The Blitzkrieg emerged from warp with a shudder, the massive titan-class vessel settling into normal space as the stars re-aligned in the familiar darkness. Ubel finally let out a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. The sprawling bridge of the Blitzkrieg was quiet except for the steady hum of systems coming back online and the clicks of his drones and droids starting their post-battle routines. Ubel reached out to his terminal, bringing up the ship’s diagnostics then remembered about the Godright and its crew. He then turned his attention to the docking bay where Godright had now rested and the former Demonic Monkeys or crew of Godright were gathered. He opened up his live feed and counted them, they were all one hundred and forty-four which was still a large number.
“Creed?” he opened up his holo and contacted the crew of Godright. But it seemed that no one was answering. So, he repeated, this time with a louder voice. “Creed!”
“Ah! Yes? Commander?” Creed suddenly opened up his feed, although Ubel could see that Creed was distracted by something else but he decided to ignore that for now.
“I want you to stay there in the docking bay for now. I have to finish up setting the drones and whatnot in scanning the hull integrity of Blitzkrieg. You will get lost there if one of you decides to linger around areas where you shouldn’t be.”
“Of course, I will pass your words to others.”
Ubel cut off the link and sighed. Now came the task of assessing the damage. The Blitzkrieg had taken its first damage in the previous battle, and even with its reinforced hull and advanced shielding, the ship wasn’t impervious. Although he admits that most of that damage was due to his risky maneuvers. He wasn’t the type to leave things to chance, so his drones would comb through every nook and cranny to make sure no damage went unnoticed. Even though the ship was still fully functional, Ubel knew that a single undetected fault could be fatal in the wrong situation. After all, this ship had to remain ready for anything.
Ubel stood over and oversees hundreds of autonomous repair units that buzzed like insects through the corridors and hull breaches. Drones swarmed over the exterior of the ship, their sleek forms zipping around in controlled patterns as they scanned for hull breaches, structural weaknesses, and damage to the weapon systems. Meanwhile, the droids were systematically inspecting every inch of the ship's vast internal structure, from the inner hull to the intricate wiring deep within the engine rooms. His eyes flicked over the damage assessments—some systems had been strained, others were outright needing replacement or upgrade after the ‘test’ that he had made.
He also sent some of the droids inside the ship to begin a comprehensive check of the interior—inspecting the reactor, reviewing the energy output, and ensuring that no critical systems had been compromised. He directed the droids to reroute power from non-essential systems and start repairs. With a few swipes on his holo, Ubel summoned additional drones to conduct a full structural analysis of the ship’s docking bays.
“Drones 76 to 94, reroute to corridor B-32. We have power fluctuations in that section.” His voice was calm but authoritative, the drones responding immediately as they adjusted their paths.
Ubel watched as the data streamed in, meticulously inspecting each one, sifting through them. His mind processed the readouts as if he were conducting an orchestra. The drones highlighted sections where the hull was scorched or dented, and areas that would need repairs due to his dangerous maneuvering. The starboard side, in particular, had taken a few nasty hits from plasma torpedoes that scratched the paint. No serious breaches had been detected, but he sighed as the twenty-kilometer-long ship may need a new paint job.
“Run diagnostics on the reactor core,” Ubel ordered aloud, though the droids were already ahead of him. The core is the heart of the Blitzkrieg, and any instability there would spell disaster for the massive ship. As expected, the energy output was strained from the barrage that the ship had weathered.
One by one, the systems checked out. Weapon systems had taken a bit of a beating—some of the forward cannons, rail guns, and PDCs were damaged but repairable. Missiles were nearly depleted, and several of the hangar bays had sustained scorch marks still visible on the decks where fighter drones had scrambled to launch.
Ubel rubbed his chin, taking in the data. The Blitzkrieg would need a thorough refit, but it could hold its own until it reached a safe harbor for repairs. Satisfied, he nodded to the command droid.
"Begin full repairs, prioritize the shield systems and weapon recalibration. I want us combat-ready in the shortest time possible."
The droids buzzed with activity, and drones returned to their docking stations, sending final reports of damage to the ship’s log. The repairs would take time, but at least the ship was still intact—and more importantly, still functional.
--
After ensuring the repairs were underway, Ubel made his way toward the main docking bay, where the former Demonic Monkeys had been given temporary quarters. As the doors slid open, Ubel couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him. Creed, Bastille, Mei, and the rest of the group stood in awe. Their eyes were wide like children seeing something extraordinary for the first time as they took in the sheer scale of the Blitzkrieg's docking bay. Ubel couldn’t blame them. The sight was overwhelming, even for Ubel, who had built this fleet from scratch.
The vast chamber stretched out before them like a city, with dozens of ships docked in neat rows. From corvettes to frigates, battleships, dreadnoughts, and destroyers, the array of vessels housed inside the Blitzkrieg was enough to make any seasoned pirate or mercenary pause in wonder. Each ship was armed to the teeth, gleaming with advanced technology, their sleek forms built for war. Half of the Blitzkrieg’s massive frame was dedicated to acting as a supercarrier for the array of ships, each of which could easily conduct its missions, from reconnaissance to full-scale invasion. Ubel himself still felt a sense of pride every time he saw it.
As he approached, he could see their faces—men and women of all ages, some with streaks of gray in their hair, others young but with the weary look of people who had seen more battles than their years should allow.
"Damn, Ubel!" Bastille said, shaking his head. "I knew you had a big ship, but this... this is something else! You were hiding all of these? All this time?"
"We've seen a lot in our time, but we didn’t expect anything like this." Linus nodded in agreement.
“I remembered that you grabbed the three freighters that we had captured with you after you left… but what do you need those freighters for when you already have these…” Eris asked.
Creed whistled low as he turned to Ubel, his voice dripping with disbelief.
“Y-you starting a navy or something?”
Ubel waved off the remark with a smirk.
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“Hardly, just… love collecting things. Hoarding stuff that I think would be cool to collect was one of my hobbies,” he replied, though even he had to admit that the sight of so many ships at his disposal was impressive. “Some of these are just… precautionary measures.”
Creed chuckled, but the awe never left his eyes as he looked around the docking bay again.
"Yeah, ‘precautions’..."
But Creed’s comment wasn’t entirely off. The sheer scale of the Blitzkrieg and its armada did look like a personal navy, though Ubel had never intended it that way. He saw Mei raise an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she took in the sight.
“Collecting things? These look like they could take on a planetary defense fleet.”
Even Ubel, who had walked these decks countless times, couldn’t deny the sense of awe he still felt when looking out at the fleet of ships inside his vessel. It was staggering. He had created all of these ships meticulously behind a keyboard, mouse, and monitor in his past life. Turning the Blitzkrieg into not just a warship, but a mobile armada capable of taking on nearly any challenge.
“I admit, it’s impressive,” Ubel finally said, as he gestured to the ships and then leaned against a railing, gazing at the now-former Demonic Monkeys, his face quickly became more serious. “Now, tell me why you're here and why you assisted me… again.”
Creed exchanged glances with Bastille, Linus, Mei, and the others. They all seemed hesitant as if they weren’t sure how Ubel would react.
“Well… in truth we actually didn’t come all this way just to gawk at your toys.” Ursa dryly said. And as if these words motivated their representative to start finally, Creed spoke up, his tone more earnest than usual.
“We want to join you, Ubel. We’ve thought about it, talked it over, and… this is what we want. If you want us to prove our worth before being accepted this time, we will do it.”
"We’ve seen what you can do, and we know it’s better to follow someone who knows how to keep us alive and more than go back to whatever Elpano and Kugal are trying to scrape together." Bastille supported his captain’s words. “Things haven’t been the same since you left.”
"Yes… the entire crew of Godright wishes to join you." Eris nodded at Bastille’s statement. A chorus of voices rose in response. Mostly were the crew of the Godright and others who saw the benefits of working under Ubel as they felt the massive wealth and income he could provide under his leadership. They all raised their arms, affirming their allegiance to Ubel and their willingness to follow him into the unknown.
"You are a better commander than anyone we ever had." Creed continued. "Me and others may not understand your motives or your methods, but I know one thing for certain: you've always had the knack in the life of an outlaw and command, and that is worthy in our eyes, even when we didn't realize it previously."
“Well… technically Elpano isn’t in charge anymore after you left.” Ursa inserted herself dryly again as she kicked a small insect droid that mistook her as a climbing platform to resume its maintenance work.
Ubel blinked in surprise. He had expected something along these lines, but hearing it outright made him pause. His hand instinctively went to the back of his head as he scratched it, trying to process their request. He didn’t want to reject them outright, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring them along on his next ventures.
“I appreciate the offer,” Ubel started, choosing his words carefully, “but I was planning on starting clean. No baggage, no old ties. I’ve had enough of the-”
“We will not become baggage. We’re skilled and experienced, and we can be of use to you. You need people you can trust out here. You can’t do everything on your own.” Creed, not one to be easily deterred, pressed on.
“And I am sure the droids did a good job several times for you.” Eris teased him, reminding him of the limits of the inorganic army he had.
He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the holo display on his wrist, pulling up the list of crew members who had accepted his offer of 500,000 credits when he left. But something caught his eye—144 names remained marked as ‘pending’, which meant—
They hadn’t taken the payout.
"Wait a minute," Ubel muttered, scanning the list again. "You... you never accepted the credits I sent you."
"That’s right. We didn’t take the payout because we didn’t want it. We didn’t want to leave." Creed nodded.
Ubel sighed heavily again, rubbing his temples, conflicted. Almost a third of the Demonic Monkeys, the crew who had followed him through countless battles and raids, had refused to take the easy exit he offered. And now they were, standing before him, asking for a chance to join him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The real reason he saved them from being destroyed by UGTR was because he didn’t want to owe them anything after they saved him twice. Also, they got his full interest that he didn’t want them leaving for the afterlife without him knowing what they would become in the future after what they did. He was the kind of player who would choose to spare named characters, not because he wanted to do anything good or be chivalrous but because, for him, a living character would bring more interesting new things and experiences in each encounter than a dead one. An either a good or bad habit that he had brought with him in this new life.
He could see Kiryu in the corner of his eyes. Although he had his back turned away from Ubel, the shaking shoulders tell him that Kiryu was enjoying himself, much to the annoyance of Ubel.
“And what happens when we run into your old bosses? Kugal and Elpano aren’t going to be too happy about this.”
“They’re already losing control of the fleet. It’s only a matter of time before everything splinters. We’ve made our choice.” Creed shrugged.
Ubel thought for a long moment. His instinct told him to decline, to keep his plans clean, but a part of him—a small, almost mischievous part—was intrigued by the idea of having these skilled pirates by his side again.
Ubel scratched his head again, trying to figure out how to address this. He was about to respond when he heard one growling stomach which he laughed.
Finally, he gave them a wry smile.
"Look," Ubel finally replied then pointed at the command droid who followed his back. "For now, head to the cantina and ease up. Follow this droid, he will lead you there. There’s a feast waiting for you. After that, we’ll talk."
The crew nodded, grateful for the reprieve. They moved toward the ship’s cantina, their expressions lighting up at the thought of food and drink. Ubel watched as they filtered out, he couldn’t shake the weight of their request, but he knew one thing for sure—they weren’t going anywhere. They’d saved him twice, and now they were asking for a chance to stay by his side.
Sighing, Ubel turned back toward his holo displays, scanning the last of the repair reports.
“Drones, report,” Ubel commanded, and his holo interface flared to life, filling with data as his swarm of drones and droids began to send the results of their meticulous inspection of the ship.
The holo-display in front of Ubel split into dozens of smaller panels, each representing a different area of the ship.
“Forward compartments—moderate damage to the outer plating. Non-critical systems offline. Structural integrity at 75%.”
“Energy leak breach on Deck 14—currently contained, no depressurization.”
“Engine bay—negligible damage, no immediate threat to propulsion.”
“Weapons systems—50% of missile silos are operational, energy turrets have sustained power fluctuations.”
Ubel frowned. He wasn’t happy about the power disruptions in the energy turrets, but at least the ship was still functional. The Blitzkrieg, with its massive size and impressive firepower, was designed to withstand punishment. This time, the UGTR navy had pushed them harder than usual.
“Deploy more repair drones to each of the weapon turrets. I want full integrity in under two hours,” Ubel instructed. His eyes skimmed the damage reports, committing the most serious issues to memory. “Begin rerouting power to the secondary energy banks.”
The droids in the control room hummed in response, already initiating the repairs. Ubel trusted them implicitly. Machines were efficient, and efficiency was something he valued more than ever after battles like these. The drones had done their job, and the Blitzkrieg was returning to full functionality. Now all that was left was to decide what to do next—and that decision would have to wait until after he dealt with the loyalty of his old crew, or whether he could call it loyalty.
He was setting out to start anew, something entirely his whim—but perhaps, having a few familiar faces with him wouldn’t hurt after all.
For now, though, he had promised them a feast.