The surface of the ocean was a graveyard of iron splinters and burning oil. The Soaring Dragon Royal Navy moved with precision, their White-Raptor interceptors circling the debris like sharks ensuring no survivors escaped the net.
A young lieutenant stepped onto the bridge of the White-Rhino, clicking his heels as he saluted Commander Malphas. "Sir, the pirate fleet has been neutralized. Total extermination confirmed."
"And Iron Hand?" Malphas asked, not looking away from the horizon.
"We couldn't take him alive, sir." Two marines entered, dragging a heavy, limp body between them. They dropped it onto the deck with a wet thud.
The pirate captain was a grotesque sight. His skin had turned a sickly shade of violet, and dark foam bubbled at the corners of his mouth. "He swallowed a 'crimson-Gulp' poison capsule the moment our boarding party breached his quarters," the lieutenant explained. "He chose a quick death over your interrogation, Commander."
