Gone & Missing

[Toaster]

Sparks jumped into the air as the Inspiration’s portside stabilizer scraped against the docking bay’s wall. The ship settled onto its gravpad with a shudder, its massive shape accentuated by the cramped compartment. With a whistle, Beige leapt out of the opening canopy, his trenchcoat billowing around him like a makeshift parachute.

“Sorry about that!” He shouted over the whine of the Osprey’s engines winding down and nodded his head at the streak of ruined paint that now decorated the wall. A representative, clad in Orbital Spa and Cruise’s iconic gold-breasted uniform, approached the ship, irritatedly glaring at the damage caused.

“Welcome aboard the Hawaii,” he greeted Beige, clearly straining to maintain his professional flair. “What may I do for you?”

“Well,” Beige started, stepping towards the man and offering a grease-stained hand, “I’m looking for someone!”

The rep glanced down at the mercenary’s outstretched hand and, with a forced smile, gently shook it.

“A passenger?” The man inquired.

“Possibly,” Beige grinned. “Probably not.” He reached into his coat and produced his datapad, handing it to the representative. “I’m looking for this charming young lady.”

The Orbital employee studied the PDA’s screen, a picture of Olivia and her ship displayed on it. He furrowed his brows and slowly shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with her,” he said apologetically, looking back up at Beige.

“She was with an independent convoy carrying food here about two-and-a-half weeks ago,” Beige elaborated. “I’m sure she would’ve docked to refuel.”

The representative shook his head again, adamantly.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t take bulk deliveries from freelance contractors. Orbital Spa and Cruise supplies its resorts itself.”

At this, Beige cocked his head, confused.

“So… No transport popped by here?”

“No, sir. I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”


* * *


Beige slumped into the pilot’s seat, defeated. His hopes of quickly finding Olivia had evaporated into thin air. Rubbing his eyes to clear his mind, he leaned back in the chair and sighed.

“Caught all that, Vic?” He asked.

Victor appeared in midair before him, slowly rotating.

“Yes, sir. It appears the Aomori dockmaster did not tell us the truth.”

Beige thought about it for a second.

“No, I think he did,” he muttered, mulling it over some more. “Someone lied to him.”

Sitting up straight again, the mercenary flicked a few switches in the cockpit. The canopy hissed shut around him and the engines sputtered to life with an angry rumble, as though the ship itself was impatient to get back on the road.

“What should we do next?” Victor inquired.

Beige grinned at the holographic orb and spun the ship around towards the airlock, sending another shower of sparks cascading across the docking bay as the wing clipped the wall again.

“We ask Aomori some more questions.”

---

Olivia Sable