Stowaway v1.0

There are two distinct groups of merchants plying the void of space between worlds.  Corporate brokers fly massive dreadnought-class freighters from  planet to planet on well established, profitable routes that simply have no room for smaller independents.  Free Traders, on the other hand, either fly low-yield runs not profitable enough for the corporate ships to bother with, or forge dangerous new routes through uncharted space, risking their ships and livelihood for unimaginable
profit.
<.p>
You like to play it safe.  You always have, ever since you were a child.  After you inherited your uncle Charles' ship, the Dreamstorm, you've been traveling along low-risk low-reward routes.  Sure, you'll never get rich this way, but you make enough to provide for yourself and keep your ship running.  Mostly.
<.p>
You've just embarked on one of your usual runs, carrying machine parts from Earth to sell on the less developed Jovian moon of Europa.  Its one of your longer routes, over a month in duration.  Most free traders work in teams, but you really can't afford to split your meager profits with a partner.    Fortunately, you've always been a solitary person, but the long jaunts through space do get lonely.
<.p>
You are awakened from a light nap by a low beeping coming from the computer, signifying a diagnostic message.
<.p>
Bridge
Your bridge is the nerve center of your ship, the place where important command decisions are made.  In reality, other than when taking off or landing, the computer controls the astrogation and piloting, so you spend most of your time in your quarters through the aft hatch.  Your command chair is quite comfortable, however, and you sometimes take your meals gazing at the stars through the main screen set into the fore bulkhead.  Because your ship is almost entirely automated, the only equipment here is your communications hub and the ship's computer.    A box of cookies sits within easy reach of your command chair.  

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