Star Lark and the Space Pirates

 Star Lark and the Space Pirates 

Finn gripped the controls of the Star Lark, his fingers shaking as he watched the radar. It had only been a week since he set out on his first solo run, hauling cargo from Luna Station to the Titan colonies. At 14, he was one of the youngest pilots in the fleet—a fact that both terrified and thrilled him. His dad had flown this same route for years, always returning with wild stories about asteroid fields, solar flares, and pirate ships. Now it was his turn, and he was ready. 

At least, he thought he was. 

The radar beeped again, louder this time, and the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck prickled. There was something big tailing him, far too big for a friendly transport ship. He glanced over his shoulder at the empty cockpit, wishing he had someone—anyone—to talk to. 

A deep, rumbling voice suddenly crackled over the comms. 

“Star Lark, this is Captain Garr of the Black Fang. You’ve got two choices: surrender your cargo… or prepare to be boarded. And I’d suggest you choose fast.” 

Finn’s stomach dropped. The Black Fang was notorious. His dad had warned him about Garr and his crew of cutthroat pirates who terrorized this sector, raiding ships for anything valuable and sometimes leaving nothing behind but wreckage. 

He forced his hand to stay steady as he pressed the button to respond. “Uh, this is Captain Finn of the Star Lark… I, um, I hear you, loud and clear.” 

Captain Garr laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed over the comms. “Captain, are you? And how old are you, kid? Fourteen? Maybe fifteen? Let me guess—Dad let you take his little cargo ship out for a spin, didn’t he?” 

Finn felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. “Doesn’t matter how old I am. If you try anything, I’ll—I'll… defend my ship.” 

Garr laughed again, long and hard. “Adorable. Look, kid, just open the cargo bay doors and give us the goods. Trust me, this’ll go a lot easier for you if you cooperate.” 

Finn muted the comms, taking a deep, shaky breath. His dad’s voice echoed in his mind: “Never show fear, even in the dark.” Well, this was about as dark as it got. He had no weapons, no shields that could withstand a hit from a pirate ship, and no backup. But maybe, just maybe, he had something else. 

His eyes darted over the ship’s controls, landing on the button for the magnetic clamps on the exterior cargo containers. He could release the crates into open space, but that wouldn’t stop the pirates for long. No, if he was going to get out of this, he needed a plan. And fast. 

He pressed the comm button again, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Fine, Captain Garr. I’ll give you the cargo. Just, uh… give me a sec to disengage the bay doors.” 

The pirate’s voice crackled back, smug and confident. “Smart move, kid. See, you’re learning already.” 

Finn gritted his teeth and forced a smile, even though no one could see it. He worked the controls, making a show of fiddling with switches and buttons, all while keeping an eye on the pirate ship through the viewport. It was sleek, painted matte black with a skull insignia on the hull, guns bristling on either side. There was no way he could outrun it, but maybe he didn’t have to. 

He pulled up the ship’s schematics, studying the placement of the external cargo containers. He’d packed the largest one himself, filling it with construction materials—metal beams, sealant, and oxygen tanks for the Titan colonies. And there was something else. Something his dad had stashed for emergencies. 

Explosives. 

It was risky, but he didn’t have a choice. Finn took a deep breath, fingers hovering over the detonation controls. He glanced out the viewport, where the pirate ship had crept up close, preparing to dock with the cargo bay. 

“Alright,” he said into the comms, his voice steady now. “Cargo’s ready. Just latch on, and it’s all yours.” 

The Black Fang sidled even closer, its docking clamps extending like the talons of some monstrous bird of prey. Finn held his breath, waiting for the clamps to make contact with the cargo crate. He counted silently in his head—one… two… three… 

The pirate ship’s clamps locked onto the crate with a dull thunk. That was his cue. 

Without another thought, Finn hit the button to release the crate and simultaneously triggered the explosives. 

There was a split second of silence, and then the crate exploded in a flash of blinding white light. The shockwave rocked the Star Lark, throwing Finn against his seat as alarms blared throughout the cockpit. He gripped the controls, struggling to stabilize the ship as debris flew past the viewport. 

When the dust settled, he squinted out into the darkness. The Black Fang was still there, but it was listing to one side, its hull scarred and smoking. One of its engines had been blown clean off, leaving it spinning helplessly. 

The comm crackled to life again, and Captain Garr’s voice, now weak and furious, spat through the speakers. “You… little… brat. You think this is over? I’ll find you. I’ll make you pay.” 

Finn grinned, all the fear replaced with a surge of wild exhilaration. “Sure thing, Captain. But next time, maybe don’t underestimate a ‘kid.’” 

He cut the comms, set the Star Lark’s course for Titan, and watched as the pirate ship shrank in the rearview. The thrill of survival pulsed through him, his fingers no longer trembling as he guided the ship through the stars. 

As he slipped back into open space, a message notification blinked on his control panel. It was from his dad. 

“How’s the trip so far, kid? Hope you’re getting some good stories.” 

Finn chuckled, typing back, “Yeah, you could say that. I think I’ll have one or two to share when I get back.”