Dumpster Diving
11 Aug 2016Kyndi the Badass Space Chick
Tionisla Orbital Graveyard. Never thought I'd ever be desperate enough to go poking around here.
I fly my Cobra slowly though the dense, floating mausoleum that is the famous Tionisla Graveyard. Ages ago, it was a hallowed site where only the most noteworthy vessels were honorably put to pasture. Of course, the cost of maintaining and babysitting such a ripe target was considerable, and the more vessels were set honorably adrift, the harder it was for local Authority to keep looters and scavvers away. Eventually, the funding to maintain security ran out, and the system government washed its hands of the whole thing.
And the grave robbers descended like vultures.
All around me, parts and hull plating are floating, gently causing my Cobra's shield to ripple as they bounce off. It's been over a century since the powers-that-be threw in the towel, and a hundred years is a long damn time for scavvers to yank the guts out just about every ship here.
And damn if a big, dark graveyard of abandoned ships isn't spooky as hell to boot.
The place is like a tomb. It's almost totally dark, with my Cobra's search lights the only illumination around. I've been searching for hours, and I'm beginning to regret taking the job.
What was it you told yourself back in Jim's office? "A quick back and forth?" Yeah, right.
Exhaling in frustration and wishing mightily for an o-head joint, I pull up the data file on my target: A custom-made Krait Mk I fighter, flown by the famous Jack Vance, hero of the Cemiess conflict from forever ago. Apparently, Big Jim wants the ship for a personal trophy, a middle finger to both the Empire and the Federation. What's more, I'm not the first freelancer he's sent after it. He's been bribing people to fix it up bit by bit for months, even going so far to install a modern frame-shift drive. Everything was going well enough, until one of his men got a little ambitious and decided to fly the Krait out himself before initiating a proper systems warmup. The capacitor fuse blew, along with Big Jim's temper.
And so here I am, playing fetch for some rich ship dealer.
I look again and frown. His man at least had possessed the foresight to hide the Krait in the carcass of a larger ship to keep it safe from scavvers. Unfortunately, that made things pretty difficult for me. Not only am I supposed to find a tiny ship in a massive, dark graveyard of ships, but I'm supposed to find a ship within a ship.
No wonder he was offering top credit for the job. He knew what a pain in the ass it would be.
The sun peeks out from behind the planet around which the Graveyard was assembled. Good. That would at least give me more light than just my searchlights. I check the data file again for the notes on where the Krait was hidden.
An old Federal frigate. The kind that was phased out after Core Dynamics lobbied their way to the top of the Federal Navy's list.
Alright. That's got to be it. In the distance is a long, ugly sub-capital ship with the old-school Federation naval logo on it. It's little more than a husk, with the turrets stripped off and engines gutted, but the outer hull is mainly intact. I drift by the massive grey vessel and shine my ship's lights over it.
FNS Harry Turtledove. Never heard of him. Let's hope he wouldn't have changed how things turned out too much, huh?
There. A giant gash along the frigate's hull. It's too narrow for my Cobra to fit, but a little ol' Krait?
I cut the throttle and shine the lights inside. At first, I don't see anything, but then, the corner of a greenish-grey wingtip glints in the light...
I smile. Bingo. It's about damn time. Now let's jump ship and get the hell out of here.
Before getting up, I check my ship's readouts. Zero sig on the Krait, just like I'd expected. It's as though it isn't even there. And according to the sensors, there's not a soul in this place other than myself.
I unbuckle and start towards the rear of the ship. Most of my things are in storage back in Jim's dealership, and it's just a heavy-duty spacewalking suit, tools, and rations to get me through this job. Getting into the suit is cumbersome- but I manage, checking the seals twice before donning the helmet. I pat the oversize pocket on my leg, feeling the reassuring outline of the capacitor fuse.
Everything is prepared. I've got a utility belt that has every tool that I need. If Jim is as good as his word, the Krait's been repaired and updated. All I need to do is insert the new fuse and wait for everything to come online.
Yeah, and I've been in the business long enough to be suspicious of an easy job that pays well.
I take what may be the final look around my Cobra while walking to the rear airlock. She's been a good ship, and part of me is sad to see her go. Still, whatever sentiment I have is mollified by the sheer amount of money that Jim is throwing at me to bring back his new toy. Screwing up my face, I punch the airlock controls, causing alarms to ring and emergency lights to spin. I pull the safety tether from the wall and hook it on to my suit. The airlock cycle finishes, and I feel the old, familiar floating sensation as the safeties disengage on the outer door. I slide it open and check my tether one last time.
Drifting outside in a spacesuit, the Tionisla Orbital Graveyard looks even more decrepit. In the comfort of my Cobra, the scale of the place made me feel small, but now I feel positively insignificant. I fire a quick burst from my suit's maneuvering jets to drift closer to the massive derelict. The great black tear in its hull looms larger and larger as I drift further from the ship I know works towards the ship that I hope works. As I pass though the gash, the darkness overtakes me as my eyes scramble to adjust to the black.
Despite myself, my heart starts to thump harder in my chest and a thin sheen of sweat coats my face. Swallowing hard, I force myself to focus on the task at hand.
What's the matter, Kyndi Jane? Scared of the dark?
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Opening them, I flip on my suit's tactical searchlights. The inside of the frigate is bathed in an eerie green glow- but the Krait is right there. It's intact, and patches of fresh hull plating confirm that I'm in the right place. Firing my maneuvering jets once more, I activate my mag boots and land on the wing of ship. Reaching into my utility belt, I pull out a universal multitool and take the first steps towards the exterior reactor access.
Time to put on your big girl pants and get on with the damn job.