I rest my head against the wall. It feels cool.

I ignore that and focus on the data my neural implant is giving me.

Rarely would I ever let my guard down. Rarely could I let my guard down.

My (mild) paranoia had made me install a couple peculiar implants. One of those implants lets me keep an eye on the composition of the air I was breathing in. Another lets me know about even the slightest bit of inertia, for a situation somewhat like this.

Inertial dampeners are used for preventing us from going “splat!” against the walls when the ship accelerates. However, there are always minor irregularities. Those irregularities are exactly what I’m using to keep track of the ship’s moments, and in the rare moments that I was in a ship that is not mine, I have it on and map out the path using some complicated programming.

You can never be too careful.

And, as it turns out, it gives me something to do, rather than just stare at the wall.

I map out the path of the ship, using the data I’ve gathered, and then guess that the ship would be taking us to Coris, a small outpost near a planet with a lot of volcanic activity. If I recall right, they use the harsh conditions on the planet for training.

Which is… a bit extreme, but not exactly surprising given how serious they take their jobs. That’s the one thing you can admire about them.

Somewhat absentmindedly, I tap the steel floors.

Then, the little bits of data that are streaming from the implant suddenly change.

I frown.

We’re going off course. Where to? Other outposts are too far away to be an option. Are there any Alphas out there? And are they going to take me to one?

Omegas are battleships that are planet-sized. Each powerful, but very expensive. And so they are rare. The closest Omega is a couple hundred light years from here so I can guess that we aren’t going to anyone of those. Unless we’re going to a wormhole, which would still take a lot of time. I’m not important enough for them to go that far.

“What am I, the head of Syntech?” I scoff.

Syntech is a small but powerful company that sells arms. They’re famous.

An Alpha’s satellite sized. They’re relatively common and sometimes serve as mobile outposts for the Sentinels. They like to move Alphas around every other week, to keep the bad guys on their toes. So, it is possible.

“Hmm, third Alpha I’ve been to then.”

They are also nicely hidden from scanners. It would take some highly advanced tech to find them.

The data stream changes again.

I frown.

The ship has stopped.

The coordinates I’ve calculated land us in a high radiation zone. It would be stupid to keep an Alpha here, radiation shielding or not. The radiation shielding might work in a mid-radiation zone, but the radiation in high radiation zones are really dangerous because of their unpredictability.

The best shields don’t do shit against that type of radiation.

Anyways, I get up, as my intuition is warning me that something is going to happen soon.

As if right on cue, I hear the sound of laser fire. Alarms blare. The ship rumbles.

I nearly lose balance.

The data stream once again changes.

The ship is moving again, somewhat in a shaky manner.

The next few seconds gives me a challenge that is, figuring out the movements of the ship. It seems to be making evasive maneuvers.

I frown yet again.

It was trying to escape…? From wha-

I almost face-palm as I come to a realization. They changed course to respond to an emergency beacon. Maybe a pirate ship, or fleet attacking a carrier. The pirates must’ve been too much for them. They took fire, and now are retreating.

Were.

“Shit.” I curse.

The pirates have caught the ship. Either that or something worse that I haven’t even thought of.

What comes next would be the capture or execution of everyone inside, followed by looting. I don’t care about the others, but I do care about myself. So, I start thinking of ways out.

I hear the sound of metal tearing. It’s shrill and nearly deafening.

I wince.

Then, I hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, followed by more laser fire. Maybe plasma too. Following that are screams, and curses.

I tense.

Whether it’s because of the situation or not, I don’t know, but my mind drifts.

I can afford to show up late for my first day. Maybe even miss it. But being captured would mean I would take an unknown amount of time to escape. I had put in a lot of effort to get into the Zi school. I am not going to let it go to waste.

What are my options?

I glance down at my handcuffs.

I look around. A toilet, in the corner. The door. The air ventilation duct. Nothing else.

I can hear shouting now.

The door opens. A woman stands there.

Time slows down. Or so, it seems that way. In reality, I know it’s my neural implants working in overdrive.

The woman has cosmetic implants. High grade too. She looks good but too good. Especially for a pirate. A pirate woman. Her stance tells me that she also has some strength implants. Maybe some hidden implants that I should keep a watch out for.

She has platinum hair. Her lips are curled into a manic grin.

Sadistic tendencies, definitely.

Her weapons only prove that further. They’re basically long-range flamethrowers. Uses a special compound.

Seeing past her reveals two faces. Both male. One lean and the other broad-faced. Intuition warns me that I should be wary of the lean one. Strange.

I analyze my options. Then, I switch my implants back into normal mode, already feeling the heat.

I cower backward, acting fearful.

“No! P-Please!”

The woman grins, and shouts over her shoulder;

“Hey, Wren, I think I got a screamer here!”

I widen my eyes, while the broad-faced man chuckles from behind. Or so I assume because I’m too busy focusing on my facial muscles to pay attention to them.

“You go ahead, I have some work to do!” The broad-faced man shouts.

Work? They call looting work? …Really?

The woman snorts.

“Sure.”

I raise my hands in surrender, muttering.

“Please… no, I don’t-” I swallow.” I don’t want to-”

My hands shoot upwards, a stream of white hitting the cuffs just as I jump to the side, avoiding what would’ve been a horrible death.

I snap the link between the cuffs, wincing as some of the molten metal hits my skin. I push the pain down and focus on the situation. Pain is only useful when you aren’t in a battle.

The woman looks at me warily.

“Smart. But tell me, can those brains save you from a grenade?”

She grins at me, before detaching a small canister from her gun and tossing it at me.

Now, this is exactly why I went for speed.

I dart forward, catch the canister, which is now red-hot and smoking, and toss it back at her.

I grin at her.

She startles backward, but it’s too late.

I close my eyes just in time for the bang. When I open them, my ears are ringing, and the woman is writhing on the ground, blackened, and missing several chunks of flesh.

A metal mesh, now barely visible over her flesh is probably what allowed her to survive the explosion. Unlucky for her, it only prolongs her suffering.

I’m not one to hurt people. I don’t like making them suffer. But this is different.

She was prepared to do much worse. And I didn’t have anywhere else to toss the grenade to, either. I didn’t have enough time to toss the grenade elsewhere.

Another death on my conscience. An angry sadist if she survives. Shit.

The lean man looks up at me. He looks completely undisturbed by the disturbing sight of his comrade, nearly dead. Not a single sign of rage, sadness, anything. Just coldness.

I stare back at him.

Then I jump back as a woman appears near me.

She’s flawless. There are no other words to describe her.

She also has wings.