Mason groaned in relief as he dropped into one of the big comfortable recliners at one end of the Pit. The only lounge on the ship due to its size, the Pit also doubled as an extra medical bay or even a barracks when the shit hit the fan.

Jayce looked over at him, and held out a bottle. “Long day, boss?”

“You should know, you were there too.” He grabbed the bottle and downed half of it in one swallow. The cool liquid slid down his throat like silk.

“Ah yeah, well,” Jayce settled back into his own recliner, the footstool kicked up, like he’d taken root there yet Mason knew he’d signed off duty less than half an hour ago. Somehow he’d managed to shower and change since then, his slicked back hair still damp. “I just do the working. Don’t have to deal with the paperwork, so it’s all good.”

“Yeah.” Mason dropped his head back, resting against the well worn leather. “Tell me about it.”

They’d been following their patrol route for days, but hadn’t picked up any leads, not even with RJ’s extensive contact list. He turned his head, looking around the lounge.

“RJ not in yet?”

Jayce shook his head, then paused as he rooted in the thigh pocket of the battered combats he was wearing and pulled out an equally battered padd—Older design. Not Starfleet—to check the time.

“Said he’d be in right Iabout now actually. Said he wanted to talk to his sister about a possible lead on our lost captain.”

He went back to flicking through the controls on the mediafeed on the screen on the opposite wall. “Bloody hell, this comms crap is beginning to get on my nerves and no mistake.”

“What are you looking for?” Mason drained the rest of the bottle and looked down between the two recliners. Jayce had come prepared. There was a chiller down there, filled with more bottles.

He shrugged and reached for another bottle without guilt. Human alcohol wasn’t strong enough to give him more than a mild buzz.

“This band I’ve been following,” Jayce replied, waving at RJ as he appeared in the doorway over the other side of the room. “The Screaming Helltoads. They’ve only been around a couple of years, but they’re good. Like seriously good.”

“Yeah? What genre?” Mason asked, nodding to RJ as he dropped into the seat next to him. Leaning down, he handed over a bottle. “Any luck with your sister?”

“Kind of. She was in the middle of a drop, so she’s gonna call me back. Said she’d heard something” RJ twisted the top off the beer and took a long swallow. “What’s Blondie up to?”

“Screw you, pretty boy,” Jayce threw back absently, glaring at the screen. Then he thrust a fist up in the air as the screen cleared and a logo appeared on the screen. A cartoon toad with horns. “YESSS! It. Is. On!”

Mason slid a glance sideways at RJ, who didn’t look at him, as classical music filled the air, almost deafening everyone in the lounge. Jayce muttered a sorry and dropped the volume a level.

Mason glanced at the screen as the band appeared and froze. Next to him RJ sat up, an equal look of shock on his face as they watched the lead singer, all hair and tattooed skin alternated screaming into the mic with crooning.

“Fu… is that…“ RJ trailed off.

Mason nodded. “Looks to be.”

“Did you know?”

He shook his head. “Not a freaking clue.”

Jayce grinned as he glanced over at them. His smiled wavered a little.

“Okay, what am I missing?”

“That,” RJ waved at singer on screen with his beer. “Is our by the book, stick up his ass, taskforce CO.”

“FECK!” Mason sat upright as the camera cut to the drummer. “I do not fecking believe this!”

“What?” RJ looked over at him.

Mason growled, eyes narrowed dangerously on the screen. “Not only is that Barrington, but that—“ He pointed at the blonde-haired drummer.

“Is Enna, my baby sister.”