The Bridge

The bridge of the USCSS Montero greets Rye with its dim, utilitarian atmosphere. The low ceilings and narrow aisles were lined with rows of blinking consoles, their monochrome screens flickering with vector graphics, ship diagnostics, and navigation data. The air hummed and chittered with the sound of electronics, and the faint scent of metal and oil lingered even here. Worn, tactile controls, clunky buttons, levers, and physical keyboards, filled the space, all showing signs of years of hard use and jerry-rigged fixes.

Rye took a seat and started the systems diagnostic, sighing softly as he did so. But he smiled, as he always enjoyed working with electronics like this. It brought an odd sort of joy to him. What little there was to be had on a Wey-Yu ship.

Rye settled into the worn seat, the console creaking slightly beneath him. With a flick of switches and a few taps on the well-worn keyboard, the system hummed to life. The screen flickered, green text scrolling across the display as the diagnostics came in.

A sharp ping broke the routine. The console’s screen flashed, an unfamiliar blip appearing on the radar. Before Rye could react, MU/TH/UR’s calm yet mechanical voice echoed through the bridge, cutting through the silence:

…Alert. Unidentified vessel approaching. Estimated range: 150,000 kilometers and closing...

The faint pulse of the incoming ship’s aftward signal lingered for a moment before it disappeared. Rye attempted to relocated the ping, but was unable to do so. A moment later the Captain entered the bridge.

“What is it? I swear if I have to deal with a colonial pickett ship before we land on Sutter’s this time…I’m gonna lose it.”

"No... I don't think it's that. I'd be getting more than just one ping. Weird... Can't really get a lock on it."

"Aft side... 150k kilometers... Hey, maybe we should slow down. Try to get a lock on its location before we keep goin'. I'd rather not collide with them."

Captain Miller narrowed her eyes and moved in closer to Rye, glancing over the radar screen as he worked the controls.

“Aft side at 150k…just one ping?” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “That’s odd.”

She exhaled sharply and placed a hand on the back of Rye’s chair, her voice steady but with a hint of annoyance. “Alright, let’s not take any chances.” Her gaze shifted back to the console. “Rye, keep scanning. If that ship’s out there, I want eyes on it. Last thing we need is an unmarked vessel sneaking up on us in the middle of nowhere.” She stood upright, her mind already running through possible scenarios and started over to her console and typed in a command to the ship’s AI.

// Initiate deceleration - 0.25 speed.

…Affirmative…Deceleration in progress… came the voice over the intercom.

Captain Miller watched the screen intently as the ship’s systems responded, the subtle hum of the engines shifting as the USCSS Montero began to slow. The steady vibration beneath her feet lessened as the deceleration kicked in.

No matter what Rye did, he couldn’t seem to find the signal again.

"Maybe Wilson will have some better luck with it. Have you tried hailing Sutter’s World, yet?” she asked the technician as she walked over to the intercom."

"No, not yet. Was busy with the diagnostic first. Lemme try that."

He slid his way over to the communication controls and put on the headphones.

"Hello hello, this is USCSS Montero calling Sutter's World Traffic Control, do you read, over?"

Miller pressed the button and her voice came over the ship's speakers, "Wilson. Loughty. We could use you on the bridge. Cham, take a water bottle and some chow with you and get down to that cargo.”