For the first half hour or so as he explored the ship, Bucky managed to keep to himself. He avoided corridors where others were gathering, stuck to the back halls and damaged areas. He wanted to find every bolt hole and escape route he could so he'd stop feeling so trapped in this maze of a ship.

In the end, though, he couldn't quite make himself ignore the desperate plight of the ship and its people. When he came across a green-skinned woman desperately trying to free herself from beneath a fallen girder, he used his inhuman strength and the metal arm to haul it off her. From there it was a short step to prying open a damaged door that had trapped three of the crew in their quarters.

He kept his head down, his eyes averted, and said very little when spoken to, but he kept working diligently. At least for once he was helping people, not hurting them.

Then he heard something tantalizingly familiar, coming from around the curve of a corridor. A voice. A woman's voice. It teased at the edges of his shattered memories, causing a few new fragments to drift to the surface of his mind.

He knew her. He wasn't sure how yet, or who she was, but he knew her. How could that be possible, in this place? Warily, Bucky crept along the corridor, trying to get a better look without drawing notice.

When he saw her, he got another jolt of memories, and his hand itched for his journal. He'd have to start a new one, as soon as possible. She was familiar. Every time he blinked he kept expecting to see her suddenly wearing an Army uniform. How could he possibly know someone here?

He trailed her for a while, using as much cover as the damaged corridors provided to stay hidden while he observed.