A barely functioning fighter explodes as a homing missle slams into it. The torpedo had buried itself inside of the thin armor of the craft, releasing its payload near the already unstable fusion reactor. The resulting detonation peppers the pursing ship in debris and shrapnel.

After maneuvering through the debris field, a red warning light flashes inside of the cockpit of a worn interceptor. Its hull was pockmarked with scorch marks and shattered plating. Crudely painted on the side of the ship in white paint was the image of an eagle's talons.

[Warning: hull integrity at 24%. Critical damage detected.]

A man quickly swipes his hand across the holographic display, dispelling the blinking warning message. His hands grip the controls tightly, as streaks of laser fire slam into the already comprised hull.

"C'mon, c'mon." The man mutters frantically as he barrel rolls to avoid an incoming torpedo. The projectile nearly misses the wings of the ship as it continues off into the void of space.

The man stares at an adjacent screen to his left that displays the energy output to various systems of the craft. After a few seconds of deliberation, he reaches over and adjusts the output of his thrusters. By doing this, he diverts power from the ion thrusters, sacrificing much needed maneuverability in the process, and reroutes it to the overheating cannons.

The interceptor suddenly slows down, which throws off the tracking of the pursuing fighter on its tail. Subsequently, the fighter rockets by the ship, unable to slow down and match the sudden decrease in speed. The man grins devilishly as he positions himself behind the enemy ship.

[Forward facing cannon {Left} now at 51% cooldown. Ready for fire.]

The man laughs inside of the cockpit as he squeezes the dual triggers that control the gun. "I got you now, asshole."

The flak cannon that is positioned on the front left of the interceptor lets loose a destructive volley of fire. At such a close range, the gun tears through the enemy fighter and disables the ship in only a few quick bursts. Peppered in holes and torn apart, the fighter loses all power and drifts listlessly through space. Though the ship was relatively intact, the pilot was dead.

[All targets eliminated. No threats on radar.]

The pilot slumps back into the chair and sighs deeply. Even though he had won the battle and emerged victorious, it was a very close call. His own craft was battered to hell and barely functioning. He glances to his right and eyes the status of his ship.

*

{Designation: Talon}

{Ship Class: Interceptor}

{Reactor energy: 31%}

{Shields: 0%}

{Hull integrity: 9% - Seek immediate repairs}

{All weapons overheated - Please commence emergency cooling}

{Warning: Multiple systems nearing critical failure: Ion Thrusters, Life-Support, Anti-Gravity Generator, Recycler... [Do you wish to see more?]}

*

The man stares blankly at the display before he turns away. "Fuck..." he mutters.

He reaches forward and reenables the silent com systems. Whenever he goes into battle, he has a habit of turning it off because he doesn't want any unwelcome distractions. The coms power on, blinking to life and displaying various notifications. The man ignores all of them and navigates to the directory to establish a connection with a certain person.

"Christina, I successfully eliminated the pirates on the outskirts of the system. Collecting the debris and callsigns now." The man says as he positions his ship near the debris field, collecting the wreckage and reinforced cargo containers with a tractor beam.

"Good work, Zephyr." The person he contacted replies, Christina. "There will be an open landing bay waiting for you, please dock there. Sending you the information now."

His console lets out a ding and displays the bay number and credentials she had sent. Once he verifies the sent info, he nods in satisfaction.

"Alright, see you in a bit." He says before cutting the transmission.

The man, Zephyr, continues to work in silence as he scours the battlefield for any valuable loot and scrap.

-

Zephyr disengages the hyperdrive as he approaches the massive space station. The floating megastructure was manufactured in the shape of a ring which spun constantly. It did this to simulate gravity, as this was much cheaper than having antigravity generators running 24/7.

Scattered around the ring are multiple shipyards and docking bays. Each of these were owned and operated by different corporations and organizations. Zephyr was currently en route to one such bay.

As he nears the ring, he was contacted by the Imperial Navy who was stationed in the area to keep the peace. They handled the comings and goings of the various ships and performed random audits and searches.

"Approaching craft, please hold position." The voice on the comms suddenly says in a professional voice. "Please transmit your credentials and identification."

"Sending now." Zephyr replies as he quickly sends the information to the soldier.

After verifying all the information, Zephyr was directed towards a bay and finally given permission to land. It was a long-winded process, but it kept everyone safe.

His battle-worn interceptor barely makes it into the hangar before the reactor finally gives out and the ship plummets to the floor of the bay. As he is strapped inside of the pilot's seat, he is spared from most of the impact.

"Damn... I'm surprised it actually made it this far." He mumbles to himself as he exits the ship and stretches.

"Look at this mess." A voice suddenly rings out from the other side of the hangar.

A woman stands inside of a doorway with her arms crossed. Her violet hair and matching eyes are striking. Her build is quite excellent and catches the eyes of every person who sees her. She is wearing a simple white blouse and black pants. Though the clothes are plain, she is able to pull them off exceedingly well.

"Christina." Zephyr says, his eyes lingering on the woman for just a moment. "Can't I get a bit of sympathy? Look at my baby." He says whilst gesturing to the ruined ship.

The woman, Christina, rolls her eyes before she stalks over to him. The clacking of her heels is the only sound in the empty room. Before he knows it, she is standing before him.

"I informed you about the difficulty of the job. It is no fault but your own that you didn't heed the warnings." She finally replies, albeit somewhat coldly.

Zephyr stares into her purple eyes before he turns away and sighs. He knows that that she is correct, but that was the only job he could access that paid a decent reward. He does not argue this fact though, because he knows she is aware of it as well.

"Anyway." He says, turning back towards her. "I collected all the callsigns from the defeated pirates. Let's move this to the Guild to discuss my pay."

Christina chuckles as she leads him out of the room. "Always greedy about your credits I see, I'm glad you never change."