Up the creek

[Suria]

The warp gate opened before her, the shining lights something she had become used to long ago. Work seemed to be few and far between as of late, and even she had no idea why she had traveled this far looking for simple pay. Perhaps she had come for the view of the trinary stars that made this sector their home and for the beauty they offered to the eyes.

With a nonchalant movement her hands set course for the nearest dock, the cruise engines revving to life. Her ship was fairly new, and thus yet to be christened. The shopkeeper had told her it would be bad luck to fly an unnamed ship, but she had told him that’s why it had a serial number. The same movement went over to her radio, turning the dial back up to a more audible volume. Her dislike for the civil bickering between nations had made her develop the habit of keeping transmissions to a minimum, letting her guns do all of the talking.

A transmission, oddly enough all the way out there, came through the line almost instantly. She didn’t comprehend the message as much as the voice of the stranded pilot. She leaned forward; eyes alight with a blue fire, ignited by excitement. She took up the navigation controls and started forward, trying to calm her nerves. “This is freelancer Suria, I’ve received your distress call. What’s your status?” She knew not if whoever had started the distress call would still be breathing, but if the wolves tattooed upon the spacecraft gave any clues, Suria expected a very event filled day. Regardless of whether they decided to answer her or not, she engaged the towing system on her vessel.