“It’s possible, but unlikely. Most do not, after all.”
I nodded, thinking it through. We’d seen how fragments grew—matter collected around little pinprick weaknesses between dimensions, eventually forming into these landscapes. I didn’t know for certain if that matter slipped in from the somewhere or was just replicated here. Did this mean…the caverns of Detritus had formed because bits of rock had slipped into the nowhere?
There was no way to tell right now. But either way, it did seem Chet was right about the portals not being on most fragments. Maybe those only formed on fragments where the holes between dimensions were “big” enough that cytonics could get through?
Well, for now I needed to keep my mind on stealing a ship. Of the three hangars, two were dark at the moment. The third—the one in the center—had its bay door open wide, and flashes of light inside indicated welding or electrical work going on. I was surprised to see electricity at first—but most modern starfighters had energy-packed power matrixes that could last years. Plug one of those in, and you’d be able to power the lights and equipment of a hangar like this.
“My sensors indicate two people keeping watch,” M-Bot whispered from where he hovered at my side. “One at the window directly ahead in the lit hangar. Another right inside the bay doors. If they’re using electronic surveillance, it’s wired, as I don’t detect broadcasts on any known frequencies.”
“They won’t broadcast carelessly, abomination,” Chet whispered. “Old habits will prevent them.”
“Noted, wart-eyeball,” M-Bot said.
We sat in silence for a moment.
“Okay,” Chet whispered. “I…I have to ask. ‘Wart-eyeball’？”
“I was going to call you wart-face,” M-Bot said, “as humans often append ‘face’ to insults, but warts are frequently on faces. I instead picked a body part that doesn’t usually grow warts—a way of implying your stupidity is irrational to the point of implausibility.”
Chet glanced at me.
“Him being weird does not mean he’s an abomination,” I whispered.
“I was more trying to decide if that insult rated a one or a zero,” Chet muttered, looking back at the hangars. “So, Miss Nightshade, how would you like to proceed? I believe your military training supersedes my experience in this instance.”
“Let me think and observe,” I said. I couldn’t get a good look at the pirate in the window, but they didn’t seem to be keeping a close watch. The other one that M-Bot had noted strolled out into the light, a rifle hanging from his shoulder.
To my surprise he was human, and had a patchy beard that hadn’t grown in straight. He wore a long overcoat, a T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Oh, and a hat.
A nautical hat. Like, a full-on tricorn.
I could barely hold in a thrilled squeal.
“What?” Chet whispered, noticing my grin.
“These ones actually look like pirates!”
“Indeed,” Chet said. “Human traditions have had a large influence on populations like these. From what I’ve been able to gather, our conquest of the galaxy made it trendy—perhaps a little exotic—to use human terms and fashion for outlaws.” He squinted. “That said, I didn’t expect to find an actual human among their ranks. Not a lot of us around these days.”
The pirate in the window leaned out and called something. They were definitely a dione—a right, judging by their red coloring.
“Looks like they’re doing some repairs,” I said. “M-Bot, swing around the rear and see if you can get a count on how many people are inside. If it appears safe, hover up to one of those windows and learn what you can about the starfighters.”
“Understood,” he said, and zoomed off. He was extremely quiet—that was why I’d been able to use the drone for spy missions. I wished we still had the holographic projector to give him some limited camouflage.
Fortunately, that guard didn’t seem particularly observant. He yawned as he strolled back toward the hangar opening.
“Miss Nightshade,” Chet said, “what we are about to try is much more dangerous than our previous endeavors. That guard is armed, and we risk capture or wounding.”
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
“As am I!” Chet said. “But I feel that we should, out of an abundance of caution, leave your icon behind.”
“Leave it behind?” I said. “Why in the stars would we do that?”