This is clearly not my own work. I take no responsibility for things contained within. This is all on youse.
The thing was bigger than he remembered. Not in a Whovian way where it was bigger on the inside, this was just a hulking mess in space. At first, it looked much the same, but then a slight twist revealed that the damn thing went on for miles. It looked like a jumbled concoction of ships and stations, all welded haphazardly together. Some were clearly new, while others had seen better days. One hub was covered in thick mud as if it had been pulled from Dragonsnake Bog before the sentient metal repair spiders had done their work attaching it.
Dave was in awe, and that was before he had even set foot inside. Something was drawing him in, and he wasn't sure if it was intrigue, or gravity. A quick check of his instruments revealed that he had zero sophistication and no fucking clue either which way. His "black box," as he called it, blinked to indicate that it is detecting data. By the look of it, lots of data.
Finding a docking port was easy enough, though, with just about every configuration accounted for at one point or another. He passed a sleek black and red Hunter ship with a large gold star emblem adorning the back and personalised plates LIN01. Not the kind of ship you wanted to scratch. So Dave found a compatible link a couple of spaces over, clamping next to a beat-up Zone Jumper ship, before heading for the airlock.
Someone had changed the pass code, but that didn't matter. Stuck above the keypad on a post-it note were some digits.
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"1 - 2 - 3 - 4....Fuck! They are just letting anyone in aren't they." Dave said to himself.
First impressions were that the ship was derelict. It was still broadcasting, and the power was on. The atmosphere checked out, even if the quality varied from room to room. At the docking station, Dave still hadn't seen or heard from a soul, with the exception of a huge cluster of ruby red tooth beetles that scurried for cover at his approach. He half expected them to be sentient or flesh-eating, but they just clustered in groups as far out of reach as they could get. If the beetles weren't in charge of this dock, then maybe some idiot machine was. Tapping the login screen and repeating "hello" into the mic got a hurried response from someone who seemed like they already had their hands full.
"Hey. Welcome." A woman's voice came through.
"Hi... I used to hang here..." Dave started before getting cut off.
"Cool make yourself at home." The voice replied.
"Um ok, who is this?" Dave asked. "And any suggestions on a good spot to make a 'home'."
