[justify][color=9b59b6]“Captain?” First Mate And-R-0[/color] spoke up, lenses focused on the spectrometers they were using to passively scan the environment. [color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color] was easy to spot from a crowd, especially with these dilapidated robot prates. He was an ‘entertainment model’, a machine built to act as a diplomat, courtesan, and worse. A slender frame that was covered in a smooth chassis that made him both wispish and androgynous. How he had managed to find himself among this crew of ne'er do wells was anybody’s guess.

[color=f1c40f]“Aye?” Metallo[/color] turned to his first mate, cocking his head in curiosity.

[color=9b59b6]“The amount of signals on the spectrometer are significantly lower than anticipated, captain.” And-R-0[/color] made a gesture towards the pilot, [color=3498db]Mechanical Turk[/color], who silently nodded in agreement.

[color=f1c40f]“Aye, it’s quiet.” Metallo[/color] said.

[color=9b59b6]“Too quiet, captain.” And-R-0[/color] replied.

This changed, of course. 

[h3]Warp signature detected-[/h3]

The epileptic nightmare of a mother-ship could not have made itself [i]more[/i] known if it had tried, all sensors flaring to life as their ship rocked from the gravitational backlash of such a heavy jump. The cabin shook to life, the ship beginning to rapidly spin at speeds that would knock out most organics. It was fortunate that there were no organics aboard as the ship made rapid micro-adjustments to stabilise its trajectory — albeit there were definitely those who were worst for wear.

The sound of oil splattering disrupted the silence, joined with the clattering of nuts and bolts. [color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color] was clutching his stomach, free hand wiping his mouth of the oil that spilled from his face plate. The others regarded him with something between pity and endless amusement.

[color=f1c40f]“Status report,” Metallo[/color] commanded.

[color=3498db]“Orichalca Mothership, captain. We are no worse for wear.” Mechanical Turk[/color] spoke, his six hands still performing to stabilise the ship.

[color=f1c40f]“I can see that,” Metallo[/color] replied. A rustic hand scratched a chin of steel wool, the captain turning to the crew. [color=f1c40f]“[/color][color=c0392b]Biggs[/color][color=f1c40f]. Do you think you could pop out and knock out the propulsion with your rail-cannon?”[/color]

While [color=f1c40f]Metallo[/color] was the captain and brains of the operation, [color=c0392b]Biggs[/color] was the brawn. A ‘retired’ war droid with four legs and angled ablative armour, he was built to carry weaponry that could knock a ship out of orbit. Even his default weapon for close combat was the repurposed point-defence of a [i]Dominator[/i] class dreadnought. The single red lens that stood above his squat and thick body narrowed.

[color=#c0392b][b]"NEGATIVE. ASTERIAN SHIPS ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR EXTENSIVE SHIELDING."[/b][/color] [color=c0392b]Biggs[/color]’s voice always boomed.

[color=9b59b6]“Might I suggest we-WHY WAS I PROGRAMMED TO BE ABLE TO VOMIT?!” And-R-0[/color] added to the pile of oil he had made before.

[color=f1c40f]“Tough luck, lad. Have we got anything that could perform a Slow Blade? Missiles? Kinetics?”[/color]

[color=3498db]“We stripped those out to reduce the energy signature,” Mechanical Turk[/color] replied as a matter of fact. He would know, he was the one that did it. That’s how they managed to get through in the first place!

[color=f1c40f]“Hmmm. That’s a tough nut to crack, and that might jeopardise us going into the city.”[/color]

[color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color] finally managed to stop himself from vomiting. [color=9b59b6]“Captain.”[/color]

[color=f1c40f]“Aye?”[/color]

[color=9b59b6]“Why not just grab it after it has landed?”[/color]

[color=3498db]“I think our current crew numbers are insufficient for such a task.”[/color]

[color=9b59b6]“Asteria has a history with enslaving men.”[/color]

[color=f1c40f]“Emancipate a makeshift crew, aye. Hmmm. What are we pirates but those who mutiny’d against tyranny?”[/color]

[color=c0392b][b]“WE ARE GLORIFIED ROBBERS.”[/b][/color]

[color=f1c40f]“Oh shuddup. [/color][color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color][color=f1c40f], can ye recall where the prison is based?”[/color]

The androgynous robot brought up his PDA, tapping in numbers with slender fingers. [color=9b59b6]“It has been a long time, captain. But it should be… There.”[/color]

[color=3498db]“Confirmed,” Mechanical Turk[/color] spoke. [color=3498db]“I have visual. Defences are going to be tough.”[/color]

[color=f1c40f]“Oh, that’s easy.” Metallo[/color] reached to grab his plasma cutlass, flicking it on and watching the weapon’s red glow. [color=f1c40f]“Grab yer weapons and ready up, me hearties. [/color][color=3498db]MT[/color][color=f1c40f], teach ‘em the Kzinti Lesson.”[/color]

[quote=Larry Niven]"A reaction drive's efficiency as a weapon is in direct proportion to its efficiency as a drive."[/quote]

There are very, very few people who would anticipate pirates to drop in on them at any time. The wardens of the prison would be reasonably to be among the many who did not, given the meters and meters of thick walls and energy fields built to keep the incarcerated in and the invader out. It is a shame that the wardens were the ones who would have benefited from being in the minority, for the alarms blaring to life was the five second head start that could have saved them.

The screaming blast of ignited plasma seared through anything that stood in its way, weakening metal and rock to allow the rapidly descending ship to burst through like an overripe zit. Chunks of ship were torn off with each level it ploughed through, retrograde thrusters burning until the ship finally burst through the dining hall and came to a screeching halt.

[i]Hiss[/i], steam escaped from the red-hot reactor that was cooling down from the burn, hatches flipping from the dilapidated pseudo-rocket. Captain [color=f1c40f]Metallo[/color] and his crew burst free, from [color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color] and his rail-musket and variety of traps, to [color=3498db]Mechanical Turk[/color] and the swarm of mini-drones that followed in his take. [color=c0392b]Biggs[/color] was the last to leave the rocket, carrying his trusty autocannon. [color=#000000]Killbot 5000[/color] was strapped to his back and inactive, but that’s a surprise for later.

[color=f1c40f][b]“Avast! I, Captain Metallo, extend an open invitation to oppressed man and machine alike, to join me crew and plunder the riches stolen from yer rightful lands.”[/b][/color] His speakers boomed as he waved his laser cutlass and laser-pistol in the air, pointing the latter at the wardens... Wardens?

Pause.

[color=f1c40f]“This is a bloody fancy prison,” Metallo[/color] turned his head to look at [color=9b59b6]And-R-0[/color]. [color=f1c40f]“It [i]is[/i] the prison, yer?"[/color] The uncomfortable look upon the faces of the patrons grew into outright terror, but the sort of terror that left people in place and not responding to whatever the hell [i]this[/i] is.

[color=9b59b6]"I don't... Think so. But it has been many a year since—"[/color]

[color=f1c40f]“Oh sod it. Go with MT and find a terminal, we'll find a way to the prison and find a manifesto that way.” Metallo[/color] turned, looking at the low-level guards for the dining hell who had been assigned here because they were too incompotent to go anywhere else.

[color=f1c40f]“And Biggs? Open fire.”[/color][/justify]