Skesh picked up the comm.
“Dagger Three checking in. I can investigate.” After a moment of crackling silence, he hung up the comm. It didn’t matter if it was Freebooters, debris, or even an engine meltdown, he refused to let them just drift. Most cargo rigs had enough atmo to last a while, even longer if they disabled the artificial gravity and rerouted power to air scrubbers, but starving to death in the great empty nothing was a horrible death.
He slowed his pace and aimed his sensors toward the last transport. All was dark, but he didn’t know how much of that was interference. He groaned. Something felt off about the whole thing.
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