When I next wake, I’m tied to a chair, rocking my body reveals that it is bolted to the ground. Gravity seems to exist here, though without a window it’s hard to tell if it’s coming from the ship or if we’re currently on a planet or something. My helmet is removed, but the rest of my armour isn’t, which means that the cable may as well not exist with how easy it’ll be to remove. Not that now is the time for that. I look around, carefully scanning the room. Some kind of storage area, but… why is there a chair here, in the centre?

  A camera perches on a nearby wall, its lens trained on my person, I stare at it for a moment, but eventually look away. The room is filled with crates and similar storage containers, some of them seem high tech, pale creamy white metal stained with age accompanied by soft green lights that flash intermittently. Others are just normal metal containers, scratched and stained with various unidentifiable substances. There’s no visible attachment to the walls or floor, but for all I know it’s a magnetic locking system. I try to shift to a more comfortable position, writhing uncomfortably as pins and needles shoot up my arm. Page? I ask.

  [All body systems nominal, that was just a lack of blood due to how you were seated.] It notes. Not really what I was wondering about. [On the positive, they have not done much to you at all. All they’ve done is tie you up and removed your weapons.] I thought those were all folded into the armour, how’d they remove them? [By cutting the armour, at least at the weak points, you will also notice some of your pockets have been pried open. From the sound of it, they were using specialized equipment. This is likely a team of salvagers. Sadly, they do not speak a language known to us.] How surprising… I note sarcastically. They mentally shrug. [Worth noting all the same.]

  Someone walks in through the door, protective gear covers their person, the type you’d see in a machining shop, not combat gear. We stare at each other for a while, and I cock my head, shifting slightly in my seat as I feel some more numbness creeping up my limbs. I sigh, slumping back into the chair. “I feel like an attraction.” I mutter under my breath. “You going to keep staring or can I actually start figuring out your language?” I ask sarcastically. They break into chatter of their own, and I sit up, focusing on them, as they throw up their hands exasperatedly, stalking back into the hallway.

  Aaaaalright… I think to myself. What was that about? Page offers no answer, seemingly as confused as I am. The ground lurches beneath me. Okay, guess we were on some kind of planet, or satellite… something. It’s a gradual, controlled ascent, nothing like what you’d expect from a rocket launch, felt more like a plane taking off than anything else. I rock in the chair once or twice more. Well… guess I’ll settle in for a bit then…

  Hours pass, and I slowly run out of things to do and count, staring at the blinking lights ahead of me and making a game of pattern matching. The weightlessness is getting to me and I’m starting to lose feeling in my toes, in between bouts of boredom I absently weaken the cables holding me, enough that I could just snap them, but not enough for it to be noticeable by the cameras. The doors slide open as I fidget, two people enter, one of them is about the size of my chest and seems to hover in the air, moving without an obvious means of propulsion. The other wields some kind of gun, keeping it trained on me, though the way they fidget themselves implies they’re not really used to using it.

  Some kind of paste is carried over to me, and one of them makes a show of taking a bite of it, before pushing some of it towards my face. I sigh, shifting a little in my bonds. “Food?” I ask, trying to pry at least some conversation from my captors. They stare at me, entirely unsure of how to respond, and I shrug, taking a small bite of the paste and chewing it. I grimace, fighting the urge to simply spit it out in a coughing fit. Oh god that tastes horrible. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. Page? Is this something I can actually eat?

  [I will tell you in about five minutes or so.] Page replies. [There are many chemicals you cannot digest, but it looks like it could be nutritionally sound with some… effort. Some of it is trying to kill you though, and I cannot be sure if that is it’s intended purpose.] Seems like a lot of effort to poison me when they could just put a bullet in my head and call it a day. I think, looking at the gun toting alien with some reservation. [True, I will have to modify your digestive tract, I suppose you should refrain from eating until I have completed this.]

  I sigh, shaking my head at them, and meaningfully struggle against my bonds. They say nothing, looking at one another for a moment before simply leaving. I roll my eyes. My god can I just get a chance to stretch already? They outnumber me at least six to one.

  [You and I both realize that they do not have the advantage on you.] Page observes. [None of them are fighters, and with the last jump… you can feel it too can you not?]

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Yeah… I guess I can, the rifts feel more… real. Though I don’t think it’ll see combat use for a while, disorienting. I grimace. I pause. I don’t suppose you managed to figure out anything about the ship’s layout? I ask. [… No. I do not know where the toilet is.] I sigh. Great, I was afraid of that. I fidget a little, trying to think of something else. Have you ever done that? Tried to distract yourself from your bodily functions just by… not thinking about it? Never works…

  I’m just about to call for someone when a thump sounds against the walls of the cargo bay. You can’t be serious. The lights flicker, before shorting out, and I am acutely aware of an odd buzzing that reverberates in my mouth. [… That was an EMP surge, probably highly localized. We might be adrift.] Pirates? Rivals? Bloody Customs maybe? I grimace, exasperated. It’s one thing after another.

  Something scrapes against the hull of the ship above me, and the ship suddenly lurches backward. My head snaps back, and the chair I’m tied to comes free, sending me hurtling towards the cargo bay doors. Crap. I quickly snap the cables holding me to it, scrambling to push off the chair. The angle that I push it causes me to bounce against the walls, as the chair does the same against the doors in front of me. I blindly stretch out a hand as I slam into another of the walls, binding the gauntlet to it and swinging myself painfully against a support beam.

  I hook my foot into one of the supporting structures, keeping myself from drifting off again. The chair bounces another once or twice, finally stopped by my other hand as it drifts past me. Thank the gods the cargo didn’t come loose. I close my eyes, sensing for my helmet as I detach a bit of my armour, folding it into a short blade. I quickly tear open the container it’s in to retrieve my things. The knives are still missing, hopefully they didn’t throw them away. I push off, the doors to the cargo bay are sealed, without power there might be nothing I can do to open it. As I ponder this I hear the faint crack of a gun. Damn it. I focus, pushing myself to the side as I Sense for a good point to Shift.

  I find one quickly enough, it takes me into the corridor beyond. I reach a hand through, the corridor seems clear enough, but I prepare myself just in case. Another distant crack sounds out as I hurl myself through. The walls rush up to meet me, and I reach out a hand and foot to slow myself down. Someone is standing just down the hallway, turning towards me, and I kick off the walls, slamming into its body with my blade. Hope that was one of the pirates. I think to myself.

  The way they were armoured would suggest it anyway… This was almost certainly combat-worthy, if in disrepair, instead of whatever it was my jailers were wearing. We slam into a beam, and I kick off it, sending us across a hall, I note two other targets. I draw the blade out of its chest, jamming it into what I think was their throat. The blade hooks in, and a quick pull rips it straight out. The others overcome their shock, turning to me and raising their weapons. I manoeuvre the body I’m holding to block the shots, before kicking off the body, sending it careening at one of my new assailants.

  Unused to being in zero gravity I bounce off the walls like a pinball, thankfully none of my opponents are good shots, bullets ping to my sides, sometimes bouncing off my armour and sending me spinning in another direction. I grab onto a wall and pull myself closer, swinging myself so I can kick off at one of their blindsides. I miss just by a bit, grabbing onto their arms instead of their body. The creature doesn’t hesitate, reaching to grab a sidearm. My blade is faster, sinking into its shoulder before it can take aim, a spasm down its arm discharging the bullet into empty air. I make a grab for it myself, wresting it out of their limp hand and managing to put a bullet into the large eyeball located in their chest.

  It screams, but I’m quickly distracted as something slams into my leg. It sends me into a spin, and I pull off a few hasty shots in the direction of the last assailant, steadying myself as I near one of the walls. It doesn’t look like I landed a shot, and the magazine clicks on empty as I try again. I snarl, ripping another piece of my armour off, throwing it just as the creature takes aim at my chest. They slam once… twice… into my chest, but the thrown blade sinks itself into their face, and it distracts the third shot into the wall beside me. I kick off the wall, slamming into them before they can recover, and the gun becomes just another bludgeon.

  [Only bruises] Page notes. [Well done.]

  I pull my blades toward me, ripping them out of the corpses I attached them to. More gunfire is being traded further forward. Fore? I idly wonder, taking one of their guns. It would probably be classed as a rifle, though its design was clearly not meant for me. Point and shoot, thank the gods this is plenty universal. I make my way to the front of the ship. The assailants barely even notice me as I come up behind them, though the reactions of the crew nearly give me away. I brace myself against a support beam, shifting to get a good bead. I take a breath and squeeze the trigger.

  A staccato burst of bullets slam into the first target, and it buckles almost instantly, tumbling forward into empty space. The others start to turn, and I fire a second burst. The next one tries to dodge, the bullets slamming into one of their limbs before cracking into one of the bullet ridden electronics behind them. It crackles and splutters, and I whisper a quiet apology. The pirates scramble, the four of them hastily trying to find cover as a fusillade of bullets is fired from the crew.

  I guess the bathroom can wait?