Ashera frantically tapped.
"What is—?"
"I'm under attack—"
*BOOM*
*BOOOM*
A ship, until then masked by the blinding light of Gamma-0, emerged from the shadows and sent a wave of NEON.
The energy shield protecting her ship tore apart with a bluish crackle.
And pierced the hull as if it were paper. The next instant, everything tilted. Alarms blared. Ashera briefly lost control of the vessel.
BOOM
With a horrified gaze, she watched the gaping tear in the hull suck Zrahel into the void of space.
"ZRAHEL! FUCK—"
She reached out to grab him but had to reconsider. Stabilizing her ship was the priority. Otherwise, she'd explode too. Her fingers trembled, her breath quickened, but she silenced the panic.
And just like that, she watched The Fool get swallowed by the void.
"Damn!"
She clicked her tongue in rage.
[ACTIVATED: ECONOMY SYSTEM]
[ACTIVATED: The ship is now under repair / Parking phase]
"How much damage?"
[Two main engines are hit! Approximately 40%]
"Will the automatic repair be completed?"
[Yes. The energy shield is temporarily disabled. 10h 57m 16s…]
Hearing the system's voice, Ashera temporarily relaxed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. But her mind remained alert.
"Where were those attackers? And who were they?"
She tapped on the keyboard again, tracking every signal, the smallest anomaly in the data.
"So, you were here. Bunch of little idiots."
One of the signals displayed clearly: a golden, cylindrical ship, adorned with a long, thin, gleaming stinger on top and the insignia "DarkStick" painted in vivid red. It was orbiting Gamma-0.
"Will she attack again? No… she's approaching? It seems to be pirates…"
...
Onboard the pirate ship
Several extraterrestrial species mingled. They were all in armor, their handguns and plasma weapons charged. They were preparing to board Ashera's cockpit.
Their leader: a five-meter tall guy with dark green, sweat-glistening skin and prominent muscles. His rudimentary clothing was odd, given the sophisticated weapons hanging from his neck. A large single eye was in the middle of his forehead. He descended from an intermediate race known for its appetite for destruction. He was one of the pirates terrorizing merchants in the Gamma systems.
Until he was given an urgent and well-paid mission.
"Move faster! We need to bring this hulk here! And I want her alive! You bunch of idiots, get your asses in gear!"
He roared across the command room, his booming voice shaking the younger ones. He drew his communicator and turned into a dimly lit corridor.
[Is it done?]
A masked voice echoed in his ear.
"We attacked her as you requested. Now we're preparing to capture her."
[If you haven't got her in your hands yet, why bother me?]
The pirate leader, Nochtli, instantly felt cold sweat trickle down his neck. He swallowed hard.
In this world, there were beings far too terrifying. And one of them had just entrusted him with a mission involving Ashera Ibn Asad. She had promised advanced weapons, propulsion modules, and a million Nor (the Intergalactic currency).
Of course, he had accepted. That amount ensured years of pleasure for someone like him—it was a windfall.
But now, his voice trembled with fear.
"I-I sincerely apologize, boss, but I'm a bit skeptical. She's far too powerful… Capturing her? Killing her would be easier—"
"Do you want to die?"
Nochtli turned pale. He stammered, unable to respond.
"I-I- Actually—"
"Do you want to die?"
The voice repeated.
"No, Boss."
[That's what I thought. Just use what I gave you. It'll weaken her.]
The call was cut off without another word.
Nochtli clenched his teeth. Then, slowly, he pulled a vibrating orb from his belt. A sphere pulsing with black-red light. It was the source of the gravitational waves detected earlier.
"I guess this should be enough…"
...
In Ashera's cockpit, an alert popped up. A boarding ramp had pierced her hull, a metallic structure quickly deploying to connect the two ships. Footsteps echoed.
Pirates had entered.
"I'll take the left, and you go right."
In groups of four, each slid into a corridor, plasma weapons in hand. Any suspicious movement, and they'd blow heads without hesitation. She didn't know if she was alone, but if there were others, they'd have to eliminate them.
They searched every corner, every hatch, every duct.
A group of four turned left.
* Metallic noises *
The first, a six-eyed humanoid, raised his plasma weapon.
"Check that chamber."
He nodded, shouldered his rifle, and entered alone.
Inside: silence. Flickering light. A bunk, a sink, an open locker.
He scanned the room slowly, left to right.
A silhouette slipped behind him, silently.
He barely had time to start a half-turn.
When a kick smashed into his left knee.
*Crack*
He staggered before stumbling.
"Ah—"
But before he could scream, a hand grabbed his neck and twisted. The vertebrae in his neck snapped.
His body convulsed. His six eyes remained open, frozen.
Ashera grabbed his rifle. She pressed a secondary trigger and checked the magazine.
"The battery's still full."
"It's an expensive model. You really stripped these merchants to the bone, you piece of scum."
She seized the iron bar leaning against the wall and, with a precise movement, rammed it into his chest. The tip pierced the armor plate with a metallic screech, then sank into the flesh, shattered ribs, and finally anchored into the floor.
A trickle of black liquid escaped his lips, but no scream followed. His throat had already stopped working.
His body began to regenerate, tissues slowly rebuilding around the metal rod.
She pushed harder, driving the bar deeper, until it pierced his heart a second time.
He healed again.
Then died. The criminal didn't have the strength to remove the rod.
And the cycle repeated, again and again, until his quantum number completely disintegrated, leaving behind only a mass of inert flesh, finally unable to react—dead.
Ashera wiped the black blood from her heels, then left. The commander didn't like killing, but when it came to criminals harming others, she killed without mercy.