A Beginner’s Guide to Stealing Oghman Ships

Stealing a ship is, under normal circumstances, a deeply complicated process involving careful planning, precision timing, and an intimate understanding of interstellar security protocols.

Or, if you were the crew of the Morrigan, it involved chaos, violence, and a level of improvisation that suggested fate itself had given up trying to predict their actions.

The Plan (Such As It Was)

"Alright," Caitlin said, pushing herself off the wooden crate, "I think we can all agree that it is time to leave this frozen death-ball of a planet.”

"Agreed," said Quinn, already compiling an extensive list of all the ways this was about to go horribly wrong.

"Yes," nodded Morwen, who had, disturbingly, started to actually like the place.

"We should take a ship," Scarred-Snout rumbled, as if this was an entirely normal thing to suggest.

"You read my mind," Caitlin grinned wickedly. "Look, if we want to get off-world, we need a fast ship, one that isn't going to fall apart when we hit vacuum, and preferably one that's going to make every Oghman warband between here and the edge of the system think twice before following us."

There was a brief silence.

Then every single person turned to look at the Thrashing Oar Raider sitting on the docking platform nearby.

It was a masterpiece of Oghman engineering, in the sense that it had clearly been built by people who had an aesthetic vision but had never once heard of aerodynamics. It was angular, spiked, and covered in entirely unnecessary animal skulls, because if you weren't scaring the hell out of your enemies before you even fired a shot, what was the point?

"That one," said Scarred-Snout.

"Oh hell yes," said Caitlin, her eyes lighting up like a child who'd just discovered where the explosives were kept.

"You're serious?" Maltz asked, surprised by her enthusiasm.

"It's a fast, well-armed, terrifying death machine that fits exactly the kind of reputation we already have," Caitlin said, practically salivating at the prospect.

"It has horns on the front," Quinn pointed out. "Not sensors, not extra armor - actual, decorative, metal horns."

"Aesthetic intimidation is a valid tactical advantage," Caitlin replied, already mapping jump routes in her head. "And those horns? Perfect for ramming through anything in our way."

Morwen squinted at the ship's silhouette, her jaw dropping slightly. "Is that a spinal mount strapped to the hull?!"

"Relax, it's just a decoy," Maltz replied with the confidence of someone who'd survived enough bad ideas to recognize one. "Oghmans think looking insane is a tactical advantage."

"Either way, that handsome beast is our ticket out of here," Caitlin said with a predatory smile. "Let's go steal that beauty before someone else beats us to it."

The Execution (Which Was Nearly Flawless)

The plan was simple.

Step one: Sneak into the docking bay.

Step two: Overpower the guards.

Step three: Steal the ship.

Step four: Escape in a blaze of glory and never look back.

Step one went fine.

Step two lasted approximately six seconds before someone yelled, a klaxon went off, and a monofilament axe was thrown at Caitlin's head.

Step three became a deeply complex series of gunfire, emergency system overrides, and Scarred-Snout throwing people out of the cargo bay like they weighed nothing.

"Is there a reason Oghmans don't believe in seat-belts?!" Maltz shouted as he frantically tried to reroute power.

"They believe in dying with honor instead," Quinn responded, calmly configuring the ship's navigational system as alarms blared.

"Perfect," Caitlin laughed, ducking behind the airlock door to avoid weapons fire. "We've stolen a ship designed by warriors who know how to make an loud exit. My kind of people."

Outside, Oghman warriors were swarming toward the docking bay, raising their weapons and shouting things that probably translated to "Give us back our perfectly good murder ship, you offworld scum."

Inside, Scarred-Snout threw the last unfortunate crew member out the airlock. "We are clear," he rumbled.

"Excellent," Caitlin said, vaulting into the pilot's seat with unmistakable glee. "Starting launch sequence before they remember this beauty has an external kill switch."

"It has one of those?" Maltz asked, pale with terror.

"No idea, but I'm not willing to miss the chance to fly this gorgeous monster because we dawdled," she replied, running her hands lovingly over the controls.

The ship's thrusters roared to life, shaking violently as the engines protested their mistreatment.

The docking bay doors had not yet fully opened.

Caitlin made what she considered a brilliant decision. "Brace for ramming speed!" she announced with unholy delight.

"WHAT?!?"

With a sound that could only be described as 'metal meeting metal in a way that should not happen in a civilized galaxy', the Thrashing Oar Raider tore through the half-open docking bay doors, leaving a shower of sparks, debris, and at least one very surprised guard behind.

Alarms blared across the city. Searchlights stabbed enthusiastically at the night sky. Warbands scrambled to intercept.

"They're launching fighters," Quinn observed drily.

"Perfect," Caitlin grinned, yanking the controls with the enthusiasm of someone living their best life. "Maltz, give me more power. Morwen, make sure nothing explodes - unless we want it to. Scarred-Snout, shoot everything that moves. Quinn, do whatever terrifyingly efficient thing you do in these situations."

The ship rocketed toward the upper atmosphere, fighters in pursuit, gun turrets blazing, and every single Oghman on the planet very, very annoyed.

"So," Caitlin said as she executed a barrel roll to avoid a missile lock, "this has been the most fun I've had in months. Should have stolen an Oghman ship ages ago."

"We are not dead yet," Quinn acknowledged. "That is progress."

"We're not out of the system either," Maltz pointed out, wildly pressing buttons in an attempt to convince the ship to go faster.

"You lot worry too much," Morwen said casually, holding together an overheating power relay with the sheer force of willpower and duct tape.

Scarred-Snout, firing pulse lasers at pursuing ships, grinned. "This was a good plan."

Caitlin laughed, banked the ship hard, and made for deep space. "This was the best plan ever. If we live through this - which we absolutely will - I'm buying drinks for everyone. Nothing quite like earning your whiskey with a bit of grand theft starship."

And with that, the Morrigan crew barreled toward the stars, leaving behind a city in flames, a stolen warship, and an entire planet of very angry people who were now short one of their most intimidating vessels.

All in all, a fairly standard Tuesday.