Salvage Rights

Deep in a twisted metallic jungle of dripping pipes, writhing cable and corrugated

walkways discolored with grime, a man was cursing. Quite creatively, in fact.

"Frag you, fardlin sixth spawn of scylla, hell-bent puppy snargler in yer momma's gross

swollen f--"

"ZAC! Shut UP already! Bad enough I hafta listen to you at all, but your language could

peel thermal ceramic off a dropship's hull. What's wrong now?"

The man his radio insisted was named Zac yanked the talk-box out of his greasy belt.

"What's wrong? WRONG?! Whoever repaired this corridor's rigging used an entirely

different set of cabling, different density and load completely, and used couplers and converters

to make them fit! The fool practically used bootlaces to make it work! How in PYRE did it last

THIS long?!"

"Awww, is that all? From your language I figured the lines were leaking gamma or somethin.

Carry on man, I'm going for some coffee." With a quiet electronic burp, the talk-box fell silent.

Zac began a new streak of cursing, jamming the little communicator back into his belt. As he

wormed his thick, scarred arm deeper into the moist entrails of the ship, Zac made a promise to

himself. If he ever met the man who'd made this repair, he'd learn how the idiot did it, then toss

'im out the nearest airlock.

Grizz pulled his old frayed earphones off of his head and hung them neatly on the peg above

the com unit. As expected, they slid right off again into his lap as the peg shifted in its hole.

Shrugging, Grizz stood up and let the 'phones clatter to the floor.

"Floor's cleaner'n the peg anyways." He murmured, clattering across the deck plating in his

oversized boots.

Turning a corner, Grizz sighted his destination. A plastic tube, hanging down a couple feet

from the ceiling, where its length was bracketed into place, and ran back deeper into the ship.

Lifting his mug and twisting the valve on the tube, Grizz licked his dry lips in anticipation. The

last few drops, black as sin, pattered into the cup and Grizz finished clamping off the tube again.

Whistling tunelessly on his noisy journey back to his station, the little man congratulated himself

once again for running that line from the galley. What original thinking! What genius! What a

waste of time and effort, the Cap would tell him. Grizz chuckled, locking his cup into a bracket

at his station and slipping his earphones back on. Zac was still cursing, and the rest of Grizz's

board was dim from inactivity. His face splitting in a grin, Grizz kicked his booted feet up onto a

half-assembled equipment cabinet. Yessiree, what a job!

On the bridge, forward of the comm shack, Captain Starre shook his head from side to side,

eyes shut in mock-agony.

"This...this is not a crew. This is a club for boys in men's bodies who never found a good

woman to whip them into shape. Is that about it, sweet?" Swiveling in his chair, the Captain

grinned at his mate Cathryn. Cath was standing erect, eyes flicking over the odd-dozen screens

stacked at her station like glowing ice-cubes. She turned to look over her shoulder at the long-

haired, silk-clad man who styled himself captain, and said the safest thing she could think of.

"Hmmm? What was that, hon?"

Jason waved his hand in a negligant gesture, chuckling.

"Nothing, nothing. How's Zac coming? Has he filed a recent ETC?"

Cath's lips twitched with good humor.

"Since when have you known that man to file *anything?* I'll tell Grizz to ask him. The way

it sounds on the com, I don't want him annoyed with me!"

Chuckling, Jason nodded, before turning back to his own work. The sheer amount of data

entry involved when a find this significant was made was staggering, and as Cathy picked up her

mic, she could only pity the man. What must it be like for someone who couldn't sit still or keep

quiet for ten consecutive minutes, to fill out several hundred screens of forms? Inwardly

shuddering, she flicked on her mic.

"Grizz?"

When Zac trudged through the com center on his way to quarters, he noted a soundly

sleeping Grizz propped comfortably at his station. A tinny, outraged voice rumbled from the

equipment, apparently attempting to raise the small operator. Zac dropped his load of

equipment pouches and gear bags, probably denting the deck plates, and delicately flicked a

switch with a meaty finger.

"Keep it down Exec, Grizz's sleepin. Can I help ya?"

Zac realized with surprise that he was only half-joking. Grizz was his lifeline, and somehow

he'd grown to like the half-pint squeaker. Responding with relief that she'd raised anyone at all,

Cathryn addressed him.

"Oh! Zac... Ah, Captain wants to know how much longer it'll be before we can board."

"I'm done. If we can't get the enviromental systems workin again now, I doubt it can be

done. And we both know what that means."

Zac grinned as he heard the supressed groan at the other end. What no enviroment meant

was: enviroment suits and all the bulky, clumsy, fardlin equipment that went with 'em. When

Cathryn composed herself, she resumed speaking.

"Let's hope it won't come to that. Alright, take Grizz and yourself to bed and get a few

cycles rest. Captain and I will do the same, then we can get to work at last! G'night fellas."

Zac toggled the switch again, scooped up the snoring Grizz with one arm, and loaded his

other with all his gear. Grunting with the load, he staggered down a couple corridors and into the

lift. Three minutes later, Grizz was tucked into his bunk and Zac was headed for his, minus the

various bags of repair equipment. As he slid beneath the cool sheets, hot head hitting the bundle

of tapestry that served at the moment for a pillow, Zac let himself feel a glow of pride. No one in

this quadrant but him could've accomplished what he had, and despite his earlier pessimism with

Cath, he was certain the system would work now. Yes...tomorrow they'd finally get an idea of

what return they could hope for from this take.

After tossing and turning for twenty minutes or so, Zac heaved a sigh. Maybe if he went

back over the events of that past three days, he'd bore himself to sleep...

Captain Starre let out a whoop as his grinning executive officer handed over the data pad.

He depressed the ship-wide com, cleared his throat, and made his announcement.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have sighted a ship! Drifting without, it seems, power, it will pass

right through the primary traffic lane of this system unless we stop it. Do we all remember what

it is we call such dead ships?"

Jason couldn't hear their response, but guessed it had been a gleeful chorus of "SALVAGE!"

"Now, the ship is of human origin, but is quite old. And old ships are large ships, I think we

all know. There may be problems besides the obvious one: How will we go about moving her?

Let us hope its propulsion systems are intact. Zac, come see me on the bridge please. Grizz,

make sure your equipment is ready so you may assist our illustrious engineer. Captain out."

Zac smiled, the excitement of a new find still sparkling in the forefront of his mind. Then he'd

been briefed by the Captain...

Jason Starre tended to pace back and forth when he was giving a brief, a habit that amused

more than annoyed the huge engineer. Waving his hands in the air and stabbing fingers to prove

points and underline a task's importance, the Captain was entertaining today indeed!

"...and seal every compartment behind you as you go. Wear a suit! Wear one unless the entire

crew deems it unnecessary and detrimental to your task. Understood, officer?"

Zac nodded, having listened to the most important bits at least. No doubt the Cap would have

everything he'd just gone over on a data pa--

"Here is the pad with your orders on it, so you will not forget anything. Already we have

docked, and readings indicate that at least the airlock contains an enviroment. Good luck!"

The Captain saluted his officer, then plopped back into his command chair to monitor the

interaction of his ship and the great prize he'd attached to.

Chuckling and cracking his knuckles unfashionably, Zac made his way to his equipment

lockers. Finally a bit of excitement!

Exhasparated with himself, Zac groaned into his makeshift pillow. He was wider awake now

than he had been!

'Nothing for it...guess I'll just lie here an think 'bout what we might find on this antique...'

Inventory lists, fuzzy mental images of valuables, and visions of exotic alien wealth danced

briefly in the man's thick skull...briefly, because Zac's pessimistic side began interrupting. Lists

of ore loads, rich vacuum-sealed silks and other fabrics were all suddenly mixed with

hopelessly obsolete computer components and dusty (and otherwise empty) cargo bays...

"That's IT!" He muttered, jerking his feet off his bunk.

THUD-THUD

'Oops...went to bed with my boots on again...' Zac winced as Grizz's snoring faltered a

moment. Moving more carefully, Zac grabbed up his coverall and as many bags of gear as he

could before slipping outside. Now, for such a large man...he made even more noise than one

might imagine. Nevertheless, Grizz slept on like an inert fuel brick. Chuckling to himself, Zac

trotted down the dimly-lit corridors towards the docking tube.

'Now...where did I stow my enviroment suit...?'

Floating...lost in an ocean of black...so cold and clean...clean? Dead. Quiet too...silence...

reigning supreme over--BLAZZZZZZZZT! BLAZZZZZZZZZT!!

"What the fardlin pyre?!!" Cathryn's eyes snapped open to see the obnoxious alarm board

buzzing, flashing and rocking on the deck plates. Rising stiffly from her lotus position on the

floor, and mentally promising her inner peace some work tomorrow, the Exec stalked over to

her board with a gleam in her eye.

A horrendous bash of frustrated flesh on metal startled Jason Starre from his catnap.

Precariously balanced as he was in his tilted chair and desk lip, this abrupt movement destroyed

the awkward (but undoubtedly comfortable) contortion. In other words, Jason landed on his butt

with yet another loud thud.

Ship sensors registered the noise, and the main computer began to

wonder if it should file another transfer request. Working with organics like these couldn't be

healthy for a logical, efficient machine like itself.

"Cath? Are you okay?" He managed, wincing at the bruises-to-be on his posterior.

"Fine. Juuuuuust fine Captain. But Zac I'm not sure about. Some mental wires must've gotten

crossed, sir, 'cuz he's in the other ship."

Jason scratched his head with one hand, pulling himself up off the floor with the other.

"Well...okay. I suppose we can all skip sleep to see what our good friend is thinking of.

Could you please see if you can raise him, dear Cathryn?"

Jason moved into the bridge as he spoke, using the confident stride he believed inspired faith

among the crew. Cathryn was careful to conceal her smirk.

"Ummm...been trying. Grizz might've left the transmission booster off when he fell asleep. I'll

get him up." She pushed back her chair on its track, and sprang from the room like a hunting

tigress. Jason shook his head, falling backwards into his plush chair.

"I am glad I am not Grizz at this moment."

A blue-white beam swept over the dim shape of the airlock's inner door, eerily reflecting back

from something beyond the tiny triplex viewing port. No one was generous enough to call the

peep hole a window... Zac let his equipment sag from his padded shoulders, breath hissing softly

inside his helmet.

"Now...I've wired the ship's computer into the corridor's mess of cables. Let's see if there's

power in this old gel!"

Zac, talking to himself on the job as usual, began clumsily keying in commands on his wrist

pad. Soon, holograms painted the inside of his faceplate, numbers and diagrams flashing by as

fast as he could absorb them. At last, the computer compiled all that information to create a

single diagram of the ship and its inner workings. Several sections were green...power and

enviroment both! Others however, mostly in engineering and the crew quarters, were glowing

dull reds and oranges.

"Computer, query. Are the decompressed sections of the ship sealed off from the safe ones?"

"Please rephrase. I have not yet been programmed with--"

Zac blinked three times to cancel his verbal request, scowling. Couldn't the VoiceRecognition

system work once, just once for pity's sake?! No, of course not. Shaking his head woefully, he

laboriously punched in the query via his pad. As new numbers blinked and an overlay appeared

over the first diagram, a grin spread across Zac's face once more.

Cathryn let out a yelp, simple surprise shading into delight. Swiveling away from her screens,

she faced the disheveled and unshaven Captain.

"Sir! I have a readout on the ship's interior. Zac patched into the system from the corridor's

wiring, and by some miracle, that was intact enough to get me into the main computer. Let's

see..."

Turning back around and sticking her tongue between her teeth, the statuesque Exec

tippy-tap-tapped at her keyboard. Jason watched the main screen flicker reluctantly to life.

Expanding from a green pinpoint, a cross-section view of their prize appeared, rotating until it

locked into position. A bright blip near the skin of the ship puzzled him for a moment, until

Cathryn helpfully labeled it 'Zac.' Moving steadily inwards, only through green zones, the

Zac-blip made a straight a beeline as it could for the bridge. Both 'senior officers' jumped at a

blast of static from the bridge speakers, followed by Grizz's groggy voice.

"I got him now chief. He's fine, just couldn't sleep. Can you believe this guy? Anyways, he

says it's mostly the crew quarters and engine compartments that're unsafe. He's almost to the

bridge...

"Are there any bodies? Perhaps some loose cargo? Signs of a struggle or a fight?" Jason

puzzled aloud more than he directed his words to grizz, but the com officer relayed the questions

anyways.

"Zac says he saw a few scorch marks and a bit of chemical foam. There might've been a fire...

but only in one portion of the ship. They must've sealed that part off in time. No cargo yet, sorry

Captain, and I'd bet the bodies are long since incinerated and sprinkled on the hydroponic beds...

At least in the sections where the enviroment systems work."

Cathryn wrinkled her nose at the un-subtle reminder of what nurtured their own hydoponic

gardens. Captain Starre appeared nonplussed, stroking his chin and staring at the screen.

"I do not know if a ship of this age would have such a system... Well. Grizz, please ask Zac to

slap a hackit on the main computer and return here. We have already made significant progress

and the ship is not going anywhere."

Jason leaned back in his chair, still looking vaguely puzzled, as Grizz acknowledged. Not

speaking a word, the captain stared passively at the screen before him, waiting for Grizz to patch

the two ships' computers together. Only moments later, a series of cheerful bleeps emanating

from the console announced completion of the link. Data began flowing from the dead ship's

system into the Orion's main computer, flickering across screens like a machine version of

REM. Neither Cathryn or Jake noticed the Zac blip making a circuit of the bridge, then moving

further off into the ship...

Grizz looked forlornly at his sticky mug, wishing he dared leave Zac unmonitored long

enough to get some brew. But Grizz exercised his rarely-used sense of duty, knowing Zac could

get into serious trouble in the bowels of the old ship. Right now, the burly engineer was giving a

running monologue on what he saw, moving towards the galley. According to the map the bridge

was beaming down to him, Grizz figured Zac would need to pass through the galley to get at the

cargo bays.

"This area looks clean enough. No scorch marks like the ones in the corridors; heck, even the

carpet's clean. Cold though in here, six degrees Celsius or so. Here's the galley doors." Grizz

heard the squeak of the double doors being shoved open. "Galley's clean too, but I can see into

the kitchen area, and the cupboards are all open...stripped bare. What could that mean? That the

crew bailed out? Or pirates boarded them?" Grizz pictured Zac standing in the middle of the

galley, scratching the top of his helmet, and snorted.

"Grizz? Ask Zac to head for the cargo bays, would you?" Starre's voice startled the comm

officer, but Grizz recovered quickly enough and scooped up the mic.

"He's way ahead of you, boss. Only a few steps from bay one as we speak. Didja find anything

in the computer's files?" After a brief pause, Cathryn responded.

"It's very strange, and ambiguous, but there were cargo manifests in the files, yes." Grizz

scratched his head himself while he thought about that, keeping an idle eye on the map of the

derelict and his friend's little icon.

Zac shambled around tables and gleaming counters in the galley to reach the exit on the far

side. His map indicated an orange zone on the other side of the door, which could mean anything

from a pressure-leak to the failure of one of the life support elements. Red meant hull breaches,

and full life support failure. Prepared for both with his enviroment suit, Grizz pushed open the

exit door.

"It's dark. Great." Slapping pressure-sensors on his shoulders, wrists and helmet to activate

the powerful lamps installed there, Grizz splashed light of several wavelengths around the

chamber. This was merely an anteroom, with hatches on the other walls leading to the three

cargo bays.

"Cap'n says to try bay two first, Zac. Says there's something in there called a 'aberrant mineral

form' in there. Ambiguous snarks, these folks, eh?" Zac just chuckled, and stumped across the

room to the opposite wall. Mindful of the possible hazards of encountering this 'abberant

mineral,' Zac checked all his instruments and scanners before even starting the unlocking cycle.

"Radiation meter's clear, UV and infared show nada, so I'm going ahead." One thickly-gloved

hand wrapped around the release lever, Zac keyed in the code his HUD displayed for him. This

old security was no match for the expensive code-breaking software Starre's crew utilized. When

the keypad winked green at him, he tugged on the handle. Nothing happened.

"Try twisting it instead." Grizz suggested when Zac growled threats at the lock. Zac pushed

up, and the lever clanked loosely. Pushing down met with resistance, and with a grin, Zac leaned

all his weight into it... A hollow boom, followed by a loud metallic clank accompanied the

clockwise rotation of the handle. Another boom sounded when the lever quit turning. Zac tugged

on the lever again the way he had the first time, and was rewarded with a hissing noise of

pressure equalizing.