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Chapter 11
The next morning at breakfast, instead of ordering anything he wanted, Jessie found himself face to face with a bowl of oatmeal, half a grapefruit, and a tall glass of orange juice. Ryder, who'd greeted him as if nothing had happened, had the same breakfast, except for one of those gooey cinnamon rolls on the side.
He leaned over and whispered, "Sorry. I tried to get one for you, too, but they wouldn't budge."
Rake leaned over and gave his own whisper. "We budged on you because you didn't pass out yesterday and sleep until morning." Ryder cringed and blushed at being overheard, and it almost got a smile out of Jessie. Almost.
"Mickey's idea," Stretch said. "Something about growing boys needing a healthy breakfast. We all had it." He shrugged, which proved to be an exaggerated movement, much like his bouncy gait. "It wasn't bad, really. I enjoyed it."
"Speak for yourself," Rake said. "It'll never replace food from home."
Jessie was about to ask what he normally ate, what that food from his home planet was like, but then remembered his sour mood. He glanced over to Ryder, hoping he'd take the bait, but he'd crammed his mouth full of cinnamon roll and wasn't paying much attention. As he watched Ryder chew, a transcendent look on his face, Jessie sighed and looked at his own plate.
He tried the oatmeal. Not bad. The computer had gotten the blend of brown sugar and cinnamon perfect. If he'd have let himself, he would've enjoyed it. He dug into the grapefruit and found it good even though he didn't normally like the bitter-tart taste. This piece must have been grown in sugar.
As he and Ryder finished their breakfast, Coach spoke. "We'll get back in the simulator today. Don't worry, Jessie, you don't have to participate, but you do need to watch."
Jessie stared down hard at his breakfast, but was glad Coach hadn't made a bigger deal out of yesterday than that.
"I persuaded Mickey to take his batting practice with us. You'll both learn a lot just by watching him up close. Stretch and Rake can teach you some things, too."
Rake nodded. "I saw a couple of tweaks we can make to your swing, Ryder. Next time that partial trampoline shot will fly right over the fence."
"Cool," Ryder said with a half-chewed bite of cinnamon roll in his mouth.
"How close are we?" Rake asked.
"We'll be there later today," Stretch said. "We left the wormhole not too long ago, so the station is within range."
"We're cutting it close," Coach said, "but we'll make it in time."
"Are there a lot of wormholes?" Ryder asked.
With his bad mood simmering just under the surface, Jessie tried not to look too obvious about perking up to hear the answer.
Coach fielded the question. "It's estimated that only a small fraction of them have been discovered, which is impressive since there are countless in operation. In fact, the space station is where it is because there are over a dozen different wormholes within a light year of it. It's like a galactic transportation hub."
"Wow. Will there be people or whatever from all over the universe?"
"Nah, the universe is too big," Rake said. "This one caters to the nearby galaxies."
Coach started to say something when the whole ship lurched. Jessie and Ryder managed to catch their plates before they tumbled to the ground. Coach aimed himself into a chair so he didn't fall. Had they hit something? Who was flying this thing anyway?
A voice Jessie didn't recognize came over the loudspeakers. "Space pirates. They snuck up on us. Hide. They're about to board."
Coach stood up and looked at the ceiling. "Find out where Mickey is. Make sure he's hidden."
"He's safe in his quarters."
Coach hurried everyone out. "Rake, get them to their rooms and lock the doors. Stretch, make sure the cargo door is locked. I'll get to the cockpit and see that our distress signal is aimed everywhere. Hurry!"
Rake pushed Jessie and Ryder forward and they sprinted down the hallways to their rooms.
"Are they going to hurt us?" Ryder asked. Jessie's stomach sank. He'd never seen his friend so pale.
"Not if we're locked up. The pirates won't take the time to open secured doors. The distress signals are already out. Coach is just making sure they're answered in a timely fashion."
When they reached their doors, Rake shoved first Ryder, then Jessie into their own rooms. Jessie had hoped they could be together, but Rake didn't give that option. Before Jessie turned around, a tiny jab stung the back of his neck, like a bug bite. His hand flew up there, but he couldn't feel anything unusual.
As the door closed, Rake yelled, "You'll hear the all clear when they're gone."
Jessie stared at the door, too nervous to even sit on the bed. The back of his neck itched right where he'd felt the prick, but he couldn't feel a bump or anything. As he turned to find a mirror, a loud crack blasted from his door. He stumbled back to his closet and hid. Maybe the pirates would look in, see no one, and leave. But Coach, Rake, and Stretch all said they wouldn't take the time. Why choose his room to break that policy?
The sound of bending metal joined the next crack. Hissing voices, muffled by the clatter outside, flowed in, but he couldn't make out the words. He ducked down deeper into the corner and prayed they'd let him be.
A final thud came from the door, and the pirates pushed into his room. "He's in here," a voice hissed. "Look in the back."
They couldn't be here for him. First off, who knew who he was? Second, he didn't matter. Not even a little bit. They wanted Ryder but picked the wrong room. At least if they grabbed Jessie, Ryder would be safe. He was important.
Two big lizard-like creatures pushed their way back into the closet area. Jessie held his breath and shrunk down as far as he could, but it didn't work. "There he is," one said, and the other grabbed him.
"Excellent," the biggest of the lizardman pirates said. "Make sure you have a good grip on him." Even if he hadn't been giving the orders, Jessie would have pegged him as the leader. His uniform, if you could call it that, had more fancy adornments than the others. He also didn't wear a gun on his hip, at least not that Jessie could see. Maybe leadership here was not having to show visible force.
"Get him in the bag and we'll go."
Bag? What? Before Jessie could protest, they lifted him off his feet and shoved him into somewhere dark.
"Don't worry, boy," one of the pirates said. "We don't want to hurt you." Even with the Universal Language-thingy, Jessie had to fight hard through the hisses to understand him.
"The boss has a lot of money riding on the Slammers winning. Your team is the only real threat." That voice came from his other side. Two of the pirates must've been pulling him along in the bag.
Jessie considered screaming his lungs out, but he'd seen too many movies and TV shows where that got the captive in nothing but trouble. Besides, there was no doubt now that they thought he was Ryder. If he just kept his mouth shut, the team could go on and not worry about him being dead weight. Tears sprang to his eyes, but what choice did he have? This was for the greater good.
Click here to read Chapter 12 Part 1
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