At 11:32am on 1304.32, a ship appears out of nowhere in an unoccupied sector of space, several days' journey by FTL from the nearest planet. the ship is old, battered. The words GSS Cassandra are just about visible on the on the side, written in chipped and fading paint.

Within the small living space, a man and a woman stand, disorientated, bathed in rapidly fading blue light. Next to them, an old woman stands in a red scarf, one hand nervously resting on an old machine that clicks and hums.

'So?' she asks. 'You were there for a long time, how did it… go?'

The man and woman share a glance.

'I think they got it this time,' Mirza says, already reaching for the tablet that sits just outside of the machine's scope to check for recent news.

'Quite,' Azalea agrees.