“If that kind of information even exists, I bet it’s kept secret among pirates and other outlaws who call this hellhole of a sector home.”
“I’m afraid my fearsome Amazonian is correct, Captain,” Mal said, adopting his butleresque persona once more. “Along with a general paucity of detailed, accessible data on the Badlands, there is nothing about a vessel repair center in particular.”
“They must have something like it, though,” Grady said, scratching his cheek. “I mean, pirates and slavers need their spaceships patched-up just like anyone else, right? They can’t exactly sidle up to New Heb and ask the authorities for dock time. They’d find themselves under arrest as soon as they stepped off their vessel.”
“Or blown out of the ether before they even had a chance to approach,” added the AI.
“Then we’ll just have to find a talkative brigand and ask them,” Zoe said with a chuckle.
Grady rounded on her and clicked his fingers. “Give that infantry grunt a prize.”
“Huh?” Zoe said, taking in the grin spreading across Grady’s face. “Um, what wacky scheme is cooking in that devious mind of yours?”
“We’re going to do exactly what you just suggested. We’ll ask a pirate for directions.”
“What? Forgive me, Captain Crazy, but have you lost your marbles?” Zoe leaned over the side of her seat, her brow still furrowed. “Pirates aren’t exactly known for being helpful and talkative, especially with strangers. They’re more likely to want to disable Adventurer and strip her of anything valuable, after disposing of or having their way with us first, of course. Sounds like an insane idea, if you don’t mind my sayin’.”
“Ahem, I have to second that,” added the AI. “Perhaps the purified air in this dimension has caused you to become momentarily delusional. No offense meant, of course, Captain.”
“None taken. And I agree with both of you,” Grady responded with an easy laugh.
When Zoe’s frown turned to open puzzlement, he continued. “That’s why we’ve got to bait the hook just right. We’re going to make it seem as if we’re easy pickings and lure in an unsuspecting pirate. By the time they realize we’re not the pushover they first imagined, it’ll be too late. For them, that is.”
2
No sooner had Grady finished making an announcement, informing the crew about their plans to lure in a pirate vessel and gather intel, than Tara appeared at the cockpit entrance, travel mug in hand. “Hey Sis, couldn’t sleep, huh?”
Tara cracked a yawn. “Not when someone insists on making a ship-wide broadcast while I’m burrowed under the covers. I was having the most wonderful dream.” She arched an eyebrow at Zoe, stifled a giggle, and whispered, “I’ll tell you all about it later. Girl stuff.”
Ignoring the comment, Grady twisted around in his seat. “Sorry about that.” His mildly amused expression suggested he wasn’t all that contrite. “But I did promise to keep everyone informed of developments. We’re in uncharted waters here, so to speak, and none of us can really know what to expect in this dimension.”
“Sure, sure,” Tara said with a wave of her free hand as she settled into the copilot’s seat. She slugged her sugary black coffee and smacked her lips. “Ah, now I feel human again.”
Zoe made a sweeping gesture. “Where’s your furry shadow?”
“Chowing down in my quarters. I put out fresh synth-meat and water before heading to the galley.”
“I presume you left your door open?”
“Naturally,” Tara said, grinning. “Otherwise, Gizmo’d only end up wailing like a banshee and trying to rip the door to shreds. I really need to clip his claws. If he’ll let me.” She ignored her brother’s look of consternation, slurped more coffee, and placed the mug in a cupholder on the side of the console. “So, we’re the bait, is that it?”
“Yep,” Grady said. “We need up-to-date intelligence on the state of the Badlands in this parallel universe. Not just where to find a repair facility, hopefully, but also potential threats and specific regions to avoid.”
“What if the only suitable space dock is in a dangerous area?” Tara asked. “Heck, come to think of it, isn’t the entire Badlands one huge hazardous sector?”
“No question, it is,” Zoe chimed in. “I bet they don’t get many tourists here. It’s not exactly a prime vacation spot.”
“Not unless your idea of a holiday is charbroiling marshmallows over a plasma fire in a hidden asteroid base and roughing it with miscellaneous cutthroats.” Tara gave a husky chuckle. “Heck, who’d ever want to visit here by choice unless they were on the wrong side of the law? Excluding us, that is. I guess we’re the lucky exceptions.”
“Relatives,” Grady said in a flat voice.
“Huh?”
“Well, even brigands have a birth family, right?” he said. “Some combination of a mom, dad, maybe siblings, etcetera etcetera. They might want to call on their capricious progeny sometime.”
Zoe stroked the butt of the laser pistol strapped to her thigh. “Nah, I just can’t picture mom and dad buccaneer cozying up with junior in some family-friendly corner of the Badlands. They’re more likely to disavow all knowledge of their lawless offspring.”
“Pirates have been living here for decades, yes?” Tara said.
“Oh, way longer,” Zoe said. “The Badlands have been a haven for bandits and the dregs of society ever since the first settlers poked their wary noses into this remote sector.”
“Then it stands to reason entire generations of criminals have been born and died way out here on the fringes of known space.”
Grady nodded. “Pirate dynasties. Makes sense. We just have to ensure—”
The internal comm beeped, cutting him off. Grady eyed the pilot’s display and noted the comm request was from Fidelon’s quarters. He leaned forward and said, “Captain here. What can I do for you?”
“I listened to your announcement with interest,” the alien replied, his cadence and accent unfamiliar. “May I have a word with you in private before you implement your plan? Given our changed circumstances, there is vital information I must share with you.”
Grady nodded, then remembered Fidelon couldn’t see the gesture. “Certainly. Your cabin?”
“That would be preferable, yes.”
“Go,” Tara said, grasping the control stick. “I’ve got the con.”
Grady pushed to his feet. “I’m on my way. Just going to stop off and grab a coffee first, and then join you in your quarters.”
