A small outpost of the far rim of the sector, the tiny station was a tin can floating next to a pockmarked asteroid. It served only as a listening post for radio communications between ships and the sol system. The occupants long since dead. She and Marcus found what was left of them strewn across the control room when they arrived. The hallway was particularly small and cramped and dark with the lights out. The damn thing they were hunting had gotten into the wiring system and ripped it apart. She and Marcus were working only by the flashlights affixed to the muzzles of their weapons. They had to stay alert, but the humidity and extreme heat in the small space made Kerry feel fuzzy. It had also gotten into the temp control system and seemed to prefer the atmosphere inside be much like its own environment. Tropical and sticky. Sweat ran down Kerry's face and neck, pooling between her breasts and the armor plating she wore to protect herself from the creatures they hunted. She was sweating all over underneath her suit.
