Chapter 42

Macro's breath froze in his throat. His entire mouth had turned dry, and his paws felt like useless, clammy lumps stuck to the end of wooden limbs. He couldn't move.

Sandwiched between the solid wall and the hostile nozzle of a laser. Its rim lit up, loaded. He could already feel the heat from its coil as it readied itself to fire.

That was it. No way out, nowhere to run. As soon as she pulled that trigger, he'd be dead. There was no way he was living a blast of fire at such close proximity. He wasn't fast enough to counter it. He daren't even move. One twitch and she'd fire.

That would be the end of him. He hadn't stopped Socket. He hadn't got Switch back to his own time line. He hadn't fulfilled his promise to DL. He hadn't even apologized to her, and at that moment he wanted to do that more than ever.

The laser jerked, jabbing into his ribs, and Surge let out a strangled choke. His attention snapped from the laser to her face, but she wasn't looking at him. Her lips curled back into a grimace, and her eyes were screwed tightly shut. The one ear he could see lay parallel to her skull, reminiscent of a scorned hatchling. Her paw trembled violently and she let out another choke, letting the laser clatter to the floor.

"I can't do it!" She flopped into him and he raised his paws to catch her.

That breath finally left his throat, and he fixed the far wall with wide, violet eyes. He gave himself a mental shake and dragged his focus back to Surge. The zigzagoon sobbed into his scarf and wrapped her paw over his shoulder, her claws digging into his flesh. It felt a whole lot more intimidating than it should have done, given the circumstances.

He took a steadying breath and turned her towards the bed, giving her a gentle shove until she was seated. Then he smoothed his scarf down and gave the laser a hefty kick. It skittered across the floor and vanished beneath her dressing table.

"Gonna tell me what that was about?" he growled.

She didn't look up at him, just stared down at her paws. He caught a lone tear which vanished into her brown fur.

"That job I took?" Her breath rattled as she wiped a paw across her eyes. "I've been hired to kill you."

"Let me guess." Macro folded his arms and leant his weight on one leg. "Socket hired you?"

She nodded weakly.

"And that's why you've been following me, ain't it?" He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "It all makes so much sense now. Our 'stalker' vanished once we removed DL's tracking chip. Threw you off the scent, huh? Bet you couldn't wait to get me cornered behind these walls."

"It's not like that!" she snapped. "I've spared your life three times now!"

"Oh. Thanks." He flashed a canine and glanced over at the window. "Gonna give me a chance to run before you give chase again? Never should have trusted a mercenary."

"Shut up."

"So. Should I just up and leave now? Get a head start?" He pointed at the door, then his eyes widened slightly and he wiped a paw across his mouth. "I wouldn't be surprised if that sneaky little kiss of yours were an attempt to poison me."

"I'm not a poison type." She fixed her pale brown eyes on his, fierce yet still wet with tears.

"It's a valid assumption. Given the enhancements you've had done to free up your paws so you can carry your weapons. Bet you couldn't walk on four legs again if you tried."

"Will you shut up!" She tugged her bandanna from her head and wound it tightly in her paws. "Good grief, you could poison with your words alone."

"Well excuse me for being a little bit suspicious of the girl who just had a gun pressed against my chest!"

Surge flinched away from him and stared blankly across the room. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and her shoulders rose and fell as she desperately tried to calm herself.

"Anyway," Macro said, a lot calmer. "I'm off. Don't think I'm giving you a single credit. I think attempting to take my life nulls any payment you were about to receive."

"No." Her words froze him before he could turn away. "No, don't go. There's... a reason I can't kill you."

He turned his head to frown at her. "And what's that?"

"I don't... I don't think you're in the wrong." Her green checkered bandanna was wrapped so tightly around her left paw it resembled a glove. "It's murder. I can't murder you. I couldn't murder anyone, but you..."

"Oh, I see." He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. "Paying you with 'dates' is starting to make a lotta sense."

She flinched and looked away from him. "This is why bounty hunters don't generally form attachments. It makes our job a lot harder."

"Same could be said for space pirates." He tapped his claws against his arm and inclined his head on one side. "And if I knew for a minute 'bounty hunter' was part of your title, I would have avoided you like the plague."

"You knew why I was in Pulse City, Macro."

He snorted and looked over at the door. It almost beckoned to him. He itched to leave.

"Thing is," she said, "I never thought it would even be possible that I'd ever fall for a space pirate."

He jerked his head around to look at her again, his mouth slightly ajar.

"But you see," she went on, "I need to cover my tracks. I had to take this job. I was worried sick that Socket was gonna suss out I was the hacker. She knows you're responsible in some way, Macro. I couldn't let her think for a minute that-"

"So you were happy to kill me. Hot and cold, Surge. That about sums you up."

"No! I wasn't happy to kill you! I'm still not!" She clenched her teeth together and shook her head violently. "I don't want to kill you, but if I don't-"

"Leave it." He waved a paw at her and turned towards the door. "You do have a choice, you know. You can continue this job and try to hunt me down - and I'll fight back, believe me. Or you can drop it."

"Wait." Her paw fastened around his wrist and he looked back over his shoulder at her, meeting her frantic eyes. "I can drop it. If you stay with me... one night... I'll drop it."

His jaw went slack and he shook his head slowly. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I'll drop it, then I'll hide. Socket will have to scour all of System to find me. And you."

"Are you even aware of what you're asking me?" he spat.

"Yes," she said. "Once night. That's all I ask."

"Forget it. I don't bargain my life like that."

He snatched his paw away and marched over to the door. As he pulled it open, he looked back at her. She stared down at the bandanna, slowly unwinding it from her paw. Those fresh tears fell free, but she wouldn't look up at him.

"It's the pachirisu, isn't it?" she said. "She got to you first."

"DL doesn't have anything to do with it," he said. "I warned you that you were playing a dangerous game, Surge. Now look at the state of you. Maybe you should quit. Don't you think you've hurt yourself enough?"

"In that case."

Her voice was laced with a warning. He paused with one foot outside the door and glanced back at her over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"As soon as you leave this room," she said slowly, "we're enemies."

"Fine."

"No more favors. That's it. I'm not risking my life for you any more. I'll track you across System like a shadow, and you'll never see me coming."

"I have a radar on my ship. I'll see you coming."

Surge chuckled and shook her head. "Did I mention your ship? I highly doubt you spotted me in Binary City, but you saw what I did to that magnezone and his fleet."

Macro's jaw dropped. "That was you?"

"Of course it was me. Let that be a warning to you that I never miss my target." She let the bandanna drop to her lap and fixed him with a confident stare, betrayed only by her damp eyes. "Mark my words, Macro. Once you leave this building, the chase is on. I'll give you an hour's head start from the second your ship leaves the docks. Given the damages it's taken, it's only fair. But after that, Hunter becomes the hunted."

Macro leered at her for a moment, trying to work out any deceit behind her words. None. She looked as confident as her words sounded. He snorted and slammed the door behind him.

No more favors.

He could live with that.

He shook himself sharply, trying to dislodge the lingering cobwebs that followed him from Surge's 'den'. As he marched over to the elevator, a sinking feeling hit his gut.

"Darn it, DL. I told you to wait!"

He rushed towards it and hit the button to call it back up to him. He stood with his arms folded, waiting for the ancient contraption to rattle its way up to him. He'd lost track of how long he'd been stuck in Surge's apartment. It could have been minutes, it could even have been an hour. He hoped desperately DL hadn't gone far. If she had, hopefully she'd be on his ship, safe.

The elevator seemed to mock him with its slow, creaking doors. He forced his way inside before they'd opened fully and pressed the button to close them. They didn't even meet, giving him an unnerving view of brick walls interspersed with the shadowy drop down the shaft.

An echoey ping resounded before the doors rattled open. Had it made that noise before? He looked up at it curiously as he exited into the lobby, then searched around for DL. His eyes fell on the pachirisu waiting by the door. She shifted from foot to foot, peering out at the bustling street.

"Decided to wait down here?" he asked.

She glanced at him then looked back outside. "I followed Matrix but... I don't know, I just didn't fancy going into the Moonlight Lounge right now."

"Pity. I was gonna get some dinner." He moved towards the door, holding it open for her to pass him.

"You took a while," she said.

"Yeh, well. I kinda had to sort some stuff out."

"Like what?"

"Leaving with my life intact for one thing." He caught a confused look from her and chuckled. "Don't worry about it."

"Well... I thought she seemed nice." DL stopped in front of him and fiddled with her belt. "Listen, I've been thinking. I'm clearly a burden to you, and if it helps, I can look for someone else to work for. I don't need the rest of those disks, but... I am wondering what happened to my parents. And there are a lot of pirates here who can-"

"Wait." Macro held up a paw. His heart was doing somersaults at every word and it was beginning to make him feel sick. "Slow down, DL. I don't want you gone. I was just... upset."

"Upset?" She shook her head slowly. "You were upset with me. I could tell."

"It's not you who upset me." He scratched the base of his horn and glanced away. "Well... I guess it might be perceived as you, but the problem is all me, okay."

"I don't think I understand."

"It's simple." He met her warm eyes and spread his paws. "I'm a jerk, okay? I get upset easily then I say things I don't mean. I'm a total jerk."

"Are you trying to apologize?"

"I guess I am, yeh." He let his paws fall to his sides and sighed. "You're not a burden. I'm just... this isn't something I often admit to, but I'm absolutely terrified right now."

"Of Socket?"

"Of everything! This time and space nonsense, a human showing up, that creepy monster we shot down." He ran a paw over his head and hissed through his teeth. "Sometimes... all this stuff with your memories and BackDoor... it reminds me of it all, and I get scared all over again."

"So you're scared of me..." She glanced away from him and wound her paws together.

"No, I'm not scared of you. It's this ridiculous situation. You're innocent in all this. Just like me, you've found yourself pulled into it all. I should be helping you, not making you feel like trash."

"But you don't have to help me," she said quietly.

"Who else is going to?" He bit his lip as she looked away from him, then threw his back against the wall with a groan. "See what I mean? I'm a total... argh..."

"No," she said quietly. "I am amongst space pirates. You've told me enough times they're not nice pokemon. And I can't exactly ask government officials or the police for help, can I? Since they all work for her."

The venom in her voice as she referred to Socket sent a chill down Macro's spine.

"Well I want to help you," he said.

"Do you?" Again, the tone in her voice chilled him.

He bit his lip and stared past her. "Yes. I do. It's just... Like I said, things frighten me. Not just all this nonsense with Socket, but... I told you a space pirate always looks out for number one, right? You never know who you can trust. So I have this shield I put up to stop myself getting hurt. You make me drop that shield, and it worries me."

She looked right at him, meeting his eyes. Any coldness behind them melted away and he had to divert his attention to the wall, fixating on a poster for Spiced Tapu Cocoa.

"The last time I let anyone get close," he said, "I ended up getting hurt. Badly. Not just emotionally, either. She thought I were too reckless, and I'd stopped a freaking garchomp from slicing her up with his iron claws." His paw went to his scar and he sighed and shook his head.

"So you push others away," said DL.

He nodded and folded his arms. "Yeh. It's much easier to deal with pokemon I can't stand, if I'm honest."

"Wow." She let out a single laugh. "I'm not entirely sure whether or not to take that as a compliment."

"Don't," he said, looking straight back at her. "I'm a jerk. Just let me make it up to you, okay. I promise, if you still want my help, we'll get the rest of your memory disks back. After that, if you want to work for me on Wildcard Gamma, you can. If not, then..." He shrugged. "Then you can go. It's your choice, I'm not forcing you into anything."

She was silent for a moment, meeting his eyes. It took every nerve in his body to force himself to look back at her. It no longer felt like he was being plunged into chocolate fondue. It was more like drowning. Suffocating.

She inclined her head on one side and nodded. "Call me crazy, but I think I still want your help. Afterwards, however, I think I'll go my own way. That way, you still get shut of me."

Yep. Drowning.

He looked away from her and nodded, trying to hide any pain behind a dry chuckle. "It's a deal."

"Well, I guess we should get back to your ship." She looked over her shoulder at the still bustling street. "I could use a nap."

"Seriously?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "You've been out cold since dawn."

"I know, but I'm oddly tired."

"I'm more hungry than tired." It was a lie. He had no appetite whatsoever. "Since I didn't have to pay Surge, my wallet hasn't been sucked dry. So if you want some dinner-"

"No thank you." Her words sliced right through him. "I think I'd rather just have a nap."

He nodded and kicked himself back from the wall. "All right. I'll message Matrix that we've gone back to the ship. Although I doubt he'll have finished his game yet."

...

Government ships were rather intuitive in design. Widget had picked up the basics at the drop of a hat, so Tracer sat back and enjoyed the ride. Another thing that had struck him was how smooth and fast they were. They'd been flying for about a day and a half, leaving Meta City - and Socket's scowling face - miles and miles behind them.

The small cramped space didn't do wonders for the back, however.

Tracer stretched, his spine popping audibly. Widget flinched and looked over at him, his muzzle creased into a grimace.

"Wowzers," he said. "That can't be good for you. Sure you ain't getting arthritis?"

The delphox tutted and scratched behind his ear. "It's just the downside of sleeping in a chair. Man, I can't wait to get out of this ship and stretch my legs. Why won't they build sleeping quarters into these things?"

"Because they ain't long-haul ships."

Tracer scratched at the fur inside his left ear and yawned widely, then he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his cigars. As he popped one between his teeth, he caught a raised eyebrow off Widget.

The eevee rolled his eyes and looked away. "Good job we ain't returning this ship, ain't it?"

Tracer almost dropped his cigar. "Pardon?"

"Oh yeh. Sorry." Widget laughed, creasing the green tattoo over his eye. "I guess I dreamt that conversation with you while you were sleeping. Yeh, we ain't returning it."

Tracer removed his cigar from his mouth, still unlit, and let it rest in his paw on his lap. "Care to elaborate?"

"Well, I was thinkin'," the eevee said, rather quickly, "that since we're chasin' after this human and her crew, a government ship might stand out a little bit. So I kinda changed our course."

Tracer's eyes narrowed as the reality of Widget's words sank in. He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, cautiously, "May I ask where to?"

"Pulse City."

Tracer groaned and leant back in his seat, slapping his paw into his face.

"Hey, don't worry about it," said Widget all too cheerfully. "We'll sell this thing for spares and buy a better ship. One with beds, for one thing."

"You're trading government property for a space pirate ship..."

"Aye. Thought we could name it Undercover Shamus."

"That defeats the entire purpose of being undercover in the first place."

"Gotta admit though, the idea of an undercover detective flying around in one of them fish-themed ships is a pretty neat idea. Because this ship practically screams 'arrested'." Widget beamed at him then looked back out the window.

Tracer sighed deeply and lit up his cigar, taking a long deep drag to calm his nerves. Socket was going to hang, draw and quarter them. She already wasn't happy with him taking 'the little ragamuffin' on board. Now he was suggesting they sell the very ship she'd lent them. It wasn't that he didn't have a valid point. He did. And there was no way either of them could afford to buy a ship from space pirates without first making a decent amount of money.

It was work. Maybe Socket would see it that way.

He let his eyes close and fell back into his seat. "How long until we reach Pulse City?"

"About fifteen minutes," said Widget. "I just gotta throw up the cloaking device. I don't want them sniping at us before we even reach the docks."

"Great. That leaves me with almost no time to try and blend in," the delphox groaned.

"Well I blend in fine!" said Widget. "You can borrow my scarf and wear it as a bandanna if you like?"

"When did you last wash it?"

Widget looked up at the ceiling in thought. "It was snowing."

"So more than six months ago." Tracer ran a paw over his head. "Fine, I'll consider it. Unless there's something stowed away in one of the little cupboards."

The delphox rose from his seat to check the little drawers and doors in the far corner of the cockpit.

"I also suggest dropping your cigars," said Widget. "I sincerely doubt space pirates smoke those things."

Tracer's tail drooped and he scratched his nose, grimacing slightly. "Fine."

Widget's humming filled the small ship as Tracer rummaged through the drawers and cupboard. Tools and metal knickknacks for ship repairs filled one drawer, while others were empty or unexciting. Booklets and papers piled up around him in small heaps as he discarded them to search further back, most of which were user guides for the ship's intricate weaponry. If they were going to sell the ship, then they should probably burn them. Tracer eyed them for a moment, mulling over the predicament before dismissing it and returning to his search. He was soon rewarded by a pair of mittens cut away around the claws. From the shape alone, he assumed they must have belonged to a pokemon such as electabuzz or orangaru. Either way, they didn't fit him. But maybe he could use them...

He grabbed the tool kit from the first drawer and pulled out a pair of tiny scissors. He soon began working away at one of the gloves, cutting it along the sides and removing the cut-off claws. He held his handiwork out in two claws and frowned at it. A long, floppy length of black cloth. What on earth was he supposed to do with that?

"We're arriving at Pulse City," said Widget. "If you haven't found anything by now, you'll have to borrow my scarf."

"It wouldn't take a pokemon with a good sense of smell to know it isn't mine," Tracer muttered under his breath.

Widget laughed and hammered the dashboard with his paw. "I have you know I smell like daisies."

Tracer grabbed the rag in both paws and fastened it over his head at the back. As he returned to his seat, his reflection stared back out at him. His ear was cocked down to the right, and the former glove fastened like a badly fit bandanna. A thick tuft of orange fur stuck up in the middle of it like a candle flame. He licked his paw and tried to smooth it back to no avail.

"Trendy," said Widget.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Tracer. "I look like a fool."

"I never said you didn't." The eevee flashed his canines in a playful grin then pointed a paw at a city in the distance. "Arriving at Pulse City in T-minus five minutes!"

Tracer bit his lip and reached for his cigar. He didn't have the heart to tell Widget that made no sense.

As he puffed away, filling the cabin with smoke, he watched the neon city draw closer and closer. Obnoxious music filled the air filters, drumming against his ears. One of the turrets perched outside the glass dome turned as they passed by, following them closely. But it didn't fire. Just a threat. Something to say 'I see you' even though the ship was invisible to the naked eye.

Tracer raised an eyebrow at it and took a final drag of his cigar. So Pulse City had its own radar system. Duly noted.

Unwilling to fire perchance it was a friendly ship. He expected to find the docks manned to the gills with armed pokemon waiting to see if the invisible ship was a threat. His heart was in his throat. As soon as the cloak went down, they'd be exposed as government officials.

And Widget didn't look remotely scared. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"All right!" The eevee turned the steering stick, spinning the ship around rather too fast in a bid to aim its nose at the docks. "We're here! Get ready to leap off, 'cos I'm lowering the cloak."

Just as Tracer had thought. Several imposing pokemon gathered at the docks, each with their own weapon. Varying sizes, but a majority of them a lot bigger than him. A tyranitar looked out at the sky, trying to spot any sign of an invisible ship, while a sceptile stood beside an aggron, keeping one eye on the ships while chatting to his companion.

There wasn't a single chance he was hanging around to see what happened when their ship was exposed. He leapt to his feet and made for the door, reaching behind him for his trusty stick. Widget struck the dashboard with a paw and back-flipped from his seat, landing beside him with a thud and a mechanical whine as his enhanced skeleton absorbed the impact.

The door whirred open, letting in a cacophony of voices. Angry, curious. Clicks as weapons were raised and aimed towards the government ship. Tracer's heart was racing as he warred with staying aboard it and leaping off into gunfire.

Widget shot past him, landing heavily on the metal floor. A loud clang rang out, drawing all eyes to the small pokemon. One, an electivire, had rushed at the ship with his bionic arm raised, glowing and sparking with electricity.

"Woo! Whaddaya think?" The eevee strutted along the docks past the sparking giant, his tail held high. He nodded to the golden ship and grinned. "Stole her myself."

The electivire's eyes went to Tracer, and the detective nodded at him as he clutched his stick at his side. Refusing to relinquish it until the other pokemon put their weapons away.

"I mean, it was just parked up but I saw a chance!" Widget went on. "Bet ya don't see one of these very often, huh? Put her there!"

He raised a paw to the tyranitar. The space pirate eyed the eevee skeptically, then lowered a rocky paw towards him. Widget slammed his paw down onto the tyranitar's, causing the hulking pokemon to visibly flinch. Then Widget turned away to grin at the other waiting pokemon.

It wasn't a friendly gesture or clownish behaviour. It was a disguised display of strength, and the space pirates knew it.

"Now," he said, "refresh my memory. Who do I sell ships to around here?"

"You're selling this?" the aggron growled, although not in a threatening manner. He looked from the ship to the two detectives and back.

"You bet I am," said Widget. "I reckon pokemon would vomit cash for a ship like this! It ain't often you see government weaponry for sale here, is it? Not your usual retro stuff, or bootleg junk."

"Squirt's got a point." The sceptile folded his arms and looked over at the tyranitar who was desperately trying not to nurse his paw. "We ain't seen government weaponry here in years."

"So who does it go to?" Widget asked. "I've been away for a while, and I ain't lugging this thing into the black market. It's got a funny wheel."

Tracer stared down at the eevee. Still playful, but with a fire behind his eyes. How could he just outright lie like that? And so convincingly? Sure, a reformed criminal blended in a lot better in Pulse City than he himself did, but not once had Widget ever said he'd stepped paw in Pulse City. He'd kept all his conning and thievery inside Meta City and the outskirts.

"I think you're looking for me." A sandslash stepped out from a hut beside the docks, narrowing his eyes on the eevee. "I trade in ships in these parts. You wanna sell that government ship, then I might have a deal for ya."

Widget grinned from ear to ear. "Fantastic! What are you offering?"

The sandslash gestured for them to follow him, fixing the rest of the pirates with a leer. The curious group holstered their weapons - or in the electivire's case, switched them off - then skulked away into the streets.

"You might wanna cloak that." The sandslash nodded to the golden ship.

"Oh." Tracer cleared his throat and pulled the keys from his pocket. "Of course."

He pushed a small button on the control key, and the ship vanished from view like rippling water.

"Now, you're not wrong," said the sandslash as they entered his hut. "We haven't ever seen a government ship here. Not in one piece, anyway."

Tracer's nose crinkled as the sharp smell of oil tickled it, and he looked around the hut. Engine parts, wires and pipes adorned the walls, and heavy duty tools lay haphazard over the floor and the pirate's desk.

The sandslash fell back into a seat behind it and cleared some of the clutter aside with the sweep of a large paw.

"It's a good thing you didn't show up any earlier," he said. "You might've gotten torn to bits."

"Torn to bits?" Tracer resisted the urge to reach for a cigar.

"Aye. Some weird creature showed up just outside Pulse City. Took four ships and a small army to take it out, and it didn't go down without a fight. Took two ships down with it. Space pirates are calling it The Kraken."

Tracer scratched behind his ear and exchanged glances with Widget. "What did it look like?"

"I dunno. Some mutant jellicent or somethin'." The sandslash kicked his feet up on his desk and crossed one leg over the other. "Its remains are scattered over Baud City. Surprised you ain't heard of it, actually."

"We've been pretty busy," said Widget. "Stealin' a ship ain't easy, yanno."

"Yeah. I can imagine. Especially a government ship." The sandslash scratched his nose. "In fact, we don't get government weapons here very often at all anymore. Hunter were one of our main dealers, gatherin' up guns and explosives. But he quit that job years ago. He just deals in small jobs now, occasionally gatherin' weapon parts for our lasers. Nowhere near as insightful. Such a pity."

Tracer folded his arms and leant against the wall, careful to avoid knocking a saw down on himself. "I'd heard he'd dropped out of that. But I thought it were just a rumour."

"Guess you don't spend much time in Pulse City." The sandslash tapped his long claws on the desk. "Because such parts have been like gold showin' up here."

Widget frowned slightly at Tracer and raised an eyebrow. Tracer took the hint and shrugged his shoulders, saying no more. Widget then turned back to the sandslash and inclined his head on one side.

"So you're interested in my little treasure, then?" Widget flashed a grin.

"Aye. For a ship in good condition like that," the space pirate scratched behind his ear as he looked past the eevee, "I think I can offer two hundred and fifty thousand credits."

Tracer's jaw dropped, and a squeal came from Widget.

"You aren't serious?!" the eevee barked.

"I would have offered more." The sandslash shrugged. "But you said it has a funny wheel."

Widget sat with his mouth hanging open, staring dumbfounded at the sandslash. He shook his head sharply, his long ears flapping about on either side of his head, then laughed.

"Oh boy," he said. "The wheel let me down, eh? If it helps, I can fix it in no time flat."

Tracer scratched beneath his makeshift bandanna. Both he and Widget knew full well there was nothing wrong with the wheel. The ship was in perfect health. He wondered if Widget feared that and wanted to rush out and break it with a solid take-down attack.

The sandslash waved a paw. "No need. I can fix a wheel. Is it a deal? Or do you want to try sellin' it elsewhere? 'Cos there ain't no other ship dealers in Pulse City. I'm all you've got. Black Market will offer you peanuts for scraps. I doubt you'd even get one hundred thousand for parts."

Widget shrugged his shoulders. "Nah. It's fine. I'll take you're offer. We're actually looking for a new ship, if you've got one for sale?"

"I've got two." The sandslash rose to his feet and limped towards the back of the hut. "I keep them in my yard, if you wanna follow me?"

Tracer kicked himself from the wall and followed Widget carefully through the obstacle course of ship parts. The yard opened out into a separate section of the docks. Two ships stood looking lost and alone in the vastness. One was in the shape of a feebass, while the other was modelled on an alomomola. Neither of them looked particularly appealing.

Widget sat looking between the two and he raised an eyebrow, stretching the green chip-board tattoo over his left eye.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Yep, this is all I've got in for now," said the sandslash. "Both are in good, working order. I test fly them from time to time just to make sure."

"Both rather girly." Widget sighed and flicked his tail. "Which one do you think, Number One?"

Tracer jolted slightly. Number One? Another part of Widget's crazy act. He looked up at both ships and let his left paw rest in his pocket.

"Do they have beds?" It was an important question, given how much time they'd be flying.

"The alomomola does," said the sandslash. "Although it only has two rooms. A lot of pirate crews tend to build their own ships, or modify them. If you wanted me to upgrade the feebass into a milotic, I'd only charge you the excess from the trade. One hundred and forty thousand credits."

Tracer heard his bank balance scream.

Widget shook his head. "Nah. That won't be necessary. We'll take the alomomola. How much is it?"

"Hundred and seventy thousand," said the sandslash. "But since you're tradin' that ship for it, I can do you a deal. Make it hundred and fifty. And I don't often do deals, but I'm interested in that ship. I wanna know what makes their weapons so effective."

"All right, deal." Widget closed his eyes in a smile and wagged his tail. "The change should fill her tank nicely."

The sandslash laughed and reached into his pouch, pulling out a small computer. "You're overestimating how much she can hold, kid. What's your bank code?"

Widget's ears drooped dramatically, but fortunately the sandslash didn't see. He looked over his shoulder at Tracer with an imploring stare. In their line of work, both their names were known on System Ground. There was every possibility Pulse City would have heard them, and they wouldn't react well to a pair of pirate hunters standing in their little haven. Tracer sighed and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. So the eevee's lie only went so far.

He had to think fast.

He pulled out his own computer and searched through his bank transfers, feeling the sandslash's eyes on his.

There. Defrag.

He quickly read out the code, catching the space pirate's nimble claws flying over his tablet's screen. With a beaming grin, he said 'Done!' and popped the computer back into his pouch.

Tracer let out a silent sigh of relief and slipped his computer back into his trench coat pocket. He'd have to explain to Defrag later and have her transfer the money to Widget.

"I trust you know how to get the panel to recognise your chip?" the sandslash asked.

"Oh yes," said Widget. "That's fairly basic."

"Then she's all yours," said the sandslash. "Enjoy sailing the skies, boys."

The two detectives watched the pirate vanish back into his hut. Once he'd gone, Widget looked up at Tracer and nodded.

"That were some quick thinking," he said.

Tracer clenched his paws tightly and bent over, more from relief than frustration. "How could you not think that selling the ship would mean we might need-"

"Hey." Widget flicked his tail. "Did you think about it?"

"No, but-"

"Then don't jab me." Widget stood up and padded over to the ship. "Let's get on this thing and hot-tail it out of here."

Widget's paws flew over the panel, and the light turned from red to green. He nodded at Tracer to place his paw on it, and once he had the door whirred open. A musty smell greeted them instantly as stagnant air was blown out of the air lock.

"Test fly from time to time my dewclaw." Widget flopped into the driver's seat and chuckled as he eyed the dashboard. "I've always wanted to drive one of these."

"You look oddly at home behind those controls," said Tracer.

"It's just common sense at the end of the day. Not exactly science."

Tracer took the seat beside him and pulled a cigar out of his pocket. "I think we need to talk."

"Oh?" Widget didn't look up. "What about?"

"Did you outright lie back there, or have you been here before?"

Widget shrugged. "Been lots of places."

"You never mentioned it."

"Yeh, well. It's a pretty scary time of my life. I got caught trying to con a space pirate once. Sold him a dodgy laser and he dragged me all the way out here." Widget flashed him a grin. "Had to con someone to take me back down to System Ground. Turns out space pirates are willing to do a few favours if you just throw your weight at them."

"Well, you can switch off your silver tongue," said Tracer. "I'm uncomfortable hearing you lie like that."

"I'm uncomfortable doing it, to be honest." Widget fired the ship's engine up and looked around the cockpit. "Might need a quick top up. Wanna hop out and grab the hose?"

"Sure, if you ring Socket and tell her you just sold her ship."

Widget let out a bitter laugh. "Not on your life. I think I've dodged execution enough times already. Besides, I'm sure she'll understand when she finds out and discovers why."

"You mean after she skins you alive?"

"She'll have to get through you, first." The eevee gave him a playful wink.

Tracer sighed and pushed himself back to his feet. Part of him feared using his own credits would signal Pulse City to his presence. Or Socket, for that matter. Fortunately, the little machine didn't work like that. All it cared about was getting paid, even if it did overcharge a little.