how do we get there?” I asked. “We went over this all night. This route is the only one that won’t take forever. Without a wormhole portal, we’re already looking at three weeks of lightspeed travel just to reach the outer edge of the system.”
“That is true,” Mgurn said. “But I think I have found the answer.”
He stood up and waved two of his hands in the air. A holo of the Daedalus System came up, and I was once again staring at the orbiting planets that circled the huge red star.
“There is a pattern to how they orbit,” Mgurn said. “Watch this.”
He waved his hand again, and the rotation of the planets slowed to a crawl. After fifteen minutes of staring at the planets, I was about to get impatient. Then it happened.
“Stop,” I ordered. The holo stopped. “Go back.”
The holo reversed.
“Stop right there,” I said. I studied what I saw then got up and clapped Mgurn on the back of his carapace. “Good work, buddy.”
“Once during their orbit, all of the planets align in a perfect row,” Mgurn said. “It happens for exactly one second.”
I pointed at the holo. “Except for this planet here. It is off to the side, almost perfectly perpendicular to the line of planets. Why?”
“Because that is not a planet,” Mgurn said. “It is a wormhole portal that looks like a planet. There is a way into the system. Only one way into the system. If we’d gone our original route, we would have been lost forever. But if we figure out how to use this hidden portal then we can punch into the system safely and navigate the space between the planets before their orbits send them in different directions.”
“Now we have to figure out how to get to that portal,” I said. “It’s not on any of the charts, so it won’t be in our ships’ navigation protocols.”
“It won’t be in my ship’s, no,” Mgurn said. “But you have the former Salvage Merc One’s ship. Perhaps it is in there.”
“Not if he hadn’t gone to the Daedalus System,” I said.
“I have a theory,” Mgurn said. “It wouldn’t make sense for every Salvage Merc One to start from scratch each time the artifact jumps to a new host. That would be highly inefficient. I believe the answer to our problem is sitting in your ship’s navigation database, just waiting for us to ask.”
“Then let’s go foing ask it,” I said.
“Yes,” Mgurn nodded and smiled. “Let’s.”
Having kick-ass quarters wasn’t the only perk of being Salvage Merc One. I also had my own private hangar for my ship. Well, not just my ship. Mgurn had his ship docked in the hangar too.
That isn’t a normal thing. Mgurn was the only assistant in the SMC that had his own ship. He got my old ship when I took on the Salvage Merc One ship. It actually made things a lot easier. We didn’t get on each other’s nerves when we traveled, and we had double the firepower if we got caught in the crud. It also meant that we could cover more ground, or space, when we were searching for whatever I needed to salvage.
But it was my ship we concentrated on when we walked into the private hangar.
“All fueled up and ready to go, sir,” a tech said to Mgurn.
“Both ships?” Mgurn asked.
The tech frowned. He looked at me, looked away quickly, then glanced back over his shoulder.
“Oh, right, that one,” the tech said. “Yes, that one is fueled up and ready to go as well. I almost forgot about it, but you had said to put it on my agenda. Glad you did.”
“I am glad too,” Mgurn said. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” the tech said. He smiled at Mgurn, frowned at me, cleared his throat, then hurried off without another word.
“Why don’t we use bots for this?” I asked.
“Because even the SMC bots have a hard time keeping track of you,” Mgurn said.
“Right.” I smirked. “I forgot.”
It was my little joke I said every time I stepped foot in the hangar. Mgurn’s lack of enthusiasm was his little joke.
The rear ramp of my ship
“That is true,” Mgurn said. “But I think I have found the answer.”
He stood up and waved two of his hands in the air. A holo of the Daedalus System came up, and I was once again staring at the orbiting planets that circled the huge red star.
“There is a pattern to how they orbit,” Mgurn said. “Watch this.”
He waved his hand again, and the rotation of the planets slowed to a crawl. After fifteen minutes of staring at the planets, I was about to get impatient. Then it happened.
“Stop,” I ordered. The holo stopped. “Go back.”
The holo reversed.
“Stop right there,” I said. I studied what I saw then got up and clapped Mgurn on the back of his carapace. “Good work, buddy.”
“Once during their orbit, all of the planets align in a perfect row,” Mgurn said. “It happens for exactly one second.”
I pointed at the holo. “Except for this planet here. It is off to the side, almost perfectly perpendicular to the line of planets. Why?”
“Because that is not a planet,” Mgurn said. “It is a wormhole portal that looks like a planet. There is a way into the system. Only one way into the system. If we’d gone our original route, we would have been lost forever. But if we figure out how to use this hidden portal then we can punch into the system safely and navigate the space between the planets before their orbits send them in different directions.”
“Now we have to figure out how to get to that portal,” I said. “It’s not on any of the charts, so it won’t be in our ships’ navigation protocols.”
“It won’t be in my ship’s, no,” Mgurn said. “But you have the former Salvage Merc One’s ship. Perhaps it is in there.”
“Not if he hadn’t gone to the Daedalus System,” I said.
“I have a theory,” Mgurn said. “It wouldn’t make sense for every Salvage Merc One to start from scratch each time the artifact jumps to a new host. That would be highly inefficient. I believe the answer to our problem is sitting in your ship’s navigation database, just waiting for us to ask.”
“Then let’s go foing ask it,” I said.
“Yes,” Mgurn nodded and smiled. “Let’s.”
Having kick-ass quarters wasn’t the only perk of being Salvage Merc One. I also had my own private hangar for my ship. Well, not just my ship. Mgurn had his ship docked in the hangar too.
That isn’t a normal thing. Mgurn was the only assistant in the SMC that had his own ship. He got my old ship when I took on the Salvage Merc One ship. It actually made things a lot easier. We didn’t get on each other’s nerves when we traveled, and we had double the firepower if we got caught in the crud. It also meant that we could cover more ground, or space, when we were searching for whatever I needed to salvage.
But it was my ship we concentrated on when we walked into the private hangar.
“All fueled up and ready to go, sir,” a tech said to Mgurn.
“Both ships?” Mgurn asked.
The tech frowned. He looked at me, looked away quickly, then glanced back over his shoulder.
“Oh, right, that one,” the tech said. “Yes, that one is fueled up and ready to go as well. I almost forgot about it, but you had said to put it on my agenda. Glad you did.”
“I am glad too,” Mgurn said. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” the tech said. He smiled at Mgurn, frowned at me, cleared his throat, then hurried off without another word.
“Why don’t we use bots for this?” I asked.
“Because even the SMC bots have a hard time keeping track of you,” Mgurn said.
“Right.” I smirked. “I forgot.”
It was my little joke I said every time I stepped foot in the hangar. Mgurn’s lack of enthusiasm was his little joke.
The rear ramp of my ship
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