(CONTINUED FROM HERE)

The incoming Alliance vessel opened fire on the pirates. Amador watched on the transport viewscreen as his traitorous crew were bombarded with devastating energy weapons. He knew he had lost the cargo, but there was some justice in the universe if his former friends were to be blown out of the sky.

Warm blood seemed to drip into his eye from the wound on his face. He attempted to blink it away, but found in his reflection that the origin of the bleeding was the eye itself. Red enveloped half of his vision. From his other eye he saw the Alliance ship blast the merc vessel apart, sending fiery debris cascading in all directions.

The comm chimed. A voice said: ‘This is SSV Triumph. Do you require assistance?’

Amador slammed the comm controls. ‘Negative. Thanks for the rescue.’

‘Please confirm your Alliance shipment ID, transport vessel.’

The merc hesitated. He knew he would never escape if he attempted to flee. He glanced over at the sealed door. With blood from his eye trickling down his face, he moved to unlock the cockpit. He emerged into the cargo hold where his terrified hostages were cowering in bio suits. Scanning their faces, he selected a young female who seemed to be assisting the others.

(CLOSED RP W/ @angelfey)

“Stay in the corner, stay down, stay quiet,” Amador advised the huddled, frightened passengers. “You won’t be harmed if you co-operate.”

His men began loading crates into the airlock while he kept watch over the hostages, hefty rifle in hand. Though the vessel was small, it was a valuable target; an Alliance medical transport, full of pharmaceutical supplies and with minimal protection. The raider gang was set to make a substantial profit from this.

As the last crate was carried out, Amador heard the sound of a door sealing shut. He glanced away from the hostages to see his hirelings disappear aboard their ship, along with the cargo.

He made a dash towards the airlock, but it was too late. The raiders had obviously been planning this; the ship was disengaging from the Alliance transport. Amador slammed his fist on the window, watching helplessly as his ship engaged engines and pulled away, taking his crew and bounty with it.

“Shit,” he hissed, running across the cargo hold for the cockpit. “Stay where you are!” he barked at his hostages. “Anyone tries anything, I’ll vent the whole aft of the fucking transport.”