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The Zone
“…We need you on the bridge, now. Reading an extensive asteroid field. And… Oh my god!”
End voice log 2354.
Mox cleared his throat with a croak and stared at the dusty computer monitor. A green claw manicured to a point flicked off a chunky control switch and a lizard handprint was left behind on the panel. The large Komodo dragon in leather pants leaned into the ridged right angle contoured chair.
“They were out here exploring the Zone in this relic, it’s a good thing they believed in a god.” He spat out his serpentine tongue tasting the stale air of the derelict spaceship.
Mox transmitted his thoughts through an implanted neural device, a kind of technological telepathy.
“Can you get this jalopy started? The Kalgirrite must’ve got ’em when they entered the belt.”
Four sections back at the rear of the ship Bloc Wave received the communication on his bright yellow headphones. They matched his thermal goggles and velvet shorts perfectly. The androgynous jet-black-skinned being didn’t wear anything else. Rindos, though nothing like Varans, shared the advantageous spacer traits of longevity and temperature tolerance.
Wave focused his misty angelic eyes on the primitive propulsion system. He reached slender fingers into…
