An SOS went out that ships of Thranatyr and Humans both caught. BOTH sets of warships showed up at the planet. Who was sending the SOS? Women and children trying to flee. Who were they fleeing? The militant CEO's that were using it as a slave planet. Imagine the CEO's shock when the Deregger warships met the angry ships of Vorax and Humans? -- Anon Guest
There was a plaque on the bridge of the ship. A reminder, said the owner and chief executive of the Space Militia of Greater Deregulation Upper East. A reminder of their ancient and glorious history, that they were busily attempting to reclaim. The plaque held dead words, once uttered by dead people to a dead emperor.
Ave Imperator, morituri te salutant.
They were meant to recite it with their hands over their hearts every time they launched to war. Hank assumed it was some kind of oath to their owner. Some promise they didn't know they were making. Hank always mumbled the generic shape of the words instead of truly pronouncing them.
When it came to death for glory, Hank preferred anonymity and a long. long life. Besides, he'd seen what happened to the people who survived his owner's wars. Between that and death, death was preferable.
Hank knew enough to recognise the approaching fleets as Alliance... and Vorax. The CRC, the Pax Humanis... the unholy and soft permissive Galactics had brought out all their violent and brutal enforcement arm.
Fortunately for everyone in the ship, he was in charge of the emergency shutdown switch.
The others in the fleet were not that lucky. Most of them flew straight towards the hungry maw of death. Hank's crew were helpless, dead in the water, only able to watch as the CRC ships took approaching vessels apart. The writhing tentacles of their Hungry Caterpillar were a far kinder fate than the rapacious grapplers of the Vorax.
Those squid-faced abominations ate their enemies.
The voice of their lord and master carried over all comms. "I am re-initialising activity on all malfunctioning ships! Get out there and DIE for my protection!"
The rest of the bridge crew turned to Hank, and shook their heads. They'd rather face whichever fate reached them first than take on a losing battle against that kind of enemy.
"Fine," screamed their master's voice. "You're all going to die anyway."
The fans circulating the air whined to a halt. No fresh air would be coming to the crew. They would suffer slow hypoxia as the enemy headed directly towards their master's private yacht.
Hank watched it all unfold as the air grew stale and sour. He watched a Vorax vessel devour their master's ship. What he believed to be his last breaths were as a free man.
The last thing he remembered was the sight of an approaching CRC warship as the last of his strength left him. He never deserved anything that happened to him.
None of them did.
He woke to clean air, a soft bed, comfortable clothes, and a warm meal waiting for him. Hank would be learning many things about lies and the ones he'd lived by.
[Photo by Jacinta Christos on Unsplash]
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