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Clearing his throat, he fished out blurry fragments of the common space navigator language from the depths of his memory. “This is Pyraxis North. You’re approaching docking station 70441. Please identify yourself.”

A rustle echoed over the communication line; a strained male voice followed. “This is space cruiser V-20A, departed from planet Eiden. I am currently on the seventh light-year of the travel and⁠—”

The radio crackled.

“—help...”

“You’re breaking up, V-20A. Repeat,” Roy said, pulse roaring in his ears.

Another crackle, like a spark from a dying fire. “Steering—not responding. Left thruster off. Requesting emergency landing.”

Roy swallowed. Maybe he should send the ship to the other side of Pyraxis. The capital’s fancy docks offered so much more… he wasn’t even sure his fuel lines still worked.

“V-20A, you’re approaching a private dock. I—” Roy stuttered. “There’s not much. You might want to steer to Pyraxis Capital, docking station 1A.”

“No—” The signal wavered, noise veiling the pilot’s words.

Roy mindlessly tinkered with his headphone cable, twisting it as if it were to blame for the disruption. “Please repeat.”

“Pyraxis North, I am requesting to land on your dock.”

With a flick of his forefinger, Roy turned on the radar. A tiny dot appeared on the screen, glowing brighter as it approached Pyraxis’ atmosphere. The calculated trajectory led beyond the safety of the harbour, into the open sea.

“V-20A, you need to adjust by zero point sixty-three degrees to reach the dock.”

“I can’t!” the voice barked. “Electronics⁠—”

“Okay.” Roy cut him short, gripping the edge of his table. “Understood. Permission granted.”

“Thank you.” The pilot’s laboured exhale seeped through the speakers. “I have two passengers aboard.”

“Copy that.”

“Can you notify emergency services?”

“Yes. Stay calm. You’ll land in water, but you’ll get help. Got it, V-20A?”

The connection dropped. Roy pulled on his jacket and ran back to the pier, jumping onto his trawler. The engine rumbled; water splashed behind the boat as he pulled on the accelerator, darting into the bay. Dark clouds gathered above, ozone rising in the air. He checked the onboard radar. V-20A would crash into the sea in fifty minutes.

Under the waves, a glimpse of shiny scales eased Roy’s anxiety. Neri must have noticed the boat’s engine sputter to life. He might need her help to navigate the risky waters.

A bright flash appeared in the sky. V-20A entered the atmosphere, her hull burning as she darted down.

The voice on the radio rang in Roy’s ears. He stepped onto the prow and craned his neck, watching the vessel approach.

“Roy!” Neri gasped, surfacing from the indigo water. “What’s the hurry? I could barely keep up with you.”

“Ship incoming,” Roy said, squinting. “Water landing.”

“Oh.” Neri swayed with the tide, her tail flapping. “Controlled?”

“Not at all.” Roy sighed and pulled out his binoculars. Adjusting them to focus on the ship, he shifted on the deck, wooden boards groaning under his boots.

V-20A was falling helplessly, not a single spurt of fire from her thrusters. Another two, three minutes at most, and she would land in the cold waters.

Does that thing not have a parachute?

“She’s coming down,” he said, breath caught. “Neri—get underwater.”