Run

Plans. Lore and Char were stood around a table, a holographic model of a star system floated between them. Lore traced a line from the fourth planet, past a satellite ring and out of the system; they then drew another line along side the first. It drew close to the original line, then intercepted it; it followed the line for a time before splitting and taking an escape route perpendicular to the original. Char modified the route slightly, choosing a different point of interception. Lore nodded.
“What’s going on?” Lore asked.
The Hologram paused the memory. “Lore and Char have performed a series of raids on The Protectorate’s outer rim worlds to varying degrees of success. Today, they’re planning their biggest and possibly most important mission: They’re planning to siphon C-Sixty from an active transport convoy, straight from the source.”
“The source?” Lore looked at the system.
“That’s the Rexel system. Its a key system in the creation of C-Sixty. Each planet is mined dry of any carbon which is then refined into its more useful form of C-Sixty.” The Hologram started. “This convoy belongs to The Protectorate, after they muscled in on the local factions to take fuel from their refineries rather than buying it.” The memory continued.
“We ready?” Char looked to Lore. They nodded. “Come in.”
A bipedal hammerhead shark entered their room. It walked towards them, supported by a pair of crutches; its head was encased in a glass sphere, filled with water. “So, humans, you claim you have a proposition for me and my people.” It took a deep, laboured, breath in; thousands of tiny bubbles fought their way out of its gills. “Will you be able to get me the fuel my people need?”
Lore nodded. “We should be able to, and more.”
“If you are as good as your claims, then you will have made a friend of The Flad.” The Shark nodded. “Any fuel you bring back that is surplus to our needs, we will provide you a ship to burn it.” It held out a fin-like hand. Lore slapped it with the back of their own hand before bowing.

Their ship was moving close to the speed of light as it entered the Rexel system. The fuel convoy was heading towards them at a similar pace. Char held the ship steady while Lore donned their environmental suit and prepared to walk along their own hull. Char gave them the thumbs up as the external airlock opened. The differential pressure sucked them out but their line and the electromagnets in their boots pulled them back to the hull. Slowly, Lore walked along their ship; once they reached the top, they unlatched the line from their hip and held it ready. Char changed their trajectory to bring the ship in closer to the convoy’s projected path.
“Mauve, come in.” Lore tapped at their helmet.
“Reading you boss.” A gravelly voice came over their speaker. “Pulling up nice and close.” The Convoy aligned itself with their ship. “Matching course and relative speed.”
Lore took a moment before jumping. Their boots pulled them from their ship to the convoy. A few shaky steps later, Lore was siphoning C-Sixty. Char suited up and joined them with a hose of her own. She joined Lore then jumped to the next tanker in the row. Her hose hardened as the fuel started to flow. They continued to leapfrog, from ship to ship, moving their own vessel in silence until a crackle in their helmets broke that streak.
“Sir, we’ve got a problem. There’s a Protectorate ship approaching quick and they’re coming our way.” Mauve shouted.
“We’ve got enough.” Char returned.
Lore nodded. “Let’s get gone then.” They tapped their wrist, Char followed suit.
Pipes disconnected, they broke away from Mauve’s ship and exited the system on the pre-arranged vector.
“Did they see us?” Lore tried to get the scanner working.
Mauve’s voice crackled more than it had, fighting to cover the growing distance. “Doesn’t appear so. We got lucky with an automated drone.”
“Safe travels then and good luck with that kid.” Lore chuckled. “See, they don’t always go wrong.” Char’s face told a different story.

“How did they know we’d be after that shipment? How did they know how much we’d need?” Lore paced around the bungalow. “It’s just too neat. We get enough to pay the Flad and fill our own tanks twice…”
“You don’t think The Oracles might have something to do with it?” Char sat back in her chair.
Lore shook their head. “No… No.” Lore paused their pacing for what seemed like an eternity but was closer to a minute. “But… Maybe…”
“Care to clue us in?” Char nursed her head.
“Crait’s toying with us. Each mission, they’re getting closer and closer to us. They missed us by a few hours on Sade, an hour on Gorgon, ten minutes last time and a minute or so this time. They’re playing with us.” Lore sighed. “We’ve got to do it now or we won’t be able to do it at all.”
“Do what?” Char looked at them expectantly. “We’ve got a ship and enough fuel to go anywhere but that’s about it.”
“We’re going to Quatarr.” Lore’s tone sucked the air from the room.
They remained in silence and Lore thought the memory had paused until they saw Char blink. The Hologram sidled next to them. “Quatarr was always the endgame but neither of them expected to get there so quickly. They’re right though, Crait is playing with them, they’re just wrong about the how. They’ll find out eventually.” Cycle.