2. Gromnyr

CHAPTER 2

GROMNYR

A ll around me my hungry orcs gorge themselves on the spoils of conquest. The Federation cruiser sent to take out my fleet was nothing but an annoyance to me. Now that fancy, expensive ship is nothing but a mangled mess of steel floating through space, its crew dead, and all the food and drink it was carrying is being stuffed into hungry orc bellies.

"My king?"

"Yes?"

Grull, my second-in-command, has come to find me.

"We have spotted a nearby vessel."

"Federation? An escape pod?" I ask. "If so, blast it out of the sky."

"No, it's a freighter, actually."

"A freighter? Out here?"

No freighter-pilot is dumb enough to cross through the Badlands. Freighters are large, unwieldy, slow.

They are prey .

Freighters stick to the well-guarded shipping lanes, and even then they are vulnerable to orc raids. Showing up in my backyard is simply asking for trouble.

Whoever is in charge of that vessel is either very dumb, or very desperate.

"Yes, my king. A freighter, C-class. Transporting corn. Four humans on-board. Three males. One female."

"A C-class freighter, all alone out in the wild? Smells like a trap. Are you certain about this, Grull?"

"Yes, Gromnyr. There's no one else. They're all alone."

"Hm. Then let's pay them a visit."