I am a whisper . . .

. . . thought Drahk as he spiraled toward the bow of the massive UEE ship. The skate, a personal propulsion device grabbed from his now destroyed Jackal, plus the momentum gained when he was flung from the wreckage, provided enough thrust for him to quickly close in on the Human capital ship. Drahk had to be careful though. It wouldn’t be good to come in too hot.

Illuminated streaks sliced through space, catching his attention. Drahk glanced up to see Luroosh firing upon the Human ship’s stern. The attack was underway. Hopefully that meant the Humans would be too distracted defending themselves from the external threat to notice him sneak aboard their ship.

As he drew closer, Drahk recited the Rijoran passage once again, “It takes a single whisper to break a silence.” It served as a mantra of what was to come and a reminder that even though he was just one Tevarin, he still had strength enough to cripple an entire capital ship by disabling the right systems.

The distance to the ship flashed across Drahk’s visor. If his aim stayed true, Drahk would pass above the bow and have the length of the ship to set down. There would be a number of hatches atop to let him sneak inside.

Drahk never had the honor of crewing a Prowler, but he had heard stories about what it was like to board an enemy ship, mainly from tales of an elite Tevarin unit known as the Naulle. Only those who had mastered all 343 fighting stances could join.

Rumors were they could board ships without being noticed and then disappear before anyone knew they were there. Drahk dreamed of joining the Naulle, but was born far too late. Had he grown up during the height of the Tevarin Authority, he would have played khuley in a stone course on Kaleeth, learning the team tactics Tevarin boarders used so devastatingly against their enemies.

Instead, Drahk grew up around Humans in Olympus, stealing their disgusting food and dodging their dirty looks. The Rijora saved him from that life, and now, as the Human capital ship loomed closer, it was bringing him back to it.

A proximity alert flashed across Drahk’s visor. It was time to slow down. Drahk activated the retro thrusters on his skate and decelerated.

Then, suddenly, the ship moved. Its bow swung toward a tight gap between two nearby asteroids. Portside came to bear before Drahk. The long length of ship he had planned to use as a runway was now gone.

Drahk braced himself. The ship’s course change along with his deceleration meant he had lost ground. Quickly, he maxed out the skate’s thrusters to pick up speed. Drahk would not let his destiny be denied.

While accelerating, he banked to the left, carefully adjusting his path to the ship. If his approach angle was too great, he would overshoot the ship. Yet, if he pitched down too dramatically, a hard landing could injure him. He passed above the ship abeam to port, angled himself down towards the bow, and prayed for the best.

Glancing down, the ship was but a blur beneath his feet. The rapid movement made him woozy and forced him to glance away. Instead, he focused on the edge of the bow, which rushed at him faster than expected.

He curled his long frame into a tight ball and took the brunt of the impact in a roll. The wind was knocked from him, but he managed to activate his mag-boots before he tumbled over the edge.

The quick shift in momentum ripped the skate from his hands. It spiraled away, deflecting off the ship, then disappearing into the asteroids. He had hoped to use it to escape, but it looked like that was no longer part of the plan.

Drahk wasn’t deterred though, and, after ensuring his vitals were normal, he could not stop the swelling of pride that filled his heart. He’d done it. He had met his destiny and survived.