The sound, or lack thereof, of groaning metal in space churned as the Aulin Enterprise starport rotated on its axis, whilst following its orbit around the planet of Nirvana. The cylindrical shaped station was approximately one kilometre wide at the centre, and close to ten kilometres in length, with an interconnected ring filled with grass, trees and such as an oxygen farm connected around the main body of the colossal structure.
Allard Warders, a contractor pilot for the Federation, snoozed away on a bed only just large enough for himself inside of a metal living room, located inside of a pilot's dorm. The room in which Allard slept seemed to have been cast by its constructors with the idea that one wouldn't want to sleep inside of it for more than a day, with there being only enough room for a shower, the bed and a small kitchen.
A sharp knocking on Allard's dormitory door pulled him from his dreamland, back to a cold, low gravity reality. Allard sighed, looking up at the ceiling above him.
"Allard, mate, time to pack up. Farragut's leaving in a couple 'a minutes! Le's get on with it, aye?" a slightly rushed voice from behind the door stated, before its owner hurried off.
Allard rolled himself off the bed, landing in a collection of personal belongings and food wrappers and such all piled together on the floor. He then made one last "Uuuhhhhgg" before finally finding the effort to pull himself upright. The man stood there for a moment, scratching his dark brown hair whilst wondering why the Farragut, the Battle Cruiser that he was flying with, was now leaving.
"Finished fuelling, I guess..." He muttered to himself before searching for his flight suit.
Allard's flight suit was the same as most other pilots' being a black full body protective piece made from a reinforced synthetic fabric, designed to both protect the pilot from personal harm in his ship, as well as a means for survival without oxygen. The suit was fitted with a life support system, though not as effective as the one inboard his ship. It could sustain an oxygen flow for around ten minutes, hopefully enough time to get to a safer location when in a pinch, and Allard was quite grateful he never had to use this emergency system before.
A rush of voices and footsteps outside Allard's door flew past, before leaving him in an unsettling silence.
'Where the hell did I put my suit?', he thought to himself, the pounding of his heart beginning to quicken as a panic rose in his chest.
After a few more moments of fruitless searching, Allard threw his arms in the air, exclaiming "Fuck it!" before picking up his duffle bag and heading off, slamming the door shut behind. Allard made his way through a short network of corridors and flights of stairs, before finding himself in his ship's docking bay. The Eagle fighter in front of Allard made him smile every time he saw it, regardless of the situation. Allard had sunk a large portion of what savings he had to purchase this extremely manoeuvrable, relatively quick fighter on the premise that it would serve him well on his jobs. So far, the ship had only been critically damaged once in a dogfight on a job with the Federation, when they came under attack by a squad of rebel fighters, but apart from that it had proven its worth to Allard.
Allard shook the smile off, sprinting to the ship before boarding it. The insides of the Eagle were quite pristine, or at least they had been when Allard had bought it. Silver polished finishes, walls and linings were now somewhat dulled, due to the lack of Allard's willing to clean things. The cockpit, at least, was relatively clean with the canopies having been cleaned while Allard had been sleeping the previous night.

Allard jumped in to the pilot's seat, noticing his piloting suit sprawled over the ground to the right side of the seat. The man frowned at this, before looking back to the control panels in front of him. First, Allard sent a departure request to the station whilst he fired up the engines, warming them to be ready for a fast pursuit of the Federation cruiser before it warped away.
The station's docking AI began moving Allard and his ship to the surface of the docking bay, before unlocking his landing gear and releasing him. A small timer for Allard to leave the station popped up momentarily for the short time he spent in there, boosting himself through the docking bay exit.
Allard couldn't spot any other smaller class ships around the outside of the Farragut as he approached, indicating that the battle cruiser was going to jump momentarily.
The interesting thing about ships the size of the Farragut, being almost half the length of the space station it had been refuelling at, was that their interstellar warp jump range was incredulous. In what might take another ship twenty jumps, the Farragut was equipped with the kind of power to make that distance in one go.
Time was growing short, and in a quick succession of actions, Allard diverted all power to his engines, before turning off the Eagle's Newtonian flight assists, leaving the ship hurtling towards the battle cruiser. A few hundred meters out, and Allard could see the faint desaturated blue fog forming around the hull of the Farragut, an indication that it was counting down the last few seconds of its warp drive charging.

"Damnit!" Called Allard, smashing his fist down on one of the control panels to his side. He lined himself up with the same trajectory as the Farragut. Allard's hopes were that he would drop into the same warp drive worm hole as the battle cruiser, theoretically sending him and his Eagle with it.
The Farragut lurched forward, engaging its thrusters to move into the wormhole.
Allard acted fast. He engaged his own drive whilst moving with the battleship below him. A robotic voice explained to him;
"WARNING, INSUFFICIENT FUEL"
"Well no shit, Eagles go 5 lightyears, not 5000."
The first stop for the Farragut was in the 'Chraufao' cluster, just under the limit of the battleship's jump length.
Allard mashed in a sequence of codes, before his ship began heating up along with the voice saying "MANUAL OVERRIDE ENGAGED. DRIVE CHARGING".
A painstaking few seconds later, Allard could see the ship below him beginning to be sucked away by a brilliant light as his own ship did the same.
The ship began its countdown procedure before jumping. Every time he experienced a warp drive, he could feel his heart racing, calling out from within his chest.
"FIVE"
A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his head.
"FOUR"
In the worst case scenario, Allard thought to himself, at least he would be able to get a ride home with a Federal trading ship.
"THREE"
Even if there wasn't an easy way back, at least the Federation would be there.
"TWO"
The space before him began to reconstruct itself from glowing white energy, forming a circle ahead of his ship.
"ONE"
Allard's ship pulled itself away from him, stretching unnaturally in the bends of light and time as he was pulled through the wormhole.
"ENGAGE"