Dylan Matthews was drumming his fingers to the sound of his favorite song - Skinny Mursk by The UFOs - which he knew was just a generic pop song with no real meaning, but it had a catchy tune. He had found himself in a bar earlier that evening and decided to stick around to pass the time. He just had an argument over the phone with Izzie about his lack of time off with her. He knew she had a point, but frankly, he loved his job. If he could, he would gladly spend the rest of his days flying throughout the galaxy going from space station to space station, with the occasional visit to a planet.

His thoughts and silent drumming were stopped when the Lieutenant Colonel sauntered over to him. Already knowing what brought him over, Dylan calmly clasped his hands and awaited his orders. Never a dull moment in his line of work.

“Sergeant Matthews, I’ve got an assignment for you I think you’ll enjoy.”

That doesn’t sound good, he mused to himself.

“I need you and your team to inspect an abandoned Mursk space station. Our new sensors just detected it hiding behind a star relatively close to Dar’Whaki territory. You know the drill, Matthews. Legs up in fifteen. We’ll give you more info on the station once you’re in the sky.”

Dylan sighed. “Yessir.”

While he would normally be ecstatic at the sound of seeing an abandoned Mursk station, its proximity to Dar’Whaki space means there is a risk they’ll run into some of them. This scenario would mean bad news for the humans as the Dar’Whaki are a significantly older species with far better technology. While the distance between the two species technologically has been shrinking, it’s still quite far.

“Let’s get the crew ready to go then,” Dylan said to himself.

He gets up and looks at the bar around him.

“I’ll need to come back here again at some point.”

With that, Dylan leaves the bar and heads back to base to prepare for his mission. He decides to go back the same way he took to get to the bar in the first place.

Outside, he can’t help but marvel at how much technology has changed in his lifetime. Electric vehicles had been the ideal mode of transport when he was a child, but now, maglevs were the norm when it came to public transport, and private cars had all but vanished with the rise of fully-autonomous hydrogen-fueled cabs.

Other than looking at the world around him, the walk back to base was uneventful.

He walks up to the gate and sees Craig - the guy who’s usually in charge of the checkpoint. “Hey, Craig. How’s it going?”

“Oh, hiya Matthews. I’ll let you in.”

The gate grinds against the ground as it moves, revealing the base behind it. The base itself is made up of a group of fairly nondescript concrete buildings that form a circle around the central field, where there are usually a few people working out.

Dylan makes his way through the field and heads to the briefing room where his crew should be. Reaching the briefing room, he sees he is the last person to make it there.

“Nice of you to join us Matthews. Now that you’re here, let’s discuss what your mission is.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant Colonel Adams. I won’t do it again,” Dylan said with an obvious sarcastic undertone.

“Whatever Matthews,” he said. While he would normally not let someone speak like that around him, he let it slide. After all, Matthews and his squad are among the best the Space Corps has to offer. “Now, today’s mission requires utmost stealth as you will be dangerously close to Dar’Whaki territory. I think we all know how lethal they can be when someone infringes upon their space.”

The crew all nod, sharing knowing looks.

“Our new sensors aboard the Marks Station have allowed us to discover an abandoned Mursk station that could hold valuable information we don’t want getting into the wrong hands. I want you all to inspect the station and bring back anything you think has some worth.”

Understanding the importance of this mission, the crew look at each other and nod in acknowledgement. The last thing anyone in the galaxy needs is for the Dar’Whaki to get a hold of something that could make them even more powerful than they already are.

With all this in mind, the squad prepares for the mission by heading to the ship hangar where their ship is.

Fletcher, the pilot, glides his hand along the ramp leading up to the ship’s interior. “Now this is what I call a ship. I bet she’ll tear right through space with her FTL engines. She’ll fuck anyone up who even tries to follow us. What engine is this, a third generation Rolls Royce Tweed 370?”

Adams rolls his eyes at Fletcher’s language. “I believe it is.”

Fletcher lets out a little squeal and runs up the rest of the ramp, presumably to examine the flight deck.

Dylan shakes his head and steps aboard the spacecraft. While he doesn’t have the same eye for the details of the ship like Fletcher, he can still recognize a quality ship when he sees one, and, this, is a very high-quality ship. He lets out a low whistle.

The rest of the crew has similar reactions to the ship as they each get in. At this point, they are eager to start their mission and see how the ship flies.

In his command chair, Dylan looks through the mission files to see if there is any other information he needs to take into account before they leave.

“Okay gentlemen, I’ve got some more info for the mission. The space station is a class four research station that looks to have been abandoned for around 50 years now, based on its awkward orbit and how much we assume it has devolved from its original orbit. This seems to have been rogue Mursk because of its distance from Mursk territory and its small size. This means we need to keep our eyes open the whole time. We don’t know what experiments these Mursk did, but whatever they did, it was bad enough for them to be willing to risk setting up camp by Dar’Whaki space.”

With the new information, the crew shifts uncomfortably. No one likes rogue Mursk. Unlike normal Mursk, these do not have the same strict moral code they usually have, which means they will do anything to perform their experiments regardless of how unethical it may be. A number of humans throughout history disappeared with a trace, which was assumed to have been simple cases of people fleeing their lives, but modern analysis suggests it may have been rogue Mursk that stole them from their homes.

Fletcher performs his final pre-flight checks and warms up the engines. The plan is to do a brief warp up to just above Earth’s atmosphere, and then head off to the station after adjusting the FTL engines to interstellar travel.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to Fletcher Spacelines. Please be sure to remain buckled into your seats at all times during the first leg of our journey. The bathroom is located just outside of the flight deck, so if any of you need to show off what you had for lunch, please do so there.” The crew can feel the gentle thrum of the engines turn on. “Now, as the magnificent and beautiful pilot prepares for the initial jump, be sure to look out the window to look at the wonderful scenery of the hangar. Thank you for flying with Fletcher.”

The crew lets out a brief chuckle before the jolt of the jump initiating shocks them. And just like that, the ship is in space.

“The trip should only be about a week from here. The target is roughly 900 light-years away.” Fletcher told the crew.

Even though Dylan would do anything for his crew, he knew it would be a long seven days being in such a confined space with them. As such, he made sure to come prepared. He nods to his crew and heads to his private quarters, a small room, but it was his, which is not something anyone else in the crew could say. He pulls out his tablet and opens up his book on Mursk history.

Charlie “Chuck” Fletcher has always been a fan of FTL travel, even when he was just a kid. He knew that when he grew up, he wanted to be a pilot.

His grandfather had been one before he died of cancer. Even with the technological advances of the 23rd century weren’t enough to stop stage four lung cancer.

Fletcher had always been close with his grandfather. After all, he had been the one to raise him because his parents wanted nothing to do with him. Fletcher’s parents thought having a child would save their marriage and bring the two back to the same page, but if anything, it made it worse. His parents divorced less than a year after he had been born and they dumped him with his mother’s father. Fletcher’s grandfather would not let him grow up in foster care and volunteered to raise him.

Fletcher’s grandfather was the father he needed. He took Fletcher on plane rides in his small plane whenever he could. His joy for flying passed down onto Fletcher and led him to pursue flying as a career.

However, when Chuck was 16, his grandfather got lung cancer, which rapidly spread throughout his body. He died less than six months later.

Lost in his grief, Chuck became recluse. He had to organize the funeral since his mother hadn’t contacted him in years and his grandmother passed away before he was born, which left him as the sole relative capable of doing it.

He had all but given up on life. He was at the store picking up instant noodles when he accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Hey, aren’t you Ned’s grandson, Chuck?”

“Yes, why?”

“Sorry, he and my grandpa were really close. The two of them would go flying together when they were younger. If you ever need anything, feel free to call me.” The man puts his phone next to Chuck’s and adds his contact information.

“Thank you, I guess. Who are you?”

The man lets out a laugh. “Sorry about that. I should have introduced myself. I’m Dylan, Dylan Matthews.”

Chuck got to know Dylan more, and within a few months, the two had become good friends. Dylan told him about his life in the military, and Chuck expressed his desire to be a pilot. With his help, Chuck signed up for the military as soon as he was able to and set off to become a space pilot so that he may one day fly spacecraft throughout the galaxy.

Five years later, Fletcher finds himself being asked to join Dylan’s crew. Today is his first mission after getting clearance to start working officially. The job, explained by Lieutenant Colonel Adams, is to inspect a Mursk space station.

As everyone leaves to go to the ship hangar, Fletcher is pulled aside by Adams.

“Are you ready for this Fletcher?” Adams said.

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, your ride for this mission is going to be slightly different to what you are used to from the simulators. You’re going to be piloting what is technically still a prototype - a Void Class cruiser.”

Fletcher’s jaw drops in surprise. “Did you say Void Class? As in, sixty-five thousand times the speed of light Void Class?”

“Yes, the ship is a modified exploration corvette capable of reaching up to sixty-five thousand times the speed of light. The U.N.S. Star Rider, as it has been dubbed, is currently the fastest ship humanity has ever created. The ship’s FTL engine uses a more efficient means of warping spacetime around it to achieve greater speeds than its predecessors.”

“Now that is ludicrous speed.”

Adams lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, it sure is. Anyways, I think it’s about time we head out to the hangar to see the ship.”

The ride is actually incredibly smooth, apart from the initial jump from Earth to space, in which there was a bit of a jolt from the shift in gravity. However, once Fletcher managed to get into space, the flight became much more smooth.

One thing Fletcher has learned since his childhood is all the old science fiction shows and movies got warp speed wrong. There are no bright lights or sounds, just a slight visual bulging effect when looking out at space from the warping of spacetime. Needless to say, his first experience with true faster-than-light speed was kind of disappointing.

After seven long days of travel, he pulls the ship out of warp speed and lays his eyes on the Mursk station.

“Well that sure looks abandoned.”