So Much for Routine

[Cptn Corizon 0]

The blood from his lip trickled into his mouth, and he tasted the iron-based substance on his tongue. It was certainly not the first time he’d ever tasted blood, far from it. Nor was it the first time he’d tasted his own blood. Something about it today was especially bitter though, and he grimaced visibly.

 

He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and sat down in the command chair, refusing to look directly at Victria. Until now, he’d been able to forget that she was actually the enemy, or at least that her people were the enemy. Yes, they were forced to do the Scorpiad bidding—well at least that was their story.

 

Slaves, that’s what they were. But even slaves had a choice. They could stand up and say no more, rebel against their oppressors, and even if every one of them died in the process, dying for freedom was more like living than being a live slave. It was an excuse. They were taking the easy way out, didn’t they see that?

 

Claws subtly dug into the arms of the command chair as Corizon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing his thoughts back onto the situation at hand. A few hundred meters away from his position, a freighter laid a drift. It had been savagely attacked by a group of hunters. None of that was in dispute. The real question was why?

 

What made that freighter a target for the famed hunters of the night? And why would they leave anyone alive? That was the million bar of latnium question. Taking another deep breath, he mentally said a prayer to the One that when Segami and Pilot reached the survivor that there would be answers to those questions.

 

So much for a routine patrol mission.