The vast expanse of Covenant technology within the downed ship seemed like such a waste but slowly she sorted through what needed kept and would could be parted or scrapped. A breeze slipped through the hangar's bay door, temporarily relieving the stuffy atmosphere thick with particulates. It had been near impossible to import what was needed for repairs without an exorbitant cost and each day hope for the necessary parts dwindled.
Ash had dabbled in trade since arriving, putting her skills to use on a case by case basis but never making a commitment to any employer beyond single missions. Cash in hand was cash in hand and beyond that she held out hope that she would leave this backwater world behind. The one year anniversary of her arrival was met with a pity party of epic proportions and the dreaded realization that she may be here to stay. It had taken weeks to break the solemn mood that lingered over her head like a perpetual storm cloud but finally she snapped out of it. The RASG job offer was reviewed for what felt like the millionth time and finally she resigned herself to the fact that she needed something steady if she wanted to make it here.
Several buyers had made their way through her bay in the seedier section of Stars End Starport. It was cheap. Easy on the bills. They seemed uneasy but she had what they were looking for so their interest outweighed their fear for their personal safety. Finally she was left with a pockets heavy with credits and a pile of tech and weaponry left over from the ship, after all she had first pick from the ship before she would even entertain offers. Two pallets, each stacked six feet high. That's all that was left of her connection to home, as alien as it was. The droids wheeled the pallets behind her, following as she made her way to her new 'home', a warehouse-esque room outfitted with life's necessities. It was cheap. Easy on the bills. And it sort of reminded her of the ship with its metal walls and minimal furnishings.
Four hundred eight days had passed since her arrival and she was no closer to home than she had been on day one. It was time to write it off as a loss and do as Spartans do; adapt, change, survive.
Ash had dabbled in trade since arriving, putting her skills to use on a case by case basis but never making a commitment to any employer beyond single missions. Cash in hand was cash in hand and beyond that she held out hope that she would leave this backwater world behind. The one year anniversary of her arrival was met with a pity party of epic proportions and the dreaded realization that she may be here to stay. It had taken weeks to break the solemn mood that lingered over her head like a perpetual storm cloud but finally she snapped out of it. The RASG job offer was reviewed for what felt like the millionth time and finally she resigned herself to the fact that she needed something steady if she wanted to make it here.
Several buyers had made their way through her bay in the seedier section of Stars End Starport. It was cheap. Easy on the bills. They seemed uneasy but she had what they were looking for so their interest outweighed their fear for their personal safety. Finally she was left with a pockets heavy with credits and a pile of tech and weaponry left over from the ship, after all she had first pick from the ship before she would even entertain offers. Two pallets, each stacked six feet high. That's all that was left of her connection to home, as alien as it was. The droids wheeled the pallets behind her, following as she made her way to her new 'home', a warehouse-esque room outfitted with life's necessities. It was cheap. Easy on the bills. And it sort of reminded her of the ship with its metal walls and minimal furnishings.
Four hundred eight days had passed since her arrival and she was no closer to home than she had been on day one. It was time to write it off as a loss and do as Spartans do; adapt, change, survive.