Quinns chose one of the back maintenance tunnels that led port-side. Moving through the tunnels on Heli was second nature to him. His feet led the way, while his mind focused his path beyond. He went over his planned route to the MRH Hayes one more time. He had planned it out by cross-checking the four imperial scout schematics he could find on short notice.

Imperial scouts had many redesigns. A small ship with a singular purpose made it a favorite test for designers. He knew ahead of time that the ship would be the MRH Hayes because of Valorie’s warning. The Hayes was a 12th generation ship – very old. That cut the volume of possibilities down to a few. The network was a heck of a place.

He had saved the most reliable schematic into his helmet’s mapping system. He could control the display with the interface over his right ear. Better models worked by tracing eyesight, but they were expensive. Technology might bound forward, but there was always something for those on a budget.

He had the first leg of his journey across the Hayes mapped out on screen by the time he reached the hatch. As he approached, he was hunched over, almost to the point of crawling on all fours. The less critical an access hall was, the smaller it got.

The entrance was a pill-shaped capsule hatch with enough room for one average sized adult. On the opposite side of the capsule, there was a small blurry window. The window was pointless. Too small and thick to make out anything useful details. It only served to remind him of the open space beyond.

And, that was enough for Quinns. He stared into the inky void. He did all his work in the crowded spaces of engineering, crawling through claustrophobic maintenance tunnels. Within such tight walls, Quinns often forgot that beyond the hull, there was nothing. A lot of nothing. Dragging his eyes away from the window, he focused on his task instead.

He double checked the power and air capacity of his suit – all good. Tested the magnetic boot on his left foot – working condition. His right foot had a specialized magnetic add-on he could control the same way he curled his toes. He had modded another magnetic add-on to fit the fingertips of his right arm. The modification process left the pull weaker than the boots, but he was proud of his work. The suit’s seal was intact, protecting him from exposure. He took a deep breath.

“I can do this.” He muttered, taking a second breath. “Not my first spacewalk.” He added for extra assurance. If he could just forget he was sneaking on to an enemy ship, he would be fine. No big deal, right?

He crawled inside the capsule and found the control panel overhead. There were four keys. He needed to hit three of them in sequence to open the door. He thought of them as one: Open, two: I’m sure, and three: Just open already. The fourth key was a bright red panic switch.

He started the sequence, and the entrance slid shut. The last thing he heard beyond his helmet was the hiss of air being drawn back into reserves. The pressure dropped, and gravity fell away. The capsule turned, and the entrance opened once more, this time on the outside of the ship. He hooked into the first tether and peeked out over the edge.

Above him was the docking bridge connecting the two ships. He pulled himself out of the capsule, and the sight on his right mesmerized him, stopping him in his tracks. A planet filled his view. It had a thick atmosphere of milky yellow that swirled gently below. Ahead? The longer he stared, the more the sight dragged him in. Quinns gripped his tether in one hand and the side of the capsule in the other as he fought off vertigo. The sound of his breathing became very important, heavy and loud in his ears. The only sound.

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“Focus.” He muttered. He definitely forgot exactly where he was when he spent all his time tucked away in engineering. He looked up at the docking bridge once more. His boots connected to the surface of the ship, and he was able to stand up straight. Standing on the surface, the bridge was now ahead of him. He walked ahead until he was at the end of his first tether. Secure the second tether, release the first tether, walk, repeat.

He looked over the MRH Hayes as he went. It was Imperial design through and through. Rock solid and imposing. No frills, not even windows. Where it was deemed necessary imperial design preferred camera coverage for surface level security. Compared to windows, cameras were more flexible and left no obvious weak points. Scouts were a different story. They still had no windows, but the surface camera coverage was minimal. The usage and flight capabilities of a scout rarely left them open to boarding. In the fifteenth iteration, cameras were dropped in favor of streamlining the design. With less drag, the imperial scout had the shortest jumps in the galaxy. Quinns reached the end of his tether and hurried to find the next tether point. Secure first tether, release second, walk, repeat.

Quinns focused on the path right ahead of him. He was getting close to the docking bridges extended between the two ships. He needed a plan to get across. The bridges were not designed for travel along the outside. That meant no tether points.

Quinns pulled the latch gun from his belt. It was balanced for low recoil and had a 25-meter cable. A little longer than the bridge itself. He pulled up the scouts schematic on the helmets interface. He had marked a tether point across the bridge. He matched up points on the map with points along the ship, and aimed for where the tether point should be.

As he saw it, this was the first failure point. If he could not get a proper latch, he would have to find another way across. Using only magnetic boots to cross the bridge was possible, but extremely dangerous. Anything could knock him off. He inhaled, readying the latch gun with both hands, left finger on the trigger. He exhaled, focusing the sight on the point in the distance. He fired. There was push back against his hands, but not enough to break the magnetic grip of his boots.

The latch shot across faster than he imagined, the inner cable whipping forth from the barrel. At about 23 meters a ripple traveled down the line, and the cable stopped. He couldn’t see if it had latched, even with the limited zoom his helmet possessed. He pressed the trigger again, and the device began retracting the cable until it grew tight.

“I got something, at least.” He grinned. He gave it a few experimental tugs before releasing his current tether. Another click of the trigger and the latch gun began retracting the wire and pulling him along with it. He was on his way across the gap. The bridge was close enough he could brush his hand across it if he reached. His focus was on the MRH Hayes as it loomed in front of him. The scout ship was classified as a small inter-system ship. After studying other ships, Quinns would say it was downright tiny. Turns out, no ship is tiny compared to a human.

When he was close, he orientated himself and landed feet first. The light vibration of the boots attaching tickled his left foot. He tethered himself to the point and released the latch gun. It finished retracting, so he reset the pneumatic cartridge before tucking it away.

He looked around. He was on the outside of an enemy ship. He glanced up, across the bridge, at the Helianthus – as beautiful as ever – and felt far away from home. His breathing sounded even louder than before.

“No one can hear, just focus.” He muttered.

Everything appeared to match up with his map. He was on the backside, and the maintenance hatch he was looking for was starboard. There wasn’t much for cover, but he stayed below outcrops when he could. Following his planned route, he made his way across. Secure tether, release, walk, repeat. Sweat tickled his eyebrows, and he wished he could brush it away.

He crossed over the edge onto the starboard side, and immediately ducked back down. The maintenance hatch was open. The scout used a manual two-door airlock protected by a heavy metal door. That door could be opened with the right tool, and he had been prepared for that. He wasn’t prepared for it to be open.

He peeked over the edge again, trying to stay as low as possible. There was no one in sight near the hatch. Gary’s nagging was at the back of his mind, reminding him that he could just go home. At least, Captain Gareth was. Teen Gary would have been all for this little adventure. That thought made him laugh, and he decided to bide his time.