The small craft entered the black bay of the Ahmensia. It was apparent that something disastrous had happened long ago that destroyed the hatch doors. As if entering a huge yawning toothless mouth frozen in time of some great monster from Grufentower on Ahmantec, it would never close again.
Both ahmans exited their shuttle wearing their padded flexible protective gear and oxy-packs on their waist belts. The Second Officer and the Historian turned on their personal guide lights attached to their chests, and proceeded to examine their surroundings. They made their way to a door that read EXIT TO BOW in ahmanese.
The Historian pressed a button that slid the hatch door aside. After they had entered, the door closed resealing itself from the vacuum of space.
A voice advised them to move forward into the next room. When they did, the next hatch door repeated its action. The voice stated they could remove their oxygenated helmets. An air tester was engaged near the side of their suits, and proved that the air was stale but breathable.
The room they stood in was poorly lit by the lack of power on board; but what they did see astonished them. Damage was everywhere, burned sections, and objects scattered about the floor. To their left a door slid opened revealing an younger phirmian dressed in a tattered reddish cloak with braided edges. Metal or objects that glistened in the dim light dangled and swayed on the fabric as the ahman strolled into the room.
The stranger sported a dark blue vest with black leggings that covered down to the top of its feet. Not something a self-respecting ahman would wear. Boots were worn that made a crunching sound as the ahman walked toward the three visitors.