Star-Lore

It was a ship, technically. It had engines. It had wings. It had a hull that hadn't fallen off yet. But calling it "spaceworthy" was like calling a banana peel "good footwear."

The paint was a mess , half-charred black, half sun-faded green, with random splotches where someone had clearly tried to fix things with a spray can. One of the engine casings was wrapped in something suspiciously close to kitchen foil. There were wires hanging out like spaghetti. The windshield had duct tape in an X pattern holding a crack in place.

And worst of all, on the side in crooked metal letters, was the named S.S. Whisperwind

Bulge looked at Freeze with horror. "This is a prank, right? You're messing with me. Classic Freeze mind game. Good one!"

Freeze stepped forward, unbothered, and walked up the ramp of the rusting ship.

Bulge followed slowly. "Okay, so you're… actually serious. Cool. Yeah. I always dreamed of flying in a metal box that looks like it lost a fight to a microwave."

Inside, it was worse.

The cockpit was small and smelled like dust, old pizza, and possibly disappointment. The pilot's chair was slightly tilted. The control panel looked like it had been salvaged from a garage sale. Half the buttons were unlabeled. The rest were labeled in faded marker. There was a cup holder made out of an old bolt.

Bulge touched the wall. It made a hollow thunk noise.

"This thing flies?" he asked.

Freeze sat in the pilot's chair, calm and composed, as if this ship wasn't a flying tin can but a throne room.

Bulge flopped into the co-pilot seat, which gave out a concerning creak.

"I was mentally ready for hyperspeed, blaster systems, AI voice commands," he said. "What I got is… Whisperwind."

The ceiling above him leaked slightly.

Bulge tilted his head to the side and muttered, "Of course it leaks."

Freeze pressed a button.

The ship didn't move.

Bulge tapped the console. "Maybe it's shy."

Freeze calmly raised one hand and tapped the engine panel.

There was a sharp clunk, a wheezing, and a low rattling sound like an old man trying to remember his favorite song.

And then

They lifted off, Barely.

The ship trembled upward with all the elegance of a tired elevator. It made a soft honk sound as one of the landing gears retracted at the wrong time. The overhead panels buzzed. A light popped out and landed in Bulge's lap.

"We're… we're flying?" he said, shocked.

He looked out the cracked side window.

The hangar was moving away. Slowly.

Very slowly.

Like the ship was being pushed by a team of elderly snails wearing slippers.

Bulge stared. "Oh wow. We are really doing this."

The ship passed through the upper exit tunnel, a smooth metal throat lined with guiding lights. Other ships zoomed past overhead, loud and bright. They looked like comets. They looked like weapons. They looked like progress.

Whisperwind… floated like an embarrassed balloon.

Bulge looked at Freeze. "So, uh, not to criticize your vibe, but at this speed, we'll reach Universe 2 in, what… a month?"

Freeze didn't answer.

Instead, a mechanical voice came alive on the dashboard

"Cruise mode enabled. Maximum safe drift speed, 14 kilometers per hour. Please remain calm. Please consider reading a book."

Bulge let out a laugh that turned into a sigh. "Amazing. Just amazing."

He slumped back in his seat, arms folded.

Then added, "I bet you've flown this thing through supernovas, haven't you?"

Freeze didn't nod. Didn't shake his head. Just steered calmly as the ship continued to hum its low, tired lullaby.

Outside, the stars passed slowly.

A vending ship zoomed by with a horn that played classical music.

A delivery drone drifted up beside them, paused, scanned their ship, and then very visibly changed direction.

Bulge snorted. "Even the robots are judging us."

The silence inside the cockpit stretched long. The soft pinging of the ship's warning lights, the slow rotating blink of the navigation console, and the quiet rattle of something loose in the ceiling were the only sounds.

Bulge broke the silence. "Alright. I'll give you this, she may be slow, but she's got personality. Like a stubborn old dog with bad knees."

The ship groaned again.

Bulge patted the console. "Easy, Whisperwind. That was a compliment."

He turned to Freeze.

"You don't say much, huh? That's okay. You probably think in complete case files."

He smiled.

"This is weirdly perfect. You're the coldest detective in all universes. And I'm riding with you. In the loudest, weakest excuse for a spaceship I've ever seen."

Pause.

Then:

"I love it."

Still silent.

Freeze shifted slightly in his chair.