In the bustling spaceport not too far from the planet's entrance, Yuka, with her hands casually tucked in her pockets, followed the map's directions, striding swiftly.
She had already opened her mental domain, establishing a psychic link with her butler, allowing for seamless communication in her mind. Of course, this only happened when she allowed it. If she ever found it annoying, she could simply block the butler out.
"Turn right in two hundred meters," the butler announced, his voice echoing in her mind while displaying the map. He then asked Yuka, "Are we just going to leave the robber behind like this?"
"What else? Do you expect me to kill him?" Yuka playfully retorted in her mind. "That wouldn't exactly fit the 'ladylike demeanor' you're always nagging about, would it?"
Besides, in the interstellar realm of the Alliance, murder was a serious crime. Getting caught meant losing citizenship, having your ID card revoked, and being thrown into an Alliance prison.
The inhabitants of planet K32 lived on the edge of the law, engaging in robbery, theft, and fraud, but they never murdered. Space pirates, on the other hand, were the real deal, notorious killers. Unwilling to face prison, they'd flee the Alliance system before the Alliance Army could catch them. They had their own gangs and leaders, living by raiding spaceships and occupying planets outside the Alliance system.
Yet, Yuka wasn't worried about her safety on this trip. The spacecraft connecting with Capital Octoxis all bore special insignia; pirates generally didn't dare attack them, fearing the occasional escort by the Alliance Army.
The public space spacecraft was enormous, its deep blue exterior symbolizing the Alliance. With its three doors wide open, a lengthy queue had formed outside.
The spacecraft conductor was shouting, "Hurry up! The spacecraft leaves in ten minutes!"
The crowd stirred, and some burly men brazenly cut in line, causing a commotion as others desperately pushed forward.
Standing at the end of the line, Yuka heard her butler's anxious voice, "Master, we should move forward, or we'll miss it."
Yuka replied calmly, "What's the rush? Let them scramble first."
Nearby, a tall, thin man noticed Yuka's lack of movement. Mistaking her for someone without a ticket, he sneakily approached and whispered, "Need a ticket? 150,000 for a coach, non-negotiable."
Yuka simply said, "No, thanks."
The man attempted to continue his pitch, but Yuka interjected, "Aren't tickets limited to one per person? Where did you get yours?"
"Concerned about its authenticity?" the man replied with a secretive smile. "Don't worry, we've got plenty of people's ID cards. We use them to buy tickets, so there's no issue."
The man pointed towards the conductor at the spacecraft gate. "You don't need to worry about the ticket info not matching yours. The conductors here know our system. As long as the ticket is real, no matter who you are, you can board the ship."
"So, what do you say? Want one?" he asked.
"Thanks for clearing that up," Yuka replied with a shake of her head, "but I already have a ticket. Goodbye."
As the crowd in front had already squeezed onto the spacecraft, the doors began to slowly close.
The man stood there, dumbfounded, as Yuka sprinted forward, a blur of grey whizzing past him.
With the door hovering about a meter above the ground, Yuka didn't show the slightest worry. She effortlessly ran up, jumped, and landed on the door.
Facing the wide-eyed conductor, she gently presented her ticket, saying softly, "Here's my ticket."
The conductor, still in a daze, processed the ticket, and the machine beeped with a "Ticket Verified" message. Yuka tucked the ticket back into her pocket and stepped into the spacecraft.
"My goodness, they don't even have basic security checks," the butler complained in a low voice.
Inside the coach class, seats were tightly packed, with people crammed together. As soon as Yuka entered, a barrage of sounds and smells assaulted her: crying children, adults cursing and boasting, mixed with the scent of food and unidentified odors.
Yuka took a moment, then firmly decided to keep her helmet on.
The spacecraft was full of odd characters, and Yuka's unusual attire didn't attract much attention. Those who did notice quickly looked away, uninterested.
Yuka found her seat according to her ticket โ aisle seat in cabin 3. The young man sitting next to her glanced at her and then quickly lowered his head, nervously fiddling with his opticomputer. His ears were red, and he seemed extremely anxious.
Yuka wondered if he had social anxiety but didn't dwell on it. Closing her eyes, she told the butler, "Wake me when we arrive."
The butler promptly set a wake-up alarm and opened a music player, selecting a soothing classical piece to drown out the noise.
The boy next to her hesitated several times, finally mustering the courage to try and greet Yuka. But as he was about to speak, he choked on his words. Silently, he lowered his head again, rubbing his face in defeat.
The spacecraft started its journey on time.
They had been flying in space for six hours, and the noise on the spacecraft gradually faded as passengers began to fall asleep one by one.
Yuka was awakened by thirst. The meat she had for lunch had been a bit too much, and now her throat felt as if it was on fire, parched and rough.
Yuka quietly stood up and walked to the junction between cabins 3 and 2, where she found the automatic water dispenser. She grabbed a disposable cup and filled it with cool water. Opening a small slit in her helmet, she gulped down the water eagerly.
Just as she was about to refill her cup, the spaceship suddenly jolted violently. Yuka quickly steadied herself against the wall.
The unexpected turbulence woke up the sleeping passengers, and those who hadn't fastened their seatbelts were flung about โ hitting the ceiling before crashing back to the floor. Cries and curses filled the air once again.
A calm voice of a crew member came over the intercom, trying to soothe the passengers, "Please, don't panic. Return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. Our ship has encountered a particle stream; turbulence is normal. We'll soon..."
But before the announcement could be completed, a loud crash interrupted, followed by a harsh, screeching noise of a microphone hitting the floor.
Everyone clutched their ears. A man with tattooed arms stood up, shouting towards the closed cockpit door, "What the hell is going on in there?"
He got his answer sooner than expected.
The microphone hit the ground, and the sounds of screams, gunfire, and the gruesome noise of blades penetrating flesh filled the air, along with rough, mocking laughter.
The cabin fell into a suffocating silence.
Seconds later, an uncontrollable scream erupted, plunging the passengers into utter chaos. Some crouched and sobbed, others hid under seats trembling. The tattooed man, who had first raised his voice, picked up a suitcase and furiously smashed it against the cabin door, trying to escape.
"Quiet!"
The ship went still.
A malicious voice came through the intercom, "Listen up... trash of the ship! We are space pirates, and this ship is now under our control!"
"Now," the man's voice slowly continued, "anyone who knows how to repair a spaceship, come to the cockpit."
He paused, shooting the crawling captain, who was dragging his intestines, in the head, ensuring his death. Then he resumed, "If no one comes forward, we'll kill one person every minute. We just need someone to fix the ship. Fix it, and we leave, and you all live. But if it can't be fixed..."
There was a loud bang as the man fired a shot into the floor, sending another shiver through the passengers.
"Hurry up. We don't have much patience," he concluded.
After the man finished speaking, a new wave of silence enveloped the cabin.
In a trembling voice, someone whispered, "Does anyone know how to fix a spaceship?"
No one answered.
Yuka realized that even if someone on board knew how to fix the spaceship, they were likely too scared to step forward. Staying put might offer a few more minutes of life, but venturing into the cockpit could be a death sentence.
It was the silence that proved most unnerving, and surprisingly, it was the tattooed man who cracked first. His suitcase lay shattered, evidence of his futile attempts to break the unyielding cabin door. Realizing escape was impossible, he erupted in fury, shouting, "Someone go! If you know how to fix it, step up! Do you want us all to die with you?!"
His curse was accompanied by a frantic search for anyone who might have repair skills. He zeroed in on a man in a suit and glasses, grabbing him by the collar and bellowing, "You go! Go fix it!"
The bespectacled man trembled and shook his head, only to receive a brutal punch that shattered his glasses and sent him reeling in agony, clutching his face.
The quiet was shattered, giving way to panic and chaos as people scurried away from the enraged tattooed man. Amidst the screaming and disorder, Yuka quietly returned to her seat, pondering silently:
'If I miss the new student registration, will the school really expel me?'