《The Interstellar Artship》008.5 NOTE — Locked in a Locker

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Encrypted Soundbite Transmission on wavelength 451.7

Is this thing working? I can’t tell if it’s working. I guess it doesn’t matter since this isn’t going anywhere; I’m just talking to myself. But talking to a recording device makes it feel more solid, right? Less like I’m crying out to the void. Okay, okay, let’s assess the situation. Think about it logically, like Sarge would, or Silas would. I was on an underground mission with Ava and Vedod, and we were chased, and I got caught by the Heartless. They look like what I’ve heard, but… Not as mythic? They wear those silver visors and their suits are covered in hunks of destructive equipment, linked with hoses and dials, but they’re people. Just people. They hauled me back through the tunnels and into their ship, tossed me into a decrepit decontamination chamber, and one of them rifled through my clothes. I thought horrible, horrible things were about to happen to me, but they just took out my comm and voice-recorder and smashed them. Then they hauled me to… What I guess is the brig? There’s a series of locker-sized pods along a corridor, about 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide, and they stuffed me into one of those and latched it. So I had plenty of time to panic and cry. Stuck inside the box, in the dark, without hearing anyone or anything after those two Heartless walked away. They had talked, but I only remember parts of what they said. I might have been panicking. I do remember them making fun of me, and one of them barked at me like a dog before grabbing me to go through my clothes. Trying to scare me. Awful and mean, but very human. I forgot that the Heartless are… People. I don’t know if that makes this scarier or not. The ship took off probably a few hours ago, and not too long after I stopped hearing atmospheric friction, one of the Heartless wrenched my brig-pod open. His visor was off, and he looked like a smuggler. Shaved head with scars roping across his skin, dragging his lip into a forced sneer. I probably looked really snively and pathetic and small. He laughed at me, with more than a few metal teeth, and then tossed in the smashed pieces of my comm and latched the door again. “Somethin’ to keep ya busy!” he said, and his heavy steel boots clomped away. I gathered up the pieces and tried to make sense of them, but it was hard to see. There’s only a thin line of light that comes in around the latch. But I did my best to put it back together. The receiver is gone, so I can’t hear back from anyone, and the transmitter is damaged, so who knows if this is sending a signal. If it is, it’s probably too weak to be traced. It may not even be recording. But putting this back together, or at least trying to, did help me calm down. I don’t think there’s anything to be done but wait. I’ll rack my brain for anything I remember about the corridor, anything I can learn about the ship. I don’t know why the Heartless didn’t just kill me, but they want me alive for a reason. Maybe just for questioning. So I am resolving now to be tough. I hope Captain Ava and Vedod are okay. This would be a bit easier if one of them was here, especially Captain Ava. I’m sure she’d have a plan to get out of here. But it’s not right to wish anyone was here with me. I hope we land soon.

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