3 years ago...
"...Cooke, are you sure you're ready for this?"
The scraggly pilot, fresh into his 20s, brushed his hair back, raising an eyebrow at his mother, while his father poured over the test flight's route details in triplicate. "C'mon Cookie, don't smother 'em! He's got this. He's got Baker blood in his veins! We're practically bred for flying!"
Cooke looks back at his dad. "Dad, wasn't grand-dad's name Bread?"
"Yeah, why?"
Cooke chuckles, and steps over to his dad, passing his mother with a brush on the shoulder to reassure her. "Trust me ma, I'm ready. I was up all night working on streamlining the route, even planned out a few shortcuts..." He runs his hand from the start point, straight through red zone on the map, causing his father to raise an eyebrow.
"Through the uncharted zone? Pretty risky...now I'm with your mother. Did you scout this out or something?" His father chomps down on a cigar, giving it a puff.
"Yeah, Stew gave me a flight out there the other day, turns out it's clear space. Couldn't pick anything up on our tests at all. Geothermal for meteors, electromagnetic for anything not a rock, all the others..." Biscuit wasn't sure, but, he remembered taking risks like that when he started out, too. He's an older man now, obviously, but not exactly wiser, and he knows that.
"Go for it." Cookie chimes up, reviewing the data Cooke collected, causing Biscuit to look over at her now. "Really? You're into this?"
"All his scans are clean, Biz, I think our boy may have cut down our route time. We might be able to turn things in the Accord's favor, get a fighting chance out there." Cookie pats her son on the head, eliciting an annoyed groan.
"Alright, alright, can we get going now? The window's coming up, and I gotta do pre-flight." Cooke shrugs them both off, walking backwards as he talks to them, bumping into the doorframe on his way out. His parents soon follow. "Alright, let's get it going!"
The plan was simple. Pick up a supply cache, wait for Cooke at the other end, then they all deliver the full shipment. The window is limited, though. Linger too long, and they risk being picked up on AC systems, which means, for Cooke, one of Stew's roleplay nights ad nauseum, and much as those are fun, he'd rather not live out a fantasy until the heat death of the universe. Gotta make them proud.
About two minutes away from deadline, Biscuit and Cookie are getting anxious.
"Cooks, I don't like this. I wasn't sure he shoulda...I mean..."
"Biz, I get it, don't worry he's gonna call in soon..."
Finally, there's a glint, a ping on the radar, both of them snap to attention, Biz looking out the window, Cookie checking the systems...
"See? Told...you." Biscuit's heart drops into his feet as the wreckage of "Lucky Boy" floats closer. It looks like something smacked into it, hard. Meteors.
Cookie looks up at the wreck, and stares, dumbfounded. She tries to shove her husband from the cockpit, panicking, but Biscuit's not budging. The window is closing, they have to cancel the job.
Despite Cookie's panicked yells, the ship jumps, leaving nothing but an empty wreck and 3 full crates.
