CURRENT SITUATION:
THE BLOODHAWK IS STILL SHUDDERING FROM THE LAST VOLLEY.
THE SAWTOOTHS AREN'T RETREATING. THEY'RE BOARDING.
[INTERIOR – BLOODHAWK – FORWARD CORRIDOR]
Red emergency lights pulse like a heartbeat near cardiac arrest.
The ship vibrates — a deep metallic groan rolling through the hull.
Zev skids around a corner, hand pressed to the wall.
Zev:
"Pressure seals just tripped! Someone's latching onto us from the outside!"
Rue, hopping beside him, Claws jittering with agitation:
"Multiple people. At least… seven? Eight? No, more. Too many. Too many scuttling heat signatures—like cockroaches with flamethrowers."
The hallway lights flicker.
A clunk echoes — heavy, deliberate — like a giant stapling metal onto the hull.
Neto's voice bursts through comms, static and steel braided together:
Netoshka:
"All stations—brace. We're being boarded."
[BRIDGE – RON & BATTERY]
Ron slams a fist into the console.
Ron:
"I knew that broadcast wasn't their last threat! They've grappled onto the dorsal spine—AND the port wing! Battery—tell me the autopilot's still responsive!"
B4TT3RY:
"RESPONSIVE? YES. OPTIMAL? NO.
DAMAGE RATIO EXCEEDS ACCEPTABLE—"
The whole bridge lurches sideways.
B4TT3RY:
"—PARAMETERS."
Ron growls through his teeth.
Ron:
"They're not trying to sink us.
They wanna take us."
[DECK LEVEL – CHARGE BAY — NETOSHKA]
The door hisses open and Netoshka storms in, coat snapping like a dark flag.
Her eyes glow faintly — the same eerie flicker she gets during Wire visions.
Her squad converges around her:
• Zopi, rifle already loaded
• Surgien, muttering curses
• SP3CTR, adjusting his masked visor
• Alev, flames licking his fingertips
• Raine, cracking her knuckles
• Genrihk, quiet and statuesque
• Ginny, monitoring signals from her wrist console
• Renzo, eyes unfocused as his senses map the intruders
• Serah, blade drawn
• Taran, checking ammo
• Twila, fading in and out
• Cirke, trembling from psychic interference
All waiting for her command.
Netoshka lifts her head.
Netoshka:
"Okay, these Assholes,
They want our ship.
They want our cores.
And they really want—"
She dusts off her gloves.
"—me."
Rue raises her hand.
Rue:
"And possibly our snacks—just saying."
Zopi:
"Priorities, Rue. Focus."
A deep drilling noise tears through the air.
Then metal bursts inward.
A circular section of the hull drops like a severed lid.
And from the smoke—
the Sawtooth Razors pour in.
[THE HIJACK BEGINS]
Clawed grappling boots.
Spiked armor tinted with oil-matte black.
Jagged respirators.
Weapons made from scavenged turbine parts.
The Razors move like sky-wolves hunting across the deck.
Their leader among the boarders — a tall lieutenant with chrome mandibles etched on his mask — points forward.
Razor Lieutenant:
"Take the bridge! Corral the crew! Leave the Glitching Aberration to Stratos!"
Netoshka's brow tightens.
Netoshka:
"…He really said that?"
Alev:
"I vote we cook him."
Surgien:
"I vote we go home."
SP3CTR:
"Focus. They're advancing."
[COMBAT – CORRIDORS]
The Bloodhawk becomes a maze of ambush points.
Zev shifts, bones creaking, a guttural growl rising as fur tears into existence.
Zev, who is almost reacting in a animalistic way as he sort of transforms:
"Get. Out. Of. My. Ship!"
He lunges forward, ripping a Bandit off his hooks like tearing a page from a book.
Rue hisses, darting behind him, firing electrified bolts into another.
Rue:
"Behind you—behind you—BEHIND YOU—!"
Zev:
"I can hear them!"
—
Surgien gets pinned against a wall by a Razor wielding a jagged scrap-blade.
Surgien:
"Hey hey HEY—this is vital surgical equipment here—!"
A shadow cleaves the air.
Zopi fires a single round, dropping the attacker without blinking.
Zopi:
"Try not to die, Surgien."
Surgien:
"I'm Trying."
—
Genrihk stands perfectly calm as three Bandits rush him.
A soft rasp of bone.
A whisper from another plane.
Spectral Ghostly claws erupt from the floor and drag the Bandits screaming into the shadows beneath the ship.
Cirke, watching, shivers
Cirke:
".. Ugh, that's gross."
Genrihk:
"Your phrasing remains accurate."
[BRIDGE BREACH – KRANE'S POV]
KRANE STRATOS, aboard the Spinebreaker, watches the Bloodhawk through cracked goggles.
The distant flashes — gunfire, sparks, shadows — reflect in his lenses like falling stars that learned to scream.
His officers stand around him, monitoring the breach.
Sawtooth Navigator:
"Boarding parties 1–4 are inside.
Resistance is heavy."
Krane:
"Let them struggle.
Let them claw.
The Bloodhawk will kneel."
He taps the screen, zooming into Netoshka fighting in the corridor — her eyes burning, her blade slicing through three attackers in a single motion.
He pauses.
Watches again.
Then laughs — jagged, delighted.
Krane:
"Wow, she really is a Rowdy one eh? ."
He leans forward.
Krane:
"Bring her to me. NOW!"
[BACK TO BLOODHAWK – MID DECK]
A Bandit detonates a plasma clamp on the floor.
The ship tilts.
Lights flicker into darkness.
Ginny:
"They're trying to override our system access! Neto, they're hacking into autopilot—!"
Netoshka:
"Not on my Watch."
She glances around sharply.
Netoshka:
"All squads—
they want the bridge.
We stop them before they turn the Bloodhawk into a coffin."
Taran:
"Where do you want us?"
A pause.
Then her voice slices the air cleanly.
Netoshka:
"We'll split for now.
Team One—follow me.
Team Two—hold the starboard hall.
Team Three—secure the generator and keep Rue alive.
Team Four—push up to the bridge and reinforce Ron."
Her eyes flash again — faint, ghostly numbers and Strange Symbols pulsing behind her pupils.
1—3—4—5—7—3—13—24—15... skzzz..
Zev clams down for a bit.
Rue's hands twitch .
Genrihk tilts his head slightly, sensing an old whisper behind those numbers, observing her.
But Netoshka shakes it off.
Netoshka:
"We take back our Bloodhawk from these Bastards.
Let'z get a Move on it, Now!"