An Elven Moon
They’d been sailing the Red Corridor for a few days now and the dull light of the giant stars was getting on everyone’s nerves. It was quiet, though, and that was nice sometimes. The brass speaking tube from the Bridge popped open. “Devon, we’re approaching the BRS-29C system.” The magical tube mouthed the works that the Captain spoke. “I need those engines sparking! We don’t know who we’re meeting so I want to be sure we can boost out if we’ve been set up.” Things had been quiet in Quadrant Δ and Finn’s Prairie was expensive. They had needed the job but it had been sparse on detail. Take the cargo to Verdanteye. The Red Corridor was practically a celestial dead zone so only one ship would be there hanging around to receive it.