From the cargo hold you can only ascend the stairs, entering into a narrow passageway that branches off usually into descending stair wells or even narrower corridors. The main hall eventually leads to the bridge.

Extending the length of the ship the main deck is the most direct access to any one point aboard Lucy.

While this room has all the amenities of a command center on board a ship there seems to be no actual controls. No dials, no steering knobs, only a pale, greenish organic light emanating from liquid in pod like fixtures overhead. There's an eerie feeling of expectancy as well as the feeling of being watched.

Perhaps the two most awe inspiring and frightening rooms of the entire ship are the engine rooms that can be reached via long, narrow corridors branching off from the main hall. The walk is long and dark however the closer you get to your destination the brighter it becomes with a thick layer of grime and sand coating everything. There is a distinct line between the eerie cleanliness of the main ship and the filth of the engine room drawn by simple hatch-like doors.
Upon entering either engine room you are now roughly between thirty and forty feet up in the air supported by a narrow catwalk. The engines appear to be badly damaged and the propellers turn lazily in the desert winds. You are almost sure that if they were to start with you standing there that you would be knocked to your death. The metal that once encased the engine rooms is scorched and partially melted.

Accessible via several stairwells branching off the main deck the middle deck is wider housing the sick bay and the cabins.The name is somewhat misleading as the middle deck is not a singular deck but three with low ceilings. All sleeping quarters are in good repair with freshly made beds and a distinctly fresh scent in the air to the crispness of the bedding as if freshly made for a guest or a returning family member. Strange personal effects (some mundane, others alien) are set up neatly on available counter space and queerly free of dust.

At the farthest end of each middle deck floor built under the cargo bay are expansive sky-blue rooms. The walls and floor seamlessly meld into one another sharing the same slick, skid resistant surface. The ceiling is made of flat, dim lights that glow pale, cheery colors and imitate the movement of water. It's made clear by the many beds sectioned off by semi-opaque, green plastic curtains waiting to be made and the many strange instruments not unlike what was modern medical equipment neatly set out that these rooms make up the sick bay.

Not unlike the many other rooms on the ship there is a sectioned off and locked area towards the very back of each room where the lights fail to turn on. The lock cannot be picked nor the barrier between you and the unknown tampered with. Perhaps it's simply the fact that you're in an alien hospital of sorts or some honest threat but the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the room is horribly fouled the further into the dark you move.

In the center of the middle deck bisecting all three floors there is a large circular arena glowing brightly under a wide, flat overhead light. Gleaming white with a slow steady pulse of energy vibrating off the pale walls and the faint chirp of electronics lining the walls is oddly trance-like.
If one goes looking they'll find the walls are false, hollow, however there is no conceivable way to open them as there appear to be no triggers, no handles, no levers.

The largest of the three decks with high ceilings and wide, expansive rooms with a distinctly earthy scent to the main chamber. Oddly enough the running of water can be heard just on the other side of the great dividing wall as well as what you know in your heart of hearts to be animals despite the absolute impossibility of it all. Over head lights imitate the cycle of day and night though the rhythm is unnatural. The nights are far too long and the daylight seems cast from two originating points.
The originating room in the under deck serves as a mess hall and galley of sorts though the cooking devices are strange and confounding. With no fresh food to be found there is always a chance that the many cupboards might hold something of interest.