Free MoonRush by Carolyn McCray, Ben Hopkin Page B

Buton spoke. “I think that we should take a moment to evaluate the life choices we made that brought us this…karma.”
    Cleo found her voice next. Buton watched as her jaw hinged up and down in several unsuccessful attempts before croaking out, “We’re gonna en trust our lives to this pile of…of…junk?”
    Jarod pulled himself up to his full height. He also covered his tanned face in the snake - charmer smile that Buton had come to know so well. “Come on, guys. I’ve done my homework.” He gestured to the yard around them. “This is a certified launching facility, and all our paperwork’s in order.”
    Even Rob, ever ready to leap before he looked, seemed to think that this plan of action left something to be desired. “We’ve got until Friday. Maybe we should spend a little more time shopping around.”
    “There’s no shopping!” Jarod blurted out. Everyone swiveled in his direction. He hemmed and hawed a moment, clearly bracing himself. “I paid cash.”
    Cleo went rigid. She looked exactly like a panther prepared for attack. Her voice slithered out of her mouth in little more than a whisper. “You did what? ”
    “ Paid c ash. Up - front.” The smallest hint of an apology sounded in Jarod’s voice.
    From all that Buton knew of Cleo, he was more than impressed by her current restraint. It was also a distinct possibility that the restraint she appeared to be exercising was actually the beginning stages of shock. “You were supposed to lease a ship.”
    At that, Jarod’s back went up, as well as the pitch of his voice. “Listen, I said I’d get a ship. I got it.” He continued with no little amount of heat, “Hell, the price even included a pilot.”
    As if to punctuate his statement, a little person sauntered across the launchpad, giving a nod of his disproportionately large head to Jarod. He was whistling, as far as Buton could ascertain , “Heigh ho. H e igh ho. It’s off to work we go.” The little man arrived at the ship, and after trying and failing several times, managed to clamber aboard. Silence reigned supreme amongst the Rogues.
    After many long moments, Cleo cleared her throat, her voice radiating quiet menace. “Jarod?”
    “Hey, c’mon!” Jarod retorted. “Since when do we Rogues judge a book by its cover ? ” He looked around, seemingly seeking support , and got a few dropped gazes as recompense. He continued, “Look at us! Who would’ve guessed we’re like the double-oh-sevens of treasure hunters?”
    Buton admitted to himself that, in spite of his misgivings, Jarod was correct in his assessment. The group surrounding him was indeed the cream of the crop. He could think of no team that had more of the specialized skills to achieve their interstellar goals than the Rogues.
    And if Buton were to be fully accurate in his own self-analysis, his skill set would be even more fully utilized in space than it was out in the ocean. His background in astrophysics, while an interesting topic to break the ice with visiting reporters with whom he did not really care to speak, had been…underutilized up to this point. Yes, it was only one of his seven degrees, but it was one of his most favored.
    And while theoretical knowledge was fine for the classroom, Buton had secretly harbored a desire to test himself against the vastness of space. This was the perfect opportunity.
    Additionally, Jarod spent the money. It was gone. Mourning its loss was the idiomatic equivalent of crying over spilled milk, an activity Buton could not condone. It was time to move forward with a choice that they had all made already. He broke the lingering silence. “I’ll run quick diagnostic s on the computers and make sure our equipment can integrate.”
    Buton’s gaze went to Cleo, whose furrowed brow clearly stated that she was not ready to give in at this point. Having seen the futility of further arguing, Buton looked for another answer. How did others deal with similar situations?
    A glimmer of an