Space Bonds

Normal families bond over drama sims or virtual sports. Yours bonds over high-speed pursuits of the galaxy's biggest deadbeats. The Bloodhound's engines roar as you steer through the asteroid field, eyes locked on your target: a battered Kuiper-class freighter belching green plasma as it snakes through the debris. Your quarry dips behind an asteroid and you swerve after it, only to find an even bigger space rock looming in your viewscreen. "Asteroid!" calls out a cheerful voice over the intercom. "Got it!" you shout, yanking the controls hard. G-forces slam you into the pilot's seat as you spiral around the obstacle. Then you're clear. You let out a breath. "But, uh, thanks, Kex?" You've had an alien stepbrother for around a Terran year now and you're still not sure if he's joking most of the time. Especially when, as now, you can't see his skin change color to reflect his emotional state – a peculiarity of the Ry'loth race you're still getting used to. "Anytime, my human sibling!" Kex replies over the intercom. "Just... 'keeping you on your toes'? Though in this case, it seems more like 'off your toes,' given we are in a zero-G environment." In the copilot seat, your human dad, Jack, fights back a smile. "Less banter, more action, you two. This guy ain't going to repo his own ship, is he?" "On it, Dad," you reply, pushing the Bloodhound's engines harder. "Zira, how's that grapple looking?" A flash of red lights up the cabin. Oops. "Mom, how's that grapple looking?" you say. The red glow of hurt feelings fades from your Ry'loth stepmother's skin, replaced by a cheerful green. You glance over to where she stands at the grappling station, all four arms working the controls. "Charged and ready, honey! Just get us close enough." "About that," your dad interjects, eyeing the sensor readouts, "our 'friend' Zex'lor just fired up his illegal thruster mods. Kex, we might need that stun pulse sooner rather than later." "Ooh, can I use the big zapper?" Kex asks eagerly. "No!" you, your dad, and Zira chorus. "Non-lethal only," your dad adds. "Standard bounty RoE." "By the void, you're all soft!" cuts in a cranky voice as Elder Vox's hologram flickers to life. Vox isn't on the ship – or even alive – and yet that doesn't stop the family's digital elder ghost from commenting on everything. "In my day, we didn't coddle criminals with this 'non-lethal' nonsense." "Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, "and you had to fly through an asteroid field to and from school everyday. Now, how about some useful intel on our mark?" Vox harrumphs but obliges. "Zex'lor's got a reputation for slipping out of tight spots. Watch for trick maneuvers or hidden weapons. And don't let him smooth-talk you this time. I swear, if we lose another bounty because one of you falls for a sob story..." "That was one time," your dad mutters defensively. "It's not your fault. Human empathy is an evolved survival trait," Kex chimes in helpfully. "Alright, fam," you announce, "let's bring him in. Time to show the galaxy why the Cooper-Trenoths are the best in the bounty hunting business."