Captured by the Yandere Space Pirates

Syn studied the map, his fingers tracing the glowing paths, his mind calculating distances, angles, risks.

Four hours—too tight to run, too dangerous to hide, and Aster's mission hung in the balance, a fragile thread he couldn't snap.

He straightened, his hazel eyes sweeping the crew, his voice rising with a calm, steely edge.

"We brace for a fight. We don't have a choice. Taking those ships out is the only way to keep Aster safe." His words landed heavy, a call to arms born of necessity.

The cockpit thrummed with a taut silence, the crew's eyes darting between Syn and David, their postures rigid with uncertainty.

Syn stood on the bridge, his hazel gaze sweeping the room, catching the flickers of doubt in their stares—some narrowed, some wide, all questioning.

Was he really in command?

Vera's blood still stained their minds, Aster was a ghost on her mission, and here he was, an untested captain thrust into the fray.

David shifted beside him, his nod a quiet anchor, a signal to the crew that he, at least, stood with Syn.

Syn's jaw tightened, the weight of their hesitation pressing against him.

He straightened, his voice cutting through the hum of the ship, firm and unyielding. "

You can trust me if you want—or don't, if that's your call. But if you're not in, leave the room. I don't need half-hearted doubt slowing us down—confusion here means delays we can't afford." His words hung sharp, a challenge laced with necessity, his hands planted on the holo-map's edge.

He locked eyes with each crewmate, daring them to move, his pulse steady despite the churn in his gut.

No one budged.

The crew exchanged glances—some uneasy, some resigned—then turned back to their stations, fingers hovering over controls, waiting.

Syn exhaled, a flicker of relief easing his shoulders as their silent acquiescence settled in.

They weren't sold on him, not fully, but they'd stay, and that was enough for now.

"What do we do next, Captain Syn?" David asked, his voice steady, breaking the tension as he stepped closer, his name tag glinting faintly under the cockpit's stark lights.

Syn's gaze snapped to the holo-map, its glowing arcs tracing the Kingdom's six ships—four hours out and closing.

"Get our recon ships to send zoomed images of those vessels—now," he said, his tone clipped, decisive.

David nodded, tapping his comms unit, his voice low as he relayed the order.

Moments later, the screen flared, pixelated feeds popping up in sharp detail—the destroyer's angular hull, the fighters' sleek curves.

"Good," Syn murmured, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in, his fingers tracing the images, a pattern clicking into place. He straightened, his voice rising with a sudden, bold edge. "Start the engines—move us forward, straight at them."

"What?" A chorus of startled exclamations rippled through the crew, heads whipping toward him, their disbelief palpable.

A wiry tech at the nav station gaped, his hands frozen over his console, while a grizzled engineer muttered, "That's suicide," under his breath.

"We're taking them head-on?" David asked, his brow furrowing, his tone caught between trust and incredulity as he glanced from Syn to the map, the red arcs looming larger.

"Yes," Syn said, his voice unwavering, a glint of strategy sparking in his hazel eyes. He tapped the screen, zooming in on the destroyer's hull.

"They won't expect us to charge—they're counting on us to stay put here , or run away. Look—" He pointed to the feeds, his finger circling the ships' weapon ports.

"Their turrets aren't powered up yet. We've got a window, a small one, to hit them before they're ready." His words tumbled out, sharp and urgent, a gamble dressed as a plan, his mind racing to sell it.

The crew blinked, their confusion lingering, a few exchanging skeptical glances—his logic half-lost in the rush of adrenaline.

But David's eyes lit with understanding, the gist sinking in as he nodded, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

"You heard him—engines on, full speed ahead," he barked, clapping a hand on the nav tech's shoulder, jolting him into action.

The cockpit stirred, hesitant fingers dancing over controls, and soon the ship rumbled to life, its thrusters flaring as it surged forward, a reckless arrow aimed at the Kingdom's fleet.

Syn watched the map shift, the distance shrinking, then turned to David, his voice low but firm.

"Take the reins for a bit—I'll be back soon. Don't stop, no matter what." David nodded, stepping onto the bridge as Syn strode out, his boots echoing down the corridor, his mind already pivoting to his next move—Pako.

Soon, he reached her door and knocked, a sharp rap that cut through the quiet, his knuckles stinging from the force.

A muffled voice drifted from inside, tentative and familiar. "Syn?"

"Pako—stop sulking and come out," he said, his tone edged with exasperation, his fist hovering for another knock. "We need you—right now."

The door slid open with a groan, revealing Pako framed in the dim light, her tan skin glowing faintly under a cropped jacket and tight shorts, her dark hair flowed down like silky curtains. She struck a pose, arms wide, her voice lilting with a playful flourish.

"Ta-da~~! Look who's here—your favorite girl!" Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

Syn blinked, caught off-guard, his hazel eyes widening as he took her in—dressed, ready, not a trace of the sulky recluse he'd expected.

"Were you waiting for me to call you?" he asked, his voice a mix of suspicion and amusement.

"Maybe?" Pako teased, stepping forward with a sway, her arms circling his neck in a fluid motion as she pressed herself close, her lips finding his in a quick, eager kiss.

The ship shuddered faintly beneath them, its engines roaring as it charged toward the Kingdom's fleet, and Pako's kiss lingered on his lips.

Her scent—sharp and sweet, something floral—her warmth seeped through his shirt. She pulled back, her dark eyes glinting as she grinned, her tan fingers lingering on his collar.

"I've missed you."