In the time that it took for the next rotation, Ahnciel almost jumped, seeing tiny lights spring from the cylindrical craft. In a small panic, he pressed his synthetic hand to the controls, the porcelain-esque shell clicking dully against the busted inactive controls. Cold feet ruled his composure as he found himself not ready to actually deal with the mission. 
[i]'Explain myself...meet the leader...understanding'[/i] he whispered to himself, trying to push power from his arm into the interface before realizing how stupid he was. 

His stupidity found in the revelation regarding his situation was shown as the interceptors made the approach to retrieve the craft. A military-grade preservation chamber fitted with a solar battery, welded into the frame of an old fighter where the cockpit would otherwise go. A scan wouldn't even be necessary as the eye would note the lack of thrusters or weapons on the craft that required a bit of piloting from the security officials to pivot in the approach to safely fix the clamp.
The craft showed overt signs of scavenging, the intent of its design meant to link with the typical ship slingshot system; the process capable of launching crafts faster than typical charges found in escape pods. While the make of the craft was understandable, the reason behind its creation couldn't be any more unclear.
Why would someone make an escape pod for the sake of being 'shot' at such velocity that pilots are trained to resist the force?

"Hello? I don't..." Ahnciel began, curious if he should be pressing something before remembering the space suit with the comms interface integrated into the helmet. Hastily donning the oversized attire, he reached in to activate communications before closing the visor. There was a tense moment where he considered silence, though imagined humans wouldn't respond too kindly to a lack of explanation for whatever crime it was he was committing by having no control over his craft.

"H-hello? Zeis iz 'callsign' Lucerne Eight: Ahnciel zero seven four [color=gray](Not that it would mean anything)[/color]. I apologize for zeh intrusion into...eh, territory. My craft does not...have...control? Not for about two weeks" the light voice of Ahnciel chirped into open comms as a response, having little understanding for the settings on the vessel he was responsible for. "I run on starlight, life support ehn comms...szank you for findink me" he continued, his voice trailing off as he realized what he was talking to. Though he did nothing wrong, Ahnciel was alone in an open ocean while sharks circled him. A simple mechanic, he was lost how to convey the tightening in his chest at the idea of seeing a human up close. Excitement danced with fear in a sickening ballet that the lack of gravity in his pod did little to help.

Being 'shot' as the makeup of the craft would suggest hinted that there was much left unsaid, however, the tone of the individual who occupied the derelict craft implied that they were genuinely thankful for being picked up. [i]Someone[/i] was responsible for the mangled ship being there, and knew where Vegas Station was. Combined with the work and janky innovation done to make the long-range escape pod, the tickle of worry couldn't help but be presented by the situation. 
Not the finest planning by 'No Sky', though commander Aark was never one for long-term plans...evidenced by leaving Ahnciel floating for two weeks when he said he'd come and get the lupine after one; the solar-sticker'd apoxy chip being a tracking beacon. Trouble must have arisen, since punctuality was a priority with the commander whom Ahnciel was quickly coming to despise.