“Pirates,” Greaves announced, interrupting a perfectly normal game of holochess with a display of the fleet’s formation, a flicker of a glorious ship fluttering across the faceless queen’s crown before fading entirely from view. “Dragon class.”
“About time,” Izz muttered, and reluctantly untangled herself from the delightfully warm nest she’d made amongst the metal-and-grease scent she associated with the hold of full of antiques salvaged from early spaceships and colonies.
Izz snorted. It was certainly better than the lingering scent of burnt onion roots. She held her breath and hurried in sock feet through the galley and into the cockpit.
“Good electronic warfare capabilities,” Greaves continued. “Laser defenses. I like those. You should upgrade me so I can have some.”
“Shush, you.” Leaning over, she hit the red button and hopped on one foot to tug her abandoned boots on. “You’re late, Grigg.”
A holo popped up in return, a miniature but perfectly formed – if showing off far too much chest via his unbuttoned jumpsuit – man posing for her view. “Aye, lass, but m’here, no?”
“Been waiting,” she returned, waving a second boot at the flexed muscles masquerading as a pilot. “Near a week now.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, love.”
“You’ll comp the extra supplies?” She raised an eyebrow and held it there, hoping he’d break before she wobbled.
Her eye muscles were barely strained when Grigg gave his answer.
“Acourse, love. I’ll have Pan see to it straightaway.”
“Then we’re five by five.” Her father had always said that phrase. She’d have to ask the AI about the origin. Speaking of…she jabbed the black button to pause the transmission.
“Greaves, keep it low profile, will you?”
A sniff was the only response from the illegal AI.
Izz jabbed the red button again, tabbing up her boots and wondering whether getting mixed up with Griggs and his lot was a good idea.
“Sorry, cut out there.” She gave a real smile of welcome. “Good to see you again, Grigg.”
“Someone’s got to get to the surface,” he said. “My fleet shelters you from the meteorite storm, you sneak us down planetside while the radar’s taken offline. You get the booty, I get my contact and his info out.”
She frowned, worried about last-minute changes sneaking into the agreement. Grigg was a pirate, no matter that he was also a childhood friend who’d called in a mark she couldn’t ignore, not if she wanted to return to familiar ports again. “As we agreed.”
“Be over shortly, love.” Griggs glanced over his shoulder and nodded to someone she couldn’t see. “These dragons’ll shelter you through the storm. Quick and easy in’n out, yeah?”
The transmission fizzled.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of…” Izz’s whisper turned into a whistle of surprise. “Greaves, those ships are packing more than meets the eye, aren’t they?”
“Affirm,” the AI noted. “Hidden weapons detected in expected and unusual locations, newly installed. Do you have reason to believe this mission is more dangerous than the pirate suggested?”
Izz returned the sarcasm. “Only my entire childhood.”
***
Becky and I traded prompts this week. I received dragons surfing the storm (and took some liberties); she found Chaos in a puppy. Find more over at MOTE!
