To Miles, nothing was better than getting lost in a good book. The problem was, sooner or later, reality always came calling. In this case, reality took the form of an increasingly insistent bladder that was distracting him just as he was getting to the climax of a great action sequence. He had been sure it was almost over twice now, but the twists kept coming, and he didn't know how much longer he could wait.

With an annoyed grunt, Miles put the reader down, hopped off his bed, and started walking to the lavatory. It was always weird walking through the empty halls. Compared with the pirate ship, where it was hard to get a moment's peace, the long corridors and echoing footsteps made him feel small and isolated.

Once at the washroom that had obviously been built with a larger crew in mind, Miles took care of business quickly, then stepped back out into the hall to head back to his room. However, rather than head back, he turned and looked the other way. There was so much of this ship he'd never explored. Maybe it was time to change that.

Walking down the unexplored hall, Miles started to feel like he was inside one of the stories he liked to read. This was a ghost ship, after all. Who knew what secrets were hidden in these corridors?

Down one hall, Miles heard the sound of gunfire. He almost turned and ran, but the gunfire was steady and consistent rather than the sporadic firing of a life-or-death struggle.

The room the sound was coming from had an open door, allowing Miles to peek inside, where he found Captain Carter doing some target shooting while speaking to the girl between rounds. "I wouldn't discount merchants as fighters. Anyone who sails the void in search of profit is made of sterner stuff than most. With the dangers of those who would steal those profits, legal or otherwise, they're always ready for a fight. We already know the character of Captain Olson; we just need to treat him right, and he'll do right by us!" Whatever they were talking about didn't particularly interest Miles, so he kept moving.

Down the corridor and around another corner, Miles could make out someone shouting and lots of crashing and clanging sounds. This time, the door to the room was closed, muffling the sounds, but there was a window, allowing him to peek inside. The large cat lizard alien seemed to be fighting the terrifying spider alien.

The spider alien, Vanessa, Miles reminded himself, skittered and leapt around the room, turning and changing her momentum in impossible ways. Meanwhile, the large, muscular alien, Erik, lashed out with powerful blows from his axes that would have probably killed any human they connected with. Miles could tell the plasma edges were turned off, so this was probably just practice, but it was still fascinating to watch.

Vanessa charged forward, and Erik lashed out with one of his axes in a horizontal swipe. However, the spider brought her front legs down into a kneeling position and leaned back, kicking off one final time with her hind legs, allowing her to glide under the axe's arch. Erik seemed to anticipate that move and brought his other axe around in a low cut designed to swing up into Vanessa, who slammed one of her claws into the ground to rapidly change her trajectory, managing to just barely avoid the slash, then swung her other claw out in an attempt to pierce his vulnerable midsection. Erik brought his first axe back just in time to deflect the blow, swinging his second again, only to catch empty air as Vanessa had already pulled back out of his reach.

After that flurry of blows, the larger Erik held out a hand while panting, barely managing to get out the words, "Give me a sec to catch my breath!"

Vanessa didn't seem too impressed. "Do you think the enemy would allow you to stop and catch your breath?"

Erik grinned. "Maybe not, but no one other than you could have eluded that last hit!"

Vanessa shook her head. "There's always someone better out there. Just because we haven't encountered any real challenges lately doesn't mean we won't, and some of them may learn a great deal faster than myself."

Erik laughed. "I hope so! It would be awfully boring to think I was the pinnacle of what a warrior is capable of!"

Vanessa shook her head. "Remind me to take you to visit my progenitor one day. She will quickly dissuade you of any feelings of superiority!"

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Erik grinned. "I can't wait! She sounds like my kind of lady!"

Miles wasn't sure if this was some weird flirting or just how they interacted. To be fair, he wasn't confident if they knew either! Still, he didn't want to get caught staring at the two of them like some kind of weirdo, so he decided to continue his exploration of the ship.

For a long stretch, the hallways seemed filled with old dusty rooms without much to interest him. The rooms seemed like testaments to people long passed. Some were neat and tidy, others had clothes and other everyday items strewn about, not as if the rooms had been ransacked or anything, more like they were just messy people going about their lives, and that's how it had ended up. He saw pictures of some of them. In one, a young child was waving for the camera. Realizing that despite the image capturing and preserving the image of her youth, she was probably long dead by now was a very dissonant feeling.

Miles was just about to give up and turn around but decided to check the last room in the hallway. Unlike the rest, this wasn't dusty at all. It was like it had been carefully tended to and preserved all this time. For a moment, he wondered if he'd stumbled into one of the other people's rooms, but the bed wasn't nearly large enough for Vanessa or Erik, and the room just didn't look like it would belong to the Captain.

On a dresser centered opposite the door sat a rather intricate model ship. Not a void vessel, but rather an old wooden water sailing ship. On the wall above it was an old wooden helm's wheel. Looking about, there was what looked like an old fishing net on another wall, with various sea shells and stuffed fish secured to the net. However, what really caught Mile's eye was a lone book sitting on the bed, leaning against the pillow like it was in some position of honor.

Walking over, Miles saw the book's title, "Treasure Island." This room must have belonged to...

Suddenly, Miles felt like he was no longer alone in the room. Turning around, he saw the pirate, John, who'd taken his name from the book, now on the bed.

The pirate looked around with an expression of nostalgia. "It's been a while since I last visited. There's a lot of old memories in this place."

Miles immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude!"

The pirate laughed. "Oh, no worries, lad. You committed no offense!" He then pointed at the wooden ship model. "That there is the Queen Anne's Revenge! The famous flagship of Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard, the Pirate. It was initially a French slave ship called La Concorde that he captured and...repurposed. It was equipped with forty guns and crewed with over three hundred men. He once used her alongside his fleet to blockade the port of Charles Town, South Carolina, and ransomed the port's inhabitants. The man was basically the inspiration for every pirate tale told after his passing!"

Miles looked at the ship again. It was an intricate maze of string, sails, and decks. He could see why it would take three hundred men to sail. It was an impressive vessel, and from the sounds of things, it had been involved in some remarkable events.

The pirate beamed. "That model was my pride and joy! It was originally on display at a museum back on Earth but had been boxed up in storage for who knows how long. It's one of the few gifts my father ever gave me. That, and the book you see over yonder." He pointed, drawing Miles' attention back to the bed.

John continued. "They don't print books very often anymore. No reason to! You can load hundreds of books onto a data slate and read them whenever it strikes your fancy. But there's no replacement for the feel of a good book in your hands. Go ahead, pick it up!"

Miles hesitated. "Are you sure? It seems rather old and important. I wouldn't want to damage it..."

The pirate laughed again. "Nonsense! It's been treated and is more durable than it looks, and besides, no book was ever meant to just be decoration! They're meant to be held and read! Go ahead, lad! Pick her up for me since I no longer can!"

When it was put like that, Miles could hardly say no. He reached down and grabbed the book, carefully opening the cover, where he saw another ship on the title page. He lightly touched the paper, feeling a slight roughness to the page, and the pirate smiled. "That's the Hispaniola, captained by Alexander Smollett in the book. Not as grand as the Queen Anne's Revenge perhaps, but still the source of many a childhood dream of mine."

Not wanting to damage the book any further, Miles closed the cover again. John smiled and nodded. "Why don't you borrow the book, lad? Read it in the original format!"

Miles shook his head. "I couldn't do that! What if I damage the book?"

The pirate shrugged. "That's the nature of things. When you use them, they get damaged. The only other option is to leave them eternally sealed and forgotten, but where's the joy in that? Take the book and read it! Allow the words on its page to come to life once again!"

Miles held the book, then nodded. "All right. If you insist."

John grinned. "Oh, I do! I do! Go on now and give her a good read!"

When Miles looked up again, John was already gone. He shook his head and walked out of the room more slowly than he'd entered it, not wanting to disturb the room's peace any more than he already had. However, as he walked down the hall, something nagged at him. In the room, the dresser had been surprisingly small, and the bed relatively short. That wasn't the room of the bombastic pirate he'd come to know... It was the room of a child.