Chapter 1
“Captain, we have something on sensors.” Berg said as he punched in some commands, his bushy eyebrows drawn down low over his eyes.
“And?” Sara leaned forward in her captain’s chair, her curiosity piqued. “Is it a ship?” They hadn’t found much to scavenge this week, and she knew the crew was antsy for a good find.
"Not sure yet, but it could be a debris field. Based on the size, it might be a warship or a space station." He swiveled in his chair to face her. "What would you like to do?"
Steepling her fingers in front of her chin, Sara leaned back in her chair, weighing her options.
She'd been a space farer for three decades and the previous four she'd been a baby living planet side. In her thirty-four years of life, she’d seen the dangers of space. This life was all she knew, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, even if space faring could be more dangerous than living planet side.
"Any visuals?"
Berg shook his head. "Maybe another thirty minutes until we're in visual range."
They were scavengers, plain and simple. They scoured space looking for abandoned or destroyed up ships, gathering whatever they could use or sell.
Often times, they would encounter bodies of unfortunate souls.
But bodies didn't bring in credits so they stepped over those lost souls.
Space wasn't a place for kind people. One misstep and it could very well be your life.
Sara cracked her neck from side to side.
"Okay. We'll go check it out but ensure whoever blew this ship up isn't lurking nearby.
Then drop us out of subspace and let the crew know we finally have what might be a decent scavenge ahead of us.
" Excitement bubbled up inside her. Though she trusted her crew not to revolt against her during a dry spell, she knew this would help to boost morale.
"Aye, Captain." Berg turned back to his console, fingers dancing over the screens before him with years of practice under his belt. "You heard her, Doug, guide us toward the debris field."
Doug flashed a grin as he plotted the course. "Wonder what it was." He mused. “By the looks of the debris pattern it could have been a large ship. Maybe someone who encountered a Sri’thaen warship?
“Our this far?” Berg rolled with eyes with a snort. “Sri’thaen’s aren’t out this far.”
"I'm more curious if there was anything interesting onboard." Cat piped up from her station at the weapons console. Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of a good scavenge ahead of them.
Sara glanced over at Cat, who’d become an indispensable part of her life.
She'd picked Cat up on a prison planet, of all places. The woman was a force to behold, who even held her own against a Vrak’rir, throwing the poor alien into a chokehold.
Something Sara would never forget. Now Sara knew that the Vrak’rir’s blue skin turned grey when they lacked proper oxygen.
Then again, it didn't surprise Sara at her friend’s incredible strength, since Cat was half Daen'su.
There'd been a couple of fights in Sara's life where she could've benefitted from some alien genetics.
"Let's suit up some of the crew.” Sara instructed her bridge.
“Once we're in position, I want to grab what we can find and then get out of here. There’s no reason for us to overstay our welcome.
" Sara glanced around the bridge to see her crew nodding their heads in agreement of her words. Then she let her eyes fixate on the main screen where the drifting wreckage lazily swirled around the vacuum of space. She didn’t want to be around when this massive amount of wreckage attracted more scavengers.
"Should I join them?" Doug asked, as he spun around in his chair as he addressed her, the eagerness in his voice shining through.
Sara leaned back as she eyed him, seeing the eagerness burning bright in his eyes.
Doug was their best scavenger, possessing a great knack for discovering valuables in a heap of metal.
"Of course, you're our best scavenger. Just remember to keep a sharp eye out for anything unwanted. We still don’t know what happened here.
There could still be dangers lurking in the wreckage. "
“Understood, Captain.” Doug smiled as he leapt from his seat and rushed to the lift, ready to prep for the upcoming scavenge.
Sara smirked as she watched the lift doors close, carrying him down to the shuttle bay where they managed most of their scavenge hauls.
She felt certain Doug would scavenge even if she didn’t pay him.
The thrill and rewards of scavenging outweighed anything else, even the potential lethal consequences.
"Berg keeps us ready to get the hell out of dodge, and Cat, I want continuous sweeps of the immediate area. No surprises while we have men off the ship."
"Always, Captain." Cat replied, as she turned back to the console, her fingers dancing lightly over the controls. The blueish glow of the console screen flickered over her face, highlighting the concentration lines across her face.
Unease prickled at the back of Sara’s neck, like a plasma charge ready to be dispelled.
She felt the weight of her crew’s safety on her.
As the captain, she needed to ensure their safety while they picked at a scavenge find.
She wanted nothing more than to call her men back and get out of here at full speed, but without a good reason she'd feel like a fool to turn tail.
"Captain, all of us are suited up and ready to head out." Doug's voice crackled through the speakers on the bridge. Sara could easily imagine the smirk of excitement on his face as he thought of the potential hiccups they might run into and the thrill of seeing what was out there.
"Let me know if you run into any trouble. Otherwise, we'll keep our eyes peeled up here."
"Rodger that." Doug responded, the sound of metal boots clinking against the floor of the ship as he and the crew readied themselves.
"Oh, and Doug,” Sara added, “I want fifteen minute updates." The feeling of unease still gnawed at her threatening to send her flying up from her captain's chair. Tapping a finger against the armrest of her chair, she tried to find a different outlet for her nerves.
"Rodger that." Doug’s voice steady, helping to calm some of her jitters.
"Something wrong, Captain?" Berg asked as he shifted in his chair, leaning forward slightly, his eyes flicked over to hers. His eyebrows knitted, as his expression shifted from one of focus to one of concern.
"Just a feeling." Sara leaned on one of her armrests, her gaze locked onto the debris field floating around in front of them.
If she played some classical music, it would almost look like a ballet of junk.
But it was less beautiful when she thought of the life that had probably been lost. Whatever happened here had been a violent destruction.
"Sometimes a gut can be just as good as a sensor at detecting something." Cat commented, her gaze unwavering on the screen in front of her, the console lights flickering across her face.
"Learn that in prison?" Berg asked, a smirk dancing across his lips, teasing Cat in an attempt to lighten the mood on the bridge.
"Yeah." Cat said flatly. "Trusting my gut in prison saved my life on multiple occasions. You learn quickly how to read people and situations when you’re surrounded by blood thirsty people."
“Damn straight.” Sara nodded her head in agreement. “You were on one of the worst prisons I know of. More people die than live out their sentences.” She looked back at Cat, "You don't see anything on the scanners?"
Cat slowly shook her head as her eyes continued to stay glued to the console in front of her. "No anomalies, Captain, but like we all know silence can be one of the loudest warnings.”
"Then we stay. It's a sense of unease, not a feeling of immediate danger. Maybe more a sense of... something to come." Sara tried to describe it to them.
"Probably just the ghosts of these people who died." Berg offered unhelpfully. “Let’s hope whatever got them doesn’t bite us.”
“Thanks." Cat growled, her eyes narrowing into slits on Berg. "Now I have to worry about ghosts attaching themselves to me."
Berg chuckled softly as he swiveled around in his chair, then leaned back, folding his hands in front of his abdomen. "A prison-hardened woman like yourself can't possibly believe in ghosts." His tone went teasing, but they all knew that was all it was. They were like a mismatched family.
"You'd be surprised by the shit I've seen." Cat snapped back at Berg, each word laced with the past horrors she must have experience while imprisoned. "Ghosts wouldn't surprise me." Her eyes flicked towards the viewscreen, where the debris floated among the inky void of space.
"Maybe let's switch topics." Sara suggested, her voice barely above a whisper, as goose bumps spread over her skin as if ghostly fingers crawled along her arms. She’s have some trouble sleeping tonight.
"Don't like ghosts, Captain?" Berg asked, his smirk widening into a grim. When she scowled at him, he chuckled as he turned back around to his console.
"And no, I don't like the idea of ghosts." Sara replied as a shiver rippled over her. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself. "Maybe we should say a prayer before we leave."
Cat snorted. "Do you know any prayers?" Her brow lifted skeptically as a flicker of amusement shifted in her eyes.
"No. But someone on board probably does." Sara reasoned.
Both Cat and Berg snorted in unison.
"You've hired us." Cat shook her head. "You know no one here is religious."
"It doesn't need to be anything real.” Sara countered with a shrug. “Just well wishes for the dead. Couldn't hurt." She didn’t want to be one of those ships with tethered spirits moaning through the halls. Though the non-believers said it was just the hull adjusting to the effects of space.