It's home. As much as we have one anymore.
The doors whistle open as I head onto the bridge. The Buoyant Star's bridge is enormous, every bit as big as a spaceship this size deserves—at least to my unknowledgeable eyes. It's got enough seating for twenty, each with different control panels and button set-ups. There's a captain's chair in the center of the room (complete with its own set of controls) and one massive wall is a view out into space. Most of the time, we see nothing but stars. I can see Alice is there with the others. Ruth's slouched in her favorite chair, her long legs stretched out in front of her, black hair falling in front of her sulky face. Helen sits across from her, legs delicately folded, and there's a look of such excitement on her perfect features that it sends a surge of adrenaline through me.
"A ship, Jade! Are we excited?" She gives me a bright smile, waiting on a verdict.
"I don't know yet, honey," I say. "Let's see what we've got, first." I move toward the window, gazing out. The ship's the size of a lemon on the massive screen, but as I watch, it's getting closer and closer. "How long do you think we have, about an hour?"
"I think that's about right," Alice says, coming to my side. She crosses her arms under her breasts and regards the sight with me. "They've been hailing us, so they absolutely are coming for us."
I stare thoughtfully at the approaching ship. I don't ask Alice if she hailed them back. I know the answer to that—we don't know how. We only know how to use a handful of the buttons on the wealth of controls on the bridge. We've been floating, stranded in space, for years now and we still can't speak or read a lick of the language. No one's here to teach us, and the computer won't acknowledge us in the learning programs because we're cargo.
I study the ship, trying to compare it to the others we've run into. Most of those ships have been smaller. I don't know much about spaceships, so I always compare things to fishing, since it feels like we're stranded out in the biggest ocean ever. The Buoyant Star is like a whale, floating alone on this edge of the universe and in a class of its own. We've run into a few ships of different shapes and sizes, the biggest being the size of, say, a dolphin in comparison. Impressive on its own, but nothing to the “whale” we're currently in. Most are the size of regular fish, small little cruisers that the pirates like to run. The cruisers are easy to strip and launch back out into space, their control system not nearly as complicated as that of the Star. I was hoping we'd have another one of those middling fish, just the right size for us to steal supplies and turn out.
But as the ship steadily approaches, I feel a ping of worry. This isn't a regular fish we've caught with our bait.
This might be a shark. It's not quite as big as our whale, but it's pretty big, and I'm growing more concerned by the moment about the size of the crew she'll have on board. We can handle two or three pirates. We've handled five once, though that involved a lot of trickery.
We're gonna need a fuckton of trickery if that approaching ship is full of pirates.
I take a deep breath, thinking, and then turn back to “my” crew. "We've got a live one, girls."
"Yay!" Helen says, clapping her hands with excitement.
"Not yay," Ruth hisses. "I'm so tired of this slave girl shit. I don't want to be bait this time." She sits up in her chair, pushing her dark hair away from her pale face. "We need a better plan."
"This one works," I tell her. "Unless you've got something up your sleeve, we're going with what works."
"Ugh," she groans, dropping back into her chair again like a sulky teenager. "I hate aliens. They're such fucking hornballs. The moment they see human tits, they just lose their damn minds."
"That's exactly what we're counting on," I say tightly, glancing over at Alice. "Anyone else object to the plan?"
"Nope," Alice tells me, shaking her head. "I'm good with the slave girl plan."
"All right, then."
Helen clasps her hands in front of her chest. "Who's who today?"
I glance at my team. Even though we've done this at least three times before, I get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach each time. We've been stuck here together for three years and we've come to think of each other like family. More than family, even. I cried when I was taken from Earth and everyone I loved, but that's nothing compared to the devastation I'd feel if I lost Alice, Ruth or Helen. It'd be like missing a limb.