Paul’s continuing assault on the English language. WARNING GRAMMAR NAZIS READ AT OWN RISK.

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Paul Kavinsky sat in his worn seat surveying the stars that stretched out before him. Thoughts of the past haunt him as he makes his way to Kohl terminal preparing for his next venture. A squawk came through his head phones. Dispatch Nathan was reading out coordinates to a stranded cmdr near Niaba. “I am six jumps away from client Nathan can I go”? “Kavinsky go get him” Nathans voice came through as garbled static. Paul began to plot a course to client but his nav computer kept resetting “piece of junk” Kavinsky muttered as he tried to get the nav comp to work. Nathans voice again came up on his headphones “Paul Aesculon Phaia is responding to the call as well”. “Great now I am falling behind” Paul thought as he in vain tried to get his nav comp to work. He finally managed to get the computer to function. He plotted a route and began to make way. Paul was jumping and scooping rapidly pushing Sena to her limits as he tried to catch up to Aesculon and his Anaconda. He finally made it to system shortly after Aesculon. Client finally managed to get on radio and an English accent came through his headphones “hello”. “I want you to turn on your beacon please” Paul said as he directed Sena in the direction client was likely at. His scope lit up with the familiar blue glow that marked beacons on his sensors. “Aesculon lets go get him he’s in front past the star” Aesculon pinged in acknowledgement as Paul accelerated. Paul looked at his nav comp again another malfunction the distance between him and the beacon was not there it just simply did not register. Paul let out a stream of curses “How far are you from the sun”? “I am 190k LS away from the sun” the client said in his English accent. Paul began to target the systems sun to keep track of distance and again the nav computer refused to work for him. He hit the instrument console knocking over an air freshener venting his wrath upon the universe. “Aesculon keep track of our distance from the sun my nav comp is kaput” Paul radioed to his fellow rat. Paul was beginning to make some headway when a panicked voice came over the radio “there is a countdown timer on my instrument console”. “I want you to get into your emergency stasis canister now or you’re dead” he bellowed. “Yes getting in now” as static began to get worse. Paul was now beginning to doubt his chances in rescuing the pilot. Client had now become a case red only running on emergency batteries that kept his cryo chamber working and to make things worse Sena’s Nav comp was still not working. The update from universal cartographics had been causing nothing but problems for him and his fellow Fuel Rats. He glanced at his instruments grabbed the battered gold pocket watch wrapped around his throttle and began to keep track of time. It was a memento from his rather shady past. It would take him at least a half hour to reach client Paul figured. He kept his ship on the best guess course it was following because without power there was no beacon. Paul was left flying blind thinking chances of saving client was likely remote even with nine minutes on the clock. Paul looked at his sensors seeing the familiar outline of an anaconda just right behind him. Paul and Aesculon moved into position flying for at least 15 minutes not knowing if they were on course or not. Paul sent the signal to the client’s ship alerting its pilot that they were nearby and ready to have beacon lit again. The stranded Cmdr slowly got out of cryo and restarted the beacon. They had nine minutes to save cmdr. They were off by a few thousand LS. Paul flipped Sena around and began to curse his nav comp for its failure to function. Finally dropping out of super cruise he spotted a purple vulture. Paul targeted the ship and shot limpets beating Aesculon to the save. It would later turn out that the cmdr had 5 million in exploration data and had gotten distracted and then lost in space.

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