Riordan navigated the various piles of debris and scrap strewn across the docking bay floor. After a few hundred meters he stopped at a control panel next to an airlock. He checked with his scanner, confirming breathable air on the other side of the bulkhead, though the temperature was low.
“Riordan to Swindler, how is the shutdown progressing?" he asked as he fiddled with the archaic control panel.
“This is the Swindler, we’re getting there. Sarah is going down to engineering to shut down the APU’s. How’s your progress?”
Riordan cranked a dial and threw a large switch. Banks of light panels flickered fitfully to life throughout the hanger. Most of the panels were non-functional or scavenged, but the illumination was enough to navigate by. "I got the hanger lights on, working on life support."
Riordan entered the airlock and sealed the door behind him. Riordan brought up a file on the small scanning device. He carefully entered the 128 digit passcode into the keypad. On a more modern ship, these operations could be handled remotely. Riordan chose not to install such upgrades to make an infiltration of the Odyssey more difficult. The inner door opened admitting him into the darkness beyond. The control node that governed the hanger deck was just down the hall. He scanned around with his helmet lights and checked down the length of each hallway with his thermal sight. Clear.
“Riordan to Swindler, we are going to lose contact for a few minutes, I have to travel deeper to pressurize the hangar deck. I'll also be turning on the long-range coms."
“Swindler here, please be careful, OK?”
“Always. Once I’m done with a security sweep, I’ll come back and lead you two to our accommodations for our stay here on the Odyssey. ETA 30 Mins. Riordan out.”
Riordan proceeded down the darkened hallway, stepping over piles of cables and other debris. Wires and cables randomly hung from the ceiling cross members. Though rare, some of them could be energized. The corridor seemed endless but so far, his scanner hadn't registered anything out of the ordinary.
“Riordan to Swindler?” He paused, waiting for a response. “Swindler?” 'Definitely out of coms range', he thought. The node he was looking for was still several hundred meters ahead, another security measure. Most raiding parties trying to infiltrate a ship or hideout would expect the environmental controls to be near the hanger deck or living areas. The air was dank and still and the light from his helmet only projected a few dozen feet.
As he remembered, the nature of the corridor debris changed from cast-off parts and cabling to actual gray plasteel and carbon fiber shipping containers, most still unopened. Most of them held various spare parts, tools, and emergency rations, however, a select few had surprises stashed, just in case. Some of them were here when he found the Odyssey, likely left by previous smuggling or salvage crew.
The scanner in his hand vibrated strongly causing him to bring his rifle to the ready. Heat signature, 22 meters ahead. Riordan proceeded with caution, his helmet lights illuminating nothing but more debris and containers. He saw nothing where the scanner indicated. He narrowed the scope of the scanner, and it led him to a panel on the wall. A small area heater. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and continued down the dark corridor.
He made the turn he was looking for and this corridor was illuminated with the occasional LED assembly versus more modern light strips and glow panels. He could see the widened part of the corridor that housed the control node. He quickened his pace. The control panel was activated by a key which a crew member would have, but in this case, the key was glued into the slot with hull patch compound. The panel consisted of an assortment of dials, LED readouts, and panels added by earlier crews or Riordan himself.
He turned the large brass key in its slot and the panel hummed to life, dial needles jumping and readouts flickering. He watched patiently as the system booted up, lines of code dancing across the green monochrome screen. A menu appeared on the screen. Fingers reached out and made selections, setting the gravity for ¾ standard and activating illumination. Life support systems were brought out of standby mode and the temperature controls were adjusted for comfort. He fiddled with a newer section of equipment, long range internal coms, setting frequency and range on the touch panel and toggled his com.
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“Swindler, this is Riordan, do you read?"
A few moments passed. He almost thought something was wrong when he received a response. There was a brief burst of static before the noise filter cut in.
“Swindler here. Read you pretty good. Are we almost set?” The signal wasn’t as clear as he would like but it was good enough.
“Almost, what's your status?" he replied.
“The Swindler’s been tucked in and put to bed, just like you ordered.”
“Great. I have a few more things to do, then I'm headed back your way. Feel free to open up the cargo airlock, the hangar deck has pressure now."
The gun on her hip felt heavy. It slapped gently against her thigh as they followed their leader to their quarters for the foreseeable future. She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the straps of her pack. While her father was restoring life-support and gravity, she was busy at the packing. She threw in a few sets of clothing from what she was able to evacuate the station with, her hygiene kit, and a generic tablet loaded with books, music, and recent holovids and series from the Swindler's small library. She ignored the sizable selection of adult content she found in a hidden folder. She didn’t want to know. She also grabbed several packaged meals, just in case. Her father would occasionally stop to fiddle with this or to point out that. She wasn't paying attention. Her mind was still reeling from the attack on the station and the revelations of the past few days.
“Huh?” she queried, aware that both adults are looking back at her.
“Are you feeling OK?" Glori asked with a compassionate expression.
I haven’t been OK since my mom left and this is just more of the same, she wanted to say. Sensing her emotions starting to get out of control she stuffs them back down. "I'm uh… tired I guess," she said, instead. She added a wane smile.
Glori smiled back and they continued down the corridor. The nature of the décor changed from utilitarian and spartan to ornate and even nuevo-decor with wood paneling and art patterns embossed on the walls. There was even the occasional framed art print. She reached out but found the 'wood' panels were just textured plastic. Figured.
Every few hundred feet, a large map adorned the wall, showing where they were in relation to various amenities. Red markings X-ed out various areas that presumably no longer functioned, or existed, for various reasons. Sarah knew from their observation fly-by and her sensor scans that the aft part of the ship, which would have held the engines and main reactors, was missing. Engines were always the most valuable part of a ship and were likely removed shortly after the Odyssey was sold for scrap. She stopped with the others at the intersection of several large corridors.
Riordan explained that passenger quarters were that way, but mostly gutted, and the food court used to be the other way and once had twenty different food options and four sit-down restaurants. The sports arenas were two decks down and served as the auxiliary hangar/cargo decks for emergency operations. The eight movie theaters and the two live performance theaters were several decks up. The thought of a yeasty food court hot-roll drizzled with crilberberry syrup and spices made her mouth water.
A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of a pair of large gold-painted and ornately carved doors. Sarah studied the carvings for a moment before realizing they depicted several dozen people in various states and complexities of coitus. Her cheeks flushed with sudden heat, but the adults didn't seem to notice.
“Here we are! The Supernova Casino!" Riordan announced as if the doors were voice-activated. He activated the controls and the doors slid open, revealing the casino. The largest of three casinos on the Odyssey, the Supernova Casino was specifically designed for middle-class passengers. Sarah took in the scene for a moment, glancing from dusty gaming tables to rows of empty gaming machine pedestals with wiring and optical cabling sticking up from the floor. Over half the lighting panels worked, which was an improvement from the hanger deck. Somehow, she expected more from a casino.
“This is where we are staying?” she asked skeptically. “A Casino?”
“Frek yes! Impressive, isn’t it? They don’t make them like this anymore!” Riordan replied, looking around appreciatively.
“Impressive would not be the word I would use," Glori said, moving through the doorway.
“Decrepit. Derelict. Dilapidated. Ramshackle. Shabby. Seedy. Crusty. All better words,” Sarah added.
“Oh, come on! Use your imagination! The sights, the sounds, the flashing lights, the music, the food! Can't you see hundreds of people having a good time, drinking, gambling, and dancing? This place was frekking epic!" Riordan put his arm around Sarah's shoulders. “So epic in fact, that when the Odyssey reached Eden, she stayed in orbit for years as a resort while the colonists built settlements, factories, mines, and farms.”
“The less economically gifted colonists you mean,” Sarah interrupted, shrugging his arm off. “Expending their effort, the fruit of their labor benefiting the elite. While the poor toiled, the rich played.”
“Well, that's how you paid for your passage to a new world back then," he replied.
“Sure. Bring me aboard this monument to oppression and excess, then defend the oppression of the lower classes. Stay classy, Dad."
Ignoring his protests, she wandered out onto the casino floor. She knew what role she would have had on a ship like this. Manual labor in house keeping or if she was lucky in some eatery in the food court. Some things never change.