The power flowed into a subsystem of the navigation computer. A surprisingly primitive function that interfaced all of the what one might consider more important functions, pulling from ship system status and star charts and performance data on ship resources including the crew. The intersection of a lot of critical systems.

All of these other systems had collapsed over the centuries upon centuries. As one would expect. So why was there a spark alive on a fiber shard marking the intersection of thousands of avenues of information?

How can I get this out?

Like everything else, the whole affair was covered in deep dust. They brushed aside until they got to the seams in the console. There were what looked to be screws holding closed some sort of access hatch. Someone else would have had a hell of a time prying this open, probably relying on a plasma cutter of some sort, but they were a surgeon where this kind of thing was involved. Never destroy anything for two reasons: first, some collectors love the packaging as much as the object, and second you never know what actually might be important until you’ve done all your research.

What looks like an errant hair could be a thin antenna, easy to brush away but without which the entire system would be dead.

Air was running short so it was time to go back to the ship to dig through their antique tools. They were particularly fond of antique tools, hanging them all over the walls of her engineering space. Sure, they’d never used some of them but they looked nice and, well, you never know.

Back at the Basra, Flux sat their helmet down on a pad and the video recording was spooled into the ship’s systems. A three dimensional model, scaled to be presented down onto the top of the table in the kitchenette, popped into view.