Planetary Problems Jill's Interstellar Travels chapter 1 by TinyLesbo

It had been three days since Jillifer had seen another person. Shuttling through the vast void of space at warp speeds, it wasn't exactly a busy profession.

But hey, if she wanted a busy profession, she would've followed her older sister and gone into marketing. 

The cold, loneliness of space got to her on occasion, but astral cartographer was a pretty cool job title, and at the tender age of 14, she was the best in her field.

"Just make sure you come home safe!" Her mother's recorded voice wept, all tinny from wear. How many times had the same phone call looped over in the background as she pottered about on the ship, slingshotting past desert planets and weaving through asteroid fields? Who knew?

What was important was the friendly voices. They kept her company, kept her sane, as her job led her to who knows where. Darting off into the black unknown was part of the fun, because it means she could decide where she was, at least once she was done finding and exploring the place.

"There you go, guys," Jill smiled warmly, watering a pot of daisies. Their little faces were a little crestfallen from their time on the ship, snatching at what little light they could through the windows, but they kept a brave face. The ship provided enough light, albeit artificial, so as long as they got enough water and nutrients, they were happy and hale. With a coy sigh, Jill supposed she could relate.

Her craft was old, almost as old as her, but at least until the next generation caught her up in a few years, no ball of dirt was going to separate her from her livelihood. 

At least until the warning signs started flashing anyway. Plunging the cockpit into a pulsing red, her friendly daylight was wiped from the slate, and suddenly she couldn't potter any more.

"Ungh, what now," she groaned, kicking the watering can back into its place and approaching the chair. A good two dozen different screens were flashing at her, and while vital signs were reading perfectly fine for the most part, screen B4 detected an 'abnormality' near the ship's back left fin.

Hitting a few buttons on the keyboard, her frown grew and deepened with every staccato clack. Despite the autopilot, and despite the ship's shields, a hairline fracture was snaking its way down the fin, growing bigger by the minute. It wasn't a problem right now, but she had maybe a couple of hours before it came one, and no matter how good a pilot she was, this thing wasn't going to fly accurately with a chipped fin. She'd have to compensate for the change in weight distribution, aerodynamics, balance...

And if she was having to do that, who was going to doomscroll?

Setting one of her computers to analyse the fracture, she set a course for the nearest hospitable planet. A couple hours' detour was better in the long run than a week or ten days of fishtailing through the Osiris Quadrant. 

Jill's chair groaned under her weight as she sunk her face into her elbows. The signal was reaching out, a healthy green bubble sparkling against the radar void. Sure, it wasn't exactly a problem, but of course it had to happen. It couldn't have just been an easy job. Find a new planet, maybe meet some inhabitants, gather some useful resources and leave. 

Things had to get complicated, didn't they?

Her computer beeped back at her, 'Fin C Fracture, Analysis. Damage is mostly surface level, however conditions are aggravated by prolonged exposure. Hardware repairs necessary.'

"Ugh. Thanks mom." Jill groaned, regretting that setting choice more and more every time there was an issue. Unfortunately, those settings were set in stone the moment they were made, so she had to live with it. Mom, telling her things she already knew, belittling her, caring for...

Her.

Jill blinked away her wistfulness. Now wasn't the time to have emotions. A planet was approaching, and she had a ship to repair. Hardware repairs weren't ideal, but if she couldn't fix it with her tools, she could always forage something up. This lonely blob, lost in the void of space... it had to have something she could use.

With an uncharacteristic wobble, her ship pierced the planet's atmosphere. Jerking awkwardly in one corner, Jill had to compensate for a sudden increase of gravity, and what felt like wind from one side. Strong, but nothing like the intercosmic jet streams she'd grown used to, the conditions nevertheless needed her full attention.

Putting mom's recording on pause for a moment, she battled with the thrusters and stabilisers as her ship slowly descended, the blackness of space slowly sinking away, replaced by an apple green sky. 

That wasn't an encouraging sign, Jill frowned. Green skies usually weren't breathable, and while she had her suit handy in a pinch, why wear that if she could wear a tank top and shorts? 

Favouring the thrusters towards the front right, Jill kept the ship steady, and scanned the screens, looking for anywhere with enough land to support her. If it was bigger than a garage, she could land on it.

A few button mashes, lever grinding and swear words later, her ship gently crunched down onto flat land. Hopping into her suit just in case, Jill grabbed a toolbox and a blowtorch, ready to mend her way back into the skies.