Well, I wrote this story for English class. I was supposed to read a nonfiction book and write a story inspired by it. I read a biography of Blackbeard. Feel free to comment on it. Enjoy.
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The Feeorin strode to the front deck of his flagship, the
Dragon's Madness. His jet black skin seemed to almost cast a shadow in the very air around him. His mess of tentacles dangled from the back of his head, almost reaching his thighs. At 175 years old, he'd grown quite big, nearly two and a half meters tall, and almost 160 kilograms. He was relatively young for a Feeorin, but a relic compared to a human. Most of his race could live to see 400, but if he kept living the life he lead, he would only have a few more years. The life of a pirate was a hard one, and he had the scars to prove it.
"Black Tentacles" they called him, the Galactic Republic. Normally, the bureaucrats turned a blind eye to piracy, but this wasn't just a pirate, this was a threat. He wasn't the most prolific pirate, but certainly the most fearsome. Only spoke of in whispers was his moniker, as if saying it too loud would cause him to descend from space and ravage the land.
To the common people, he was Black Tentacles. To the spacefaring population, he was "Him." To his crew, he was Cap'n, but to himself, he was just himself. He gazed off into space for a moment to reflect on this, caught himself, and stood facing his crew.
"We've done it again boys!" cried the captain as his crew whooped and shouted in agreement, holding their new riches over their heads. "The Republic thought it could sneak a convoy through this sector, our sector, but we didn't let them, did we?" The rabble screamed several no's, most just screaming. The energy in the air was so powerful it could almost be seen.
"Well Boys, I think it's about time to think about taking something," said the captain as he began to realize just how much power he had, and how much he could have. Several ships more and the captain would have the makings of a small fleet. He could take a small plane... He could take the whole damn galaxy.
The speech, along with the captain's thoughts of conquest was cut short by the motioning of the pilot for the captain to go to his side. He walked over to the chair and asked the pilot what the problem was.
"Cap'n, we've got ships on our scanners," said the pilot. The pilot was young, but damn good at what he did, just like the Feeorin when he began his pirate career. Black Tentacles responded to the pilot, not a hint of worry in his voice. "More merchants, I thought they would have figured not to come through here by now," said the captain, slightly annoyed that someone hadn't heard of him. A very worried look came over the pilot's face.
"No sir, it's a detachment of Republic ships, and they're heavily armed. I think they know exactly where they're going."
"Insolent bastards; they think that they can be so brash as to fly in to my space," hissed the captain as his voice grew louder. "They mean to make a mockery of me, they mean to make a mockery of you!" he shouted to his crew. "They think they can just send their ships and their commands." His oratory grew more forceful. "That's all they have; commands, but we have something more than just commands, we have spirit, we have fervor, we have everything within our grasp. Will you let them keep you from what's yours? Or will you reach out and take it!"
The crew cried out in a tumult of voices, adrenaline pumping, ready to take on the galaxy all at once, ready to kill anything that moved.
"To the guns, boys!" shouted the captain over the crowd. The gathered crew dispersed as the crews of the other ships in the squadron did likewise. The gunners ran to the turbolasers at the sides of the ships, the quadlasers at the front, and two dashed to the missile tubes. The engineers scurried about, readying themselves to make repairs during and after the battle to come. The rest of the crew ran to their quarters, seizing what weapons they could.
"I have a troop transport and five escorts on the viewscreen Sir." said the pilot in a focused tone. Like the rest of the men, the pilot wasn't scared, just anticipatory.
"Shoot 'em down!" roared the captain. The quadlasers opened up, illuminating the blackness of space around them. The beams of light shot toward the Republic ships, making the shields of the troop transport ship ripple and waver. One of the missile tubes of the Dragon's Madness unleashed a concussion round in a spurt of flame. The missile tore its way to the Republic ships, seeming to rend the space around it. A laser burst punched through the shields of one of the Republic escort fighters and glanced the wingtip. The pilot of the escort heaved a premature sigh of relief as the missile turned he and his ship into scorched slag.
The pilot glanced at the viewscreen. "Four escorts left, transport shields are at 83 percent."
A turbolaser started firing on another of the escorts, the first blast eating away the shields, the second eating away the fuselage of the ship and half its pilot. All three remaining escorts unleashed a volley of torpedoes at the Dragon's Madness. The shields rippled and the frame of the ship buckled, but it held together.
"Sir, our shields are down to 32 percent." Exclaimed the pilot hurriedly.
"Concentrate all fire on the escorts!" Shouted the captain into the comlink, his words reverberating throughout the ship.
The Dragon's crew responded instantly, sudden bursts of light and missiles blasting toward the escorts. After a few more volleys, the escorts were destroyed, and all guns were turning on the troop transport, which was at point blank range. The crew of the transport however, had different ideas. Just as the Dragon was about to unleash one last deadly salvo, a blue shock flashed out of a cannon on top of the transport. The Dragon's Madness stopped dead. The ship's engines and weapons had been momentarily fried, but a moment was all the transport needed, as it projected a boarding tube into the side of the Dragon's Madness. Republic marines shuffled through the tunnel ready to face whatever lay inside the ship.
The crewmembers that weren't busy with weapons or repairs stood waiting for the tunnel to open. It opened and several grenades fell into the midst of the pirates detonating simultaneously and turning upwards of thirty men into scorched and maimed bodies and filling the nostrils of those not armored with the scent of burnt flesh. The rest of the pirates dived for cover, giving the marines just enough time to throw a few more grenades. After the detonation which took several more lives, the pirates were shaken enough that the marine stormed out of the tunnel, blasting wildly at whatever they saw. The pirates fought back, most unsheathing vibroblades, some swords, others axes. As the first pirate rushed forward, he was to an unrecognizable mess by the blasters of the marines. The pirates rushed forward, some being felled by the bolts of coherent light from the blasters of the marines, most rushing forward, undaunted. The smell of blood filled the air as a vibroblade punctured the armored shell of a marine. The fight continued like this for some minutes until the pirate ranks got too thin, so the pirates dropped a number of grenades and ran to the bridge of the ship.
Black Tentacles rushed forward to meet his now-smaller crew. He wasn't in any mood for a speech so he chanted only one line. "A short and merry life, Boys!"
The crew yelled again, their morale restored by their captain's words. He drew a curved vibrosword from its sheath at his hip and ran toward the marines as his sanguine crew ran right behind him. With one mighty swing of his sword, the captain cleft a marine in twain as he spun around and swept another's head from his shoulders. His crew did likewise, shrugging off blaster bolts and hammering into the marines with everything they had. The captain's previous speech came to the minds of the crew, specifically about their having spirit where the enemies just had orders. The spirit kept them going when they should have been dead, kept them safe in the blackness of space, and maybe it would see them through this too. The captain then sighted the man he took to be the commander of the marines, and the commander saw him. The two charged towards each other as the commander drew his sword, bringing it up to meet the captain's. The two slashed back and forth, the commander gaining the upper hand as he slashed the captain across the gut, blood trickling out on to the floor. The commander put up his sword to block the captain's, but the slash knocked the commander across the room.
The second in command of the marines stepped in for the commander as a blaster took a chunk from the captain's midsection. The shot knocked him off guard and the marine swept forward, making a deep cut from the captain's shoulder to hip.
I can't lose, thought the captain, I've killed half of these bastards myself, they can't stop me now. I have it all within my grasp and they're trying to take it. I have it all within my grasp.
And that was the last thought that crossed the captain's mind as the marine removed the captain's head with one last deft swing.
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Private First Class D'har Leth
-=Wraith Squad=-
TRP/PFC D'har/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/VEA/Nar Shaddaa
{THE POPE} {EmoSlayer}
