Somewhere in the Orion arm of the milky way galaxy, Section chief Aamon found himself in deep trouble. Mere moments ago he had stopped for a scheduled refuelling of his ship, the final one before he would have arrived on earth.
However, it was at the space station, that all hell broke loose. Space pirates attacked the station, as a result, Aamon had to fulfil his duty and fight against the pirates before they took over a Xyran space station.
But the forces stationed on Cygnus space station weren't nearly as equipped to take on such an enemy. It was mainly because it was a rare event for a spaceship to cross the Orion arm of the galaxy as it was primarily a Desolant zone, an area that had no advanced intelligent form of life.
As a result, the Orion arm did not serve as a trade route, which was the place these pirates usually attacked in hopes of finding good loot, important hostages or slaves. Since the Cygnus station did not have any of these things, they were never attacked by the pirates, not even to salvage fuel.
Nevertheless, they were attacking now and there could be only one reason for that. They were after him. They could have mistaken Aamon for being a high-ranking official among the Xyrans, since only they would possibly have a reason to visit the space station so far from their main colonies.
"Shit! If only I wasn't being a stingy bastard, I would have never ended up in this mess." Aamon cursed his frugal life.
The fuel prices were skyrocketing, that's why Aamon chose to buy only as much fuel as he would need to arrive at Cygnus. Since spaceships rarely ever crossed that area, the personnel stationed there would have readily provided him with more than enough fuel at a bargainable price.
He wanted to save a few thousand Yenos, only to put his priceless life in danger. Nothing was going correctly in his life ever since he took up the mission to investigate earth. That cursed planet was cursing his luck too.
"Damnit, fill my tank to the brim first!"
In his frustration, Aamon kicked a low ranking worker. Aamon knew no matter what he did to the workers stationed at Cygnus space station as the workers weren't Xyrans.
They belonged to a variety of races that served the Xyrans, just like how the mutants on earth would serve them. At least that would have been the case if those mutants were any good.
However, no matter how fast the workers provided fuel to him, Aamon wouldn't have been able to escape from the space station. After all, the pirates had already surrounded the space station completely.
In other words, as soon as they would see a ship leaving, the pirates would nuke it, destroying and killing anyone that was on board. Still, this wasn't the worst thing. There was something much worse going on inside Aamon's head.
Usually, when a Xyran was under such a threat, they would have called for backup and tried to hold their ground till the backup arrived. However, since he was on a 'personal' trip and not an official one, he couldn't do so.
Even if he did and got saved, there would be an investigation in the matter and Aamon was fairly sure not even Beelzebub would support him. In the end, he would be the one to get punished for wasting crucial militaristic resources all for a 'personal' trip to a long-forgotten planet.
"Oi, ugly-ass, You don't have any weapons at all? No orbital turrets or Hellbringers?" Aamon asked the only Cynthila warrior present there.
Cynthila were weird creatures, who preferred to live a minimalistic life. Their choice of lifestyle went quite along with their bizarre appearance. They had four arms, two legs and a thin tail that they often used in close quarters to penetrate through the enemy's armour.
On top of that, their six expansive eyes gave them an unfair advantage when it came to fighting as their sharp vision could detect the slightest of changes around them in mere moments. They did not have a tinge of hair on their brown course skin.
However, they rarely if ever used the so-called superior weapons, manufactured by the Xyrans. Instead, they depended on fighting using their physical abilities.
This Cynthila warrior wasn't any different, as despite wearing a battle suit made by the Xyrans, the warrior did not carry any weapon on himself.
"We would have if you Xyrans thought this place deserved it." The warrior voice his frustrations in his coarse voice, "But they didn't and how you have brought trouble straight to my doorstep."
"You ugly-ass bastard better hope I do not make it out of here alive, or I'll have you skinned for talking to a superior species like this."
"I don't know about the rest of your species, but even my butt is much more superior to you. Also, I have a fucking name, Joilla!" The warrior had had enough of this man's bullshit, "You have weapons on you, go and fight them yourself."
However, it seemed Aamon didn't need to go anywhere as the following moment the wall next to them, was ripped apart and through it walked a gang of mixed creatures. All of whom were wearing a plain black masks. As soon as Aamon saw the masks he cursed his luck even more.
He was well aware of the identity of these pirates. They called themselves the 'Testament of Illicit Thermoluminescence' or T. I. T. for short. They had a grudge against the Xyrans for as long as Aamon could remember.
"Attention everyone. We do not have any enmity towards you people." The humanoid standing in front of the TITs spoke, "Surrender the Xyran to us and we will leave you peacefully. However, in the event that you don't, we will have to destroy this entire place to make sure that Xyran is taken care of. You have five minutes to decide."
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