„Text from Yezz.“, Twitch hollered from the bridge into the small mess hall of the Grimalkin, where Red and Grubs where having an afternoon tea, complete with biscuits.

Outside the screen, the darkness of hyperspace was imperceptibly passing by. Space, and with it the light of stars and galaxies, was bent around the Grimalkin, making faster-than-light travel possible.

The other two were on the bridge within seconds, in the calm but quick manner of experienced spacemen. On a ship as small as the Grimalkin, the artificial gravity field could collapse in less than a minute if some fault caused the generator to fail. It happened rarely, but it happened. For that reason, space ships had hand-rails everywhere, similar to the sailboats of old.

„Text only?“, Red asked, sitting down next to Twitch.

„Yes.“, the pilot answered, „Short burst transmission, to minimize interception chances.“

Grubs took up a standing position to the left and slightly behind Twitch. Unlike the Rusty Bolt, his engineering station was on the same level as the other two, but it was slightly off towards the side. If he wanted to read Twitch’s screen, he had to stand. His cybernetic arm gripped the back of Twitch’s chair. Grubs had the habit of always holding on to something, if possible.

Twitch decrypted the text message and put it on the screen in front of him. The text was factual, short, in the same tone Yezz had used a few hours ago when she had urged them to send the report ahead.

„Drop-off location at the edge of the Junkstorm?“, Red wondered.

Grubs tilted his head slightly. „Not her usual mode of operation.“

Twitch nodded, turning his head slightly towards Grubs: „Not the usual cargo, either.“

Then he turned back to the console and copied the coordinates given into the navigation system. They pointed to a seemingly empty region of space, until he brought up the astronomical details. An information window lit up, indicating a rogue planet at that precise location - though by size it was more of a moon.

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„Dwarf planet without a sun.“, Grubs remarked, „Probably flung out of some star system millions of years ago, wandering the universe alone.“

Twitch nodded, bringing up all the details the ship database had on the object. It wasn’t much. „Ten percent Earth gravity“, he read, „Nice choice for a drop-off. Confirms what we think about an alien buyer - someone who wouldn’t want to venture deep into the Junkstorm. It’s a rocky planet. Possible to drill or blast a hole to hide in. Easily predictable course. Pick-up could be days or months later and you’d still not risk losing it to the void.“

Red had not said anything for a while. Her eyes scanned the screen and the text message. The other two turned their heads and looked at her. It took her a few seconds to even notice. Then she said: „Something is off. A drop-off? How does she guarantee payment? And that location…“, she trailed off.

„What about it?“, Grubs asked, „It’s just a small deviation from our course, no trouble at all.“

„Exactly!“, Red exclaimed, „It’s too convenient. I’ve never heard of the spot before. And Yezz didn’t mention anything like this before we departed. So what changed her mind? And why?“

„We could ask.“, Twitch suggested.

Red nodded. „Let’s do that. But ask for verification. Let me think of something only Yezz would know.“

„You think it’s a fake, captain?“, Grubs asked, „Despite the encryption?“

Red turned fully towards him and Twitch: „Maybe a fake, maybe someone is holding a gun to her head. Either way, we need to make sure.“

„But if they’re holding a gun…“, Twitch began.

„No matter what she writes, we’ll answer in the affirmative. But if it’s false, we know something is wrong and Yezz knows that we know.“

Twitch nodded and started writing an answer. It read: „Message received. Just to make sure it’s really you:“ and there he paused, waiting for Red. She shook her head: „Too obvious. Write instead: „Just like our first meeting, remember? And then sign it with my name.“

„That’s a good one.“, Grubs remarked, „Even I don’t know that. And it’s less obvious you’re asking for proof.“

Red smiled: „It’s our sweet secret. Not because it’s a crazy story, it isn’t. It’s simply nobody’s business.“

Twitch finished the message, then encrypted it to Yezz’s private key. His finger hovered over the „send“ button while he looked at Red for final confirmation. She nodded. He tapped the button and the message was off.

„Time how long it takes to respond.“, Red told Twitch, then stood up. She went back into the small mess room to finish her tea.