Open space yawns beyond the gaping bay doors, black and star-bright. The refugee ship shudders free of the docking frame, but the emergency lights keep pulsing red across the primary console.
The Navigator
They are still on us. Heat signature is bleeding loud across the hull, and they are matching our drift.
The console spits up a pursuit arc. The simplest answer is to cool the ship fast, dump the thermal trail, and cut the line of sight before the trackers tighten again.
Ség U'llr
The vent grid should take the load if I reroute the exhaust through the aft fins.
Ség U'llr slides four clawed hands across the controls, quick and precise. The ship answers with a deeper tremor as the venting cycle shifts, and the heat bloom on the display begins to smear.
The Navigator
That is working. Hold it there, just a little longer. If they lose lock now, we live.
Outside, the first pursuing contact drops out of the targeting overlay. The route ahead is still dangerous, but the ship is no longer a glowing beacon in the dark.
✓ Quest Accepted
Mask the ship’s thermal signature
“Can the Navigator detect any other pursuers in the sector?”
NO (Even, rolled 65)
The Navigator scans the long range sensor arrays, his fingers dancing across the glass, but the sector remains empty of further hostile signatures. The silence of the void beyond the bay doors confirms that no other pursuers are tracking their current trajectory.
“I fine-tune the exhaust baffles”
SUCCESS (Superb Engineering, rolled +0)
Ség U'llr opens the exhaust baffles a fraction, then trims them back with a steady hand. The thermal wash narrows from a broad bloom into a tight, uneven stream that the aft vents can swallow.
On the sensor feed, the ship's heat bloom settles into the false profile he wants, dim enough to blur into the background drift. The hostile track stays broken.
The Navigator
That is cleaner. Much cleaner.
The Navigator
He keeps one hand braced on the console, watching for any spike, but the readout holds.
The bay lights flicker across the exposed struts, their metal ribs taking the load without a shudder. Beyond the glass, the refugee ship slides deeper into dark.
The Navigator
Thermal trace is dropping off their board. We have them fooled.
The console settles into a steady green pattern, and the only remaining alarm is a soft maintenance chirp from the aft systems.
Quest Complete
Mask the ship’s thermal signature