Star Citizen: The Kitty Moth Chronicles - Part 2

Part 2

The Freelancer was quiet now, save for the humming of its engines as it skimmed above the forested surface of the planet. Mumble was resting in one of the ship’s bunks. Sure, he was hurt, but it’s not like he’d be upset about a free nap on the job. His head was bandaged with an ice pack placed atop his forehead. He’d be out cold for a while.
Raylea was tending to Squire, who had not moved a muscle since they had barely escaped the Merc hunters. Raylea was gently wrapping one of Squires arm wounds in a tight bandage. Neither of them were saying a word. Raylea looked up at the briefcase that Squire was clasping tight in his arms, conversing mentally with herself as to what it could be within. The obvious answer would be to just take it from him and open it but the words of one of the Mercs present when they took it were still clear in her mind. ‘It’ll mess you up real good, what’s in that box! Thats a free bit of advice, Alien!’ she didn’t remember much else other than the following mad rush to escape that wretched hellhole when things kicked off.
The Sha’vimi girl squinted as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and stood up slowly, looking to Squires eyes which still remained dead focussed on nothing. The look he had upon his face appeared as if all the man’s brainpower was being expended on inner thought or trance, unable to function the rest of his body parts.
She thought better of it than to pester the dreamer. After boxing up the medical supplies and redepositing them in their respective cupboard, Raylea turned back to Squire in hope he may have reacted to her movements. No. Unsurprising.

Raylea proceeded to walk through the ship, passing Mumble in his bunk and adjusting the sheets over him slightly. She entered the cockpit. Flash was sitting still at the controls, the wind from the breach whistled and flapped through the hole quietly. Flash was flying the shuttle slowly now, probably to collect himself, she thought.
“Take a seat...” he said, taking her by slight surprise. “I’d like some company right now.”. Raylea stepped and sat herself lightly in the copilot’s chair, looking about the myriad of switches, buttons and readings the ship’s dashboard had to offer. She turned her attention to her captain, who was even quicker to start a conversation.
“That was too close back there” he began, anxiety in his voice. “It’s a miracle the engines started”. Raylea sat silent for a moment, going over the events in her head. “Yes.” she replied, “You were good to get them started so quickly” she praised.
“It’s nothing. Don’t make a meal out of it, I should only expect to be able to know how to kick this girl into life after owning her so long” he patted the sill of the viewport with a clunk. “You did good yourself, Ray” he smiled to her. “Guess that little tutorial the other day paid off huh?” he returned his eyes frontwards, watching the planet’s lush forests zoom beneath him from the cockpit. The smell of fresh pine filled the cockpit as the air rushed in. Raylea reached behind to her normal seat behind, taking her green trimmed jacket and donning it. Flash’s peripherals were trained upon her the whole time.
“It’s just nice to be out and be ok” she mumbled, snuggling into the coat. “I never liked Mercenaries... and I knew I had good reason for it”. Her words brought a small twitch from Flash.
“It’s just the path they decided to take, at the base of their heart they are still in it to survive. They just go about it in a much different way than us civilians.” Flash said as Raylea peeped out at him from her coat collar.
“Then why must they be so rude?” she argued, “Why can’t they just leave us traders be and have a few manners for once?”
“Don’t ask me that, how should I know?” Flash retorted, “It’s no easier to understand than why kids bully one another in school. Only difference up here is that we have our livelihoods on the line. We can’t just ‘throw a punch’ to shut the Mercs up. Main reason? They have guns...” he pointed to the hole in the cockpit front, “BIG guns.”  
“It’s stupid.” Raylea finished. Flash glanced to his First Officer, a look of sorrow on her face.

“We need to finds some fuel sooner or later.” said the captain. “Any sort of UEE settlements around?” he said tapping the reading on the concave dashboard. The high chances were that their mercenary pursuers were still on their tail, but getting into a UEE controlled area would definitely give them some space to breathe. The local authorities nowadays used fancy gear, much more powerful and advanced than any Merc. He slowed the shuttle into a slow cruise over the treetops, nudging Raylea into action. “Cmon, Nav’. Help me out here.”
Raylea unbundled herself from her jacket huddle without a word and opened up some displays onto the copilot’s hud. Holographic screens with crisp glowing lines and numbers hovered in front of her face, lighting her slight features in a soft blue glow. Her eyes darted about the display as shapes and topographical maps slid to and fro into and out of the main panel. The alien technology built into the Freelancer was normally an off put to most operators. However, the Xi’an tech used was not so different to the kind which the Sha’vim utilised, especially considering many of their devices were descended from Xi’an technology in the first place. This made Ray’ suited perfectly to her role in their ragtag team. Flash knew this, which is why he valued her company as one of his crew. “There’s a small fuelling outpost not far from here, about... sixty miles?” she opened with a quick glance looking for acknowledgment from her captain.
“Is it Youey?” Flash asked back, consulting the map himself. Raylea expanded the image by flicking her thumb and finger apart. The map showed a small compound with what appeared to be some large oil tanks/containers. Definitely a fuelling station. “I’m not sure, it isn’t tagged at all.” Raylea explained, “It’s probably friendly, well, maybe. Fuel sellers aren’t exactly picky who they sell to.”. Whilst this was true, this also meant that they weren’t picky about who they made deals with. “With the Mercs so close by it wouldn’t surprise me if they tipped us off.” Flash speculated. “What’s to say they aren’t already waiting for us?” he turned his eyes to Raylea.
“What choice do we have, we’re low on fuel and need a place to rest up, even if only for a moment.” Raylea pulled a vector line across the display, marking their route to the compound. Flash said nothing, but murmured in agreement.