A quick idea that popped into my brain in a quiet spell at work... An little snapshot. [hider=My Hider] “Hey Boss….” A dirty looking man I'm yellow zero G suit stripped to wait with a helmet under one arm, bionic and a metal half jaw and teeth walked in, his T shirt am worn Navy PT surplus and a good luck charm about his thick neck walked in, data pad hitting the desk and giving a shake of his head. “Need some advice, just watch, i'll grab a coffee” He stomped slightly over still in zero G boots and left the pad there. The tug 07G was normal, The derelict and dock 5… the normal entertainment codes and chatter then… “Copy, spinning her about dock 5, have buffers live” Came a tone from old Europe and camera panned to see a woman and a flash of white hair in a visual feed as she gave a thumbs up… that was too early, she had to … “15 feet to…12…to….11… 9… caution.” Came the robotic tones of the auto nav as it tried to counter and plan in a safe enters vector. Everything was spinning and the computer locked out at …processing… “Warning. 5 feet…clear. Starboard bow.” Came a louder, harder auto alert. The ship danced and moved without pause, no halt, no stops and no resets. Consistent, smooth motion as it swung the entire derelict like it was a ballet partner under total control. “Warning…3…2… system unable to track. Collision warning.” The entire derelict swung past the docks gate under a foot away and no lt even a scratch in the buffers, system unable to track that close to the walls. “Warning….release override confirmed…” came in again..the vector as the pilot over corrected the …not…the mass was countered at 0.04 degrees off centre as it glided into the buffers at 0.85 allowed speed and impact velocity. The tug was turning away already, a wave visible as the female pilot turned towards the exit without even halting her movement from the last action. “Have fun, Snowy out” Came the voice as the Radio traffic ended and silence returned to the office. “I've…got nothing, scared my dockers, yet .. no regs broke, she brought in without a single paint flek, no over speed.” He said, it was all text book and yet his crew were annoyed but what could he do? The woman was found later, her long white hair tied back resting her helmet on a table painted with “Snowy” in a crude yellow marker, her slightly insulting newbie name she had been given like all newbies had to earn a real call sign. Her eyes glanced and the pilot she saw… looked away, his..her.. she was not even sure. The Navy either considered them amazing.. or rebuilt them.. both. She was not even sure what under that chrome and tech. One of the more veteran pilots named “Clockwork” who creeped her out honestly. humans..were meant to be human right? That thought swirled about her sweet mocha as she waited for new call out, the pilot's lounge was quiet as most where bringing in the new haul, an large ore freighter with a bright blue hull of the astro miners Inc, their logo worn but still visible on the new derelict. The walla had worn out posters, salvaged art, half or more from old ships… even the star liners chairs and tables now long worn, scrapped and thread bare. Half the room..station even was furnished from what they found, no room the same or so she thought. Maybe it was stock once? She sipped her drink and rubbed her shoulder catching the cool .metal ceramic of her spine just visible beneath the suit, that hung half open and showed a pale blue snug fit comfortable exercise top with a pair of old Earth Aviators dangling by one arm from her neckline. Next job, day 12 of her contracted time. Her diary has been rather sparse the last 2 weeks, old pen and ink… some things needed a human, a thing no computer had to match. [/hider]