Space. So vast. So dangerous. A place where you could just as easily get raided as you were to get rescued. It was a place for outlaws, a place for heroes. A place for guys like Thomas Miller. He loved the endless black. The infinite sea of stars that constantly filled his viewscreen. He loved that he could go anywhere at any time with a simple adjustment to his coordinates and a press of a button. For this truly was the final frontier, and up here there were no limits.
He was shaken (literary) back into reality when his ship was struck with a burst of plasma. He looked at his radar and saw three bright red dots approaching him, fast. Another burst struck his ship, shaking it violently, as he reached out for the joystick. With years of piloting under his belt, he pulled a deft maneuver that allowed him to dodge, just barely, the last few plasma bolts that would’ve ended his life.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “You boys wanna play, huh? Let’s play!”
He swerved the old rust bucket around so that his forward cannons were facing his assailants. They were in even older ships. Old Mk.II Hunter Fighter ships, and by what Thomas could see, they were practically falling apart. A small breath would be enough to crumble these ships!
“Oh-ho-ho man!” he smiled, “This is waaay to easy!”
He pulled the trigger on the joystick, felt the slight thump of the cannons firing, and watched four bright blue plasma bolts zoom ahead. The first two fighters were quick to react and swerved their ships out of harm’s way. The third obviously needing brushing up with his pilot skills. His ship exploded in a ball of flame that left only a few pieces of the engines and the nose behind.
The two remaining fighters were quick to respond with their own burst of plasma fire, nearly catching Thomas off guard. He bobbed and weaved and fired another few bolts at the attackers. This time, only one bolt made it to its target, but that was all that was needed. The one bolt struck directly where the cockpit was. It was engulfed in flame and Thomas watched as it continued on its flight path, going in that one direction forever, or at least until it hits something.
“One left,” he said and looked back just in time to see the other fighter turn around.
“Oh no you don’t!” he exclaimed, priming his Bullseye  missiles.
He waited for what seemed like an eternity for the lock-on. In the mean time, the enemy fighter’s engines were starting to glow a bright blue. It was going to jump but not if Thomas could prevent it.
Just mere seconds before it could zap away to safety, the missiles locked on and Thomas pressed the fire button. The two missiles zoomed out, looking like a pair fireflies as they eagerly chased down their intended target.  The other pilot must’ve noticed because he tried popping flares to attract their attention. One was fooled and flew hungrily at the flares. The other however saw past the ruse and plummeted into the hull of the ship, destroying it.
Thomas watched in satisfaction as the last of the bandits were destroyed. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. But that was what Thomas loved about the final frontier. You never knew what you would run into. You could guess, sure, but you can never be certain. Because this was the endless black. Because out here, there are no limits.