The hangar was a fully enclosed interior one, and quite small in comparison to the giant vessel. The salvage crew had indeed gotten it operational, and a simple command opened the exterior door, then closed it again after Gaylen had touched down on the floor.

As the air generators returned atmosphere to the hangar, Gaylen gathered his crew in the entry area.

“Right. Herdis and Bers, I want you two to guard the ship. From inside. Don’t open the airlock for anything without my say so.”

“Understood.”

“Mm!”

“Jaquan, you’ll evaluate the coils they’re willing to offer us. And I don’t feel you and I should stroll into an unknown situation by ourselves. Ayna and Kiris, you’ll be coming along.”

“Mysterious, ancient relic?” Ayna said. “Yes, I’ll come along.”

Her casualness concerned him a bit, but he left it be. Kiris was silent for a moment, quietly but visibly grumbling about being given an order. Then she nodded.

“Observe for me,” he said, and indicated his own eyes. “Like that job on Kahana.”

“Right.”

“And we’ll all bring some air, just in case.”

Jaquan handed out small emergency air kits, and the away party each clipped one to their belt.

Gaylen looked the group over. Everyone had their respective weapons and everyone looked ready.

“Alright then.”

He opened the interior airlock door, stepped through, and opened the exterior. The air was chilly, but far from being dangerously so. Salvage crews generally had better things to do than arrange for comfort.

“Hello?” Gaylen said to a camera that had been set up.

“Yes, I see you,” Pol Jon said through an attached speaker. “Come along.”

The door out of the hangar was still in working order; the salvage crew had merely had to attach a small power generator, and the ancient metal screeched open at a leisurely pace.

Before them awaited a plain metal corridor. The salvagers had strung heaters, air generators, and basic gravity mats down along it, but no lights, save for faint ones glowing on the machinery.

“Spooky,” Kiris remarked flatly as Gaylen brought out his little flashlight.

“Eh, maybe to you lot,” Ayna said and took off her glasses.

Gaylen had never quite understood how Dwyyk eyes worked, but he knew enough to feel considerably more at ease for having her along. Kiris was right; this place did have quite the ambiance.

What is it about old, abandoned places? he asked himself idly. What do we imagine seeps into them in our absence?

He reminded himself to be concerned with people, not phantoms, and shone the flashlight left and right, left and right, as they walked on.

The next door they arrived at clearly hadn’t been as functional, and the salvagers had cut it open and replaced it with a portable seal.

“I’ll open that for you,” Pol Jon said, and a moment later the slats parted with a slight whoosh of air.

“This place has seen some damage,” Ayna commented.

“What kind of damage?” Gaylen asked, shining about in search of it as the slats closed behind them.

“I don’t know. Damage. Hey, Pol Jon, are you still watching?” she asked and turned to face the seal.

“I am, yes.”

“Do you know what happened to this thing?”

“It has taken some meteor hits throughout the ages. At least three showers. But it all started with violence.”

They passed two doors the salvagers had sealed off, and Gaylen looked up as Ayna pointed and saw a seal in the ceiling.

“Violence?”

“Fighting. The hangar door we used had been forced open. We had to do some external repairs before we could fly the ship in.”

“Are you sure someone didn’t just beat you to the salvage?” Gaylen asked.

“Quite sure,” Pol Jon said. “Quite sure.”

“Blood,” Ayna said softly.

They arrived at a turn in the hallway. Or rather, a solid seal, and the string of various devices turned down an unsealed door on its right. On its left was an ancient, large, dark smear. In its centre was a small piece of sealant, recently applied.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Yes, we had to close that one,” Pol Jon said through the nearest camera. “There was a little hole, made by the blade that did the deed.”

“Who puts a blade through metal this solid?” Kiris asked and tapped her knuckles on the wall.

“Who indeed?” the man replied, and seemed to enjoy the question. “How good is your history?”

They cut that necessary right, through a long, narrow room that seemed to exist purely to give access to several broad pipes. Their path then led left again, up to yet another sealed door.

“I’ll join you shortly,” Pol Jon said as the door screeched open.

They passed through a very brief transition area. Looking about, Gaylen realised that the derelict had indeed been put together out of smaller pieces. This was one of the joints.

He caught a fleeting moment of disapproval on Jaquan’s face, and even Gaylen could tell that the process had been rushed and crude by starship-making standards. Then they were into that other section, and all that left his mind.

The space they entered was high, wide and empty enough that Gaylen initially thought they’d entered a cargo area. But no. No one bothered to make cargo bays stylish.

Arches hung overhead and the lights the salvagers had set up glittered on yellow inlays. Pillars rose from the floor and up into the gloom, covered with plaques of some kind, on which were symbols Gaylen had seen in a couple of old Fringe ruins.

“This is... unusual,” Kiris commented and spun in a slow circle.

“Yes,” Gaylen said.

Even on a large ship a swimming pool-sized area wasn’t simply wasted. There were entrances here and there, so clearly this was a hub of some kind, but he suspected it had served some additional purpose.

“Hey, wow,” Ayna said. “Look.”

They did look where she pointed, and Gaylen’s light shone on a painting that covered much of one wall.

It showed a large valley, hemmed in by imposing, craggy mountains. The skies above were stormy, with dark clouds and flashes of lightning gathering directly above the valley’s centre. Either descending or ascending through it all were several large ships in formation.

“Hm,” Jaquan said. “And what do you think all this is?”

“Home?” Ayna suggested. “Or some... pivotal moment in the culture’s history?”

“Nostalgia,” Gaylen said.

He walked a bit closer and took the image in.

“Nostalgia?” Ayna replied.

“This seems to be a real place,” he began his explanation. “The mountain range is close to perfect, but not quite. And nothing natural is perfect, after all. But the colours are exaggerated. It’s all very... grand. Romantic. And those ships.”

He examined them a little while longer, noting the emotive colours of the clouds that centred around the vessels.

“Anger. Revenge. A wish for an angry return, in vengeful triumph.”

Gaylen wagged his finger at the image.

“I think this is the Valley of Vartana.”

“I’ve...” Kiris looked thoughtful. “I’ve heard that before...”

“The Exiles of Vartana,” Gaylen said. “The tyrant kings, driven away from home and out into the wider galaxy, to become a plague.”

“Wasn’t that... what... two thousand years ago?” Jaquan said. “More? This thing can’t be THAT old.”

“No. This is from later. I think this vessel is from the Long Pursuit, after they were driven away from their first planetary dominion.”

He threw up his hands.

“If I’m right this is quite a find. It’s a shame someone beat us to it.”

“How did people even fly back then?” Ayna mused. “I don’t suppose it included rak-coils? That we could make use of?”

“No,” Jaquan said. “Oh, no no no. Starflight back then was... different. Out here, and so long ago, they will have used some variation of the black cylinder.”

He shook his head.

“Let’s not try to mess around with that. Way too prone to Korokis Reactions”

“Alright. More interesting question: How do you know all that stuff?”

She turned to Gaylen.

“I’ve been flying for quite a while and I’ve met some interesting people,” he told her.

“That doesn’t explain the art stuff.”

“The art stuff,” he repeated. “Well, art theory was a part of my courses in school.”

He shrugged.

“I suppose it has stuck with me.”

“And what’s an educated man doing on the far lanes?” the Dwyyk asked with a grin.

“Flying,” he said simply, and turned his attention back on the unusual surroundings.

In the corner of his eye he caught Kiris signalling Ayna to drop the matter. He did appreciate that.

One stupid mistake...

“Our host is coming,” Ayna then said.

“What?”

A particular sound began to distinguish itself from the general hum of various machinery. After a few seconds Gaylen identified it as booming footsteps, penetrating through thick metal. He looked around for the source, but the dim lighting and multiple passageways stymied his efforts. He was slightly startled when a hatch opened in the floor. It was designed to blend in with the surrounding plates.

Up steep stairs walked a figure in a big, clunky metal suit, joints softly whining with each movement. A number of tools were attached to each gauntlet, and the face was hidden behind an opaque plate. The entire thing was clearly well-maintained, but also marked with multiple scuffs from the riskier parts of salvage work.

The figure approached, footsteps booming as it came, and Gaylen’s group gathered to stand before it. It came to a stop, and looked the group over in silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pol Jon then said, and his faceplate slid back, revealing a broad, unshaved face. “I get a touch too used to this suit sometimes.”

“Nice to meet you in the flesh,” Gaylen said.

He looked behind the man, at the opening he’d come from.

“Are the rest coming?”

Pol Jon smiled.

“They’ll be up in a bit. We just finished accessing a new section. They’re finishing up. We made a big find. Big, big find.”

“You’re not kidding,” Ayna said and chuckled, indicating all the space around them.

“They’ll be up in a bit,” the salvager repeated. “The captain said to keep you company. Won’t you join me?”

He turned with a whir and waved them towards the centre of the room.

“We have a little spot set up for breaks.”

“Sure. We will.”

The man turned fully and walked towards the centre with his loud thumps. Kiris used the noise as cover to lean in and whisper to Gaylen.

“He was lying.”

Gaylen absorbed this for a moment. Then he turned to Ayna.

“Slip away as soon as you can,” he told her. “Poke around a bit.”

The young woman nodded curtly, turning serious in an instant.

“We’ll hold his attention. Kiris, help me out. Do your thing.”

The Chanei nodded too. Jaquan merely looked alert. And they followed the man.