>>5808784Your eyes roam the inside of the locker, but in the gloom there isn't much to make out. Used, empty equipment, something mounted to the upper corner- an alarm, possibly? Or an atmospheric sensor. meant to detect the fires the extinguishers are meant to put out. You fumble to it with a free hand, but as you blindly probe it, all you find is a cheap, encased sensor with a slit for detection.
A shadow crossed the gap of light streaming in from outside, and you leaned yourself back from it, while your head throbbed, pressure building in it like the tide.
Don't come any closer... <span class="mu-i">don't</span> come any closer...
“You coming or not man?” The feminine voice called.
“Huh? But I-” The voice stopped, apparently reconsidering himself. “Yeah, be right there.” It lingered for a second, then began walking off with a sigh of exasperation.
After a few seconds, you let a stream of breath out. At least you know that you were a trespasser, now. The relevant Imperial statues flash to your mind aimlessly, but you doubt this was the work of the authorities anymore.
You grip the inside seam of the locker door and lift up the small counterweight that was attached to the other side of the latch. The locking arms twisted, and you were able to stumble out of the locker, before turning and carefully shutting it. Sparing a glance over your shoulder and not seeing anyone watching you, you turn and find your way to the end of the corridor as fast as you can.
At the end, you find another termination - the corridor turned, but then abruptly terminated in a thick slab of welded metal. Unlike the one that had blocked the exit to the corpse-grinder, this one had been reinforced with angled braces punched into the floor, holding up the welded paneling so it couldn't be knocked down. It also seemed to be much thicker and heavier. Next to it, another hole had been punched in the hive structure, opening up an entrance into another impromptu room.
Ratty mattresses had been thrown on top of cargo crates, creating impromptu benches that clustered around a broken ventilation grate on sticks. Beneath it, a low-cetane promethium canister sat, flame issuing from a hole that had been carefully punched in the top to make an improvised burner that heated a small pot filled with a off-white stew. Cloth bags were strewn around the room, some bursting with random pieces of scrap metal, others empty, and there were a mismatched pair of dressers against one wall.
A camp, of some kind. Belonging to those people back there, maybe?
>[Vigilance/Strain] Rob the place before you go.>You really should keep moving before they come back. 