by Sarah Noffke
Bailey released a barrage of shots after the nearest Stingray, catching its wing with the end of the stream.
“Second Stingray has been disabled and is retreating,” Pip stated.
“And those other missiles you fired?” Lewis asked.
“Two were caught by asteroids, and one—”
The Stingray up ahead ignited like a firework, sending bits of itself raining in all directions.
“Let me guess,” Lewis interrupted Pip. “The last missile found its target.”
“Correct you are,” Pip said victorious.
“Which means…” Bailey inferred to herself, as she angled the ship around to find the last remaining Stingray.
The adrenaline rose in her veins, making her suddenly feel invincible. She swerved after the Stingray, keeping up with the ship easily.
“A communication is coming in,” Pip noted.
“Patch it through,” Bailey said.
“Ghost Squadron,” a deep voice crackled over the comm. “This is Geo with the Disbandits. We have you surrounded and demand you surrender.”
Bailey wanted to laugh. “What does he mean ‘surrounded’?”
Lewis pointed at the radar. “I think he means that reinforcements have arrived.”
Bailey glanced at the radar, and the adrenaline in her blood plummeted, sending a shiver down her arms.
A fleet of Stingrays were approaching the asteroid belt on their port side.
“Dammit!”
She pulled the trigger, firing on the Stingray in front of them. It dove, nearly colliding with an asteroid as it disappeared. “We can’t fight all of those.”
“I fear you’re correct,” Pip admitted. “Even an experienced pilot would struggle to take out all of those Stingrays.”
“We have to know when to admit defeat,” Lewis said, leaning forward in his seat.
“We’re not surrendering to those damn pirates,” Bailey said bitterly. “How do they even know we’re associated with Ghost Squadron?”
“The Disbandits have had dealings with Ghost Squadron,” Pip said. “It appears you’ve inherited them as enemies.”
The Disbandits were a sniveling, poor excuse for an organization of Trids who often skimmed off the top of mining corporations. They were also known for gambling, looting, and generally being shitty pirates.
“Looks like our best option is to continue the way we’re headed, through the asteroid belt,” Lewis said, pointing straight ahead.
They were already almost to the midway point, and fleeing was now the best option.
“They might still catch us, though,” Bailey said, having to slow the ship amid denser asteroid clusters.
“What if you throw on the cloak?” Lewis offered. “While we’re in the asteroid belt, it will be harder for them to find us, and hopefully we make fast enough time that we outrun them by the time we’re through it.”
Bailey thought for a moment, but it was Pip who replied first. “I think that’s the best plan we could hope for. It gives you enough time to get away. They’re far enough back that they don’t have a lock on you yet.”
“What about that Stingray we were just firing at?” Bailey asked.
“It appears to have joined the others,” Pip replied.
Bailey nodded. “Okay. We’ve stayed to fight, and now it’s time to flee.”
Lewis actually smiled, looking much more relaxed than when the fight had started. “All in a good day’s work, am I right?”
“Activate the cloak,” Bailey said to Pip.
“Cloak is activated,” Pip confirmed.
The ship outside the viewing window disappeared. It was a bizarre experience, but only one on the long list from the day.
Bailey grinned at Lewis as she sped the ship out of the asteroid belt. “All in a good day’s work.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Loading Bay, Ricky Bobby, Davida System
The port side wing of the Q-Ship tipped and skidded across the floor of the landing bay as Bailey slowed the craft. The smile on her face betrayed any nervousness she had.
Actually, Lewis had to give it to her. She was shockingly calm after flying her first mission—which included an asteroid belt and a surprise ambush by alien pirates. Bailey’s eyes appeared intense, bright, yet her shoulders remained relaxed. It was impressive; Lewis was grateful that she’d been the newbie pilot for this mission, and not some other soldier in training.
“Get ready for it,” Pip warned as Bailey opened the hatch, shaking out her arms.
“Get ready for what?” she asked.
“Nothiiiiiiing…” he said.
She shrugged off his warning and trudged out of the ship, blinking at the bright lights overhead. Hatch was already waddling over, Jack and Liesel beside him.
“You two all right?” Jack asked, scanning both Lewis and Bailey with his discriminating eyes.
Lewis nodded. “We’re fine, although we met some Trid pirates that thought we were Ghost Squadron. They seemed to want to settle a long-standing dispute with us.”
“I’m fine too, in case any of you are wondering,” Pip’s voice echoed from inside the ship.
Jack smiled goodhumoredly. “Glad to hear it, Pip,” he said in the direction of the ship before looking back at Lewis. “I can’t say I’m surprised. The Q-Ships have a unique design, and Ghost Squadron had quite the reputation for stomping out evil.” He paused. “I realize that you signed on only to find the crew, but—”
“If we need to pick up Ghost Squadron’s fight, that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Bailey cut in.
Jack looked speechless for a moment before he recovered. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Trouble seems to find us, and I can’t guarantee a smooth path to saving our people.”
Hatch didn’t appear to be listening as he hurried around the ship, inspecting it. Liesel and her ferret had disappeared around the other side, doing their own evaluations of the damages.
“The ship…” Hatch said, his voice a deep growl.
“Here it comes,” Pip sang.
“I’m sorry,” Bailey began. “The asteroid belt was an obstacle I struggled with, and the landing—”
Hatch spun around, an expression on his face like he’d swallowed a rock. “Sorry? You brought the ship back in one piece. And on your first mission! I expected way worse after an asteroid belt.”
“You what?” Pip asked, his voice rising three octaves.
“Thanks,” Bailey said, a nervous smile on her face. “The Trids got off a few rounds, and I took calculated hits from some asteroids in order to put the ship in a more strategic position.”
Hatch nodded, seeming to understand immediately. “Good call. And not to worry; ships can be repaired. It really takes no effort at all.”
“Since when?” Pip demanded. “How are you not yelling like you usually do when someone totals one of your ships?”
Liesel surfaced from the other side of the Q-Ships. “It’s not totaled, Pip. A few scratches and a leak, but it shouldn’t take more than a few hours to repair.”
“I’m really sorry,” Bailey said again. “I was trying to be careful.”
Hatch waved a tentacle at her. “Obviously. The evidence is that the ship is in one piece. I really thought you’d return the Q-Ship broken in half.”
Lewis lowered his chin and gave his uncle a mock look of offense. “Which brings me to my next concern. You all put me on a ship with an inexperienced pilot, and Hatch expected it to come back in bits.”
Jack laughed. “Hatch is exaggerating.”
“I am not,” the mechanic chirped, sliding under the ship as his form deflated to fit.
“Anyway, you two returned safely, and that’s where our focus should stay,” Jack stated.
“Three,” Pip corrected. “You meant ‘you three have returned safely’.”
Jack coughed discreetly. “Of course I did. Thanks for your assistance on this mission, Pip.”
“So now that the pleasantries are out of the way,”
Hatch said from under the ship, his voice muffled. “What did you all learn while at Phoenix Tech?”
Lewis pulled Hatch’s device from his jacket pocket and held it up. “We took a series of readings, and found that there was a strong correlation between the material and the monster.”
Hatch wheeled out from under the ship, scratching his head with one tentacle. “I’m not surprised. Did you take a sample of the mineral?”
Lewis shook his head. “We would have, but the mine had been entirely excavated. There was only dust.”
“That’s curious,” Liesel said, looking between Hatch and Jack.
“It gets worse,” Bailey stated. “The monster appears to have uploaded those at Phoenix Tech.”
The group fell silent, a foreboding slipping around them. “So Starboards Corp is behind this, then,” Jack concluded after a long silent moment.
“Yes. I believe they excavated everything and blew up one of the main mining sites to cover up traces of their involvement,” Lewis said.
“The device should give us some information on the mineral, although without a proper sample, I won’t be able to classify it,” Hatch said, his voice dropping with frustrated disappointment.
Bailey pulled the thumb drive from her pocket and held it up. “I was able to access an executive’s computer at Phoenix Tech and copy his entire hard drive. Maybe that will offer something more concrete.”
Hatch’s mouth dropped open. Liesel and Jack followed suit, looking at her blankly.
“That’s exactly what we need to find another lead—especially one that points back to Starboards Corp,” Jack said finally, reaching out and taking the drive she offered him. “If they were directing Phoenix Tech, there will be a paper trail.”
“It’s important to note that, whatever they were excavating, someone wanted it,” Bailey said.
“That’s right.” Lewis wagged his finger, remembering the Trids. “They said that someone was paying for the mineral.”
“Good work, you two,” Jack said, only to be immediately interrupted by a loud coughing sound from inside the ship. “I mean, good work, you three. This is the most progress we’ve made on this case. I’ll get to work reviewing these files.”
“And I’ll investigate the readings you brought back,” Hatch stated.
“What can we do in the meantime?” Bailey asked, already anxious for another assignment.
Jack smiled. “Rest up. This mission is going to move fast, and we’re going to need you two…three, ready to go.”
“Fine, fine,” Pip’s voice echoed from inside the ship. “I’ll take a nap. Wake me when you’re ready.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Officer’s Lounge, Ricky Bobby, Davida System
The can of beans made an awful screeching sound when Bailey turned it to face forward. The picture on the front of the can did little to appeal to her: brown beans swimming in brown liquid.
“Yum,” she said dully.
She ran her fingers over a can of green beans, a jar of beets, and tub of ranch dressing. “Anemic, disgusting without goat cheese, and I’d need something to dip in that,” she said, referring to each item she’d touched.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Lewis asked, popping his head into the doorway of the pantry.
Bailey looked back at the rows of food and gave him a look of confusion. “No, I’m obviously talking to this shelved food.”
“Silly me,” he said with a laugh, strolling inside to join her. “Did you find anything good?”
She shook her head. “We are without a chef, so we’re kind of on our own as far as eating goes. Although I’m creative, I’m at a loss for what to do with a bunch of canned items.”
“I’m guessing most of the fresh foods are spoiled?” Lewis asked.
“Yep.”
“And the frozen food is going to be a little past my own chef skills,” he admitted, plucking a jar of green olives from the shelf. “But grab a bag of chips, a jar of peanuts, and some fruit. I can fix us something.”
“What are you planning?” Bailey asked.
“We’re going to call it a smorgasbord,” he told her as he bounced the jar of olives in his hand.
Bailey grabbed a bag of potato chips under one arm, and the peanuts and a jar of peaches with the other, and followed Lewis to the bar in the middle of the Officer’s Lounge. The large room was barely lit, but she could almost picture the various crew members playing pool or darts, and relaxing between missions.
“Does it feel like we’re living in a ghost town to you?” she asked, dropping the food on the bar.
“Ha-ha,” Lewis said humorlessly, setting the olives down and going to work behind the bar. “Who would have thought that Ghost Squadron would become a ghost town? Sick irony.”
Bailey opened the bag of chips, the smell of grease hitting her in the nose. She was starving, but suddenly didn’t feel much like eating, thinking of the three hundred consciousnesses that were taken from the ship—not to mention those at Phoenix Tech.
“Yeah, there’s something about this place,” she said, forcing a potato chip into her mouth. “I know it seems strange, but I can imagine the crew walking around…like I can see them as if they were here.”
Lewis looked up suddenly, a startling look in his eyes. “That doesn’t sound strange at all.”
Bailey forced herself to swallow dry, the crumbs raking down her throat, scratching it. “You filling in the missing parts too, huh?”
He nodded, pulling two glasses from behind the counter. “It’s how my brain works. How I process something so horrific. I’ve had to solve bad cases before, but nothing where I was responsible for finding so many lost people.”
“We,” Bailey corrected with a slight smile.
“We,” Lewis agreed.
“What are the peanuts and peaches for?” she asked, pointing to the containers.
Lewis shrugged. “I’m not really good at putting stuff together, but I know my food groups.” He indicated the peanuts. “That’s our protein. The peaches are the fruit. The chips, our carbs.”
“And the olives?” she asked. “Are those our vegetables?”
Lewis offered a sideways smile. “Sure, but honestly, I can’t make a good martini without them.”
Bailey laughed. “You’re a detective, but you’re not good at putting things together?”
Lewis lifted his chin, like he suddenly remembered something. “Ricky Bobby, will you play some music, please?”
“What would you like to hear?” the AI asked.
“Excuse me for putting it this way,” he said lightly, “But something that makes it less depressing in here.”
A second later, the lights over the pool tables kicked on, followed by a low jazz melody. The other lights slowly flickered to life, making the bar appear more as it would after hours than deserted.
“Good thinking,” Bailey approved, taking another handful of chips.
Lewis poured half a shaker of vodka into a glass, and the other half in another. “I can put together clues, but I’m lousy with things like ingredients. I guess we all have a certain capacity; mine ends beyond detecting.”
“Or ranching,” she teased, taking the drink he slid across the bar.
He shook his head. “I wasn’t any good at ranching. Just ask my boss, Raymond.”
Harley trotted into the bar, gaining their attention. The dog’s eyes were low as he inspected the area around him, and sniffed the ground as he made his way closer to the pair.
Bailey clicked her tongue, and Harley strode over, putting his head on her leg, an unmistakable melancholy in his brown eyes.
“I know, buddy,” she cooed, scratching his head. “I know you miss your people.”
Harley seemed to want to say something, but didn’t, his gaze dropping down to the ground.
After a moment, Bailey asked Lewis, “So, why again were you a ranch hand?”
Lewis took a sip, puckering his mouth from the alcohol. “Sorry about the drink. App
arently I’m no good as a bartender either.”
“You’re all we got, so I’m not complaining,” she said, taking a drink too.
After he recovered, he said, “To answer your question, I got burned out on being a detective.” He took a handful of peanuts.
“Burned out?” she asked, pressing her lips out at the notion. “But isn’t it your passion?”
“Sure, but even those things we love can wear us out,” Lewis said, hunting around behind the counter.
“I’d say that especially the things we love can wear us out.” Bailey scratched Harley under his chin, enjoying the way he pressed into her hand. “I bet you’ve been starving for attention, little buddy,” she said to the dog.
Again he looked close to saying something, a gift his upgrades did allow him. Instead, he buried his nose into her knee.
“There you are,” Lewis said to something behind the counter. He plucked two forks from down low, holding them victoriously in the air.
Bailey took the cue and opened the jar of peaches. The smell of sweet syrup when the lid released was a stark contrast to the salt of the peanuts and chips.
Lewis handed her a fork with a wink. “Dinner of champions, am I right?”
“I’ve gone on less,” she said with a laugh, thinking of basic training.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, sticking his fork into the jar of floating spears, harpooning one. He pulled it out, cupping his hand underneath to catch the drips as he took a bite.
The two chewed in silence for a long minute, listening to the low music overhead.
Finally, Bailey said, “So, who is Melanie?”
Lewis stopped midchew, his fork faltering in his fingers. He caught it before it hit the bar. “Where did you come up with that name?”
She shrugged, pulling the jar of peaches closer to her and looking down into the floating mess. “I thought I heard you yelling it right before we met.”
“Oh,” Lewis said, wiping his mouth. “Yeah, maybe you did.”
“So why did you think she was here when you teleported?” Bailey dared to ask.
Lewis didn’t look at all receptive to this conversation, but she’d already decided that she needed to know everything, if they were going to work together. It might take a little effort to uncover his story, but she knew from experience that good partners trusted each other, and that came with revelations.
