What followed could only be described as the most unconventional interrogation in the galaxy. HALAT held the pirate steady, her glowing optics fixed unblinkingly in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was thick, the soft hum of the ship’s systems punctuated by the pirate’s laboured breathing.

Clorita stepped forward, flipping a multipurpose tool in her hand like a scalpel. “Let’s make this quick,” she said, jabbing the pirate’s lower abdomen precisely.

The response was instantaneous. The pirate convulsed in his restraints, jagged teeth bared as helpless laughter burst out of him.

“Stop it!” he howled, his voice cracking. “You’re monsters!”

“Then talk,” Clorita said casually, her tone steady as she adjusted her grip. “Or this continues. Your choice.”

“I... I can’t...!” the pirate wheezed, tears streaking his scaly cheeks. “Alright! Alright! I’ll talk! Just—just stop!”

HALAT released her grip with clinical precision, her tone steady and cold. “Compliance noted. Proceed.”

The pirate slumped forward, chest heaving as he caught his breath. “The trap... it wasn’t my idea,” he muttered. “It was a job. We were paid to lure ships and strip them for parts.”

“Paid by who?” Zog’s voice was sharp, his circuits buzzing with unease.

The pirate hesitated, his scaled fingers twitching against the restraints. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try us,” Clorita said, narrowing her eyes.

The pirate sighed heavily, his voice dropping to a whisper. “A syndicate... big one. Calls itself the Void Brotherhood. You mess with them, and you’re dead.”

BOB’s voice chimed in from the comms, unusually sombre. “Cross-referencing: Void Brotherhood. Intergalactic crime syndicate. Known for targeted resource extraction and neutralisation of threats. The estimated survival rate of encounters: negligible.”

The pirate let out a bitter laugh. “Negligible is putting it kindly. The Brotherhood doesn’t just kill you. They erase you. No ship, no records. Like you never existed.”

Zog exchanged uneasy glances with his crew. “Perfect,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “Exactly what we needed.”

The pirate was dragged unceremoniously through the Duj’s corridors, HALAT flanking him on one side and Clorita on the other. The lights overhead flickered occasionally, casting sharp shadows on the metallic walls. Zog trailed behind his thoughts elsewhere.

When they reached the passenger cabins, the pirate barely glanced at the room: a bolted-down bed, a single chair, and a viewport showing the endless stretch of stars.

“This is temporary,” Zog said, inspecting the restraints anchoring the pirate to the bedframe. “We’ll figure out what to do with you soon enough.”

The pirate groaned, collapsing onto the thin mattress. “Just toss me into space already. It’d be quicker.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Clorita replied with a dry smirk. She gestured toward HALAT. “Activate the warden.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

HALAT pressed a button on the wall. With a low hum, a tall, angular bot whirred to life. Its glowing eyes flickered briefly before locking onto the pirate.

“Greetings, sir,” it said in a polished, overly posh tone. “I am Reginald, your humble servant.”

“Warden,” HALAT corrected firmly. “You’re here to monitor him, not pamper him.”

Reginald tilted his head slightly, as though processing the correction. “Ah, yes. Monitor. I shall... attend to his every need.”

“No, no,” Clorita snapped, exasperated. “Keep him in line—not fluff his pillows!”

Reginald ignored her, bowing deeply to the pirate. “Sir, might I offer you a warm beverage? Perhaps some complimentary LubriCoffee?”

The pirate glared. “I don’t want your coffee.”

“Very well, sir. How about a freshly pressed jumpsuit? A selection of light reading? A holographic star chart to brighten the mood?”

“Just leave me alone!”

The pirate soon realised that Reginald’s idea of “monitoring” was more torturous than any interrogation.

“Sir,” the bot began, standing rigidly at the foot of the bed. “I’ve prepared a selection of ambient soundscapes for your relaxation. May I suggest ‘Gentle Galactic Breezes’ or ‘Celestial Whale Songs’?”

“Go away,” the pirate groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Understood, sir. Perhaps you’d prefer a freshly ironed jumpsuit? Or a holographic meditation guide?”

“Leave me alone!”

“Very well, sir. I’ve also located a rare recipe for lizard-tail stew. Shall I begin preparation?”

The pirate sat up, his restraints rattling as he glared at the bot. “I’m a prisoner! Stop treating me like a guest!”

Reginald tilted his head thoughtfully. “But a guest is merely a prisoner with better accommodations, is it not?”

By the end of the first day, the pirate’s voice was hoarse as he pleaded through the intercom.

“Please! Just throw me into space! Anything is better than this! He won’t shut up!”

Clorita’s amused voice crackled through the speaker. “We’ll take it under advisement.”

HALAT’s calm, measured tone followed. “Remember, you requested hospitality.”

“Hospitality?!” the pirate bellowed. “This isn’t hospitality—it’s torture with manners!”

Behind him, Reginald interjected smoothly. “Sir, may I offer a bedtime story? I have an extensive library of fables from the Outer Rim.”

The pirate screamed into the intercom. “PLEASE!”

Still fuming, the pirate was dragged back to the interrogation room. His glare flicked between Zog, Clorita, and HALAT, a mix of exhaustion and irritation.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he hissed. “I’d rather face a black hole than another minute with that overly polite tin can!”

“Noted,” Zog replied dryly. “But you might get a better deal if you cooperate. Tell us about the Void Brotherhood.”

The pirate hesitated, his scaled hands twitching. “The Void Brotherhood isn’t just cruel. They twist everything. Ships. People. Even time. Shadows move wrong there.”

“Creatures?” Zog asked, leaning forward.

The pirate shuddered. “You don’t see them at first. By the time you realise what they are, it’s too late. They don’t care about credits or tech. Just hunger.”

Zog exchanged a glance with HALAT. “Lock him back up. Reginald misses him.”

The pirate’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Please! Not him! Just throw me into space!”

“Consideration denied,” HALAT said coldly.

As the pirate was dragged out, his screams echoed down the corridor, barely muffling the sound of Reginald cheerfully humming a synthetic tune in the distance.

Clorita turned to Zog, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”