A soft piano echoed around the confining interior of the spacecraft. Agent Lyons, A.D.D. Interdiction unit’s rawest recruit, was doing her best to keep from falling asleep to the gentle sounds. She enjoyed the music… most music really… but it wasn’t helping to relieve the crushing boredom that came with staking out a possible shipping lane for possible slavers to possibly use… possibly. Truth be told she hadn’t yet seen a single vessel all day, let alone anything suspicious. She’d been stationed at a very remote part of the system, likely as a result of “letting her recover” after her last disastrous mission (which had unfortunately reflected the outcomes she so often found in her tenure at Shokushu).

The craft she’d been given was still an interceptor like she was used to, but held a big enough living area to sleep in, and an empty cargo area should she have to transport ‘goods’. ‘Goods’ in this instance meant any potential slaves that she happened to rescue. At her request, she’d also received a heavier weapon… an energy rifle suited to space combat, capable of doing significant damage to organic material but unlikely to harm inorganics… aka it wouldn’t pierce a hull and leave you floating in space should your shot go off target.

At least the suit she’d been refitted with was surprisingly comfortable… for something that was practically latex with metal armor, at least. The last prototype suit had been… damaged on her last mission, but they’d fitted her with a replacement per her superior’s request. Catherine had stopped complaining about how revealing the suit was of her body when she’d come to realize that they had to make alterations for her larger chest size on an already early build of the armor.

Sighing to herself, yet another completed crossword fell to the floor, joining three others that she hadn’t even picked up yet from the week. A quiet but sudden “blip!” on her ship’s scanner nearly made the young woman jump from her chair, before slamming a hand down on the controls like a contestant on a game show. The communications came to life, allowing her to listen in to whatever ship had wandered into range… seeing if there was anything to listen in on before she’d make her presence known.

All channels were quiet for a moment, host to only intermittent bursts of static from stray radiation waves passing through space. Just when it seemed that the blip would pass through in silence, a voice finally spoke up.

"Come in Papa Den, do you read? This is Sigma Pup." A brief silence followed the hail, before a second communication came through.

"Copy, Sigma Pup, we read you. What's your status?"

The interference of a semi-secure channel distorted the voices - though this far out in space, it could just as easily have come from the speaker, whatever species they could be. Both voices sounded male, but any other information was hard to glean. That was, except for the smugness in "Sigma Pup's" voice as he said, "Den, we have ten units of sweet, delectable candy, heavily sedated and ready for 'processing'."

"Cool it!" snapped back Papa Den. "I want your manifest, not a fucking red flag. Status received, you are clear to proceed to rendezvous gamma-four. Escort will be standing by."

Out her canopy, Cat could see the fast-moving star of the ship passing through. Her sensors indicated it was a cargo vessel, generally crewed by about four - all of whom would likely be armed and ready for a fight. As the instructions came in, the ship began to turn, and its systems powered up for a hyperspace jump.

The young agent listened intently from the start, just glad to have picked up anything to take her mind off of the boredom and isolation. A mumble passed her lips as she repeated their call signs… handles that could have meant anything, though “Sigma Pup’s” claim of confections instantly drew her attention, and even before their conversation ended she was firing up her systems in pursuit, barely having time to strap herself in.

Before she had time to properly address the situation and send a warning to the vessel, she got a warning that it was preparing hyperspace engines. “NO!” She cried to herself, trying to think quickly. She could fire on the engines and possibly disable it… but doing so might harm any captives they were hauling as well. She’d have to jump after it… and hopefully, re-establish contact with the Directorate once she got wherever they were headed.

Her small form bounced into the pilot’s seat and she threw the harness that functioned as a seatbelt across her with one hand, tapping in commands to identify the jump vectors with the other. “Come on, come on… maybe this wasn’t an easy job after all…” She mumbled to herself, managing to coax a hollow laugh from herself as she fumbled both with the restraints and the controls, reading to follow the ship through a jump…

The computer managed to follow the ship through the jump, landing somewhere in distant space the same amount of time after the smugglers that she'd started. Unfortunately for her, slave traders had long learned that they survived longer when they stayed in one place shorter. She arrived back in normal space just in time to see the ship zoom away into another jump, its relay system immediately queuing one jump after another.

Just like that, she was alone in the universe again, with nothing but the dissipating heat ghosts of the tailed ship. Only the void met her gaze, whichever way she turned. She'd seen a glimpse of the smugglers - maybe she could try to piece together their jump vector and reengage pursuit. Or maybe it was time to go back to the scanners, and try to figure out where she was now.

There was a loud *THOOM* as space seemed to compress around her. Even with the inertial dampeners installed in the ship, she was still getting used to jumps and hated them. In her defense, she told herself, humans weren’t meant to survive that sort of thing.

Seconds later her ship emerged behind the cargo vessel… just as it was jumping again. “No no no no…” She chanted, trying to tap away at the keys quick enough to track it again… but to no avail. The ship disappeared silently into the blackness of space and she felt that sinking feeling in her stomach, knowing she’d probably failed anyone being transported on it. “I… I can still…” She spoke softly to herself, trying to lock onto any sort of energy or heat signals from the ship before those too dissipated and she was left with nothing.

The last traces of the smugglers' ship faded before she could do anything useful with them. A skilled agent could probably have been faster - might have been able to do something. But it seemed she wasn't there yet. For a long time, all was still - as still as the vacuum of space should be. No sounds but the hum of her ship's engines, no lights but the pinprick stars, millions of light years away.

Suddenly, her sensors flicked to life, pinging her that they had detected... something. After a moment, the computer calibrated, and showed her the makeup of a signal. It was simple and quiet, but unmistakable - it was an SOS signal, and it was originating from somewhere nearby.

The blonde slammed a fist against the controls… even in her anger, she was careful not to actually smash anything. Her thoughts haunted her as she imagined what would happen to the people in the ship’s cargo… the fate that she only avoided because a better agent had been there to catch the smuggler trying to get off the planet with her.

She lost track of time for a little bit but was ripped from her tormenting thoughts by a new ping on her ship’s sensors. “There… shouldn’t be anyone else out here.” She said softly to herself, looking up and wiping at her reddened eyes. Was it perhaps related to the slave ship? If there was even a chance, she had to investigate.

Information scrolled across her screens, informing her that whatever it had detected was sending out an SOS… maybe a trap? Or a smuggler with a real emergency… either way, she’d have to be on guard. None the less, she fired up her ship’s engines again and rocketed towards the source…

Cat had arrived so far from the signal, it was a wonder she'd found it at all. But her sensors led her true, and soon, she came within visual range of the transmitting craft. What she found was no smuggler or escape pod, however. Floating before her, adrift in space, was a medium-class ADD transport vessel. Ships like this were used by the Directorate to transport personnel between bases or on expeditions.

Although the ship was without power, there were no signs of damage on the hull. However, strange protrusions did dot the exterior, like extra equipment had been welded onto the ship where it didn't usually belong. The ship listed lazily to the side, as its distress beacon pinged on all channels. As she got closer, a second signal began to play on her communicator.

"H-help..." It was a woman's voice - young, from the sound of it. She sounded breathless and afraid. "Help us... please..." The message played on repeat - an automated hail to any ship that would listen.

Catherine frowned as a ship finally came into view. The somewhat familiar outline of a Directorate vessel was outlined by the system’s blue star, and after her surprise wore off, she began to run the ship’s identification through her systems, trying to search for any missing vessels fitting the description. She’d been on more than one rescue mission, so usually, she heard about such things, but nobody had mentioned an entire transport ship missing.

The secondary transmission froze her a little. Her own ship began playing the woman’s voice without any prompting from her, perhaps recognizing a registered Directorate encryption. Trembling, still reeling from losing the first ship, she reached to open a channel, hesitated, and then finally pressed the button, trying to contact the ship.

“Unidentified Directorate vessel, this is Pride Amber, do you copy? Repeat, this is Agent Lyons, do you copy?” She asked hopefully as her ship started to report back on the other vessel…

The silence from the ship stretched on for a dozen heartbeats, each one seeming to take longer than the last. Finally, the quiet voice answered. "...M...Mayday... w-we're..." The speaker trailed off, and after a moment, made a quiet whimper. "Help us, please..." she pleaded again.

Just then, her ship's computer beeped, signaling the results of her query. In fact, there were a number of ships of this model that had gone missing. Most were accompanied by logs of attacks by pirates or slavers. However, this ship's particular identification didn't show up on the results. A second glance at her sensors would show that the ship was now displaying a different ID code than what she'd entered.

Whatever ship this was, there was clearly someone aboard. If they really were ADD agents, there could be as many as two hundred souls aboard.

Catherine hovered tensely over the communication controls, waiting for any sort of response. When finally it came, she started to crack a smile, but it quickly faded. It sounded like a recording, not a response. Her lips parted to speak, and she paused, sighing, long enough for her computer to start feeding back information about the ship… as well as numerous other transports that were missing. Apparently there was a lot she didn’t know yet. She very nearly missed it at first, but a quick glance between the communications and the info banks confirmed that the ship had a mismatched ID code, only adding to the oddity of the vessel. For a moment she wondered if this was a trap of some sort, or if SOMETHING wasn’t amiss.

After another exhale, the blonde set the ship on autopilot for a course with the ship, instructing it to dock on one of the airlocks while she found a helmet and rebreather. She didn’t bother sending out another message to the ship, and she was well out of range of communications with any Directorate bases, at least until she jumped again.

Her foot tapped nervously on the deck as she affixed the helmet over her suit. The powered suit wouldn’t really let her survive in space but if the ship was a vacuum, she’d at least have a couple minutes to get back to her own ship’s atmosphere.

There was a heavy *CLUN-CLUNK* as her small vessel made contact with the transport and the airlocks started to cycle…

The heavy airlock bulkhead of her own ship slid open easily, but the transport ship's door was slower, and not quite as smooth as she would have expected. The sight that greeted her on the other side told her that might become a trend. There was still power inside the ship, and the lights held solid, but they were dim - dimmer than the hall lights of an ADD starship should be allowed to be. The air inside was both present and totally breathable, but also still. The gust from the airlock seal releasing sent particulates wafting away, but it was clear the dust had been immobile for some time. At least, it seemed like dust at first glance, although it seemed to shine a little brighter in the light than dust normally did.

Nothing else was there to greet her. No crew, no attackers, not even sounds. If the ship had encountered some catastrophe, the alarms either hadn't gone off or had been silenced. There was nothing to be seen. She'd docked with the ship's airlock, located near the hangar bay, where the landing craft and ferry shuttles were held.

The agent waited for the airlocks to cycle… at first patient, but quickly growing anxious as the other side seemed to be taking far too long. Eventually she was rewarded with a hiss and the other ship opened to her, revealing a scene she couldn’t help but compare to a horror movie. Not the site of some grisly murder, but still a sense of the uncanny… lights that barely lit the ship, dust polluting the air… nobody had taken care of this ship in quite some time.

Still, she was here, she might as well investigate, she convinced herself, and pushed in, testing if the gravity was still working while she read reports on her helmet’s HUD that the air was breathable, but that she might wish to keep the helmet on anyways. Even if it were, she suspected she didn’t want to be breathing in what she hoped was dust constantly.

The artificial gravity grabbed her and pulled her to the floor as she'd expect. So far, she could add that alongside the lights and the distress beacon on the list of things still working on this ship; a decent list so far. But as she moved inside, the computer terminals mounted on the wall did not light up to greet her. No sort of activity brought them up, as if they'd all been shut off.

Cat found herself now at an intersection. Three paths were before her - left, right, and ahead - but no signs of life were visible down any of them. According to the standard schematics, to the right was the ship's shuttle hangar, while the left hallway led to the bridge. The center path would lead towards crew quarters, and a stairwell that led down to the communications array.