Out in the gulf between worlds, the star gleamed brilliantly. No murky atmosphere caused any fluctuation of their light here; each star was distinctly clear, burning bright and steady in a jeweled mosaic set in a pitch-black firmament. From any mortal perspective, the heavens were frozen in place, motionless in their imperturbable dance orchestrated by the tenuous bonds of gravity that connected even the most far flung stars.
Yet, there was a motion amongst their divine number. Coasting steadily, a small ellipsoid vessel glided through space. No engines burned, no lights glowed; by all appearances, the ship was dead and as uncaring of its surroundings as the stars themselves. The chromed hull reflected the stars’ radiance wherever it wasn’t marred by the scars and scuffs of countless voyages.
The cabin of the small ship was dim, lit only by magnificent view from outside. A few objects stirred gently, wafted by rogue air currents as they lazily drifted in the weightless environs. Not even the hum of an environment plant disturbed the tomb-like peace. At the front of the ship, near the large windows of the cockpit, a body floated motionless in the space between the pilot and co-pilot’s seat. Only the slow rise and fall of respiration gave any sign of life.
The body let out a sigh, then lifted the deflated drink pod in its hand. Without taking eyes from the vista outside the window, the spacer angled the nozzle towards its mouth and carefully squeezed the pod flat, sending a thin driblet of dark beer floating through the air into the open and waiting mouth. Bringing the nozzle to its lips, the spacer diligently sought the last drops of precious nectar before conceding defeat. With a gentle shove, the depleted pod was sent coasting through the air towards the back of the cabin, joining the cache of emptied pods already gently spiraling through the air.
The spacer reached out, deftly snaring a box floating nearby. Unsealing a flap, a questing hand reached inside, but returned no treasure. The spacer frowned, and brought the box to eye level, revealing the box was completely bare. A brief shake of the box confirmed that there were no lurkers hiding within, but that the stash of liquid treasure had been completely pillaged.
The spacer sighed, then sent the box to join its former inhabitants at the back of the cabin. A gentle, easy somersault spun the spacer into the pilot’s chair with barely a bounce, where he hooked a hand under the console and found a hidden switch. With a gentle snap, the cockpit lights slowly came up as the life support resumed its nearly inaudible hum. The detritus wafting about the cabin suddenly descended to the floor as the artificial gravity reinstated itself. Lights danced over the status readouts as the ship re-awoke, a gentle whine building into a thrumming vibration as the engines came alive and broke the ship from its ballistic trajectory.
The spacer scratched their face, taking the control yoke as all systems signaled ready. Swinging the nose around, a few deft commands awoke a new response from the ship as the quantum drive began charging. The pilot grunted, then looked startled at the first human sound in several… days? Hours? Time lost its meaning out here. The only measure was the now-empty pods scattered across the floor of the Freelancer… and by that measure, it was time to find another job.
Yet, there was a motion amongst their divine number. Coasting steadily, a small ellipsoid vessel glided through space. No engines burned, no lights glowed; by all appearances, the ship was dead and as uncaring of its surroundings as the stars themselves. The chromed hull reflected the stars’ radiance wherever it wasn’t marred by the scars and scuffs of countless voyages.
The cabin of the small ship was dim, lit only by magnificent view from outside. A few objects stirred gently, wafted by rogue air currents as they lazily drifted in the weightless environs. Not even the hum of an environment plant disturbed the tomb-like peace. At the front of the ship, near the large windows of the cockpit, a body floated motionless in the space between the pilot and co-pilot’s seat. Only the slow rise and fall of respiration gave any sign of life.
The body let out a sigh, then lifted the deflated drink pod in its hand. Without taking eyes from the vista outside the window, the spacer angled the nozzle towards its mouth and carefully squeezed the pod flat, sending a thin driblet of dark beer floating through the air into the open and waiting mouth. Bringing the nozzle to its lips, the spacer diligently sought the last drops of precious nectar before conceding defeat. With a gentle shove, the depleted pod was sent coasting through the air towards the back of the cabin, joining the cache of emptied pods already gently spiraling through the air.
The spacer reached out, deftly snaring a box floating nearby. Unsealing a flap, a questing hand reached inside, but returned no treasure. The spacer frowned, and brought the box to eye level, revealing the box was completely bare. A brief shake of the box confirmed that there were no lurkers hiding within, but that the stash of liquid treasure had been completely pillaged.
The spacer sighed, then sent the box to join its former inhabitants at the back of the cabin. A gentle, easy somersault spun the spacer into the pilot’s chair with barely a bounce, where he hooked a hand under the console and found a hidden switch. With a gentle snap, the cockpit lights slowly came up as the life support resumed its nearly inaudible hum. The detritus wafting about the cabin suddenly descended to the floor as the artificial gravity reinstated itself. Lights danced over the status readouts as the ship re-awoke, a gentle whine building into a thrumming vibration as the engines came alive and broke the ship from its ballistic trajectory.
The spacer scratched their face, taking the control yoke as all systems signaled ready. Swinging the nose around, a few deft commands awoke a new response from the ship as the quantum drive began charging. The pilot grunted, then looked startled at the first human sound in several… days? Hours? Time lost its meaning out here. The only measure was the now-empty pods scattered across the floor of the Freelancer… and by that measure, it was time to find another job.
