" The Plauge"... Who names a ship after an event which brings death and destruction. Martha Wey did. The Plauge was her ship. She'd gone to the shipyards directly to be part of the process of building it. The gnomes had given her a weird look. A few of the other captains had done the same thing... yet none had been as involved in things as Martha. Every day she'd gone as the birds we're constructed on the line. One ship in particular had been plauged by problems and Martha decided as a single mother... plauged by a rather sad and crying daughter... that only a plauged ship could she call her own. The gnomes looked at her funny... but having an extra hand on a ship that seemed cursed was helpfull. The gnomes made sure that particular RavenFog would be hers. Because of it's history it was never installed with a full AI.... instead there was a slot... with 1/4 the connections other ships had.

Martha ran her hand across the hull. Her daughter Holla was sleeping behind a console. Her feet still twitched when she slept. The viewscreen on the Plauge was shattered. Mina had painted a happy face on a large peice of shipcloth to cover the damage. A few minutes work and she'd rigged up a projector. Her hands curled into claws over her chairs arm rest. "Mina, I've located a small asteroid station nearby with a contact that ought to be able to help us. Let me know if you're confident you can get us there." Mina flashed a hand signal acknowledgement. Martha swung over her lap console and studied the contacts face and quirks.

Thanks to Holla and the fancy RTD she'd brought with her from some unmentionable future... they'd had enough juice to realm hop the ship out of dark space. It hadn't been the cleanest of hops... but it had done the job of putting them nearer food/ contacts and friendlies. Given the intell... Holla had provided it was likely they we're being followed if not merely watched.

Mina grumbled from the pilot's chair. "Mam the plauge might be able to make it thru that obstacle course if... nevermind... I'm tracking another ship and noting it's vector. Piece of cake. Put me in a blonde whig and call me Glenda."

Martha smirked. The station was a rather complicated dry dock facility for the storage of reserve grains and expensive cheeses.