"This is a blank ship," Sandora said in a low voice, almost talking to herself as she looked at the dim, slanted abandoned corridor. "No place of origin, no serial number, not even a military insignia... Who on earth built this thing?"
At Sandora's reminder, I also noticed the strange details of this ship. We had been moving through its outer corridors for more than ten minutes, yet we had not seen anything that could indicate where the ship belonged. There were not even model numbers or equipment codes on anything. The lack of origin information could perhaps be explained—maybe this ship had been jointly built by multiple star regions, or perhaps its identification markings were elsewhere—but for even the devices embedded in the corridors to lack model information was highly unusual. "Don't dwell on it yet. Let's keep moving." Sandora shook her head and set the matter aside for the moment. We had only explored a small stretch of this Ghost Ship's corridors, after all. Any conclusion would be premature.
The group continued down the corridor leading toward the ship's Inner Area. There was still no gravity, no air, and no light. The alloy walls that should have gleamed brilliantly now looked lifeless. The psionic currents that had once flowed across them, along with the endlessly blinking equipment, had fallen completely silent. A faint layer of dust floated through the corridor, likely the remains of something that had weathered and crumbled away over the ages. Who knew how long that dust had drifted in zero gravity? Alaya released a gentle halo of light around herself, making the dust suspended in the vacuum more visible. LiliNa studied it thoughtfully, floated over to the nearby wall, and wiped her hand across it before rubbing her fingers together lightly. "Organic matter, but