Siege of Hrakar IV |[Sarpedon]|[Jiskastya]|

Captain Lek'jauta was grinning to himself, though it didn't look like any grin anyone else had ever seen. His bodyguards were making the same face, and it was creeping out everyone else. Clearly the giant T'Hetan knew something everyone else didn't. The alien clicked and hissed, and the biggest of the alien warriors left the room. Then, with practiced ease, the killer began to speak in a language everyone understood. "I want everyone on the upper decks. Man the guns. Arm the Nullifier. Don't be shy boys, no one can hear you scream..." he spoke flatly, without emotion. He was just repeating what he had heard. T'Hetaneh did not posses vocal chords, but like a parrot, they could mimic speech in order to communicate. This resulted in strange tones sometimes, and a distinct lack of emotion, but the crew that answered to the giant alien had learned to judge his emotional state based on the colour of his crest. Right now it was red, and that meant Lek'jauta was spoiling for a fight.

Surprisingly, though, he and his fellow warriors were still unarmoured. It was supposed to be a sign of respect, but wandering around naked had only struck the crew as strange. It was certainly less intimidating than when they were armoured though. Now it seemed, was that time. The T'Hetan captain waved his arm and the non-T'Hetan crew scrambled out of the war room to allow their leaders to dress. All of them wore armour made of black metal. It was lighter than anything anyone had ever seen, and tougher than the bulkheads keeping out the vacuum. It also absorbed all light cast on it, making it hard to see, since there was no light to tell you it was there. On their heads they wore masks of the same material, though these were not uniform. Lek'jautja's mask swept back over his head, curved and smooth, with no eye holes, just a jaw that he could manipulate with his mandibles. It was a strange mask, and perhaps not as intimidating to the crew, but only because they did not know what it was modeled after. The others wore the black metal skulls of more recognizable predators, but regardless of the shape, the masks all served the same purpose, to heighten senses and clarify signals, allowing already brilliant hunters to become almost unstoppable.

These killers were not armed with the weapons of their honourable brethren though. They wielded wrist-mounted chemical throwers, massive, revolving hand-cannons, and electro-glaives equipped with a pair of sub-machine guns mounted just below the blades on either end. Devastating weapons, and a far cry from the things used by the upstanding citizens of their civilizations. "We're going to have to go back soon..." Lek'jautja clicked, and the others hissed their agreement. There were no T'Hetan females out here in the Black, just desperate freighters towing too much stuff in attempt to make ends meet. The only ends that would be met today were permanent ones, however.

"Guns are manned, Sire. We await your command." came a voice through the intercom, and the captain smiled. He was a warlord, and would be addressed as such. He moved to the little grey box and pushed the button.

"Fire at will. Don't be shy. When they drop, the crane will grab the freight, just don't let that ship transmit its screams." he mimicked into the mic, turning and nodding to his warriors. They nodded back and donned their masks. They then puffed up their crests to interface with the highly advanced tech, and became fully aware of everything in a three-hundred sixty degree arc. Nothing could escape them now. The captain began to hiss, and they all received the results of the echolocation. They all joined in the hissing and spread out, heading for the observation deck. The metres-thick steeglass dome had shattered long ago, but they did not need air to live, they had at least ten minutes in the void before they blacked out. By the time they got there, the ship should be in range.

And indeed it was. They arrived just after the little freighter dropped out of warp-space. The crane was spot on, grabbing the towed barge out of the Black with pinpoint accuracy. But while normally the shock of a sudden drop stunned the crew, that didn't seem to happen this time. The freighter dropped the barge and tried to boost away at engines full. The gunners were slow, and the distress call made it out. Just as the micro-burst transmission got free of jamming range, the ship exploded, having sustained a direct hit from a warp-inversion torpedo. It was strange tech, that overloaded the warp-engine of a ship by reversing the cycle. This meant the dampeners wouldn't engage, resulting in an explosion twice as potent as a nuclear bomb of equal mass, and one that was ten times more devastating in the void. It was like the space equivalent of the Atomic Bomb, but so much more terrifying.

No time to worry about the distress call now though, they needed to harvest the barge and get the stabilizers engaged. The T'Hetaneh pirates jumped, propelling themselves with all of their might, and landing effortlessly on the barge. The first to land powered up his electro-glaive and carved a hole in the barge. The others hopped in and set about clearing the place. There were only ever five crew members, all of them concentrated in one area. Lek'jautja was the first in, and he primed his chemical throwers, heading straight for the crew quarters. They knew what was happening, and were likely hiding. This time, he found them armed, and just laughed. One of them had brought up a massive Slug Thrower. It was a coil-gun that fired a giant ferromagnetic slug as fast as physics would allow. They fired the moment he stepped into view, just as he laughed, and suddenly he was against the wall, still laughing. He was a very old pirate, and he had eaten only the strongest predators as a child, making him much tougher than anyone else these pitiful workers had ever seen. He raised an arm and doused the trio manning the weapon in a virulent concoction of disease. The substance in his throwers was a culture of a very special bacteria that fed on life. Exposed to air, anything alive in it would be consumed. Thanks to their advanced technology, however, the pirates had written this strain not to eat them. And no one but the enemy was to be on the barge now, so they were safe.

The cloud of bacteria was a sickening green that seemed to shift in an otherworldly manner as it devoured the workers. In an instant they were just gone, no proof they existed but the parts of them that had never been alive in the first place. Then the cloud sped off, rapidly dying without food. But it could detect others in the area, so it raced toward them. Two of the pirates stayed to help their captain, while others chased the cloud to ensure it succeeded. Lek'jautja had been slammed into the outer wall of the barge, and even punched a hole in it, leaving him very stuck. One of the pirates cut out the metal he was embedded in, while the other removed his breastplate, which had been caved in by the slug. The captain clicked admiringly at the weapon the enemy had used, and the others agreed. He had fractured all of the plates in his chest, and bruised one of his hearts, but he would be fine after some recuperation. Once he got out of the wall, and looked at his armour and sighed, he would be bare-chested until they had time to synthesize a new one.

"We need to go back now..." he hissed, and everyone agreed, they needed a small coven of females, they were so much better at the science. They might even be able to fix the ship. "Clear it out, get it on board, we're going home." he declared, stalking back to the hole they had come through. Once everyone inside, as well as the bacteria, were dead, the crane would haul the barge on board and the crew could go through it. They would be heading back to T'Het now, hopefully quietly and unnoticed...

The ES Sunstream floated quietly through the void, engines set on low so that only a taste of the blue light that was spawned from the engines could be seen glowing in the back of the ship. On board, there was relative calm. It had been almost a week since their last mission, and the repairs were completed, the tanks full, weapons cleaned and primed, the whole ship was gleaming. This gave the crew a chance to relax, to simply hang together without having to obey the normally strict free-time regulations the admiral imposed.

Admiral Bezdusan was reclined in his office chair, staring blankly at the screen before him. It had been a long time since he had gotten enough time off to do anything solely for the purpose of entertainment, and now that he had the chance he almost didn't know what to do with it. So he started with some relief when the knock came at the door, and he bid his second in command, Lieutenant Escesne, to enter. She was a human woman, thick compared to the General's semi-shapeless bulk, but lean and tough, used to many a hard campaign.

She snapped to attention, saluting her general, before handing him a small tablet on which floated the words of a missive.

"We received a distress signal less than three minutes ago from a transport ship in Quadrant F-22-50, begging urgent aid." She stated. "How do you want us to respond?"

"We go," the Admiral growled, thick tongue shaping around the words with an ease only learned through long practice. "Get us there now, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," she said, then turned on her heels and quickly departed from the office.

Once she was outside the door her pace sped up, and she half-jogged, half-ran to the bridge.

"The General says we respond to the signal," she said simply to the bridge captain. He nodded, reaching out a long feeler to press a button on the board. All across the ship a call to positions sounded. The soldiers of the crew promptly stopped what they were doing and moved to their assigned positions with a quick efficiency that had been drummed into them from many hours of training. The instructions ran through the ship and flickered into life on the instruction boards all across the massive craft.

As one unit the crew moved, and the ship began to turn. The blue light that had been glowing so dully suddenly flared to life, and the ship quickly gained speed, flashing out into the depths of the vacuum that was space within seconds.

Lek'jautja and company were back on the ship, and they had turned about to head home. The navigator had plotted them a very slow course for the next hour or so, but then they would enter the gravity of Hrakar IV a giant planet, whose gravity would slingshot them violently into the Black. They would reach T'Het in a couple of weeks if things went perfectly, because after Hrakar IV were Hrakar V and Hrakar VI, which got progressively more massive. In theory, this should put them at close to warp-speed, and with some luck and a lot of power, the drive would work long enough to get them out of normal space. Then, they should drop out within a day's travel of T'Het, and they should be able to deploy landers and capture some females. The captain and his bodyguard were anxious. It was approaching the mating season once again, and they were getting rowdy, eager to finally have the opportunity to pass on their genes. The dozen of them, and a dozen females should provide enough eggs to make an army. They could easily populate the ship with T'Hetaneh warriors, and then they would be unstoppable. That idea thrilled Lek'jautja to no end, and the room was crackling with excitement as the pirates began to remove their armour.

But just as they had finished, the intercom buzzed to life, "We've got more traffic, sire, and the nullifier is still going..." a technician said hesitantly, and the captain growled before mimicking a response.

"Beat to quarters. All hands to battle stations." he ordered flatly, and the technician replied with an affirmative. Then Lek'jautja turned back to his warriors, and they all nodded, having understood his orders. Armour was replaced and weapons were primed. The signal was getting stronger, whoever it was, they were approaching quickly. Probably a first responder, some light navy vessel unaware of the presence of such formidable foes.

"Uh... Sire... Uh... We're, uh... Out of warp-inverters..." someone said over the intercom, and Lek'jautja growled angrily, having trouble getting a hold of himself long enough to mimic new orders.

"Concussions then..." he ordered, only to hear the intercom remain on.

"We're out of torpedoes." declared another voice. The captain shrieked, deafening the crew members on the other end of the line temporarily, before punching a dent in the wall and replying.

"Arm all the batteries that still work. If we get hit by a single torpedo I'll gut the lot of you. Everyone else to the life boats and prepare to board. Full virus gear." he decided, and he could hear a brief scramble on the other end before the line cut out. "Take no prisoners." he trilled cheerfully to his bodyguard, who nodded in unison. They headed for the observation deck to lead the boarding parties...

The ship backed slowly out of warp-drive, coasting the last distance in a visible speed. They were drawing close to the location of the distress signal, but the alert eyes of the watchtower, looking for what might be bad enough to rate an emergency signal, were not needed this time.

"Holy shit," whispered one of the watchers, as the massive craft came suddenly into view.

Tension on board was rocketed up several levels. They had been expecting something dangerous, but the ship was big enough to contain thousands, if not tens of thousands of soldiers, and it clearly wasn't a friendly.

Admiral Bezdusan levered himself out of his armchair, and stomped over to the wall that overlooked outside. An unintelligible snarl escaped from his lips, as he caught sight of the behemoth. He didn't doubt in the fighting capabilities of his crew, but this was not going to be a plesant battle.

"Get the shields up on the warp-drive!" he bellowed into the intercom, spittle flying and teeth and hands clenched. "Vacuum seals on! They could throw anything at us, and we need to be ready."

He then stumped over to a wall, where an image of the ship was projected. He was not a fighter anymore, but a strategist, keeping eyes on everything going on in the ship, and outside of it.

"Prep a missile, but wait for my command. Get the lasers ready, so that we can counter anything small coming at us." He glared at the ship floating in empty space. This was not what he wanted to be doing right now, especially when backup was so far away. But, until they learned the fate of the transport ship, there would be no leaving.

On a private line, the Admiral sent out a call to the deck. "Send out a comm signal. I'd rather negotiate than fight." The deck captain burbled in agreement, and slid over to the communications system. He was doubtful that their signal would meet with any response, but he was not to question orders. That was not his role in life.

The ship came out of warp space before the nullifier grabbed it, and the crew who knew what was going on started to freak out. Someone got the nullifier shut down and put full power to the lance batteries, while others tried to reach the captain. Eventually they managed it, and Lek'jautja made his way to the bridge, rather than the observation deck. "The shields don't work, sire. We're got plenty of armour, and not nearly enough crew, casualties are going to be light, but with only lances and gun batteries, we're going to need a miracle inside that ship." the Bosun reported, and the captain just nodded. "We're up against an Empire Flagship. Scanners are reporting it's the Sunstream." the man continued, and Lek'jautja nodded again. Then he got what he was waiting for, the comm screen flickered to life.

"Well hello there, Admiral..." he mimicked flatly, removing his mask slowly. "How are you?" he grinned as he finished speaking, his lower jaw splitting in half, his mouth open wide. He tucked his helmet under his left arm and stood casually, a terrifying sight. Clad in his battle armour, with trophies dangling from much of his body, he looked like a savage. "It seems you've run afoul of the Shattering Abyss and her crew of vicious cut-throats. I'm sure you know who I am..." he continued, " Fortunately for you, we're actually just heading on our way, so you're more than welcome to fuck off and die. If you're not up to that..." he turned and motioned to one of the men running about trying to maintain systems, they rushed him over a phial of the bacteria he had in his chemical throwers. "I've been dying to test this new strain of life-eater..." he held up the phial and laughed. The bacteria were originally invented by the empire, used to exterminate threats like the Zentauri Incursion. Lek'jautja had been here, when the Zentauri were put down, that was how he got a hold of this stuff. The Empire had mothballed the project, calling it evil, but he certainly had not. He was certain that the Admiral would be provoked into attack very soon, so he handed back the phial and then turned back to the screen, putting his helmet back on.

"All batteries online, sire! Lances charged, guns primed, broadside achieved!" shouted someone. That one was human, it was deliberate.

"Magnificent! Rake them! Take down those shields! Launch the boarding parties!" the captain mimicked, giving the admiral a nod before he turned away. The screen went black and he headed to the observation deck. All of their operational weaponry might scratch the paint on an Empire Flagship, but this should distract them long enough to get on board. That was the idea at least. If he and his bodyguard could get onto that ship, they could spray it down with their chemical throwers and nothing would be left alive. They just had to get closer, that ship was too far for lifeboats, let alone jumping...

A flicker of distaste flitted over the Admiral's face as the connection reached the comm set of the other ship, but that was the only sign he gave of the revulsion he felt for the disgusting creature. All he wanted to do was spit on the thing, and then cast it into the pit of hell where it belonged.

But he did no such thing. Instead, he listened, stone faced, seeing instantly that negotiations would be no good, and not wanting to give anything away. However, when the pirate held up a vial of bacteria, every line in the Admiral's body tensed visibly. He knew the kind of havoc even a small strain of that could wreak on a ship, especially one as densely packed as the Sunstream.

But, as the screen flickered out, he took just a moment to calm himself down. He needed to think, that was his job.

Something was off about that whole encounter. The whole thing had felt slightly staged. If the weapons were ready, why had they announced it, in such clear Common, when he was still online? Why were they saying to launch the boarding fleets, when they were still too far away for anything but a whole other craft to reach them. If they had such crafts, why hadn't they been launched immediately? No, they wanted him to over-react. That was the only conclusion he could come to. But, those vials of bacteria were not something that could be treated as an imagined threat. If there was even the smallest chance that those were real vials, he would have to make sure that they never got out.

There was no choice, they would have to attack. It was a very delicate balance. A touch too close, and the pirates really would be able to launch a boarding fleet, and get some of that bacteria on board. They would stand no chance then, for there was no fighting against such small, deadly enemies. Too far, and their missiles would not be able to do enough damage to make conflict worthwhile. A fine line indeed.

He opened up the private comm again. "Captain, get us within distant firing range, but make sure we take all precautions to make sure that a boarding party does not get aboard. They have a Phial, and if it gets on board we are all dead." There was a burble of consent, and the ship began to accurately move closer. The Admiral watched them drifting in, keeping a careful eye spread out along the length of both ships. When they were almost in rage, he opened up the general comm.

"Prep penetration fire, hold for countdown. 3" They drifted closer, "2. 1. Fire!" All along the length of Sunstream, small, penetrating missiles shot out. They were designed specifically to puncture through a ship's body, and let the vacuum of space do as much work for them as possible. However, not knowing that the ship was mostly empty, the holes ripped in the hold would not likely do much damage to the overall numbers of pirates.

The captain re-tasked his bodyguard to the secondary observation deck, the one that was still intact. He could direct the battle from there until they got close enough, and he didn't want them dying while they waited for him. Loyalty was all well and good, but they took it to extremes. As he made his way there, he was filled in on the status of the enemy by someone on the bridge. "Sire, the enemy is moving in slowly, scanners indicate that they have missile ports. Shit. Penetrators inbound, please advise." the operator was locking up. Lek'jautja laughed and replied in his usual flat voice.

"Lock down the bulkheads, fire on the missiles headed toward the populated areas of the ship." he ordered. then he severed the link. The ship was big enough that casualties would be incredibly light to none. They had to come about and get closer. If they could bring down the shields of that ship, the lifeboats would get the boarding parties to the docking bays and hell could be unleashed. When he got to the observation, Lek'jautja gripped the rail as he stared out into the black. He watched as a small number of missiles were vaporized. The ship juddered almost noticeably as the vast majority of the penetrators ripped through the hull. "Fucking bastards. We need this ship to fucking work. Goddamn Empire!" was the vague translation for what he had roared. At some point his bodyguard had entered, and they gave him their silent agreement.

With the initial volley dealt with, they had to get closer. He opened up the comm link to the bridge and began giving orders. "All ahead full. right at them. Transfer all boarding parties to the forward assault deck. Scramble the bombers." the warlord demanded, and the men on the bridge nodded. The bombers were bigger, and since they had a bunch of people sitting around doing nothing, this tactic could be more effective. They had three bulkheads between the forward assault deck and the first inhabited area, not to mention the massive assault ram on the front of the ship. Penetrators wouldn't go through that, if they could get going quickly enough, they might force the enemy hand. If they had any kind of super-lasers, they should be primed by now, and since it was in the best interest of the Empire to show the virus they had how the vacuum of space feels, they'd be using it. "Come on you bastards. Just a little closer." he growled. The bombers were actually pretty much useless now, but the slingshots in the assault deck could launch them through the enemy docking port doors, and that would put a whole lot of pirates in the Empire's face while he and his bodyguard jumped over and gassed the lot of them.

"Sire! I'm afraid we're not moving fast enough. We're already in the gravitational field of Hrakar IV, and it's pulling us away from them." said a nervous looking tech.

"Turn about then. make it look like we're running. Oh, and fire the lances so it looks like a giant middle finger as we turn." the pirate lord laughed as the link was severed. This should get the enemy riled up. They still have the virus, and they were running away. Add some insult to the threat and there went the enemy's composure. That was the hope at least...

A deep growl rolled out from between the admiral's teeth, frustrated both because the missile launch seemed to have done absolutely nothing tot he ship, and because, of all the disrespectful actions, the enemy was now fleeing. First they had taunted him, practically daring him to try and fight them, and now they were just running. Well, he wasn't going to let them just get away. Especially not since they had a phial. Perhaps more than one. It would be the end of his career if it became common knowledge that he had let such an enemy just run away.

"Captain," he said softly, a deadly whisper. "Do not let them get away from us."

It didn't matter if this was some sort of trap, his honor as an Admiral said that he could not let them get away. But there was mo point in being rash. "But make sure that we don't get too close. We have to make sure that they don't get a boarding party on us, but we can still fire on them."

The ship flared blue, and began to chase after the enemy.

It was a few minutes, and a few volleys of fire later, when one of the crew-hands on the deck noticed something on the radar.

"Captain," he said, worried. "There is a giant planet just up ahead. We are almost in its gravitational pull."

The captain quickly slid his was over, glancing at the offending monitor. but there was no changing what was being shown. He walked over to the comm system, and called out to the Admiral.

"Admiral, we have a problem. The pirates are approaching Hrakar IV. And, if we get much closer, it is going to grab us too."

The Admiral swore quietly, for a moment completely indecisive. But, the facts told him what to do. At the current path it was on, the pirate ship would crash into the planet. But a tiny readjustment would be all that was needed to send it catapulting off into the Black. And., if that happened, they would be as good as lost to the Empire ship. Even they couldn't track a ship that was in, or near, warp speed.

But if they kept the pirates busy, closed off that window for readjustment, they could send the pirates spinning down onto the planet, trapped in the gravity they had planned to use to their own advantage.

It would be a narrow line before they got trapped themselves, but he was confident in the abilities of his crew, and of his ship.

It was time for another round of missiles, and this time he would need to be careful to watch which ares of their own ship they tried to protect. That would be the area to target.

"Prep missiles," he shouted over the general comm. After a brief pause to allow the prep to happen he took one last look at the pirate ship, committing himself to his course of action. "Wide distribution. Ready, aim, Fire!"