January 19th, 2210, 00:31 - Star Air Force Base
A phone rings in a quiet office. The accent on the other end of the line is thick, but the message is clear.
SCRAMBLE
Klaxons blared around the base as two pilots groggily woke form their slumber dressed in full flight suits, ran to their gear and then hopped in a waiting tug to take them to their aircraft. The Biggle was already warmed up by ground crew as they strapped in, and in thirty seconds they were lining up for takeoff.
The single Z-115 lifted off into the night sky. A beautiful cloudless night, the afterburners roaring into the pitch black.
A single puff, a blue plume.
HIM-4's sensors came alive at 70,000m, coasting to apsis. Its automated flight path detected the intercept point relayed by ground controllers bouncing their signal first off a nearby sattelite, then down to Krakain relays, and back up to the spacecraft. Self-diagnostics passed.
Thirty minutes later, the probe was coasting to rendezouves with the unknown vessel.
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