“Rodney, detach from the orbital and navigate to sector B-6-Zulu.” Jean said after reviewing the instrumentation to verify they were battle ready.

  “Yes, captain.” Rodney replied.

  The pilot took his seat and gripped the controls, deftly beginning the sequence of events needed to depart. As the engines roared to life and the deck hummed to life beneath their feet, the crew felt the ship shudder as it disengaged from its dock. Immediately after their disconnect, the sailors felt gravity vanish before returning a moment later.

  “Supply, how are our gravitrum stores?” Jean asked.

  “One hundred percent, captain,” the sailor responded.

  “Good. Pilot, you have the helm. Jump into the sector at range and engage stealth.” Jean commanded, “Weapons, we start with disabling. We’ll only destroy the ships if absolutely necessary.”

  “Aye, captain.” A chorus of voices responded over the radio, their owners in position and ready to strike.

  The world stretched, the ship and their bodies pulled through space like putty pulled through a straw. Jean had felt this sensation only once before, and that time he was much more concerned with his future as a prisoner than the experience of traveling faster than light. Once they arrived, space and time snapped back into focus, leaving a few disoriented, but alive and ready for battle.

  On a three-dimensional tactical map displayed directly in front of his chair, Jean watched as a single red dot populated, moving along at sub-light speeds with no protection. Considering it was the first time the pirates left Narax—having resorted to trickery to acquire their entire fleet, and torture to redirect the blame—the former eco terrorist was both excited and disappointed at what would apparently be an easy target.

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  “Stealth enabled,” a pirate said from a position beside Rodney. “Generators at seventy-five percent. Allocating fifty percent of total output to weapons.”

  On Jean’s display, levels displaying the power generated and current output changed, matching the report he’d just received. A status light representing the weapons turned green, and he selected the type of rounds they would be allowed to use until otherwise allowed. From what he’d gathered over the past several months; Scaladorians didn’t trust one another, and the higher one rose in their military, the truer that position became.

  The ship moved forward, silently gliding through the blackness of space like a shark stalking its prey. Their base level stealth didn’t make them invisible, but instead used a very specific type of jammer that redirected the visible light reflection in a direction that wouldn’t allow the sender to read the results. Unless the goods transport was equipped with much higher levels of protection than the cruiser Jean currently flew, they were effectively ghosts to the opposing radar.

  “We're in range,” Rodney announced once he’d positioned the ship a quarter light second from their target. He pulled back on the throttle, matching speed with the transport so he didn’t get too close before they were ready.

  “Good.” Jean said, flipping on the ship's comms. “Survivors of Earth, survivors of Scalador, remember this moment. Until now, we’ve done nothing but inconvenience our captors—our abusers. We’ve taken their ships, taken their soldiers, and taken their gravitrum, but still they live life as though we weren’t there. After today, we will force their navy to spread thin as they continue the search for us while trying to protect goods traveling from one planet to another. They believe they are safe, but we will prove how wrong they are. Today, we earn the title of pirate.”

  A cheer erupted from every manned position on board, adrenaline pumping through their veins as each sailor prepared for battle. At the helm, Rodney adjusted his grip on the ship's controls while the sailors manning the other positions confirmed the status of each station one more time. In the cargo hold, a boarding crew—composed of both human and Scalador—sealed faceplates and checked the charge on their weapons.

  “Systems, scramble all outgoing signals. We don’t need their friends arriving on this little adventure.”

  “Aye captain,” the systems tech responded and complied.

  “Weapons, fire at will.”