This is just a fun little story of mine. (Yes it is a little self serving) (Yes it is kinda tied into Warhammer 40k)

Pirate Memory Game
By Alex Holmes

Alex sprinted along the length of the space hulk, firing over his shoulder. He ducked as lasers flew over his head. He rolled, and then sprung up. He turned in mid jump to fire both his hand-made pistols. Then his multi-barrelled pistols let loss a volley of lasers. His pursuers fell. Alex turned back, and continued sprinting towards where his ship was docked. He skidded past the corridor that led to the docking bay in which his ship was held, sprinted back towards the corridor, and strode down it. As he neared the airlock that his ship was attached to, Alex saw a sinister figure. It was the captain of the corporate ship. Alex drew his rapier, as the opposing captain did. Jumping, weaving, leaping, dodging, all across the rubble they filled the corridors of the corporate cargo ship, as they danced the dance of death. Alex moved to and fro, his long black coat touching the ground, then hurled into the air by his lithe movements only moments later. Alex’s old navy style hat had ducked many a sword blow, and his buckled shoes nimbly leapt of over the strewn rubble. His waist coat flicked gold in the light of the corridors, and his black leather pants reflected the swish of his rapier. Sensing the captain tiring Alex took his moment. He quickly slashed his rapier across the captain’s throat, and he fell to the ground. Alex leapt over the captains gasping body, and ran into his ship the Black Raven. He leapt into the pilot’s seat with a familiar ease, and punched the control panel. The Black Raven pulled away from the massive cargo ship, and moved away at top speed. Only moments later the cargo hulk exploded from the charges that Alex had set. That’s one less shipment of food to the aristocrats of Earth, thought Alex, and smiled as he thought of all the food in his cargo-hold. Some poor people were going to eat heartily from this lot.

Alex sat back in the pilot’s seat of the Black Raven, or Raven for short. Alex had removed his coat, hat and belt, and all of these hung on their rightful hooks. He spoke to the computer.
“Computer, Initiate Protocol 47.”
“Initiating Protocol 47, sir” droned the computer.
A few moments later a glass of the finest rum slid out of the control panel. Alex took an elegant sip, allowing the flavoursome liquid to slide down his throat. He leaned back in his customised leather pilot’s chair, and surveyed space through the large window that covered almost the entirety of the large ****pit. This is the life, he thought to himself, and patted the control panel of the Raven lovingly. Then, through the peace, quiet, and satisfaction of a job well-done, an alarm noise shattered. “Alert, Alert, Inquisitorial vessel approaching, Vector class,” droned the bored computer. Spinning his chair around, Alex leapt up, and quickly put on his jacket, belt, and jammed his hat on his head. He knew that if the Inquisition ever got hold of him they would make death seem like a bitter mercy. He moved his fingers across the control panel as if playing a piano. The Raven shuddered as it began to move away from the Inquisitorial flagship, then, as if the excitement of a chase had awoken the ship’s sleeping spirit, the Raven quickened, and began to move faster. Alex spun the Raven around to see the sheer enormity of the Inquisitorial flagship. It was far away, far enough for Alex to outrun it, but he could see tiny specks emerging from it. The Inquisition had the arrogance to launch fighters at him! Loading all torpedos, and making sure the lasers were charged, Alex prepared to do what he did best: fight. With a scream the Raven took off towards the approaching Inquisition fighters. They launched a volley of torpedos at him, but he dodged them all. Or so he thought. As he was congratulating himself on his skill a torpedo clipped his wing. The Raven was sent spinning into space. Alex was slammed against the control panel, making him unconscious. The Raven spun around in dead space, helpless to rouse its master. The triumphant Inquisition fighters surrounded the Raven all weapons systems powered and ready to fire. Alex came to, to find his ship surrounded by Inquisitorial fighters. He grinned to himself. “We can’t have this can we?” he laughed. Hitting the control panel the Raven roared into life. With a volley of torpedos the Raven destroyed three fighters. Alex then pushed it into a deadly ballet, spinning and weaving. His lasers were death unto his foes, and he could not be touched. It seemed he was invincible. But then, he lost control of his ship. He was caught in a tractor beam! Unbeknownst to him the mother ship of the Inquisitorial fighters had snuck up on him. And now he was being dragged towards the vast underbelly of it. Then everything went black.

Alex woke to find himself strapped to a steel table. A sinister inquisitor stood over him, surrounded by all types of infernal devices. His belt, cloak and hat hung on a crude rack in the corner.
“Filth.” Spoke the Inquisitor softly.
“Bastard!” yelled Alex, and almost immediately he felt a stinging sensation whip across his face. The Inquisitor smiled with a look of pure malice. “I think you need to learn how to speak to me better. Otherwise you’ll be scarred elsewhere,” said the Inquisitor, gesturing at the long scar that crossed Alex’s once hansom face. “We shall have to teach you a lesson.” Then Inquisitor took out one of the many infernal machines that Alex only recognised as devices of torture. He felt an excruciating pain in his body for what seemed like forever, and then they allowed him to pass out.

Alex woke again inside a cell. They had obviously grown tired of torturing him, and had locked him away for a while. Alex knew he had to get out, get free. ‘But how?’ he wondered to himself. A guard walked past, and Alex motioned to him. When the guard was close enough Alex smashed his head into the cell bars. He then took the guard’s keys, and let himself out of the cell. He smiled to himself. He still had it. With a quick start Alex sprinted of to get his personal effects.

Like a snake, Alex slid along the corridors of the Inquisitorial vessel, hugging the shadows. At last he found the room which his possessions were in. He put them on, feeling in command of the situation once more. As he ritually jammed his hat down on his head, he grinned.
“Let’s go, Alex,” he said under his breath, and jumped out of the room, to find an Inquisitor. A quick slash of his rapier made sure that the Inquisitor did not yell for help. Alex ran along the corridors and halls of the ship, his black cloak billowing out behind him. As he ran he searched for the docking bay in which his beloved Raven was being held. Then there it was. The Raven sat there, glistening in docking lights. Alex ran softly towards his ship, but with a click the area was flooded with lights. All around him Inquisitors and Inquisitorial troopers levelled guns, and pistols. It seemed that, at last, the game was up. But out of his fear Alex felt a courage, a fire growing, one so strong that he had never known before. As the Inquisitorial minions advanced, Alex took a deep bow. The click of weapons sounded. Alex raised his proud, scarred head and looked into the eyes of his executioners.
“Bastards!” he spat. As if in slow-motion the guns were raised. Aim was taken, and then… Then an explosion shook the whole vessel. Alex glanced outside to see his long-time friend Sid Vicious’ ship the Iron Maiden outside. As torpedos shook the ship Alex leapt in to the Raven. A few flicks and the Raven was out of the docking bay. As Alex spun the Raven around to add to the volleys of laser and torpedo fire that washed across the Inquisitorial, he saw it begin to break up. A series of explosions ran along the ship, and then in one blinding flash it was gone, annihilated with everyone on board.

Alex sighed as he leaned back into his leather chair. He thanked Sid for the rescue and teleported him a bottle of the finest rum, as a show gratitude. Alex was surprised that the Inquisition had not removed the food from his cargo bay, but what did they know? All he had to do now was deliver the food to the poor world of Vagor IV, and then go and search for a corporate cargo vessel, ready to go through the whole cycle again. But that was for later. Alex closed has eyes and drifted off to sleep in the comfort of his leather chair. The Raven glided gracefully off into space, carrying with it Alex the Space Pirate, ready to do what he needed to keep the hopes of those in poverty alive.