Driok
“Turn the nevving dampers on!” I bellow across the bridge as a spray of sparks and flame sears over my scales, causing zero damage, save to my dignity.
We lurch to one side, and I’m already beating over to the console where the young warrior is trying and failing to follow my instructions.
He’s flung to one side, hitting a bulkhead and sliding down, but that’s the least of his worries.
I hit the correct sequence for the dampers, and we stabilize, albeit with far too much noise and sparking of our systems coming back online.
“Weapons report!” I bark.
“Then nevving fire back!” I snarl.
No Sarkarnii warrior should ever have to be told to fight. It’s in our blood, it’s in our accelerant sacs, it’s deep in our flight lungs.
Fortunately I don’t even have to draw breath before there is the sweet sound of plasma cannon and nebula class torpedos being sent in the direction of our attackers.
“Try to keep the cargo intact.” I sigh, sitting back, attempting to keep my tail under control, given my shift wants to happen right now and the bridge of my ship isn’t big enough for all of us to be in our Sarkarnii forms. “Or this entire mission is a waste.”
As if the entire mission hasn’t already been a complete waste of time.
The intelligence we received was entirely false.
Whilst we found these pirates and are currently extracting their cargo to return to the original owners.
I can’t stop thinking about the delicious little female I had in my quarters two nova months ago.
The one I had to leave behind when I thought we had no choice but to leave Vorostor immediately.
The one I rut for. The rut which has caused me pain every nevving day since. My mood sours further.
“Their engines are disabled, Lord Driok,” my weapons master calls out. “They have an atmosphere leak on decks five through seven, but the cargo bay remains undamaged.
“About nevving time,” I growl, shoving myself upright. “Raiding party number one with me. Parties two and three, make ready. I want to be in and out before they have time to blink.”
Time is running out. Dalox, the one Sarkarnii warlord who can order me to do anything, has insisted I return as soon as this cargo has been secured.
It matters little that Dante somehow discovered there are Gonoz in this galaxy we accidentally, and annoyingly, found ourselves in. It makes ruling it a little difficult, but there’s no reason why we cannot, not if we secure this cargo.
The Gonoz will not stand a chance, nor will any other species who thinks it is a good idea to challenge the Sarkarnii. Especially any other species.
We might have ended up here due to a wormhole which is long gone, but it doesn’t mean we have to accept anything other than what we were made for.
“Time to conquer,” I growl at my cohort of warriors as I strap on a belt of psi-grenades and slide my personal plasma pistols into the custom holsters on my belt. “No prisoners. Cargo only.”
The airlock shakes as we latch onto the hull of the other ship.
There’s a brief buzz as the boarding lock is engaged and the plasma cutters make a new doorway for us, then a hissing, and the area is briefly filled with white gas before it clears as suddenly as it appeared and the airlock rolls open.
The stench hits me almost like a physical blow.
I forge ahead of my crew, checking on my comm to be sure of the correct direction as we make our way down into the belly of the stricken ship.
I hear the sound of plasma bolts being released, meaning some of the crew of this vessel are attempting to put up some sort of resistance.
Futile.
I am Lord Driok. My ancestors include Draxx, General of the legendary tenth battalion. I am not known as the Butcher of Haldane for nothing.
A shadow moves in front of me, and I take it out swiftly with the assailant. It slumps to the floor, the tentacles hanging from its head burbling their last.
I hold up my hand, and my troops come to a halt as we stare down an empty, wide passage, the lights flickering in time to the slowly dying heart of the ship.
“Cargo bay is dead ahead, but there will be traps,” I growl. “Deal with them.”
I motion my two best warriors forward. Swiftly, because they wouldn’t dare do anything otherwise in front of me, they set up the various trigger bots and send them on ahead.
Within nova-seconds, they’ve set off an explosion which sends a frisson of excitement through my warriors.
“Disable,” I growl.
“Disabled, my lord.” My lead warrior grins back at me.
“About time,” I snap. “Send word to the rest of the raiding parties, no survivors.”
I stride down to the main doors leading into the cargo bay. They open at my approach, revealing all.
It’s time to claim my prize.