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[shipmaster]

Threads, continuations and TDM INSIDE

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[dendarii]

Of course it was understandable. I didn't know a damn --

[ And Miles lands flat on his face. Oof. ]

Thhhhing. Ow.

[shipmaster]

[The sound, nearby, is someone trying. And failing. To cover a snicker.]

[dendarii]

Laugh all you like. You hardly managed any better.

[ He awkwardly pulls himself back up. ]

[shipmaster]

[Oh no.]

You look like a red racoon...

[dendarii]

[ Miles swats at the Betan with one hand. ]

Eyes on our objective, Captain. Not my face.

[shipmaster]

Sir. [Only Bel really can put that much laughter into accepting an order. Possibly the only Captain that dares.

Still, they start towards the vessel, searching for the way in.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles refocuses on the ship below them. Surely there must be some way ... ]

-- Ah, over there. It looks like a gash in the ship's side.

[shipmaster]

It is!

... well, that answers if it's space worthy. [As if being under untold amount of sand didn't. They trot over the length of several panels to get to the punctured hull...

Hovering at the edge, to keep a low profile, they peer in.]

Clear, I think.

[dendarii]

No time like the present, then.

[ Miles carefully squeezes through the gap and lowers himself inside. ]

PSL from here on out

[shipmaster]

Dammit, Admiral. After me.

[They squeeze in after, a far tighter fit than Miles' slight form, and blink into the dim lighting... It seems to have opened into a straight enough passage anyway.]

[dendarii]

Hmm? Is that because admirals always stay behind, especially fragile ones like me?

[ You knew that was coming, Bel Thorne. Miles cheerfully picks a direction and sets out. The slanted floors make progress somewhat slow, but Miles is excited by new prospects if nothing else. ]

[shipmaster]

[The faint scuffle of a stumble behind Miles may let them know that hit the mark.]

I'm not apologizing. [It starts muttered. It's repeated singsong.

They follow after, trailing fingers in the condensation on the walls. Cautiously, they bring their fingers to their nose, sniff... and then taste...]

Water..?

[dendarii]

It was clever, I admit. Entirely necessary given my tendencies ...

[ But there's still a note of sarcastic scolding in his words. He stops for a moment, looking back at Bel. Then up at the moisture gathering. He touches a panel himself. ]

... Just so. I wonder if we could gather enough to drink.

[shipmaster]

We'll need to.. too valuable to pass up.

[For now they drop their hand and double step to catch up with Miles. A few doors ahead... and a small maze of turns. They try scratching an arrow into one of the walls, for now.]

[dendarii]

Mm. We don't have many water rations left, save whatever moisture we get from the Queen.

[ That's a good idea. Miles will mark the next one, then. ]

How large do you suppose this thing is?

[shipmaster]

It dwarfs the Triumph, at least. [The flagship of the Dendarii Fleet was no small vessel, but...]

What was the Barrayaran one? The Prince Surt?

[dendarii]

The Prince Serg. [ The correction comes to his lips automatically. ] And it might be even larger than that. Given we're still in hallways here ...

[ But he's coming up on a door that looks like it goes somewhere. Cautiously, he moves to paw at its handle. ]

[shipmaster]

Freighter class? [The door wooshes open, courtesy of whatever power still gave them enough to see and walk by.]

Oh god! [The smell that pours out of the room is horrifically pungent, reeking of rot and some greenery foreign to both of them.]

[dendarii]

Just -

[ Oh god is right. Miles covers up his mouth to keep from retching on the spot. Ugh. ]

What the hell is that? And why is it on a space ship?

[shipmaster]

I don't- [They pause, hiccoughing in an effort not to gag.] -don't know.

Let's not-

Another room? Please?

[dendarii]

Yes, agreed.

[ He slams the panel shut again. Odds are good he would have been allergic to something in there anyway. ]

No chance of comms being in there, I hope.

[shipmaster]

[Bel marks the door with a large, slashing X.]

No...

If it IS, we'll try again.

Last.

[dendarii]

A plan I heartily agree with.

[ He gladly moves forward down the hallway. A little ways on, he comes to a door that's terribly cold to the touch. ]

What about this one?

[shipmaster]

[The cover their nose, and then,]

Worth a try.

[dendarii]

Onwards, then ...

[ He tugs it open with a supreme effort. It's freezing in here, but at least there's no plants. And Miles thinks he recognizes this sort of layout. Having been in many, many variations of it. ]

... This looks like a medical area.