Every so often I have a vision of Hubski as a sleek rebel battleship tearing through deep space at a large fraction of the speed of light, pursued by several vast Slithan attack fleets unleashing electric death, beams of terrifying energy glancing off its hull, sparks flying. Somewhere inside the main deck, after a particularly brutal hit, the lights having flickered into darkness and back up again, someone screams: 'My God, they hit the primary magflux distribution coil, we're a sitting duck.' Outside, moving so fast it's a blur, a sophisticated drone dodges sparks and minor explosions and heads directly for the damage. It comes to a halt long enough for us to catch the marking on its exoskeleton: MK001. Meanwhile inside the ship, the crew members breathe a sigh of relief as over the crackling comms channel MK's voice is heard: 'Fixed.'