Sarah's vision returned in a throbbing blur, head pounding, children laughing. The laughter faded quickly, leaving her along on the cold floor. She briefly questioned why the corridor was swaying. In-between waves of nausea, the girl wondered how long she'd been out for. It could have been anything from minutes or days. It said something for the solidarity the Rouges shared that she was still lay where she'd fallen. The engineer attempted to heave herself into a sitting position, the pain in her head redoubling. It was as if someone was attempting to beat their way out of her skull with a sledgehammer.
Displaying an amazing strength of will, Sarah staggered to her feet, her vision still swimming.
A hulk of a CSV floated aimlessly in the Badlands, all lights long since dead. Rather then a cockpit the battered ship sported a jagged hold, generated by a Rouge 'rescue' team. The ship itself was long since dead, lacking engines or functioning on-board electronics, save one system. The Mundane Intervention's on board emergency beacon gave a final burst of static, and died. Finally allowing one last security measure to disengage. At least in theory.
A safe; guarded by shielded electronic locks, EMP emitters, microwave systems and temperatures a few degrees above absolute zero finally exhausted it's electrical supply and swung open. Or it would have, had it not been opened four days earlier.
Sarah, in a desperate attempt to save power, had unwittingly cut off several systems, one of which should never have been disturbed.
The silver safe; even with its contents gone and electronics offline bore little resemblance to any other security device in Sirius. It was slightly shabby, lacking paint, as was characteristic of Junker technology, but was no less secure for it. It glittered slightly, bare wires connecting it to the CSV's power supply.
It was also plastered with biohazard warnings.
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As Sarah McFarlen stumbled blindly towards the Rouge leader's office, depositing files, and hence to her new Greyhound, she wasn't to know that she was in possession of something no human should have had. Or perhaps, it her.
The girl shrugged, shaking off some of the dizziness. She had a lane to pirate.
