Jonny was walking the deserted corridors of the decrepid retriever when the deafening noise reached his ears. He was near the rear ore bays, and was hit by the sudden realisation that he couldn't remember if he had activated the drone perimeter defences.
It wasn't the first time his wanderlust had placed him in potential danger. Some days earlier the ship had been surrounded by three Reavers that had slipped in undetected whilst he had been studying the antiquated warpdrive engines in the drive deck. Only luck, in the form of a fellow miner who had just warped in to the belt, had saved his ship. He swore he had learned his lesson, yet here he was. Again.
Breaking into a swift sprint, he retraced his way through the darkened and disused corridors, his footfalls betraying his clear panic. A sudden impact shook the floors and he almost lost his footing.
"Shit"
He raced to a nearby viewport. Through the tainted glass pane he saw a white streak of light and breathed a sigh of relief. The drones were making short work of the rats. The hit had been a lucky shot, and hopefully cause nothing but superficial damage.
"Glad I didn't end up painting the hull like Tai suggested" he chuckled.
It wasn't that Jonny was a bad pilot. He was just distracted very easily, and the cramped interior of his Pod had given way to the excitement of exploring the 60 year old mining ship. As he walked through the maze of quarters and common areas he liked to imagine what it would have been like to live and work aboard such a vessel in it's prime. Before the days of automated systems. Before the coming of the capsuliers.
His imaginings were never unrealistic, nor did he romantise the sort of life these men and women led.
Deep down, he knew he was not made of such stern stuff...
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