Chapter 1.2 – “The Angry Girl”

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-Chapter 1.2 – “The Angry Girl”-

Location: Patam System – K4-Q-Merid-12 – Deep Space – Aboard the Koruch

Date: NTC 1446.07.15

Outside the window, the floating girl looked in at the crew.

She raised her hand, pointed inward with her thumb, then opened her palm.

It was a gesture. As if to say:

“Shall I come in?”

A heavy silence fell over the bridge. Korsica furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes at the girl’s motion.

Then, he took a deep breath and reached for the radio:

Korsica (over radio):

“Mutes—”

But before he could finish, the youngest crew member, Yusuf, interrupted sharply.

Skinny and sunburned, Yusuf looked barely old enough to be on a ship, let alone giving orders.

His oversized belt threatened to slip off his narrow waist, and a battered radio hung awkwardly at his side.

There was a rip in his pants and a quiet stubbornness in his eyes — the kind only a kid with something to prove could wear.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. He spoke like someone who’d already decided he wouldn’t be ignored.

Yusuf (firm and fast):

“Wait, Captain! Let’s bring her in.”

Korsica (shocked and angry):

“What!? Are you out of your mind? Why would we bring that thing in?!”

Yusuf (serious, but excited):

“Anyone who can survive in open space without a suit isn’t human.

She’s probably an MT-5 class heretic form.

We bring her in, neutralize her, and she’ll fetch a good price in the Mute market.”

Thomas let out a loud laugh at that.

Thomas (mocking):

“Hahahaha… The kid’s right, Captain. She’s no rich brat.

Bet she stole that ship and didn’t even know how to fly it.

Blew up her toy like a dumbass!”

Korsica paused, squinting. Then turned to Kerim, as if expecting his judgment.

Kerim (calm):

“Why not? If she’s an MT-5, she could be worth a fortune.”

Greed flickered in Korsica’s eyes.

Korsica (softly):

“Hmm... Risky business. But smells like good money.”

Then he turned back to the crew and raised his voice.

Korsica (loud):

“Alright! I’ve decided! We’re bringing her in! She might be worth a fortune!”

Then he looked back at Yusuf.

Korsica:

“So, how do we capture her?”

He paused, tilted his head, and continued:

Korsica:

“The idea was yours. I assume you’ve got a plan, too, right?”

Yusuf (composed):

“I do, Captain.

We lure her into the airlock, seal it, and blast it with high-voltage current.

That’ll knock her out. The Mutes can go in and put a collar on her”

Korsica turned to Kerim again — looking for backup.

Kerim (calm and certain):

“I think it’ll work. MT-5 or not, nothing lasts long against high voltage.”

With Kerim’s approval, the plan made sense to Korsica.

He looked at Yusuf, his tone shifting.

Korsica (fatherly):

“Alright then. It’s your job, Yusuf. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Yusuf nodded, saying nothing.

This was his chance to prove himself — not just to Korsica and Kerim,

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but to himself. He wasn’t the scrap-cleaning kid anymore.

Yusuf (internal):

“Captain still thinks I’m a rookie. Kerim tries to protect me.

But I’m not that kid anymore.”

He took a deep breath and spoke into the radio:

Yusuf (into comms):

“Mutes, stop! Don’t attack the girl!

Lead her to the airlock and enter with her.”

Kerim gave him a proud look.

Kerim:

“Good thinking. We don’t want her to suspect anything.

Besides, we’ll be able to buy a hundred Mutes with what she’s worth.”

Korsica laughed, delighted.

Korsica (cheerfully):

“Hahahahaha..! We’re going to make a fortune, I can feel it!”

While they talked inside, the girl kept gazing in with curiosity.

Finally, she made a face — as if growing bored of waiting.

She raised her hand and tapped the glass, as if knocking on a door.

"KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK"

Thomas raised his hand and motioned for her to come in, shouting playfully —

as if she could hear him.

Thomas (yelling):

“Come on in!!”

The girl smiled, gave a thumbs-up, and returned the gesture as if to say, “Okay.”

Then she floated toward the airlock with the Mutes.

Kerim shouted over the comms:

Kerim (loud):

“Everyone to the airlock! Weapons ready!”

The crew rushed from the bridge and gathered at the airlock doors,

weapons drawn, waiting in tense silence.

The airlock was a narrow, rectangular chamber — no wider than a freight container, barely tall enough to stand without stooping.

Reinforced windows on both the inner and outer doors allowed a full view of whatever—or whoever—was inside.

Its steel walls were scuffed and burn-marked from countless rough dockings and emergency dumps.

There was nothing inside but cold metal, flickering hazard lights, and the quiet hum of atmospheric stabilizers — a box built for isolation, not comfort.

The girl and the two Mutes entered the chamber.

The outer door sealed shut with a heavy groan.

As soon as the outer door sealed shut, the chamber’s artificial gravity kicked in.

A faint pulse rippled across the floor like an electric surge, and the girl and the Mutes, who had been floating weightlessly, dropped gently to the ground.

There was no stumble, no hesitation — the girl landed with firm footing, as if gravity had always been hers to command.

She turned to look at the crew.

There was a strange smile on her face — calm, cold, and menacing.

The crew responded with uneasy, fake smiles of their own.

Then Yusuf shouted:

Yusuf:

“Now!”

The entire chamber lit up as electricity surged.

Sparks flew. All three figures began to thrash.

The Mutes trembled violently — then dropped to their knees,

and collapsed face-first.

But the girl… still stood.

Korsica screamed in horror.

Korsica:

“Yusuuuf! Why isn’t she falling!?”

Yusuf (gritting his teeth):

“She will..! Keep it going! Don’t stop the current!”

The girl took slow steps toward the window.

Then she raised her fist. Her face twisted with fury.

She punched the glass.

First strike:

"THUMP!"

Blood splattered.

The entire crew shouted as one:

“Haaauh!!”

A reflex of shock and fear.

Second strike:

"THUMP!"

More blood.

Yusuf (internal):

“Please fall. God, please let this work.”

Third:

"THUMP!"

Even more blood.

Thomas (panicked):

“Just fall already, you monster!!”

Fourth:

"THUMP!"

The glass was smeared with red.

Kerim (yelling):

“Everyone be ready!!”

Fifth:

"THUMP!"

A hairline crack formed.

"CRNNK"

The crew held their breath.

Korsica (freaking out):

“She’s gonna break the glass! Damn it, Yusuf! I should never have listened to you!”

Korsica (to crew):

“Get the guns ready! Give me one too! Now!”

Yusuf glared at him —

Did I really screw this up? he wondered.

Fear was written all over the crew’s faces.

Some couldn’t even raise their guns properly.

And just as the girl was about to land a sixth punch...

Her body shuddered. Her knees gave way.

The light vanished from her eyes, and she collapsed.

Everyone exhaled at once.

Silence fell.

Only the buzz and crackle of electricity filled the air.

Kerim was about to give the command to shut it down,

when Yusuf cut in:

Yusuf (firmly):

“Don’t stop!”

The Mutes beside her were nearly fried.

The organic one’s skin was blackened and smoldering.

His mouth hung open, not screaming, just… leaking smoke from his eyes.

The android sparked violently. Circuits fried.

Even its metal casing had begun to melt.

Kerim stared at Yusuf — surprised. Maybe even impressed.

Maybe his little brother really had grown up.

So this time, he’d leave it to him.

Still, as he looked at the twitching bodies, he thought:

This should be enough.

And just as he was wondering,

When is he going to stop it?

Yusuf (shouting):

“Okay..! Cut it!”

The voltage died. The sparks faded.

Silence swallowed the ship again.

No one dared speak — even breathing too loudly felt wrong.

The girl lay motionless.

The crew stood frozen. Silent.

The air hung heavy with one unspoken question:

“What now?”

They just stared at her.

Then—

Thomas (scratching his head):

“So... uh... what now?”

That brought the crew back to life.

Everyone straightened up.

Those holding their breath exhaled.

Those who hadn’t breathed took a deep one.

The first to speak was Yusuf.

Yusuf (confident):

“Bring the collar.”

This plan had worked. He knew it had.

Still — he didn’t know why he felt so uneasy.