The silence is more of a problem for Telrim. She can dismiss the emptiness of alien buildings, so detached from anything she cares for. But this is her ship. This is home ground. This should be safe. She weaves between doors, here and there opening one, the doors slipping smoothly aside to reveal empty laboratories, offices, a break room with a datapad left beside two abandoned lunches. Monitors recording data for the benefit of no-one. A disassembled oxygen unit shoved into a pile beside the tank of alien fish it's meant for.
There should be people here. People she knows.
She gives up quietly and lets the latest door slide closed behind her... just as the noise from a side-corridor becomes loud enough to hear. A heavy tread, then another sound. The click of hooves on metal - and the Controller's hiss of indrawn breath should tell her companions what that means.
no subject
Date: 2014-04-18 11:32 pm (UTC)There should be people here. People she knows.
She gives up quietly and lets the latest door slide closed behind her... just as the noise from a side-corridor becomes loud enough to hear. A heavy tread, then another sound. The click of hooves on metal - and the Controller's hiss of indrawn breath should tell her companions what that means.