F3 Set Sail

"Flynn, we've cleared the shock."
"Sensors." Flynn ordered.
"No ships close by. We've got several streams. Very high speed." Ann's enthusiasm was hard to miss.
"Set course for Antares Station. Cut system engines and deploy sails."

"Yes." Excitement tinged her voice. She loved to show off her sailing.
Along the ship's masts, the exotic filament sails rose, harnessing the streams of dark energy, pulling the ship, accelerating it to well past the speed of light. It wasn't a jump drive, but interstellar sailing was a lot cheaper and still a fast way to get around.
"We're at five knots. Time to Antares is four and a half days."
"You weren't kidding about that stream speed, Ann."
"You haven't seen anything. I plan on shaving half a day off that."
"If anyone can, you can, but don't wreck my ship."
"Wouldn't dream of it, but you might want to tell Hank to shore up the kinetic struts."
Flynn shook his head. "You've got the ship. I'm going to catch some sack time. I'll take over in six hours."
"Tell Hank!" Ann shouted as Flynn left the bridge, the ship thrumming as one of its masts groaned in protest at the strain.
"Hold together just a few more days." Flynn patted a bulkhead.