Last Daughters #011

The Matriarch

We are two weeks into our patrol under the direct command of the Matriarch. Surrounded by the inky black, we scour the outer reaches for targets. This was once a profitable zone as it was crisscrossed by multiple shipping lanes. But now, all I’ve been seeing on my tactical display ever since we started, was the reflection of my bald pate.

We are about to begin our third week, which is marked by a change of shift. But without warning, our sensor officer blurts out that he detects something. Everyone in the bridge perked up.

With a smooth gesture of her calloused but shapely hands, the Matriarch orders the helmsman to re-orient our ship to point towards the unknown object. I feel it lurching as the thrusters turn us slowly.

Within a few seconds, the zoomed-in image of the object appears on our main viewscreen.

For a moment, everyone looks at it in silence. What I see is clearly ancient, and is pitted with equally old scars from asteroid strikes and from other harsh things we can't describe.

Old wrecks are rare, but not entirely absent in the outer reaches. But apart from having an unknown design I haven't seen before, there is something not quite right about the object.

As its battered shape spins, my own display adjusts itself to focus on hints of what looks like shadowy tendrils around the object's hull. Are these a product of my tired eyes? Are these worthy enough to report? I know not the answers to these.

“Open comms?” Our young communications officer suggests. I turn to the Matriarch who I see answering the officer with a frown.

To somewhat provide clarification, the first officer sitting beside our leader implies that the thing is more likely worthless…and dangerous.

At this, the pirate Matriarch, surrounded by the golden coated skulls of her once rivals, lets out a singular, buttery smooth chuckle.

“Worthless? Nothing that old is ever worthless. Dangerous?” She says as she leans forward to gesture to the display with her lithe but sculpted arm. “Very likely. But when did that ever stop us?”

She then leans back down towards her sizable command chair. This causes the gold and red cloth of her decorative headdress to gently waft to her sides.

“This is the first thing we’ve seen in days, and I am keen on taking it. I care not if it's Imperial or owned by Moz and her greedy ilk.”

“Approach with caution.” She commands the helmsman. She then turns to look at me. Her gaze feels like a dagger was pointing at the back of my neck.

“Wake the guns.” She says, before closing her eyes to directly commune with our ship's sensors.

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LD011