The smell was subtle at first but grew stronger as Pick and Wrench wound their way through the ship's narrow passages. Beneath the smell of engine oil and electrical discharge, something was growing more prominent. It had a familiarity to it. Something Pick recognized but was subtly different.
Meat...it smell like raw meat. He'd been around enough marketplaces to recognize the odor. It was something you only caught near the end of the day after the goods had been sitting out in the sun all day. That was when you could get the best price on the choicest cuts, as long as you were willing to risk food poisoning if you didn't cook it right.
It wasn't something he should be smelling on an abandoned ship in the emptiness of space.
Gage was standing outside the doors leading to the cargo hold. Beside her, Rex was retching into an empty box with great heaving gasps. Wrench gave her a questioning look, which she returned with an uncomfortable shrug.
"He went in first. Caught him off guard, I guess," she said.
"Is there anything in there worth retrieving?" Wrench asked.
Gage shook her head, "Already checked it out. Nothing in there but...well, nothing we want to take with us."
"I'll take the kid back to the ship."
"No," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Captain wants him to see it."
"Why?" he asked. "It isn't necessary."
"Captain thinks it is, and so do I. He needs to know."
Wrench's face twisted into a grimace, but he nodded, "I'll take Rex back to the engines. He looks like he could use a change of scenery. Plus, he's got bigger muscles than our little thief here."
"I'm not little," Pick protested, "And I don't like being talked about like I'm not here."
They ignored his protests, which he chose not to take offense at. Wrench put a hand on Rex's shoulder and led the pale man away from the cargo hold. Gage turned to Pick and opened the door, "Go on."
Pick hesitated, but proceeded through the door. He had already sussed out what was beyond the doors, but they seemed insistent on him seeing the dead crew anyway. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen a dead body, so he wasn't sure what they were hoping for him to get out of it.
He pushed into the room cloaked in shadows and flicked on his light.
Bodies littered the room. A dozen...no...a dozen and a half. They all lay on the deck, hands tied behind their backs. Shot at short range, he suspected. Taken prisoner and killed in cold blood. What surprised him was that most of the bodies were children.
Six adults and twelve children were sprawled on the floor with their blood painting the walls. Pick was no investigator, but if he had to guess, the children were shot first.
"Why would other pirates do this?" He asked. "I didn't think you did child murder."
"We don't," Gage said as she moved in behind him, "See how the wounds are cauterized around the edges?"
"Yeah, so?"
"The amount of blood isn't enough. Most chest wounds that big...we wouldn't be able to walk without stepping in blood."
"And?"
"There's only a few weapons that make wounds like that. My bet is X04 Wraiths were used."
Pick blinked, "That sounds familiar, but I'm still not putting the pieces together."
"Black Palace issue, Pick. The Black Palace military did this."
Pick wrestled with that revelation for a moment before speaking again, "But, why? They're kids. What's the worst thing they could have done?"
"If you broke the law it doesn't matter. Out here, where no one can see what happens, they'll just as soon shoot you dead as look at you. It's already next to impossible to get justice on the planets. If they catch you doing something they don't like it's less paperwork to shoot you and say you were rebels than arresting you."
Pick turned to look at her, "So, why are you showing me this?"
"Because it's important to know what we're up against. You're part of a pirate crew now. Getting caught means getting shot in the head and left to rot floating in space."
She looked him in the eyes, her face hard, "Mistakes cost lives. And not just yours, all of us. We live and die together as a crew."
Gage laid a strong hand on his shoulder, "Don't roak up and get all of us killed, yeah?"
She patted him hard, then gave him a little shove, "Get back to the ship. We'll pick through the engine for spare parts and be on our way."
"There's nothing left on the ship other than that?" Pick asked.
"Just clothes, personal effects, and stuffed animals," she said, her tone somber.
Pick nodded and looked back at the bodies one last time before turning to leave the ship. He managed to hold back the tears until he got back to his bunk.
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