CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Swirls of mahogany blindsided El as Neraka strode empathically toward the crowd of soldiers like a shepherd greeting their flock. El was stunned to witness the soldiers step aside, parted by the authoritative presence of the Pirate Lord. Adopting a kneeling stance, arms crossed and weapons lowered at their sides, their charade came to an end. Seeping through mask-covered faces, a chorus of incessant giggling. Children: The Naval officers were replaced by children. El shivering with unease. Scarcely older than Neraka's entourage but no less corrupted by their leader's foul influence. The full extent of the Pirate Lord's plan began to take shape, leaving El to ponder just how malignant the infection in Fort Terabus had become.
The infiltration unit pursued Neraka, and the prodding paws of the original band of delinquents prompted El to follow. She was grateful for her suit's protective embrace. The initial dose of airborne toxins caused a burning sensation that crawled down her spine, and any further exposure would risk lasting damage. Though her prickling flesh was uncomfortable, it was not so painful as to impair her faculties for the inevitable next break.
Ironic that the skills that had saved her life were the only reason she was even here. After all, it was what had caught Ranna's eye all those years ago. More than capable of piloting the Horizon himself and no stranger to fixing a burst pipe or fried circuit board, his needs were all but met. With Tugg epitomizing the role of a strong-armed subordinate and desperate to hunt under the Horizon banner, she would need to prove her worth. Breaking code, coupled with her endowment of inexplicable gifts, became her ticket onto the ship — the start of a path that would lead her into realms of peril beyond her understanding.
The bolstered ranks of Neraka's crew marched through the shifting halls toward what El assumed was central control. Spores showered the pirates, blossoming into verdant patches of moss that stained the regal white and gold common amongst Naval apparel. Imagining each uniform as a dead soldier focused El's attention on the viciousness of her current company. Although morals were notoriously lax where pirates were concerned, employing an army of children to perpetrate their heinous activities was a foul practice, even for them. Ruminating on the circumstances that brought them into this life weighed heavily on El. The drifter colonies were vast and numerous, and after the calamity, orphans comprised the bulk of their populace. Penniless and with nowhere to call home, she could see how the allure of freedom and riches would appeal to the lost youth. Compare that to the unwavering discipline and strict regiment the Navy presented, and even El had to concede the choice would be difficult.
The procession halted before a tall arched door, constructed with countless layers of folded steel and bolted with a dozen magnetic latches. Neraka peered over her shoulder at El, her gaze a command in itself. El sauntered through the crowd, hisses and prods hastening her pace. As she examined the door, a conundrum became immediately apparent. The cipher-containing hatches sat on either side of the door -- a two-person break. She looked up at Neraka, who, too, was busy contemplating the situation. Suddenly, one of her men stepped forward to volunteer.
"I will attempt the break, Lord Neraka," A young voice spoke through the ventilation of his protective hood. Although there was no masking the adolescence in his voice, he was surprisingly tall and broad in the shoulders. El looked at the boy with extreme skepticism, but as pickings were slim, she would need to work with what was available.
"We must connect," El explained, unfurling the Nanofibre from her fingers and reaching out to remove his glove. "The spores will burn your skin, but I can offer only a small window of protection. We must act quickly."
After both parties had removed their respective hatch, they bathed in the radiance of the spheres. El extended her arm and locked fingers with the boy, their other hand resting delicately over the target. With eyes closed and inhaling deeply, she established the bond.
Upon exhaling, a wave of energy passed between the two bodies. The boy's arm shuddered. His body temperature increased, and his heartbeat slowed to a comforting rhythm. With each mimicked inhalation, their breathing synchronized. El tested the strength of the union by moving her index finger in a small circle. The motion was mirrored on the boy's hand, already starting to redden and wither from the atmospheric toxins. Without even a whisper, they dropped their palms down and initiated the break.
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In regards to the Vrell, information gathered by the Galactic government can, if one were generous, be classified as incomplete. Access to Sporetine had always been scarce. Vrell elders oversaw all requests and limited visitation rights during even the most peaceful of eras. The Vrell possessed the curious habit of vanishing in response to even the meekest of threats. So much so that Sporetine had seemed virtually uninhabited when the Navy first arrived. After several peace offerings, the Admirals were granted a rare glance into Vrell culture. During this period of unprecedented insight, the Vrell revealed their capacity for connection with other lifeforms. Although a vastly unexplored phenomenon, the potential for exploitation was readily apparent. Prompt efforts were undertaken to exploit their newest ally, enticing the more willing Vrell into their ranks with the allure of galactic exploration. With off-world excursions being an impossibility prior to Naval intervention, many Vrell were quick to accept the offer. Those unfortunate volunteers were hastily shipped off to research facilities to begin their 'induction.' Little was learned from preliminary experiments, requiring the Navy to recruit ever-increasing numbers of participants. Few Vrell ever returned to Sporetine, most never heard from again. This peculiarity fostered suspicion amongst the elders, and after less than a decade of Naval partnership, their world was once again cut off, their mysterious abilities confined to hearsay and speculation to this very day.
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Neraka and her crew scrutinized the proceedings with a cautious curiosity. The synchronous movement of El and her link was enchanting to observe. A ballet of nimble fingers broke through layer after layer of encryption, the concentric rings drained of their radiance in rapid succession. After only thirty seconds, the latches sighed a breath of boiling steam and withdrew to reveal the technical splendor of central control.
A sea of hooded workers twisted to examine the intrusion. Around two dozen technicians manned the pristine consoles that spiraled out around the multi-layered cylindrical room. El felt the cold steel of a plasma rifle touch tight against her temple.
"She's going to betray us, Lord Neraka. I don't know how, but I felt it. I felt her thoughts," the boy said proudly, preemptively uncovering their captive's malicious plot. A plasma round clicked in the chamber, and the chime of murderous intent shuddered through El's body.
"Please, Lord Neraka, allow me to…" Silence fell as the barrel slid away from El's face. The gun bounced on the ground with a metallic clatter and was followed shortly by the thud of its owner's body, a dart piercing his neck. He flailed on the ground, urgently gasping for air as his throat filled with blood. Neraka lowered her arm and crouched by his side, savoring the life as it faded from his twitching limbs.
"If she were not, she would be a fool." She whispered as she watched him slip away. Any attempt at autonomy would be met with a swift end, no matter the motivation.
Staring down at the lifeless form, El felt as if a part of herself had disappeared. Once bonded with another, a connection emerged that could only be severed through death. The cold tide of loss washed through her as the cackling crowd of masked children strode into the command room and opened fire.
The technicians attempted to flee, but with Neraka blocking the only exit, they were already dead. She watched expressionlessly as the slaughter played out, only raising her hand to cease the onslaught when one man remained. Surrounded by the bodies of his colleagues and friends, the lone technician cowered behind his workstation with his head buried into his knees. Neraka approached slowly. The echo of her heels slapping against the blood-soaked ground rang hauntingly throughout the vast space. Towering above her prey, she ran her clawed gloves over his shoulder and made a simple request.
"Disable the orbital defense or join them." Motioning to the carpet of bodies that littered the ground. The technician stared up through the reflective surface of his hood's visor, his swollen eyes captured by the true indifference of her frigid stare. He knew there were no options: no reasoning or pleading. Though she never muttered more than a handful of scorn-laced words, every command urged unwavering obedience. Squirming to his feet, he attempted to wipe the blood from his visor before pivoting toward the console. He began to type. After a few seconds, a set of red dials appeared from the desk. One by one, they were twisted clockwise, a confirmatory click sounding as they locked into place. The swift slam of the entrance doors, coupled with the sound of sliding latches, startled the pirates.
Neraka turned to the technician with a disappointed look on her face. She expected nothing but the worst from others, and the man's defiant actions were of little surprise. Even in the face of death, he managed to summon a victorious smile despite the uncontrollable trembling of his limbs. Neraka raised her arm, placing it gently on his head and piercing both his suit and skin with a needle-tipped claw. Stepping back, she motioned to El to join her in front of the console. The technician pawed at his lips as white bile oozed from his mouth. El observed his terror as the hideous nature of his predicament became apparent. The bile was formed from what moments ago had been his teeth. He attempted to call out for help but could only manage a stifled moan as his jaw sagged to one side. The entire right side of his body melted like wax, folds of loose skin pooling at his feet. El stood horrified as the technician simmered down to a frothing mound of skin and hair. She had never witnessed a pathogen attack only the body's calcium supply, unable to discern if the sack of organs that wriggled at her feet was alive or dead.
Snickering broke through the silence. Observing a human have their bones liquefied had been most entertaining for the children, each clamoring for a look in at the aftermath.
Neraka was unperturbed by the technician's unforeseen actions; they were exactly where they needed to be.
"Find it," said Neraka, ascending the ramp and commanding her minions to forage for an ulterior exit.
Having only a vague idea of what exactly 'it' was and no real clue how to find it, she stared in bewilderment at the console.
After numerous failed attempts at cracking into the system, an unending list of numbered vaults flashed onto the screen. El found herself confronted with the Terabus archive - a vast database of every item, both current and historical, stored at the facility. Along with the names and descriptions was a volatility rating ranging from one to five. Five signifying objects that the staff was not only forbidden to interact with but prohibited from even opening the containing vault. Thousands of entries were listed, with vault numbers ascending into the hundreds. Based on her brief excursion and experience in a vault, El approximated the facility extended more than five miles below the surface.
Activating the holo-projector, she examined a detailed three-dimensional model of the facility. The seemingly random rotation of the vaults was controlled by antenna rods that ascended far above ground level, receiving signals from the orbital control. It became evident that disabling the rotation from the surface was impossible. Even if she were somehow able to locate it, Atlazar would be long gone by the time they arrived. Catching Neraka's expectant gaze from the platform above, she promptly escalated her efforts.
An hour passed, and El had only managed to check through a fraction of the listings. She perceived the beginnings of impatience stirring in Neraka's brow. Assessing the listings manually would take days, and due to the pirate's limited oxygen supply, it wasn't news El was inclined to deliver. Buried deep in the wall of flickering green text was her target, hidden amongst countless treasures from every corner of the galaxy, riches beyond imagining, each secured in an impenetrable, ever-moving tomb of steel.
Where do you hide something you never want to be found?
Something clicked. El narrowed her search to isolate any unoccupied vaults, remembering that even the so-called toxic materials she arrived in were in a vault crammed full of other objects. No results. It wasn't going to be that obvious. Using a string of algorithms to find structural anomalies in the code, she discovered one missing vault: Vault 905. Despite being the sole promising lead, it was still a risk. Upon finding an actual empty vault, Neraka would conclude El's usefulness expired, subjecting her to whatever manner of hideous death she saw appropriate. With Neraka's patience already wearing thin, it was a risk that, if nothing else, would buy her the time she needed.
