Have some breakfast.

From Create Your Own Story

As you enter the mess hall, you see the other pilots already sitting at a table. Lanky, dark-haired Flak waves at you, a rakish grin on his face. A pair of flight goggles dangle loosely around his neck; Flak has a strange fascination with old Earth relics, especially anything to do with aviation. Beside him sits Slice, a blonde woman with her flightsuit unzipped enough to show cleavage. As you walk up, she holds up a spoonful of gray, lumpy porridge.

"Whitman says it's edible," she remarks with an arched eyebrow. "I'm not convinced." <p> You take a seat across the table. "Me neither. I might just give breakfast a skip." <p> Slice laughs. "Good call." She spoons the porridge into her mouth and makes a face. <p> "So what's our schedule look like?" Flak asks, fiddling with his goggles. <p> "I was gonna get some holo time and watch the latest Die Hard," Slice says. "But I bet the captain's got other uses for us." <p> "Yeah," you say with a frown. "We're fighter pilots. We shouldn't be re-wiring consoles or cleaning the O2 filters. That's not our job." <p> "Our job," Flak says dryly, rolling his eyes. "Is what ever the cap'n says it is. Isn't that right?" <p> Slice shakes her head. "Would be nice for some action, you know?" <p> As if her words were prophetic, a sudden alarm resounds through the mess hall. Your head comes up; Flak and Slice are exchanging a startled glance, then you all swiveling towards the speaker as it crackles to life. <p> "We have hostiles inbound, black markings. Crew to battle stations! Crew to battle stations!" <p> You're already running. Only pirates fly black markings, and that means a fight. <p> To the flight deck!