none knew better than she the intricate passageways that mazed through the interior like an Azarian jelly insect with its dozens of thin, tentacles.
Hence, she was the logical choice for laying claim to the prize. All she had to do was place her bio-signature marker on the command centre door, which would effectively eliminate any signals the ship still emitted and hope like hell no Darkon Patrollers were in the vicinity.
The Darkons didn’t take kindly to another race laying claim to one of their ships. If caught, it would be a good ten or so cycles before any salvager saw the light of day.
Red and green dust sparkled like tiny gems over the flyer’s hull as it zipped through the space-cloud and approached that dark shape. Forward beams flicked on, painting the damaged ship with amber light and spooky shadows as the flyer flew closer. The hairs on her arms covered by her bulky flight suit sizzled and gritting her teeth, Janni set her sights on a small docking station under the starboard section.
It only took a matter of minutes and the flyer was berthed, and its clamps were securely attached to the short runway. Another quick systems check, this time on her flight suit and she exited her small ship.
No sounds filtered through her helmet. It was deathly quiet, like the graveyard where Janni had spent a night with a bunch of her fellow teenage friends, long ago. A remnant of her other life, but the eerie, heavy atmosphere that had hung over the cold tombstones then was the same as the dank sensation that sank into her bones now as she opened a hatch and stepped over the hob.
The door whined shut, a rusty, scraping noise that set her teeth on edge, and she secured it tightly before turning round. As if she had been a catalyst, lights flared revealing a scarred passageway that ended at the base of a stairwell and a line of chutes. Now, that was creepy .
“Girl, what is taking so long?” Bansell’s tinny voice startled her, making her jump and realise she had been standing, as if frozen for several minutes. White noise crackled through the comms drowning out the remainder of his words.
“I’m inside and heading for the command centre,” she said. Bansell did not respond. There was interference on the line, but from what? Just do the job and get the hell out of here .
Not keen to trust the operating system of the chutes, she climbed the remains of a twisted stairwell and emerged on the main level. She set off in a jog along a well-lit passageway. The noise of her heavily booted feet clanged loudly in the ominous silence. Her breathing heaved in and out, a sure sign of her stressed state, sucking in more oxygen than necessary. Get a grip. Surely you’re not afraid of the bogeyman in the shadows . Janni shook her head, as if refuting the jeering voice in her mind, burying the scared child who huddled inside and tormented her sleep with nightmares of this new alien life she now lived. I’m a survivor. Compared to what I have seen, what I have done, this is nothing .
Time to check the stats and concentrate on the job. The data continually scrolling down to the left of her visor revealed the ship retained full operating power and all vital life support systems were intact. Atmosphere read at normal levels albeit the temperature was a lot higher than the norm for a Darkon ship; still, perfect for human survival. How odd . Where was the crew then? Why had they abandoned the ship?
Janni quickened her pace, her heart rate increased and beads of sweat formed on her body making her feel she was boiling alive inside the heavy body suit she wore over her short tunic and trousers.
That’s it! I can’t stand it any longer . She paused and peeled off the sticky suit, ridding herself of her helmet too, she tossed the items aside where they huddled like discarded skins on the floor. They would be easy enough for her to retrieve on her return to the flyer. Besides she could move faster without all that bulk weighing her down.
Hence, she was the logical choice for laying claim to the prize. All she had to do was place her bio-signature marker on the command centre door, which would effectively eliminate any signals the ship still emitted and hope like hell no Darkon Patrollers were in the vicinity.
The Darkons didn’t take kindly to another race laying claim to one of their ships. If caught, it would be a good ten or so cycles before any salvager saw the light of day.
Red and green dust sparkled like tiny gems over the flyer’s hull as it zipped through the space-cloud and approached that dark shape. Forward beams flicked on, painting the damaged ship with amber light and spooky shadows as the flyer flew closer. The hairs on her arms covered by her bulky flight suit sizzled and gritting her teeth, Janni set her sights on a small docking station under the starboard section.
It only took a matter of minutes and the flyer was berthed, and its clamps were securely attached to the short runway. Another quick systems check, this time on her flight suit and she exited her small ship.
No sounds filtered through her helmet. It was deathly quiet, like the graveyard where Janni had spent a night with a bunch of her fellow teenage friends, long ago. A remnant of her other life, but the eerie, heavy atmosphere that had hung over the cold tombstones then was the same as the dank sensation that sank into her bones now as she opened a hatch and stepped over the hob.
The door whined shut, a rusty, scraping noise that set her teeth on edge, and she secured it tightly before turning round. As if she had been a catalyst, lights flared revealing a scarred passageway that ended at the base of a stairwell and a line of chutes. Now, that was creepy .
“Girl, what is taking so long?” Bansell’s tinny voice startled her, making her jump and realise she had been standing, as if frozen for several minutes. White noise crackled through the comms drowning out the remainder of his words.
“I’m inside and heading for the command centre,” she said. Bansell did not respond. There was interference on the line, but from what? Just do the job and get the hell out of here .
Not keen to trust the operating system of the chutes, she climbed the remains of a twisted stairwell and emerged on the main level. She set off in a jog along a well-lit passageway. The noise of her heavily booted feet clanged loudly in the ominous silence. Her breathing heaved in and out, a sure sign of her stressed state, sucking in more oxygen than necessary. Get a grip. Surely you’re not afraid of the bogeyman in the shadows . Janni shook her head, as if refuting the jeering voice in her mind, burying the scared child who huddled inside and tormented her sleep with nightmares of this new alien life she now lived. I’m a survivor. Compared to what I have seen, what I have done, this is nothing .
Time to check the stats and concentrate on the job. The data continually scrolling down to the left of her visor revealed the ship retained full operating power and all vital life support systems were intact. Atmosphere read at normal levels albeit the temperature was a lot higher than the norm for a Darkon ship; still, perfect for human survival. How odd . Where was the crew then? Why had they abandoned the ship?
Janni quickened her pace, her heart rate increased and beads of sweat formed on her body making her feel she was boiling alive inside the heavy body suit she wore over her short tunic and trousers.
That’s it! I can’t stand it any longer . She paused and peeled off the sticky suit, ridding herself of her helmet too, she tossed the items aside where they huddled like discarded skins on the floor. They would be easy enough for her to retrieve on her return to the flyer. Besides she could move faster without all that bulk weighing her down.
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