Cold Storage

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The cold, grey hulk of the Rostelana drifted silently through space. Far from the shipping lanes or common routes, the light cruiser floated in silence. Her lights were dark, engines still, and not even her locator beacon pinged. The Rostelana was a dead ship, and from the scorched holes surrounding her engines, it was easy to see why.

For over one hundred years, she had floated along, her fusion reactors having died out long, long ago, as had any who had ever served as her crew. Pocked by weapons fire and metorites alike, her skin was blemished and broken, but inside many of her halls still held air untasted in over a century. Cargo floated freely about her hold, save for one item: a box strapped down to the floor. The blinking lights on its side were the only illumination left running within the whole ship, and the only sign of power that would register on a scanner. The box itself was large, taller than a man, and wider, but it was not a coffin.

After all, one doesn't put a living subject in a coffin.