Chasity’s anger had infiltrated my own.  I cannot say that I was aware of the specific direction that those feelings had come from, however it had not been something that I had even thought of to notice in the moment.  “I’m curious to find out, will that be something that I can learn on Kenglowe?”
“It is possible, the alive have sensors in the nanotechnology that they use for their telekinesis and, using certain search parameters, they can use it to locate things or beings.  There may be some cross over with your ability that we can use to learn.”
“So, are we there, have we reached Kenglowe now?” Owen Crawford drifted over.  We had gone to the same primary school, he was a year older and had incidentally wound up being Julie’s best friend from when they worked their first part-time job together.  Naturally, Julie floated over after him.
Deia turned to answer him, “not yet, we have reached this sector’s Hylanx.”