Page 35 of Lorran
In space.
The deep dark of space surrounded her, pierced with a scattering of cold light from distant stars. The webbing of the bridge emitted a soft light, but the immense blackness of the void swallowed it. Impossibly thin threads and a transparent barrier were the only thing between her and the darkness.
Wyn felt tiny. The universe was so big, and she was one person, and somehow, she was here, in exactly the right spot for this view.
“This is the best, most terrifying day of my life,” she muttered.
Lorran touched her shoulder. “I am openingSRV-P11’shatch. Be alert. Gravity is nonoperational, but your boots will keep you grounded.”
He punched in a code to the black box. The hatch gave a heart-lurching clank, and he pulled it open. Lorran stepped through easily, but the threshold was just a bit too tall for Wyn to step over.
Lorran reached over, plucked her up like she weighed nothing, and set her down on the other side. She felt the moment the boots connected with the floor, like a cat sinking its claws in.
The ship didn’t look as if gravity functions were offline. She expected furniture and various odds and ends floating by when they entered. Wyn opened her palm, and the flashlight drifted up.
“Cool,” she whispered. Lorran patted her head, which made her flush with embarrassment. So what if she acted like a tourist? She was a tourist.
“I’m not a child,” she sniffed.
“Indeed. Your delight is infectious, and you have tiny little Terran legs.” He glanced down at a handheld device. “Atmosphere is present, but oxygen is below the recommended level. Keep your helmet on and let us assume environmental functions are nonoperational. This way.”
Lorran led her through the corridors with confidence, as if he made the journey every day. She followed, struggling with each step, the beam from the flashlight bouncing as she tried to keep up.
Tiny little Terran legs. Hmph.
“How do you know where you’re going?” she asked.
“Because I know where I am going. The ship is a basic design with no modifications.”
“You have all the floor plans for every ship memorized?”
“Every standard Mahdfel ship, yes.”
“Isn’t that boring?” She thought of the monotonous corridors from the previous ship.
“Creativity is sacrificed for efficiency. Mass produced parts are readily available. Repairs are done more quickly. I am sure an engineer could provide all the vital reasons they reuse the same schematics again and again.” He paused. “Engineers love to brag about how they manage to keep the ship from exploding.”
“Okay, I don’t think that’s something you’d want to brag about, but it’s useful knowing the way.” She could see the benefit in sameness, even if it sounded profoundly dull.
“TheJudgmentis an older ship and has been refurbished several times. It is unique.”
“TheJudgmentwas the big ship we left?”
“Yes. It is the largest battlecruiser and clan in the Sangrin fleet. It is very prestigious to serve aboard theJudgment.”
“Maybe I didn’t see the unique parts. It was very…gray.”
Lorran glanced behind, as if trying to catch her eye. The light from the flashlight reflected across his faceplate, obscuring him in a smudge of light. “I will show you the unique aspects on a date night.”
Wyn added his words to the tally in her mind.
Day two in space: stood on a spiderweb bridge, explored a ghost ship, and scored a date with an alien hottie.
“Sounds good. For the record, a haunted spaceship isn’t quality date material,” she said. Her alien had a head full of nebula gas if he thought this counted as a date.
“So you admit this is a date.”
“Oh no, you’re not tricking me. This is not a date.”
