“Oi Mack dis sounds like trap!” Rachel shouted over her shoulder as the Engineer left the bridge in a hurry, “Sabaka!” She cursed under her breath at the sound of the man shouting down the main corridor of the ship. Rachel pulled up the source of the distress signal and threw it up on the main display for the bridge. The ship was surprisingly nearby...it would have been suspicious if there weren’t another fifteen or so distress beacons all blinking in comparatively close proximity. Rachel wondered why this one was special though, as a rule for covert missions she disabled the distress alerts system...this signal bypassed that however. She began to plot trajectory adjustments they could make to bring them close enough to the ship to help this Afza Mirev...maybe they could do a flyby and catch her in the airlock. Either way they would need to somehow do it without losing too much of their current velocity. The ships crew made their way up to the bridge, the Captain drifting into the room with surprising grace considering the expression on his face. Before anyone could speak Rachel began, “if we are going to rescue this person we are going to expend a critical amount of reaction mass. Wee have to be dead on target with no room for error, otherwise we a)” she stuck out three fingers, “don’t make it back to The belt and are stranded out here, b) shoot straight through an active war zone after potentially revealing our location to the inner fleets, or c) slam into Io because we have no way to make course corrections.” The bridge was dead silent...Rachel realised she had maybe been too much of a bummer, “but, if we pull it off we save this persons life...and being a doctor She probably has a tonne of drugs on her...” She grinned, trying to not be too negative. Space was dangerous, Rachel was used to delivering just the facts back on the Saxon, here...she realised the Durango crew were not the pirates or mercenaries she was used to, they had feelings.