As Alen peered into the room, he beheld what looked like a collection of some kind, with trophies spread throughout, all lit by some ghostly green light that seemed to emanate from thin air. Some were easily recognizable as large animals, bordering on what he would call "monsters." Others were less easily understandable, objects that looked like chunks of metal with no discernable meaning to the casual observer. However, they obviously held some import to whoever put them on display.

A booming voice spoke out to them from the back of the room, the source of which was hidden behind the various displays populating the room. "Come in! Come in! Let us speak and get to know each other!"

Alen looked at Erik, who shrugged. There was no help there. He then hesitated, wondering if they took the stranger up on their offer, they'd somehow get even more lost than they were now.

As if to answer his unspoken thoughts, the voice spoke again. "Oh, relax. I won't make the hallway disappear on ya. That's not my style."

With little to lose at this point, Alen decided to step inside, followed closely by Erik and Vanessa. "Okay, but hallways have been appearing and disappearing. If that's not your doing, then whose is it?"

As he rounded a corner, Alen got the first sight of their host. He was clad head to toe in surprisingly colorful sailing regalia that looked like it would be more at home on an old wooden sailing vessel than a ship flying between stars. Somehow, he smiled as he spoke, his laughter audible in every word. "That would be the doings of the fair lady! She has a habit of playing with her prey before she finally strikes."

Wondering who this fair lady was, Alen nodded before addressing a more immediate concern. "So that begs the question, what's your style?"

The sailor threw back his head and laughed. "You don't beat around the bush, none do ya!" Then, fixing the kid in a more direct glare, the sailor smiled viciously. "If I had quarrel with you, lad, I'd face you front and proper. You'd have a pistol in your hand and a chance to survive by the power of your will and skill. Not that the odds would be in your favor, mind you, but a chance is a chance, slim though it might be."

A bark of laughter from behind Alen made him jump slightly before realizing it was Erik, who evidently felt like adding his own two cents. "The boy might surprise you there! He's got more fight in him than his appearance would suggest! Give me a bit, and I'll make a right scrapper of him yet!"

The pirate tilted his head, shifting his attention to Erik and then to Alen. "Oh, is that so? Perhaps I should give you a chance to prove your mettle?"

Alen fought the urge to roll his eyes...again. "Perhaps another time. For now, we need to speak with Captain Carter. Is he available?"'

The sailor laughed again. "Yer lost on a ghost ship and come face to face with an honest-to-good ghost pirate, and yer still worried about speaking to the captain? Yer a man of singular focus, ain't ya?"

That was when Erik chose to speak up again. "Did you call yourself a pirate just now?"

The pirate turned to the large alien. "Aye, that I did. I've been sailing and looting these stars since before your grandparents took their first breath!" Then, after a slight pause, he added, "Presuming you have grandparents, of course."

Erik took a step forward, towering over the already large pirate. The alien sounded thoughtful. "Hmmm... You have no scent..." He swiped a hand through the pirate. Alen reached out to stop him, far too late to do anything about it, even if he had the power to restrain the alien, but the hand passed through the air harmlessly. "And no body. You might just be a ghost... So that begs the question, how do I kill something that's already dead?"

The pirate suddenly had a dangerous glint in the eye, accompanied by an equally dangerous grin. "Oh? Got a quarrel with pirates, do ya?"

Erik smiled back, somehow showing even more teeth than usual. "You could say that. I kill every pirate I meet."

The pirate didn't seem the least bit intimidated as he took a step forward, bringing himself closer to the large alien. "Killed many pirates then?"

Erik also took a step forward, now looking down at the pirate he towered over. "Hundreds. The only good pirate is a dead pirate."

Alen didn't like where this was headed. "Listen, we're not here to..." But he was suddenly cut off when the pirate and Erik started laughing simultaneously, leaving Alen looking back and forth, trying to figure out what had happened.

Finally, while Erik was still catching his breath, the pirate spoke up again. "Well then, as I've long left behind my mortal coil, we ought to get along just fine! You'll have to tell me a tale or two of all the pirates you've killed sometime, assuming you live long enough."

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Erik's answering grin was a little less edgy than it was a moment ago. "Only if you bribe me in drink and food! Can't tell a good story on an empty stomach!"

As the two friendly enemies seemed to conclude their bonding, Alen shook his head to get back on track. "Yes, food and tales sounds fun, but first, how do we contact Captain Carter?"

The pirate looked contemplative for a moment. "Well, if you want to speak with the captain, just head to the bridge, of course!"

As if finding the bridge was so easy... Alen did his best to keep his impatience in check. "And how do we find the bridge?"

The pirate pointed right back the way they'd come, toward the dead end they first encountered. "Why, just down yonder! You just have to learn not to take no for an answer, and you'll find what you seek."

Alen wasn't sure what that meant or how he should react. Maybe he was just supposed to take one of the side paths near the end? The side paths that hadn't existed the first time he'd walked that way... Still, at least they had a direction they were sure of now.

Alen offered his hand before realizing how pointless it was. He lowered his hand to his side before responding. "Uh, yes, thank you. We'll give it another go, I suppose."

As he started walking out of the room, Alen had a sudden thought and turned around to ask another question, only to realize the room he'd just walked out of was now an empty storage room. In confusion, he turned and looked at Erik, who also seemed confused as he shrugged. "Huh, guess that guy knows how to make an exit!"

Looking between the two befuddled men, Vanessa seemed to grow impatient. "Well, if you two are done speaking with apparently non-existent ghost pirates, can we get moving? I'm growing weary of all this pointless back and forth and would rather be done as soon as possible."

On that, at least, Alen agreed with the Vitexrā.

-

As they made their way back to the bridge, again apparently, the hallway became cluttered by more and more debris, making the path all the more obnoxious as they had to weave back and forth to avoid obstacles rather than simply walk in a straight line. In one such corridor with the dead end in sight, as he was squeezing to one side to fit through a narrow path, Alen lost his balance and fell forward, bracing himself for impact on the pile of junk he'd been trying to avoid, only to fall through it rather than onto it, hitting the hard metal floor with a much harder impact than he'd been anticipating.

As he groaned and rolled to the side, Alen realized he was rolling out of what was essentially a projection of some sort. Of course, Erik laughed as he helped the much smaller man to his feet. "Only humans can trip over their own two feet like that!"

Only feeling like his arm was somewhat being pulled out of its socket by the larger man, Alen groaned and shook his head. "And only you can make it seem like you're being friendly while laughing at someone in pain."

Vanessa seemed to be regarding the debris and carefully swiped through some, only for her claw to pass unscathed. "Curious. I suppose that explains how this waste material seems to come and go. It would also explain the appearance and disappearance of side passages. However, this illusion seems to span wavelengths of light far beyond human perception, meaning they possibly anticipated someone with my enhanced visual receptors."

Alen shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm just tired of these games!" With that, he kicked a pile of crates. His foot passed without resistance through the first crate, only for it to come to a sudden halt on the second, apparently very real, metal crate with a solid "thud." While the metal foot itself didn't have any feeling, pain still shot up through the stump it was attached to, leaving Alen hopping and cursing as Erik laughed some more.

A familiar voice then spoke to them, seemingly out of thin air. "If I'd known you'd be so unappreciative of my hard work, I would have just lopped your foot off and called it a day."

Alen bit back his initial retort, realizing this was probably the "fair lady" the pirate had mentioned while implying that they were her prey. However, the voice was also one he recognized, and he decided that rather than take out his frustration on her, it might be best to appeal to her better nature. "Oh, Lady Sybil, I didn't realize you were watching. I apologize for letting my temper get the best of me. I meant no disrespect."

Sure enough, a moment later, the woman in red materialized in front of Alen. However, with a deep frown and crossed arms this time, she looked decidedly less patient than the last time they'd met, which was truly saying something. "Watch yourself, boy. Respect is one thing, but empty flowery words will not earn you any favors."

Alen stopped and considered her words. Had he really offended her, or was she just looking for excuses to take out her wrath on him? He felt like he was being tested. There were many wrong answers, and the consequences could be dire. Without any clue as to what the correct answer might be, Alen decided to take her words at face value. "That's fair. Then let me be more direct."

Looking up, Alen met the lady's gaze. It wasn't incorrect to say holding her gaze was one of the more challenging things he'd done in recent memory, including learning to walk again. "Lady Sybil, we need to see Captain Carter, and all these needless delays could cost us more than just time and patience. It could cost lives. I request that you allow us to pass and speak with him. After that, you can decide if we deserve further torment."

Alen fought to keep her gaze as the lady in red seemed to consider his words. Eventually, she relented. "Your words are still a little flowery, but I suppose the intent is there. Very well."

As she waved her hands, the dead end ahead of them opened up as a large metal partition rose into the ceiling. Like the metal crate, it wasn't all just smoke and mirrors. Turning back to the lady in red, Alen bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

Alen turned to walk forward toward the entrance to the bridge when the lady in red spoke once more. "However, if it turns out you're wasting our time, you might never find your way back to your crew. You've been warned, little cockroach."

Of course, when Alen turned to respond, the woman in red was already gone.

Erik's lopsided grin wasn't quite as wide as usual as he responded. "Well, she seems nice."