"Sumulka na samelka", roughly translated to the common language means to fight or to flee. A term many Korvenin’s coined as the two vital options when dealing with an opponent. This saying was widely used by my people to define the only options to conflict. The brave warriors fight while the cowards flee. A derogatory term applied to those who flee, perhaps this was related to our past as a warrior culture. With a firm belief in victory through force. The tactical assessment of such a binary statement is rather narrow as there is always a benefit in fleeing to ensure survival. Until the next battle where proper planning can be implemented. Perhaps this concept along with my people's natures lead to their downfall, perhaps not. But I believe there is a third course of action in between the desire to fight and the need to flee. That course of action is to not fight at all. This concept will forever be evident in my current circumstance as the strange creature levels an unfamiliar weapon to my face, shouting in a strange language.

Now you may be wondering how this situation came about. A strange alien-like creature with four arms, grey leathery skin, three insectoid eyes and two legs. Aiming something that is like our military's handguns in his right uppermost hand. His three other arms rest gently at his sides. I wonder why he does not carry more weapons in his other hands. There are several other similar creatures behind him, five in total. His weapon intrigues me as he continues to spout more of those strange terms. I believe he desires me to enter this spacecraft. Oh yes, these gentlemen descended from the skies in what I originally believed to be an aerial vehicle. Yet considering their alien-like visage and the fact my bunkers network determined the point of origin of this ship came from the outer atmosphere. My only answer was alien spacecraft from some space-fairing civilisation. Any other member of my race would be ecstatic to learn of life on other planets. I am more concerned with the military capabilities of a likely more advanced species.

If I were to act in accordance with my people's way of "Sumulka" to this obvious threat. I would likely die from that strange weapon with the appearance of a handgun. It was a bulkier, rectangle shape shaft with two prongs extending from the barrel perhaps an energy-based weapon. From this conclusion, they are likely highly advanced leading to my new addition to the way of fighting. "Sumulka, samelka na mep leroma", to fight, to flee or to do nothing. And so, I obeyed and was taken aboard their vessel without violence.

The memories of my brief stint of being born from a cloning vat with knowledge of my society embedded into my mind. Wandering and learning for years before I sent a distress signal quickly faded as I was led into an alien spacecraft. The architecture was simpler than I had initially expected. I had thought it would be of exotic make. But alas it was remarkably like the Samkeen Aerial fighters mass-produced by the Empire. The long corridor into this spacecraft was a dull rusted grey leading to a modest cabin. The cabin seems to be the central part of the ship with three hallways leading to other locations. Likely to the bridge and perhaps the ship quarters. There is a circular lounge with a table in the centre littered with various paraphernalia. Indented into the wall on the north side seems to be a control panel. I am not able to observe much more as I am quickly forced to the right-side hallway, leading down to the bowels of the ship. I can guess where I am going and am immediately proven correct as they lock me in a cell.

The strange creature with a large diagonal scar across his face closes the cell door by placing two of his right hands upon two rectangular panels. The panels light up and the sound of a locking mechanism resounds. The scarred alien gestures with what I believe is either a snort or some sort of facial excretion. Either way, he vacated rather promptly. Thought my situation could be considered dire by most. Of course, a plan has already begun to form. The only change in my plan is the addition of a new variable. I am not alone within this ship's brig. An interesting case as this new variable turns to me from the other side of adjoining cells. Speaking a familiar language similar to the one my captor speaks through a different dialect, I think.

The strange humanoid differs from my captors such as being similar in dimensions to me except for having blue skin. Two arms with three fingers on each hand. The alien's head seems a bit large for his small body with an oval cranium. Extended ears on the sides and no pupils. The being continues to speak in the unknown language. Until a statement along with a hand gesture pointing to his mouth and then mine speaking something along the lines of. "Salvoko maktha Shahnese?" These words are curious and have an air of a question. I decide to repeat the words as best I can, not quite getting the pronunciation, I think.

The creature's eyes widen in recognition as he continues to speak in his odd tongue. Almost slurring his words, a speech impediment or perhaps he is inebriated. Though I doubt a prisoner like myself would be able to get such alcoholic beverages whilst imprisoned. He continues to speak, curious at this language I lean forward to the cell bars. Trying to discern what he is saying. With a thought, my standard-issue neural implant begins recording the events. My optic nerve and sensory input, analyse and categorise every word he utters.

To verify something, I enunciate the word I believe is the term describing his language. "Shahnese?" I state as I point to him and then to my own mouth. Gesturing an understanding between us beyond such language barriers. Spending a few cycles with the strange alien while I point at various objects. He eagerly pronounces the definition in Shahnese. After some time, I have gained a limited grasp of the language and of the alien before me.

His name is Quroken Jawell from the Pintonian species one of the "Kumatow" which means slave or servant under the Shah Star Empire. This empire intrigues me but still, my grasp of the language is minimal. I was only able to get the base information from my new compatriot.

Some time passes a few cycles to be precise and the time to act has finally come. Right on queue, the cell guard arrives with some form of sustenance. It tastes rather horrible but has some nutrition. He passes by my cell and places the food on the ground of Quroken's cell. Turning to me he snarls and walks over to my cell to repeat the same act with the second plate. I proceed to move close to the cell bars and speak in my native tongue. "Greetings guard might I trouble you to open the cell door and release me?" Knowing full well he cannot understand a word I say.

The guard simply snarls once more and slowly moves the plate forward as if to taunt me with his slow movement. As his mouth forms into a grin and his superiority has hit its peak I speak once more. "Remtak ko paluner maganta aka." I hope I got the translation correct in Shahnese, it doesn't translate very well to Korvenese. Basically, it is an insult to his clutch bearer, insinuating they form clutches with other clutch masters instead of their assigned ones. They seem to have an arranged mating system for reproduction curious method to be sure. My species has no such arranged pairing except for the old nobility of the long past. The common folk were free to pair with whoever they chose.

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The guard's face turns bestial and he eyes me like a predator. His wrath reaches an unfathomable peak as he lunges forward through the bars with his four arms. A savage attack with four appendages is a unique opponent but attacking with bestial rage lacks precision and accuracy. I immediately duck down and avoid his wide-range attack. Turned to the left and grasped both of his right arms. I pin them to the cell bars twisting them in the wrong direction. As expected, similar ball and socket joints for his appendages. Flustered he tries to move for his weapon strapped to his right-side hip. Before he can place pressure on his right arm, I feel a crack-like sensation. Pain courses through his arm and he immediately tries to express it noisily.

I reach through the bars with my remaining free hand and grasp his neck. The rise and fall of his chest as he snarled indicated his species' necessity to breathe through their mouth. Squeezing tightly, I drag the gasping guard through the cell bars and twist his neck with a single swift movement. No crack resounds, the simulations did not prepare me for real life so it seems. I place more pressure, the sound of this alien's death rings in my ear as he slumps to the floor, lifeless.

I turn to Quroken who is shaking in panic in the corner of his cell, an expected reaction. I turn to the deceased guard, ignoring Quroken for the moment. Grasping his broken right arm, I manoeuvre them through the bars and place them on the panels. It takes some time, but I manage to disengage the locking mechanism. Freeing myself from this drab little cell. I then push the corpse to the ground and plunder all items on his body. The contents consist of a rectangular device with a small indent in the centre. A few small crystals and what looks to be a small combat knife. There is also a handgun strapped to his waist.

The two non-combat-related items, I swiftly pocket before withdrawing the blade from its sheath. The blade seems rather ordinary, similar to the blades from my extensive knowledge of Samsiran weaponry. But with a small button on the grip just before the blade. Clenching the blade in my right hand I press the button. It then glows red, radiating heat around the edge of the blade. I lift my finger off the button and the knife returns to normal. Securing it to my waist I then inspect the firearm. The barrel is short and rectangular with two prongs at the end with a simple grip and trigger. There seems to be a removable power cell, placed in a compartment along the shaft.

I grasp the weapon and then turn back to Quroken to assess his mental state. He Is no worse for wear, still in the cell's corner but slowly inching forward. Using my limited Shahnese I tell him to be quiet before exiting the cell area. Moving through the corridor my eyes adjust to the minimal light as if it was a bright shining day on Korvan. I calm myself as I grip the weapon in both hands, aiming it forward in the standard military stance of the Samsiran National Forces. Steadily aiming, I make my way down the narrow corridor. Sounds echo in the distance, chattering in the Shahnese language. Reaching the end of the corridor I quickly move to the side. A Wokan pirate moves past the corridor into the kitchen area. Oh yes, I forgot to mention their species is called the Wokan. Rather an aggressive species from the limited information I gathered from Quroken.

I glance around the side and spot three Wokan's seated around a small table. They're playing some sort of game involving square pieces like the game Janta from my home world. I leave those thoughts aside as I quickly move stealthily to the left side kitchen. Peering within, I witness the Wokan with his back turned, occupied by some sort of food processor. I swiftly move behind him, put away my gun and unsheathe the knife. Quickly grappling him from behind I engage the blade's laser function. I then pull back his neck and plunge the blade in with one swift strike. His body jerks with the last slither of life before going limp.

The body slowly slumps to the ground and I found myself captivated by the corpse at my feet. I have a strange impression or a feeling I should have some issue with this. The strange notion crosses my mind as if taking life is meant to be abhorrent or ill-advised. Hmm strange concept, I ignore these notions and turn to the task at hand. Two have been eliminated and that means five remain as far as I counted. Best to eliminate most of them but take a few as prisoners.

I then move to the exit to the man recreation room and peer around the corner. My eyes scan the three Wokan's sitting around the table. Two of them seem to have utility belts with several items, likely engineers. Whilst the third has a rifle next to his feet. I continue to observe listening to the bits and pieces of Shahnese I can hear. Several terms I hear are familiar with a few names being picked out.

Assessing my options, I decide my next move. I withdraw my handgun and stand near the entrance. Speaking out loud in a fake gravelly voice like the Wokan's manner of speech. "Zerg Halinka ako." Translated it means to come here right now in an aggressive manner. My words are directed to the Wokan named Zerg. He replies with a subservient tone and begins moving towards the entrance of the kitchen. The moment Zerg enters I quickly stick the gun at the back of his head and grab his neck from behind. Taking him into a Korvenin shield pose or perhaps it is a Wokan shield now. The surprised Wokan struggles for a time before realising his situation and immediately freezes out of fear.

I guide him to the entrance levelling my weapon forward and using him as a shield. The two remaining Wokan's ascend quickly, with the second engineer moving away and the larger, tougher-looking Wokan reaching for his weapon. I quickly dispatch him with a well-placed shot to his chest. My weapon fires a thin red beam that creates a small hole through his chest. The Wokan falls with a loud thud. The second Wokan with droopy ears raises all four of his hands in a clear act of submission. Fear can be clearly seen on his face. I guess the expression of fear is universal, good to know.

With the enemy dispatched I hear several loud thudding sounds come from the left side corridor. Likely leading to the bridge of the ship. I level my weapon towards the door as two figures exit. With the brain-dead one charging like a mad Qwaereb. Those horned creatures loved charging without thought just like this soon-to-be-dead savage. I squeeze off a well-placed shot and hit the Wokan right between the eyes. Splattering their greenish blood right onto the face of the Wokan behind him. Startled, the Wokan with half a brain moved to the side to avoid my next shot.

My Wokan shield struggles a bit but I quickly knee him in the back to keep him in check before turning to the right. I Fire a shot at the droopy-eared Wokan to keep him in check also. The armed Wokan down the corridor begins screaming in Shahnese. Something along the lines of, he is going to rip me apart and my "Jeffa" will burn in the bowls of "Dantoan", I think those terms referred to the Wokan's version of spiritual damnation after death. Curious, I may question the Wokan's about such superstitions later.

Regardless of his spirit's divine retribution, I think I will send the Wokan to his "Dantoan" first. Some time goes by and the Wokan continues to curse in Shahnese and my patience seems to not bear fruit. Neither of us leaves the confines of our secure positions. Thinking on the matter I whisper in the ear of my captured Wokan, in what limited Shahnese I know and hope he understands. I turn to the side and grunt in false pain before my Wokan shield yells in Shahnese to his compatriot down the corridor. A few moments later and the Wokan peeks his head out. I fire a shot and decorate his forehead with a small blood-covered hole following that a loud thud could be heard.

I witness his deceased corpse lying on the ground and narrow my eyes and focus my ears. No further sounds can be heard except for the whimpers of the two Wokan engineers. The count should be correct, the crew is a meagre five on this vessel. I turn to the droopy-eared Wokan still holding his hands up and ask for his name in a heavy-accented Shahnese. He replies with something along the lines of "My name is Kuma, please don't kill me!" At least I think that is what he said. I reassure the frightened Wokan and force the two down to the brig at gunpoint.