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Uncertain what to do next, Porter waited for the captain's reaction, but he showed little concern about the noise coming through their comms. Or was it a message? An SOS for the alien derelict's people to come and rescue them? Whatever it was, it didn't appear to concern anyone but her.

Finnegan remained near the doorway. No, he leaned against the door frame, his hand returning to the back of his neck every so often. Slumped, his chest rising and falling at a rate that bordered upon panic. Before she could move to make a closer examination of him, Mats strode back into the room, clapping a hand on Finnegan's shoulder as she passed. With the intermittent light, Porter caught a glimpse of her face and the grin she wore beneath the faceplate. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

"Ndara's fine." She swept past everybody and leaned over, hands supporting her on her knees as she stared at the damage the alien had caused. "He was sleeping. Typical. Now, let's see what we can figure out about these systems."

"I was not sleeping! I was resting my eyes." Ndara now entered the room, head sweeping around as he stared at everything. "This is a wonderful ship, is it not? Ahh, to fly this would be a dream. Shame about the dead aliens. Is it safe?"

"Of course it's safe." Now the captain stirred, moving to Ndara, prodding a gloved hand into his chest. "This derelict has been here a long time. Whatever happened, it's history. And why the fuck are you here? Did I not make my orders clear?"

"How could I miss this?" Ndara spread his arms. "Besides, where is the shuttle going to go?"

"Get back to the shuttle. Now." The captain turned away, then turned back. "And as you go back, place claim markers on everything. Chen! What more on that sound?"

Porter gaped at the others in the room. They acted as though there wasn't an alien in front of them with its head exploded. As though they were all merely taking a walk on a station for rest and recuperation, or repairs, or something. They took all this in a far too relaxed fashion.

She knew well that there were some Earth species that could survive extreme temperatures with ease. Some organisms that could go dormant in ice and revive decades, even centuries later. None of the murdered alien crew, or this poor, almost headless individual could come back from their injuries, but that didn't mean there weren't other crew members that only hibernated, or organisms of which they could have no understanding waiting to revive as temperatures rose.

A glance at her EV suit controls showed that they still glitched, but, through the interference, she saw the temperature had risen to a balmy thirty-one degrees Celsius. A little warm for comfort, but well within the range of habitability. Maybe she worried for nothing. Maybe they had all the time in the world to explore this ship, air supply notwithstanding. And maybe the captain was right, that the place was safe, but she wanted to see a little more caution. A little more professionalism.

"I've isolated the frequency of the noise and I'm having GAIA communicate on that same frequency. If it is learning from our conversations, maybe a wider vocabulary will fill in the gaps." Chen's voice came through loud and clear, free of interference, now, and of the ululating sounds. "We should know one way or the other in a few minutes."

"Keep me informed." The captain placed balled fists upon his hips. Were he not wearing his helmet, he would have rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Alright. Mats. Any idea what our friend here was trying to do?"

Mats had opened her tool kit, using an extendable probe to prod and move various wires and tubes. She had crouched down, her helmet light illuminating the open panel where the alien had ripped things out with abandon. After a while, she shook her head, using the probe to scratch the side of her helmet, before prodding at something a little further inside the panel. Sparks arced from the nearby wires, smoke trailing from what looked like plastic casings.

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