Journey of the Alacritous Regress Volume 1: The Dead Canary

Prologue: The Worst Possible

"We've detected a small ship coming out of warp near the nebula, Captain."

"Thank you Rivan. Bring us out of warp along side them Tail." My name is Shooting Star, but everyone just calls me Shooting, for both my name and my twitchy trigger finger. I'm the captain of the Alacritous Regress, an old shuttle held together with duct-tape and prayers. The only good thing about the ship was that its equipped with an oversized intercepter warp drive that allows us to fly away from any enemy ships we encounter, and that it doesn't rust.

"Pulling out of warp, Sir." The Engea at the warp control station is my twin sister, Comet Tail. People have never told us that we look the same, and for good reasons. Our mom was a lynx Engea and our father a serval Engea. I got our mom's looks, Tail got our dad's.

"Commence scanning processes Rivan." The large Blait started pressing assorted buttons on her console before letting out a string of curses in her native language.

"That doesn't sound good. What did you find on the ship?"

"Nothing! The scanning system is glitching out again." Rivan scowled and cursed some more. Being a Blait, she is larger then most other intelligent species. She has yellow tan fur that blends in with the savanna environment of her home planet. She has two massive eyes that peered out of the tiniest of slits, and on either side of her head are two pointed ears, both extending about one head width straight out from the side with their interior pointed down. She also has two small tusks, no longer than a centimeter, descending from just above her lips.

"Kyle! Get in here!" Kyle pops his head into the cockpit upon hearing me holler his name. Kyle is our intern, learning both the finer points of how to fix anything with superglue, make coffee, and run a spaceship. Unlike the rest of us that got assigned to this bucket of bolts, Kyle had chosen us off the list of ships offering internship. He probably wishes he had chosen any of the other ships to intern on, exempting the one that blew up.

"What is it Captain? Is the ship a smuggling ship, are we preparing for combat?" at this last one his massive rabbit ears perked up.

"Not nearly that good, the scanners are acting up, we need you to fix them," his ears drooped down upon hearing this. "The faster we get those scanners working the faster we might get into a fight." His ears perked back up.

"Well, the scanners were in perfect condition the last time I checked, so that leaves..." I tune out the black pelted hare as he pulls off a panel and sticks his head into the inner-workings of the control console.

The intercom crackles to life, startled by the sound, Kyle jerks and bumps his head. The voice of Blue, our engineer/gunner, fills the cockpit as they starts speaking. "I noted that the warp drives disengaged and are powering down. Should I prepare for potential combat?"

"Sure, get the systems warmed up and ready to go, but under no conditions are they to be fired! Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Over and out."

Kyle pulls himself out from the console and reattaches the panel. "The whole thing needs to be replaced, but I was able to get it to kinda work. Try it."

Rivan starts tapping on her console again. "It is working, not well, yet it works."

"Good. Kyle, you're dismissed. Go get Quick to send back our report."

"Yes Captain."

"Rivan, report."

"Ship is full of bad people, tourists." The rest of us up on the bridge cringe at this. Of all the things we could be facing, tourists are the worst possible ones. Don't get me wrong, a Shike dreadnought, a Drony hive ship, or, God forbid, an Australian drone carrier, would have been much worse, but in proportion to its size, tourists are definitely the worst.