"Progress report, Captain."

"Approaching the King's Freeway, Ambassador."

The path was obvious - [i]much[/i] too obvious. Any harebrained fool would know that this famed route in particular was constantly beset by pirates. And in the course of the conflict between the Association of Free Human Worlds and the Dracian Hegemony, aforementioned opportunistic pirates had seized the day - or night; it was quite difficult to achieve chronological accuracy in the bowels of space - and plundered dozens of merchant vessels. Needless to say, the ASV [i]Fortuna[/i], with its gleaming hull and Association stamp, was practically an open target, gliding phantom-like through the empty, star-strewn depths. The name wasn't much of an assistance either - it resembled more of a subtitle, graciously informing the looting scoundrels that this ship in particular was a veritable trove of riches.

Dracian leaders had agreed to peace talks, but - in typical Dracian manner - had demanded an Association representative be sent physically to participate. And there it was - Ambassador Ajan Wolfe's biggest assignment yet. And he wouldn't have pirates, of all things, interfere in what could possibly be his greatest crowning achievement. He'd worked for this - endured the whims of undeserving superiors and mentally-stunted politicians, to become the rising star in the Association Diplomatic Service. Of course, he wanted no better than to have all members of Dracian leadership publicly perforated, but diplomacy was a game of words and unsuited to those of wrathful construction. That, and any trained Dracian soldier would throttle him in a space of ten seconds. Damned aliens. 

"Don't worry, Ambassador, you'll be safe," said Captain Renfred. 

"Empty words until proven, Captain," snapped Ajan coolly, a dark brow raised questioningly as he rested a hand upon the plasma pistol at his belt. At the very least, he was trained in the handling of minor firearms. The lean-built ambassador kept his spine straight, gazing down the length of his nose at the scuttling crewmen, his eyes dark and sharp like a hawk's. His hair, black as pitch, was short and swept back over a high, pale forehead, bloodless mouth twisted in a display of impatience even as the bridge lights shadowed prominent cheekbones. Though his posture seemed to exude confidence, the man within was getting rather antsy. Truth be told, being raised in the Association equivalent of nobility meant he was a spoiled child who was gifted everything he'd ever wanted. Having had no brothers and sisters, he'd been endlessly coddled, praised and surrounded by groveling sycophants until, perhaps, he'd developed a greater sense of self-worth than was true. 

So far, nothing. He would've possibly just breathed a sigh of relief when alarms exploded all over the deck.

"What's going on?!" Ajan demanded, gripping the rail in front of him until his knuckles blanched with the effort. 

"W-We're under attack, sir!"

"By whom? Pirates?!" The diplomat almost shrieked, sending his voice octaves higher than normal. The outraged declaration dwindled to an unflattering squeak as he strode hurriedly to the wide windows, watching as their escort ships were disabled and fired upon. "Damn it! General Roshan promised me his best men!" Despite the initial shock, Ajan knew they were just about done for. Trapped in the middle of a great void, the [i]Fortuna[/i] was a sitting duck. And from Renfred's guilty silence, Ajan knew that it was, in fact, the pirates that he'd feared. General Roshan had never much liked the Diplomatic Service, and now his biases had handicapped the convoy. 

"We've taken a direct hit. Shields are down. Engines have failed to respond."

"Well, reroute all auxiliary power to the shield generators!" 

"With all due respect, Ambassador -"

"You [i]know[/i] the phrase 'with all due respect' essentially means 'kiss my ass'! You think I don't know what I'm doing, Renfred?" Ajan marched to the control panel, prepared to exercise what little he knew of starship maneuvering, when the lights around them begun to flicker, ceiling panels spitting electrical sparks. Adrenaline pulsing through his veins, the ambassador fought to repress his fear as he glimpsed what he thought were the [i]Fortuna[/i]'s aggressors. "Get everyone to the escape pods! Quickly, before they board!" Renfred twitched visibly, but seemed to regain his senses a second later, bellowing that the crew members should begin evacuation procedures immediately.