Nyx navigated along Kipo’s path through a docking bay hatch, followed by the control room itself. At last she reached the near silent corridor that stretched for meters in both directions to her left and right.
Kipo was nowhere to be seen.
The ship’s lighting was a rich twilight, a pleasant change for Nyx’s Catharian eyes. This dim illumination wasn’t surprising since the Wednesday’s Child was supposed to be retrofit. It was common practice to keep the ship reactors running at minimal power. No sense to waste precious fuel.
There wasn’t enough dust along the old white-gray floors to track which direction Kipo slithered. A moment’s search did nothing but add fuel to Nyx’s frustrations. After a glance in either direction, she chose a path, then stalked off. Two of JN-66’s drones trailed obediently behind her.
A short walk, and several thoughts about sign language retribution against Kipo later, Nyx found herself one deck up at a door marked ‘bridge’.
Once the door hissed open with a short, veiled snarl, a series of automatic lights cascaded to life around the wide room. Deck lights bathed the floor in a stream of orange illumination. Consoles were mostly dark, with the occasional flicker of life. Specifically the life support, bridge engineering, and the round shield table station.
Then, without warning, every console activated on its own. Telemetry, system maps, and ship subsystems glimmered across the empty room that should have been powerless. It was as if the bridge became aware that a visitor had stopped by.
Storyteller InstructionsNyx, what do you do?