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“You said there were signs of life coming from this ship, right?” The beam of Agent Vanderwood’s flashlight showed little beyond the cloud of dust motes that their entry stirred up, so he clicked it off with a snarl. Further ahead, he could see a few dim lights in dull greens and reds from a control panel. He would just have to wait for his night vision to kick in before they could progress.
His partner wandered ahead, the faint light enough to show gaudy yellow marks on his spacesuit as he deftly navigated through the darkness. “That’s what ELLY’s readout said. We have artificial grav too! That’s usually the first thing to go on a ship like this if it’s left floating unmanned for too long.”
“Right.” Vanderwood blinked, his nose twitching at the thought of being surrounded by so much dust, even though there was a barrier of transparent plastisteel between it and his face. Who would live on a ship and let it get this dirty? If they weren’t already trying to track this guy down for smuggling illegal weapons, he would fine him for a lack of common decency.
The shape of the chamber began to come into focus around him and he took a moment to survey the place before following Agent Seven. Everything smacked of a standard-issue cargo cruiser, albeit one that was a few generations older than what most legitimate traders used. Of course, there was a reason for that - these older models were better at evading sensors with their out of date OS and lower energy signature. By running silent when anyone got close enough to show up on the radar, a smuggler could make themselves look like a derelict ship. They risked being targeted by scavengers, but they usually had ways to deal with that possibility anyway.
Like two tons of illicit energy weapons to take their pick from, thought Vanderwood with a grimace. He watched Seven’s form vanish around a corner, mental images of a cornered criminal with a gun in his hands making him wish his partner was taking this investigation more seriously. Though he kept his footsteps as quiet as possible, he hurried to catch up with Seven.
“There you are! Hey, check this out!” Seven was pointing excitedly towards a poster haphazardly tacked to the hull. A large scaly creature reared up on two legs, menacing a scantily clad alien woman. “Salacious Sauropods from Sector Nine, coming to a holo arena near you!” announced the faded flyer. Vanderwood shrugged helplessly, unsure of why his partner was so set on him seeing it. Visibly deflating from the lack of shared enthusiasm, Seven whispered, “Space dinosaurs!”
Not this again! Rolling his eyes hard enough to make his head throb, Vanderwood took advantage of the distraction to push past the younger man and take point. “For the last time, space dinosaurs aren’t a thing,” he muttered under his breath.
Recalling the blueprints he’d seen of this model, he navigated through the next room, making a beeline for the hatch that would lead down to the cargo bay. As he crouched down to pry it open, Seven hunched down next to him. “They are real, and I’ll find evidence of it one day.”
“That’s great, but I need you to focus right now. The only thing we need to find evidence of today is that whoever owns this ship has some seriously deadly prototype firearms down here, and who his connections,” he paused, grunting as the hatch finally gave way, “are.”
“I’m focused, I’m focused,” Seven muttered as he took his turn on the ladder leading down, gritting his teeth as it wobbled slightly.
They found the cargo bay mostly empty but for three large crates. Any identifying marks had been scorched off, leaving behind a smear of blue-green oxidation over the blackened metal cladding. So, their guy was less interested in making their haul look legit then they were in protecting their source. That meant they would have to convince their smuggler friend to talk once they found him. Vanderwood felt his way around one of the crates until he found the mechanism to open it - a biometric scanner. Well, that just deepened the mystery. Was it tuned to the smuggler or to the recipient? “Hey, Seven. It’s time to do your thing. We’ve got what looks like a serious business retinal scanner here and I need to confirm what’s in these boxes.”
“You got it, Mary!”
The sound of Vanderwood’s metal glove slapping against his helmet echoed through the bay. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”
Seven grinned to himself as he fished his tools out of his pack. “About as many times as I’ve managed to make you facepalm in your suit? Oh man, it’s hilarious every time. Classic Mary Vanderwood!”
“Less talk, more work!”
“Yes, boss!”
Jaw quivering as he bit back another retort, the older man cleared out of the way to let Seven work. Despite how irritating he could be, Seven’s hacking skills were second to none. Leaving him to it, Vanderwood made another circuit around the area, scouring it for anything else that might help their investigation. Just as he heard the heavy click of a lock giving way behind him, a lanky man leapt through the hatch, landing in a three-point stance.
Before he could even stand, Vanderwood was on him, pinning the man’s arms behind his back and twisting his wrist until he dropped the weapon he’d been holding. “Why the hell are you on my ship?” he snarled as he tried to wrench himself out of his captor’s grasp. Vanderwood quickly discovered that the man was far stronger than his bony form implied and keeping him pinned was quickly proving to be a challenge.
Seven was already on his feet and striding toward their captive. “Obviously we’re here to stop you!” He paused a few steps away, eager to finally get a good look at the criminal they’d been tracking for months. Though a black plastisteel mask covered the lower half of his face, there was no mistaking the expression of pure rage that he wore. Cold green eyes glared at Seven from below a shock of white hair. His clothing bore no identifying marks but reminded him somehow of a pit fighter.
“Let go of me! You don’t know who you’re messing with!”
“You’re right!” came Seven’s chipper reply. “I was hoping you’d simply tell us without a fight, but man, you sure are an angry guy, huh?”
“You!” That single word tore through the cargo bay as their mark twisted again and yanked one of his arms free. He lunged forward, forcing Vanderwood to take a step with him or risk losing what little hold he still had on the furious man.
Seven held his ground as the smuggler snarled at him like a vicious dog at the end of his leash. At this range, he noticed that he wore a necklace - a thin black cord of dyed sinew held a single serrated tooth as long as a pinky finger. “Woah! Hey, scary smuggler guy! Is that really a space dinosaur tooth!?”
Both men paused in their struggles for the briefest of moments to boggle, Vanderwood cursing internally and shooting his partner a pleading expression. Voice tight and cracking, their mark screamed, “You break into my ship, try to capture me, and that’s what you’re worried about?” At that moment, he and Vanderwood were certainly on the same page. At least until he finally managed to yank his other arm free and run full-tilt at Seven.
The hacker braced for impact, hoping to turn his attacker’s momentum against him, but the shrill squawk of the communications system coming online abruptly caused all three men to pause, with the smuggler screeching to a halt only a few steps from his target, swearing. A woman’s voice, somehow oily and crystalline at the same time, echoed through the mostly empty ship. “Oh, I do hope I’m not interrupting anything important, dear. I’ve been waiting for you to respond to my hail. You weren’t thinking of keeping those treasures all to yourself, were you?”
Only seconds ago, he’d been a bundle of uncontrolled rage. Now, the smuggler hunched on the floor, the bend of his shoulders and back bringing him close to a fetal position. The fear he radiated was palpable. While his reaction was a mystery, it was one for later. Vanderwood checked his sensors and confirmed that while they’d been tangling with this guy, somehow a massive ship had snuck right up on all of them. The voice came through again. “Or, did you need more time to play with your new friends?”
“Tell her everything’s fine,” came Seven’s hushed voice, close to their target’s ear. With one arm around the man’s throat, and the other pinning his arms at his sides, he’d regained control of the situation. Or so he hoped. With no response forthcoming, the Agent tightened his grip, pressing hard against his captive’s windpipe.
“I-I’m,” he started, his voice barely a whisper until Seven let up a bit. “I’m fine! I have the equipment you requested and will get ready to dock right now!”
“Good boy. See that you do.”
The communications system closed with another static-y screech, and Seven had to tighten his grasp again as the man in his arms resumed his struggles. “Heeeeey, now! Look, hold still. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you.” Seven turned to Vanderwood, giving him a pointed look. “We’re gonna get out of here now and let you do your thing, okay?”
Seven released him, and the smuggler collapsed into a sitting position. He glared up at the Agent, jerking to and fro to test the strength of the handcuffs he just realized were keeping his arms wrenched behind his back. “What the hell?”
“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll disable those remotely once we’re well out of range of any weapons this ship might be packing. Oh,” he said as he stopped in front of the bound man. “I’ll be taking this, though.” Seven yanked up on the tooth necklace and pocketed it. “Bye~!”
The two Agents bolted back the way they came, their escape punctuated by glaring emergency lights and a fading, though impressive, string of swearing.
Vanderwood was a flurry of motion once they were back on their ship, flipping switches and slamming buttons before he’d even sat down. Powerful engines roared to life as he buckled himself in and shouted for Seven to do the same. “Keep your eyes on that ship once it comes into view,” he added. “Grab any energy signatures or identifying markings you pick up from it.”
“On it.” The moment they rounded the derelict and caught sight of a massive ship, Vanderwood engaged hyperspeed.
“You better have gotten something good. We missed our chance to find out what that kid was up to because of your stupid obsession.”
“Hardly,” Seven scoffed, leaning back and twirling the dinosaur tooth necklace around his finger. “Check your display.”
With a growl, he picked up his datapad. “Feet off the console.”
Seven righted himself in his chair for half a second before leaning as far as it would take him so he could peer over his partner’s shoulder. “Whoever he was, he’s just a pawn in something bigger, and he’s in over his head. Now, thanks to my quick thinking, we can track him everywhere he goes.”
“What the hell’s this weird eye logo?”
“Dunno,” Seven shrugged. “Looks like we’ve got a mystery on our hands even bigger than space dinosaurs.” He tipped back in his chair again, boots resting on a less important part of the ship’s controls, and considered his stolen prize. After years of searching for he knew not what, he felt he was finally on to something. Even if he couldn’t save himself from the life he’d fallen into, maybe giving this unknown smuggler another chance at life could make up for some of the damage he’d done over the years.