Naomi clung to the hull, her boots' electromagnets keeping her anchored as she pulled herself hand over hand along the grips set into the ship's surface. She carefully dragged the salvaged materials from the engine room storage, inching them closer to the belly of the ship.
"Alright, here's the deal," Osaka said. "We're patchin' this hole from the inside. So go ahead and shove all them panels and beams through."
She peered into the breach. The gap opened into a passage leading to Grim Reaper's storage area. Because of this damage, the airtight bulkhead had sealed itself automatically.
"From the inside? Oh—I thought we were just gonna patch it from out here," Naomi said.
"Well, sure, you could do it outside," Osaka replied. "But if there's even the tiniest leak, we'd be wastin' precious air. From the inside, it's easier to slap on a proper fix. Plus, even though I'm watchin' for debris, it's always riskier outside. Less time out here, the better."
Debris—tiny chunks of rock and metal drifting through space forever, never slowing unless pulled by gravity. Some came screaming in from tens of thousands of kilometers away. Even a pebble could punch through a suit like a bullet. Normally, the hull was shielded with magnetic defenses, but Naomi's EVA meant the field was powered down.
"R-right. Got it. I'll pass everything inside," she said.
She hurried to slide the materials into the frozen corridor. At minus 270 degrees, everything was frosted solid. Once the last piece was inside, she climbed in as well.
"Okay, here's the plan," Osaka said. "First, brace it with the metal panels and beams. Ain't the real outer plating, but it'll hold. After that, lay down this sheet, spray on the heat-shield foam, and then sandwich it with another panel. Easy enough—so let's get to it."
Following his instructions, Naomi worked the welder. At first she fumbled—never having used tools like these—but repetition built rhythm, and slowly she gained confidence. The heat-shield spray foamed up, stiffening into solid insulation. It was trickier than it looked: she had to keep her body steady or risk drifting away.
"Haah! Done! That should hold, right?" she said through her helmet mic.
"Lookin' good," Osaka said. "Now we'll let in some air. At first you'll see a fine mist—watch it close. If anything leaks, we'll spot it right away."
He monitored through Naomi's helmet cam.
Shhhhhhh.
Air hissed into the chamber, fog swirling faintly. Naomi stared hard, holding the emergency patch spray ready in her hand. Unlike the foam, this was a quick sealant to plug any air leaks.
"Looks fine," she said with relief. "I was worried—this was my first time welding."
"Ya did just fine. This'll hold. Now we'll bring the pressure up. Once it's stable, the bulkhead doors'll unlock in sequence. Just hang tight," he said.
A pshhht later, the warehouse side door opened automatically.
"Hey, Naomi—check around that bulkhead in the passage," Osaka said. "I can't get remote control on it from here."
"Hm? Let's see... oh, here's the culprit."
She pointed at a metal rod jammed into the wall. It hadn't broken the seal, but it looked like it had caused an electrical fault.
"Ah, figures. Can you pull it out? Yeah, looks like you can. Good. Now reconnect those cut wires. Power's off, so no shock risk, but keep your gloves on—it's still freezing in there," Osaka instructed.
Naomi managed to splice the exposed cables. With that, the bulkhead finally slid open.
"We're good now, Serena!" Naomi called, waving in her suit.
Serena, still in her flowing white dress, floated gracefully into view. She waved back with a faint smile.
"Fufufu... how long do you plan on wearing that helmet?" she teased.
She drifted down the corridor, dress trailing like a cloud, until she reached Naomi and steadied herself with a gentle touch on her arm. She, too, wore gloves—clearly Osaka had warned her about the frost. Touching bare metal now would have frozen her skin solid.
"Oh, right. Air's cycling now—I don't need this anymore," Naomi said. She removed the helmet and tucked it under her arm.
"Brrr... it's cold. Serena, aren't you freezing in that outfit—nano?"
"Uuuhm, a little chilly~desuwa. Perhaps I'll change into a suit as well," Serena admitted.
"Yeah, that'd be best. Go ahead—this warehouse feels icy too," Naomi said.
Serena nodded and glided off toward the bridge to change.
"...So, this section was sealed off," Naomi said, waiting. "I should probably ask—there aren't, um... bodies left behind inside, are there?"
"That's fine," Osaka replied. "When the main engine got wrecked, the whole crew evacuated. Shame, though—the escape craft took a direct hit and blew apart."
"I see... so that's how it was—nano," Naomi said quietly. "Did this ship used to have a lot of people aboard?"
"Yeah. She's a light cruiser, mostly automated. With me backin' up, one captain could run her alone. But combat needs more hands—so normally a decent crew's required. Biggest muster was 'round three hundred. By the end, closer to a hundred," Osaka said.
"Whoa... that many. There's no way I could handle this ship by myself," Naomi murmured.
"Naomi, you waited for me?" Serena's voice came, lilting. She had returned, tall and elegant in a silver spacesuit. Even dressed like everyone else, her golden hair and poise lent her an unmistakable grace.
"Hm. Must be the noble blood—or maybe just that golden beauty of yours. Even in a suit, you look elegant," Naomi said with a grin.
"Pfft—what is that supposed to mean? A suit looks the same on anyone~desuwa," Serena said, laughing.
"Maybe... but I swear it feels different on you. Well, whatever. Let's get into the warehouse already!" Naomi said.
"Yes~desuwa, let's!" Serena replied brightly.
Beyond the sealed door lay a wide chamber, lined with towering cabinets stacked in tiers. Naomi slid one of the heavy, utilitarian panels aside, and inside she found row after row of silver, airtight containers. No dust, but frost clung thickly to their surfaces, proof they'd been kept at ultra-low temperatures for an impossibly long time.
"Hey... are these really edible? I mean, they're from a hundred years ago, right?" Naomi asked, holding up a long, navy-blue stick of something.
"Nah, nah. Try over two hundred years," Osaka said with a grin. "But don't worry. If the Imperial Army had one thing goin' for it, it was rations that lasted forever. And bein' stored at minus two-seventy? Safe as can be. Just don't expect 'em to taste good. Word is, about two-hundred-thirty years back, the Army even got sued over how awful the flavor was."
"That... was actually considered food? Serena, your ancestors—" Naomi started.
"Yes, I've heard of that," Serena cut in gently. "The army lost the case, and they were forced to redevelop the rations."
"Yeah," Osaka said. "But even then, rumor is the taste never got any better."
"..."
They pressed on, finding food packs, sealed water, even a device for water generation. But the greatest surprise sat forgotten in the corner of the warehouse: a single, lone container.
"Hm? Osaka, what's this?" Naomi asked.
"Hold up—show me the seal with the camera." His voice sharpened. "...What the—?! That's a Subspace Torpedo and its schematics! What the hell's a military secret like that doin' frozen in a food storehouse?"
"Uh—maybe they mistook it for a fish? You know... torpedo fish?" Naomi joked.
Osaka slapped his forehead. "What're ya talkin' 'bout? Only one fool could've stashed that here... and yeah, he was a fool through and through!"