Prompt: A character is at an arcade on the pier, when a man comes up and grabs his/her shoulder.
The Gavitt Crew
“I didn’t realize there are so many arcades on the pier,” he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Terrien. I thought I told you that this arcade is only one with Martian’s Edge game,” Etta said over her shoulder, “Anyone looking this way, Marlin?” Marlin was their shipmate aboard the Gavitt in orbit monitoring their progress. While she was the Captain, she loved to be part of the action. This procurement needed all of them and a specialist.
“What about security cams?” Terrien asked. A lesson learned the hard way a couple months ago.
“Marlin has that covered,” Etta explained, “Did you . . . get what we needed?”
“Mostly, I think.”
“You think?” Her voice was several octaves above normal.
“Keep your voice down,” he chided, “It’s not like I could walk into the store and order antimatter.” Terrien looked over his shoulder, “Marlin, now.”
Walking behind Marlin, Etta asked, “Della back yet?” Della, the specialist, came highly recommended.
“No her tracker status indicates another twenty-eight minutes.”
“You two shouldn’t taunt the local authorities,” Marlin chastised, “If the High Council hears about this, they could suspend our charter.”
“They shouldn’t make the tariffs so high, when the raw materials are so easy for the taking, if Illegal.” Etta said laughing.
“Earth’s a protected primitive planet,” Terrien joked, “Like the High Council would do anything!”
The lights flickered.
“Oh damn.” Terrien raced to the drive console.
Yellow warning lights flashed, and the proximity warning alarms disabled by the military. They were dead in space.
“Cut Della loose. Hide her tracker.” Etta yelled. She ran to the data terminal, ordering, “Remove all records of Della Princing.”
“She’s gonna be mad at you,” Terrien stated.
“No, if she gets caught again, it’s hard time at Renterghem.” Etta swallowed hard. The penial station located in Saturn’s rings. Only the Martian Military had technology to be able to transport through it.
As Etta finished entering the approval code to delete Della, the Military General Haggadone materialized behind her with several armed soldiers and a team of attorneys. It was crowded on the bridge of the small ship.
“Where’s Della Bliss of Dru?” Haggadone demanded, “Immunity for anyone who gives her up!”
“Not so fast, General. You haven’t been. . .”
“Shut up, Rankin.” Haggadone bellowed, “I’ve been chasing her for too long to lose her now. We’ll never find her among all the Earthlings.”
Etta held her breath. They were in more trouble than she realized. She knew Della as Della Princing not as Della Bliss, the ERC’s most infamous Earthling Rights Activist. Some called her freedom fighter, others called her a terrorist.
“We dropped off Della Princing on the ship Trinity, three days ago,” Etta stated.
“Not so fast. The Trintiy said she was aboard your vessel.” Haggadone smiled wickedly.
Warning lights flashed. Alarms blasted.
“The transporters are blocked.” Marlin cried.
The ship exploded.
The Earthling’s evening news reported an unexpectedly large meteoroid shower over the Northern Hemisphere.