The lower maintenance corridor seemed to stretch for miles, a dark, flickering walk of extrude-honed segments of rubber, plastic, and steel. The track lighting sat low to the floor, a dimming pulse of red, glinting off of the mesh catwalk flexing beneath his feet. The intercom crackled overhead, scratching unintelligibly to life. “Just one more junction,” he shouted as he gathered his canvas duffel closer to him, narrowly squeezing through the maze of hanging wires and debris, “then we’ll be ready to re-initialize the logistics core.” The crackle of the com unit cut in and out, cutting him off.
“The what?” The familiar disembodied voice of the friendly, yet obnoxious ship AI chirped over the coms static.
“THE LOGISTICS CORE,” he repeated forcefully, trying to cut through the noise. He stood for a moment, inspecting the damaged com unit bolted to the wall, and muttering to himself, lamenting yet another thing he’ll have to fix before going back into stasis.
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