"This is sector F420, everything seems to be in order."
"This is sector U169, same old same old."
"This is sector K214, nothing un… at least we're getting paid."
"I know right, did you know it was Matt's son's birthday last--"
"Do not use the comm lines for personal matters!"
A short, but frustrated sigh echoed through a small, tight room as a woman rested her head on the back of her narrow seat. There were all sorts of small lights surrounding her, similar to that of a car; the difference is that there wasn't enough space for anyone else but her, the driver… or perhaps it was better to call her a pilot, as another difference was that the view from the windows was filled with nothing but darkness.
There were, however, the occasional letters on the window that seemed to be labeling every single debris or rock it happens upon.
"I know you guys are tired, but we still have a few more hours until rotation."
"Aye, aye, Cap."
