Wreckers: A Denver Boyd Novel George Ellis (book series for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

For a big guy, he sure did whine a lot. In fact, his whining had gotten worse since he came aboard. I couldn’t decide if that was him softening to a more laid-back environment or just being really picky about his food intake.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten so many,” I said. “I haven’t had one in days.”

“The soda is also running low. Looks like we’ll have to stop for supplies before we get to Jasper,” Edgar said, as if it were a foregone conclusion.

“Uh, no, I don’t think we do,” I replied.

Batista turned toward me from her co-pilot chair, where she’d been reading the news on her handheld. She frowned.

“You too?” I asked.

“Pretty hard to maneuver properly without fuel,” she said, noting the low reserves. We had enough to get to Jasper, but it would be tight.

It didn’t help that we were getting on each other’s nerves. I could count on one hand the number of times we’d been in the same room together in the two days since the airlock incident. And it wasn’t like we were a well-oiled machine to begin with.

“We need a break from each other,” Edgar said, as if reading my mind. “I don’t care where, as long as it’s got a fun zone.”

“Fun zone? What are you suggesting, an amusement park?” I cracked.

Apparently, no, he just meant a place to decompress. Preferably with companions and/or a casino. That was his idea of a fun zone.

I turned to Batista to get her take. “What about you? Are you also in the mood for fun zones?”

“The guy’s right, Denver. We need supplies and I need to not look at you for a while, otherwise I might give in to the urge to punch you in the face, regardless of what Desmond might think about it.”

“Then where?” I asked.

“Hey, you’re the captain. That’s up to you,” Batista said with mock-cheer. She then put on headphones and turned on the news on her handheld. I looked back at Edgar, who was hovering over me like a petulant child.

Fun zones. We were about to rob one of the most dangerous ships in the verse, and this dude was thinking about fun zones. I called up the map on my monitor and took a look. There were four potential options between us and Jasper Station.

The first two were known federation haunts and I immediately ruled those out. Of the two remaining stations, I’d never been to one. And the other? I chuckled to myself as my stomach grumbled.

“What’s so damn funny?” Edgar asked me.

“My stomach just decided where we’re stopping,” I replied.

Chapter 14

Moon 12 wasn’t a moon at all. It was a station that had been created by fusing together a dozen ships. Some had been federation, some private. They were purchased by Aldo Jones, a wealthy trade merchant who decided it would be quicker and cheaper to building-block a station than construct one from scratch. He was right.

The result, commonly known as M12, was a technological mashup unlike anything else in the galaxy. The various quadrants (ships) were linked together by heavily guarded walkways. Each quadrant served a different function. An old fed warbird was converted into a hotel. A leisure cruiser was transformed into a casino. And so on. Nine of the 12 quads were open to the public. The remaining three were reserved for the rich and famous.

With a 3,000-credit bounty on the Stang — it had tripled since the incident with Admiral Slay and the Burnett — I normally would have steered clear of a well-traveled destination like M12. But, Edgar had managed to mask our call sign and drive signature, meaning the only way to tell this was the Stang was a visual ID. As unique as my ship was with its sleek chrome plating and dual turbines, you still had to know what you were looking for to report us to the feds. The warrant was out and surely some people at M12 would be doing just that, but I knew a nice secluded spot to park.

And it was worth the risk.

Not just for the food and fuel, although we badly needed those. It had been three days since Batista and Edgar walked out of the airlock, and they were right – we needed the time apart. Things had cooled down immediately following Desmond’s intervention, but the growing sense of dread of going up against the Rox had gotten to all of us, even Edgar. It didn’t help that he’d been binge-watching Six Feet Under, so he was just in a dour mood all the time, constantly making references to death and the afterlife.

Whatever rapport Batista and I had built up in the first leg of our journey had been decimated by her lies about Avery. And there was that whole matter of me threatening to space her. I was prepared to go the stretch run and try not to stop for supplies until Jasper Station, but Edgar had done the math and it didn’t work in our favor. We would have had to cut rations to 15% of their usual levels just to make it to the scene of the fight.

So he had suggested a few modifications to the Stang to change its drive signature just enough to confuse anybody who wasn’t looking too closely. I’d heard of other ships doing things like that, but it was a delicate process because it involved literally changing how your vessel’s propulsion system operated. Edgar did it in about three hours, and afterward, I actually noticed the Stang was running a little faster and more efficiently than usual. I did not mention this to Edgar, as I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He probably knew, anyway.

Just about the only one who wasn’t miserable was Gary. He seemed to revel in the tense environment of the ship. One minute he was snarking at me, the next he was joking with Batista or Edgar. It had been a while since he’d had an audience,