“In planting a bomb that was meant to keep us from entering the Flow. Once we do that we’re pretty sure the pirates are going to hail us and discuss their terms.”

“What’s the second thing?” Marce asked.

“Well,” Pinton said. “Have you noticed that you and Chat here are roughly the same size and coloration?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, I have.”

* * *

The fake bomb “went off” a half hour later, and the Yes, Sir sent a general unencrypted distress call toward Imperial Station to let it know of its predicament. The idea would be to make the station aware an event happened and that the station should prep rescue and retrieval efforts, to be deployed if and when the Yes, Sir followed up with an even more dire distress call. The drawback was that even the fastest imperial cutters would be more than a day out. The Yes, Sir was alone, save for the one small ship trailing it, now only a few hours out from intercept.

Which hailed the Yes, Sir, as expected, shortly after the distress call went out.

“Free freighter Red Rose, hailing Yes, Sir, That’s My Baby,” the hail said. Marce heard it on the bridge, where he and Kiva Lagos stood in a corner, staying out of the way but needing to hear what happened next.

“Lagos fiver Yes, Sir, That’s My Baby, responding,” said Drean Musann, Yes, Sir’s communications officer.

“We understand you’re experiencing an event. Permission to come aside and assist.”

“The captain thanks you for your willingness to assist but says no assistance is required at this time. Please maintain current distance.”

“We are concerned that should a further event occur we would not be able to properly assist. Moving to come alongside.”

“Red Rose, the captain once again thanks you but wishes to inform you that our concern for the well-being of your ship in the event of a further incident compels us to again request you maintain your current distance.”

“We thank your captain for the concern, but feel the risk is worth taking. Moving to assist.”

“That’s enough foreplay,” Blinnikka said to Musann.

“Yes, sir,” Musann said, then turned back to her console. “Red Rose, Captain Blinnikka formally requests we cut the shit and just get to it.”

There was a pause. “Copy that,” came the response, a moment later. “Please stand by.”

Blinnikka turned to Kiva Lagos. “How are we on preparations?”

“Busy as the proverbial fucking bee,” Kiva said.

Blinnikka nodded, glanced at Marce, and then turned his attention back to his command screen.

In spite of everything, Marce was thrilled. It was his first time on a command deck of any sort, and the calm professionalism of the Yes, Sir bridge crew in the face of what could reasonably be considered enemy action was inspiring. These were good people, Marce decided. Except possibly for Kiva Lagos. He hadn’t quite gotten a bead on her yet.