Quinns held on to the side of the ship, peering over the edge whenever he could muster the courage. He had made it along the outside of the Helianthus, across the connected ports, and on to the MRH Hayes. The open hatch taunted him. He froze, trying to imagine every possible reason it could be open. Had they seen him? No, they would have captured him already. He needed to focus.

More important than why the hatch was open, Quinns needed to locate whoever had done it. He kept an eye on the hatch as he searched. Keeping his body low to the ship’s surface, he stuck to the edge, pulling himself along. Before he could spot anyone, a person drifted out of the open hatch. He ducked down and flattened himself to the surface. Close. He wished he could hear their movements. He imagined the thud of magnetic boots catching the surface or the click of a tether. Without air, there was nothing. He worked up the nerve and peeked over the edge. The person had tethered to the ship and was making his way crossing the starboard side, away from Quinns.

Quinns released his tether and pushed himself up over the side. Keeping low to the ship, he crawled toward the open hatch. There was no chance to tether himself. He could only rely on the magnetic power in his boots and the tips of his mechanical fingers. Any slip-up or debris would knock him free of the surface and into that wide-open void of space. The thought made his heart pounded so hard his chest ached. He pulled himself straight into the hatch without so much as a peek inside. No one greeted him – he was lucky.

The inside of the hatch had two smaller hatches, one straight ahead and one to the right. These led into the maintenance ducts, thin passageways throughout the ship. They gave access to the inner workings and wiring of the ship. The ducts did not have air, oxygen was saved for the living spaces. Quinns picked the one to the right and gripped the pressure lock with his right arm. The lock needed a specific tool to open it, but he could pop the pressure threshold with his right hand. He only had to dial back the safety on his prosthetic. He made the change, braced his shoulder, and squeezed. The lock gave, and the handle popped open. He pushed off the opposite wall, and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

He was in.

The ducts had room for Quinns to crawl, but it was tight. His arms rubbed up against the walls with each movement. In the low gravity, he could glide with only a little momentum. It didn’t last. Gravity varied throughout the ducts. He figured the ship must be equipped with one room gravitational generators. It was weaker than the ship-wide system on the Helianthus, but it was compact. Perfect for a small ship. Quinns reached a point where he could no longer glide and needed to crawl. He stopped and lay still on his stomach.

Panic had pushed him to this point without stopping to catch his breath. He focused on breathing now, heavy breaths coming one after another. The EMU worked to replenish the oxygen as quickly as he used it, vibrating along his back. He rested the visor against the floor. At least, the lack of air in the ducts meant no one could hear him panting.

His mind began to clear, and he checked his location on the map. Travel through the maintenance ducts was hard. The crew would avoid them unless necessary. For Quinns, that meant the ducts were safe. He traced his current passageway to its conclusion on the map. It ended at a hallway only part way to the server room. There was no straight shot through the ducts. He would need to enter the hallways. With a final sigh, he began crawling forward.

***

Valorie was the last to exit the docking bridge. She followed the Captain and Leon on to the MRH Hayes and into the decontamination room. It was a small room – more like a closet – with only one dim yellow light. She was the only one that did not have to duck her head going through the docking hatch. Leon had the worst of it. He paused, allowing Valorie through first. He ducked his head and bent at the waist pulling the hatch closed behind him. Once the door latched, the decontamination began.

Valorie, her eyes glued to the door as it sealed shut, fought the urge to wring her hands together. The air misted with a sterilizing compound that reminded her of the Anderson’s medical ward. The chemical scent stung her eyes and nose, and she looked at the floor as she blinked to clear away the sensation. They were in enemy territory now – no going back. Her heartbeat was too quick, and her body tensed to run. None of these instincts were helpful.

“Valorie, look up.” Gareth interrupted her thoughts. The distraction broke her growing panic, and she met his eyes.

“Yes, sir. Sorry.” She said. His thoughtful expression broke into a small encouraging smile. She felt a hand pat her shoulder and looked at Leon.

“Been there, newbie. Gotta take it one step at a time.” He said. His neck was at a slight angle from the low ceiling. His irritation was clear, but his eyes were understanding. His direct thoughts echoed his words, and Valorie found that honesty calming. When she reached out, both Leon and Gareth were tense but tempered it with calculation. A readiness to act, and the knowledge to know when. She focused on this, trying to emulate as best she could.

The mist settled, and a green indicator light blinked across the metal door in front of them. The door parted in the middle and paused with a huff of air as the pressure settled. A slice of bright light cut into the dimness before the door slid open the rest of the way. The scout ship had no bay, so the entrance led into an equipment room. Shelves full of suits, tools, and weapons lined the walls behind bulletproof glass. The ceiling was not much higher, only an inch over Leon’s head if he stood straight.

When Valorie’s eyes adjusted, she could make out three people. Her sister, Seda, was one. She was a few steps behind the others with her head bowed. One of the wires that exited the base of her skull was attached to the wall on her right.

At the front of the group stood a large man with little hair and dark bushy eyebrows. He was in full uniform, and she could see he was captain by the pins along his collar. Another man stood next to him. The first and only thing she noticed about him was the rifle in his hands. She grit her teeth.

“At ease.” The captain said, and the man lowered his gun. The man’s square stance and posture left no questions in his intent. He scrutinized them up and down, poised to move the instant they made any mistake. Leon stood straight and met his stare head-on with an easy smirk. The Captain faced Gareth. “Step forward, Hughes. You and your crew are welcome on my ship.” He said. Gareth stepped out of the decontamination room.

“Thank you, Captain Dupont. With me is my first mate, Leon,” He gestured to Leon who stepped forward, right up to Gareth’s side. “And my communications officer, Valorie.” He gestures to her, and she followed Leon’s example, standing on Gareth’s left. No SCT would dare stand forward like that. It was a good start, but it left her feeling exposed. She glanced at Gareth, but he was focused on Dupont.

“Well met. As you know, I am Lucas Dupont, Captain of this ship.” He lingered on his title and name. “This soldier is my data technician.” He added. The man at his side saluted Gareth.

“Nik Jovic, Sir.”

“He will be your best friend during the inspection, as he will be performing and analyzing the scans.” Dupont said.

He never bothered to introduce Seda. So much was normal. Unless Seda was called on, she would not move or speak during the entire exchange. That was a best-case scenario. Valorie had been there many times. It was only now, standing at Gareth’s side with her name in the air, Valorie understood the difference.