In the dark confines of space, a small transportation spaceship floated erratically as it swiveled around.

The darkness was so vast.

Fluid blobs floated about before disbanding into smaller ones continuously. Pieces of shrapnel tore off from the ship and even though it leaked fuel, its structural integrity held up, surprisingly…

The vacuum in this void was incomparably brutal to all voyagers. It would simply tear up the entire vessel the moment a small opening revealed itself. All ship construction firms were keen on this issue. They had come up with a few ways of tackling this bothersome problem, all in a way that did not raise the price of the vessels prohibitively.

They sealed the most risk-prone areas present on the ship. The fuel tanks.

Ship grade fuel would burn any being to oblivion, its poisonous fumes would then consume the rest. The fact that the cruel vacuum wouldn accept their offering of poisonous fumes in exchange for some quick oxygen further doomed those aboard the vessel.

By reinforcing the oil tanks they saved the ships from two awaiting catastrophes. The first was an event where the attack came from within the ship. The heavy metal prevented such an incident from occurring. the officers onboard would have enough time to respond or try to hinder the suicide attacker. If they ever faced an attacker they couldn stop? they were doomed anyway.

Besides, a force with that much strength wouldn bother sneaking up on a third-class vessel.

The second reason was in case an outer breach occurred. Space held insidious beings, most of which came fully equipped in in comfortable human skin. Pirates.

They would attack shipping vessels to plunder. they would also attack civilian vessels if they ever came across one. Their reasons? slaves and a new ship to their roster.

There existed contingencies to handle them, those anti-pirate plans mattered even less to the shipwrights dealing in construction. Those bastards were rich enough to have their own private shipping lines.

Fuel tanks were on the lower decks of the ships, a difficult place to attack. Not entirely impossible.

The tanks were closer to the inner hull beneath the ship. they had been placed that close to the end of the ship for other uncountable reasons. The world of engineering had a special phrase for it every single construct had a trade off. they had to weaken a part to strengthen another. This was besides the point.

The tanks were reinforced in the parts facing out towards the hull. the part facing the interior was double the times of that. If for whatever reason the tank got cracked through, the heavy bunker would have only the fuel sucked out into the cold abyss. The ship occupants would snuggle in their cabins and await the all-clear from the bridge.

[Emergency!]

[Engine break room has been breached, fuel leak verified].

The cold Artificial being calmly and ruthlessly delivered the pertinent news.

Red emergency lights blinked all over the craft as sirens blared in every cabin. The lights furiously urged the passengers to wear their vacuum suits and gather in the safe room, the most heavily bunkered room onboard, second only to the bridge.

The bizarre was demonstrated when no movement could be witnessed throughout the entire vessel.

Normal human logic dictates chaos when order is especially needed.

The halls should have been flocking with people pushing and pulling against each other. The silence persisted in their stead.

As the stale purified oxygen slowly flowed around the ship. Its inertness allowed it reprieve from all the gruesome scenes depicted in the vessel.

Mutilated bodies lay atop each other, blood flowed towards the lowest point on the metallic floor. A massive dark hole that led down.

Cleaning bots bumped onto the heavily tattered bodies in a repeated loop. The scene was harrowing.

Charcoal black smoke slowly spewed out of deep holes left open by flaming hot lasers. A melted pool of slag clung to the edge of the walls that compartmentalized the vessel.

Collapsed metallic bunkers blocked hallways. Metallic shrapnel littered the lonely blood-sprayed halls, the heavily damaged cabin doors opened but failed to fully close in an eerie loop.

The safest room onboard, codenamed the safe room was the hardest one hit yet. It was hard to imagine the kind of weapon that had made a total joke of modern third-class armour. Massive holes ran straight through the heavily bunkered walls, it would make one doubt the stability of the material used in the construction of the ship.

The attack had to be incomparably brutal to do this kind of damage. The condition of the

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