Significant Find

“Just like I told you,” Bates said, his left palm on the rust-pitted hull of the derelict transport. The small ship, about thirty feet long, was half submerged in a yellow-orange dune deep in the Sand Mother Desert.
I nodded. The ship wasn’t much to look at. Might be worth a few thousand credits in salvage.
“Want a look inside?” he asked, adjusting the red kerchief over his mouth. He looked like an old Earth western bandit, except he also wore brass-framed goggles and a silver helmet with black plastic cat ears.
“It’s why I’m here,” I said. My eyes settled on the vessel’s name near the crumpled nose. The paint had been faded by time and elements, but I could still make out the words: EKATERINA’S PRIDE.
Bates gave a nod, then tugged on the exterior access hatch once. Twice. After the third attempt, the hatch groaned open to reveal a shadowy airlock. No hiss of equalizing atmosphere. The interior door hung open into a corridor. Probably a hull breach on the other side or down below. It had appeared largely intact when Bates landed the shuttle on a rocky mesa about a mile away.
We found the ship’s mummified owner, still at the controls in the cockpit, slumped over the control panel. Fedora on the floor. Antique metallic cigarette lighter – one with a flip top – resting in his open withered palm.
“Hi, Dad,” I muttered.