Digital Galaxies

“Took your time,” Warren commented as we reappeared in our chairs, first me and then Cerri a second later. He paused as she materialised, face flushing fast when she met my cheeky smile. “You okay Cerri?”

“Yup. Yes. Absolutely,” she blurted quickly, pretending to mess with one of her screens. “What’s going on? Where did everyone go?”

“The drones didn’t find anything scary, so everyone’s gone to suit up,” he explained, pointing to the drone feeds that were still up on the main display.

Straight away my subconscious picked something up, something was off about the images on screen. Try as I might though, I couldn’t figure it out. What was I not recognising?

“Cerri?” I asked quietly, getting out of my seat to get a closer look at the screen. “Do you see anything wrong with that picture? With all of the drone feeds?”

“No…” she replied, staring at the same screen now. “Not that I can tell at a glance.”

“I’m picking up on something but I don’t know what it is,” I said slowly, trying to get my brain to just work.

The interior of the ancient ship was pretty damned familiar, if a little smoother in its construction. There were still visible panels on the walls where I assumed a mechanic could get access to things, as well as light fittings on the ceiling and all that. It actually reminded me of the interior of a ship from one of the old star trek films, all pretty and white and clinical. Quite a contrast to the carbon-black exterior.

Well, except that it was lit by the lights on our small drones and there was the detritus of battle everywhere. Burn marks and projectile holes littered the white panels while discarded objects lay scattered across the camera feeds, hanging in zero gravity like a single frame captured of a whirlwind.

“Roger, David, and Ed are already getting suited up,” Warren said anxiously. “Probably best to warn them that your intuition is picking something up.”

“No Gloria?” Cerri asked.

Warren shook his head. “Nah, she went to get a little sleep. Well, that and chat with the Turshen.”

“Interesting,” she murmured, not looking entirely happy about that for some reason.

“I’ll go with them into the ship,” I said after a moment’s thought, turning to leave the bridge.

Cerri caught my arm, worry all over her face. “No, you’re small and squishy. I don’t want you getting hurt!”

Her earnest expression sent a little wave of happiness bouncing around my body. She cared about me getting hurt! Still, she was obviously not thinking properly, because I wasn’t going to be very small or squishy when I went in there.

“I’ll be inside Bundit,” I told her soothingly, pulling her hand off my arm and clasping it. “I’ll be the safest of everyone going in there.”

“No offence to them, but you’re a lot more important to me,” she said quietly, sending my heart into another erratic little fit. If she could stop talking like we were lovers for like two freaking seconds, that would make this whole friend thing so much easier.

I melted under her worried gaze, and sighed, “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“No, no,” she shook her head, eyes widening. “You can go, I guess. Just… be careful, please?”

“I will,” I smiled, squeezing her hand. “And… this is a game Cerri, remember that.”

“I know, but I enjoy playing it with you,” she pouted, taking her hand back from my grip. “Fine, off you go. Don’t make me kill myself so I respawn with you though.”

With a sly little smile, I left the room. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Don’t smile like that!” she called after me, struggling with a rising giggle. “That’s the smile of a little fox who is going to get herself into trouble!”

My smile turned heartfelt as I dashed down towards where I’d left Bundit in the machine shop. Cerri was happy again, and she’d hugged me and… gosh. It was nice.

Honestly, based on what little I knew of romance from TV shows and the like, that could have turned into a months long rift in our friendship. I guess that was how reality differed from stories, people actually talk with each other. Of course… in a story, I’d end up with her instead of friend-zoned.

Bundit was waiting dutifully in the machine shop, already open and ready to accept me. Hopping inside, I ran through all the systems checks, mostly as a force of habit rather than any real need. I couldn’t help but take constant care of the makeshift mech, it was my baby.

With Bundit in working order, I piloted her out and into the main cargo hold, where the gang was just opening the airlock.

“Hey, I’m coming too!” I called, causing them all to turn and stare. “Want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“Got Jason’s weapon attachment he made with you?” Roger asked, glancing down at my bot’s arms.

“Yeah, hidden away in the right arm,” I said, nodding in the pilot’s seat, only to realise he couldn’t see it. I liked being in Bundit, the separation from everyone made talking so much easier. “I also just have a weird feeling about that ship, so I wanted to come help.”

“What sort of weird feeling?” our captain asked, attention firmly on me now.

“Not sure, I think my subconscious has picked up on something and my waking mind hasn’t caught up yet,” I replied, shrugging Bundit’s shoulders.

Roger gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Thank you, stay alert everyone. Let’s get moving.”

Something else clicked in my head, and I reached out to stop him with a mechanical hand. “Hold on, isn’t your leg broken?”

He laughed, giving a nod. “It is, but the suit is taking care of that. Power armour is good like that.”

Now that I looked at them, I was surprised to see that yeah, they were wearing powered space suits. It wasn’t full on power armour though, like he’d said. There wasn’t nearly enough metal plates and actual armour, it was more like a powered exoskeleton had been inserted into your standard soft space suit.

“Still looks very soft to me,” I mused, giving them all a once over. “Let me go first, I think. If we get shot at, I can crouch and be some cover for you all.”

He opened his mouth to object, David and Ed also frowning at the suggestion. “I don’t know…” All three guys had pretty big ‘protect the females’ instincts, which was both sweet and very annoying.

“Come on,” I groaned, throwing my mech arms up in the air. “Let the girl in the armoured mech go first, please?”

David was the one to speak up in my favour, saying, “She has a point. That thing looks like it can take a hit.”

“Fine, fine,” Roger agreed reluctantly. “We kind of need her alive though.”

Oh. Riiiight. Yeah, I was kind of essential to getting back to civilisation, huh? No one else here knew how to fix a ship after all.

Glancing at Ed to see what he thought, I found him staring at my chassis impassively. Guess he was still upset with me. I let out a long sigh, careful to mute my mic before I did so. God, why couldn’t he just be chill? Did he see me like my mech now? A Robot?

Regardless of Ed’s current feelings about me, he dutifully got in the airlock with the rest of us and we prepared to head over.

The airlock cycled to the soundtrack of silent anticipation, each of us more than excited to get our hands dirty exploring an alien hulk. When the doors slid open, I activated Bundit’s thrusters and gently pushed off into the long docking umbilical. The others used the metallic floor of the tube, but I was in a highly mobile and compact mech, so why bother with the slow lumber that walking with magnetic boots required?

There was one thing I wished I had that I lacked, and that was a window. No matter how good the camera and screen setup was, nothing beat staring out into the endless night of space with your own eyes.

Approaching the ship, I was struck by just how massive it was. Sometimes you don’t really get to understand the scale of a thing until you’re right next to it, and let me tell you, when I gently drifted to a stop against the alien airlock, that scale hit me like a truck. God it was massive.

The others came up behind with weapons at the ready, Roger signaling me to pry the door open. The door and hull plating of the ship appeared to be made of some sort of strange metal and ceramic composite, not unlike Bundit’s armour actually, so I was curious to get a look at it later. For now though, I looked for a way to get it open.

It was clear that the primary mechanism for opening the door had been electronic, and now I just had to find the manual lock for it. The interesting part would be if they didn’t have one, or if it was hard to access, implying that their electrical systems were robust enough not to need a manual override.

A quick search of the recessed doorway revealed a panel that could be popped open, along with a socket and separate crank that could be inserted into it to open the door. I grinned at the mechanism and ignored the crank that lay strapped in its cradle, clamping Bundit’s hand over the whole thing. Engaging the motor that controlled my mech’s 360 degree wrist, I pumped power into it and watched.

My eyebrows rose as my poor Bundit strained for a moment, but they fell into a smug smirk when it began to turn. Damn though, looked like the door hadn’t been lubed in a long time, given the torque that had to be applied to get the mechanisms working. Makes sense, obviously, given how old this thing was. Still, death was no excuse for sloppy maintenance!

Bundit’s engines were more than enough to get the job done, and after a minute the door was open and we were ready to enter.

“Alright, I was wrong. Definitely glad we have you along,” Roger commented, nodding in respect. “Good job, Alia.”