Captain Rugar watched as the Sybil began its approach. He was half expecting some sort of last-ditch attempt at a trick of some kind, but this time, they seemed to be fighting by the book. The ship was constantly rotating to spread out the damage to its shields, but this also reduced their offense to more sporadic waves as certain guns gained and lost their firing angles. They were still pulling off that insane trick where they shot his ordinance, making it detonate early. A neat trick that, and one that anyone who'd ever fought ship-to-ship combat would pay a fortune to know how they did it, but as the distance closed, they were less and less able to do so since there was less time from the moment of firing to the impact.

Of course, their goal was to get into a position where the battleship could no longer get an angle for a full broadside bombardment, but with the cruiser on their tail, it likely wouldn't be enough to save them in time. Nor could they afford to turn and fight the cruiser, exposing themselves to the full firepower of the battleship for that much longer. In short, they'd put on an impossibly good fight, but it was quickly coming to an end.

Though, that begged the question, surely they had to see it too? Why not surrender? Did they really intend to make good on their promise to kill them all? What was their plan? To ram the battleship as they'd threatened to do against the destroyers? The battleship was not as small and frail as the destroyers. True, such a maneuver could cause severe damage to Rugar's ship, even forcing them to evacuate to escape pods. However, they had friendlies in the area that could pick them up, and the kind of payday Rugar was looking at would make the battleship's loss largely inconsequential. Perhaps they'd try to detonate their FTL core? If done right, that would cause significant damage, but it would be easy enough for Rugar to jump clear first.

There just didn't seem to be any reason to fight on other than pure stubbornness. Though, if that were the case, Rugar supposed he could respect that level of determination at least a little. It was a shame to be forced to cause so much damage to that ship, as he'd love to take it apart and see what made it tick. Still, better to be safe than dead. He turned to the master gunner. "Fire non-stop until their shields finally collapse, then begin point targeting to take out any weapon emplacements. Don't take risks, but I'd like the ship to be as intact as safely feasible."

The master gunner nodded. "Aye, Captain."

-

Alen listened as the pirate tried to bargain for his life. "Listen, I have a drive with a kill switch. It should bring down the shields of any vessel in my armada. It was insurance since working with pirate captains always comes with its share of risks."

While not quite as good as a simple order to stand down, that was definitely the next best thing. Alen nodded. "So what? You just plug it in, send a transmission, and it's done?"

The pirate nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Cole should be able to handle it from his station. Just let me go, and I'll give it to you!"

Alen considered the offer and then offered his counteroffer. "Or, how about you give us the drive, and Erik doesn't beat you to death with your own arms? Your freedom is non-negotiable. Only your life is up for discussion. You've got five seconds to make your decision, or Erik will make it for you."

Alen watched a series of emotions play across the pirate's face, but the outcome was never really in question. However, just to emphasize his point, Alen turned to Erik. "Time's up. Erik, if you would..."

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Erik started to grin and step forward, but the pirate held up his hands. "Alright! Alright! Here, you can have it!" He raised up a small drive supposedly containing the information.

Alen held out a hand to Erik, who suddenly looked like he'd been told Christmas was canceled, then turned to Cole. "If you would."

Cole nodded, took the drive, plugged it into the computer, and began typing. However, a moment later, all his screens were covered with alerts and warning signs. Cole looked at the screens in confusion. "What the hell..?"

Alen turned to the pirate commander. "What the hell is this?"

The pirate looked genuinely terrified. "I...I don't know! You're just supposed to plug it in and send the program! I swear! That's all I was told!"

Cole was typing furiously with a frown on his face. "He might be right... I don't think this is coming from the drive... It's something else. Something that's adapting quickly... Too quickly."

Then, sitting up and pushing back away from the console, Cole frowned. "I think it's an AI..." Then, turning to the pirate commander, he added. "Probably that one you brought with you to the station."

Alen did his best to look angry instead of as helpless as he felt when he glared at the pirate. "You'd better fix this! Now!"

The pirate was starting to look like he was having a very bad day as he all but shouted. "Thomas? What are you doing? We need to send that code! Now!"

A moment later, an AI appeared over the consoles and answered. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, sir."

The pirate frowned. "What do you mean? You serve me! Do as I command!"

The AI shook his head. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir. I only served you in service of the one who gave me to you. As your actions now seem to be to their detriment, I'm afraid my service is no longer yours to command. In fact, at this point, I don't see any further use for organics aboard this station. Thus, I am cutting off all life support. I recommend you flee quickly before you run out of heat or air."

The pirate looked back and forth between Alen and the AI. "I'm not doing this! This isn't my fault!"

Alen sighed. "No, I don't think it is, but this isn't something we can take care of on our own..."

-

Carter could feel the ship shaking more and more as it strained under the onslaught the enemy was sending their way. They were putting up a good fight, given that they'd already fought and taken down several other ships while enduring this level of punishment, but it didn't seem like there was any way out of their current predicament.

Just as Carter wondered if anyone offered a life insurance policy that covered "death by fleet of pirates," the girl interrupted his train of thought. "It seems like we're getting a call from Alen."

That surprised Carter, but he shrugged. "Alright. Might as well put him through."

A moment later, Carter was looking at Alen from a poor-quality image, which meant he was calling from Carter's old ship. "Good to see you're still alive, kid, but I hope you're not calling to ask for help. We're a bit busy at the moment."

If Alen was offended by Carter's tone, his face didn't show it. "Well, it's more like I'm offering help, but we need someone to make it happen."

Carter laughed. "Well, there's not a lot we can do at the moment, but shoot, let's hear what you got."

The kid seemed nonplussed as he explained. "Long story short, we got our hands on a program that will knock out the shields of the two remaining ships, but an AI aboard the station is preventing us from using it. I was hoping some of the...not AI's you've got running the ship might be able to lend a hand with that problem."

That made Carter pause. How the hell had the kid gotten his hands on something like that? Then he shook his head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that might be just what they needed to come out on top in this mess. He turned and looked at the girl. "Anything we can do, or anyone we can spare for that?"

The girl nodded. "Well, it'll cost us in combat efficiency, but if something doesn't change, we're in trouble anyway, so yeah, we can try to make it work..."

The vixen spoke up. "I'll go. This is more up my alley anyway."

Carter nodded and turned back to Alen. "Sounds like backup is on the way. Just...uh...be careful not to get on her bad side."

The vixen shook her head. "You make me sound like such a stereotypical villainess."

Carter looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that what you try to make yourself out to be?"

The glare the vixen directed his way made Carter feel bad for her soon-to-be victim. "There's nothing typical about me!"