Open Space and Hyperspace

The meal was over. Eralam had survived. Somehow, he had managed to keep up a somewhat steady stream of mindless chatter throughout the meal, despite the fact that his conscious mind was nearly blank with panic. If he had been endowed with a nervous system, he would have collapsed long ago. He managed to stagger to his feet.

"Gosh, that was a lovely meal. Well, time to go do manly things."

The Shard didn't quite sprint out of the room. He had just enough dignity left to resist that particular impulse. Once he was out of the galley and the door had closed behind him, however, he tore off down the corridor so fast that his footfalls left dents in the floor. Within seconds, he had reached the bridge and sealed the door behind him.

"What in the hemorrhaging fuck just happened?"

Well now. That wasn't creepy. Not creepy at all. Eralam just kinda stared at Kuroro for a minute, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He was fearful for a minute that she might try to hug him, which would lead to a trip to the infirmary, but no. She just stood there, staring right back. This went on for over five minutes before the Shard finally gave in and spoke.

"So...bought any good knives recently?"

Eralam shrugged.

"Lightsabers have their purposes, but they are definitely not subtle. On the whole, I'd prefer to have a knife."

By now he was sinking into more comfortable territory: weapons talk. It's a default that many soldiers fall back on when at a loss for anything else to say.

The Shard drew his phrik dagger by way of demonstration.

"It might not cut through as much, but at least it doesn't hum or glow in the dark."

It was the bustle and thrum of a bridge crew that surrounded Raithe as he sat, eyes closed and foot rhythmically tapping out the time, in the central chair of the bridge, which was really more of a throne. Force, but he's arrogant. Everything he does is aimed at making him look like some kind of deity. It's obnoxious. But it does serve a purpose. Sometimes it's necessary to engage in theatrics. His thoughts, now on the proclivities of his former employer and the man who so generously 'donated' this ship to his cause, quickly shifted back to the matter at hand. They'd towed the asteroid into place hours before, one large enough to create a mass shadow but small enough that it could be easily destroyed with the few warheads they'd planted on and within its surface when the time came. It won't do to be pulling in more fish than my net was meant for, will it?

His eyes opened and he glanced at the three dimensional map that floated before him, and the hyperwave tracking data it displayed. The small red blips tracked a course all the way from Onderon to just shy of his current location within the edges of the Hapes consortium, deep enough that the border patrols would take hours to respond, yet not so deep that the core defenses would be any faster. He would have preferred it if the tracker gave him a continuous signal, but anything longer than a microsecond burst every twenty minutes would be certain to be detected. Such are the woes of piracy and revenge...

Satisfied that all was going according to plan, Raithe turned his eyes to the scene outside the viewport, the mists shrouding the darkness of space in hues of pink and red and orange, shifting and swirling lazily through the cosmos as they concealed their myriad dangers behind a veil of indescribable beauty. How very much like the people that reside here...

It had been just over nineteen minutes since the last update from the hyperwave tracker when he rose from his throne and strode through the projection to stand at the forward viewport. It was only the technological aspect of the ship's cloaking abilities that was activated, hiding them from sensors and scanners of all kinds yet neglecting to shield them from the naked eye, but that was necessary. He needed the extra power for weapons and shields, or he would in a few moments time. The shadow of the asteroid behind them would be enough to hide the ship and its darkened hull from the eyes of their prey, at least until it was too late, and the lights adjacent to any viewport had either been deactivated or turned a deep red, leaving no glaring lights to identify them.

It was then that she appeared, her ship and its escorts ripped from hyperspace by the asteroid at his back, still flying in perfect formation. As if on cue, the holosuite behind him chimed an update from the hyperwave tracker, adding their new position outside the viewport to the dim projection. Right now they'll be confused, but their training will kick in once the initial alarm wears off. His skin crawled at the thought of all those women scurrying about, barking orders to the men they had no business commanding. He had nothing against women in general, but the arrogance of those that originated from this particular portion of space made them little better than chattel in his eyes, fit only to be shown how inferior they really were.

He would have given an order then, but he knew that his crew would do their jobs regardless, and watched placidly as the main guns erupted to either side of him, over-sized ion cannons leading the charge as they smashed through the shields that had been raised to protect the escorting nova cruisers, followed immediately by a pair of turbolaser strikes, each powerful enough to wholly vaporize the asteroid behind him. A grin spread across his face as the bridge of each of her escorting ships was reduced to nothing more than bits of slag drifting through space.

The missiles came next, four thin trails behind a glowing nimbus of destruction as they streaked out from beneath him, driving hard into the hangars of the nova cruisers before releasing their payload, ripping each ship into three new pieces with no more combat utility than his pet asteroid. Only then did his attention turn to his true target, and he watched as the ion cannons turned their formidable power on the battle dragon's shield generators, while ionic warheads simultaneously painted lines across the sky in pursuit of her weapons control and propulsion systems. It won't be long now.

Return fire peppered uselessly against his own shields, and proton torpedoes were plucked out of the sky by point defenses. With each successive impact of his own weapons, the answering fire waned, and true to his word it wasn't long before it had ceased entirely.

"Bring us in."

Dormant engines flared to life as the hunter began to approach its prey, the thousand meter ship dwarfing that of the uptight princess, it's wings stretched wide as it closed in around her. Soon, they would establish a docking seal and flood the ship with men who brought little more than death and slavery. All those proud, haughty, disgusting females, defiled, ravaged, and enslaved by the very gender they so despised.

He could hardly contain the glee that roiled inside him.

When the docking hatch confirmed its seal and the access-way slid open to reveal double rows of hapan soldiers to either side of the airlock, he had very decidedly not expected their weapons to be holstered. Well that's new... He took three steps inside the ship, then spun in a circle as his eyes skittered from soldier to soldier, the tails of his longcoat flaring in response to his motion.

"A welcome party for pirates? Well now..." A woman who wore the insignia of captain stepped forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak Raithe silenced her with a finger on her lips. She immediately turned a delightfully bright shade of red, but managed to avoid inciting an incident. "Can't let that go to waste, can we? Captain Miron!" A humanoid feline with greying fur strode forward through the throng of troops still within and on the other side of the airlock.

"Aye, Sir?"

"Would you be so kind as to relieve these lovely ladies of their weapons?"

"Aye, Sir.

"Excellent! Don't be shy about the armor either. Never know what customizations they might have built in..." a not-so-sly wink back at his men. "...if you know what I mean." That glee he could barely contain earlier seemed to be seeping out of its own accord, now that he was actually on the hapan ship and they'd all but surrendered to him. "Oh, then send teams to secure the command stations and disarm the rest of the crew."

All that done, he pulled his finger from the lips of the hapan captain and leaned in close, until his breath caressed her ear. He was pretty sure it would drive her just as crazy as being shushed by a man had. "Now tell me, captain, where is my princess?" The words were whispered, loud enough only for her to hear, and he was unable to hold back a grin at the sight of her already crimson face turning a shade or three brighter as he leaned away. It took at least seven seconds for her to compose herself before she could reply. When she did, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and a "thanks for playing, luv" before sliding past her and heading for the VIP suite, slapping and pinching a truly unfair number of asses along the way. Anything to make a point, amirite?

When he arrived at the princess' chambers, it was alone. He knew they knew resistance would be fatal and obedience was the only way to survive, and any chance he got to rub it in their faces was a chance he would take, especially if that meant showing up to a meeting with a princess and twelve guards all by his lonesome. 'Sides, she needs to understand who here is the one with all the power. His head peeked around the doorway first, quickly followed by the rest of him as he sauntered into the room. He made a leisurely stroll around the room's perimeter, taking stock of each and every one of the female guards as he did, then looped back around to the far end of the table, where he took the seat directly opposite the princess. Thus far, she'd simply continued her meal as though it was business as usual, opting not to speak while he did his thing.

Solid negotiation tactic, that. Makes it seem like I'm the one trying to gain her approval if I speak first. Like she's the one with the power. He smirked at that thought. She could play all the games she liked, but it wouldn't change the reality in front of her.

"You there..." He gestured with a finger, taking in the assembled guards as he hoisted a booted foot up onto the table, then followed it with the other as he crossed his legs on top of the undoubtedly priceless crystal dinnerware. "...take off your weapons and pile them on the table here. And you..." This time his finger indicated the princess herself, and his eyes narrowed as the fork hesitated halfway to her mouth. "Off with the cloak."

"Alrighty then." He nodded as if something had been confirmed, then dropped his feet off the table and sat up straighter, shifting about in the chair as if to find a more comfortable position. "I guess we do things your way." He grinned again, genuine joy filtering through the smile, though from where it came was impossible to say. "My name is Killian Raithe. I'm the commander that just wiped out your escort and took your ship in under ten minutes. If I die here, this ship and everyone on it will be destroyed. If you refuse to acknowledge me, this ship and all her crew will be destroyed. If you continue pretending that you are in charge, this ship and all her crew will be destroyed. If even one guard so much as raises a weapon in my direction... well, you get the idea."

Of course, he didn't actually expect words to sway her. Her lot were stubborn like that. So he settled back in his chair as though he had finally found that comfortable spot, withdrew his DE-10 from the holster on his hip, and fired a single bolt between the eyes of the guard nearest to him on his right. The thud of her body hitting the floor coincided perfectly with the sound of leather on metal as the pistol returned to its housing. "Weapons and cloak on the table, please." He made sure to accentuate the final word for her.

"Heh." Just as cold and heartless as her grandmother. Though he was clearly unsurprised by her lack of concern for the lives of her guards, there was a small part of him that had hoped she would be different. That somehow she would prove to be a better person than her ancestor. It was a fool's hope, and you knew it. Unfortunately for her, the only thing her grandstanding coldness did was give him permission to drop any pretense of civility. Which was really bad because the larger part of him wanted nothing more than to beat her to death with his bare hands. Not yet, though. First, I break her.

"Not long from now, this ship will be reduced to ash and debris whether you're on it or not. You'll serve my purposes just as well dead as you would alive, but I leave the choice to you." He entirely ignored her commands to disarm the women to either side of her, then got up from his chair to give her a mocking bow and promptly left the room, setting a leisurely pace back to the airlock.

He arrived to find Miron directing his soldiers to bind the hapan crew and line them up on their knees on either side of the hallway. It was a very satisfying position to see them in.

"Captain, instruct the men that they may take whatever they wish from this ship in the next twenty minutes, then we leave."

"Aye Sir."

Not surprisingly, all of the gorgeous women were ferried over to the pirate vessel once the order was given, though even then there wouldn't be enough to go around. Some of them would have to share. That almost insignificantly small part of him that had wanted Valandra to be different started to feel sorry for them, but as he watched them be roughly loaded onto his vessel the haughty glares in their eyes firmly quashed that feeling. Every last one of them an insufferably arrogant bitch, and yet they all pale in comparison to their princess. I'm going to enjoy this way too much. And unfortunately for them, even a used Hapan would fetch a high price on the slave market. When the loading finished, he took up a position at the entrance to the airlock and leaned casually against the bulkhead as he waited, absently checking the time their princess had left to choose life. Five minutes and counting. Let's see just how proud she really is, shall we?