Miles was metaphorically nose-deep in a book file about a man who'd been cast ashore on a deserted island and forced to survive for years on his own. It was gripping, even if some of the verbiage was a little older and hard to read. However, it made Miles wonder if he'd suffer the same issues from isolation. To him, being alone on an island without another person around sounded more like paradise than torture, though admittedly, the survival part might be difficult.

That was when a slight flash of light let Miles know he was no longer alone in the room, let alone on an island. The girl, as Carter had apparently named her, appeared a moment later.

Miles put down his datapad and looked at the new arrival. "What's up?"

The girl smiled as if in on some sort of joke but simply inclined her head respectfully. "Well, I thought I should warn you we might be heading into another fight with pirates soon."

Thinking about more combat made Miles hesitate a moment. "Do you do that often? Fight with pirates, I mean."

The girl shook her head as if exasperated. "More and more these days, I'm afraid. It's like they're coming out of the proverbial woodwork looking for us, which I suspect they are. Being in this ship paints a bit of a target on your back, but so far, we've managed to come out on top!"

Miles thought about constantly fighting pirates and then about the book he was reading. "Why not just go out into unexplored space and leave this all behind? From what I understand, it's really just you guys running things. You probably don't even need a captain, right?"

The girl smiled sadly. "Even if we didn't need a captain, space gets lonely far too quickly. When you've lived as long as we have, simply surviving isn't enough anymore. You need something to live for. For The woman in red, it's tormenting those who used to torment her, or at least people like them. For John, it's getting into fights and hearing people's exciting tales." She then trailed off.

Miles waited a moment before prompting her. "And what do you live for?"

The girl chuckled. "Well, I suppose I live to get to know people. Our captains...usually."

That was an odd answer and one that got Miles' attention. "What's so fascinating about people? We're all pretty much the same, trying to get ahead."

The girl shook her head. "At first, it might seem that way, but once you really get to know people, they are all very different. I can't say I necessarily like everyone I meet, but it's still fascinating to see what makes them, or in this case, you, tick.

Being talked about like everyone else made Miles hesitate for a moment. He wasn't like everyone else. He had struggles like no one else he'd ever known. But then again, maybe that was her point. Thinking back to all the people he'd known over the years, he briefly wondered what their lives had been like. What struggles they'd faced that no one knew about.

For a moment, his new perspective was almost dizzying. It was like a weird sort of metaphorical vertigo. Then, the moment passed, and he realized he was probably boring to them, just like they had been to him. "There's nothing big about me. I just survive and read stories. That's all."

The girl smiled. "Well, in a way, that's the same thing I do, too. I survive and listen to people's stories."

That... was one way to look at things. Then, as the girl turned to leave, Miles stopped her. "Uh, wait. Should I find somewhere safe to hide? Maybe somewhere with crash webbing or something?"

The girl tilted her head as if considering what he'd said. "Well, how'd you like to come sit on the bridge? Maybe see one of those space fights you've read about up close for once?"

Miles grinned. "Yeah, that sounds pretty cool!"

*  

Alen shook his head. They were really gonna fight it out, weren't they? Why did they always want to do things the hard way? What they could really use right now was some clever trick or strategy to confuse and overwhelm the enemy. Unfortunately, while the Sybil seemed to have an endless supply of those, he was more of a basics kind of guy. Then again, he'd fought against plenty of pirates who didn't even seem to understand that, so it could be worse. "Keep our distance and focus on shooting down any missiles or rockets they send our way. We can trade cannon fire with them for a while before it becomes an issue, and hopefully, we'll have reinforcements by then. I doubt they'll try to board our ship since this is more of a smash-and-grab, but have men in suits ready to go. We might need to send reinforcements to the station. Make sure that if that happens, you clearly identify yourself as backup. We don't need to lose anyone to security who mistakes you for pirates!"

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At each command, a round of "aye captain" was directed his way. Now came the hard part. With all the commands issued and everyone already doing what they could, it was time to sit and wait. There was no point in micro-managing the battle when everyone knew their specific jobs better than Alen. The most he could do was keep an eye on numbers like generator output and shield integrity, pretending like that was actively helping despite the fact there were probably a dozen other sets of eyes, all more experienced than his own, watching the same numbers for any changes that might demand attention.

In reality, Alen had come to find space battles were terrifyingly dull. In a weird sort of way, he'd come to understand Erik's preference for boarding the enemy vessels rather than sitting back and slugging it out. Yes, you were usually outnumbered and outgunned, though that barely slowed the insane alien down, but at least you were directly in control of your end of the fight! Then again, the mild rocking of the ship that accompanied large ordinance impacting the shield was a lot less stress-inducing than hearing the wiz of bullets flying inches from your head, knowing that any second you might just cease to exist on the mortal plane...

Alen shook his head. Mortal plane? What was it about space combat that made him get all contemplative like that? He looked at the vid screen. Two destroyers were heading high around either side of the station, and one was coming in low. On the one hand, it was a good way to prevent the Laughing Comet from running anywhere. On the other, it was also a good way to expose all three ships to the maximum amount of firepower possible from the station, as the gunners wouldn't have to pick and choose targets, and they would take a heavy toll on their shields.

Still, Alen didn't particularly like the idea of facing all three ships at once. They probably planned to wipe them out quickly and then take their time with the station. On the one hand, he could come around to one side, get in close to one of the ships so they both took a pounding but hopefully enable him to take it out before the other two showed up, but doing so wouldn't leave him in any condition to fight back after that. Instead, he turned to the helmsman. "Drop shields for a micro-jump away from the station. Just out of effective cannon range. Make them think twice about chasing us or fighting the station."

The helmsman nodded. "Aye, Captain!"

The shaking grew more pronounced briefly as the few guns with an angle to shoot at them managed to score hits directly against their hull, but the Sybil had reinforced their hull to take a few hits for just this sort of maneuver. Then, there was a twisting sensation in Alen's gut, and the shaking stopped as they found themselves considerably more distant from the station than before.

Now, the enemy had to choose. They could micro-jump after them, but that would leave them vulnerable to a full barrage from the Laughing Comet. They could probably take one of the ships out entirely in that situation. or they could take power from the shields to focus on the station to try and burn its shields before they could get in range again. However, while the station probably wouldn't be able to finish them off, it could cripple the ships enough that the Laughing Comet would be a real threat to all three. Or they could keep fighting a balanced battle, forcing Alen to come back slowly so as not to expose his hull again, but that would take the longest and leave them more vulnerable to reinforcements showing up, and while Alen couldn't match the power of all three ships in a slugging match, time was very much his ally in this fight.

That was when the communications officer spoke up. "Sir! We've got another incoming, bigger than the last three!"

Alen turned to the man. "Is it the Sybil?"

A moment later, the man shook his head. "No, sir! It's coming from further away than the last three, though, giving us more of a heads up."

Alen thought for a second. "Contact the station. Ask if their backup is incoming."

The communications officer nodded. "Aye, sir!"

After a quiet but terse conversation, the man looked back at Alen. "They say none of their people should be coming from that direction!"

Alen frowned. That changed pretty much everything. A larger ship meant it was likely a gunship or cruiser of some sort. They couldn't compete with that kind of firepower. He looked at the rest of his crew. They looked back, awaiting his orders. But what should he do?

Unable to decide, Alen turned toward the bridge officers, trusting their expertise. "I need a quick consensus. Should we cut and run or try something stupid?"

Commander Reid looked around at the rest of the officers, many of whom had been raised from more menial roles to fill the positions. As the rough and tumble officer of their old ship, he'd had more of a rapport with them than Alen. They all simply nodded silently to the commander, who then turned and looked at Alen with a stern expression. "Beggin the captain's pardon, but I think I speak for everyone here when I say...we all want to see the first stupid thing you do as captain! If we survive, it'll make a hell of a story as the people on the station give us free drinks for life!"

Alen tried to grin confidently as the crew cheered. He hoped they'd survive long enough to tell that tale...