“Hold. Grav-trap ahead.”

 

I tapped the comms, switching to the Diana crew’s channel. “Lunar, Moona, I’m picking up a grav-trap signature. Recommend we hold position and analyze.”*

 

I signaled the trailing Diana ships to halt, drifting closer to the debris field scattered before us.

 

No mistaking it—hidden among the jagged fragments of shattered asteroids was an artificial snare.

 

A grav-trap. Energy nets designed to paralyze ships mid-flight, a nightmare for any pilot navigating the endless void.

 

These traps are supposed to come with registered beacon signals and Mercenary Guild-issued IDs—strictly regulated. But this one? It bore no such markings.

 

Worse still, embedded within the trap’s core were shield disruptors, primed to cripple any vessel unlucky enough to wander in. A full suite of illegal tech.

 

Rim-worlders. Always leaving headaches like this in the black.

 

"An illegal trap," Yunikon said, her voice sharp.

 

"Let’s break it down," Moona replied. "We’ve been dismantling plenty this cycle."

 

"Rookies these days are reckless," Yunikon muttered. "Sure, they can do whatever they want in their backwater systems, but out here? It's a problem."

 

“Maybe the Guild needs stricter entry protocols,” I suggested, half-joking. "Even written certifications."

 

Yunikon snorted. "There wouldn’t be anyone left if they did.”

 

She wasn’t wrong. But with the sheer number of rogue mercenaries out here, something had to change.

 

Half the Guild was made up of proper hunters; the rest were glorified pirates. Better to weed them out than let them keep tarnishing the Guild's name.

 

"You’ve got an eye for traps," Moona commented.

 

"I’m... competent. Not like you void hunters born into this life. I make mistakes, so go easy."

 

"No, you spot them better than I thought."

 

"Wait, was that… praise?"

 

"It was praise."

 

"Your expression makes it hard to tell."

 

"So noisy."

 

"Hahaha."

 

"Quiet down, Yunikon."

 

"Yes, ma’am."

 

Scanning for anomalies had become second nature since I came to this sector.

 

Not that I felt particularly confident about it. What others called "average skill" still made me uneasy. I still needed to use my power, so I had to work twice as hard to keep up.

 

“Energy signature,” Moona announced.

 

“Huh? Where?” I asked.

 

“12 o'clock,” Aioi interjected, her voice steady as she pointed to the readings.

 

She was always the first to pick up on energy trails, while I struggled to make sense of the void’s endless patterns.

 

“You’re right. Nice work, Aioi.”

 

“Great spot, Aioi!” Yunikon chimed in.

 

"Ehehe."

 

Seeing Aioi get praised, I understood her treatment in Diana. She was the rookie of Diana, and they treated her as such. Doted on, even.

 

I couldn’t help but feel a little glad for her.

 

“What is it?” Moona asked, breaking her silence.

 

She was analyzing the energy readings, her voice clinical.

 

Probably gauging the creature’s mass from the distortion patterns.

 

"A space narwhal, I think," she concluded.

 

“Of course Narwhal would attract the one xeno-fauna with his name plastered on it. Did you send it a comms invite?”

 

“It’s migrating, not attending a reunion,” I grumbled.

 

“Maybe it’s here to challenge you for the title. ‘Only one Narwhal allowed in this sector.’”

 

Aioi, ever earnest, chimed in: “But Mr. Narwhal’s way scarier! I bet it’s fleeing just hearing his name!”

 

“Scarier? I’m flattered,” I said, deadpan. “Next time I’ll just roar over the speakers. Save us the plasma.”

 

Yunikon snorted. “Do it. I’ll record it for the Guild’s ‘Wildlife Diplomacy’ archive.”

 

“Hard pass. Last time I checked, my horns are metaphorical.”

 

“For now,” Lunar muttered. “Keep hanging around debris fields, and you’ll grow one.”

 

Aioi tilted her head. “Would it… be a blaster-horn?”

 

The crew burst into laughter. Even Moona laugh a little.

 

“Alright, enough,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Let’s not test evolutionary quirks today.”

 

Space narwhals. The bane of many a spacer. These xeno-fauna, with their bio-plasma horns, were infamous for their brutal simplicity. They didn’t just graze ships—they impaled them.

 

Despite their predatory horns, they eat radiation. The impaling? Likely just instinct. A nasty evolutionary quirk.

 

Veteran Guild members hated them even more, if only because their horns had absurd reach. Every year, the narwhals claimed lives, even among seasoned crews.

 

But the rewards? Worth the risk.

 

Their bio-armor, horns, and even meat fetched a high price. Personally, I preferred to shatter the horns—less trouble that way.

 

“It’s not in its territory,” Moona continued. “Probably just passing through.”

 

“Not heading toward any energy fields. Strange,” Yunikon noted.

 

“With rookies harassing them lately, their migration patterns are unpredictable,” Moona explained.

 

“Probably pointless to overthink it. What do you think, Narwhal?” Lunar asked.

 

They always threw these questions my way.

 

"I’m no expert," I replied, leaning back in my pilot’s seat. "I just take out whatever crosses my path. I don’t track their behavior, just follow Guild postings and scan randomly. Civilian instincts, you know?” I glanced at the sensor readings again. No change. "Nothing on our scopes but debris. Should be clear to proceed."

 

“Understood. Let’s keep moving.”

 

"Roger."

 

As we flew, I caught myself wishing for a moderately tough challenge—a space narwhal, a space shark, anything.

 

Something to show my strength. I still hadn’t tested my lance in action.

 

But as luck would have it…

 

“Oh?”

 

“Guah?”

 

Several raider ships appeared ahead, emerging from the asteroid belt like shadows.

 

One crewed ship and several aggresive looking fighters.

 

Raiders. Opportunistic scavengers of the deep void.

 

Obviously, they won't be friendly if greeted with a "hello," 

 

“Huh. Raiders,” Yunikon muttered.

 

“They’ve been growing bolder lately. The ones hiding in the asteroids must’ve fled deeper”

 

"But still using such big ship in asteroid field."

 

“Don’t bother predicting raider behavior,” I said dryly. “Want me to take them both?”

 

“Your call, Narwhal,” Lunar said. “Want me to clear them with plasma fire first?”

 

“No need. A single shot will do.”

 

The raiders powered up their weapons, clearly emboldened by our presence. All-female Diana crews were prime targets for scum like them.

 

But that arrogance would cost them.

 

“One plasma charge is plenty,” I said, a grin tugging at my lips. “Why? Because one is all it takes.”

 

"Something's started."

 

I loaded the plasma lance, feeling the capacitors strain as it powered up.

 

“Your targeting's off,” Yunikon teased.

 

“Too far,” Aioi added, giggling.

 

"No giggling, Aioi."

 

I blocked out their chatter, focusing on the raiders ahead.

 

“Fire!”

 

BOOM!

 

The plasma lightning arcs streaked forward, only to scorch a nearby asteroid.

 

“Shhh... shucks,” I muttered.

 

“Lame,” Yunikon said, stifling a laugh.

 

“Hey, everyone’s a beginner at some point,” Aioi defended.

 

"Show the power of the Plasma Lance!"

 

"Gyah!?"

 

Ignoring them, I closed the distance, slipping into the raiders’ crew ship blind spots and ramming their ships.

 

The lance pierced their reactors and bridges with ease, silencing their ships—and their laughter.

 

“Accuracy still needs work,” Lunar said, smirking. “But nice decisiveness.”

 

"Diana! Neutralize other raiders and call the security force!"

 

"Aww.. the weird lance is destroyed," Yunikon giggled.

 

“Not like I need hard-to-use weapons anyway,” I replied.

 

My trusty half-spec blaster had never let me down. It’s more like a partner than a tool. There’s a connection, you see? We understand each other. So I’d stick with it.

 

All of us then took out the raiders while waiting for the security force to come.

 

“...Still using that weird blaster?” Lunar asked, her eyes narrowing at the weapon strapped to my side.

 

“Properly focused, it’s got decent range,” This half-spec blaster responds to me in a way other weapons don't, extending my reach in ways you wouldn't believe.

 

“It’s fine.” I continued 

 

“You should switch to a proper blaster,” she said, unimpressed.

 

“You don’t understand the power of the half-spec blaster,” I said, laughing softly.

 

The others exchanged skeptical looks, but I’d show them.

 

It's not about raw power, It's about harmony. This half-spec blaster, it's... an extension of myself, you could say. But you wouldn't get it.

 

When the right creature showed up, they’d see.

 

“Mr. Narwhal’s half-spec blaster is strong,” Aioi said earnestly.

 

“Oh? You get it, Aioi?” I asked.

 

“Yup. Hard to argue after seeing it in action.”

 

“See?” I said, turning to the others.

 

“Hmm...well, I did hear about that from Aioi, but it still sounds unbelievable,” Lunar muttered. “Maybe spar with Goressa later?”

 

I winced. “Uh… maybe not.”

 

It wasn’t that I’d lose. Goressa was just… scary.

 

“Alright, break time,” Yunikon announced.

 

After handing the raiders to the security force, we continued through the asteroid fields, dismantling traps and clearing out the debris.

 

Eventually, we arrived at the maintenance station.

 

“Someone’s already here,” Aioi said, frowning.

 

Survey teams or expeditions sometimes used these stations, so it wasn’t unusual.

 

But the mood shifted.

 

“The problem,” Yunikon said grimly, “is whether they’re proper guests.”

 

“...Yeah.”

 

The station, isolated and defensible, was a prime spot for pirates.

 

And we all knew it.

 

 

 

 

Author's note : wanna read future chapters earlier? visit :41Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡanc2PmdFBC
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