She couldn’t find her shoes, so she had no choice but to walk the deck barefoot. The floor was cold, the air wet and bitter. The Star of Argon had never been dead silent before, even when dry-docked on Galli. The silence was deafening, triggering dormant survival instincts that had evolved to warn against nearby predators waiting to take one by surprise.  

      Dithy’s eyes darted back and forth, her attention focused for the smallest sign of life. They all listened keenly, trying to ascertain what had transpired during their long sojourn below decks. The hallways were dark. Each footstep disturbed the silence, making them feel like intruders on their own ship. Skid marks decorated the floor panels, and oily smears covered the walls. Some of them almost looked like hand prints.

      “This doesn’t look good,” Dithy was the first to break the silence. She regretted speaking the moment the words slipped from her lips. “I mean, it obviously doesn’t look good but…I’ll just be quiet now.”

      “Yes, please be quiet. We have no idea what happened?” Rise lead the way down the hall. He seemed tense. 

      Even the terminals by the doors were broken, or drained of all power. Dithy desperately wanted to conjure a diagnostic report, or something to analyze the status of the ship. Deep down she feared they had all become the victim of pirate’s, by why would they leave the ship? Another question on her mind was why they would alter the artificial gravity. It made more sense for them to simply strip the reactor, if that was their prize, and leave the leftovers to drift in the void. If they were the victims of raiders, they must’ve been a small band to not be able to seize the ship itself as a prize. 

      Where is the crew? Where are the passengers? Dithy eyed each room for any sign of life. There were plenty of signs of struggle, but each room had turned up empty. They each offered the same disquiet atmosphere of the rest of the ship.

      Dithy was nervous, and grew more uncomfortable as her bare feet stepped over pieces of luggage and loose samples of gear. Small bundles of wire littered the floor, along with broken data pads, and articles of paper. 

      Wishing she had on a pair of shoes, Dithy looked up at Rise who was only clothed from the waist down. He had given his vest to Journey, who had lost her uniform amid the clutter of their hideout. Bare chested, his broad shoulders and muscular frame drew her attention away from all the glaring issues around them.

      Dithy’s training as an engineer nudged to the surface. Although she would rather ignore such instincts, it was hard not to study the scratch marks along the door controls, and broken pipes sticking from exposed panels. The only thing that was working was the artificial gravity, which seemed to weigh them down with each step. She calculated it must’ve been increased by at least two percent, just enough to notice without becoming too much of a hindrance. 

      Slowly they explored the engineering deck. The loss of each of her fellow engineers sent a shiver down her spine. There were just over thirty others working in this area of the ship, and all of them were absent. Dithy couldn’t help but wonder when they had last seen them?

      She looked over at Melie, who seemed curiously unnerved. The past several days were a blur, but Dithy could’ve sworn that Melie had enjoyed the company of the other engineer’s at least a day ago. Maybe two? 

      Resigned to not finding anything else, Rise decided it was best to try and explore the rest of the ship. They would make their way toward the bridge, and hopefully find someone on the way. It seemed logical, which was something only he was capable of. If it were up to Dithy, she would’ve been happy for them to withdraw to her hidden sanctuary. Sharing their body warmth, and bountiful sustenance, they could comfort one another until rescue eventually arrived. 

      They ventured through the cargo areas in search of anyone. Like before it was empty, and devoid of life. It wasn’t until they reached the mid-section that they knew something was truly wrong. All the portside windows were blocked, and all the rooms were either open or had their doors dented inward. Tools, gear, and a mismatch of items cluttered the floor along key staging areas, such as elevators and stairways. The transit system along the spine of the ship was inoperable, forcing them to continue their search for several hours. 

      Eventually Dithy felt it necessary to find a store room. The air was getting colder, and even their augmented bodies couldn’t withstand the cold. What was worse, was that Rise was started to shiver. Dithy wished she cuddle alongside him, to share her body heat. She supposed they could find an empty room and use blankets, and any other clothes left behind. 

      That only left the question, where did everybody go?

      “We have a choice?” Rise spoke calmly. They had found themselves in a small chamber in an older section of the ship. Chairs were anchored to the wall, a relic of when the Star of Argon served as a deep space mining vessel. Overhead lumens still dulled with emergency power, they wouldn’t last much longer. They had followed what looked like footsteps, hoping to eventually discover other passengers. 

      Journey clutched onto Dithy’s arm, her breasts squeezing against a firm bicep. Dithy was starting to enjoy the woman’s comfort, she was easy to please and somewhat remorseful for her earlier transgressions. She just needed a firm hand at the wheel, Dithy had come to discover. 

      “We either turn around and try the service tunnels. This is if we want to make it close to the bridge before we pass out from exhaustion.” Rise’s voice was dry, making Dithy want to offer him one of her budding nipples for nourishment. “Or we keep following these tracks, in hopes they’ll eventually lead us somewhere. But I’ll be honest, I’ve never been to this part of the ship.” 

      “Neither have I,” Dithy echoed his concern.

      “I vote bridge,” Melie sounded chipper.

      Journey looked back and forth, “I’ll vote for whatever Dithy wants to do.”

      Dithy just sighed to herself. She didn’t want to think, thinking was hard. Begrudgingly, she swayed back and forth, trying to ignore the growing pain in her chest, while trying to think logically. A few seconds passed by, her thoughts wondered between the rational, and the salacious. 

      “Well, sweet heart?” Rise looked over at Dithy. 

      Her eyes glommed onto the hair of his chest, she wanted to rub her cheeks in it. Dithy swallowed, reached over to stroke Journey’s golden hair, and sighed. “Lets keep following the signs of survivors. At least for a little while longer.”

      “Agreed love,” Rise smiled. 

      Carefully they continued following the emergency lights until they discovered a hand torch, and were able to better trace the signs of possible footsteps. Bullet casings were spotted here and there, along with the occasional armor piece or bloody smear. It was enough to keep them all on edge, and starting to regret their decision.

      It wasn’t until they came upon a crossroad that they discovered a soldier, belonging to the Rookson Mercenary Company, in full combat gear laying dead on the floor. His weapon was still in hand, along with what looked like a screw driver in his other. The armor was chipped, and cracked in a number of places, but still retained a modicum of its former resiliency. 

      The emblem of Lora Rook remained unharmed on his shoulder pauldron, but his rank engravings were beyond recognition. His face, or her face, was caved in so that it was impossible to discern who they might’ve been. The armor covered the soldiers body so that no external features were recognizable, only internal ones from where damage had been done.

      “Well….shit.” They all said the same thing at once, except for Melie who remained as silent as the grave.