Our protagonist female canine prepares for the journey ahead.
"Oh, good day Miss Memsley. How can I help you today?"
"I'd like to borrow the TTD sir."
"Right on this way then." he stood up, brushing his hair as he opened the small sliding barrier for her. It was not much else than a formality, as one could easily crawl under it or step over it, but it was just another one of the many things they inherited from their ancestors. The elderly canine pointed at an empty table and chair, reaching out his paw in the air as a silver-blue colored, crowning shaped item dropped right in his reach by a drone above their heads, flying further into the archives.
"This one is in perfect condition, I'm giving you a 25% off this time. You frequent our sanctum often, this is the least I can do."
Avery looked up at the elder, placing the crowning onto her head with a courteous smile. "I'm honored elder Mylo." nodded at him, indicating she is all fit.
He nodded back as well, walking back to his table. A new button appeared on Avery's assistant, saying: "Link with Thought Transfer Device". She poked at the screen, closing her eyes. Just in an instant, she could write a letter of 300 words without touching her keyboard. She opened her eyes again, staring into the glowing of the assistant as it tried to decode the incoming code, forming words of her thoughts. "I have all day, Mr. Advanced Electronics Inc..." she mumbled to herself.
Wars were luckily not that easy to develop, even if it was such a sudden move. By intergalactic role, there had to be a week's preparation time for both sides to mobilize their army, notify the civilians about the danger, wandering back to their own species and issuing an embargo for trading as the whole event rolled out. No further hostile actions could be taken during that one week...
The female canine stretched in the hub, sitting in her casual drinking place to gulp a long, cold drink as she kept an ear out for any gossips. Staring at the holographic TV, she could already tell that everywhere the news of war will be crying out loud, as expected. Everyone around the pub was excited, or terrified by the news, some of them leaving as soon as they heard what's going on. The hub wasn't looking any better either: there was an announcement that anyone trying to leave should mark their preferred time of departure, making it "smoother for everyone" to leave in time. Chuckling, she checked her assistant: there was a 2+ hour of waiting queue until she could leave for picking up Kyle. She finished her drink, pressed her assistant on the turnstile, paying her food and drink, letting her out the pub.
Most of the traders from the outer region were standing in line, nervously pushing each other to get closer to the gates, trying to reach their ships. The female canine didn't want to leave just yet. She walked up to Dex, the beeb-rat she had left behind. It seemed to buzz in a higher pitched tone, keeping his lips open for about half a minute as she waited her turn patiently.
"I know hun, and I'm sorry about it...hey, I didn't know this is gonna happen, alright? But if you're still open for business, I'm willing to trade that for 10 units of wood and 5 units of uranium."
The bee-like creature tilted it's head, hitting the table with the cube shaped thing on it, which seemed to glow less than before.
"How about I add a drink to it too. That's all I can make it sweetheart."
This time, it touched it's head, with a quick flash of a yellow light it deducted the money from her account. She nodded, hitting the table with her arm as well.
"You're the best!" she smiled wide, holding the cube in front of herself and crushing it between her fingers as it disappears with a bright blue spark.
The following two hours involved Avery playing a horrible victim of the war, trying to gather some more information, where all the people are escaping to. She already ordered her haulage to be transferred to Dex's hangar, as well as arranging a meeting with the ship dealer to sell her ship as well. Every tiny portion of the ship had to be in perfect shape to be categorized being in "spotless" condition, making the the most money for the trade. Eventually, she shook paws with the muscular feline, making her quite the fortune. At the same moment, she got her notification of Kyle transferring money for her items sold at Khala'an V. She giggled, asking the harbor master to show her the available ships this time. He chuckled back in a deep voice, wagging and curling his tail playfully as he guided her around the smelly, dirty ship hangars.
Her possible picks were: the Dart, which was a fast, maneuverable cruiser, but it had even smaller cargo hold than the Rattlesnake. Her other alternatives the LG-FIS, a Ladar system guided, federations issue starship with built-in quantum communications for instant connections anywhere in the universe, or the Slowpoke, which is generally a trading freighter, with a lot of consumption and slow speed overall, but can fit a lot of defenses in exchange for cargo hold if needed.
After a bit of a hesitation, she picked the LG-FIS for better communication and balanced firepower. The feline nodded, reaching for a scanning device. She placed her paw onto it, as it flashed, making sure it's really her that's about to spend more than 1'000'000 credits in a roll.
"You're made a great deal today, my lady! The insurance and licensing papers are all in the captain's hold. Please give us just about half an hour to refuel the baby and you'll be ready to go. I already have a reserved bay for you as that time. Let's hope you'll never have to use their assault system..." he added, fully knowing why she would be after a new ship.
"Don't worry sir, I will be careful."
She shook paws once more and returned to the hub.
Window shopping in a huge station like the Night Howl does take a while; those who really wanted to leave, already did so. At least it felt more like being on the surface, as the canines didn't go anywhere. It is their home station, if they go to war, this is the place they will fight at. Avery checked the time: the preparation of her new ship, "O-Boat" as she named it, was waiting or her on landing bay 5. With nothing else to do, she decided that it was time for her to depart. She said goodbye to Dex and the others she knew at the port, heading for departure.
Passing the cold corridors and depressurization chamber, she took her space suit in paw and quickly put it on. It looked more like a swimsuit with a helmet, but it did protect her from the extreme cold and lack of breathable air on the launchpad. The O-Boat was just as she saw at the dealer's, but it seemed to receive a new paintwork: metallic shine, with a single Mk. 54 engine, built in quantum comms and gimballed repeating lasers at the front. The cockpit was angled, just as on all the federation issued starships, having a pattern for the muzzle's shape of their species.
A press of a button on the side, a small keypad's cover opened as she punched in her new code, twice. She took a few steps back as the stairs to the side of the ship rolled open. Many incidents happened to those who didn't know the working mechanics of these, one time making a fun of the feline Emperor himself as he wanted to board the diplomatic ship he was gifted. Every corner of the galaxy was laughing at their stupid design for it, but as always...this was also a tradition.
The O-Boat was surprisingly clean inside, the captain and co-pilot's seats were shining new and the interior repainted and reinforced. The female nodded , praising herself for her good sixth sense, pressing the button next to the entrance to roll the chairs back in, sealing the ship from the cold vacuum of space. She sat down in the captain's seat, familiarizing herself with the manual hidden under it. Just after a few minutes, she put the manual back under the seat, along with the official papers and licenses as well. Luckily, almost everything was automated and the system did the rest of the dirty job for her. With a single press of a button, oxygen generators, power and communication systems and navigations came online, the machine came to life. She could finally get rid of the spacesuit, hanging it nicely in the spacious cargo hold.
Navigation controls were almost the same as on every federation issued piece, all she had to do is punch in her destination to the computer, letting the autopilot to it's thing. After aligning for Khala'an V, she pressed FTL mode, standing up in her seat as she stretched, tilting to the left and right, soon realizing her mistake: she forgot to go to the toilet after the beer.