i am going to just go ahead and stop pretending to know how long this dumb story will take to end

~

Kicking up ash and black dust the officers shoved each other stiff-legged through the airlock, one of them waggling a blipping gizmo and the other squinting down a gun. Orpicea stepped back. 'What?' she said. 'What?'

'Stay put, ma'am!'

She raised her hands. 'What? Is this—'

'I said shut up, ma'am! Identify yourself!'

'All right! Jesus. Navigation specialist Samantha Orpicea—'

His eyes bugged. 'Don't fucking move! Turn around.'

'I . . . wait, what?'

'Lieutenant—' the other officer began.

'I said turn around!'

'You said don't move.'

'I know what I said,' he barked, advancing, 'and you know what I meant!'

'Lieutenant!'

His mouth snapped shut. The patrolwoman looked pointedly at Orpicea. 'Continue identifying yourself, specialist,' she said.

Orpicea rattled off the suit's credentials. The patrolwoman slapped the noisome device up against her visor to read it.

'Either she stole that suit or it's not her, Lieutenant,' she said, scowling. 'Wrong Orpicea.'

'Bullshit. We tracked her here!' At Orpicea: 'Your goddamn escape pod's docked!'

Orpicea was ready for that one. 'We picked that up before the fire,' she snapped. 'What the hell is this about?'

The officers exchanged glances. Their helmets underlit their faces like children gathered around a campfire. 'You've got snap for luck, ma'am,' said the patrolwoman. 'You're speaking to officers Lambert and—' she nodded at her companion '—Wills. We're after your namesake. A captain Orpicea.'

'Nobody told me about a promotion,' said the navigation specialist.

'Cute. Look, trust me. You want to pass on this one.'

'What'd she do?'

'Made a fuck of a mess,' Wills put in. He slowly lowered his gun. 'Terrorist bitch flung a mining barge into Myriad station.'

'Oh dear,' said the drone. It spread out a sparking arm and stepped aside for them. Its eyes found Orpicea's as the officers stormed past. 'I hope you catch her.'

'Yeah,' said Wills. 'Let's hope the shit out of that.'

Orpicea cleared her throat. 'I might be able to help you there,' she said.

Doors slid open for the drone as it led them weaving through the burnt arteries of the transport. Lambert's finger left a clean line along the wall. 'What's all this, specialist?' she said. 'What's this about?'

Orpicea rambled through her understanding of the fire. 'I'm the only crewmember survived,' she finished, letting her voice strain a little.

'Convenient.'

After a pause, Orpicea murmured: 'I lost a lot of friends.' Nobody said anything. She wondered if they bought it.

The drone creaked to a chiming halt. 'Maintenance, ladies and gentlemen,' it said.

Ducking inside Orpicea cracked a tablet from the wall and glanced over. 'Say her ID?'

Lambert read it off. Orpicea's frantic heart made her fingers shake as they penned in the code. If this didn't work, she was sunk.

The tablet emitted a happy ping. She flipped the screen around. 'Like I said, we found that pod drifting. Hailed us; mayday. I hear they found a woman half-dead inside but I never dealt with it myself.'

Lambert pressed her nose against her visor. 'That a suit beacon?' She snatched the tablet. 'Where's this?'

'Near navigation,' said Orpicea. 'Off in space.'