It wasn’t one of the cavernous aircraft storage facilities people tend to envision when you use the word hangar. At least, not currently. It had a massive, towering roof that lead all the way from the subbasement to the ground level where the bay doors were, but thin, temporary walls were dividing the full hangar up into a few dozen spaces just large enough to house a single ship and various pieces of repair and diagnostic equipment. It gave the place the overall atmosphere of the intensive care unit at a hospital, each bed separated off with curtains. In a way that’s what it was. Right now the patient was a mangled pile that the automated rovers had hauled in. It took a trained eye to even recognize it as a ship, let alone the one Lex had been piloting. Karter let out a low whistle. “That’s a CA double I revision... 34D, right?” he asked. “Uh... yeah, actually.” “Ni-i-i-ice. They don’t make them like this anymore. Well, they NEVER made them like this. Too many engine mounts.
