A note from Typist kid

I read my own work, and can fix my own grammar. However, I do not see my own work the way you do. I might be biased, or simply too pessimistic. So, I wanted to say that feedback would be appreciated. 

However, you can still stay anonymous if you want to. I'm just asking to know where I'm at, from another point of view.


Darell’s hunched over his desk, lazily watching the screen in front of him. He has bags under his eyes. On his desk, there are the packagings of various eatables lying around messily. He’s sipping on some fruit juice through a straw.

His job is simple. Keep a lookout for any distress signals, and then assign nearby Sentinels over to that location. It is also boring. It is rare for anything interesting to come up.

The screen flashes.

Beacon at coordinates 176A-563S. Tag identified as the Architect.

Rare, but not impossible.

The man raises his eyebrows.

"Huh? A code name?" He mutters.

He taps a few floating holographic icons. A moment later, a woman enters his office.

"What is it?" The woman asks impatiently.

"Beacon. Sent by the 'Architect'. Do you know... who this person is?"

The woman frowns for a second.

"The Architect was a Rogue active around two years ago. However, he's been inactive for the past two years. We thought he must've… perished fighting some pirates. He was a Rogue, but one with a strong sense of justice. He was classed as a Tactician, with a partner providing him tech. He also liked to leave clues for us to find, leading us to some... less moral Rogues and Pirates. He sent a beacon, you said?"

Darell nods.

"Interesting. He could've been captured and must've figured out a way to send a distress signal. Or he's playing another game with us, which I find unlikely considering how long he's been gone. Either way, we should send a group of Sentinels his way. A-ranking only."

The man's mouth is left slightly agape.

"A-ranking... for a single Rogue? Doesn't that seem a bit... over the top?"

The woman smiles and shakes her head.

"Not at all. He has evaded capture from an S-ranked officer before. If anything, I fear A-ranked officers aren't enough. His capabilities are in high demand, but it is not enough to warrant the dispatch of S-ranked officers."

"I'm... somehow finding that hard to believe."

The woman shrugs.

"Trust me. I'm the S-ranked officer he escaped from. " She snorts.

"Funny coincidence, huh? I'll be going with the squad to oversee this personally."

"But-Divina! The Captain's orders!"

She smiles dangerously.

"I'll take care of that later."

After I surrendered, I’m taken to the pirate's ship, named the Emerald Drive. It’s large, about one-third of an Alpha, If I have to estimate. My Builder's aesthetics have me cursing whoever built the piece of junk.

Freaking expensive junk.

Darn, if I had those materials...

I force myself not to complete that thought.

The winged woman, whom I like to call Lucy had twirls around in an enticing manner. She flashes me a smile, before disappearing.

I ignore her.

I am (once again) handcuffed, and led to an (another) cell. At least the pirates have the courtesy of providing me a nice view this time.

Unlike the Sentinels, Pirates don’t have top-notch cells. They don't need them as much. And besides, they don't pick up Warriors on a daily basis. As such, I’m taken to a cargo room. They force me to sit on a filthy chair, with two men constantly pointing their weapons at me.

They do know to keep a signal jammer nearby, though. Not that it would do any good now.

They look like they need a bath. Or ten.

I give them an unamused look. One of them sneers and shoves his weapon into my face, turning my head away from him.

I don't wince. I keep my face stony.

That would be showing weakness. Pirates are like animals. They like their shows of intimidation, and preyed on the weak. Except for the smart ones. Those, you stay away from at all costs.

Unfortunately, I had ended up running into three of them. And roasted one, too.

The lean man doesn't give a shit about her, though. I'm guessing he must be high up in the pirate hierarchy and has better things to do currently. That explains why he isn't here, torturing me.

The other guy must be with her at the moment.

Nonetheless, I have limited time. If the Sentinels don't arrive soon, I’m screwed.

I don't feel anxious, though. What would happen, would happen. I need to work on getting out of here.

I close my eyes and analyze the situation.

Two pirates behind me. Both of them with plasma rifles. Estimated thirty-four shots per magazine, and three magazines on hand for each. Reflexes?

I open an eye and look at them. They don't as much as blink.

"Hey!" I shout.

They jolt. I assume they were busy thinking about women. And sex. And other nasty shit. Either way, they don’t like being interrupted.

I also note that their reflexes are average.

"What?" The one who poked me says.

I'm guessing he’s the leader of the duo. Mostly because he seems to be the only one taking action. The other one doesn't look smart enough to be a Strategist or a Tactician.

"I need to take a piss," I say.

I really didn't, but they don't know that. Besides, I can use my implants to... stimulate my bladder, if needed.

The man growls.

"You can take a piss here." He says.

The other one laughs, his voice gravelly.

I raise an eyebrow and smile.

"Right here? Well, fine then."

I reach down for my pants as their eyes widen. They turn around.

I'm guessing because they aren't exactly all that keen on looking at a guy's... yeah.

These guys aren't all that smart, are they?

I dart forward, my speed enhancements coming into play. I'm right behind the leader before he can even turn around. I pull my hand over his head, the chain of my handcuffs wrapping around his neck. I pull and turn him around just as the other points his gun towards me.

He shoots.

I wince as the man in my arms thrashes around, in pain. The other man is in shock.

The man in my hands goes limp, his rifle falling to the ground. I let him go, bend and snatch the rifle, set it to stun mode, and then shoot the man while he's still staring at the dead pirate.

He goes limp too.

I then walk to the chair, wrap my handcuffs around one of its legs, set one of my feet on the back support, and pull.

I wince, as the handcuffs slowly slides off my hands. They aren't exactly my size, and I’m flexible, to begin with.

Once it comes off, I rub at my wrist. I walk over to the unconscious pirate, drag him over to a corner of the room, and leave him there. On the other side of the room, are various crates, so I go over to take a look.

Most of what I find are eatables, liquor, weapons, and ammunition. I abandon the rifles of the pirates for dual plasma pistols. They are common, light, and best of all, have lots of ammo lying around. I take four magazines, packing them into my pockets.

Among some of the crates are ship parts. I tear off the cable of one, and use it to tie up the unconscious pirate. Then I gag him with the same cable. The cable’s used in shipbuilding. It would take at least top notch B-ranked strength implants to break them apart. I doubt that the man can afford them, but as I take no chances, I wrap him with another round. It should slow him down at the least.

I then break apart some of the things in the room and take some stuff that I am needing at the moment. Unfortunately, I can’t carry all of it, so I just take five things. One is a processing core, another was a shard of terbium, and the others are some A-ranked tools. There is an S-ranked mini-engine, used in jetpacks that I have to painstakingly leave behind.

It weighs around three hundred kilograms.

After I’m done looting whatever I needed, I leave the room. I casually shoot the two pirates standing guard outside. They drop to the ground, unconscious. Then I feel like facepalming when I realize that tying that pirate up was for naught.

I was originally going for stealth. But seeing as how they'd now notice that I’m gone because of the two missing pirates, I have to change plans.

I drag them both into the room. Then I go out again and remove a few panels. All while constantly looking over my shoulder in case anyone comes. Then I shoot the door mechanism and set the panels back in place. The only hint that the door isn’t working is the non-functioning screen by the side of the door.

I twirl the guns in my hands and grin.

It’s time for some action.

A note from Typist kid

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About the author

Typist kid

  • A Weird Cyborg

Bio: Hey guys, I'm a kid that's currently into typing. Hence the name.

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Dragonsword @Dragonsword ago

"{Most of what I find are eatables, liquor, weapons, and ammonition.}"

-'ammonition' should be 'ammunition'.

Thanks for all the chapters. I recommend when you are switching perspective for different characters or different times putting an obvious POV label or a Line such as ——— in between the sections.

Bedeulfi @Bedeulfi ago

'I take four rounds, packing it into my pockets.' rounds and not magazines or clips?

yeah a POV devider would be good