Well what the hell is that?

There’s a smudge on the window that comes into focus and it’s not a smudge at all. It’s just got a weird shape that doesn’t gel with what you’d expect to see out here.

It’s three masts. Tattered impossibly thin golden solar sails. A pointlessly long body from the times before people moved beyond the nostalgia of water faring vessels.

In fact, it does look like a ship. A ship ship. And an old one.

They couldn’t place it. But it tickled somewhere behind their gray eyes and they reflexively reached up with their right hand and ran a finger over the ridge of the scar that left the side of their head hairless. Out of balance with the other side of straight black hair tucked behind their ear.

Something familiar.

Have I seen that before somewhere?

As they nudged their ship closer they picked out the meatless bones of struts and bulkheads that gave a ghostly appearance of a child’s drawing. A suggestion of a shape. And they filled in the details.

Plating it with thick… metals? I suppose?

They snapped a picture and the ship searched. And it brought up an Excelsior class that sort of pretty much looked like it.

They haven’t made those in a thousand years.