Saul sat beneath a poorly constructed pavilion, sipping a bowl of malatang. The spicy broth, filled mainly of the same fungal analogue that now filtered the air recyclers on The Bete Noire, stung with every swig. The soup was a reward, despite its lacklustre flavour, for the completion of his crews' foothold on Moby.

  In the pasture out front of the pavilion, Marge methodically picked away at the grass Tidus, and a few others had planted the week before. She seemed at peace, oblivious to the events of the past month, calmly grazing, and Saul realised this had been the first solid ground she had walked on since Earth. That she had been on Earth before it was lost to them. A true-as-earth-was-green, earthling.

  Astonishment aside, Saul knew he had work to do. Finishing his last spoonful, he slid the bowl over to the young busboy that was coming around. It seems without him paying too close attention, they'd gone and set up a thriving town square where before had briefly been no more than a simple food station.

  The whole of the outpost was burgeoning around him. They had set up their modest colony on the third planet of the Moby System, on a planet of the same name. The place screamed of old Earth. The planet was covered in dense charred soil as if a past cataclysm had wiped the world bare. It's almost as if the place had been laid out for them, a blank slate ready to become a home.

  The ship that had carried them here, The Bete Noire, or The Betty as the crew had exclusively dubbed her, was of a very ancient design. When asked about the ship's origin, Belcia had only the word "ancient" to say, implying that the ship's logs went back several thousand years, though that far back it seemed the data had become corrupted. Those records that did survive seemed to culminate in some ancient, long-forgotten war.

  The Betty had remained in orbit as Belcia, and her team worked at restoring as many of the ship's systems as they could.

  "Chief Cardes?" Saul said, opening up a channel to Belcia, "an update if you please."

  "Betty's seen better days, that goes without saying. Though I expect she'll be ready to soar given another day or two to button everything up. Life support and defensive systems are nearly at one hundred percent or as close as I can figure without a ship's manual. Several decks are without gravity generators and sealed off," she said.

  "So we don't staff those decks then until we find the replacement parts we need," Saul said

  "That's the thing, Captain. I'm not even sure what these gravity generators run on. They're so old that I'm not sure anyone does. As far as I'm concerned, they're powered by magic. It’s a black box," Belcia said. "And that being the case, we'll be royal if another generator in a more critical area goes down."

  Saul thought about that for a moment.

  "Seems there's nothing to dwell on, except the unchangeable," he said, brushing off the concern, "where do we stand with weaponry– can the torpedoes we brought over from the Diggory be interfaced with Betty?"

  "Not a chance, nor do I think it's even worth the effort. Seems whatever battle this ship suffered through had seen its stockpiles depleted. And The Betty doesn't even fire any sort of conventional ballistics. The weapons ports more closely resemble our rift projectors, though I'm not even sure what their power source was. I'm afraid it's just mystery after mystery with this one."

  "Well," Saul said, "let me know if there's anything I can supply you with, be it more manpower or some of Deric's malatang."

  "Gross, you can keep all of that for yourselves. I'm still astonished that you all are cooking with that stuff that we found on the Betty." Belcia made an overzealous gag.

  "The first crop of potatoes and tomatoes are still a few weeks out. You'd speak differently if you gave it a try. It’s really not that bad."

  "No thanks, plenty of ration bars still up on the ship. Maybe when you guys harvest something a little more human, I'll have to stop by for a visit," said Belcia.

  "And you're sure I can't send you back Deric to help out with the repairs?"

  "And take your cook away?" she joked, dismissing the gesture. "I tasked him personally with overseeing the outpost's construction. He's right where he ought to be."

  "Fine, more malatang for me then. There's also talk of setting up a distillery; get a fresh batch of vaske in no time," Saul boasted.

  "I'll be alright. Lots here to keep me busy," she said, signing off.

  Over the past few weeks, Belcia had been speaking to him more and more. It was clinical and professional at first but had seen a joke here and there. Saul hoped this was a sign that things might be cooling off between the two of them.

  Saul was eager to know more about Betty and about Moby itself. About to open a bulletin to Tidus, he figured he might as well walk over to where the man had set up his new offices.

  On top of overseeing the planting of food crops and the joint oversight of construction of general amenities in the new outpost, Tidus somehow took the time to have a rudimentary collection of administrative structures built. Within one of the buildings, he'd laid out various types of newly printed chairs neatly arranged circularly around a central podium.

  On the podium, Saul found Tidus, his arm deep inside a hatch in the top of the podium, fiddling with some wiring.

  "Your council chambers are coming along well, I see," Saul said.

  "I figured we needed a place to sit, discuss, think things through thoroughly and as a group this time around," he said, standing and slamming the hatch closed, "Council? No. Well, maybe."

  "I'm not complaining," Saul clarified, "The Betty's my domain, but down here… well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

  "Is that so?" Tidus asked.

  "Seems we've gone and created a colony by accident. As far as I see it, a colony needs a governor."

  "You may be right. Someone needs to stick around and handle resupply and gathering materials if you're ever going to get that hulk back to full fighting strength," Tidus said, amused, "though who is going to be around to save you from yourself?"

  "I've got Aiden. And Belcia," Saul said.

  "Aiden," Tidus spat. "I would be careful around him. No telling what he's really up to half the time.

  "Though, I do suppose I can rest easy knowing Belcia can keep you in check."

  "She still resents me. I can feel it," Saul said, sullen.

  "She'll come around. Besides, without her around, Betty wouldn't fly. Keep her happy, and by that, I mean don't be your usual selfish self, and you'll do fine."

  "Another great point," Saul agreed. He glanced at his terminal, scrolling through a wall of innocuous data trying to make sense of it.

  "Any idea what lies out there on the rest of Moby?" Saul asked.

  "I've had a brief chat with Deric about that. Says this world is strangely barren, despite its stable atmosphere. Seems whatever did the scorching down here was careful not to harm the surrounding environment while at the same time wiping away all traces of their involvement."

  Tidus continued, "though, all the telemetry we've got is coming directly from The Betty. Maybe it's not seeing everything on those ancient systems?"

  "I'll have Belcia dispatch a few drones that we brought over from The Diggory. See if there's anything left to see." Saul said, dispatching a bulletin to Belcia, to which she responded; done.

  It would be several hours before the initial readings came back, and Saul decided he would nap off some of that malatang.

  "Keep up the good work, Governor," Saul said, giving him a mock salute.

  "Governor Backen, I could get used to that," Tidus said before spotting a chair askew in one of the rows. As Saul left the chambers, he could see Tidus eyeballing angles and adjusting chairs to be perfect, and he knew that Tidus had found his calling.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  On his way back across the town square, Lisa came out and planted herself directly in his walking path. He could see a vague frustration in her face, and he knew what it might be about.

  "Afternoon, Sergeant Hutteno," Saul said, attempting to side-step around her. She repositioned to again stand between him and his awaiting bed. "What can I help you with?"

  "I want off this rock," she said, not elaborating.

  "I know you're smart, Lisa," he said, dropping the pretence, "you know I can't allow that. You're free to live amongst us in the colony, to contribute or not contribute as you see fit. But letting you go would amount to a death sentence to all of us here."

  "I'm not stupid, and I'm not willing to risk the lives of any of these fine folks that somehow still call you Captain," Lisa spat.

  "Then what are you asking of me?"

  "Come with me. Let me bring you in."

  Saul laughed, "you think they'll show me any sense of mercy?"

  "To you? Maybe," she said, unconvincingly, "but to your crew, to anyone here, I know they will show leniency."

  "Now I am starting to doubt your intelligence," Saul snorted. Looking around, he could see that their little discussion had begun to draw a crowd, "you seriously believe that der Waals and the rest of the Sovereignty will see kindly on them?"

  "Yes, I do," she said, firmly. "The only fault I see in all this is yours."

  Saul rolled his eyes and let out a breath.

  "Come with me. Take the blame and help me make the case that they were all mistaken into following some blind, foolish prophet. They may even let Moby keep existing."

  "I'll bet they would. Bring Moby into the fold, but not before stuffing this pristine world with the staunchest of their bureaucrats. Who knows, maybe Moby will be the next hit vacation destination!"

  Lisa, struggling to contain her frustration, leaned in closer. "I can take you to your son. Please think about what guilt the Sovereignty might cast on his shoulders."

  Saul was alarmed by this. How did she know about Cole?

  "Let me take you in so at the very least you can explain to him what you've done," Lisa said, the threat lingering on her voice.

  "Ho– there," Tidus said, stumbling out of the council chambers and into the light. He blocked the sun with his forearm as he walked over, forcing his bulk between the two of them.

  "No need to get nasty here," Tidus said, trying to regain some level of peace.

  Lisa stepped back.

  "Think about it," she said as she walked towards the commissary.

  "Shows over,” Tidus said, ushering away their audience, "everything green?"

  "Yeah, think so," Saul said, trying not to dwell. Though now he was having a hard time not worrying about Cole.

  "Good then. Back to governing," he said, trotting over to bark at someone tending the fields.

  Failing to get any rest back in his quarters, Saul decided to send a message to Cole. He opened a bulletin, despite the risk in sending out a message and the Sovereignty finding Moby;

  "Well, Cole," he started, "I'm alive."

  "I hope this message reaches you. I don't doubt you'll notice that I'm sending from a new signature. That part's a little hard to explain."

  "I'm sorry if you haven't heard from me in a while or if you tried to contact me after The Diggory went dark. Hopefully, this isn't overstepping, but I miss you."

  "I don't really think it's safe or smart for me to explain now, but I was hoping you would come meet me."

  "Along with my coordinates, I've attached a fair sum of credits to this message. I'm hoping that's enough to get you from wherever you are to here. And if you do come, best would be to head through Vass space first. I can't explain why, but it would be wise not to let the Sovvos know your destination."

  "I understand if you don't want to come. I worry about you, kid." Saul finished the message and hit send. He wasn't sure if that would even reach Cole or even if that was a stupid idea. All he could do now was wait.

  Nearly a day later, the first of the drone telemetry started rolling in. Saul, Tidus and Deric were back for another round of malatang, leaning over a holoprojector of an image of Moby.

  “I’m not quite sure what I’m looking at,” Belcia said over the bulletin.

  “It’s simple, really,” Deric said, earning a raised eyebrow from the rest of them.

  “I don’t think there’s anything simple about it,” Tidus said, his hand tracing a mountainous structure on the projection. The structure was massive; a small continent-sized ripple-like formation that spread most of the way around the planet’s main landmass. A landmass that now hosted Moby’s first burgeoning colony in what could very well be thousands of years.

  “So this ripple here,” Saul started, “how did The Betty’s systems not pick it up?”

  “It did,” Belcia said, “though it wasn’t able to determine whether or not the ripple was a natural formation. That, or the systems didn’t think much of the structure.”

  “Maybe it assumed we already knew?” Deric guessed.

  “Maybe. Though that still doesn’t answer what it is,” Saul said.

  “If I had to guess, I would say it was related to the scorched earth we see all around us,” Deric said.

  “And what do we think caused this ripple?” Saul pushed, trying to force an answer.

  “No idea,” said Belcia and Deric in unison.

  “What’re you fine folks looking at?” Aiden said, walking over and forcing his face over the projection.

  “Any ideas?” Saul gestured from Aiden to the ripple structure.

  “Easy. Rift wake.” Aiden said, referencing the phenomenon that occurs when a ship exits riftspace with too much force, too close to another object.

  “No way rift wake can do that much damage,” said Tidus.

  “Sure it can,” said Aiden, “All you need is enough mass and enough speed when entering the rift. That all translates to one heavy exit when you hit your destination. It’s all proportional.”

  “The mass you need to create that much force…,” Belcia said, trailing off. “No. Impossible.”

  “Maybe so, but look, he might be right,” Deric said, “Point of origin for the initial blast wave that formed the ripple structure had to have come from outside of atmo.” Deric’s finger traced a wide arc on the projection.

  “But we’re still talking mass in magnitudes far exceeding that of a planet. Hell, it would have to be as if a gas giant just popped into existence. Moving that much matter around is inconceivable,” Belcia said, incredulous.

  “Fact remains, the ripple is there,” Saul said, “though it means nothing to us and our present concerns.”

  “Ain’t that the bleeding truth,” Aiden said, stealing a chair from another table and wedging it between Deric and Tidus. The two of them grudgingly shifted in their seats. “So, what’s next? Are we going freelance, or are we off to plan our next heist?”

  Saul thought for a moment. He knew any honest work couldn’t come from The Sovereignty since they would likely shoot at the first sight of him or The Betty. He had had his fill of planning heists also, seeing as how poorly his first attempt went.

  “With our immediate concerns of food and rudimentary infrastructure covered thanks to our new Governor and his Chief Engineer,” Saul said, the accolades caused the two men to perk up in their seats.

  “But a colony can’t flourish off of that alone,” he continued, “What we need now are medical goods, electronics, additional printers and filaments, horticulture, weapons, and most of all skilled, trusted workers to begin to grow our new home in more than just getting by.”

  “Most of that can be sourced from Federation worlds,” Aiden said, “Earth knows they are less fond of the Sovvos than we are.”

  “Right, and base materials can come from the Vass. Veka system isn’t too far of a jump away. Horticulture too, really, so long as what we’re after is a bit of landscaping, and we’re not planning to eat the damned things, not like that fungus you're throwing in the soup.” Belcia said.

  “I’d like to keep this all underground. Make sure no one knows the true destination of this cargo. If they ask, make something up,” Saul stressed, “Governor, what’s your take?”

  Tidus mulled for a bit before answering, “I’d like to see about some honest work through the Vass. I think there’s clout to be had and a certain image we can present if we keep things above board.”

  “That may be so,” Saul said, “But no one got rich off of dealing solely with the Vass. And besides, I’d be more worried about them getting to know the Betty and learning that Moby is where she makes her berth. Best we fly ambiguous. If anyone sees us out amongst the stars, let no one track us back here.”

  “I’d also like to reopen communication with the outside. Let the crew discreetly contact their loved ones and let them know they’re still amongst the living,” Tidus said. “It goes without saying that all such communication will be screened and sent through an intermediary.”

  “Right, and I’ve got recruitment,” Aiden said emphatically.

  “Sure,” Saul said, not quite sure why Aiden was suddenly so enthusiastic. “Also, Aiden, reach out to your contacts. See if Dusk has anything that needs procuring.”

  “You sure?” Aiden asked, “things didn’t really go so well for us last time.”

  “We’ll need to take some risks if we hope to last out here,” Saul pressed, "and besides, my new ship's Second, Belcia, won't let me do anything too reckless."

  There was a silence in the group. Tidus' face softened in approval, while Aiden forced a grin. Deric smacked a hand down on the table, nearly knocking a bowl off.

  "Yeah, Belcia!" Deric howled.

  "I–" Belcia stammered, "thanks?"

  "If anyone's earned it, it'd have to be you," Saul said, echoing Deric's enthusiasm.

  "Then," she thought, "first order of business would be to tell you four to get off your asses and back to work."

  Then, directed at Saul, she coyly said, "captain."

  "You heard her," Saul said, standing, "Move."

  With that, they began the final preparations for The Betty's first job. Tidus was able to procure short-term runs between the Vass world Veka and a private human science station known as the Belltower. After two days of preparation, Saul, Aiden, and a small complement of crew opting not to help in colonial efforts boarded a shuttle to join Belcia onboard The Betty.

  On the Bete Noire’s bridge, nestled deep within the central levels of the ship, Saul took a seat with Belcia where she was busying herself, briefing the crew on their new duties. She hadn’t had a chance to find a replacement Chief Engineer, being that Deric was busy down on the colony. So, for the time being, Belcia had opted to fill both Second and Chief positions. Saul wondered how far she would stretch herself before she truly asked for help. In the meantime, a job was offered, The Betty was prepped, and the crew were as ready as they could be.

  “I only wish we had those weapon batteries working,” Saul said, mostly to himself.

  “Well, if you can figure out what goes in ‘em, be my guest. For now, though, let’s stick to not making a fuss with others. Keep us low profile,” Belcia said.

  “Look at that, keeping me honest already,” Saul said, impressed, “Well, that does it. Ensign, I’ve set a course for Veka. See to it that we make it there in one piece.” The ensign nodded, and Moby leapt out of view from all wallscreens.

  After several months of successful runs, the crew and Saul began to grow restless of the low profit, high lead-time, monotonous work. Sure, they have seen more than a few new stations and worlds. They have met and experienced several new cultures and peoples, most jarring being the Vass and their eerily native human-like speech, while at the same time looking as though a leafless tree had spent a few too many years drifting through open ocean. Despite all that, they wanted something more exciting.

  That was until their first commission from Dusk came through. The job was to get hold of a shipment of medicine that was being shipped by a Sovereignty-owned freighter from a fringe colony world, Turanda. They were to intercept, board, and liberate the supplies and return it to Dusk for a profit several magnitudes greater than the runs they had been doing for the Vass. It was then that Saul knew that they were really going to have to lean into the word pirate.