Haven't written a story in a very long time, so please be as rude and condescending as possible, thank you. >The docking mechanism connected with a reassuring "Ka-Chunk". A small ship-side display flickered to life, to show nominal clamping force, along with a graphic representation of air pressure. > Laura touched a button. "Mute your ext mike, Sam. This will take a minute" A hissing sound began to swell in the previously silent airlock. > Her voice came through the helmet speakers loud and clearly. All business, and calm as usual. > "Acknowledged. Not my first rodeo, Captain." > She was ten years his elder and much more experienced, but took care not to rub it in and make him feel inferior. Although he'd been on his fair share of missions during the last few years, having a family back home meant he could not dedicate as much time to the job as Laura could, after she had lost hers. > He felt a tinge of anxiety. They had received the transponder signal a dozen times before, triangulated its position and plotted a course, only to find nothing but empty space after arriving. > This time was different. > The signal had suddenly popped up almost directly on their vector back home. Putting the drive into retro for a short time had been enough to let the AI handle the remaining difference in speed and rotation. > When the first glimpse of what they were approaching appeared on the main screen, it seemed tiny. As they closed the distance, it turned out what they had seen was only a specular reflection on the surface of its thrusters. The giant hull of the object was black and hard to distinguish from the darkness of interplanetary space. > Sam estimated it was at least five times bigger than their little patrol ship. The shape was so unfamiliar, it made him question what all the hours in the simulators, classifying ship types from every conceivable approach angle, had really been good for. > "You look stumped.", Laura's voice from behind made him realize he had been staring at the object in quiet fascination for quite some time. > "..." > "It's kind of a long shot, but could be one of the old weapons platforms from before the war." She seemed to talk as much to herself as at him. A mannerism he had seen before in people that spent a lot of time alone. > "Let me look something up, hang on a second." Her gaze went blank while her pupils moved up and to the left. A moment later, an image was overlaid on the main screen. > "It says it's an MF14 mobile fortress, serial number 88. Jesus, this fucker must be close to a hundred years old." He hadn't seen her this excited in ...well ...ever. > "I've heard of these." he said, "Thought they were all decomissioned after what happened with..." > "It's all coming back to me now!" She interrupted him, which was another first. "Unmanned, micro-singularity power source, air-gapped AI and rudimentary life support for maintenance crews. Modular energy weapon docks and two hulls so thick they'd be tough to crack even with what we could throw at them these days." > He raised his eyebrows and just looked at her. > "Sorry, Sam. Got a little carried away there. My old teacher at flight school was a nerd." > "That's quite alright, Captain." He gave a little smile. "Want to get up close and personal?" > "You bet. It's what they pay us for, after all." She closed her eyes. "Prepare our suits, I'll see if I can pull the docking handshake procedure from the archive."