The Xûrfboard

The ship's a spruced-up Galliot, glorious in its pearlescent blue paint and bizarre angles. Just looking at it makes Rahila want to take it on a joyride clear out of the Sol system. Walking up the gangway into the ship itself makes her want to cry.

The ship has the necessary long-range capabilities and just enough expanded capacity for a full fireteam's worth of supplies and survey equipment. Between the Vanguard's support, generous contributions from the Awoken, and several upgrades courtesy of a lapsed Dead Orbit adherent, the ship's a lot to be entrusted with.

"These new sensors are something else," Isidro announces from the cockpit. "If so much as a mouse sneezes out there in the black, we'll pick it up."

Rahila squints at him. "A mouse?"

"Space-mice. Or, you know, a gravitational anomaly. Or mysterious, freaky signals."

"Vanguard will be along in a few to see us off." Roche-5's composed baritone emerges from the hatch leading to the cargo hold. "You two ready?"

Rahila settles into the copilot's chair. "To go find out what's left of our solar system? 'Course we are."

"Remember," Roche intones gravely, "This is pure recon. No big risks."

Rahila and Isidro exchange grins. "Sure thing."