Introduction
Below, a world on fire.
From up here in orbit on the bridge of his sleek, powerful frigate it was easy to forget there was a war going on down there, even amidst the chaos of a bridge crew during combat. Servitors scuttled everywhere, in the awkward gait of those barely-human machine constructs, spewing constant bursts of binary chatter about firing co-ordinates, weapon temperatures, trajectory vectors or one of a thousand other facts, figures and data-chatter required to conduct war in the void. Struggling to be heard over the general din, reports and commands of bridge officers were barked out across the cavernous space to their captain who stood serenely, impossibly calm on a raised dais at the very front of the bridge. A giant holo-screen was projected onto the huge wall directly in front of the dais, displaying endless streams of data and information only a master of void warfare could decipher, all alongside a spectacular view of the carnage from the shattered space station that hung desperately in orbit, gutted open like a fish and spilling its blazing entrails over the planet it once orbited.
A satisfied smile sat upon Captain Aleksander Daw's noble, handsome face as he gazed at his work. "Two for the price of one," he laughed. In one swift, brutal stroke he had destroyed a gargantuan Imperial space station as well as one of the most gargantuan pains in his ass – Reid Karak, raider-extraordinaire and, until an hour ago, one of his closest allies over the last decade. The space station, designation Helius 6, he was happy to reduce to rubble simply for sake of it, as well as the recovery of what precious loot his salvage teams could scavenge from the wreckage, but Reid bloody Karak: that was revenge ten years in the making. He had smiled, kissed arse, flattered, aided, even saved the wretch's life, all for this one final moment when he had truly gained Karak's trust and could exact vengeance in a manner reflecting the pirate-lord's cunning and ingenuity. Ten long, patient years he endured waiting for the perfect moment to ensure Karak's annihilation, in a manner that made it impossible to hold Daw directly responsible but that would also be cautiously whispered of as undeniably Daw's making, thus proving that to cross the Golden Raider just once was to leave you looking over your shoulder the rest of your life. Of course, some might say waiting ten years to destroy someone for beating you at a hand of cards was lunacy, but as long as they did not utter such notions anywhere they could be heard – for the pirate lord maintained an army of spies not just among his own crew but throughout the entire sector – then they could keep their head attached to their shoulders for another day.
"Jelko, perform an augur-sweep of the Doubtless wreckage and have the remainder of the scrap-heap not already engaged scoop up what flotsam you find," Daw ordered, his voice – mechanically-augmented to be deeper and richer than humanly possible – cutting over the din of bridge activity flawlessly. "I want to be gone before those Navy dogs even get a sniff."
The faces of his crew lit up, and those not slaved to their monitors or menial tasks stared up at the regal figure standing atop his podium, barely contained glee writ upon their idolatrous faces.
"Does this mean…" Adrastos, his dishevelled, ugly, scarred but trustworthy advisor asked with a smile, putting voice to the thought on everyone's minds as he smirked sidelong at his captain and old friend.
Daw looked around at his crew, bridge officers, pets and all, crowded round the upper gantries, terrace lounges and technical stations. He allowed a lucky few to meet his eye for just a second.
He raised his arms. "That's right, you scum-suckers, we're going to have ourselves a bloodletting!"
Around, the crew roared.
