Heath started evaluating at the manifests for ships docked on-station. It was a long list. He filtered it down to ships that could handle rapid gate jumps, and would have room for four. That narrowed the options down considerably. Too much. He went further, looking for small crews or people that might be open to a little bit of action outside of what was strictly legal.

  The four of them were eventually asked politely to vacate the park, so they made their way back towards the docks. It was late, but not late enough that spacers on shore leave weren’t still spilling out of the bars and restaurants. Blinking neon lights had transformed the family-friendly vacation destination into the kind of seedy nightlife that tourists were disappointed by and locals kept alive. Fryer oil and trace exhaust gave the authenticity to the experience that most day-trippers would rather not experience.

  A wide viewport offered a panorama of half the docks, ship lights winking like nearby stars against the backdrop of space. Every silhouette was represented. Sleek transports stuffed with every amenity for the well-off, patched junkers for in-system work, little skiffs for quick hops between ore farms.

  While he watched, a sleek ship painted pure black screamed into port. The deceleration was far too hard for the angle. His eyes went wide as he took in the collision course. Color him shocked when they pulled up perfectly, with only a gentle bump before the mag-lock latched on. Heath recognized the ship model. Any would-be Pilot or Captain worth their salt would place the graceful curves and perfect symmetry immediately. The Mako Gen 12 was a sweet little number. Fast, and rumor had it, handled like there was no separation between Pilot and ship.

  Four weeks. That was their best case scenario. He thought about his Uncle, and what Walt would do in the same situation. Not give up, that was for sure. If it took four weeks or four years, Walt would keep going. Then his thoughts drifted to one of the first and best pieces of advice Emerald had doled out: what kind of Captain did Heath want to be?

  He made a choice. Hands in pockets, he turned from the viewport and strolled back towards the docks, the others scrambling to catch up behind him.

  The Trickster was smiling on them, the new ship was docked in berth twelve. He slowed the pace. They needed to time this just right.

  A gaggle of loud Spacers passed from the dock into the concourse, laughing at some joke the crew of the Loon were in no mood to join in on. Heath slipped past the other way.

  “Hey man –” Copperfield started. Heath cut him off with a shake of his head.

  They arrived once more at dock twelve, what felt like a lifetime had passed in between, though in reality it had been maybe twelve hours since the Loon was stolen. He typed in the code that had been part of their docking packet.

  After a whir and a click, the door opened.

  He reached the hatch and slammed his hand onto the buzzer which would comm whoever was inside.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Copperfield chanted behind him.

  “Hello?” A confused voice filtered through the speakers. Young woman, by his guess. Untried. Likely had only signed on recently, and got the overnight shift because of it.

  “Port Authority. Random inspection,” Heath said. “Need to take a look around. Now.”

  “Oh. Okay. Um, just give me a second.”

  “Last chance,” Copperfield said. “You sure, man?”

  Heath thought of the Loon. The escape from ordinary into a lifetime of adventure when he was just a kid. And every day since then. Caring for Heath and the others, protecting them, learning what it was to be truly alive. He thought about Jenny Mae, ambitious but always smiling, looking for a place to belong.

  “I’m sure,” he said. “Anyone wants out, no hard feelings.”

  “As if,” Copperfield said.

  “Said I’m with you so I’m with you,” Emerald grunted, the emotion in their voice mortifying for the former Captain, turned mentor, first mate, and friend.

  “I will not turn back here. If my honor did not demand action, my feelings would insist.”

  “Aww, she likes us,” Copperfield said, crushing the moment.

  “Get ready.” He could see the stranger approaching through the small window set in the entryway.

  The hatch of the Mako slid open, a young spacer in a pristine uniform smiling nervously at their group. “Sorry about that. Didn’t realize we needed to be ready for an inspection.”

  “That’s acceptable. I take it no one more senior is on board?” Heath asked.

  “Nah.” She shrugged. “I drew the short straw this time. Everyone else is hitting up the entertainment before the work starts tomorrow.”

  “We’ve all been there,” Heath commiserated. He stepped into the hold and looked around. The interior of the Mako was just as sleek as the outside. A balcony surrounded the main hold, all painted in the same matte black as the hull. Two doors branched off the bottom level, one on the top. Crew quarters, recreation, and bridge, respectively.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  He let himself feel the guilt as he informed the greenie spacer that they needed to look through the whole ship. She obliged. Why wouldn’t she? Offending local authorities, and thereby the station master, was a good way to get kicked off a crew. Especially for a new recruit.

  Copperfield needed no instruction, grabbing Emerald and setting off towards the rec area, while subtly nudging Ekaterina towards the crew quarters. Heath headed to the bridge.

  Gabby was, just like he had guessed, a brand new member of the crew, and more than willing to spill her life story. She had gained a common Station Laborer Class, but was planning to specialize as soon as she was able. Landing a berth on the Mako, designation Wraith, had been her lucky break. Working for peanuts, she would have the opportunity to earn the necessary skills and experience for a Class evolution. Only three weeks into her contract, she was already part of the way there, spending an inordinate amount of time cleaning the ship by hand.

  Harsh, but it sounded like it would work towards becoming a Spacer. In fact, Gabby was ecstatic about the whole scenario. And so were her parents, who had leveraged their cousin’s neighbor’s friend’s connection to get her the interview in the first place.

  All of which Heath learned before they made it to the bridge. He didn’t try and push away the guilt, he’d have plenty of time to do that later. But the fact she reminded him of Jenny just made him more determined to see this through. It was too late to back out anyway.

  The bridge was all cool, blue lights, shiny chrome, and more of the unending black. Aesthetically impressive, but a bridge was a bridge. To the side he noticed a pile of sewing, and assumed it was Gabby’s way of passing an otherwise boring watch.

  “We have to check access, can you spin up the main controls?”

  “Oh, sure. I didn’t realize you would need to see that.” She got down to it, using her own credentials.

  “I don’t suppose you have emergency override access? We’re supposed to check full manifests.”

  “Umm, I do,” she said. For the first time, the greenie sounded like she was second guessing things. “I’m not supposed to use it unless it’s an emergency though.”

  A quiet swish announced the bridge door opening.

  “This is an emergency,” Heath said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He took a deep breath. “You don’t need to. Use them now.”

  “How about you show some ID.” Oh Gabby. No need to be a hero now.

  Stepping to the side, Copperfield pointed a phase pistol at Gabby. Her eyes went wide, then even wider when Emerald stepped up behind her and started tying her arms together.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Heath said.

  “Screw you, asshole!” She shouted.

  “Yeah. I deserve that.” From somewhere, Emerald produced a scarf he tied in as a gag when Gabby started screaming.

  The Captain’s chair was comfortable, expensive and high-end, just like the rest of the Mako. Heath felt dirty as he took it. Partial access would have to be enough. A quick scan of the available menus showed him the systems he had access to. Not override controls, unfortunately.

  Ekaterina returned to the bridge then, carrying a syringe. She took in the whole scene and stepped forward, stabbing into Gabby’s thigh, despite the other woman’s attempt to jerk out of the way. Gabby’s eyes blinked slowly. Once, twice, then she was out.

  “Get her somewhere out of the way, but safe,” Heath ordered.

  Copperfield sidled up beside him while the others went to follow orders. Their timer was already counting down, had started the moment he typed in the access code that should have been stale.

  “You got it?”

  “Partial access. Main systems, no flight control.”

  “Okay, try looping through the life support.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, it’s a backdoor almost every ship has off the line because of how the engines need to be made. Don’t usually get out of the Core without patching it up, but this girl’s so new I can practically smell the shipyard. Don’t worry, I told the Loon about it and she made sure it wouldn’t work.”

  “Yeah, well, next time close the loopholes for technomagic-virus/curse hybrids,” Heath said. “I’m in the life-support matrix, but it’s not letting me edit anything.”

  “Don’t need to.”

  “Loop back and forth, main menu to life support a few times. Then hop over to Engineering.”

  “There’s no way this works,” Heath said. But he followed the instructions anyway. “No access.”

  “Keep going. It will eventually register as a bug and the overrides will kick in.”

  Copperfield sat at one of the other stations, piggy-backing off of Heath’s access. He was so deep in his own pattern, repeating each step over and over, that he almost missed it when the insane method worked.

  Between one cycle and the next, the engineering menu lit up with modification options. “Holy shit,” he breathed. Not waiting for anything to go wrong, he jumped over to flight controls. “I’m in.”

  He flicked on the ship-wide comms. “Ekaterina, Emerald, you good?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Ekaterina was handling the moment better than he expected. “The idiot is dealt with.”

  Heath winced at the pronouncement, but kept going. “Wraith to Mosaic station. We are undocking.”

  “So soon, Wraith?”

  “Yup. Sorry about the hassle.”

  “Any trouble?”

  “Nope. Just in a hurry.”

  “Okay, you’re clear to go.”

  The mag-clamps holding the ship in place released, retracting back towards the berth itself. The bridge was too far to hear the airlock seal, but Heath felt the hiss all the same.

  Then they were off. He tapped the thrusters and felt the whole ship jerk to the side. “Everything okay Wraith?”

  Heath ignored the comm from the station, muting his side of the line but not willing to cut it off and raise suspicion while they were still in firing range. “She’s sensitive,” he muttered to himself.

  With the lightest touch his Precision score was capable of, Heath returned to the thrusters. This time, the shift was smooth. And fast. He pushed the engine until they flew past the Loon’s top accel and kept climbing.

  “Wraith, this is station control. We’re seeing some discrepancies and requesting you redock.”

  He flipped the comms back on. “In a hurry. Sorry.” Then he cut the line.

  “Ship, how long to jump gate?”

  “One and a half hours,” came the uncaring reply.

  “Lock on and alert for any pursuit. Acknowledge.”

  “Order confirmed.”

  Heath sagged, like his bones had liquified. He had just done that. Turned pirate. Forget a little quiet smuggling, this was way beyond that. He hadn’t just dipped a toe across the line, he had obliterated it. And dragged the others with him. He realized then he was shaking. With relief or grief or fear or rage, or some terrible combination of all of them, he couldn’t say.

  The others had arrived on the bridge during their flight, but they were looking at him to speak, to lead. “Thank you.” It was not enough, and totally inappropriate, but it was all he could think to say.

  Ekaterina scoffed. “Who would have known that piracy was so easy.”

  “Hey now,” Copperfield cut in. “It’s only easy because we had pure luck and some unsuspecting greenie get us 90 percent of the way there before she caught on.” He scratched at where the stubble was growing on his chin. “It’s not usually like that.”

  “Any sign of pursuit?” Emerald asked, cutting through the brewing argument.

  “None so far. Ship?”

  “No signs of pursuit. Repeated hails from Mosaic Station. Subspace channels flagging Wraith as detainable. Alarms engaged.”

  “Thanks,” Heath said. It was out of habit more than anything. Hearing anything from an unfeeling mechanical voice was jarring after getting used to the Loon’s commentary. Like sliding into an old outfit and realizing it didn’t fit anymore.

  “I seem to remember a discussion of ‘coming down like the Hammer of the Titan’ in response to piracy. Alarms would seem to support the claim,” Ekaterina mused.

  “Yeah, well. They don’t have anything fast enough to catch us,” Heath said. “Find some bunks and see if you can get some rest. No stops until we get to the Loon and Jenny Mae.