Chapter 1:

It was roughly ten Terran years since the war ended, what the Terrans call the Hundred Years War, or the War of Victory. It was a conflict that lasted far too long and almost ended in absolute xenocide. The Terrans were few and spread thin, but no one dared test them or approach them since then, although some did try.

All they got in response was a "fuck off," a vulgar Terran expression, basically a malicious way of saying "stay away from us." So, we all did.

If, by any chance, the dysfunctional Small Council, for whatever reason, decided to eliminate the Terrans, we would most likely be victorious, but the cost would be far too great to even attempt it, and we had no reason for such action. In any case, they have never threatened us.

We were all shaken by what the Terrans did, but not at all surprised. The "Tor" had it coming; it was their own fault, and not one single race decided to intervene, neither from the Small Council nor the outer races from further in the galaxy.

And here we were now, in dead space. We call it dead not because it is an empty void, but because everything was dead here. Every star that sustained life or could sustain life was destroyed and polluted by the Terrans. It was not only done to eliminate the Tor, but it was also a warning for the rest of us to steer clear of their borders.

They call this dead zone "no man's land," another Terran expression, though this one wasn't vulgar. It meant that this part of the galaxy was devoid of life and belongs to no one, and that it should stay that way. We know that the Terrans have automated defense platforms in some of these systems. It's a show of force on their part, more than anything else.

We were moving with full thrusters, and we were near the border of Terran space. Only two of our six escorts remain. The Fusar were slowly hunting us. The FTL drive is damaged, and we have a former council leader on the ship. This was the last position any transportation Captain wanted to find himself in.

The Fusar are raiders and slavers, a race of scavengers. That's how they made their wealth; that's how they expanded their borders and became a military force in the galaxy. They caught us completely off guard, in the middle of our own system. They came deep into what we thought was the comfort of our borders.

It was a fleet of 21 ships: 20 cruisers and a destroyer that was half a cargo carrier and slave ship, a combination of all three. That was the command vessel. It wasn't the largest raiding party they sent out, but it was by no means small. A transport vessel like ours carried valuable goods as well as wealthy passengers. That's why we always flew with an escort; the tax was worth it by the amount of riches we made by transporting our cargo.

We were a luxury transporter. I wasn't afraid of raiders or pirate groups; the escort ships usually made quick work of them. But they couldn't stop a Fusar raiding fleet. As soon as we noticed them, we tried to flee. They quickly spread out their ships to block any escape route.

I had no choice but to boost the FTL drive and jump.

And I did, straight into dead space. I bet the Fusar were surprised by that. I, at least, wish I could have seen the look on their ugly faces.

Four of the six escorts engaged their fleet and no doubt put up a fight. It didn't matter how good they were; they were highly outnumbered.

But we had to jump. Just as our ship was about to go into hyperspace, a powerful tremor could be felt throughout the ship.

We were hit. Our drive malfunctioned mid-jump, and the two escorts that were synced with our ship got caught in the unnatural FTL pull our larger engine created.

They were trying to stop our movement to keep us on course. I hastily ordered a jump, so I wasn't even aware of the precise exit point. I just didn't want to get us anywhere near Terran space.

Finally, the FTL drive gave out, and we came to a very unpleasant stop.

A dead stop in dead space, with a dead FTL drive, and with the way things were going, we may end up dead soon.

Our sensors picked up that the Fusar had jumped after us, trying to trace the FTL trail we left behind. They didn't expect us to go into dead space, and we didn't intend to jump this far, only enough to get away from them. I didn't even dream that they would be stupid enough to jump after us. Did they have a death wish?

We were close to the Terran border. I’m not sure that either fate would be pleasant.

The Fusar would take the cargo, enslave most of the crew, and ransom off the passengers. And execute the rest, including me.

And the Terrans, well, the Terrans might just give us a quick death if we’re lucky.

We couldn't go back the way we came from, especially not on thrusters alone. Knowing that the Fusar were most likely spread across the border line scanning for us, our best option would be to navigate the dead zone. Though even that was dangerous, since I was very well aware that there were still stations and outposts that were fully operational. Not that anyone was operating them; they were just programmed to fire on anything that moves. If we followed the dead zone all the way to Ta’Kyan space, it would take us six months, since we were forced to use thrusters, and hoping that the damn Fusar decided to give up. We may be able to change course back to our borders sooner, but still, only having thrusters, it would take us two months at the very least.

I gave the order for us to keep moving on full thrusters towards Ta’Kyan space. What a mess this turned out to be. Am I being too hopeful thinking we may get out of this ordeal alive?

The sensor operator snapped me back to the present. He sounded frantic.

"Sir, sir, our distress beacon is transmitting!"

"What? Turn the damn thing off."

"I tried sir. It's malfunctioning."

"Then pull the damn conduit. This is not the time to transmit any long-range signals."

"I did sir, I pulled out the conduit as soon as I saw it transmitting. I even attempted an override. I panicked and…"

I cut him off.

"And what?"

"Nothing seems to work sir, the signal is still broadcasting. Whatever happened to our FTL drive must have had an effect on other systems. There is no way of turning it off."

Before I had the time to curse the Fusar, my sensor operator, the gods-forsaken FTL core, and my life, I got a new report, one that frightened me far more than the Fusar.

"Sir, a lone ship is picked up by our sensors. It's right outside the Terran border. It seems heavily armed. It broadcast a message. Sir, it FTL’d out to Terran space."

"It FTL’d out? How can a ship just FTL out? I'm not thinking clearly right now."

“The message, Sir?"

"What's the damned

 message?"

"Yes sir, they sent a message, no visuals, no audio, just plain text, it's in our script sir.

“Will read it.”

“Yes sir”

 “This is Terran border patrol, you have reached the border of the Terran Dominion, turn back now, this will be your only warning” 

“That's the end of the message  sir.”

Well that's just perfect, they must have scanned us, they must be aware that we can only move so fast with thrusters alone, why send the message in the first place, why not turn us into space dust and be done with it, 

This was supposed to be a standard transport run, what did we do to deserve this, it's that damned ClanHead, I knew he would bring misfortune.

“Sir”

Oh what now, what's next?

“Si…”

“Report damn it!”

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“We are picking up multiple signatures exiting FTL from our original course, it's the Fusar sir, the entire fleet as it seems. They are hailing us Sir,”

“Put them on screen.”

I strengthened my uniform, tried my best to put on a brave face, and faced the screen, an image of a black and dark brown scaly figure with four large black eyes was staring back at me, damn the Fusar were such ugly creatures, 

I cleared my throat and began to speak.

” am ShipMaster Dorfo, lead of the transport vessel Luxury 06, belonging to the Strunin Collective. 

What are your demands?”

I said trying not to look intimidated by the ugly insectoid,

“Settle down ShipMaster, you and your cargo now belong to the Fusar imperium, you will not be harmed and prepare to be boarded.”

A sudden flow of rage came over me, all composure leaving me, with my newfound courage I yelled back at the damned insect,

“Listen to me you overgrown bug, I am not surrendering anything to a creature lacking the common courtesy to give even a proper introduction, we do not belong to you, and you are not in the safety of your imperium, this is dead space, and we will die here if we have to”

my whole crew was looking at me with wide eyes as I transmitted my order to them and the remaining escorts.

“Weapons on maximum, they can turn us into dust but they will not turn us into slaves, prepare to advance!”

As the crew was preparing to execute my orders, the sensor operator spoke again, what in five hells is it now, 

“Sir six large vessels just exited FTL, they are almost directly above us, one of them is massive,

They… they are Terran sir.”

All of my newfound courage left me in an instant, and I transmitted an order to all of our ships, 

“Power down all weapons, lower our shields, NOW, FIVE HELLS NOW!

do not try to move!”

There was a long pause, I didn't dare give the order to scan the Terran ship, nor were our sensors detecting anything except their presence, the Fusar were holding their attack formation, our sensors were picking up that their weapons are armed, and no doubt their shields as were up, it took all my courage but I have never seen a Terran Vessel up close before, if we were going to die anyway, we could at least take a look.

“Give me a visual on the Terran craft, take no further action.”

The crew was visibly on edge, but carried out my orders. 

I took a look on the live projection of the Terran ships, I didn't know if the Terran ships had a class or designation, all I could really see was their size, the first thing I noticed was the largest craft, it was enormous, I have never seen a vessel that large in my life, it was easily three times the size of an average destroyer, it had a long rectangular shape, with something on top that looked like a cannon, except it was the length of the entire ship, it was giving off a white glow at its front, it can't possibly be a cannon, it may just be some strange Terran engine design, the gods only know how much power that thing might need.

Then there were the other ships, two of them had a similar design to the first ship excluding the cannon-shaped object on top of the vessels, they were roughly the size of standard battleships, maybe slightly larger,

The next three had a sleek triangular design, they were the size of heavy cruisers, 

The final ship was the smallest of the group, smaller than even our escorts, but by the looks of it, it had enough armaments to take on a whole escort group.

I was too preoccupied to notice at first, but now I saw it, the chill down my spine was making me jolt, I started to shake uncontrollably and all the hairs on my body stiffened, I felt like I was suffocating.

It was the “Death's Head” many species put markings and symbols on their ships, many ships or fleets have their name in their scripture, the Terrans did both, but the reason this symbol was so frightening is the fact that it belonged to the Terran extermination fleet, the Terrans had a fleet specifically tasked on performing xenocide, this was the fleet responsible for eliminating the “Tor” from the known galaxy, only 10 years ago they glassed the Torranian home world, killing ten billion souls, and purging their home system of all life, the symbol had a white Terran skull with two what we suspect were bones in a cross pattern below it. 

It represented only one thing, death!

Of all the Terran ships we could have encountered it had to be the Death's Head, and that enormous thing above us must be their command ship, go into transportation they said, it's safe and honest work they said, you can become rich they said, no one ever said I'd have the deadliest Terran fleet right above my gods forsaken ship!

Chapter 2:

“Where is he damnit?”

Adams asked, annoyed.

"In his quarters, most likely sleeping sir."

The security officer replied, looking at the tablet that monitored the crew locations on the ship.

"Well, someone go down and wake him up, I want his ass here in 5 minutes."

Adams was feeling a little on edge, with the sudden appearance of the xenos on the border.

"Aye, sir."

The security officer said, slightly irritated by the Admiral.

"I'll go, better if I wake him."

Said a very large Ape, seemingly unfazed by the whole ordeal and the attitude of the stand-in high admiral. No one protested his decision to wake Mihajlovich up.

Mihajlovich was in his quarters, finally managing to fall asleep after more than thirty hours. Since the war ended, he wasn't the same man, but he refused to leave his ship, or what used to be his ship. His official designation was “sick leave” though the chances of him being put back into active duty practically were zero. Although he still had his rank, all his clearances were removed, well almost. They were removed everywhere except in his fleet that is. They were still active there to an extent. Of course, the admiralty pulled all his clearances in general, but his engineers blocked that order, managing to do a system override. Unwell or not, he was their admiral. After all, they weren't loyal to the admiralty, they were loyal to Mihajlovich alone.

Admiral Grayback made his way to the officer's deck 01, where the officers with the highest rank had their living quarters. He made his way down the corridor until he reached his destination. “A. Mihajlovich,” it said on the door, the plate with the rank missing below the name.

He sighed and started banging on the door. He really didn't want to wake up his friend. He knew Aleks hardly slept because of the nightmares. He often found him in various states of mental and physical decay. This was his brother after all, the only brother he knows. The two became orphans at the same time practically, growing up together, serving together. They climbed the ranks side by side for decades. He really didn't want to wake up Aleks, but he had to.

But that damn stick-up-the-ass admiral was demanding his presence on the bridge. Gregory hated the admiral, well not him specifically but the admiralty for putting him in charge of the fleet. But that imbecile wanted Aleks on the bridge so here he was, banging on the door like a maniac. He was banging so hard he put a dent in the thing. He wanted to punch something, so the door had to be the victim.

"Come on Aleks, wake up, there's a situation and Mr. 'I command this fleet'," he said in a mocking voice, "demands your presence on the bridge. It's a wonder he can wipe his own ass, Aleks? Shit."

Gregory punched the side panel next to the door, connected his data pad to the security mechanisms, and performed a system override. The door opened, Aleks was clearly passed out, an empty bottle of pills in his hand. Gregory sat down next to his friend, a sad look in his eyes.

"I’m sorry to do this to you old friend, but duty calls."

Gregory took out a stimulant syringe out of his pocket. He hesitated for a moment looking at his best friend, then rammed the syringe into his friend's chest hitting the discharge button.

Aleks’s eyes flew open in shock, and he took a deep breath, trying not to choke.

"WA, WHAT the fuck Megillah! You trying to kill me, there are easier ways to do that you know?" he said, confused, he was still under the influence of the pills he took.

"Sorry Aleks, the err admiral needs you on the bridge, there's been a development."

"Anything fun?" The large Ape grinned, "Maybe, but let's find out."

Mihajlovich put his boots on and grabbed a clean t-shirt from a pile on his chair. It had a large death head on the front, and “reaper” printed on the back. He didn't bother putting on a uniform.

Then he stood up and exited his quarters and made his way to the bridge, Gregory now walking next to him.. 

Chapter 3:

Where is that madman? One time he's actually needed, he's asleep!

Admiral Adams wasn't happy at all in his current position. He had been a stand-in for Mihajlovich for the last six years, ever since his psychological breakdown. He didn't like this fleet, its crew, or his position. He especially hated the situation he found himself in. There was an entire fleet close to the border, and another three ships right on the edge of Terran space. This was a crisis, and there should be at least three admirals present to plan a course of action. Unfit for duty or not, Mihajlovich was the only admiral aside from Gregory who could give a green light for any action. Adams was starting to get nervous.

"What's wrong, Adams? Getting tired from sitting in the chair?" Mihajlovich asked with amusement.

Adams turned and was about to speak when Mihajlovich cut him off.

"Spare me the lecture and moral grandstanding. What's the situation?"

Before Adams could share any input or give an answer, the information officer spoke, addressing Mihajlovich and visibly ignoring Adams.

"Sir, we have a fleet twenty-one vessels strong. Fusar raiders, as it seems. They look to be in formation. There are twenty cruiser-class ships, and what seems to be a command ship at the rear, battle-class. Their weapons are primed, and they have been extending hails."

"Did you tell them to fuck off?"

"Um, yes sir. We are still broadcasting the warning message. Also, sir, there are three smaller craft below us, Strunin Collective. One is a transport craft with a highly damaged FTL core, and two escort craft. It appears they have powered down their shields and weapons intentionally upon our arrival."

The bridge was silent for a moment. All eyes were turned to Mihajlovich, who seemed to have an actual serious expression on his face. His unkempt beard and disheveled hair made him look somehow more menacing to what was once his crew. It seemed that the high admiral was back, his mind calculating, his senses clear. It had been years since he left his seat, but in this moment, the crew saw their leader. Even Adams seemed to look uncomfortable.

Mihajlovich took a breath and spoke.

"Adams, I'm taking over."

Admiral Adams needed a moment to come to his senses.

"WHAT? You must be joking. You're not serious. You are in no state to command. Only a medical assembly can approve your reinstatement. You are not mentally fit to command this vessel. I only called you in because of the 'C' class situation. I just need you to nod your head when I make a decision."

"So Adams, you deem this a 'C' class situation?" Mihajlovich asked.

Adams was getting furious. He was in no mood for the antics of madman Mihajlovich, definitely not now.

"Yes, you lunatic. There is a whole fucking fleet at our border. It's a high-risk situation. What the hell is wrong with you? Get your mind out of the gutter. I need to finalize the course of action, so please be reasonable for once."

Adams was fuming. Even the bridge crew was surprised. They were also very well aware that Mihajlovich more than understood the situation.

"Since this is a C-class situation, as deemed by you and admiral Grayback," Mihajlovich looked at Greg, who nodded, "I do not need a full psychological evaluation. All I need is the approval of the lead medical officer for the fleet, with the rank of Chief or higher. Luckily enough, we have one on board."

Adams looked wide-eyed. Mihajlovich can't be serious, can he?

"She's not gonna approve that. She has sessions with you every day. I know you are nowhere near fit for duty."

Mihajlovich smiled and activated his comms device.

"Chief Medical Officer Nebiyou, this is High Admiral Mihajlovich Aleksandar. Based on your professional opinion, am I physically and psychologically clear for duty? We find ourselves in a high-risk situation, C class. I request medical clearance to reassume command."

Adams' eyes went even wider at this.

"You can't be serious. He's in no condition to command. He can't be reinstated."

Another moment of silence. Mihajlovich was now looking at Adams, almost smiling.

Then the medical officer responded.

"High Admiral Mihajlovich Aleksandar, as the Chief Medical Officer of the Black Fleet, based on my professional opinion and psychological and medical evaluation, I deem you fit for active duty and command of this fleet. You are hereby cleared to resume your active position as High Admiral of the Terran Dominion."

Mihajlovich smiled. Adams was outraged.

"That is your final decision based on the situation, Chief Officer?"

"Yes," Rahel responded.

"Thank you. Please resume your duty," Mihajlovich said.

"Understood, sir," Rahel said and cut comms.

Mihajlovich walked up to the command chair where Adams was still sitting, lost for words. Then Mihajlovich smiled and addressed him.

"Hey there, pilgrim. You're sitting in my chair. Move."

Adams was confused for a moment and then spoke.

"You can't be serious. You can't just…"

Mihajlovich cut him off.

"Listen here, Adams. I am taking over. Now get out of my chair. Admiral Grayback, you are my number one. Take the seat to my right. Adams, you can either resume your duty as my number two and take the chair to my left, or be confined to quarters or the brig for disobedience. Your choice. But I am taking over. Now get out of my chair!"

Adams stood up.

"Yes, sir," he said resentfully. Gregory took his seat to the right. Mihajlovich looked at the third chair, which was currently occupied by Commander Kaiyo Usui.

"Usui, you are on Security. Give your current position to Admiral Adams."

Commander Usui nodded and stood up. Like clockwork, the rest of the bridge crew shifted around and retook their positions. Mihajlovich didn't have to say another word. Adams took his place and without saying anything..

Mihajlovich sat down in the command chair. It had been six years, but he sat down.

He opened comms to all of his surrounding vessels and addressed the crews across the ships.

"This is High Admiral Mihajlovich. I am taking command of this fleet. You know the drill. I hope you haven't gone soft on me and still remember how to follow orders."

In unison, the captains of the surrounding Terran craft gave a "Yes, sir," which made Mihajlovich smile.

"Alright, time to deal with the Xenos."