Derelict Data

[AutoFox]

The room resembled nothing so much as an electronic nest, cascades of wires, monitors, keyboards and blinking equipment spilling down the walls to collect in great drifts around a chair in the center. In the background, a laboring old cooling system kept the room at a more or less comfortable temperature, some of the hanging cables closer to the fan blowing slightly in the weak air current.
One singular coiled cable came down from a mass of blinking machinery in the ceiling. The activity indicator at its base flickered almost so quickly as to be a steady glow...
The end of the cable was plugged into a socket behind the left ear of the single being who occupied the room.
Frex Calix sat in the midst of his digital womb, bathed in the bluish glow from screens and holograms, and in the constant flow of information which flooded into his cerebral cortex through the implant in his brain. He reached out into the HoloNet with all of his senses, basking in the power and the enormity of it.
It was a little like how being sensitive to the Force might be, Frex mused; the young rodent had no connection to that mystical binding energy as far as he knew, but by all accounts it was something one could immerse themselves in, and manipulate, much as he could do with digital information.
Frex enjoyed the sensation of "diving" into the HoloNet; where most other beings might find such an inflow of raw information overwhelming, Frex found it almost... relaxing. He could allow himself to be swept along by the data, or he could shape it, order it in ways which made sense to him, as easily as one might order nick-nacks on their desk, or indeed, sculpt a lump of clay into a work of art.
It had been a sensation he had enjoyed even before he had gotten his implants; all one really needed was a datapad and the right mindset.
Suddenly, though, he felt an intrusion.
<Excuse me, Master, but the ship's sensors have detected something unusual.>
Disturbed from his reverie, Frex closed his eyes. Instantly, the screens around him changed from the HoloNet to various readouts from the White Noise's considerable sensor suite.
What seems to be the trouble? the rodent answered, speaking through his implant.
On the largest of the monitors, a sensor readout was brought fourth. Aria, the ship's computer, continued her report.
<Long range passive scanners have detected a faint distress signal coming from somewhere ahead. It appears to be an automated repeating transmission, coming from a disabled vessel.>
Frex frowned.
Is it urgent?
The screen displayed the waveform of the message.
<Need I remind you, Master, that interstellar law dictates we respond to any distress call we intercept. I know we're not exactly on the right side of that law most of the time, but I also know you're not heartless.>
Frex sighed heavily, running a hand through the fur of his forehead.
Aria knew him far too well.
Even as a smuggler and a slicer, Frex had a weakness for those in distress. Even so, he was wary enough to consider the other things a deep-space distress call could be. Pirates often used them to reel in unwary marks, and of course, there was a chance that the proper authorities might show up while he was in the midst of rendering aid.
Still...
Play the message.
There was a click as the recording started.
"Attention, any vessel, this is the bulk freighter Snowcrash. Our drive system has been damaged by an asteroid collision, and we are unable to repair it. Our hyperwave communications rectenna has also been damaged. We have 20 crew aboard, and require immediate assistance."
<The message repeats.>
Frex thought for a moment, then shrugged.
I suppose I should go tell our passengers that we'll be making an unexpected stop... I'll be back in a bit.
<I shall keep your HoloNet tabs waiting, Master.>
Frex stood, stretching his wiry limbs as he rose from the chair, popping his joints a little. Reluctantly, he reached up to pluck the scomp link plug from his head, feeling an immediate absence as he was disconnected from the network.
That always brought him down a little.

Picking his way over the cables snaking over the floor, Frex pressed the door control, squinting a little in the somewhat brighter light of the corridor glowpanels.
Frex seldom took on passengers; save for the presence of Aria and the ship's two maintenance droids, he preferred to fly solo. Of course, when he needed the cash, he was not above berthing one or two people in the unused crew quarters of his vessel.
Shortly before departing the last star-port he had visited, Frex had taken on two such beings. They were unobtrusive enough, and the nominal fare they had paid him was already earmarked to buy the young slicer several pieces of brand new computer hardware he had been eying.
On the way through the ship, Frex stopped by the autochef for a mug of what passed for spiced caf. To his liking, Frex had modified the machine's programming to increase the caffeine content, and as a result he was feeling much more alert and in better spirits by the time he reached the ship's small common area to deliver the news.
"Hey, folks, I thought I'd come tell you in person that we'll be making a slight detour... it shouldn't take us long, with any luck."
The young rodent tried to remain optimistic as he spoke; he doubted his passengers would enjoy the news, but he knew he couldn't ignore the SOS, for his own sake. His plan was merely to let the damaged ship patch through his own long-range communications gear and call for some more substantial help, a process which probably would not take very long.
I just hope they don't make a liar out of me. Frex thought to himself.