A dull green glow flooded the engineering bay of the Firion. Grease-caked tools were scattered from the floor to the workbenches, and scattered alongside them were the parts of several dismantled systems of the ship. Mechanisms of varying complexity were in differing states of disassembly, screws and bolts shimmering in the radium-like glow of the shuddering light source just overhead. Positioned uneasily at the workbench against the far wall, back to the entryway, Regina Astra was hunched over the mechanical guts of the Firion’s fuel-injecting matter transporter.
In front of her, pressed carefully against the front of the work surface, rested the gorged shape of her bloated abdomen. Presently, Regina’s stomach was a heavy, swaying domed teardrop shape, glowing with a chemical light as its unnatural contents shifted and gurgled. She groaned, a hand covering her mouth as a bitter-tasting pocket of gas and droplets of glowing liquid forced its way up through the