A replacement port security vessel glides up to me and hails onscreen. I accept.
“Deimos195, this is Lunar Security team Dragon Thirty-one to your starboard side. Please state your reason for requesting entry, your pilot registry number, and your certification as private security.”
They hover like a set of pinchers with a bubble between them. If I tried to make a run inside, they could pierce the ship, rotate and sandwich me in their grasp, or take me out from the front like a reverse repossession, targeting my engines with destabilized grenades in the weapons mounted to their long decks. I see it clearly as MONA flashes their capabilities over my screens. MONA then pulls up details about the team members. I see their faces, rank, and their bios.
“I am assigned as a personal guard to Zariah Landing. Pilot certification: 25947Dl691.”
“Elix Isorvas,” they call back. “Holy shit.”
A face blinks on my screen with a green bracket. MONA has matched voice patterns.
“Something wrong, Rory?”
“How do you know my name?”
“Private security badge SRTBW5691. It’s kind of my job,” I reply.
I hover in space, watching the lights beside the gate, hoping they turn my favorite color.
“You’ve been in battles all over the galaxy,” Rory says. “Special Forces, Nebulous Empire Recon, Medical Rescue.”
“I’m a multipurpose operator that just works personal security now.”
“Yes, of course. What color is the planet Aterna?”
“Yellow. Gold in the winter.”
I’m not sure what that question was referencing for him, except maybe to see if my backstory checks out.
“What does Zariah say is her favorite food?”
“Cheese. It’s hard to come by in space. She prefers mozzarella sticks, no sauce, extra garlic.”
“And your ship, are you carrying any weapons?”
“Only what is necessary to protect my client.”
Communication falls silent. I sit and wait, watching their ships, anticipating an attack. I don’t know what’s taking so long and fear they’ve contacted Zariah only to have her deny my assignment to her.
The lights flash green.
“You are cleared for entry. Please hover to the rear of the complex, opposite the race fields. Look for the gardens with the fountain. A light will switch green above your designated dock door.
“Understood. Thank you, Rory.”
As I reach for my throttle, he comes over the coms again.
“One more thing.”
I pause. “I’m listening.”
“You’re a target here.” His tone suggests it’s a warning, not a threat.
I sigh. “I’m a target everywhere.”
“Seems like a bad plan for private security.”
“I have my ways of dealing with it. Now can I get inside? My Protected is in distress. I must check in with her. Unless you need something else.”
