What Happens in Orbit Pt. 17

When even the suggestion of sunlight had faded, she stood.

"Okay, Cora. Let's do this."

She circled the ship. It bore the ornate detail of the Sheevae, but in shape, it was identical to the old mercenary ship they'd lived on.

Then that means the eject panels are on the roof. They'd be easy enough to pull, made to break away in an emergency. Cora had listened to Tor ramble on about how they were too easy to remove. Clinging to the trim edges, she understood what he meant. They were held down with thin metal clips. Cora tugged one of the clips out, then another. She pushed them in either side, gingerly lifting the panel from its place. She inspected the edges. It had a seal, made of some kind of flexible red material. Really? That's all?

There was another one an arm's length behind it. I had to say something.

This one was not as easy.

When she finally got it out, Cora resisted the urge to throw it like a frisbee. It would have to be replaced before the ship could take off. The tunnel before her opened into an area that Tor called superspace. Cora called it the attic. It was open and unlit, not like the maintenance tunnels.

It was just above the pilot's area, where they were supposed to eject from. Another panel lay below her. She ignored it, crawling forward. On second thought- Cora returned to the tunnel she'd come through, pulling the second panel back into place. There.

She inched along the smooth metal, listening.

The ship's life support systems weren't running. Air was being cycled in only from outside, making it eerily quiet.

Holding her breath, Cora crept towards an opening. The stale air carried no scent. This was the maintenance tunnel. If it was identical the the other ship, the closest panel ahead would open into the control room. The locked, secured control room.

Her own heartbeat was deafening. I have to calm down before I pull this up. With my luck, he'd be right here.

She waited, breathing as slowly as she could. The panel unlatched with a faint clack, lifting easily. No sound came from the opening.

There was, however, a faint glow. Poking her head in, Cora squinted at a cluster of monitors. Oh, perfect. This ship had security cameras.

Cora held tightly to the ledge, lowering her feet to the ground. Her shoulders and back burned with the effort. It paid off.

The air cycled on, vents rustling to life.

Cora approached the monitors, motion catching her eye. Mar was lounging on a couch in the common area. He stared up at the ceiling. He looks just fine. His arms were slung over the back. The feed was slightly blurred, but Cora could tell that something was off with his eyes.

She nudged the joystick, trying to bring him into focus.

This was a mistake.

Slowly, Mar turned to look at the camera. He tilted his chin up, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Ah. Hey, Cora."

I fucked up.

He grinned, not moving from the couch. "There's only two ways out of that control room, back through the ceiling panel, or through the door. I'll give you a head start."