“Do you think she’s lost?” one man in a business suit whispered to another, both of them holding steaming cups of coffee. “I don’t care to find out. Maybe we should call security?”

They, as well as a handful of other employees of Origin and other mega-corps, exchanged curious glances as their gaze kept returning to the out-of-place looking, heavily tattooed woman sitting cross-legged on one of the myriad leather sofas looking over the great window that covered the entire outer wall of the public break room. Drawing deeply from her cigarette, she stared absentmindedly at Derelict’s carcass floating beyond the viewport, cast in a bloody red light by the native star. The place looked of death to her.

From here, Cass could see the many large-scale surface details of the machine world, with its many ridges and outcroppings, parallel lines to and from locations unknown. The gigantic crater they called Impact Alpha gaped like an ugly bruise on this side of Derelict, visible even from orbit. Scientists were still debating what caused it; nobody had found evidence to support the popular meteorite theory, nor were there obvious signs suggestive of weapon damage. The site was simply caved in, as if a god had tried to push their finger into planet’s hull. Evidently, without success; the crater did not go deeper than the impenetrable sphere. Shame about that – as far as Cass was concerned, this whole place could get blown to hell.

“I’m s-sorry, are you new here?” reticently asked a blonde in a well-ironed business blouse. She was looking curiously at Cass, standing close enough to take a seat two spots from her. “Oh boy,” someone sighed in the background and emptied their mug.

Cass blew a puff of tangerine smoke towards the young woman, who grimaced when it hit her face. “New to Origin, not to Derelict,” she replied, sounded bored and ever so slightly aggravated. “Been here longer than you for sure.”

The blonde awkwardly waited and weighted her words. “Ah, I’m sorry,” she smiled nervously. “I was wondering if you were looking for someone or something.”

Cass returned her gaze to the planetary carcass of Derelict. “Very sweet, but I’m good. Just another hour before I’m back down there,” she lamented wistfully, taking another heavy pull from her cig.

“Oh,” the other blurted out, unsure what to say. Eventually, she stammered: “You’re with a ground team?”

“What’s it to you?” Cass shot back at her, causing her to flinch. “Sorry if I’m being nosy,” the blonde apologized, “I’ve never spoken to anyone who’s actually been to the surface. I kind of wonder, you know, what it’s like?”

“Tsk,” Cass stifled a chuckle. “It sucks,” she finished dryly. Something about Derelict always reminded her of home. Most likely it was the constant fear. Here, as on Heracles, dread was a steady companion that followed wherever she went. Death was never far behind.

“I’ve heard,” the other chirped up again after a little while, “that most people that go down have to rotate out of doing so after a while.”

“So?” Cass adjusted her legs with a menacing clonk sound.

“Well, how much longer do you have to go down? It sounds like you’re not enjoying it.”

Cass impassively stared out of the window, pondering the question. What were her odds of survival until she could repay her debt to Mercury? Was there any hope at all? And did she even care to know, if someone could have told her? As seconds trickled by, the young woman shifted uncomfortably.

“’Till I get killed, I guess,” Cass shrugged her scarred shoulders. She did not believe her own words – or did not want to. The other woman remained quiet and, after a while her gaze, too, shifted from Cass towards Derelict’s harshly illuminated surface, where wounds old and new scarred its metal shell.

[hr]
“That’ll be all, for now, lieutenant,” Sophia remarked as she double-checked the elapsed time on her watch.  “I will see you again for a psych evaluation after you return from Derelict. I will want to record your first impressions of the world, as well as any possible symptoms. As for your scans and blood sample, I will evaluate them as I get the time for it; I’ll spare you the details and only bring them up again if I find something worrying. Assume that everything is well until I say otherwise.”

“Twenty minutes till the shuttle’s here,” Cass remarked from the rear of the room where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “It would appear so,” Sophia commented, folding her fingers as she leaned back in her freshly assembled, leather chair, “You will get your turn after this sortie, Cass.”

“Can’t wait,” she droned with a dead pan expression. [i]Neither can I[/i], Sophia added in thought, wondering which of the two women was less thrilled by the prospect.

“Now, has anyone seen Mr. Marlowe,” Sophia asked into the room. “If someone can contact him, I’d like to call him in next.”