Hailing Sutter's World

Wilson shifted uncomfortably as he slowly made his way to the bridge, following the orders of the captain.

Static buzzed in Rye’s ears, but no response came back. "Nothing... Alright, what the hell?"

"What‘s going on here, what’s the hold-up? I thought we were just a couple hours away from Sutter‘s, why aren’t they answering our damn hails. Where the hell are we?"

"Trying to figure that out. And trying to figure out why we read a ship for only a single ping on the board. Goooood, this couldn't have been an easy trip, could it?" replied Rye.

"So there’s a second ship in our proximity? Where’s Sutter’s, are we receiving any signs from them?" Wilson inquired, watching the screens of the bridge.

"You're welcome to try helping us figure all that out."

"Do I look like a trained comms officer? I would, but I doubt I’ve got the qualifications."

"Doesn't mean you can't try. It's not that hard, Wilson. I doubt you'll break anything."

"Sure," Wilson stated bluntly, clearly not happy about having to do some actual work. He sat down at one of the terminals and began punching in some queries.

Captain Miller attempted to hail Sutter’s World's secondary long range comms as well as ping their beacon tower. Still there was no respond to any hails. "What the hell?"

It had been a while for Wilson, but he did have some Comtech skill in his back pocket. He pulled up the navigation charts, finding something interesting but keeping it to himself.“No response here...either Sutter‘s has disintegrated or we‘re way off course," said Wilson frowning at his terminal as if it had come up with no results.

"Alright, this is pretty freaky..." Rye was never a really skittish man, but the thought of being lost in space was a daunting concept.

"Cap‘n can you check in with Mother?" asked Wilson.

Captain Miller's fingers hovered over the console as she muttered, "Disintegrated..." She shook her head. 'Corpo's got jokes.' They had to be off course. 'Damn it.'

With a sharp exhale, she typed in a series of commands to MU/TH/UR, her brow furrowing as she navigated through the ship’s interface. The clunky keyboard clicked with each entry as she initiated a check with their navigational systems and requested the planned trajectory.