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• MIRIALAN MICAL KOTOR CRACK

"Find what you are looking for amongst the dead?" Her voice was low for a woman's, slightly rough-and familiar. Meetra picked up the belt, turned to leave, and nearly died of fright: the 'dead' woman was standing between her and the door. It held a pair of empty pouches, a sheath for a short blade-and a plasma torch. Ah! Finally, some good luck. The miner's clothing had been shredded and burnt by an explosion in the tunnels, but his tool belt was intact. Meetra searched the dead man's personal effects. A dead miner lay on the slab next to her, under a sheet. The old woman Meetra had arrived with lay on a slab, dressed in a set of brown and tan robes. No such luck-the main door was the only way in or out. She used the medical officer's authorization to open the morgue door, hoping for another exit to get around the blocked passageway. Someone just tried to kill me, and they didn't care that four other people would die too. This had been lethal to the miners, but Meetra had fortunately resisted the poisoning. The five kolto tanks had all been programmed to administer an overdose of sedatives. That didn't explain the dead men in the kolto tanks Meetra looked deeper.

Shortly after she was brought aboard, an explosion in the mine had killed and injured several miners. The only other person on board was an old woman, dead on arrival. The ship was badly damaged, apparently by laser fire. She had arrived unconscious, aboard a light freighter. Much of the data was corrupted, but what was left was fairly sinister. A little slicing, and she had access to the medical officer's files. There wasn't much inside, just a few medpacs mounted to the wall and a lab bench for synthesizing medicines. Meetra opened the office door and began to search. Two other doors opened off either side of the hallway they were marked 'morgue' and 'medical office.' The morgue was locked, but the office sounded promising. The corridor was blocked by a pressure door with a damaged locking mechanism. There was nothing useful in the room, so Meetra headed out the door and down the hall. It fit well and showed off her athletic figure to advantage, but she'd rather not be in an unfamiliar place in skivvies-and the metal deck was cold for bare feet. She was wearing only a one-piece spacer's undergarment.

Meetra looked at herself: Slightly above average height, forty-six years old, body toned by regular exercise. Her brown hair was cut to frame her face, coming down to her jawline in front in back, it hung to just below her shoulder blades. The only standout feature of her face was a pair of bright blue eyes. Meetra was plainly pretty, or pretty plain, she could never decide. There were four men in other kolto tubes, but they appeared to be dead. How did I get here? More important, where is here? She looked around the room. She was in the recovery ward of a starship or space station medical facility. She opened her eyes without pain this time, and took a look around. Meetra recognized her mental fog as the aftereffects of a sedative. She picked up the too-sweet, vegetal odor of kolto. Everything tilted, and she was lying on a firm surface, plasteel maybe. She moved her arms and legs, but she couldn't feel anything. She heard a muffled beeping, and the world lurched. Her arms and legs felt sluggish, and she couldn't focus.

MIRIALAN MICAL KOTOR CRACK

Her eyes opened a crack the light hurt too much and she shut them again.