A long, slow ship glides through the darkness of space. It looked huge and crude, as if its builders had no idea of beauty. However, most boats don't care much about aesthetics. Efficiency is what counts, and the functionality it provides. Since most ships will not enter a planet's atmosphere, there is no need to consider aerodynamics. In space there is no air resistance to slow down a ship. Theoretically, it is even possible to build cube-shaped ships whose performance is at least as good as other ships given the same technical configuration. Especially in cargo ships, space utilization plays a vital role. The higher the utilization, the more goods can be shipped. However, this space utilization often comes at the expense of appearance.
This ship is no exception. Designed purely for practicality, it offers maximum interior space and almost every square meter on board is so easily accessible that there is no need to first move the stored cargo out of the way to reach items at the back. This is a very important factor for merchants, since where goods are dispersed, processing is significantly faster. And as we all know, time is money.
The markings on the ship indicated that it was a small race cargo ship. This race does not belong to any great empire. Such races are rare, as they are constantly in danger of being attacked by larger powers. Moreover, these small races are usually not technically capable of resisting attacks. Most of these minor races therefore joined the United Starfleet, where they could retain most of their sovereignty while also enjoying the protection of the Community. Others have been occupied and ruled by Romulans or Klingons. However, there are still some small races scattered on three or four planets, and they are quite independent.
Suddenly, the space behind the ship began to glow with lights, then coalesced into a single object. A Klingon Raptor-class ship appears next to the cargo ship. The ship consists of an elongated hull equipped with powerful, wing-like braces on the sides that look like wings and are painted red on the bottom. This is reminiscent of the raptors that live on the Klingon homeworld. At the ends of these wings are powerful destructors, more destructive than the phaser cannons of the United Starfleet. Since these wings are only attached to the rear half of the hull, the more slender front part looks like the head of an eagle. At the front, there is also the command cabin of the hull. The ship's appearance also gave it its name, as it closely resembles a bird of prey.
The ship's wings can turn several degrees, at which point they are adjusted to attack position. Attacking with several rapid bursts of fire, they destroyed the freighter's propulsion system and shields before its crew realized they were in danger.
Then everything became calm again. The cargo ship drifted uncontrollably through space while the Raptor-class ship adjusted its course. They faced each other seemingly motionless.
"What happened? What happened?" the crew of the cargo ship shouted. The attack also destroyed their communications systems and displays, and now they are unable to locate and see clearly in space. They don't even know what happened.
"Debrief!" the captain shouted desperately from the bridge, trying to salvage anything he could. The crew must refocus and a solution must be found. They desperately need to figure out what happened. Were they attacked or had an accident?
"Life support and other critical systems are still functioning," an officer reported. He seemed to have calmed down again. It seemed reassuring to know that there was still air to breathe. "But the propulsion system, shields and communications systems were all destroyed."
"Damn it!" shouted the captain, his cat-like ears perking up. Without hyperdrive, it would take them decades to reach the nearest inhabited planet.
"They also spotted a Klingon ship before the sensors failed," the watch officer reported excitedly again. Now they were completely unable to protect themselves, and the cargo ship became their deathbed.
The captain slowly stood up. He knew they had no room for action. They can't escape or fight because the cargo ship has no weapons and they can't defend themselves. They can only wait to be killed.
Surprisingly, however, no violence occurred. What are the Klingons waiting for? They can quickly deal with the cargo ship. And usually the Klingons don't take anyone prisoner. Do they want them to die slowly here? But this doesn't fit their style either. If the Klingons decide to destroy something, they do so without hesitation until total destruction.
Suddenly, a red flash of the Klingon's teleporter appeared in the cargo ship's control room, and six figures appeared. But only one of them is a Klingon.
The cargo ship's captain wasn't sure what that meant. He had expected a swarm of Klingons to appear and descend upon his crew in a frenzy. But now he was looking at weapons he had never seen before. Only the Klingons wear the typical Destroyer (a weapon).
One of the men took a step. The freighter captain could not estimate his race because he had never seen anyone like it. The man was tall and strong, his bald head shining in the cabin lights. He has an angular face and a stern expression. The black sleeveless shirt clung to his muscular body, showing off his strong arms. The man said nothing, but stared directly at the captain.
"I'm Captain Tabor," the freighter captain began. "Who are you? Do you know that you are attacking a ship of the Kingdom of Kablan?" He tried to speak with a firm voice, but it was obviously unsuccessful. The fear is palpable in his words.
"Hello, eve
Yo
e! I am Razor, captain of the Negro. The man's voice was deep and powerful, echoing in the room. "That's our ship, please call it 'nigger'." As for the king of Kablan Kingdom losing a bit of wealth, I have no interest in that at all! Tell your crew they'd better keep quiet and don't do anything stupid until we've searched the hold. That way, no one will get hurt, I promise you. "
"You are pirates!" Tabor shouted. There are some such characters operating in the border areas of the great empires of the universe. Being far away from the core of the empire, no one cares about these issues, so these pirates are difficult to capture. "You can't threaten us." The captain of the cargo ship continued to challenge. "We can no longer control the ship or call for help. We are all going to die."
"You'd better shut up now, otherwise you'll die immediately." Reese threatened him and pointed the muzzle of the weapon directly at the tip of Tubber's nose. "We will get help for you, no one will die." With that, he motioned to his men, who then sent an order to their ship.
Tabor looked at Razer carefully. His brain was working rapidly. He quickly recalled the various races he knew. He is not a Romulan, nor a Demon Flame, nor a Sindi. But he had heard of a large empire with many different races in it. He remembered that two of the races were Vulcans and humans. Although he didn't know what humans and Vulcans looked like, he was sure that the person in front of him should be a Vulcan.
While he was thinking, Lei Ze turned around and walked towards his men. At the same time, a freighter officer pulled out a handheld laser and opened fire on the Klingons. The laser struck his left shoulder. He was hit and bounced away, but quickly regained his balance and fired his molecular destructor. The person who fired the gun screamed, then instantly turned into atoms and disappeared. The people around him didn't dare to say anything when they saw this.
"Stop!" Razor shouted, blocking the Klingon's arm. "Stop shooting, Turtle. That's enough!"
The situation remains very tense. Pirates glared from the cargo ship's bridge. Their lasers were aimed at the cargo ship's officers, who were also targeting the pirates. They were absolutely unwilling to surrender without resistance. Although none of them were warriors, the fear was clearly visible in their eyes. However, they did not dare to put down their weapons easily. The current situation is like a powder keg, just one spark away from exploding. One wrong statement could lead to disaster and no one would make it out alive. Both sides are evenly matched. In a melee, no one can expect to survive. Lei Ze is aware of this situation. And Tabor has it too. He actually had nothing to lose. Except life, and that seemed like a huge stake. However, perhaps he can still save the royal cargo and return home a hero.
"I think you should leave now," he said to Razer. "Because we will fight for our goods until the last minute." His tone became firm and confident again.
"Then you'll all die," the Klingon snarled, teeth bared, sharp and curved.
"That's enough!" Razor shouted, trying to control the situation. "You put down your weapons now and surrender. Our boarding team is already in the cargo hold and taking what we need. And you have no chance of winning, so just surrender. Otherwise, you won't have too long left." Lei Ze's eyes flickered. If Tabor dared say another word, Razer's authority among his own crew would be threatened. Many were not happy with the way he robbed. They thought he was soft on too many lives. But so far, every heist has been a success. As long as this continued, he was safe. Therefore, Lei Ze cannot show any weakness. If Tabor dared to say another word, he would have to kill him. But that would be the final straw and cause the situation to spiral completely out of control.
However, Tabor remained silent. Apparently, he has realized that he must choose between the goods and his life. He couldn't do both. Survival was more important to him, and he wanted to report all this in detail to the royal army.
He nodded to his officers, and they lowered their weapons. But a young official hesitated. This would be his last hesitation. Spin Turtle shoots him, causing him to disappear into atoms as well.
Lei Ze was angry inside, but said nothing. The only way he could resolve the situation completely unscathed was to kill the Spin Turtle. But Razer didn't want to do that. He also needs this Klingon. They were not strong enough to carry out larger-scale robberies. And the current situation is not such that he fears for his life, although the spin turtle is difficult to control. If he agrees with Spin Turtle's behavior, it's not particularly good for him, but it's better than just lecturing him. If the captain taught him a lesson, the turtle would just sneer.
"I hope this taught you a lesson," Razer scolded the freighter captain, completely ignoring the spinner turtle.
"Your promises are not worth much anymore," Tabor replied, before taking a knee in submission.
"That only works with cooperation," Razor snapped. "But you think you can play the role of hero. Unfortunately, there are no heroes here today."
The buzz of the transmitter interrupted him. Razor opened it angrily. "What?" he yelled inside.
"We got what we needed," someone responded.
"Okay, evacuate." He switched the frequency and issued the transmission command.
Soon after, silence returned to the bridge. Only the flashing siren lights reminded them of the attack.
The crew was silent, still in shock. Two colleagues were dead and the cargo was lost. The situation could hardly be worse. It was only slowly that Tabor recovered. The crew looked forward to his instructions.
"Helmsman, set course for the nearest inhabited system," he ordered with a trembling voice.
"But Captain," someone immediately protested, "it's going to take us years to get there."
"Do as I say," Tabor replied impolitely. "Are we going to at least try to get back, or are we just going to die here?" He calmed down slightly and turned to the rest of the crew. "Everyone else come with me to the cabin. Let's see what we can fix."
