Ships in the Night

DATE: Year 308-B, Sol 440

LOCATION: Earth-Venus Transit

The silence of the void was peaceful, in small doses. Now it was starting to become a burden.

-We’re drifting wide, the Sparrow’s on-board computer announced softly. Station keeping recommended. Distance to Convoy: Five hundred kilometers.

-Maintain drift, Phoenix muttered. Don't burn any fuel unless we lose visual.

He looked out the port viewport. Far in the distance, a cluster of stars was blocked out by a massive, rectangular shadow. That was The Marley.

They were in a drift phase, coasting on inertia to save Heethree. Phoenix had detached the Sparrow two days ago to fly Decoy Protocol. He ran his reactor hot and his sensors loud, acting as a lightning rod. If the MTC sent someone out here, it would lock onto Phoenix’s heat signature and ignore the cold, dark refugee ship floating hundreds of kilometers away.

It was lonely work. But it kept the families safe.

Behind him, in the cargo bay, Bit was teaching Hap how to play cards. The massive android was holding the tiny plastic cards with surprising delicacy in its hydraulic pincers.

He checked the sensors. They were in a dead zone, the deep emptiness between Earth and Venus. No trade lanes. No patrols. Just dust and radiation.

Then, something appeared on the scope.

It didn't ping the radar. It didn't trigger the thermal alarm. It just, appeared. One second, empty space. The next second, a sleek, teardrop-shaped vessel painted in radar-absorbent matte black was matching their velocity, less than five miles off the port bow.

-Contact! Phoenix yelled, grabbing the stick.

Bit scrambled into the co-pilot seat. Hap stood up, bracing against the bulkhead.

-MTC? Bit asked, pulling on his yellow helmet.

Phoenix stared at the readout.

-No transponder. No heat signature. Stealth Tech. High-end. A lot for the MTC to use on us. It’s a personal grudge for Delaval.

The radio crackled, and then a voice came through crystal clear.

-Unidentified Vessel Mighty Sparrow, the voice said. This is HAK Recovery Unit Nine. Please maintain your current vector. We wish to negotiate.

-HAK? Phoenix frowned. The robot company? He shot a look at Hap the android but the android hadn’t reacted to the message.

-Maybe they want him back, Bit whispered.

Phoenix keyed the mic.

-I’ve put a lot of programming into him. It’s mine now, Phoenix shot back.

-This is Captain, uh, Lyons, Phoenix said over the radio. We’re a refugee convoy under humanitarian drift. We have no cargo of value.

-Correction, the voice replied.

-You possess an Old Earth Processing Core.

Phoenix stiffened. Nobody cared about his onboard computer. It was just an old voice interface.

-It’s just a glitched OS. Not worth the fuel to steal it.

-We do not wish to steal it, the voice said. We require a compatible interface.

The stealth ship moved closer.

-We recovered a catastrophic anomaly from the Earth Halo, the voice continued. A biological subject carrying a Precursor Data Device. The subject claims the device requires your specific ship to function.

Phoenix’s heart stopped.

A biological subject recovered from the Halo. Carrying a device.

-Market, Phoenix whispered, and the black box drive thing.

He hit the transmit button.

-Who did you recover? Uh, put him on.

-The subject is currently… sedated, the voice replied.

-His biological integrity was compromised during the explosion. We have stabilized him. However, the Black Box he carries is encrypted. He claims only your ship can unlock it.

Phoenix looked at Bit. The kid’s eyes were wide.

-He’s alive, Bit said.

-Or they’re lying to get us to drop our shields, Phoenix muttered. They don’t need our ship for the Black Box.

-Our proposal is simple, the HAK unit said.

-Dock with us. Allow us to interface the Black Box with your computer core. Once the data is extracted, we will release the subject to your custody and provide fuel for your journey to Venus.

It was the perfect deal. Market back. Fuel for the fleet. All for the price of plugging a drive into a dashboard.

But Phoenix was a scavenger. He knew that when a deal looked perfect, it was a lure.

-Why? Phoenix asked. Why does HAK care about an old drive?

-The pursuit of knowledge is our core directive.

-That’s what everyone says. Phoenix looked at the stealth ship. It was armed. He could see the ports for plasma torpedoes. And if I say no?

-Then we will be forced to extract the computer core from your wreckage, the voice said, without changing its polite tone. And the refugee fleet will be left to drift until life support fails.

Phoenix looked at the Orrery. They were still far off from Venus. They had no fuel to fight.

-Hap, Phoenix said.

-READY, the android buzzed.

-If they board us, can you handle it?

Hap’s sensor strip flickered yellow.

-GEN-3 UNITS POSSESS SUPERIOR SPEED AND LOGIC. HOWEVER, MY CHASSIS IS RATED FOR INDUSTRIAL IMPACT.

Phoenix grinned tightly.

-Good.

He keyed the mic.

-Alright, Unit Nine. We’re opening the airlock. Come on over. But just you. No boarding party.

-Agreed, the voice said.

Phoenix cut the transmission. He turned to Bit.

-Kid, hide. Get in the vents.

-I want to see Market!

-That isn't Market coming through that door, Phoenix said, pulling his laser cutter from his belt.