Abandoned 1-05

Abandoned 1-05
My footsteps sounded so loud! I resisted the urge to tiptoe -- hard to tiptoe in workboots at any rate -- and paused only when I reached the main entryway. I glanced quickly into the library then through the opposite corridor to the dayroom, both of which were dark and silent, then picked up my pace again until I reached the closed hatch to the Captain's office. The status board showed that it was sealed but of course as First Mate I have access to all parts of the ship, even the Captain's office.

It was empty and in its usual state of cleanliness, making my nose prickle at the smell of spoiled coffee cream and moldy sandwiches. From the extent of the mold, I calculated that it had been at least a week since the assigned flunky had cleaned it last, but that was more or less average: it was hard to catch the Captain on the lower decks; he spent most of his time on the bridge or in his cabin.

I reached under the back of his desk, flicked a switch, and pulled the desk away from the bulkhead. A little drawer slid out of the bulkhead. Checking my clothes, I found a stray hair and spiraled it into the drawer. It slid back into the bulkhead and, a second and a faint gasp of compressed air later, a much larger drawer spanning the entire width of the desk sprang a centimeter or so out of the bulkhead.

I wrestled the desk further away from the bulkhead (costing me one smashed index finger and a future bruise on my right knee) and pulled the drawer completely out. There was no way the Captain had accessed its contents when the ship was taken over -- every weapon lay snugly in its little plastic cradle, every piece of ammunition packed tightly in the small bins set into the sides of the drawer. This was our last-ditch arms stash in the event we were cut off from the cargo bay and armory.