Captain Beckett was a private man, but he opened up once you lubricated him a little. He’d just docked at Harrier Station, flush with credits after a long run to the Jovian asteroid belts. He was lubricated indeed.
“That ship disappeared in the belts two hundred years ago,” he slurred into his drink. “It haunts them still today.” Laughter roared, but not mine. I know. I’ve seen the ship.
