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while they made their way back to the meeting spot by their pile of helmets. As much as she was an adventurer at heart, that little piece of shiny metal struck a chord with her. Her favorite books all had a bit of a romantic component to them. At the least there was a tragic loss of love that spurned the lead character into action. Maybe one day she would complete her revenge and take the time to find someone of her own. If she didn't die, that is.
    "So, we found jack and squat," called Torch, a bit more loudly than was strictly necessary. It hid the quaver in his voice well. Torch was a sly one. "How about you guys?"
    Pickle tried to reply, but her helmet muted her to near inaudibility. Hands scoffed at her and shook his head. "Only two doors. One is a sealed blast door that's probably covering the hallway that leads to the rest of the ship. The other one is a regular door that isn't even locked, so I would imagine it's not very important. We might as well go check it out though."
    Pickle tapped loudly on her helmet and then gestured toward the others on the floor.
    Torch nodded sagely. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea, Pickle. Since you have a helmet on, I think you would be a perfect candidate for an exploratory mission into this mysterious room. You never know what could be lurking inside."
    She gestured again toward the helmets and mimed putting one on. Gadget punched her lightly on the arm and then laughed. The rest of them joined in. Except for Pickle, whose shoulders slumped. Torch gestured for her to lead the way and she shuffled along reluctantly.
    Despite Pickle's fear, the room turned out to be a very ordinary head, equipped with two toilets in stalls, a shower, and a pair of sinks. It was all in the same drab grey metal as the rest of the ship. At least the toilet paper and soap provided some relief for their eyes, being pleasing shades of white and pink respectively. It's a dark day when toilet paper makes nice decoration.
    Gadget immediately ducked into one of the stalls with a sigh of relief. The rest of them excused themselves to give him some privacy. Pickle tried to say something again, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
    When they all shrugged and held a hand up to their ears, she finally ripped off her helmet in exasperation. "I said that man has the smallest bladder in all of Nedra. I'm not sure how he ever decided that being a Talon pilot was a good idea. He had to have pissed himself every day of flight school."
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    Days passed with little to differentiate them. Talk of being rescued died after the first day. None of them wanted to speculate about what had happened to the rest of the crew of the Harbinger if they hadn't come after them.
    The days were broken up only by the regular drops of supplies from a hole in the ceiling ten meters above them. Thanks to Hands' pocket watch, they noticed the boxes dropped every four hours, regardless of whether they needed more food or water. After a couple of days they had enough food and supplies left over to feed them all for a week, but still the rubbery grey boxes dropped like clockwork.
    The only real excitement came one day after yet another unnecessary supply drop. The five of them sat in a rough circle around their discarded flight suits, staring at them like they were a camp fire. Only Beatrix bothered to look up when the ceiling groaned, signaling the opening of the round supply hatch. It had been taunting her for days. It was the only possible exit they had found from their prison. Sadly, it was far too high for them to reach. She watched the grey cube tumble through the air and hit the floor with a dull thud. She climbed to her feet and walked over to it. It was the same size and shape as all the others, a rubbery cube of about sixty centimeters on a side. Beatrix resolutely pried it open.
    "I don't know why you bother," called Gadget, not even bothering to turn his head and look. "It's just more crappy rations