When

  Pilgrim and Valkyrie arrive at the location of the distress signal,

  the scene before them is chaotic. Their sensors detect a heated

  battle: two Falchions are circling a petite Raider, which, despite

  its small size, is desperately trying to evade the enemy attacks.

  Nearby, a massive, obviously damaged Leviathan floats, its hull

  riddled with bullet holes and sparks flying from various points.

  Debris drifts through the room around it, the remains of other ships

  that have apparently already been destroyed in the battle.

  "Looks

  like we've stumbled into the middle of a real bloodbath," says

  Pilgrim as he checks the situation on his HUD.

  "No

  kidding," Valkyrie replies. "But who's who?"

  Both

  take a closer look at the enemy ships. The Falchions are moving

  aggressively, their weapons flashing repeatedly as they mercilessly

  fire on the smaller Raiders. The Raiders, nimble and agile, are

  desperately trying to prevent attacks on the Leviathan, but they are

  increasingly finding themselves in trouble.

  "Okay,

  who are the pirates here?" asks Pilgrim, his gaze scanning the

  tactical displays. "The Falchion is classic pirate, but... what

  about the Raider?"

  Valkyrie

  frowns and thinks. "Pirates with a Raider? It's possible, but

  unlikely. Pirates need transport capacity if they really want to make

  a haul. The two Falchions, on the other hand... fit the profile

  perfectly. I'd bet that the Falchions are the attackers here and the

  Raider is part of the escort."

  Pilgrim

  nods slowly as he weighs the logic behind Valkyrie's analysis. "So

  the Raiders are defending the Leviathan. Looks like the pirates are

  after the cargo."

  "Exactly

  my thought," Valkyrie replies. "The Falchion pilots are

  hoping to crack the freighter and then transfer the cargo."

  Pilgrim

  grins slightly, his eyes shining with determination. "Well then,

  it's time to turn the tide."

  Pilgrim

  and Valkyrie watch the dramatic moment when the Raiders, heavily

  damaged, open fire on one of the Falchions in a last, desperate

  action. But it's too late. With a bright flash of light, the fighter

  explodes, and debris scatters across the battlefield. The two can

  only watch helplessly from a distance as the pirates triumphantly

  turn their attention to the battered cargo ship.

  "Damn..."

  Pilgrim whispers into the radio, while Valkyrie grits her teeth and

  grips her controls tighter. "We're too late for them."

  "But

  not for the Leviathan," Valkyrie replies resolutely. "The

  Falchions are now preparing to dismantle the freighter."

  The

  two exchange a few words and agree in concise, professional terms who

  will attack which target. Despite the situation, their communication

  remains precise and clear – a sign of the emerging harmony in their

  partnership. The two heavy Eagles move into attack position and open

  fire almost simultaneously.

  * * *

  The

  pirates, who just moments ago believed victory was theirs, panic.

  They did not anticipate the arrival or the superior firepower of the

  two heavy fighters. Lasers and projectile weapons tear through the

  shields and hulls of the Falchions, which barely have time to react.

  "They

  probably thought this was a done deal," Valkyrie murmurs

  amusedly as she fires a precise shot that hits the engine of one of

  the Falchions and triggers an explosion. "Not with us."

  Pilgrim

  works with her almost instinctively. Their movements

  and

  maneuvers seem perfectly choreographed, as if they had been flying

  together for years. The familiar rhythm makes Pilgrim pause for a

  moment. It reminds him of his flights with Firefox – his partner,

  his companion. The thought of her brings a mixture of pain and

  melancholy for a brief moment, but the pressure of the situation

  leaves no time for deep emotions.

  "Got

  you," Pilgrim announces coldly. His opponent is caught in a

  whirlwind of fire salvos and finally explodes in a bright flash of

  light. Valkyrie follows close behind, her targeted shots piercing the

  hull of the second Falchion until it too breaks apart in a shower of

  sparks.

  "Two

  direct hits," Valkyrie remarks with satisfaction as the wreckage

  of the pirate ships drifts through space.

  With

  the pirates eliminated, Pilgrim and Valkyrie begin to secure their

  surroundings. They split up, with Pilgrim keeping a watchful eye on

  the area while Valkyrie inspects the heavily damaged Leviathan with

  slow, controlled movements.

  She

  gently raises her ship with the control jets, keeping the nose of her

  Eagle pointed at the elongated silhouette of the cargo ship. Her

  maneuver seems almost artistic, as if her ship were circling the

  large freighter like a gymnast on a horizontal bar.

  "Boss,"

  Valkyrie suddenly reports over the radio, her voice sounding tense,

  interested, and amused at the same time. "This ship is

  definitely not a standard Leviathan. You have to see this!"

  Pilgrim

  gently accelerates and brings his Eagle into formation with Valkyrie.

  As he gets closer, he immediately notices the difference: the

  Leviathan's typical large cargo hatches have been replaced by huge,

  transparent windows that appear to be made of industrial sapphire.

  Through these huge windows, he can vaguely make out the outlines of

  people inside the freighter. They are moving frantically, apparently

  hoping to be noticed by the two pilots

  "What

  the hell...? Sapphire windows on a Leviathan?" Pilgrim murmurs

  in amazement as he takes a closer look at the unusual ship.

  "These

  windows must offer an incredible view," adds Valkyrie, her voice

  slightly admiring. "I've never seen anything like this,

  especially not on a freighter. This is definitely not the standard

  model."

  Pilgrim

  raises his eyebrows and narrows his eyes. "Yes, this is more

  than strange. Whoever modified this knew what they were doing—or

  they wanted to transport and show something specific."

  As

  they continue to examine the unusual ship, they notice another

  serious piece of damage: the Leviathan's bridge was completely

  destroyed in the attack. Where the windshield once was, there is now

  a large hole. Shards of glass and metal protruded dangerously into

  the room, suggesting that the pilot—or whoever was flying the

  ship—had most likely not survived the attack.

  "No

  wonder we couldn't establish radio contact," Pilgrim says grimly

  as he surveys the destroyed area. "The cockpit is gone... The

  pilot probably didn't make it."

  "That

  explains why no one is in control of the ship anymore," Valkyrie

  replies thoughtfully. "But it doesn't explain why those people

  are locked in there—whoever they are."

  Through

  the sapphire windows, they can see the people inside continuing to

  gesticulate frantically, reinforcing the impression that they are

  panicked and possibly in grave danger. Pilgrim and Valkyrie exchange

  glances, even though they cannot see each other. The urgency of the

  situation begins to grow, and it's clear that they can't just fly on

  without investigating this strange Leviathan and its mysterious

  occupants more closely.

  "We

  need to find out what's going on here," Pilgrim says

  determinedly. Pilgrim and Valkyrie continue to circle the damaged

  Leviathan in formation

  and

  discuss via radio how best to make contact with the passengers or

  survivors on board. With the communication systems destroyed and the

  cockpit window shattered, there seems to be no easy solution.

  "One

  of us has to go in there and talk to the people!" said Valeria.

  "That's

  risky," Pilgrim remarked, his voice slightly tense.

  "I

  know," Valkyrie replied calmly, "but we have little choice.

  We have to resolve this situation somehow, and we can't just fly on

  and leave the Leviathan here."

  After

  a moment's thought, Pilgrim hesitantly agrees. "Okay, then try

  your luck, I'll cover you."

  "I'm

  counting on it," says Valkyrie with a tense and nervous grin

  that is almost palpable even over the radio.

  * * *

  Valkyrie

  carefully maneuvers her Eagle toward the Leviathan's docking bay. The

  atmosphere is tense, as any mistake in the close proximity to the

  damaged freighter could have devastating consequences. She stops her

  ship just a few meters away from the massive hull, her movements

  precise and controlled. With a hiss, the cockpit of her Eagle opens,

  the air inside sucked out into the vacuum and immediately freezing

  into a thin layer of ice. Slowly, Valkyrie climbs out of her cockpit,

  her pilot suit glistening in the sharp light of the stars and the

  reflections of the ship's hulls.

  "I'm

  outside, boss," she reports to Pilgrim via radio as she floats

  toward the Leviathan's airlock. Her gaze remains fixed on the

  massive

  freighter, which stretches out dark and damaged before her.

  Meanwhile, Pilgrim circles the freighter vigilantly in his Eagle,

  keeping an eye out for possible threats.

  "All

  clear here," he finally says. "Take care of yourself."

  "I

  will," Valkyrie replies as she gently touches down on the

  airlock. She activates the manual opening and the airlock door slides

  open almost reluctantly. Slowly, she floats into the interior of the

  Leviathan.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Inside,

  she is immediately greeted by a group of people who stare at her

  nervously and suspiciously. The men are wearing tuxedos and the women

  are dressed in elegant evening gowns, a strange contrast to the

  damaged surroundings of the freighter. Valkyrie remains calm, even

  though she can literally feel the tension among the people. Some of

  them give her suspicious looks, as if they believe that Pilgrim and

  she might be among the attackers.

  "Who...

  who are you?" one of the men asks suspiciously, his eyes

  narrowing. "Are you pirates?"

  Valkyrie

  opens her helmet visor and puts on a friendly but determined smile.

  Before she can answer, an elderly lady steps out of the crowd, her

  gray hair artfully pinned up and her gaze sharp.

  "Don't

  talk nonsense," she says in a firm voice. "Pirates would

  hardly arrive in such exclusive fighters as Eagles here, everyone

  knows that! They either belong to the Navy or are ex-military!"

  A

  murmur ripples through the crowd, and slowly the mistrust begins to

  fade. The resolute older lady steps closer to Valkyrie and looks her

  straight in the eye.

  "You're

  here to rescue us, aren't you?" she asks, her voice now gentler.

  Valkyrie

  nods. "That's the plan, yes. We received the distress signal and

  took out the pirates. You are safe for now, but the danger is not

  over yet. Reinforcements may already be on their way

  on

  their way, and with the damaged cockpit, the Leviathan is not

  maneuverable."

  Nevertheless,

  relief spreads among the passengers. Some begin to murmur words of

  gratitude, and one of the men in a tuxedo even pats Valkyrie on the

  shoulder.

  "Thank

  you," he says, his voice full of relief. "We owe you our

  lives."

  Valeria

  felt the pressure of the situation weighing on her shoulders as she

  looked around the Leviathan. The damaged walls and makeshift attempts

  to stabilize the ship after the attack made the already tense

  environment even more oppressive. These people had not only

  undertaken a dangerous journey, they had brought luxury and status

  with them—and were attacked by pirates in the middle of space.

  "Listen,

  I understand that you're all scared, but the security here is only

  temporary. Reinforcements for the pirates could arrive at any moment,

  and without a functioning cockpit or pilot, this ship is a drifting

  wreck," Valeria explained. Her voice sounded calm, but her words

  immediately sparked a wave of renewed concern among the passengers.

  Some murmured nervously, others cried out in despair, and the

  commotion spread quickly.

  The

  resolute older lady who had already demonstrated her leadership

  skills stepped forward again. With a sharp, piercing gaze, she looked

  at the other passengers, and her voice was like a whip: "Stop

  shouting! Let the professionals do their job, otherwise we'll all be

  stuck here. Understood?" Her words had the effect of a cold

  shower, and the passengers fell silent immediately. It was amazing

  how much respect this woman commanded simply through her

  determination and tone of voice.

  Valeria

  couldn't help but grin. She appreciated the resolute manner of the

  older lady, who had obviously taken on the role of leader. She moved

  away from the passengers and radioed Pilgrim: "Hey boss, the

  situation here is... well, under control, you could say. The

  passengers are excited, but there's this tough old lady who has the

  tie-wearing gang pretty well under control." Unnoticed by

  Valeria, who was focused on her conversation with Pilgrim, the

  passengers heard every word of her disrespectful remark. An angry

  man, who was obviously offended by Valeria's comment, stepped forward

  and clenched his fists. "How dare you talk to us like that us?!"

  But

  before the situation could escalate further, the elderly lady calmly

  raised her hand. With a quiet laugh and an amused twinkle in her

  eyes, she said, "It's okay, Jonas. I like her. At least she

  speaks her mind." The angry passenger paused, lowered his gaze,

  and stepped back sullenly, while the other passengers nodded

  hesitantly, apparently impressed by the older lady's coolness.

  Valeria

  felt relieved that the emerging conflict had been quickly resolved.

  She refocused on the situation and radioed Pilgrim, who was still

  monitoring the surroundings.

  "Boss,

  I've got the passengers under control, but we have a problem. The

  Leviathan's cockpit is completely destroyed, and without a pilot or

  functioning controls, we're sitting here like a target for the

  pirates."

  "Understood,"

  Pilgrim replied calmly, his voice accompanied by a slight static from

  the radio. "Do you have any idea how we can make the ship

  steerable again?"

  Valeria

  looked around inside the Leviathan and thought feverishly. "There

  might be a way," she muttered to herself as she went through the

  ship's technical systems. She spoke louder, more to the passengers

  than to Pilgrim: "Maybe I can make a temporary repair to the

  ship so we can at least get it out of the danger zone."

  The

  older lady crossed her arms and looked at Valeria searchingly.

  "Whatever

  you can do, young lady, would be great. We're

  not

  exactly in a position to be choosy here."

  Valeria

  nodded as she thought more deeply about the necessary repairs. The

  challenge of making a nearly unmaneuverable ship operational again

  was enormous, but she had no choice. Every moment they lost here put

  them all in greater danger.

  Valeria

  sighed quietly and tried to assess the situation as the angry man

  tried to reprimand her again. "Do you even know who you're

  talking to?" he asked, his authoritative voice sharp and full of

  arrogance.

  Valeria,

  unimpressed by his attitude, replies dryly, "No idea, and

  frankly, I don't care. I'm trying to get you all out of this mess

  alive."

  Before

  the man can respond, the older lady speaks up again. "It's okay,

  Jonas. Save your posturing for the board," she says with a

  mocking smile that underscores her claim to authority. She stands up

  to her full height and looks directly at Valeria.

  "I

  think it's time we all introduced ourselves properly." With an

  almost proud twinkle in her eyes, she explains, "My name is

  Irina Akerman, founder and long-time CEO of Orion Dynamics.

  The

  young man here is Jonas Akerman, my son and also former CEO of the

  company."

  Valkyrie

  raises an eyebrow, while Jonas Akerman, who now appears visibly more

  conciliatory, rejoins the other passengers. "And the others

  here," Irina continued, "are high-ranking employees and

  important business partners of our space travel corporation."

  She nods toward the ship. "This is the Orion One, our

  corporation's flagship."

  Valeria

  blinked in surprise and let her gaze wander over the elegantly

  dressed passengers, who were obviously not exactly equipped for a

  space battle.

  "I

  see," Valeria murmured and activated the radio channel to

  Pilgrim. "Hey, boss, I think our little mission here just got a

  lot more complicated."

  "How

  complicated are we talking about?" Pilgrim replied.

  Valeria

  sighed. "We're dealing with the Orion One here. The ship is full

  of Orion Dynamics' top executives, including the founder herself."

  There

  was a brief pause on the other end of the radio as Pilgrim processed

  the new information. "Great. I love it when simple rescue

  missions turn into corporate politics."

  Valeria

  couldn't help but smile at his dry tone, even though the situation

  was anything but amusing.

  * * *

  Irina

  Akerman explains in a matter-of-fact voice that the Orion One took

  only one direct hit to the cockpit, causing the atmosphere there to

  be lost. The rest of the ship is fully functional, with only the

  communication systems down due to damage to the antennas. "The

  electronics on board are in good condition, and all systems are

  working as intended," she adds. "It was pure luck that

  destroyed the cockpit."

  Valeria,

  who was still thinking through the situation, replied, "I can

  get into the cockpit without any problems thanks to my suit. But the

  problem is..." She glanced through the Leviathan's huge

  panoramic windows at her Eagle, which was drifting motionless next to

  the freighter. "...we only have two pilots and three ships."

  As

  she considers how to solve the problem, Pilgrim comes on the radio.

  "We can't just leave the Orion One behind," he says

  resolutely, "not in an area where more pirates could show up at

  any moment."

  Valeria

  agreed. "But leaving my Eagle here is not an option either. It's

  too valuable, and in the wrong hands it could cause serious problems.

  Not to mention the risk of it being destroyed before we return."

  Irina

  Akerman nodded thoughtfully. "I understand that. Neither the

  Orion One nor your Eagle should stay here. It's only a matter of time

  before someone notices us."

  Valeria

  sighed. "So I guess the only option is to destroy my beautiful

  Eagle." She didn't sound enthusiastic about this solution, but

  her tone of voice revealed that she was seriously considering this

  necessity.

  At

  that moment, Irina raised her hand. "I might have a better

  idea," she said with a slight smile. "You don't need to

  destroy your Eagle, you just need to deactivate it. Put the ship on a

  clear, distinctive flight path that is easy to follow. Then shut down

  the engines and systems completely so that it simply drifts onward

  due to its momentum. No pirate will notice, and I'll personally make

  sure it's recovered later."

  Valeria

  frowns thoughtfully. "That could work... as long as there are no

  other attackers nearby who can track down my fighter. At least it

  would allow me to fly the Orion One." She thinks for a moment

  and then nods hesitantly. "Okay, I'll do it. But I'm telling

  you, it still doesn't feel right to me."

  "Sometimes

  it's the unconventional solutions that turn out to be the best,"

  Irina replies calmly.

  "Is

  that the spaceship designer speaking?" Valeria asks with a grin,

  not really expecting an answer.

  * * *

  She

  briefly informed Pilgrim of the plan and began to set her Eagle on

  course while the others waited for the next steps.

  Valeria

  left the Leviathan again through the airlock, stepped out into the

  emptiness of space, and floated with steady movements

  propelled

  by her suit jets. Every movement felt surreal in the silence of the

  vacuum, and for a moment she was alone with the stars, without the

  slightest sound to interrupt her thoughts. The blue-gray hull of her

  Eagle glowed faintly in the light of the distant stars, and Valeria

  could feel the gentle pounding of her heart as she reached the

  outside of the cockpit. She took a deep breath and climbed back into

  her familiar, cramped cockpit. The instrument panels lit up as she

  reactivated the systems.

  With

  a careful push of the control jets, Valeria set the ship in motion.

  Slowly but surely, she accelerated the Eagle and set a course for the

  system's sun. The dampers of the gravity systems worked silently as

  the speed increased, the quiet hum of the engines the only sound

  breaking the endless silence of space. Valeria kept her eyes on the

  instruments, making sure the Eagle stayed on the optimal course. When

  the speed was sufficient, she finally deactivated the engines.

  The

  ship now drifted weightlessly, carried only by its basic systems,

  while Valeria shut down the remaining systems one by one. With a

  slight jolt, she opened the cockpit again, climbed out, and floated

  back to the Leviathan, her gaze still fixed on her receding Eagle.

  The ship, which she had only owned for a short time but had grown to

  appreciate greatly, now drifted silently into the darkness. It felt

  like a farewell – as if a part of her was left behind. Valeria

  watched as the heavy fighter slowly became a tiny dot in the vastness

  of space until finally nothing could be seen. She sighed quietly,

  carrying the loss within her, and continued on her way to the Orion

  One.

  Back

  on board the Leviathan, she was greeted by the passengers with

  palpable relief. Some had been worried that they might be left behind

  in their precarious situation, but Valeria

  leria

  was not deterred. She nodded briefly and concentrated on her next

  task. With determined steps, she walked toward the cockpit of the

  Orion One, where the hatch was already waiting for her. She knew it

  was a challenge—the cockpit was airless, and the hatch had to be

  opened and closed as quickly as possible to avoid the risk of

  critical air loss.

  Irina

  Akerman was already standing by, monitoring the operation. Valeria

  activated the control panel on the outside of the hatch. The moment

  the hatch opened, the remaining oxygen audibly flowed out of the

  interior of the Leviathan. She knew she only had a few seconds. With

  a well-practiced swing, she climbed into the cockpit, and before she

  had even taken her seat, she heard the hiss of the hatch behind her

  as Irina closed it again with astonishing precision and speed. A

  small part of Valeria was impressed by the older woman's efficiency.

  * * *

  Once

  in the cockpit, Valeria took her seat and let her hands glide

  expertly over the controls. The seat felt unfamiliar compared to the

  Eagle, but that didn't matter—she was here to save these people,

  and she knew exactly what to do. She activated the engines, and the

  loud roar filled the cabin as the

  Orion

  One slowly gained speed. The freighter vibrated slightly as the heavy

  engines set the massive hull in motion.

  But

  before Valeria could take the next step, Pilgrim's voice interrupted

  her moment of concentration: "Val, I have five bogeys on the

  sensors, approaching rapidly."

  His

  tone was cool and professional, but Valeria could hear the underlying

  urgency. Her stomach tightened.

  "Understood,"

  she replied, glancing briefly at the Orion One's control displays.

  "What's their distance?"

  "About

  25 clicks, just within sensor range, but they're approaching

  fast. I don't think they have friendly intentions." Valeria

  clenched her jaw. "Damn it!"