She was a lot bigger up close. The Durandal must have been truly massive her prime, but now —something like a thousand years and countless meteor strikes later — she's just a husk of herself.

Simon closed his eyes for a moment trying to force his brain to align to some imaginary horizon in the void. Piloting a ship is one thing, there are instruments, gears, and this thing called floors. EVA's already weren't his thing. EVA's in space? Constant vertigo.

He took a breath and let his eyes open. In the back of his mind he knew he should be reveling in the view before him. There sat the lost colony ship Durandal, a relic of the golden of space travel, floating at an odd angle to the thin ribbon of ice and dust that made up the ring system to this otherwise uninteresting moon. It was a shipwreck on sandy beach in the vastness of space.

Simon concentrate on his target, some 1500 meters left in his gradual fall toward the derelict craft. Captain Ankers really nailed the trajectory in their approach, completely manual to boot. "I'm still better," Simon muttered to himself.

Their salvage ship, The Styx, had a mission brief that kept them operating in contested territory so discretion had top priority. Normally Simon got to sit in a nice cushy pilot's seat, but the jump drive needed some repairs. And when the captain volunteers you for the job there's not much to be done than suit up and take a ride into the inky darkness.

Simon passed into the shadow of The Durandal. A few more moments and he could activate his suit's thrusters and finally get some kind of control of the situation. They came across the location by chance. In all of space, their ship found her, The Durandal. Even if they are unable to salvage any part of her. They are the ones who found her. The thought brought a smile to Simon's face. He flicked on the thrusters.

There was no reason she should be here. All the records of her journey indicated she left port in good after a brief stop at local station at the planet next door. Here she was -- might as well be in a ditch right across from a gas station. Though in all fairness. Space is big and even the biggest ship can get lost if everyone is looking in the wrong place.

Simon was like an ant against the side of the hull as his thrusters brought him to a gentle stop at his target. He kept his eyes locked on the metal panels in front of him, lest he invite the vertigo to return. A small image projected to the inside of his helmet buzzed to life. The live-scanning feature of his suit already being fed to his suit's computer.

According to the readout there was still a pressurized section of the ship not too far from his location. All he needed to do was go and access Bay-4, which was fortunately nearby. Simon swallowed hard, trying to keep down the growing nausea and knowing it was only going to get worse. He took a deep breath and activated his thrusters again, looking for his way inside the ghost ship. --