Chapter Three

“The Stars are so beautiful. I’ll never get tired of their beauty.” You’ve always felt more at home up here in the Stars than you did anywhere else. You idly wonder if maybe having been born in deep space may have been a contributing factor. Silently you shrug your shoulders.

“They are simply remarkable! Stars are made of very hot gas, which mostly contains Hydrogen and Helium. Which by the way, are two of the lightest elements. They--”

“Shine by burning Hydrogen...we know. Thanks for the update.” Helena cuts in with an irritated sigh. You elbow Helena in the ribs.

“Be nice to the Comms guy.”

Helena rolls her eyes. “Tell him to stop all that Science talk! I don’t want to die in a busted up ship, listening to how Stars are made or whatever.” Helena huffed and crossed her arms. Her armor groaned with the movement.

“I hate this armour. It’s always so scratchy and hardly fits right.” The bodysuits provided were designed for maneuverability. The armour plated vests tend to bog down that concept with odd attachments and sometimes odd weight distribution, but you’ve become accustomed to the weight.

“They don’t even fit properly, least not where it should.” Helena says, releasing the straps, giving her ample chest room to breath. Your eyes were riveted to the exposed skin along her collar, where below, the teasing lines of her cleavage peaked out.

Sorn interjects into our personal conversation bubble, “What fits properly? Maybe I can make some adjustments---” Helena shuts him down with a withering glare, causing you to cover your mouth with the back of your hand stifling a laugh. The thing about helena that most don’t understand is that she comes off as bubbly and easy to engage, that’s the allure. Like a Black Widow, she draws you in unknowingly. She’s beyond gorgeous and on more than one occasion you’ve fantasized about her, but she disarms you with her smile. Her glittering eyes that hold so much passion and promise. However, like some say, looks can be deceiving. Her bite is worse than her bark.

“Keep your grabby hands to yourself!” Sorn looks at his hands in confusion and looks at Helena with a dumbfounded face.

“Leave him be, Helena. Stop teasing the poor guy. Sorn, is it?” You ask.

Sorns eyes light up instantly, like someone who finally found some long forgotten lost treasure. His entire demeanor changed to a happy curiosity.

“Oh, yes. I’m Sorn and I know you are Nellita. I’ve heard so much about you!” His excitement is palpable from where you’re sitting.

Helena turns to you with a Cheshire grin, her eyes twinkling with humor, “Looks like you’ve got another fan boy.” She jerks her head in Sorns direction.

You slap Helena’s arm good naturedly and leaned in to whisper, “ I do not have fan-boys! And you better not start that stupid rumor! I really don’t need men hitting on me, frankly it makes my skin crawl.”

Helena’s warm breath tickled your ear as she leaned in further, whispering seductively. The thundering beating of your heart echoed in your ears. You swallow the lump in your throat, Helena’s words teasing your skin, sending a warmth building in your belly.

“You ‘Need’ something, that’s for sure. Maybe you do need something to ‘Crawl’ all over you…” Helena’s voice was low, it wrapped itself around me, like always, making you feel like the most amazing thing in all of existence.

You scrunch your face like you just bit into something sour and try to look appalled,

“We got more important things to talk about rather than my love life and things that ‘Crawl’!”

The cabin of the Ferrin was quiet and that’s when you noticed everyone was looking at you, minus the Captain since he’s with the Pilot. “Seems I'm not the only one curious about your love life.” She laughed and waved her hand at the audience.

“Well, talk about something else!” You slumped in your seat with a huff.

Just then the cabin lights went dark. The only source of light was a flashing red overhead light, signaling that we’re getting closer to our objective. Everyone sat back in their seats and double checked their gear.

You finger the handle on the knife, Helena gave you and also double checked your thigh blaster. The Ferrin began to shake, a sure sign that we were coming in for a landing on the Civilian Vessel.

“Vessel coming in, Starboard side!” The Pilot’s voice came across the cabin through the receivers built on the inside of the upper section of the armor plates. Everyone looked outside the window and there she was. The S.O.S. call came from the ship in the distance, shrouded in darkness, flashes of light sparked through some of the windows from electrical malfunction. Slowly you can feel the adrenaline spike as the Ferrin approached for landing.

“It doesn’t look like it was attacked. Looks perfectly normal.” Sorns says from over your shoulder.

You squint at the approaching Behemoth. It’s dark metal rusted in various spots from age and lack of attention and care. “Poor Girl, she looks horrible and badly maintained from the outside.” Your fingers twitch, the urgency, a deep seated need to fix her up thrummed through your veins.

“Can you believe that this shit houses a luxurious interior built with all the love and attention that people with money crave.” Helena says. You nod with your assessment, your brows furrowing.

It’s not the first time you’ve heard of industries taking better care of the interior, rather than the functionality and maintenance of the outside. Sure, basic maintenance just to keep the gears moving, but that’s it. In fact, you’d bet your salary, as meager as it is, that these companies that own these Vessels would rather spend money on a new ornament, than the care of a faulty engine, as long as they had another running. Arrogance of the Rich and Powerful.

A sigh escaped your lips. That’s probably what happened. The ship is ill cared for and now it’s acting out, pleading for help. “The poor girl. No wonder she stopped working on them.”

“What do you mean?” Sorn asks, one brow and the rest of him covered in darkness and shades of reds. The warning lights flashes, reflecting off his glasses, obscuring his eyes.

Helena leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “You just had to ask…”

How anyone can neglect the care of a Spaceship and not really understand the importance of something that should be so fundamental, yet always fails to enter some thick skulls.

“First, think about the environment we are in. Between the solar radiation, and the Atmospheric composition, oh and don’t forget the debris that we fly through on a daily basis. What do you think happens when the ship isn’t cared for? It develops weak spots,---” Closing your eyes, taking a deep breath, feeling your heart slow down, “--And weak spots? Those could cause a breach.”

You leaned forwards and motion, Sorn with the crook of your finger. He leaned as far as he could in his safety seat restraints, turned his ear slightly towards you in response.

“Don’t hold your breath, the loss of external pressure would cause the gas inside your lungs to expand and your lungs will rupture.” Sorn gulps, a bead of sweat slowly trickled down his cheek, highlighted by the flashing lights that it looked like a lightning bug. A slow mischievous, almost feline like, smile spread across your face. Sensing and reveling in his discomfort, you steamed on ahead, “Any saliva on your tongue will start boiling, your skin will expand, but the human body can stretch and so at least you wouldn’t have to worry about...bursting.”