M
Matthias
Guest
Original poster
"All clear, all clear. Federation cruisers out of red-zone. Initiating system start-up." AI's voice echoed over the loudspeakers of the ship, and, as it did, Nadezhda was quite certain she heard the entire crew give a sigh of relief. This was the third close encounter they had with a federation cruiser this month, which was ridiculous. They were in the outer circle of planets, on the very edge of federation territory. What were all of these cruisers doing out here? Nadezhda smelled something fishy, and the rest of the crew did too. The sooner they were out of this area, the better.
She walked down to the cargo bay, soles of her boots thudding against the floor. "Lance, status on the meeting," she barked at the man holding a communicator by the tall stack of crates. Usually she wasn't as harsh with the crew, but the Federation had her on edge, as did this meeting. Nadezhda made a point of avoiding the outer planets. No good came of hanging around them. The only people who lived there were pioneers and criminals, and neither of them were particularly safe to deal with.
Of course, the fact that she, as a smuggler, was a criminal herself, was something Nadezhda chose to quietly overlook.
"Meeting's all planned, cap'n," Lance drawled. "All we need now is for the ship to land. I presume you're working on that?" Lance knew her temper well enough to not be intimidated. Nadezhda was relieved. Scared crew members was the last thing she needed right now. All they did was mess things up.
"Tell the Trader we'll be at the meeting spot in ten minutes, and that he better have the goods. I'm not in the mood to waste time. And while you're at it, tell Irene to find us some passengers when we land. With all these Feds out here, I'd rather take a couple of honest jobs."
Nadezhda walked back up the metal stairs to the bridge, running a hand through her short black hair. Her hair used to be longer, until she realised what an absolute inconvenience it was, and shaved her head. It was beginning to grow back now, and she liked the inch long length it was at. It would probably stay that way.
Sitting down in the pilot's seat of the aircraft, Nadezhda turned off autopilot, switching to manual controls. After that one near-wreck she had a couple months ago, Nadezhda didn't trust autopilot to land anymore - not that she was much better. She had never actually received pilot's training; all she knew was self-taught, with a good amount of hope that she wouldn't fuck up too badly put into the equation. She used to have an 'official' pilot for her ship. Too bad he turned out to be a Fed rat. He was quickly introduced to the vacuum in space after she realised this.
Nadezhda didn't fuck around with the Feds. If they decided to mess around with her ship, they received quick and brutal punishment for doing so.
The surface of the desert planet gradually approached. If the planet had a name, she didn't know it, and it didn't matter. Quick in and out for business. She would be glad to leave. Nadezhda pulled the speaker over to her. "Prepare for landing. Touchdown in t-minus 120."
She walked down to the cargo bay, soles of her boots thudding against the floor. "Lance, status on the meeting," she barked at the man holding a communicator by the tall stack of crates. Usually she wasn't as harsh with the crew, but the Federation had her on edge, as did this meeting. Nadezhda made a point of avoiding the outer planets. No good came of hanging around them. The only people who lived there were pioneers and criminals, and neither of them were particularly safe to deal with.
Of course, the fact that she, as a smuggler, was a criminal herself, was something Nadezhda chose to quietly overlook.
"Meeting's all planned, cap'n," Lance drawled. "All we need now is for the ship to land. I presume you're working on that?" Lance knew her temper well enough to not be intimidated. Nadezhda was relieved. Scared crew members was the last thing she needed right now. All they did was mess things up.
"Tell the Trader we'll be at the meeting spot in ten minutes, and that he better have the goods. I'm not in the mood to waste time. And while you're at it, tell Irene to find us some passengers when we land. With all these Feds out here, I'd rather take a couple of honest jobs."
Nadezhda walked back up the metal stairs to the bridge, running a hand through her short black hair. Her hair used to be longer, until she realised what an absolute inconvenience it was, and shaved her head. It was beginning to grow back now, and she liked the inch long length it was at. It would probably stay that way.
Sitting down in the pilot's seat of the aircraft, Nadezhda turned off autopilot, switching to manual controls. After that one near-wreck she had a couple months ago, Nadezhda didn't trust autopilot to land anymore - not that she was much better. She had never actually received pilot's training; all she knew was self-taught, with a good amount of hope that she wouldn't fuck up too badly put into the equation. She used to have an 'official' pilot for her ship. Too bad he turned out to be a Fed rat. He was quickly introduced to the vacuum in space after she realised this.
Nadezhda didn't fuck around with the Feds. If they decided to mess around with her ship, they received quick and brutal punishment for doing so.
The surface of the desert planet gradually approached. If the planet had a name, she didn't know it, and it didn't matter. Quick in and out for business. She would be glad to leave. Nadezhda pulled the speaker over to her. "Prepare for landing. Touchdown in t-minus 120."