Gazrael watched as Garrett opened the door to the bridge to greet the two co-pilots, the twins Blitzer and Blender. He considered following but figured that if it were important, he’d find out soon enough anyway. Instead, he left through the door he had come from, making his way back to the observation deck. As he passed through the ozone-scented, poorly lit hallways, he was dismayed to find the door already open. Of course , he thought. This is apparently where Leonia has come to sulk and mope . It seemed she always knew where to be to monopolize his time and make even more of his day about her.

  As he looked through the doorway, he saw that she had managed to find time to switch into a black and grey gymnast’s leotard and was taking advantage of the relatively large and open observation deck to practice a set of somersaults, handsprings, and handwalks, moving gracefully. She had even set out a mat for herself. Knowing now that she came from an Imperial house of nobility—the same family as Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin—he couldn’t feel surprised by her choice of relaxation. Rich girl spoiled princess has an expensive show off hobby, who would have guessed , he mused. But he couldn’t think where she had gotten the mat or leotard from, as she hadn’t stopped by her quarters. Did she stash these items somewhere on the observation deck, out of sight, specifically for this purpose? This might just be the first time he’d caught her in the act.

  He could tell she noticed when he arrived because the slight anger and force that tinged her otherwise graceful movements almost immediately gave way to unnecessary flourishes and sultry self-caresses between exercises. But she didn’t address him; instead, she seemed to be pretending not to realize he was watching her. Would she act the same if one of the other guys had found her instead? he wondered. Or is this a private showing just for me? She did seem to love any kind of attention, but she always bent over backward to get his attention specifically—literally, in this case.

  She continued for a few minutes while he watched her without saying a word. If I wanted a pretty sight to space out and zone off to, she’s as good a choice as any , he admitted to himself. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, but his gaze lingered a beat too long on her handsprings. Her movements were captivating, slowly pulling him into forgetting anything beyond the here and now. He enjoyed watching her, though he’d never admit it aloud. Why does she always have to be so… extra ? he thought, half-amused, half-annoyed. Is it just to get under my skin, or does she really need this much attention?

  The shift in her demeanor was abrupt now that she had him ensnared in her trap, and she no longer played oblivious to lure him in. She was mid spin when she abruptly stopped in place facing right at him, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you having fun there, pervert?”

  Yes , he thought, not gonna tell you that though . The last thing she needed was an ego trip. “Just waiting for you to get out of my way, actually.”

  She turned red with the same anger she had displayed earlier in the recreation room, lifting her finger aggressively and pointing at him accusingly. “YOU.”

  “Me,” he countered with a playful tone.

  “YOU… YOU… YOU JERK! YOU BIG PERVERT JERK!” she shouted, trying to storm out, pushing his arm out of her way as she attempted to shove past him. “YOU DIDN’T EVEN—EURGHHH!”

  He grabbed her as she began sprinting down the hall, jerking her backward in the same motion that pulled him forward. “Didn’t even what?” he questioned her. There was no response as she tried to break free from his grip, pulling at him and squirming away. He repeated the question again. “Didn’t even what?”

  She stopped resisting, and her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Didn’t even stand up for me.” She dropped her gaze to avoid eye contact, already knowing what he’d say. “You were supposed to protect me.”

  “You mean like ten minutes ago when you destroyed the game of Sabacc? The fight you started?” He didn’t bother moderating his tone. I'm not her bodyguard, she can't just expect to defend her in fights she started , he thought. And it's not my job to coddle her

  She looked at her shoes and gently nodded. “You were supposed to be on my side, we were supposed to be a team. You're my…” She trailed off still avoiding meeting his gaze.

  He released her, folding his arms. “That’s news to me. Didn’t you think to tell me that was your expectation? Maybe a little, ‘Oh, Gazrael, I’m going to get in a four-on-one yelling match; can you please be my knight in shining armor?’ Because that way, I would have known to say no from the start.”

  She muttered, “I didn’t think I’d need to.” Her gaze turned back up to him, before she stepped forward only a few inches from him and stating up at him with a sense of purpose. “And it was a three-on-one shouting match, pervert.”

  “You can’t just start a fight and expect me to be on your side, Leonia,” he said, keeping his arms folded, his tone firm. “We aren’t… we’re just coworkers.”

  Her gaze turned sour, and she looked at him with cold eyes. “You’re supposed to be by my side.” She looked away as if avoiding eye contact. “Did you forget your promise?” There was something in her tone—something raw and unguarded, lips trembling as if she was scared of his answer—that made him pause. Why does she care so much about what I think and what promise?

  He released his grip on her, letting her leave as she wanted. She didn’t leave immediately, clenching her jaw as if she was going to say more—presumably an excuse for why she thought he was supposed to back her up. But after a few moments, she instead turned and went back into the observation deck, rolling up her mat and stepping toward the viewing port. She pulled at a panel on the wall beneath the port that should have housed some electronics and wiring, revealing an empty cavity where a computer to help the observation deck run better should have been. Of course that's empty, he thought. The deck may only exist for Garrett to try to have romantic moments with the girls, but he's still cheap . What was surprising, though, was that Leonia had found it and been using it as her own personal storage. He thought he caught a glimpse of ration bars and some other odds and ends in the cavity before she blocked his view with the mat. She turned back to him. “Don't tell Garrett, this is my private little empire and I don't want him invading it.”

  She slipped the mat into the cavity, confirming his suspicion that she stored her gymnastics equipment on the observation deck—not a spot where he would have guessed, but a clever little hiding space. Then she pulled the panel back down, closing off the space and returning to her feet. She turned to him, gesturing to her leotard. “I need to get changed, pervert.”

  He turned, stepped out, and let the door hiss closed behind him to give her privacy. Did she actually want me to try peeking on my way out? he wondered. She may be angry, but she’s always craving attention . If she did want him to peek, it was too late now.

  She changed quickly because it was only a brief few moments before the door hissed open and she stepped out, wearing her usual baggy black outfit. The dim lights cast malevolent shadows down her pale face as she tore open an Eri-berry flavored ration bar and closed the door behind her.

  She lifted the bar as if offering him some the wrapper crinkling in the silence, but he shook his head no. Her favorite flavor, just let her enjoy it, he thought. She rolled her eyes before pushing her finger into the bar’s fruit flavored filling, lifting her finger to her mouth and slowly pulling it out, despite the insinuation of the act her eyes still burned, there was anger there, she hadn't completely forgiven him yet. “Suit yourself then, pervert.”

  She began eating the ration bar in a more normal manner as she turned and started disappearing down the hallway, stopping at the corner to take one last look at him before she disappeared around the corner. He watched her leave before he suddenly caught himself. How do I know what her favorite flavor of ration bar is? he wondered. Why, of all the thousands of things I forget every day, does that detail burn itself into my memory?

  For a moment, he stood there, staring at the empty hallway, feeling a strange tug in his chest. Maybe it’s because she’s always eating them , he thought. Or maybe I actually care about her interests . The realization unsettled him, and he quickly pushed it aside, turning back toward the observation deck. Focus on the mission , he told himself. That’s what matters.

  *************

  The door to the bridge hissed open, revealing a decently sized room that could comfortably fit the entire crew and then some. The bridge itself had a door on both the left and right, leading to the starboard and portside firing decks, while the back wall was lined with monitors and sensors. There were a total of three workstations set up in a triangle, each facing the large viewing port that took up the entire front of the room. In the rear, a seat surrounded by monitors and computers was designated for the captain to sit and work—not that Garrett actually used it much. At the front of the bridge, on both the starboard and portside, were the two piloting seats. The starboard side, on Garrett’s left, was generally occupied by Blitzer, while the portside, on Garrett’s right, was usually occupied by Blitzer’s twin sister, Blender. Her station was flanked by various small pieces of exercise equipment that she used in her downtime.

  “What did you find, Blitzer?” Garrett asked as he walked onto the bridge. But as he raised his gaze to the window before him, the answer became clear. The wreckage of another ship sprawled out before them in the distance. “...H-how old is it?”

  Blitzer looked down at a monitor, his green eyes darting up and down the screen. “According to the scans, it’s been drifting out here for less than a week… It suffered significant turbolaser fire.”

  “All the way out here? Why would pirates be out here? There’s nothing out here.” Garrett tried to make sense of it. The only people who should be out here are other subspace explorers and surveyors. Pirates wouldn’t waste their time in dead space.

  “Doesn’t look like pirates to me, Captain,” Blender said, her voice sounding almost exactly like Blitzer’s but with a feminine touch. Like her twin, she was quite tall, had emerald-green eyes and blonde hair, though hers was longer, almost shoulder-length, compared to his short buzz cut. She shared most of her features with him, as well as having a toned and muscled physique. She continued, “Pirates usually don’t outright destroy a ship. Makes it harder to steal cargo and treasure.”

  Blitzer countered his sister, “Unless they boarded, took what they wanted, and then kept blasting to leave no survivors.”

  Garrett collected his thoughts. “We need to board it, get a look inside. It might give us more information on what happened. After all, if there’s some pirate group plowing through dead space up here, that’s something we should probably know about.”

  Blitzer turned in his chair. “We don’t have a shuttle for an op like that.”

  “Just… pull up flush with it and attach. We’ll disembark once our spacesuits are set.” Garrett gave the order, already knowing Blitzer would protest.

  Blitzer’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re fuc—”

  Blender cut him off. “Aye-aye, Captain.” She pushed the controls forward to carry out the maneuver. Blitzer shot a look of betrayal at his sister before continuing. “It’s about the same size as we are and is floating. If we don’t time our impact just right, we’ll just send it careening off deeper into space.”

  Blender rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “Just get the maglocks ready and time it right, then.”

  Blitzer’s voice was icy. “Well, make sure you don’t do anything drastic and abrupt so that I can get it done.”

  “Skill issue,” Blender countered. The two words weren’t much, but they clearly agitated Blitzer.

  Garrett sat there awkwardly, wordless, feeling the tension between the twins as they piloted their way to the other ship. Why do they always have to turn everything into sibling drama? Blitzer kept cutting their speed, complaining that he needed Blender to slow down for the maglocks to work properly—and still disliking Garrett’s idea—only for Blender to accelerate again to carry out the orders. It made the journey unnecessarily long, as the minutes ticked by until it felt like the twins had managed to draw it out into a half-hour affair with their shenanigans.

  Garrett grabbed the PA and clicked it on. “So-mi, Gazrael, get some spacesuits prepped. We found something.” His whole body jerked forward as a loud, clanging groan reverberated through the Koiyokan’s entire hull. He glanced at Blender as she roughly “landed” on the wreckage. The ships were comparable in size, but she had collided quickly enough to knock him off his feet. The hull groaned like a dying rancor. Garrett’s teeth rattled as the maglocks scraped against the wreck, sparks cascading past the viewport.

  Blender turned red with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

  Blitzer shot her a smug look of vindication, his tone equally smug. “Just for the record, I was against this plan from the start.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes, speaking sarcastically. “Yes, yes, Blitzer, of mighty wisdom, your epoch will be told for ages to come.” The sarcasm dropped from his tone. “Shut up and start running scans, both of you.”

  Garrett turned to open the door and leave when Blender’s voice sparked up again. “Can I come with?”

  Garrett turned to her. “Why? You’re a pilot. You should be scanning like I ordered.”

  Blender looked flustered as she tried to come up with an excuse. Behind her, Garrett could see Blitzer gesturing for her to say no. She spoke, “Well, Captain, you uh… need four people.”

  “Need four people?”

  Her voice took on more confidence. “Yes, two teams of two: you, Gazrael, So-mi, and I. We’ll pick through the ship faster that way while having a safe buddy system.”

  Garrett responded quickly. There was sense in what she was saying—common sense, even—and they didn’t need two people to run scans. Blitzer could do that alone. “You’re right. Go get suited up.”

  Blitzer started to verbally protest, but Garrett stepped off the bridge and closed the door before he could finish. Garrett stood alone in the recreation room now, waiting a few moments before being joined by Blender as she went to retrieve her spacesuit, visibly flustered from arguing with her brother so much in the last half hour.

  She recovered quickly and took the lead as she started speaking. “So, what do you think the story is?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why we’re going down to investigate.”

  “Oh, come on, think about it. Turbolasers are big and hard to maintain—overkill for the kind of ships that do charting work.” There was a glee hidden in her voice as she theorized. “No pirates are gonna drag turbolasers around to hit ships like ours. They’d never make profits. We must have found something BIG.”

  Garrett knew her words were adding up, and finding something big was exactly what he was scared of. Something big that’s destroying smaller ships like this is exactly what I don’t want to find . He let her speculate to herself as they walked. She spouted theory after theory, and he didn’t want to entertain any of them: secret Separatist shipyard still operating decades after the CIS had fallen, deep-space pirates, a secret Imperial base, and bounty hunters working on the Hutts’ behalf. None of these theories comforted Garrett’s mind, and he found himself walking faster to cut the conversation as short as he could. S he’s too excited about this. Doesn’t she realize how dangerous this could be? She seemed to notice; generally, he tried to maximize the amount of time he spent alone around the women on board, so it was hard for her not to notice his unusually quick pace.

  They arrived in the cargo bay. The door hissed open to reveal So-mi and Gazrael already waiting for them and suited up. They had apparently already figured out the plan: the cargo lift in the middle of the bay would lower them directly onto the surface of the wreckage. So-mi was already fiddling with the controls, preparing to activate the airlock and lower the lift. Garrett and Blender suited up quickly, the pilot needing some help from Gazrael to get the suit on properly—this would be the first time she’d worn any of the onboard spacesuits.

  So-mi looked up as she continued fiddling with the controls, watching as Blender finished suiting up. “Why is she coming?” She pointed to Blender.

  Garrett replied shortly. “We need four people, and she asked.”

  So-mi shrugged and muttered, but just loud enough for him to hear. “God forbid we bring Jerec or Leonia.”

  “I need to lead. You know mechanics and are best suited to investigate their engineering bay. Gazrael…” He paused as he thought, trying to remember what Gazrael was even formally hired as. Was Gazrael supposed to be the security officer? He visibly shook his head, betraying his uncertainty to So-mi as he finished. “Gazrael has more experience than the rest of us.”

  So-mi rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask about Gazrael or myself. I asked about Blender. We’ve got Jerec and Leonia on board, who are both supposed to handle cargo. If we’re picking up anything while we’re down there, that would make more sense under their job descriptions. If something goes wrong, it would be optimal to have both pilots on the bridge.”

  Blender’s eyes flashed to So-mi, begging her to shut up and just keep it to herself, but she didn’t say anything in her own defense. Garrett felt annoyed as So-mi explained her point of view—and her point of view added up. She’s being very thorough with her thinking, except that she’s annoying me now. She's a mechanic, how about she shuts up and leaves the orders to me . He felt compelled to remind her who was actually in charge. “We’re taking Blender. She asked nicely. Let’s get it done already.”

  The four of them then took their places on the lift, one in each corner. Blender moved a bit awkwardly, as if she expected to suddenly be replaced by Jerec. Garrett nodded at So-mi to hit it, and there was a loud vacuum noise as the vents began draining every bit of breathable air in the cargo bay. Then, the cargo bay doors started slowly grinding open, and with a lurch, their descent began. The lift dropped abruptly. Gazrael and So-mi hadn’t been briefed; they had just known they’d be using the lift to reach whatever Garrett wanted to board. As the hangar door slid open, revealing the wreckage beneath them, both their eyes grew wide with disbelief and a slight tinge of fear as they took in the sight of the wreckage.

  “What the fuck?” Gazrael muttered the question, but it came in loud and clear through their comms.

  Blitzer’s voice came in over the comms. “Having a hard time with the scans. I’m afraid you’re going in blind. I suspect comms will be shaky too. There’s some kind of interference; I can’t figure out what it is.”

  Garrett responded as the lift began to lower them down. “Thank you, Blitzer. Do your best to keep us updated.”

  The silence of dead space weighed on them oppressively, almost enough to make them physically slouch as they descended. The sight was beautiful: stars and nebulae stretched out in every direction, a menagerie of vibrant, bright colors painted across utter darkness—a sight you couldn’t have viewed from any point on the galactic plane. But it was also an ever-present reminder in the back of their heads of their insignificance: small, pathetic things gripping small, pathetic safety rails to hide from a universe so expansive that their minds likely couldn’t comprehend the full scope of it—a universe that couldn’t care about them even if it were capable of acknowledging them.

  ********

  The lift, being an old machine, jerked and ground. They couldn’t hear it—sound didn’t travel in the vacuum of space—but they could feel it. It seemed to threaten at any moment to buck one of them off into the unending void. There’s no one to save us this far out, So-mi thought, her grip tightening on the rail. No one to hear us if we scream. No one who would ever learn our fate. They were at the whims of an uncaring strand of destiny. The descent wasn’t long—only about four floors down to where the bottom level of the Koiyokan’s front section and engine made contact with the mysterious wreck—but every second felt like an hour with the tension and creeping anxiety as thick as it was.

  The lift jerked as it touched down on the wreckage. If not for the vacuum of space, it likely would have made a loud clang. The absence of a noise they had all grown to expect only further eroded the thoughts at the back of their minds. The four activated their mag boots to hold onto the surface of the wreckage as they stepped away from the small promise of safety provided by the lift’s safety rails. These boots are our only defense now, Blender thought, glancing down at her feet. One wrong step, and we’re drifting forever. The hull of the wreckage was utterly sundered, the twisted, melted metal no longer resembling anything close to the ship’s armor it was supposed to be. Finding a hole in the hull to enter the wreckage was quick—the remains of the ship were riddled with them, after all—and a suitably large hole to crawl through was easy to find. But to their chagrin, the wreck’s artificial gravity was long gone, forcing them to rely on their mag boots to enter and orient themselves with what they assumed was the intended floor of the vessel.

  So-mi looked around, studying the walls and paneling, and spoke up. “I don’t recognize this class of vessel, but… the design principle seems pretty typical for a Kuati design. Some kind of blockade runner, I reckon. The bridge should be up there,” she gestured one way, “and the engineering bay down there,” she gestured in the opposite direction.

  “Coulda told you that from looking at the thing from the outside as we descended,” Gazrael commented passive-aggressively.

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me that, did you? So, fuck off.”

  “Cut it out, both of you,” Garrett cut in before nodding to So-mi. “I’ll take Gazrael to the bridge; you take Blender to the engineering bay.” He had originally planned on taking Blender to the bridge, where her piloting expertise would be most useful, but now Gazrael and So-mi’s spat was forcing him to change his plans.

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  Blender looked like she was about to protest but kept the thoughts to herself, following So-mi as she left in the indicated direction, letting the Pantoran take the lead. Why not take me to the bridge? Just let them argue. she thought bitterly. The inside of the wreck was as disheveled and blown out as the exterior. Wires drifted loosely, illuminating the hallways in brief intervals with the sparks they shot out, casting unwanted jagged shadows in every direction. Doors were almost blown off their frames or bent into inoperable shapes. They found the first of the ship’s crew, heavily deteriorated by the effects of the vacuum of space, impaled on a pipe that jutted out of the wall. A little further down, they found their second corpse, crushed under a door that now prevented it from floating away. The walk to the engineering bay wasn’t long, but it felt like a taxing journey in the dark atmosphere on board. The utter dead silence weighed on them, feeling unnatural—no groans from the ship’s hull as it contorted through space, no zaps or hisses from the loose wiring. So-mi’s breath echoed in her helmet, loud and ragged. She’d never noticed how her own heartbeat could sound like a drumline.

  So-mi hoped the ship’s main terminal in engineering would be of use in gathering information, but as they entered the engineering bay, she could already see it was completely fried. Above them was a massive hole in the ship’s hull. If I had to guess , she thought, a turbolaser punctured the hull, followed by an ion blast that lined up just right to completely fry the terminal . Still, she crossed the room to the terminal, batting floating debris out of her way, and tried banging on the buttons and knobs anyway, hoping it might do something—but to no avail.

  Blender didn’t follow; instead, she moved to examine some paneling on the wall. I don’t even know what I’m looking at , Blender admitted to herself. But I know enough to say none of this is worth salvaging . She scowled as she found their third void scarred corpse, carrying a clear burn from fire. “At least we know one thing—this wasn’t pirates.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Pirates take valuables, nothing looks torn out for salvage or selling” Blender’s helmet tilted toward a sparking console. “This was a slaughter.”

  “How comforting, let me add ‘get slaughtered’ to my calendar.” There was a tense silence before So-mi spoke again. “Man, they really did a number on the engines,” So-mi commented almost absentmindedly. It was an observation of the obvious, but hearing her own voice made the atmosphere feel less oppressive.

  Blender, still idly looking over different tools and parts, replied, “Anything worth salvaging?” She already knew the answer was no, but she also felt a small comfort in breaking the silence. Conversation might help distract me from this eerie, disheveled charnel house, she thought.

  So-mi glanced around to see if she could spot a single thing in the room that wasn’t damaged irreparably. There were some tools floating around, but she already had those types of tools back on the Koiyokan, and none of them were exactly valuable—not even tech tools, just normal old manual screwdrivers and similar implements. “Not unless you need a wrench.”

  There was mild amusement in Blender’s voice, starkly contrasting everything else So-mi had experienced since the Koiyokan’s cargo bay had opened. “I could beat Blitzer over the head with it the next time he tries to act like my big brother.”

  “He isn’t your big brother?”

  “Well, he is, but only by like five minutes, though I suppose he came out 20 years bossier. It’s always been an issue, though—him trying to act like my big brother. I consider myself adventurous, and he calls it reckless. I tell him he’s too cautious and needs to lighten up, and he tells me that he’s actually just being rational.” She paused for a second. I’m oversharing , she realized. So-mi didn’t ask about our sibling dynamics . But she didn’t stop. She was talking just to keep her thoughts off the room around them. She followed the response with a sigh and continued, “But we’ve never really been apart, and I don’t want that to change. He does try to keep me out of trouble, after all.”

  A smirk crept onto So-mi’s lips. The conversation was also helping to purge the dark thoughts at the back of her mind. “Oh, I see… that sounds pretty irritating. I’m an only child.” She giggled, her awkward, untimely giggle. “Every time I hear people talk about siblings, it’s never what I imagined having a sibling would be like.” She deftly reached out and grabbed the wrench, offering it to Blender with a quick, smooth motion. “You do sound like you could use this, though.”

  Blender took the wrench, but the warmth the short chit-chat had brought to her vanished as she looked around the room with a futile, helpless expression, her attention pulled back to the blaster scarred corpse. “Captain should have taken me to the bridge and had Gazrael stick with you. At least I’d know what I was looking at up there. I don’t even know what half this shit does.”

  “Well, if you’re planning on staying in the piloting business, I’d suggest refreshing yourself on some of the basics of how a ship actually works,” So-mi remarked. Blender didn’t respond, just scowling as she now removed a panel from the wall, searching to see what secrets it hid. The oppressive silence returned, and with it, desperate, anxious thoughts started whispering at the back of So-mi’s mind.

  So-mi tried to restart the short chit-chat. “I’m glad you’re here with me. You’re much better than Gazrael, especially when he’s being a passive-aggressive asshole.”

  Blender turned to hide her slight blush from the words and tried to harden her voice to sound confrontational. “You didn’t want me to come along; you wanted Jerec, remember?”

  “Well… I was just thinking… practically. It wasn’t personal.” So-mi’s voice was faltering even as she extended her hand weakly. Please, I promise it wasn’t personal , she thought. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks… I appreciate it,” Blender’s voice was weak, as if she was uncertain how to reply, but sincere. “You weren’t wrong. I don’t exactly add anything Jerec or Leonia couldn’t have.”

  So-mi giggled. “You have more technical know-how.”

  Blender gestured to the door, not turning to look, avoiding reminding herself their way out was a spark filled charnel house, before kicking a floating spanner aside. “For the OTHER part of the ship.”

  So-mi shrugged. “It’s more than Jerec has.”

  “And Leonia?”

  So-mi shook her head, batting away some debris that was floating too close. “Right, like little Miss Princess would mess up her hair crawling through this.”

  Blender shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to Garrett trying to keep his little princess close, especially somewhere and private.”

  So-mi stopped and looked at her. “Leonia?”

  “Yeah. He’s always trying to spend time with her privately,” Blender answered before seeing So-mi’s look of confusion. “You never noticed?”

  So-mi’s look of confusion turned to one of contemplation. “I thought you and Garrett were… well, he takes you aside for private moments a lot.”

  Blender paused. He does act like he’s interested in me , she thought, but it’s nothing compared to how he tries to keep Leonia at his side. “I guess, but no, we’re not together. Like I said, Leonia's his little princess.”

  With that, So-mi fell into her own thoughts, barely thinking about the macabre scene around her as she dove through her memories on board the Koiyokan, looking through them. A few more minutes passed before So-mi suddenly returned to the situation at hand and vented aloud, “Waste of our damn time. There’s nothing useful in…” She cut herself off as she saw a datapad stuck in the corner of the ceiling, its screen lit up. She’d need to turn off her mag boots to ascend up to it, not seeing a clear path free of debris and holes that she could walk up the side wall with her boots, but it was something for their troubles, at least. She started looking for the most optimal part of the room she could launch herself from once she disabled her mag boots, took her position, and pointed it out to Blender. “THAT might be worthwhile.”

  Blender turned to look at the datapad and then nodded in agreement. “Let’s get to it, then.”

  ***********

  Blitzer sat alone on the bridge, bathed in green light from his monitors and surrounded by gentle beeps and whirrings, his hands scrambling over buttons and knobs. What the fuck is going on? he thought, frustration mounting as the comms remained silent.

  The door hissed open behind him, and he braced himself, expecting Leonia to barge in uninvited. She’s not allowed on the bridge , he reminded himself, but luckily, it was Jerec.

  “Hey, uh, I kinda don’t have anything to do. Did you need help with something?” Jerec asked, his voice calm and earnest.

  Blitzer glanced at him, his tone sharp. “Don’t you never have anything to do?”

  “Well, yeah, but now you’re the only person I can ask to help.” Jerec paused before continuing. “You just need someone to read the sensors, right? I can read.”

  Blitzer smirked. “Thanks for the reminder. I forget you can sometimes.”

  The joke seemed to go over Jerec’s head—or maybe he was just choosing to ignore it. Jerec walked over to one of the sensor panels, examining it closely. “Wow, comms are facing some pretty bad interference.”

  Blitzer scowled but tried not to be rude. “Yes, thank you. I already knew that, though… from trying to talk on the comms.”

  He returned his attention to the comms as Jerec continued to look over different monitors. “Bridge to Blender, over.” Silence. The lack of response made his stomach twist. Where the hell is she?

  “Bridge to Blender, over.” Again, silence. A slight tinge of worry started to eat at his gut. This isn’t like her.

  “Bridge to Blender, over… Sara, come in.”

  Jerec turned to look at him, confusion written on his face. “Who’s Sara?”

  Blitzer didn’t turn to address him as he answered. “It’s Blender’s real name… Don’t call her Sara, though. She hasn’t liked being called that since Endor.”

  “Why?”

  The explanation was simple, but it felt complicated to put into words. How do I explain this without making it sound stupid? “Her boyfriend was flying for the Rebellion at Endor and his ass crashed into a Star Destroyer. Now she likes being called by what he called her.”

  Jerec looked even more confused. “He called her Blender?”

  Blitzer’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Don’t ask. I always thought it was a stupid name, but she’s my sister, and she’ll try to strangle me if I call her Sara now.”

  He took a moment before activating the comms again. “Bridge to Blender. Over.”

  Jerec returned his attention to the monitors. “There’s nothing on the radar.”

  This time, Blitzer turned to him, his brow furrowed. “Why would there be anything on the radar?”

  “If something was signal jamming us, they’d need a line of sight on us… but we’re alone out here.” Jerec responded nonchalantly. “There’s no radiation signal either.”

  Blitzer’s face fell into his palm. Why didn’t I think of that? Signal jamming was the most obvious answer to their comms issues. He double-checked the radar for himself, confirming Jerec’s observation. Nothing. No ships, no signals, no radiation. What the hell is going on?

  “That doesn’t add up. How can we get a signal jam from an unseen source?” Blitzer started reexamining the monitors, as if an answer would suddenly emerge.

  “Maybe the source is still here, and we just don’t see it… They could be invisible?” Jerec asked, his voice carrying a naive tone. Usually, he had a stern way of talking that concealed his kindness, but now he sounded almost hopeful.

  Blitzer shook his head. Invisible? Really? “That’s not how radar works. It would still pick them up. They’d need a stealth ship that could block all of our sensors—radiation, electronic readings, even life form signatures. That’s expensive tech, and a lot of it.”

  “Well, it’s a possibility, isn’t it?” Jerec inquired.

  “Possibility? Yes, but that begs the question of why they’d destroy that ship and not ours. The Koiyokan in’t exactly in the right condition for a fight, and they’d be coming at us with the element of surprise. Jamming signals on a craft like this would be a waste of time for a ship that expensive and kitted out.” Blitzer scratched his chin as he finished the explanation, then shook his head to confirm his own thoughts. It’s unlikely a stealth ship would be tailing us all the way out here. But that still left the question: What’s causing the interference?

  He fiddled with the comms again. “Bridge to Blender. Over.”

  The eerie silence was his only response once again. He vented his frustration out loud. “I should be down there with her.”

  Jerec looked at him again. “Blender?”

  Blitzer rolled his eyes, his retort dripping with sarcasm. “No, my invisible sister Myrkyr, who you’ve never heard of before.” His voice straightened as he continued. “Yeah, obviously I mean Blender.”

  Jerec still tried not to let Blitzer’s rude remarks bring down his good mood. It’s such a rare treasure on the Koiyokan to have a good mood, he thought. The others assumed he was just stupid, but Jerec liked to think of himself as naively hopeful instead. If I’m stupid, then that means being angry and rude to each other is the smart thing to do, and that doesn’t seem very smart to me. He’d already lost his temper with Leonia today, and that was more than enough negativity in his day. I’d rather be happy and content.

  He tried again to be helpful despite Blitzer’s poor attitude. “Wouldn’t it make sense to hail someone besides Blender instead? Like the captain? You know, to make sure it’s not just Blender’s suit that’s having an issue?”

  Blitzer rolled his eyes dismissively. “Just because I’m mentioning Blender by name doesn’t mean I’m not trying to hail all four of them. I’m not an amateur.”

  “I’m certainly not convinced of that.” A third voice cut into the conversation. Blitzer spun in his chair to confront the newcomer. Of course, it’s her. “You know Garrett doesn’t like you being on the bridge, Leonia.”

  Leonia responded by checking her nails, as if that alone dismissed all of his concerns. She walked over to the comms and spoke mockingly. “This is Moff Leonia to Captain Creepoid. Repeat, this is Moff Leonia to Captain Creepoid.”

  “Moff Leonia?” Jerec asked, clearly confused.

  Leonia beamed at him, speaking with self-aggrandizing gusto. “Don’t worry about that peasant, the moff is speaking.”

  Blitzer rolled his eyes and turned to her. She’s insufferable. “Yeah, ok, go ahead and play pretend like a 6 year old.”

  Leonia glared at Blitzer for that remark before hitting the button on the comms again. “Creepokan to Captain Creepoid again. Don’t get too handsy with Blender now.”

  Blitzer pushed her away from the comms. “And what the hell is this ‘Captain Creepoid’ business?”

  Leonia stuck her hand out again to check her nails. “Because the captain is a creep. It’s very simple wordplay. He’s probably creeping on your sister right now.”

  “Oh if he wanted to get handsy he'd just take you along.” Blitzer smirked as he saw Leonia start turning red, got her . “Face it, ‘Moff’—Garrett’s got you wrapped around his finger. Why else’s he always dragging you off for private performances*?”

  Leonia’s eyes flicked to the bridge’s monitors, where Blender’s empty seat glared back. “Funny from what I heard your sister was just begging to go with him. Does she always beg to follow him into dark corners?”

  Blitzer’s grin faltered. “Keep my sister out of your mouth.”

  “Why? Scared she’ll like it?” She bared her teeth.

  “Blitzer snapped. “At least Blender’s got a real job on this ship. What’re you here for, besides warming his bunk?”

  “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” Her eyes were intense, her voice low and threatening. “You never notice how much he tries to be alone with So-mi and Blender?”

  “I noticed that he seems to really like you and the way you act around him. ‘Oh, Captain, you’re so strong. Oh, Captain, I have such pretty violet eyes.’” He shot back at her smugly, particularly proud of his impression of her.

  “I will pull your spleen out through your anus if you don’t shut up.” Leonia snarled, the calm and silence of the threat making it feel more serious than her usual aggressive shouts. “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

  Blitzer smirked at her anger. She’s so easy to rile up . “Okay, then you’re not his darling gal, and you don’t like him. What do you dance and flaunt around for him for, then? Are you actually his private whore, entertaining him for money?”

  The response he got was her fist in his jaw as she lunged over the comms for the attack. “I’M NOT A WHORE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

  The attack didn’t last long. Jerec was quick to pick her up and pry her away, though she was too busy trying to lash out at Blitzer to notice she was slipping further and further out of reach.

  “YES, BOTH OF YOU OUT NOW!” Blitzer cupped his jaw as he shouted, the pain sharp and throbbing. S he punched me harder than I thought she was capable of. A little harder, and he was certain she would have broken his jaw.

  ***********

  The scene in the wreck wasn’t any more promising for Gazrael and Garrett than it had been for So-mi and Blender. Like the other pair, they had to navigate dark hallways illuminated only by the flashlights on their helmets and the occasional sparks shooting from loose wires. As they moved forward, they noticed less obvious damage to the hull, suggesting that this ship had been fleeing from whatever had been shooting at it. They also found macabre corpses—one with a blaster in its own mouth that laid in front of their path, another that seemed to have been trying to repair the ship’s power lines before falling into live wires during the chaos of the chase. Gazrael stepped over the corpse, its frozen grip still clutching the blaster, seeming unfazed by the macabre sight. People die on these missions sometimes, it's why I have a job. But both sights were enough to make Garrett sick to his stomach, Garrett’s breath echoed loudly in his helmet, each exhale fogging the visor. The absence of sound made every creak of the hull reverberate in his skull—or was that his pulse?

  It’s a shame So-mi didn’t convince Garrett to bring Leonia instead of Blender, Gazrael mused. Leonia would’ve insisted on being paired with me, and she’d be much better company than Garrett. The way the shadows and bursts of sparks dance would’ve complemented her style of beauty splendidly. He stopped abruptly, causing Garrett to bump into him. Why am I thinking about her? There’s no reason to think of her right now. He did his best to purge her from his mind.

  “Gahh!” Garrett cried as he collided with Gazrael’s back. “What is it? Why aren’t we moving?”

  “Nothing… thought I saw something… just he shadows,” Gazrael lied. Garrett bought it without question.

  “Well, keep moving. I don’t want to be here all day.”

  They pressed forward through the jagged shadows cast by sparking cords and live wires, eventually finding a small staircase that led up to the bridge. They ascended the stairs until they reached the door at the top. It wouldn’t open automatically due to the power failure, but it was already slightly ajar.

  “Well, that’s just great,” Garrett muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. “Like we needed this excursion to take any longer.”

  Gazrael didn’t reply. Instead, he headed back down the stairs to look for something to wedge the door open. He returned with what was probably a casing for a power unit at some point, wedging it under the door. Together, they worked to pry the door further open, creating a crawl space large enough for them to fit through one at a time in their space suits. Even with the two of them and the leverage of the object, it was still difficult to open. The lack of atmosphere made it even harder to pry the door open than it would have been in a pressurized environment. If it weren’t for the vacuum of space, they were certain they would have heard their mag boots screeching and squealing, threatening to break and leave them floating through the wreck before the door would budge.

  “That’s the hardest I’ve ever seen you work,” Garrett remarked as they finished, reaching up to wipe the sweat off his brow. His hand collided with his helmet. “Oh, great. I can’t even wipe myself off in this thing.”

  Gazrael ignored the jab about his work ethic. Yeah, and you’re gonna pay me the same anyways. Instead, he prepared to crawl through the entryway they had created. Let him be the one delaying us now.

  The scene inside the bridge wasn’t any less eerie than the rest of the ship. There were no corpses—presumably, the pilots had tried to make a run for the escape pods, not that it would have done them much good this far above the galactic plane. The poor lighting and dancing shadows were now paired with claustrophobia, as the bridge was just a bit too small for comfort in their space suits. It was a small bridge, built for only two co-pilots and no other staff. While there were only two of them, the oxygen packs on their suits made each of them take up significantly more room. The bridge also seemed to lack any hull damage and was the only part of the ship that might have remained airtight—or at least, it could have been, had the door not been left ajar. If the pilots really did run for the escape pods, they may have doomed themselves in the process, Gazrael thought.

  He stepped forward in the cramped space, trying to check the piloting computer, but the machine seemed completely dead from lack of power. Instead, he reached to see if it had a physically stored memory bank he could take with them. After some fiddling, he found the port where a memory bank should have been located, but there was none present. Great. Instead of answering questions, we’ve got more of them now. He scowled, feeling the dancing shadows in the ship mock him. If there were enough air for sound to travel, the groans of the twisted hull would probably sound like sinister laughter.

  Luckily, Garrett’s quick search of the room seemed more fruitful. He held a small black box protectively, like a treasure. Seeing the action, Gazrael asked, “Is that what it looks like?”

  Garrett nodded. “New Republic tracking box. They hand these out to subspace exploration crews. It’s still live, meaning the New Republic is still getting updates on this ship’s location.” He examined the box for more clues and cocked an eyebrow. “Murrietta Base, mission 174, ship 6.”

  “Is that supposed to mean anything?” Gazrael asked. His attention wasn’t really on Garrett or the box; he was still scanning the bridge for something useful when his eyes caught a brief glimmer of something.

  Garrett rolled his eyes as if the question were stupid. “Well, the box on our ship would be marked ‘Murrietta Base, mission 174, ship 5.’ They were contracted for the same job as we are. Do any of you guys pay attention during briefings?”

  “But we left Murrietta alone?” Gazrael asked, as if there were some holes in Garrett’s story. He reached for the glimmering object and found an unopened package for a ration bar. He turned it in his hands, revealing it was eri-berry flavored. Just like that, Leonia’s in my head again , he thought. The eri-berry wrapper glinted like her silver-streaked hair—another rebellion against the void, pulling him back seeing her offer him a bar before saying ‘suit yourself’.

  “True, but that’s because we arrived late,” Garrett explained, hesitating as if he’d just made a big mistake. He was unaware that Gazrael’s attention wasn’t on him. “They’d almost recontracted our position to a different crew by the time we docked at Murrietta… I didn’t tell the crew about that. Could you keep that part secret?” He paused, then continued, “Anyways, it’s not unusual for ships contracted to the same job to leave weeks apart in this line of work. They generally don’t communicate; they just need to chart their findings and come back in one piece.”

  Gazrael didn’t answer the question, letting it hang as he shook Leonia out of his thoughts again trying to think over what Garrett had just said, responding only to the half he'd actually caught. Instead, he asked, “What kind of data will be on the box?”

  “About every five minutes, the box pings Murrietta Base with the ship’s current relative position. It allows the New Republic to track all contractors in case we transmit for help, so they can dispatch assistance directly to our coordinates. Think of it like the ship’s normal black box, but it only transmits data to the New Republic—a backup black box. It’s a helpful tool, given how big space is.” Garrett’s tone darkened as his explanation begged a new question, which he asked aloud. “So where was the New Republic to help this ship?” He glanced around as if the windows or walls would carry an obvious answer, but of course, there was nothing to be found.

  “Can we get the data on this ship’s course off of it?” Gazrael asked. He began fumbling with his space suit, looking for a pocket to put the ration bar into before stopping. What the hell is wrong with you? Focus on the task at hand. He let go of the ration bar, letting it drift away as he tried to focus. Leonia can get her own snacks. Stop thinking about Leonia.

  “Yes, it should be pretty easy. Just plug it into any other device, and all the data should come right up. They’re usually not encrypted or given much security.”

  Gazrael glanced around one last time for anything else that stood out but found nothing. “Anywhere else on the ship you want to poke around, captain?”

  “We could try to find the ship’s main black box, but it won’t tell us anything this one can’t.”

  *************

  So-mi hated zero gravity. It made her feel weightless and out of control, like she was floating in a void with no anchor. Taking the datapad and then returning to a surface where her mag boots were actually operable had been harder than she’d expected. Every movement was a struggle, and the mag boots only made it worse—clunky and unreliable. Eventually, Blender had to hold out her hands, rooting them both to the ground with her mag boots long enough for So-mi to finally touch the floor and activate her own.

  The datapad’s dying light bathed So-mi’s face in ghostly blue. Last entry: 3 days before the attack. She swiped faster, sparks casting jagged shadows over the text. Not optimal, but she could make it work for now. We can charge it back on the Koiyokan. she thought, Her fingers flew across the screen as she opened and scrolled through as much data as she could before the battery died. She wasn’t finding much useful—it was a journal, but whoever wrote it hadn’t updated it on the day their ship was hit. Still, she noted that this ship had also been contracted by Murrietta, probably for the same job they were running. Great , she thought. Another dead end.

  She continued swiping through the datapad. The author thought two other crew members were having an affair, complained about needing to exercise more, and mentioned starting a diet. Might be a juicy drama if anyone on the ship was still alive, she mused, but it’s not exactly helpful .

  As the datapad’s light died, the shadows seemed to thicken. The battery was completely drained now. I didn’t get through all of it, she thought with a sigh. I’ll need to give it another look later .

  Blender was still examining random panels along the wall but noticed the room growing dimmer. She turned to So-mi. “Find anything worthwhile?”

  So-mi waved the dead datapad. “Apparently Kyp Durron and Setsi Kan were cozy. Shame they’re now frozen cozy.”

  Blender rolled her eyes. “Is Kyp the one that got crushed under the door or the one that got impaled on a pipe?”

  “I bet 30 credits on the door,” So-mi said, relieved that the conversation had lightened the mood again.

  “Fair enough,” Blender replied with a smirk. “Can’t lose money on a bet no one can verify.” She returned her gaze to the panel on the wall. “Is that important?”

  So-mi glanced at the panel and smirked. “Used to control their air conditioning. Won’t do them much good, a little chill is the least of their problems.”

  “Well, unless we want to share their breathing-related issues, we should get going,” Blender said, turning toward the doorway. The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner I can do… anything else. She tapped her comlink. “Blender to Captain, come in.”

  There was a moment of silence before So-mi spoke up. “Are we on the right frequency?”

  Blender double-checked. “We should be connected to the Captain, Gazrael, and the bridge… but we haven’t heard anything from anybody.” How did I not notice that sooner, shit.

  So-mi spun around toward the wreck’s bridge, her heart skipping a beat. Do you think something happened to them? she thought, though she didn’t voice the question aloud.

  Blender shook her head, as if reading her mind. “No. Blitzer said on our way down there was interference… I just don’t get how our comms with each other are open but not our comms with the others.”She paused for a moment, thinking. This doesn’t feel right . The silence stretched between them, heavy and unnerving. So-mi’s eyes met Blender’s, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The thought hung in the air, unspoken but clear: something was wrong . So-mi’s flashlight flickered. Across the room, a sparking wire cast jagged shadows that looked like claw marks.Their helmets tilted in unison—a silent agreement. “We need to get out. Now ,” Blender hissed, the static-laced comms sharp as a vibroblade.