ACT 1 – DISCOVERY
Chapter 15 – #13 Drifter
Halling considered the current ship time on the tactical display table. He'd noted exactly when Teyla had retired to sleep. She'd looked completely exhausted when she'd finally left Central Station, clearly requiring a full 'night's' worth of sleep, so if she reappeared in anything less than six hours, he was ready to intercept her. She wasn't due back on rotation for the rest of the day, scheduled for the nightshift again, so he was quite prepared to force matters with her.
She had done the same for him plenty of times in the past.
Halling switched his attention from the Sythus' clock to the two countdowns displayed alongside it. Nalla and the others aboard the Transport Craft were still en route to the asteroid field, not due to arrive there until tomorrow, so that countdown remained quite high; however, the countdown for The Valse and its half of the Hunt Fleet to drop out of hyperspace at the next drifting derelict was almost at zero.
And during the four hours that trip had taken, there had been no further detections of any Hives within range of the Sensor Platform Ship's advanced sensors.
Given the Hives' angle of departure away into Wraith-held space, the sensor silence did tentatively suggest that the Hives at the gathering had been unaware of the Hunt Fleet. Which implied they had had no advanced sensors, if the Skerti even had such sensors.
So it was very possible it had just been a simple, though unexpectedly timed, gathering of Wraith-held Hives.
Which meant that the Hunt mission could continue.
Still, there was still time to watch the sensors while The Valse and it's half of the Hunt Fleet investigated the latest derelict, #13 drifter. Those extra hours would give them a little longer to watch the sensors just in case.
He glanced across the various sensor displays and then over the running updates on the Sythus' standard daily operations. Everything here was running perfectly.
He ran his eyes back to The Valse's countdown. It was almost time…
Two seconds…
One second…
"The Valse half should have reached its destination," he announced for Si and Jobrill, the two having been working on compiling the official report on the Hive gathering for delivery to the Elite and Alliance Military once this mission was over.
Si stepped up to the far side of the tactical display table and reached across to tap a section of the large display tabletop currently dedicated to communicating with the Sensor Platform Ship, forcing an immediate update. Which produced no change at all. "Nothing new on any Hives," he reported for all to hear.
"Honoured Elite," a technician reported from across Central Station. "Incoming audio link from The Valse."
Ah good, right on time.
Halling reached for the link control and tapped it open. "Sythus here, Valse. You made excellent predicted time."
"Indeed," Commander Ara replied. "But that is not the purpose of this link. We have found something unusual about #13 drifter."
Halling paused, not having expected that.
Finally something useful?
"It's not a Salvager ship," Ara continued. "It's a Traveller ship."
Halling met Si' frown across the table. "The Generational Ship reported missing?"
"No, far smaller. From the initial looks of it, it's one of their ship-to-surface vessels for supply runs."
"A small ship like that so far out here?" Jobrill frowned. "It could have come from the missing Generational Ship."
"Possibly," Halling nodded. "Or it had been acquired by the Salvagers at some point."
"What state is it in, Commander Ara?" Si asked into the air.
"Initial scans and visual inspection suggest the hull is intact, but there are heavy scorch-marks on the stern and down towards the nose of the vessel. Also a section in the port-side forward hull shows some crumpling indicative of a collision. There is a back hatch, which is closed, but a small side hatchway is open."
"The same scorch-marks as on the Salvager ships?" Si asked.
"Difficult to say, this ship was better maintained than the Salvager's ships. It could be a darker scorch-mark, but as the Salvagers clearly never cleaned the outer hulls of their ships, it's difficult to assess from here."
Halling dropped his gaze to the still blank sensor readings from the Sensor Platform Ship. He looked round to Jobrill who nodded at him, seemingly have read his mind. He looked to Si. "I suggest we combine the Hunt Fleet, investigate the Traveller ship together, use the Sensor Platform to run detailed analysis."
Si nodded.
It was long past time to reunite both halves of the Hunt Fleet, especially after the tense long wait watching the Hives' gathering. Out here, with no backup of any kind, splitting the Fleet had been efficient to investigate the derelicts initially, but now it was more strategic to bring the Fleet back into full strength. There drifters were too far apart now and it was still possible that those Hives could abruptly drop out of hyperspace.
"Commander Ara," Halling said up towards the audio pickup, "Hold position, we are bringing our half of the Fleet to you, and we'll investigate the Traveller ship together."
"Yes, Honoured Elite," she replied. "We'll run full outer hull analysis and we have detected more than one drifter in position #14 ahead. We'll gather all scan data we can while we await your arrival."
Halling almost smiled at the edge of reluctance in her voice. "Thank you, Commander," he offered her. "We will see you in two hours."
He reached across and closed the link, seeing Jobrill was already running the hyperspace flight calculations and Si was already in communication with the rest of their half of the Fleet.
Given how efficiently looted of anything useful all the previous drifters had been, it was perhaps weak hope that something more useful would be found in the Traveller ship. Still, as their technology was different to the Salvagers, perhaps there was a chance that something had been missed.
Even if it was just one tiny clue as to what had happened to this line of abandoned dead ships.
0000
Seeal considered the different Canteen around her. She'd not eaten in this particular Facility Canteen before, always preferring the usual larger one closer to the habitation sector, which clearly Oneakka and Massa also preferred.
This Canteen was smaller and set on a different orientation, which had thrown her off the first few times she'd looked up from her food, expecting to see the door off to the right, but in here it was a smaller door off to the left. There was far more foot-traffic through this Canteen too, everything clearly designed for quick collection of food by staff on duty. Instead of large bowls and tubs of food from which to serve your own helpings as in the other Canteen, this one had everything prepared for you. Meals were already prepped in transparent covered bowls and plates, ready for staff to just grab and leave, or choose to eat at the tables. Even the drinks were in prefilled covered cups in two different sizes, the names of the drinks written on the sides.
She hadn't remembered the full name of her favourite Athosian tea in Alliance Standard, but as she'd been able to read 'Athosian' on the three varieties available, the simple sniff test had located it for her. For Midday Meal, she'd picked a bowl with a prepared salad and two tasty pastries with a nice spicy filling sealed inside. She'd not seen these in the other Canteen, so she guessed they were designed to be easier for people to eat by hand while at their duty stations.
She'd keep that in mind for future meals, but today she and Amel had camped out on one of the larger tables available as they worked on the Project research. They'd been here for hours, having read through various journal articles and detailed specs on the suggested different approaches to the new computer's hardware.
Amel had been really enjoyable company too. She was enthusiastic about everything, bubbling excitedly about the research, though had repeatedly knocked several of her many electronic pads off the table. Playing 'catch the pad' had become a new game for Seeal as the morning had progressed and she was winning with ten catches to two misses so far.
As different as the Canteen and the full morning of joint working was, Seeal was really rather enjoying her day so far. Plus, it was nice to have good female company again and she rather enjoyed Amel's ability to shift from technical work-related conversation to more casual chat and quickly back again. The random conversation changes was something Seeal tried not to do with Oneakka and Massa too often, the two seeming less able, or willing, to keep switching conversation paths as quickly as her and Amel.
Amel had also been very interested in yesterday evening's experiment, seeming just as interested in the science side as how the lab had been set out and what the scientists had been like. So, Seeal had detailed the lab, its occupants and then the process, describing all the wires that had been attached to her hands and arms, and the elaborate skullcap of sensors and wires they'd asked her to wear throughout the experiment.
It had been a simple enough experiment, with one of the scientists setting small identical metal rods in front of her, one at a time, for her to pick up and describe how she perceived the temperature of the rod. The amusing part of it all had been the massive pair of protective gloves the scientist handling the rods had been wearing, which had clearly not always been necessary given the range of temperatures the rods had been. Though, as the rods had grown colder, the gloves had clearly been important, as there had been noticeable frost on the last ones presented to her.
The scientists hadn't told her anything they'd detected yet, as apparently her knowing anything might skew the results and there was still one more practical experiment she'd agreed to in a few days. That one would involve her sitting in a temperature controlled room while she took some simple tests to monitor her mental focus at different temperatures. That sounded a little more interesting for her than all the metal bar picking up of yesterday, still it was something new and she had gotten curious at the little expressions from some of the scientists which told her that they had some good data.
She'd never really thought about how she could withstand cold better than most, since on the Glisi world the temperature could be fatally cold, so she'd spent her early life wrapped in giant coats and trousers. It was only when she'd been living on the streets on other worlds that she'd realised she and Ulfur could cope with the cold far more than the other children. Oneakka had made a few comments too that suggested he'd noticed her tolerance too, seemingly almost impressed, and the scientists had clearly gotten excited about her 'skills'. Of course, that could mean anything really.
Still, she was rather looking forward to the final results. She'd already had one report the other week that was a genetic analysis of her blood, and apparently they had been able to explain why she was a shorter Glisi than usual. She'd not bothered to read any of the complicated jargon after that because, well, of course there was going to be a genetic explanation; she was a mutant Glisi clearly, some mistake in her genetics or maybe she was even a throwback from the days before the Glisi had evolved to be so big.
But the cold tolerance tests were more interesting.
Movement across the Canteen caught her attention and she watched a large group entering, all of them quickly collecting up bowls of prepped food. A shift change.
She watched them all vaguely out of interest. She hadn't been a Security Lead for awhile now, but she couldn't really stop herself from watching people. Besides, it was interesting, and Amel was finishing off the latest study article, which Seeal had already read yesterday after the experiment. She'd been a little too awake to fall right to sleep, so she'd gotten in some reading.
A familiar face among the rushing staff entered the Canteen. Edfu's excessive cheerfulness and charm was immediately on display as he smiled at everyone he passed.
Seeal shook her head as she shifted her attention to Amel. "And suddenly the real reason why you wanted to use this Canteen becomes all too clear."
Amel looked up from her electronic pad with a frown.
Seeal indicated where the overtly symmetrical features of Edfu were moving around the room, nodding and smiling at everyone. The male clearly knew everyone in the Facility by name and they all knew him. Edfu's choice of Security Lead approach had never been hers, but she could see the value. Edfu had ingratiated himself with everyone, being approachable and friendly, and therefore well placed to spot anything that changed in the Facility.
Amel looked round over her shoulder towards where Edfu was now stood talking with someone. "Oh, Edfu uses this Canteen?" Amel said with entirely unconvincing surprise.
Seeal gave her a look.
Only to see that Edfu had turned and was looking this way now, and he lifted a hand as he smiled. As there was no other table behind her and Amel's, Seeal was pretty certain the greeting was directed towards her. She lifted a hand back to Edfu and he smiled wider before his attention was drawn on to someone else.
"See, handsome eyebrows," Amel leaned forward conspiratorially over the table. "You promise you haven't got your eye on them?"
"On his eyebrows?" Seeal chuckled. Despite Amel's impressive resistance to her Ridd-Ellman people's strange obsession, she clearly still had an intense interest in eyebrows. "No, you can have them and the rest of him," Seeal assured her.
"Okay," Amel smiled before she glanced furtively over her shoulder towards Edfu again. "How well do you know him?"
"Not all that well, but he talks to anyone. Clearly," Seeal indicated the male's overtly gregarious behaviour as he was now waving to people as he crossed to a table and started laughing with the mature male sat there. "Just go and say hello to him."
"I'm sure he has a female or two already," Amel glanced to Seeal and then back over to Edfu. "Looking like that."
Seeal knew that was far from an obvious fact with handsome men; Oneakka alone proved as much. He had no female, as apparently his casual thing with Pampata was over, and he was a big heroic muscular male. So, looks didn't necessarily mean anything in her opinion.
Plus, she just wasn't all that keen on Edfu's excessively smooth and highly primped look.
"Are your new sandals still comfortable?" Amel asked, jumping subject matter.
"They are," Seeal replied as she wiggled her toes inside the comfortable bands of one of her new pairs of sandals from Bakhau. She felt a little strange not wearing boots, but she'd seen people wear all sorts of footwear in the Facility when they weren't on duty, so she'd decided to try something different now she wasn't a Security Lead. Besides, it wasn't like her toes would get cold.
"I think I should get some new shoes," Amel considered. "And some things to decorate my quarters here. They are so small and drab; they need some colour. What do you have in your quarters?"
Seeal wasn't sure she'd even thought about decorating her quarters before. "I bought a nice blue blanket on Bakhau yesterday; I've put that on my bed. I have a potted plant too."
"Really?" Amel asked brightly. "But there are no windows here."
"I have a grow light thing Neligan gave me," she explained.
"Neligan is…?" Amel asked with interest.
"He helps look after the goats," Seeal explained. "He's one of the main Hydroponics scientists. He repotted the plant for me and gave me a little light that sits above it, glows down over the plant during day hours."
"A plant," Amel considered. "That's a good idea. Something living in your quarters, I like it. Did you get the plant from the Hydroponics Bay too?"
"No, I purchased it from a marketing station." She didn't add that buying the plant at the time had actually been a distraction technique to help her look innocent before she had activated her hidden backdoor code into Saoka's computer systems. She'd kept her promise to the Elite not to use that backdoor hack, but she had to wonder if Saoka had actually gone through the trouble of entirely replacing all the station's computer hard drives to try and clean out her old hack. It would be a massive and expensive job, but he had the resources and currency to do it.
"Which marketing station?" Amel asked.
"The massive public one run by the Trader entrepreneur Saoka?"
"I've heard of it, but I've never visited. Perhaps we could go together?" Amel suggested excitedly. "Do they sell things like pictures, cushions, other things I could purchase for my quarters?"
"There's everything there," Seeal confirmed. Though she didn't mention that 'everything' also included things like the 'companionship' business her fellow Dreamstation survivor, Jantina, ran for Saoka on the station. "Actually, I was planning to visit the station soon as there's a metalworker there I've been recommended to repair an old necklace of mine."
"Shall we go together?" Amel asked.
"We've got tomorrow as another research day now," Seeal realised, the Project Lead having contacted all of the team to extend the 'research' days before their presentations. Seeal guessed someone on the project had complained about how much there was to study first, perhaps it had even been Angry Tech, but Seeal wasn't complaining. "How about we visit the station tomorrow morning?" Seeal suggested.
"Great idea," Amel grinned. "Then we can just finish off our work in the afternoon. Here's hoping…what do you call that annoying male on the team again?"
"Angry Tech," Seeal smiled.
"Here's hoping his recommendation presentation matches ours, he'd be so cross."
Seeal chuckled as she saw her personal electronic pad light up with a message. "I'd be surprised if he and l think that much alike," she lifted the pad. The screen showed she had a text link from Massa marked urgent. She quickly tapped into it.
Warning: Oneakka failed his medical review.
She blinked in surprise.
He is not happy.
Well no! He failed it? She quickly lifted the pad closer so she could type a fast reply, asking Massa if he was with Oneakka now.
Just left him. I have a class to teach. He's in the Hydroponics Bay with the goats.
Seeal quickly set about tidying up her tray. "I'm sorry, Amel, I've got to go see someone. They've had some bad news."
"Oh no," Amel frowned up at her. "Are they okay?"
"Hopefully he is," Seeal quickly picked up her tea and gulped down the last of it.
"Don't worry about your tray, I'll clear it away with mine," Amel offered.
"Thank you, Amel," Seeal picked up her other research pad she'd brought with her, sliding into her other back pocket, her main paid in the other. "I'll contact you later."
"We'll just finish the reading separately and we'll chat it through tomorrow," Amel suggested and Seeal nodded gratefully. "Just text link me what time to meet you tomorrow morning for the trip to the marketing station."
"I will," Seeal promised as she started backing away from the table.
Amel smiled and waved her away. "Go, go."
Seeal turned and started hurriedly walking across the Canteen towards the exit. Only, as she was passing near where Edfu was doing his social rounds, she saw him notice her. She redirected her path towards him.
The bright overly-perfectly toothed smile greeted her. "Good day, Seeal," he said.
"Hi Edfu," she smiled back. "I'm not sure if you've met my friend, Amel?" She pointed back towards where Amel was focused on her research reading. "She's only recently been assigned here and doesn't know many people…"
As she'd expected, Edfu took this as an eager mission. "I shall go introduce myself now."
"Great," Seeal grinned. "I've got to go get to someone…" She backed away towards the exit.
Edfu nodded with a smile and then slid his attention off towards Amel.
Refocusing back her own mission, Seeal headed quickly out of the Canteen, pausing briefly to reorient herself with where this Canteen was in the Facility, and then set off in the direction that would be the quickest route to the Hydroponics Bay.
Oneakka was going to be so unhappy!
As she walked she typed a quick text link to Massa telling him she was on her way to Oneakka now.
He's not good company, Massa sent back almost immediately.
She smiled at what was clearly a major understatement.
She predicted Oneakka was likely going to be in one of his seething sulks, embarrassed and angry at himself at what he would see as a failure. He'd been so confident in the outcome of the medical review, so cheerful of late about it, she felt especially bad for him.
Not that she wasn't actually rather pleased. He looked so well now, didn't limp or tire out like he'd used to do, but she'd seen the little signs that he wasn't fully recovered yet; the little hitch in his middle when he reached down for something or had to move quickly. She'd just assumed that the Elite powers in charge would want him back sparring and fighting monsters as soon as possible so would ignore all that, but it seemed that they took recovery more seriously than she'd given them credit.
Not that Oneakka was going to appreciate that fact right now.
She reached the Hydroponics Bay a lot faster from Amel's canteen choice and she headed quickly along the familiar route in the Bay, past fields and through the small forest of trees, and emerged out to see the grassy slope up off to the right. At the top stood the goats' new enlarged enclosure, and she could already see Oneakka stood by the fence holding something. Belka was stood near him, as she nearly always was when Oneakka visited the Bay, and the goatlings were scattered around the grass.
As Seeal started up the slope, the goatlings spotted her and all started racing down towards her, Splodge taking the lead. The goatlings rushed down the slope towards Seeal in a way that always looked worryingly fast and likely to end in a sliding collision; however, as always, the goatlings' braking systems were amazing and she wasn't taken out by multiple goats to the shins. Instead, the mass of overly excited goatlings raced around her ankles, soft feet bashing against her legs as they jumped up in delight, though Splodge had stopped right in front of her, expecting her full on attention. Seeal lovingly gave it to her new pet, scratching around Splodges ears, though had to break off to rub other goatling backs as Splodge's siblings barged in for some attention too. Then, as quickly as it had started, the goatlings lost interest and were racing away again.
Moving on from the mass-greeting, the goatlings running massive loops around her as they chased and bounced off each other, Seeal focused her attention on Oneakka at the top of the incline. Closer now, she could see that he was washing out one of Belka's feed buckets, using the water hose to pressure wash off stuck bits inside. She imagined he probably needed a task to focus on right now, something to distract him and help him feel more capable.
As she crested the main rise, she saw him glance round, registering her arrival. She saw the flash of what looked like surprise and an all too large dose of self-consciousness before he quickly looked back down to the feed bucket. Stood in profile to her approach, she could see that his shoulders were bunched up more than was necessary to wash the bucket. A bucket he was really focused on cleaning. She suspected he was not tolerating even the tiniest bit of stuck grass or smear inside the bucket. No, it would be perfectly clean when he was done with it.
Looking at him now, you'd never know the near-fatal injury he'd sustained. But it was burned into her mind's eye for life. She'd never forget the horror of finding him bleeding out on that Hive floor, of having to leave him to go save Halling on his behalf, then racing back unsure if he'd still be alive.
Then the long minutes that had felt like hours when she and Halling had sat in the pool of his blood, holding his unconscious body, waiting for help to arrive.
Then the even longer hours sat at his bedside, watching his vital readings dropping…
She forcefully pushed away the emotionally raw memories. That was all in the past now.
Now he was healing, not quite as much as he wanted, but he was clearly doing really well. It was just that he'd wanted to get back to his work, to feel strong and capable again no doubt, and she could understand that.
Disappointment was an old acquaintance of hers, so she knew its bitter hard taste all too well.
As she neared Oneakka – his shoulder still decidedly turned to her - Belka padded up for some attention. Seeal paused to rub the mamma goat's head and then scratch under her chin. The goatlings had caught up and were now bouncing around Belka for her attention.
Moving on again across the final distance to Oneakka, Seeal could see the hard set of his jaw and an obvious flush to his pale complexion.
As she stopped what felt like a polite distance from him, she realised she had no idea what to say. Normally speaking her mind was never a problem, but that had gotten them into fights in the past when Oneakka's ego was bruised. When he felt frustrated he could get snappy and take things the wrong way, and she kind of felt like she was now stood at the edge of a minefield of 'wrong things to say'.
The male was clearly uncomfortable and unhappy, and she didn't want to add to that burden right now. She wanted to help make things better for him…she just had no idea how to go about that right now. After all, being honest would be saying that she thought it was a good thing that he'd failed the review.
That wouldn't be well received.
"I know what you're going to say," Oneakka stated though before she could even open her mouth, his voice hard and a little loud over the spraying rush of the water hose.
She was glad one of them knew what she was going to say.
"And I don't want to hear it," he added harshly, still not looking round at her.
"What am I going to say?" She asked.
"That you and Massa were right, that the review was too soon," he stated as he shut off the water and started roughly shaking out the bucket, splattering water around. Seeal ignored the fact that some had landed on her new sandals and bared toes.
"I wasn't going to say that," she assured him firmly. "I was going to ask if you're okay." Which wasn't entirely accurate, but she was pretty sure she would have come up with that question.
"I'm fine," he stated grumpily.
"Well, you don't look fine," she told him frankly.
He finally looked round at her. "Very supportive, Seeal," he said sarcastically.
It wasn't like he always called her 'Raven', but its absence right now felt very pointed and intentional. This wasn't going well already.
"I mean you don't look happy," she tried to explain.
"My results were very good considering my injury," he stressed, still frowning at her and seemingly answering a question she hadn't asked.
"That's good," she replied making sure to smile.
His frown deepened a fraction and he looked back to the bucket and started shaking it out way too aggressively again. "When I'm back from my holiday break away, I'll be returning to non-battle rotation," he stated as he banged the upside-down bucket loudly to 'help' out the residual water inside.
"I thought you had to pass this medical review to do that?" She asked, pretty sure that had been what Massa had told her.
"I talked Meiyo into it," he stated as he turned and began walking away from her, heading along the fence-line of the enclosure, the bucket in his hand.
He'd talked the Healer into it? Just like he'd gotten his way getting discharged too early from the Healing Bay back after his injury. Admittedly, the move to his quarters hadn't hindered his recovery, but clearly the male put having his own way over what was best for his health far too often.
"You mean you argued until you got your way again?" She asked as she following him.
He reached the open gate into the goat enclosure and turned into it, so she followed right on his heels through the gate and back along the fence-line towards the wide pile of sand in one side of the enclosure. The pile was a favourite playground for the goatlings and was where Belka could have a good roll in the sand; however, currently it was covered in all of the other feed buckets. All of them had been recently washed out and were sat drying out on the sand. Clearly he had found more to do than just wash out the day's feed bucket.
"Meiyo understands there's nothing wrong with my mind," Oneakka stated firmly he headed towards the other buckets. "I can lift a good weight and my cardio is excellent."
Seeal wasn't entirely sure how weightlifting or running were required for the more administrative duties the non-battle rotation work involved, but she guessed it was a valid point that his brain was working even if he wasn't fully physically recovered.
Having reached the sand, Oneakka dropped the newest cleaned bucket down amongst the others. "If I was a civilian, I'd be back at full duties," he insisted without looking round.
She stopped a little bit further away from him this time, sensing some distance would be smart here.
He reached down to pick up another bucket and she saw the abrupt hitch and pause in his movements as his wound resisted the stretch down to the sand. Which very obviously just proved the medical review outcome to be correct, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she very firmly kept quiet as he roughly grabbed up the bucket, turned it upside down and started shaking out any residual water.
More droplets went flying, but she'd picked a good sandal-saving distance this time.
"But you're not a civilian," she said carefully. "You're an Elite warrior and you need to be at the peak of fitness to start sparring again, right?"
"I am fit," he insisted angrily.
Damn it she'd stepped on a mine.
He dropped the second bucket and, for some reason, reached down for another. She almost winced on his behalf as she saw him pause again in faint pain and then push on down to pick up the bucket.
"It's just flexibility that's an issue," he added with a little less aggression in his voice as he straightened up.
His pale face was even more flushed now, possibly from all the reaching down, but possibly also due to some embarrassment at so obviously displaying his current lack of flexibility. That loss of flexibility was hardly news to her, but that probably didn't mean anything to his ego right now.
"I'm almost as strong as I used to be," he added.
But she thought she'd heard a touch of something else in this voice there, something that felt a little too close to doubt.
Oneakka being frustrated with himself and situations was one thing, but doubting himself? That was new.
She didn't like it.
"I can see you've gotten almost all your strength back," she agreed quickly. "You look really good," she told him and instantly regretted just how appreciative her voice had been.
He glanced round instantly, almost as surprised at her tone as she was.
She needed to correct things quickly!
"You know, compared to how awful you looked before," she blurted hastily.
He frowned at that.
Great, now she'd insulted him.
"After your injury," she clarified. "You know, when you were dying."
She was making things worse.
He looked away unimpressed.
"Which was how anyone would look in that situation," she tried to explain. "Considering how badly you were hurt-"
He looked round with what looked like sarcastic impatience, and then he reached down again for yet another bucket. He openly winced this time as he stretched down. Why he was repeatedly doing something that was causing him pain was beyond her, but she wasn't about to say anything about that.
"You've done really well," she forged on instead.
Only, that had sounded way too condescending, especially to an Elite warrior.
"Recovering the way you have," she quickly added, feeling like she was just flailing around now trying to dig herself out of the hole she'd dug herself.
"If someone didn't know what you went through they'd not be able to tell," she continued, gesturing to his middle with his tight shirt and far too obvious muscles moving around as he shook out the latest bucket.
It looked like quite a lot of water had splashed over his middle while he'd been washing out the buckets, leaving his pale shirt dampened through, moulding it even tighter to him. She realised that she could even see the dark lines of his tattoos around the left side of his ribcage through the wet material…
He dropped the latest bucket to the ground with what sounded like a far too meaningful thud and she quickly moved her eyes back up to his profile.
"So you've done well," she added weakly, not entirely sure if she wasn't talking to herself now as well.
It felt like a weak thing to say to him really while he was as upset as he was…and she wasn't…
The dark little secret suddenly became obvious to her as she watched him reach down for yet another bucket.
She didn't want him to be upset, but wasn't she feeling just a bit too pleased that he was going to be here in the facility for longer now?
Which was not what she wanted to feel because the whole point about freely enjoying his company recently was knowing that he was going to go off back to fighting monsters soon and her stupid little feelings would just die away.
Instead now those traitorous feelings were suggesting to her that just checking again whether she really could see his tattoos through his shirt would be okay.
She forcefully resisted though.
After all, she'd gotten rather good at not paying too much attention to all the toned male flesh on display when she was around Elite warriors.
Especially Oneakka and how he'd been so quickly regaining his lost muscle mass of late.
Silence hung for a moment and Oneakka finally looked round at her again, letting out a loud sigh.
"Have you finished?" He asked about all her verbal floundering.
"No," she insisted, though she had no idea what else to say.
He rolled his eyes in a way too dramatic fashion, which she took immediate exception too, so she definitely had to say something else now.
"I mean," she said, thinking quickly as he moved a few paces away from her, reaching down for another bucket. She followed after him, but making sure to maintain the same distance as before. This was about him, not her feelings. "You should be proud of how you've recovered so far. I'm sure in no time you'll be back out there killing Wraith, hunting Skerti, and setting fire to massive piles of Litan rose grain again," she joked.
Yes, humour, that could help now.
"I will," he stated, with no humour at all as he threw the latest bucket onto the sand.
"You'll just have to spend a bit more time here with me, the goats, and Massa."
Wow, she'd put herself first in that list. That was just a little too telling.
"And there's the Recruits," she added quickly. "You can do your spot-checks on their fitness levels and skills; you love doing that."
He glanced round, seeming to be actually considering that suggestion.
He looked a little calmer now too as he reached down for the last bucket, turning it upside-down and shaking it out with far less annoyance. Or maybe he'd just tired himself out from all the painful reaching and his prolonged angry grump.
"And if it's flexibility that you need to improve," she added as an idea hit her. "It's a good thing you know someone who is super flexible and who knows how to train that way."
He frowned at her, clearly confused.
"Me, you moron," she frowned at him in return.
The phrase was such a part of their usual banter that the words had just poured out of her mouth.
"Can't call me a moron," he said after a tiny pause, seeming a little reluctant but it was his part of the usual banter play.
"I just did," she replied, adding the standard final response as she smiled at him.
He only ever bantered when he was in a better mood, so this was a good sign.
Plus calling him a moron helped counteract the accidental 'you look really good' incident.
"I don't think I need to learn how to backflip like you, Raven," he said as he glanced down and to the side. She looked down too to see that Belka and the goatlings had all wandered into the enclosure, no doubt wondering what they were missing. Belka walked up to Oneakka and he reached down to stroke her head, and, behind him, Seeal saw Splodge and her brother, Red, were sticking their heads into one of the drying buckets, hopeful for something extra to eat.
"I can do more than backflip," she argued.
He turned away from her and gently shooed the goatlings away from the bucket, but the two little goats simply moved their attention to another bucket that was further away from his reach.
"I'll be getting a new rehab plan tomorrow; that'll focus on improving my flexibility," he stated, clearly turning down her offer to help.
"Okay," she smiled, trying to pretend that hadn't felt like a significant rejection.
Besides, why did she think it would be a good idea to do workouts with him anyway? He wore these tight figure-hugging tops all of the time, so she dreaded to think what he might wear when working out…or not wear.
Okay, she was getting distracted again.
What was with her today?
"I'll be leaving for my two-week holiday next week," he added as he wiped his hands on his thighs, his attention moving over the goatlings clambering freely now over the buckets. "It'll give me time to work on the recovery plan in peace."
Okay that had felt very pointed.
Kind of implied that she was bothering him.
That was fine.
Wasn't like it was her business anyway.
It was his recovery.
Splodge had pottered up and was sniffing at the new sandals, so Seeal reached down to pick up her pet for a cuddle. Considering how quickly the goatlings were growing, she guessed she wasn't going to be able to pick up Splodge for that much longer.
Plus the cuddle felt helpful in the strange tense pause.
"Well, I've leave you in peace now," she said with as casual tone as she could muster as she set Splodge back down onto the grass, trying to ignore the stupid uncomfortable hurt feelings.
She wasn't sure what she'd expected when she'd gotten here. Of course he would be back in his Cuddly Bear of Moor routine, wanting to be left alone.
He did that to everyone.
It had been ridiculous to think that she could help. In fact, instead she'd insulted him, got distracted by… said all the wrong things.
Speaking her mind directly as usual would have been a smarter move. She'd remember that for next time.
At least she knew he respected that approach.
She stroked Splodge's back once more before straightening up, regaining control of the traitorous weakness inside.
"I'll leave you to…" she paused as she considered the cleaned buckets, most of them now overturned by the goatlings, "clean up here," she decided was the nicest description.
If he wanted to tidy up the place while he brooded away, that was his choice.
She could understand he wanted space and time to accept today's bad news.
That it wasn't about her.
"If you want the usual Late Meal with Massa and me," she started as she took a step back, starting to turn away from him, composure fully in place. "I'll see you there."
He glanced round, his eyes moving briefly across her then off to her right. "They still need to be mucked out," he gestured towards the closest straw-filled wooden hut that the goats slept in.
Sure, that would be enough to keep him busy. Help him feel useful.
"You could help with that?" he added casually with a dismissive shrug thrown in. "Since I'm not fully recovered," he added.
It felt like a peace-offering, which surprised her, but the choice of chore left a little to be desired.
"A moment ago you were as strong as you've ever been," she pointed out with as non-challenging voice as she could, "now you need my help with the smelliest job in cleaning out the enclosure?"
She saw the tiniest little touch of a smile across his face as he glanced down to Belka again, stroking her back.
"Seems a bit of coincidence," Seeal added, though she felt stupidly happy about it.
"Cleaning out the muck from the straw takes a lot of work, lot of stretching, and since flexibility is an issue for me…" he shrugged as he finally met her eyes again.
The edge of humour was in his voice and just about visible in his eyes around the still somewhat self-conscious sad expression.
She held his gaze, giving him a suspicious look just to play along.
"Alright," she agreed. "But you're carrying the muck buckets, since you're so strong now."
He nodded at that and she got the impression that she'd said something right for a change.
0000
Halling watched as the grappling attachments slowly reeled the docking freight vessel and the derelict Traveller ship closer together.
Given the Traveller ship's uneven hull – typical with their construction methods – he was having to fine-tune how close to bring the two vessels. Stood in the open airlock of the docking freight, he leaned out a fraction more, safely held in place by his magnetised boots, and watched the gap close between the top of the Traveller ship and the freighter. The distance was still a little wide, but it was as close as he could bring them. He released the button for the grappling reels and reached for the control for the ramp. Just in front of his boots, the metal ramp began to extend out from the docking freight towards the open side hatch of the Traveller ship.
He kept his thick gloved-finger on the control as he watched the ramp inching out from him, waiting until it was just shy of the other ship and then released the control. All was good to go.
Though there was little in the way of starlight out here, the Traveller ship was swamped in bright light from the Fleet ships encircling it. The multiple light sources brought every nook and cranny of the outer hull into sharp focus, revealing the scorch-mark damage and collision crumpling further along this side of the hull. Halling took a moment to examine what he could from here. Outside of that damage, and the scorch-marks on the stern of the ship, there was no other clue as to what had happened to the ship.
There was the usual multitude of evidence of the Travellers' way of developing and maintaining their ships, with obvious soldering lines where new pieces of the hull had been added, and what looked like an entirely new stabiliser had been added at some point. Unlike most of the Salvager derelicts, this ship had been designed to be flight capable in a planetary atmosphere, and it had clearly been in good use in the past. Still, Commander Ara had been right, the ship had been well cared for, which suggested that, if the Salvagers had commandeered it at some point, that they hadn't had it that long.
Halling lifted his left arm, studying the sensor panel on his space-ready suit. As with all the other drifters, there were absolutely no readings from the Traveller ship. No power and no residual heat. Like the other drifters, it had been out here awhile.
"Sythus," Halling called within his helmet, the audio link pickup transmitting his voice. "We are ready to enter #13 drifter."
"Understood boarding party," Si' voice replied into Halling's ear.
Halling turned on the spot and looked back towards the three members of the Sythus staff joining him on the boarding team. Two were Security and one a Scientist. All three of them nodded to him from within their helmets. They were ready.
Halling turned back to the gap between him and the drifter and started forward.
His magnetised boots kept him attached to the ramp, but he still felt the instinctive reaction of his body as he moved across the open space. There was no gravity so there was no possibility of him falling off the ramp, but his basic animal brain didn't know that. It just niggled nervously at him and pushed adrenaline into his bloodstream. He ignored the reaction easily though, having done this manoeuvre countless times throughout his career.
Though admittedly none of those previous occasions had involved him entering an abandoned Traveller ship.
As he neared the open hatch into the drifter, his helmet's lights cast more illumination inside, highlighting a wall opposite and nothing else.
Once within arm's reach of the hatch, he paused to reach down for his energy weapon, lifting it up into his peripheral vision to release the safety and trigger on its powerful light. Weapon in hand, he reached out with his free left hand and grasped the edge of the hatch and leaned himself round and into the ship.
A corridor led off to the left, following the line of the outer hull, whereas the right just led to a dead-end. His helmet and weapon's lights cast down the dark corridor, glowing across the uneven walls of typical jerry-rigged Traveller tech. Various cables and wires dangled from the ceiling and wall panels, the lack of gravity creating odd angles and moving shapes as they drifted. But there was nothing else, not even random items drifting in the zero-gravity.
"All clear inside," Halling reported for all to hear. "No apparent signs of damage. Proceeding into the ship."
"Understood," Si replied.
Halling set one boot over the lip of the hatch and into the ship, then brought in his other boot, keeping his lights trained down the corridor ahead. He worked his way forward, running his weapon's light up over the ceiling and around the walls methodically, more light gradually spilling down the corridor as the rest of his team entered the ship behind him.
"No marks on the floor like on the Salvager ships," Halling reported. "No signs of anything so far."
With more light now from the team, Halling moved a little faster down the corridor, checking everything in view. A section of the ceiling's cables were hanging low ahead, partly obscuring the rest of the corridor. Halling pushed the thick cables aside to dip down around them, peering up as he did to see why they had fallen. Pieces of broken string were obviously stuck to a very jerry-rigged panel next to the ceiling's dead light fixture. He guessed the string had been all that had held up the cables, so it was little wonder they had found their way free.
Moving beyond that, he could see the corridor ended with an open dark inner hatch leading into the middle of the ship. "Inner hatch ahead, open; no signs of damage still." He relayed as he stepped to the left side of the corridor, training his lights into the pitch black rectangle. "Looks like a small room inside."
"We're reading your distance as three-quarters down the ship, about eight metres from the front of the ship," Jobrill reported for him.
Moving as smoothly as using magnetised boots allowed, Halling headed through the hatchway. It was deeply dark inside, the room a multi-cornered intersection room with cabinets on the wall and storage bins bolted to the floor. Two more hatchways stood open, one leading towards the nose of the ship, the other towards the stern.
Halling headed forward, and as he passed the wall-mounted cabinets, he paused to run his helmet lights over them, picking up handwritten labels scrawled across them. He could read enough basic Traveller to identify one held emergency medical equipment and another spare components. Out of interest, he reached up and released the catch of the medical supplies cabinet, pulling its door open. There was nothing inside, the cabinet entirely empty. He checked in the components cabinet and lifted the lid of a storage bin marked as 'food supplies' but everything was equally as bare.
"Cabinets and storage bins in here have been cleaned out," he reported as he focused forward towards the shadowed hatchway facing the rear of the ship.
As the rest of the team entered the small intersection room, more light danced over the walls and floor. Everything was either brown uneven panelling or strips of pale coating the cabinets with the scrawled handwritten labels.
Moving towards his target hatchway, Halling's lights were already catching the glint of metal inside. As he stepped up to the doorway, spilling all his helmet lights inside he saw towers of metal and cables rising up like massive teeth from the dark room's floor. "I think we've found the engine room," he reported. "It's full of tech."
"Not gutted out?" Jobrill asked.
"There are big blocks of tech in here, not sure they could be removed," Halling replied as he turned for a more expert opinion, but the Scientist was already at his side, peering in through the hatch. Halling turned further round to see the two Security team members were at the other front-facing door.
"Looks like another intersection room through here, Honoured Elite," one of them reported to him. "Then another hatchway open ahead, most likely the Central Station?"
"Both of you check that out, we'll investigate the engine room," Halling ordered and both males nodded within their helmets before turning away.
Halling turned back to the engine room hatchway only to find that the Scientist was already inside, the female peering at the closest tall block of tech.
"I think this is part of their sublight engine," she reported as she brushed floating cables aside.
Halling moved in around her, taking the lead again, as he moved round the tower of tech. There were more of the tall engine tech blocks ahead, littering the room and providing little space to move. He turned carefully, cautious of catching his suit, and squeezed between two more of the tall stacks, wires and tiny panels floating around them.
Halling's boot brushed against something and he paused, looking down to see several dark blocks of tech fastened to the floor.
The Scientist's helmet lights danced over them. "This isn't Traveller tech," she uttered with a clear frown in her voice as she crouched down to examine a bulky block.
Halling shifted around it and between two more of the engine blocks, only to find more of the non-Traveller tech stacked up into a new tower. The thing looked faintly unstable to the eye, though it hadn't broken apart in the zero-gravity. "Look at this," he called to the Scientist.
Her lights danced across the close press of the tech as she navigated towards him and then over the stack. "This is Salvager tech," she confirmed what Halling was quickly suspecting.
"Salvager tech stored in there or incorporated into the engine?" Si asked from the Sythus.
"It's plugged into the…." the Scientist paused and Halling saw her running her gloved hands along the thick lines of cables connecting the Salvager stack to the more standard Traveller tech. "This doesn't make sense," she muttered to herself.
Halling turned, leaving her to that task while he checked the rest of the crowded room. Squeezing between more of the towers, he spotted yet more of the Salvager tech, all very obviously bolted to the floor and almost sloppily patched into the engine components. Even for the Travellers' style of engineering this didn't look right.
"This looks like…" The Scientist muttered over the link. "I think they were trying to turn this into a hyperspace engine."
Halling looked round at that.
"Is that even possible?" Jobrill asked.
"No, though," the Scientist paused her voice shifted as she obviously was poking around the tech. "If anyone could make that work in a ship like this it would probably be the Travellers. But I can't see how it would work even with this extra tech…"
"Are you able to tell if the extra components were the ones taken from the Salvager derelicts?" Si asked her.
"I don't believe so. These are parts of engines and a power coupling, a capacitor too. No screens or the console equipment we saw ripped out of the Salvager ships," she replied. "We'd need to look at them properly, but I'm not seeing any signs of damage indicative of having been ripped out of another ship the way we saw on the other derelicts."
Halling stepped around more tech, almost at the back of the room now. Two massive shadowed conduits rose up out of the engine blocks, both disappearing through part of the back wall, presumably designed to take power to the back end of the ship, but in the middle, against the back wall, his lights glanced over something unexpected.
"We've got a computer screen at the back of the engine room," Halling reported as he picked his way through to the screen. It was hanging at a faint angle, as one of its supports that fixed it to the wall was broken. As he neared it, he saw there was a console beneath, but that had the far more usual look of these drifters. "The console it's attached to has been gutted, but the screen is still here."
As he reached up and brushed a glove along the side edge of the screen, the Scientist's lights ghosted over Halling as she joined him. Frost danced away from his touch, but he could see the usual buttons for the screen were intact though there was no power.
"Honoured Elite?" One of the Security members of the team called over the link. "We are in the ship's Central Station and it's looking gutted like the others, but you may want to see the damage yourself."
"Understood, on my way," Halling replied to them before he angled his helmet to look at the Scientist next to him. "See if you can get anything out of this," he indicated the screen.
"Yes, Honoured Elite," she replied, several of her tools already in her gloved-hands.
Halling turned away, but paused to double-check his suit's sensor panel, which still showed nothing but the boarding party. He took a further moment to run his lights over all the corners of the engine room and across the ceiling. Finding nothing that made him worry about leaving the Scientist by herself, he started back through the maze of dark dead tech.
Back out into the intersection room, he headed for the hatchway opposite and into the next intersection room. Like the last, this small room held various cabinets and two massive storage bins with the image of emergency space-ready suits displayed on the side. He continued on to the open hatchway ahead, through which he could see the rest of the team's lights.
Halling stepped into the Central Station and glanced around quickly. It was roughly triangular with a line of gutted consoles running the width of the room, then two wide steps down to what were obviously two piloting seats facing towards the nose of the ship. There had probably been a console between the piloting seats, but it was missing, as was the floor under it and part of the seats themselves. One of the Security team members was crouched down over the hole, his lights illuminating down into the massive gap.
"Looks like this was the main computer core," the team member reaching down into the hole reported, his gloves lifting the edges of torn wires.
"Sythus," Halling reported. "It appears the entire computer core was taken."
"And the wall screens," the other Security male reported, turning and pointing within the shine of his lights towards the holes in the walls of the Central Station.
Halling let out a sigh as he moved around the hole to shine his weapon's light across one side wall. "Like before, the screens have been ripped out, taking parts of the walls with them," he reported for the listening ears. It was the same shoddy ripping out technique from the last drifters.
Halling battled against the disappointment.
There was nothing new here except one lone computer screen in the engine room.
"Understood," Si replied, his own disappointment clear in his voice.
"It may be then that the Salvagers had acquired the Traveller ship and were incorporating their own tech to try and create a hyperspace drive," Jobrill theorised over the link.
"Perhaps they were stuck out further in this sector, a small fleet of them, and attempted to adapt the Traveller engine," Commander Ara replied from The Valse. "Especially if they were being hunted."
Halling listened as he crossed the Central Station, shining his lights across the other wall just to be thorough.
Only something caught his eye off to the right.
He turned, casting his lights into the dark closest back corner of the Central Station.
Nothing seemed out of place, just more of the gaping holes where wall screens would have been. But something…
He moved towards the corner, running his lights over the uneven wall and floor panels….the floor.
He paused, shining his weapon's strong light down on the brown floor-plating. The light wasn't shining off the metal floor here like it was everywhere else. As if there was something coating it…
Taking a couple of steps to the duller floor surface, he crouched down. It could just be that it was different plating. In Traveller way, the room's floor plating was obviously irregular anyway.
He brushed his fingertips over the duller floor.
Tiny little dark pieces broke away and floated around his glove.
He angled his stronger light over the flecks.
Dark red flecks.
"I think we may have dried blood here," he cut into the audio link debate about the Traveller ship.
"Blood?" Jobrill asked.
"Possibly," Halling replied as he stood up, the two Security now adding their lights across the corner of the room. "It's a dark reddish brown substance caked onto the floor in one back corner of the Central Station. It's easy to miss against the brown floor plating, but it's breaking off on touch."
"Could be oil or the treated surface of the metal denaturing from loss of atmosphere?" One Security male suggested, but the now three sets of helmet lights all trained on this section of the floor made Halling doubt that.
"No, see here," Halling pointed down to the curved edge of the stain cutting across sections of the plating. "It's coating just the surface in this corner."
"It's a good two metres across," the Security member near Halling noted.
"Here too," the other male added. "In the corner, it goes up the wall for a foot or so."
Halling headed towards him, crouching down. The uneven line of the stain was more obvious now his eyes were trained in, but it was still difficult to pick out against the brown panelling. He reached out and brushed his gloves against the wall and, again, little red-brown flakes broke away.
"It looks like perhaps bodies were piled up here in the corner before gravity was lost," Halling reported the grim conclusion as he straightened up again, frowning at the image his mind supplied. There was far too much blood for one victim.
"I'll take samples," the closest Security male volunteered.
Halling nodded and walked a few steps back from the corner, following the edge of the stain.
"There are a few trails of blood down here too, along the back of Central Station," Halling reported as he followed the tiny pools, difficult to see without his light held inches above the brown floor plating.
The drops were stretched out and infrequent, suggesting someone bleeding as they walked perhaps? Or as the bodies were carried out.
He followed the trail to the open hatchway out of Central Station.
Stepping out into the small intersection room he walked to the far hatchway that led into the next intersection room and crouched down, shining his light down on the floor. The bodies must have been removed, as with this set up inside the ship, he couldn't imagine them all being forced out when the ship was exposed to vacuum. There were too many corners and obstacles.
Except there was no sign of blood in the second hatchway. He frowned as he ran his light back towards the Central Station hatchway, picking up another patch of stain outside it.
But it didn't go towards this doorway…
He turned in his crouch towards the large storage bins just behind him, a dark thought occurring.
"Did you check inside the storage bins in the second intersection room?" Halling asked the team.
"No, Honoured Elite, we came straight in here," one male replied from Central Station.
Halling nodded, a growing sense of foreboding filling him as he stood up and moved around the front of the large storage bins.
Under the sharp focused light of his weapon he could see dark flecks across the lids' surfaces, and a darker smear around one of the lid's clasps. It was possible that one of the Travellers could just have been bleeding badly when they'd opened the bin for an emergency space-ready suit…
More lights danced over the scene as one of the Security members arrived as Halling set his gloved fingers on the closest bin's clasp and triggered it open.
It was spring-loaded so the lid threw itself open.
Dead pale eyes stared back at Halling as a body floated up out of the bin and Halling heard the Security member swear loudly over the link.
The body had clearly been exposed to vacuum, but the blood caked into her clothes told of the true cause of her death.
"Sythus," Halling reported grimly, "we have a body-"
"Bodies, Honoured Elite," the Security member interrupted, his lights shining further down into the bin.
Halling adjusted the female body aside a little and peered down. There were at least two more bodies beneath her, absolutely coated in dried blood.
"There are three bodies in this storage bin that we can see," Halling amended as he passed control of the floating body to the Security male and reached for the clasp for the second storage bin.
He kept a firm grasp of this one's lid to control how it sprung open, allowing it open enough just to peer inside. "And at least another two in the other bin," he reported as he quickly closed it, locking in the evidence. They were going to need to bring the entire ship onto one of the Fleet ships to study everything closely, hopefully find genetic data.
"Are they Salvagers or Travellers, Halling?" Si asked.
"They are dressed as Travellers from what I can see," Halling replied.
"Honoured Elite," the Security male said quietly, his glove pointing past the floating body to the first storage bin's lid.
Halling frowned at the sight. "There are deep bloodstained scratches and gouges on the inside of one storage bin lid," he reported for those listening.
He reached for the dead female again, lifting one of her pale hands.
Her nails were ripped and bloodied.
"She was locked inside," the Security male uttered.
"Did they die from suffocation?" Jobrill asked.
"No," Halling replied firmly as he adjusted the body round enough to see the far side of her neck in more detail. The left side of her throat was almost entirely missing, as if an animal had sunk its jaws into her and just torn out that side, leaving part of her air-pipe visible.
Given what he'd personally faced on that Rogue Hive, the size of the fangs he'd barely kept away from his own neck, the damage was not all that surprising to him.
"It was the Skerti," Halling reported.
00000
TBC