Dorrin Drake stepped onto the bridge of the Legacy just as Davil Bullian shut down the holocomm.  He arched a brow at the engineer as he took a sip from his mug of caf.  “Who was that, Dav?”
            “Ari,” Davil answered, heading back over to the console he’d taken over a few days ago, when the group headed out on maneuvers on the edge of the Xenea system.  “She’s…I think she’s starting to break, Dorrin.”
            The Legacy’s XO’s brow arched higher.  “Your sister?  Not a chance.  I’m sure she’s all right.  Probably still feeling echoes of a few weeks ago.  Serpindal, Ion, all of that.”
            “Maybe,” Davil said, frowning slightly.
            Something started beeping on one of the sensor boards, followed by proximity alarms a moment later.  The crewman manning the board, maybe two or three years older than either of his superiors, looked sharply toward the two men.  “New contact, broadcasting emergency distress beacon, range four thousand klicks starboard.”
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