CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The taste of blood was new for Soran. Milky strands of metallic crimson careened down his chin, pooling in an abstract blob around his bruised face. One of his eyes hadn't yet swollen shut, giving him the pleasure of seeing Kaligan's oversized boot pressed down on Ranna's chest, stealing each attempted breath with a firm push. Tugg was unconscious. The copious river of blood in which he slept threatened to sweep him away. Ranna's yelps prompted a pained wince from El. She was unharmed and currently playing the reluctant role of pilot aboard Teege's ship. Not because Kaligan had taken pity on her or even that he was above inflicting violence on females, but because she had been selected for a mission. They had all, in fact, been burdened with new purpose.
Soran's lack of involvement in Kaligan's earlier beheading meant he got off lightly. Lightly, that is, compared to Tugg and Ranna, who had passed death's doorstep and had one foot planted firmly into the reaper's domain.
Although Kaligan had forgone introductions in favor of savagery, it was obvious that the Cybel were involved in returning him to his former glory— pristine, recently conditioned Nanoalloy coated every inch of an exoskeleton built for war. Kaligan had gained at least half a foot in height, and as for his weight, Ranna was currently experiencing the rib splintering pressure firsthand.
The unbearable crunch of bone subsided when Kaligan decided that continuing his revenge would likely hinder his future endeavors. With a firm kick, he launched Ranna through the air. The Captain's body crashed into the rear exit ramp, falling motionless on impact. Soran shut his eyes and hoped their ordeal was over as Kaligan whistled his way to the cockpit.
"How goes the progress on our journey my dear?" He asked casually through a bloodstained grin.
El could smell the coppery stench of her companions only inches from her face. For their sake, she took a deep breath and answered calmly.
"We will arrive at Fort Terabus shortly, Lord Kaligan." Addressing him this way was only possible when leaked through gritted teeth.
"Oh, how exciting. Our mission is of the utmost importance. Do you have an inkling why we happen to be making this special voyage?" This was all part of some barbarous orchestra to Kaligan, and he was its conductor. El shook her head in ignorance. Of course, she knew of Terabus and its limitless treasures, but the object of Kaligan's eye could be any of them.
"Atlazar," He whispered.
Despite being the first time El had heard the words since childhood, her body tensed. What little incandescence her skin had retained was reduced to a pale flicker, her hair slowing to a timid quake. One glance into the pirate's eyes was all it took. The expression was that of childlike wonder, proving his sincerity and undeniable madness.
The Vrell were no different from the space-dwelling colonies regarding myths and legends. Tales of the Pirate King were particularly potent.
Due to the centuries-long lifespan of her people, many of El's family were alive during the Penumbra Onslaught and did not require belief in the man named Talas. They were there. Without the aid of Vrell ships and soldiers, the tides of war may have flowed the other way, a deed for which they are seldom praised. Although a small detail in the story, the Atlazar was a key component of what made the Pirate King such a terrifying advisory. The vast tome hung from his waist by colossal chains strapped to his body, rattling menacingly with every step he took. Untold numbers of souls were said to reside in its endless pages, trapped after pledging their lives to Talas from now until Elyssia come. The promise of this glorious afterlife drew unquestioning devotion from his hoards of disciples. El had never paid much attention to a dusty old book, not when the tales abounded with fantastical accounts of cosmic warfare. Not to mention the endless treasures that filled the Pirate King's legendary galleon; these were the details that captured the imagination of young minds. However, hearing Atlazar spoken aloud and with such conviction gave it weight. No longer a prop in a story but a physical object, an object she was tasked to retrieve. El hoped the stories were just that, stories.
After a torturous span of days combing through a meteor-littered expanse of particularly treacherous space, Terabus was finally identified by the long-range scans, blinking to life on the sunken Holo-screen of the pilot's dashboard. Its silhouette was blurred by a surrounding olive haze, as though its atmosphere were leaking into the emptiness. Gasses produced by jungle vegetation engulfed the entire world, making it utterly uninhabitable to all sentient life. All that is, except the Vrell. They were uniquely immune to the planet's many toxins, giving plausible rationality to Kaligan's uncharacteristic mercy. How he had stumbled upon this surprising invulnerability remained unknown, but their mission was doubtful some spur-of-the-moment excursion — clearly an act in a larger scheme, a scheme that Kaligan was adamant about bringing to fruition.
Floating into hailing distance, the comm systems of Teege's ship lit up. Terabus was orbited by three upper-atmosphere defense stations, each controlled by a central tower on the planet's surface. Normally, arriving in anything other than a registered vessel would see the crew incinerated. However, Teege's ship was well known to security, the Sect henchmen having commandeered a sizable quantity of the goods stored in the facility.
Kaligan motioned El to accept the call. He was confident of her unwillingness to sacrifice her life and crew, even if such a surrender would result in his undoing. He kept one hand on her shoulder, a deterrent in the event she was feeling brave.
"Welcome back, Mr.Teege." A husky voice rumbled through the comms with an air of familiarity. The pressure was on.
Waiting too long to respond would arouse suspicion, a fact Kaligan knew all too well. He tightened his grip to prompt action.
"Mr.Teege is resting in his quarters…" She hesitated, quickly scanning the dash for something she could use. After fumbling through various inventory logs, she clocked the login credentials used by the original pilot.
"This is Ensign Henia, requesting a surface drop of potentially toxic cargo, Sir." She held her breath and waited for a response. The radio silence endured. Seconds passed in harmony with the blinking light of the suspended call. El's panic intensified as she watched Kaligan's brows sink deep into the bridge of his nose, his temper becoming volatile. The transmission light stabilized. El sighed with relief, and Kaligan mercifully loosened his grip.
"Tell Teege that Captain Tanda called him an ass-hole. The entire planet wants to kill us, and you deliver a fresh batch of poison." He scoffed, and a chorus of chuckles could be heard in the background.
"Bring it down on the east wing. Our guys are waiting for the transfer. And don't forget to suit up. We've had three couriers shrivel to dust already this month. We've almost hit our 'workplace accident' quota. Be safe, Henia." A static tone sounded as he hung up, and El began her cautious descent into the sea of gaseous decay.
Kaligan hit the autopilot. He swept El from her seat by the hair and dragged her back into the cargo hold, past the motionless bodies of her crew. She sensed Soran was still alive, injured but not critical. Tugg was barely hanging on, tethered to his life by a thread. Restraint had not been employed during the Pirate Lord's revenge, his perverse sense of justice both lingering and plentiful. El knew her rightful place was amongst the battered remnants of her crew, but the gratitude of remaining unharmed overshadowed her sense of duty. Kaligan hoisted her body into the air, dangling her over a set of open barrels.
"Your part is at hand. Your gift to remain unseen will be my tool. Locate the central control and neutralize the defenses. Once the Atlazar is in your possession, you will activate this beacon, and my men will retrieve you. Should you survive this ordeal, I may consider extending an offer your way. Understood?" Kaligan spoke as if explaining a simple task to a child while being fully aware that Terabus's level of security was second only to that of Golgotha. He placed the locator beacon into her trembling hands, unfazed by the pain he inflicted during his lengthy diatribe. El nodded, her body quivering with discomfort. The roots of her hair were stretched so thin they could be plucked from her head using only the slightest force. Kaligan unfurled his fingers, dropping her into the barrel and sealing the lid shut.
Left in darkness with only a faux tap to provide oxygen, she wrapped her arms around her knees and allowed the naive fragments of her mind to take over. They whispered false comforts that the time spent in her new prison would be short, and soon enough, she would be welcomed back into the light.