A collection of microfiction for @BeyondSol Word of the week where stories are one comment (2000 characters) long:

17 April 2020: Word of the week: Mission

I simultaneously pressed my left thruster forward and the right back to bring myself to a stop outside the window of the NASTY WATER.

"What kind of name is that for a ship?" I said & heard the answering snicker of Pol through the headset.

He was hovering three clicks away in our TriStar. It may have been the fastest ship on the market, but it was still detectable by radar, & Nasty Water had an excellent radar system.

"Ow!" I said as a small asteroid - the only reason I was able to get this close - collided with me.

I lunged forward to grab onto the window seam before I could get blown off course - & blow the whole MISSION! We'd been tailing these sky pirates for weeks, waiting for the opportunity to get close enough to plant the tracking device.

Before another asteroid could hit me, I hit the button to extend the prong with the paper-thin device. I lined it up with the window seam's bolt & hit the button to activate it's magnet. My mind imagined the small click it made as it stuck in place, but I didn't imagine the swelling of my heart in satisfaction.

I laid a hand on the hull, about to push off, when I glanced in through the window. "Black Holes take me!" I swore.

"What?" Pol asked, his voice tense & alert. I reached up & activated my helmet camera. "I'm sending images through now. That cargo they picked up in Mycentia... they aren't smuggling crates of bino-combusters. The intel was muddled. They're smuggling dinosters."

My heart sank to see the small, grey creatures lying listlessly in open crates across the dim room. They were docile, easy prey. Trading them had been banned centuries earlier when they'd almost been hunted to extinction. Their planet had been cordoned off & protected heavily by the Coucil of Galaxies while the dinosters slowly repopulated.

Pol sighed heavily. "This means the corruption has extended into The Galactic Guard. Get out of there, Nye."

I pushed off, ducking an asteroid. "Things just got a whole lot more complicated."

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25 April 2020: Word of the Week: Sector

@BeyondSol Static crackled over the comms. "Cap, that meteor took out our antennae. I can rig something up, but I can't guarantee it'll have the same range."

Captain Marks leaned on the porthole, alternating keeping an eye on the mechanic Halder and gazing out at the twinkling stars that never got old, not even after 5 decades in deep space. As far as she knew, they were the only ship in this SECTOR, so there wasn't a chance to ask anyone for spare parts. She pressed the button to reply. "It would be good to have something in place before we make the hyper-jump back. Even short range to broadcast our identity. We don't want them thinking we're a hijacked ship."

Halder groaned & turned to the porthole. The Captain could see her shaking her head in disbelief inside the helmet. "What's with those military nutjobs, anyway? It seems a bit extreme to seal all the holds with MaxiSeal & blast off the door. Turns the ship into garbage."

But Halder was young. Hadn't seen the enemy sneaking in on hijacked ships and pouring from the holds to decimate entire stations or colonies. Captain Marks had been just a little girl at the time. She'd learned to shoot before she'd learned to read.

"They're just being careful," Captain replied. "So get back inside and start on that antennae. I want to take what Pol & Nye found back as soon as we can."

They were lucky the meteor shower had only taken out the communications antennae but left the rest of the array intact.

A ping alerted her to something on the radar.

"No!" she slammed her hand on the shipwide red alert button & pressed the button to speak with Halder. "Get back inside! Now!" then the ship-wide intercom. "Battle stations, everyone. The Nasty Water is upon us."

Pol ran onto the deck. "They couldn't have detected us during our mission...could they?"

Captain Marks just shrugged & began flipping switches. "Those pirates fight dirty. Get ready."

The crew was up to the task. Their meteor-battered ship might not be.

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2 May 2020 Word: Contact

@BeyondSol "Shields up! Cloaking enabled!" Captain Marks engaged their defences just as the pirate ship Dirty Water materialized on the screen. As she continued to prep the ship for battle, she pressed the intercom to talk to her mechanic, still outside like a sitting duck. "Halder, tell me you're back inside."

Halder's huffing sounded through the bridge. "Almost, Cap. But I really need to get back out here. The hull took a beating."

"We'll log this bit of uncharted space so no one else will come out of hyperjump into asteroid belts with rocks bigger than the ship. At least we only need a few patches and aren't limping along," Captain Marks replied. "So, let's catch us some pirates. You can take the metal you need from their hull since we're going to scrap that ship!"

Halder's shudder almost came through with her loud exclamation. "Ewww! I don't want to use any stinky pirate metal on my - I mean, your - I mean-"

Captain Marks chuckled. "As far as we know, they're the only ship around. Beggars can't be chosers. We won't make it to a base for weeks."

"Alright," she grumbled.

Minutes later Halder ran onto the bridge. She slapped Pol and Nye on the shoulder on the way to her seat.

"Captain," Nye started.

Captain Marks didn't like hesitations like that. "Talk to me."

"We have another incoming. I don't think the Dirty Water followed us. I just think Serendipity smiled on us, and we stumbled on their rendezvous."

Captain Marks checked the monitors. She pulled them back behind a large asteroid. "Let's see who's come to make CONTACT for their cargo."

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10 May 2020 Word: Data

@BeyondSol

Captain Marks took the risk of one last announcement by intercom. It was their best chance of observing the meeting between the Dirty Water pirates and the arriving ship. "Dark protocol is in immediate effect. Repeat, Dark protocol is in immediate effect." Throughout the ship the crew would be racing to shut down everything then sit down and remain as still as possible. Only the essential systems would remain functional, but they made no noise.

As he thrust home the bolt to anchor his chair, Pol whispered, "Captain Marks, one of Halder's surveillance bots..."

Her mind had already been going down that route. She nodded sharply. "Halder, get on it. We need as much DATA as possible."

Halder gave a wiggle of excitement in her seat, "Immediately, Captain."

The tiny bots were disguised as asteroids and programmed to move in a slightly erratic pattern that Halder had programmed from analysing real asteroid fields and lone asteroids that were affected by other debris or whatnot they encountered in their path. This disguised them but also gave the bots freedom to move close to their surveillance target.

The others in Halder's class had laughed because how often would a ship need to do surveillance in an asteroid belt? Ships typically avoided such places for the exact kind of damage their own had suffered.

The insight into the bots design, although short range, was the reason Captain Marks had taken the novice Halder on her crew, against the advice of her fellow spacefarers who said deep space missions weren't for the untested.

Captain Marks had never regretted a day Halder was on her crew. The woman was a mechanical genius & had taken to the ocean of emptiness like a pro.

"Deploy when ready," Captain Marks said.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Halder replied & pressed a button.

They watched the array of tiny bots shoot away. The mechanic's mouth was twitching in an effort not to break out into a grin.

Captain Marks allowed herself a little smile. A hunch well followed.

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20 June 2020 Word: Mystery

Everyone held a collective breath on the bridge as they watched Halder's surveillance bots scatter into the asteroid belt, following the mechanic's commands to make their way towards the unknown ship that was firing its thrusters to come to a stop beside the pirate ship Dirty Water.

The unknown ship had no identification markings on it, something highly illegal. One of the first things agreed upon when the Council of Galaxies was formed was a system of identification for ships. Of course there were always rogues who didn't.

Conscious of the noise she made, any which might lead them to be detected, Captain Marks tapped a few keys to take pictures of the unknown ship and run them against the Galaxy database of all logged ships. While the search ran, she leaned forward as if that would somehow make it possible to see through the hull of the MYSTERY ship. It wasn't of any particular design, could have come from a half dozen planets.

A passageway extended from the unmarked vessel to attach around a hatch on the Dirty Water. "What the-" Halder, the only newbie on the ship, began and was cut off by a hiss from Captain Marks.

Halder cringed. They were in Dark Protocol. No noise. She tapped on her console and part of the viewing screen sent up images coming from her bots. One of them had made its way close enough to see through a porthole.

A collective breath was sucked in at what - or who - they saw.

"Audio?" Captain Marks risked whispering.

Halder nodded and pointed at the screen where waves indicating noise being recorded.

They'd need to evidence to crack this smuggling ring, if that's all it was, because it went much higher than she'd ever suspected.