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"Wait, did you just say you ran into a Ghost Ship?!" I abruptly cut off the rambling Herbaceous Plant. He seemed startled by my sudden shout, his leaves giving a violent shudder before that shrill voice emerged again from the mechanical device beneath his stem. "Yeah, a Ghost Ship. Isn't that news all over the place? You people in Shadow City should have heard about it, right? An out-of-control Empire Warship wandering around everywhere and all that. Quite a few people have seen it—but we were probably the only ones unlucky enough to actually hit it."
Even Sandora became serious. She poked the leaves of the "mimosa." "You 'hit' it? There wasn't a firefight or some other conflict? What exactly happened?"
"Whoa, Shadow City's urban management and neighborhood office deal with this stuff too?" The mimosa bounced about uneasily, swaying his body. "You're really responsible. Much more humane than I expected. Actually, when our ship docked for repairs the day before yesterday, our boss already filed an accident report with the Space-Time Management Center. But since you want to know too, I'll tell you. I'm the ship's navigation monitor, so I know a little more than most."
The plant twisted his body as if preparing for a lengthy speech, then he began, "Our Forest Spirit caravan is a large trading company, unlike those people who carry a bit of luggage in Personal Space and run back and forth through the World Gates at the hub plaza doing small-time business. We use huge cargo merchant ships. Ours was a fine ship. Our boss