Free Outriders by Jay Posey

had a bit of a Russian accent. On other hops Piper had worked on, that would have been a source of friction since most of the Veryn-Hakakuri crews were strictly United American Federation. But out on 773, no one really held original nationality against anyone else. All the unpleasantness was too remote for any of them to really worry about, and the further out you got, the more ridiculous it all seemed anyway.
    “I think there’s something out there, chief.”
    “Yeah? What’s the sensors got?”
    “Well, that’s kind of the thing. They aren’t showing anything.”
    Gennady’s eyebrows crumpled together like a crushed beer can. “Then why do you think there’s something?”
    “I saw it.”
    He crossed the tiny room in three steps and bent over her to look at the display. “Where?”
    Piper pointed out the details on the console as she talked. “I’m showing Cam 61 through 64, composite. So that’s here, looking out that way. But see? Nothing out of the ordinary.”
    “Yeah, so how’d you see something then?” Gennady said, scanning the console and checking its various readouts. “You mean like it showed up on one of these and then went away?”
    “No, chief, with my eyes. Look.” She pointed at the wall-sized projection. Gennady looked up at it like it was the first time he’d noticed it.
    “What, out there?”
    “Yeah. There was a star, and it went out. Something got between it and us.”
    Gennady stood up straight, let out another heavy sigh, and ran his hand over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t get me out of bed because a star went dark.”
    “There’s something there, chief. I can see it, just barely. Look, right there,” Piper said, and she leaned forward over the console and touched the projection. “Doesn’t that look like a dark patch to you?”
    “It’s space, Pip! The whole thing’s one big dark patch!”
    “Well why wouldn’t that… thing, whatever it is, show up on the sensors?”
    “I dunno, maybe ’cause it’s five light years away? Maybe it’s some dust cloud moving through? If the sensors aren’t showing it, it’s because it ain’t a problem. I got early shift tomorrow, Pip.”
    He was just turning around to leave again when the hole in space suddenly glinted, light reflecting off a rough edge for the span of a blink.
    Gennady looked at the projection, and then at Piper.
    “You see that?” he asked.
    “Yes. Did you?”
    “I dunno.”
    He checked the sensors again, fiddled with the settings.
    “Is that a ship?” he said, more to himself than to Piper. She answered anyway.
    “I don’t think so. It looks more like a rock, chief.”
    “Don’t say that.”
    “I’m just saying.”
    “Well don’t.”
    Gennady patted her shoulder three times with the back of his hand, and she slid sideways out of the chair to let him take over. He plopped down and started opening a whole new set of windows, some that Piper had never seen before.
    “ Straussveeja , Gennady ,” the console said in Gennady’s native Russian.
    “Hi Gus,” he said. “Any trouble lately?”
    “ Nyet .”
    Gennady grunted and focused in on the console display, reading a long, streaming block of characters Piper couldn’t interpret. There was a good reason everyone called him chief. After a couple of silent minutes working the console, Gennady finally looked up at the projection again, squinting at the spot Piper had pointed out. A few more stars had disappeared.
    “You ran diags when you came in?” he asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Everything green?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well…” Gennady said as he scrolled through data, “there’s nothing on the charts, so at least it’s not a rock.”
    “Just because it’s not on the charts doesn’t mean it’s not a rock. Could be the charts are wrong.”
    “It’s the latest, crossindexed from Earth, Luna, and Mars. Maybe one of them would miss it, but not all three. Maybe it’s a dead ship.”
    Gennady opened another window on the console and had