Jace Rosson
Jace had finally realized just how low on warp fuel he was. The escape craft he commandeered wasn't really going to get him far, he knew that much. But he had hoped that he would at least be in range of something, a planet, or maybe an occupied asteroid. It would seem his luck was starting to run low as well however, as a quick glance at the immediate area around the cockpit showed no signs of nearby stations. He was in a small, car-sized escape craft with no warp fuel, barely any rations, and a few feet of free space. A quick check of the emergency supplies showed that he lacked a space suit as well, so no spacewalks.
He went to the control panel next to the flight stick, and after pressing some various buttons and sorting his way through various menus, he pressed a button labelled 'Distress Ping.'
Any ships in a few lightyears would receive the following message.
"This is Jace Rosson. I'm in a stranded escape craft, I'm low on fuel, and I could really use a hand. I've just been through hell and back, and I'd really rather not end up a skeleton out here."
He kept it brief and to the point. No reason to waste what power the ship had left. He adjusted himself in the creaking seat and waited, hoping that eventually, someone would pick up. With luck, they'd actually want him alive.