With a blink of a bright speck of light, more than a dozen of ships emerged from their Vector Travel Bump. One of the largest was leading the formation as other ships of the fleet fanned out behind it.

"Steady as she goes," Munda growled, his mechanical eye whirring as it scanned the surrounding debris. "We've survived worse."

Accelerating at a Vector Travel Speed was rough. But as the lead and flagship, Godright struck several asteroids, causing minor collisions with smaller rocks after emerging. The crew held their breath, but the bow of the ship, protected by reinforced rostrums, held firm with every collision from smaller and medium-sized rocks in space.

Munda stood on the bridge of his flagship, as it approached the coordinates where their satellite had detected a ship drifting in the asteroid belt. His crew, a motley collection of cyber-enhanced pirates and renegades, moved with a sense of urgency that belied their ragged appearance. It had been weeks since their last successful catch, and the strain of constant evasion from the UGTR naval patrols was beginning to show.

Their fuel, food, and ammo were not infinite and as such in dire need of resupply. And the only way they could requisition these things was through plunder. But it seemed that Lady Luck itself was not very subtle in giving them misfortune these past months due to one failure after another. For every ship or trade fleet they found, they would soon quickly respond with naval patrols or fleets that undermined the satiation of their hunger and greed.

The Godright was the lead ship of a fleet of heavily modified vessels made for piracy in deep space, each bristling with weapons and armor. But still, Munda knew better than to challenge the UGTR navy directly. Thus their game became one of cat and mouse, with the pirates skirting the edges of the Sol System, always on the lookout for easy prey while avoiding the authorities.

Munda’s mechanical eye scanned the holographic display, which showed the target ship highlighted in red amidst the floating rocks and debris. He turned to his first mate, Vex, a grizzled veteran with a cybernetic arm and a perpetual scowl.

“We’re closing in on the target,” Munda said, his voice a gravelly growl. “What’s the status of the rest of the fleet?”

Vex tapped a few commands into the console, bringing up a display of their fleet’s positions.

“The rest are in position to flank. The Pussypaw is lagging, but it should catch up in time for the boarding sequence.”

“Good.” Munda nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the readouts. “I don’t want another beacon to be sent so prepare to shoot down anything that will come out from that ship. These naval patrols are getting smarter and faster in responding, even more aggressive. It’s like they know our every move. So this time, we will not give them any chances.”

“Yes, boss.”

“We need this one, boss-man. Supplies are running low, and the crew’s getting restless. If we don’t make a score soon, we’re going to have a mutiny on our hands.” Bastille, one of his navigation officers, reminded him of their predicament.

Vex’s scowl deepened and yelled back.

“We know. Bossman is already going to get us the needed supplies. Repeat that and I’ll fucking shoot you myself.”

“Who will be navigating your flagship then? You just kicked out the only person that was better than me.” Bastille taunted him.

“Ignore him. We focus on the capture. Beat him up afterward as much as you want.” Munda’s mechanical eye whirred as it focused on the distant ship. “And we’ll worry about the patrols later. For now, let’s concentrate on our prize.”

As the Godright and its companion ships maneuvered into position, the bridge buzzed with activity. Sensors beeped and chirped, and the low hum of the ship’s engines provided a constant backdrop to the tense atmosphere. Munda watched as the target ship grew larger on the display, a battered ship that seemed to be limping through the asteroid belt.

“Is that a freighter? Or mining ship?”

“It seems to be both. It is not responding even after we already reached the range of its scan. Seems like it’s in bad shape,” Vex observed. “It probably shouldn’t put up much of a fight.”

“Don’t underestimate them,” Munda warned. “Desperate people can be dangerous.”

He activated the fleet-wide intercom.

The mood aboard all ships shifted from grim determination to eager anticipation. With the promise of a major score on the horizon, the crew’s morale soared. But Munda knew better than to let his guard down. The space lanes around this belt were treacherous even for outlaws like them and the navy was always patrolling these sectors. And other pirate groups lurking, ready to pounce to steal other’s prey.

As they went closer with the mining ship, Munda took a side glance and saw the damage more clearly on his other ships’ hulls: scorch marks from laser blasts, gaping holes in the hull, and the flicker of failing power systems. Making him know that his entire fleet also needs some overhaul and repairs. He decided to ignore it for now and got his attention back to the mining vessel.

“Minimal readings. The size itself looks like it could handle a skeleton crew while the other half rests, maybe a dozen at most.” Bastille’s fingers danced across the console.

Munda grinned, his teeth gleaming in the dim light.

"Get me the ship’s ID," he ordered which took his crew several seconds to get a full 3D scan of the vessel. “Scan for life signs.”

"Yep. Just confirmed. It's a mining ship, all right. M-sized mining barge. But it has no ID to indicate any corporate or sovereign affiliation."

The target ship, a massive mining vessel, floated motionless among the asteroids. The calculated crew according to its size, was predicted to be numbering at least forty. Which would already be undoubtedly aware of their presence by now. But Munda's eyes narrowed upon hearing Vex’s words. In UGTR-controlled space, every ship was required to have a legal ID. Any vessel without one was immediately deemed rogue or pirate, subject to destruction by the naval patrols.

"Interesting," Munda muttered. "A ship like that should have been shot down by now by the patrolling UGTR ships."

"Could be an independent miner or a rogue operation. Either way, it's a sitting duck." Vex nodded.

Munda activated the ship-wide intercom.

“All hands, prepare for boarding. We’re going in hot.”

The crew responded with a chorus of affirmations, and the Godright surged forward, its hull cutting through the void with silent menace.

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As they got closer to the mining ship, they could see that it appeared to be running on minimal power.

“And keep an eye on the scanners. We don't want any surprises.” Munda commanded.

“Other ships are prepped and ready boss.”

"No, a second thought… there’s no need to send boarding teams from other ships. Just us." Munda ordered, his voice a gravelly growl. "This mining vessel is enough for us to handle with just one fire team."

Vex nodded and relayed the orders to the fleet. The rest of the fleet obeyed and called off the launching of their boarding pods in unison. Munda's eyes narrowed as he considered the challenge ahead. The mining ship's size and static position suggested it was vulnerable, but also that it could house more resistance than they anticipated.

Before the boarding pods launched, Munda gathered his crew in the cargo bay. The white combat suits they wore gleamed under the harsh lights, soon to be transformed with war paint. They dipped their fingers into pots of dark, oily pigment, streaking their armor with menacing designs. Faces marked with fearsome patterns. The fellow crew that helped them in suiting up began to beat on the drums mounted on the railings overhead of their pod. Giving deep, resonant sounds that filled the bay.

“Remember.” Munda addressed his crew, his voice echoing through the ship-wide intercom. “Assume that we’re up against a sizable crew. Don’t ignore their sensors and any attempts to send a beacon of rescue or emergency drones. We board immediately, we take swiftly, and we leave quickly.”

Munda himself joined the ritual, his mechanical eye glinting in the dim light. He marked his suit with jagged stripes and swirling symbols, a testament to his status as leader. The drumming intensified a primal rhythm that echoed through the metal corridors of the ship. Then, as the boarding pods sealed around them, the pirates began to chant, a war song that had become their ritual practice in their every boarding action in reverence to the dark space.

The boarding pods launched with a lurch, the chants and drumbeats continuing within their metal shells. Munda felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as they hurtled through the void, the war song rising in volume. They beat their chests in unison, the vibrations resonating through their suits.

The boarding pods struck the hull of the mining ship with a bone-jarring impact, and the pirates erupted from their confines with a unified war cry. Their painted combat suits, now adorned with war paint, made them appear as vengeful specters in the dim corridors of the ship.

"Priority! Secure the bridge!" Munda barked.

Vex and the others surged forward, their painted suits a terrifying sight in the gloom. The mining ship’s crew fought back, but they were no match for the seasoned pirates. The corridors filled with the sounds of blaster fire, screams, and the relentless drumming of the pirates’ hearts.

The freighter’s crew, clearly unprepared for the assault, scrambled to defend their ship. A firefight erupted, the sound of blaster fire echoing through the cramped passageways.

This was what they had expected to happen.

But in reality, they were met with silent, empty hallways of the ship. Munda led the charge, his mechanical eye scanning for threats as they moved through the eerily quiet vessel.

"Something's not right," Vex muttered, his weapon raised as they advanced.

The corridor was empty, the usual chaos of a ship under attack conspicuously absent. Munda's instincts, honed by years of piracy, screamed a warning. They pushed forward, their boots echoing ominously against the metal floor.

They reached the bridge without encountering a single soul. Then after minutes of uncontested advance, they arrived at what their scanned diagram of the vessel to be the bridge of the ship.

"Blow the door," Munda ordered.

Vex rigged the explosives, and with a deafening blast, the door was breached. The pirates stormed the bridge, expecting fierce resistance. Instead, they found emptiness. The room was devoid of any sign of life. The crew exchanged confused glances, their bloodlust died down and was replaced with confusion and caution.

“What the hell?” Vex muttered, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “Where is everyone?”

Instead in the center of the bridge was a young boy who sat in the captain’s chair, staring at them with unblinking eyes. He showed no fear, no surprise—just a cold, emotionless gaze. The stark contrast between the child and the heavily armed pirates was jarring.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice a growl. “Where’s the rest of the crew?”

The boy remained silent; his expression unchanged. He looked at Munda with an almost unsettling calm.

Vex stepped forward, his cybernetic arm whirring softly.

“You heard the captain. Where is everyone?”

Still, the boy said nothing. His silence was deafening, and his lack of reaction only fueled the pirates' unease.

"Where is the rest of the crew?" Munda repeated.

The boy remained silent, his eyes never leaving Munda's. Something was unsettling about his calm demeanor, an unspoken challenge in his gaze. Munda took a step closer, his mechanical eye whirring as it scanned the boy.

"Answer me!" he barked, but the boy's expression did not change.

"Captain," Vex interjected. "Something's off here.”

“This kid isn't scared. He knows something." one of his crew said.

Munda's frustration grew and clenched his fists, frustration boiling over.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Search the ship. Tear it apart if you have to. We’ll find them.”

The pirates spread out, moving through the vessel with practiced efficiency. They scoured every corridor, every room, but found nothing. The ship was a ghost, devoid of life except for the boy on the bridge.

Munda stayed behind, his eyes never leaving the boy.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Why are you alone?”

"We don't have time for this." he clicked his tongue. Although he was not that degenerate enough to torture a kid, his past experience with children made him very cautious with them.

The pirates spread out, their footsteps reverberating through the empty corridors.

"What's your name?" Munda asked, trying a different approach.

The boy remained mute, his face a mask of indifference.

"You do realize we can make this much worse for you," Munda threatened, but even that elicited no reaction.

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours, as Munda waited for word from his crew. But their efforts yielded no results. The ship was completely abandoned, and the only clue they had was the silent boy. Vex's voice crackled over the comms.

"Captain, we've scoured the entire ship. There's no one here, just the kid."

"No crew, how about the cargo?" Munda's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," Vex confirmed. "It's like they vanished. But this vessel seemed to be carrying ores that were mined in this sector."

The only tangible evidence they found were chunks of valuable ores, meticulously mined and stored. Munda turned his attention back to the boy. His frustration was palpable as he reunited with his other team.

"This doesn’t make any sense," Vex muttered, his frustration evident. "How can a ship this size be completely deserted?"

Vex shook his head.

"Could be a trap. Maybe the navy's trying to lure us out."

"Then why leave the kid?" Munda countered. "No, there's something we're missing."

He turned to the communications console.

"Broadcast a message to the fleet. I want everyone on high alert. If this is a setup, we need to be ready."

As the message went out, Munda leaned back in his chair, staring at the holographic map of the sector. The boy’s unflinching stare and complete lack of fear gnawed at him, making him uneasy in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But they had no other leads, and leaving empty-handed was not an option. He called his breaker, Luswa to use another option.

“I’ll have Luswa get us the ship logs of this vessel. And don’t forget to take the ores," Munda ordered. "We’re not leaving empty-handed."

"Captain," Vex said quietly, "what do we do with the kid?"

“Send him on the brig of this ship. We can’t risk our own if this was a planted trap. Maybe some time alone will make him talk.” Munda ordered, he knew the danger or possibility that the boy was some kind of human bomb so he decided to take precautions for the worst-case scenario. “We’re not done here yet.”

As the boy disappeared from his sight, Munda’s mind raced with questions.

The crew settled into their alert status, and the tension aboard the Godright remained high. Munda's thoughts kept drifting back to the boy's blank, unyielding stare. In the dark expanse of space, where survival hinged on cunning and ruthlessness, Munda knew one thing for certain: mysteries like this never ended well.