"Captain, I'm detecting an approaching vessel, heading 2100, approaching our starboard bow." He said, twisting around in his seat.

Ward suddenly became more alert, a look of grave concern gripping his visage. "Lusaka, give me visual and scan on the approaching ship."

"Acknowledged." The ship A.I sounded. "Scanning incoming vessel."

The large screen at the front of the ship changed its display, changing from cycling numbers to show the black and starry void of space. Zooming in, a fully-rendered image of the oncoming ship was revealed to James. It was a ramshackle, rickety-looking hunk of metal, angular and disparate, its rivets smeared with rust. But it bore several tell-tale features; multiple naval gun turrets of various calibres, jet-black plasma burns painted across the hull, and the engines rhythmically rising and falling in power.

The ship looked in a very poor way. Just as its designers had intended, no doubt.

"Vessel is 156 metres by 71 metres by 65. Corvette dimensions. Equipped with third generation plasma thrusters and a fast-acting wormhole synthesiser. Armaments: extensive. Class: undetermined."

"Captain, they're sounding a distress signal," said Lieutenant Bowden, the Lusaka's red-haired communications officer.

"Ignore them, sir." James butted in. "I'd know this tactic anywhere." Every eye in the room gazed at him. "That's a Cartel ship."

Captain Ward looked at him and nodded, but everyone else looked confused. "How can you be sure?" Moore asked aloud.

"Because I ran raids like this when I was undercover with them." James stated, looking the Janusan dead in his dark eyes. "They'll wait for us to let our guard down, then their friends will show up and blast us apart."

Ping-ping. Ping-ping. Ping-ping-ping.

Another signature flared up on the radar. Another ship of similar size, heading straight for the Lusaka. And then, from within the mineral rings of Vishnu, another craft came surging forth, turning towards the frigate's rear as it approached from behind.
"I rest my case..." James announced out loud.

Captain Ward wasted no time with a response. "Red alert! All hands brace for evasive manoeuvres. Tactical, arm weapons and prepare bulkheads." He leant forward and pressed his hands together, narrowing his eyes. "Let's give these bastards something to think about..."

The ship's alarm continued to shriek; its sound punctuated by the frantic tapping of fingers and the A.I incessantly repeating "We are under attack! This is not a drill!". The main screen zoomed out away from the Cartel ship, showing the Lusaka's exterior. James flipped several switches on his desk, and the thundering sound of moving machinery echoed through the ship. On his display, a net of flickering lights all switched to a single colour - green.

"Weapons armed and online, Captain" he raised his voice over the alarm.

"Very good." Ward said, leaning over his desk and pressing the PA switch. "This is the captain speaking. All hands, put on your helmets and activate your oxygen supplies. Prepare for ship to depressurise."

The tapping of fingers was suddenly replaced by a clutter of rattling and fumbling as everyone reached down to their sides and unclipping their helmets from their belts, gripping tightly to keep them from floating away in the zero-g environ. James did the same, unhooking the headpiece and lifting it over his head. As the transparent visor slid downwards, it misted up slightly, only to clear when James used his PDA to switch on his back-mounted respiration tanks.

Unlike the piece of junk that he wore back in the Cartel, this helmet had an electronic HUD which showed his body's G's, his suit's condition, and how much oxygen he had left. Navy standard-issue, state-of-the-art human tech.

The radar's beeping began to increase in tempo, the two signatures getting closer and closer.
"Captain, the first two ships are moving towards our bow. Distance, 28,000 klicks." James announced over the comms.

Moore followed up with "Ship is prepared for evasive manoeuvring."

Ward watched the main screen, leaning upon his right arm as he sat in his chair. "Accelerate to full speed," he barked. "All hands, brace for extreme G's."

Without a word, the helmsman floored the accelerator, and the sudden sensation of weight flooded back onto the bridge. James felt his bones ache as thrust gravity pulled his downwards in his seat. The Lusaka lurched forward as its crew gritted their teeth.

"How are my weapons, Gideon?" the Captain cried out.

Immediately swiping his display right, James was greeted a plethora of bright green lights. On the screen, they rendered Lusaka's naval railguns and cannons arose into position as the craft hurtled forwards, spinal and broadside weapons preparing to fire. "All torpedoes tubes loaded, point-defence lasers and plasma cannons armed, sir."

"Good." The captain's hissed over the radio as he turned to Elitra. "EE, commence depressurisation."

"Aye, sir." The Nalyr replied through her bulbous black helmet, not making a fuss. Instead, her spindly fingers reached for a large, prominent switch on her station. "Air tanks are prepped." she announced over the comms. "Three, two, one... depressurising!"

She pressed the switch in, and a loud, caustic hiss filled the room. Pressure valves and vents opened, funnelling the air out of the rooms. As this happened, the shriek of escaping air grew quieter and quieter, slowly fading until only silence remained.

The smell of sweat reeked inside James' helmet, tainting the only breathable air he now had.

Captain Ward levelled his gaze with the screen, watching as the Cartel ships continued to close with the Lusaka. James watched as well, his fingers positioned right over the fire control. The frigate was larger and better armed, but outnumbered and surrounded. The first and second corvettes barrelled towards them, while the third circled like a vulture, biding its time.

The advancing Cartel ships came within 12,000 kilometres.

"Moore, hold your course. Gideon, scan targets. I want to know each of their point-defence capabilities."

"Aye, sir." James immediately set to work, selecting the three corvettes on his radar display and programming the Lusaka to locate any PD-type weapons. The screen immediately projected 3D schematics of the ships, highlighting key parts of their infrastructure in flashing green light while green text scrolled alongside it.

But then, another frantic beeping arose from the radar. Swiping the scan aside, James gazed down at the radar and gulped as he saw a small, fast moving object speeding towards the Lusaka from behind.

"Torpedo, incoming fast, starboard stern!" he cried out over the comms.

Captain Ward pushed his PA. "Aft PDL's, fire!"

Onscreen, two twin-linked cannons at the Lusaka's rear rotated about and brandished their barrels, locking on to the same target. Tracking left, the screen then revealed the incoming torpedo, propelling itself straight for their engines. Eight seconds from impact.

The cannons fired, red-hot lasers blasting forth and striking the torpedo dead-on. The warhead closed the distance with the Lusaka at incredible speed, with no air resistance to slow it down and no obstacles between it and its target. But as the two point-defence lasers beamed continuous fire, the torpedo's hull was burned through and it exploded into a hail of red-hot metal shards that pinged against the Lusaka's hull like snowflakes against a tree.

Relief swept over James, and it grew into earnest gratitude as his helmet was filled with the words 'scan complete.' Glancing back down and swiping the scan across, James read the results.

"Gideon?! Where's my scan?" Ward raised his voice.

"Done, Captain!" James replied. "Forward two vessels have medium point-defence, but the one behind us has none.

Through his helmet's visor, Captain Ward grinned. "Perfect. Mr Gideon, lock torpedo tube 3 on target."

James nodded, his hands flying back to the screen. His gaze fell swiftly on the circling corvette, and he programmed a course.

"Fire!" Ward cried out, and James smashed the fire control. Immediately, a single torpedo came streaming from the Lusaka's aft-port tube, rocketing towards the corvette at breakneck speed. The criminal ship fired its engines up to max, but it was too late. The torpedo zeroed in, ripped through their armour and plunged deep into their ragged-looking hull.

In complete silence, the Cartel corvette burst apart, glowing red-hot as the warhead detonated. Chunks of armour were blasted from its frame, flaming gouts of fuel sprayed outwards into the void, and emaciated corpses slowly drifted from the wreckage that remained and into the gravity well of Vishnu to be crushed and ripped apart.