--Stardate 3277.02.19--

"It'll be ok. It'll be ok... Just stay with me."

The hull shakes as the small vessel lurches out of hyperspace. Red lights pulse through the darkness of the cabin. The hull creaks and alarms sound as the power generator strains, and the thrusters are pushed past their limits.

"Nearly there... Just a little more... You can make it."

The metallic taste of the air makes it hard to breathe. Soft wimpers between heavy, labored breaths drift towards the pilot's chair. He pushes harder on the throttle even though it can go no further. The tiny dot on the horizon begins to grow as he sits on the edge of his seat.

"Come on, come on..."

An alert pops up on the HUD. "REDUCE SPEED" chimes the onboard AI.

"Not yet."

"REDUCE SPEED"

"Just a little closer..."

"REDUCE SPEED"

"DAMMIT! I'm going to overshoot!"

He yanks back hard on the throttle with his entire body. The ship rattles at the sudden change of speed. No sounds emanate from the back of the ship. With half a glance he can barely make out through the darkness a very still form. He pulse quickens, and his hands start to shake.

"Oh Maker please..."

"Safe Disengage Ready"

He quickly reaches across the console and flips a switch. The tiny station growing in front of the ship quickly pops to fill the entire view from the small craft.

"Finally.
*Starport, this is Sierra Whiskey Dash Eight One Zero Five Hundred Charlie, designation FT-Enceladus, requesting emergency docking, please respond.*"

"*Eight One Zero, this is Stephenson Starport. What is your vector?*"

"FUCK. I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!
*Vector is Phi Three Four point Nine Six, Lambda Two Four Two point Zero Nine, Rho Six Three Seven Eight point Eight Nine. Again we are EMERGENCY traffic. Respond.*"

"*That's a negative copy Eight One Zero, please repeat vector.*"

"*THIS IS A FUCKING EMERGENCY! MY WIFE NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION! I AM COMING IN TO LAND! YOU CAN FREE ME A PAD OR I WILL CRASH WHEREVER I HAVE TO AND YOU CAN ARREST ME AFTER!*"

Moments pass like millenia. Teeth clench painfully. Sweat drips to the console.

"*... ... ... Good copy, Eight One Zero. Please proceed to docking pad One Six. Emergency Medical Transport will meet you upon arrival. Stephenson Starport clear.*"

"Thank my fucking stars!"

"Automatic Docking Engaged"

He jumps up from the pilot's chair and runs to the back of the ship. He stops short and his eyes lower upon the pool of crimson at his feet. He looks over to the still form lying in the darkness. Tear fill up his eyes, blinding him, and stream down his cheeks. A noise from his right calls his attention. He crosses to the source, bends low, and picks up a squirming bundle of cloth.

"There, there little one. It will all be ok. It will all be just fine... my little Zarturus."