A blurry smudge in the clouded sky swelled by the second, and soon the roars of its thrusters broke the waves near the island. By size, the glossy and the glistening chrome beast rivaled Stormfalcon, a Class-M Warship, and by design, it surpassed this centuries old product.
“It’s not the only one,” Lance said. “There’s more on the water, they should be class-s though.”
“It’s not a hub in name only,” Stefan said, lining his ears with the screen. “We should be able to get everything we need here.”
“Are you trying to see the screen with your ears…,” Kidd said.
“I thought it would work…,” Stefan said, his voice dimming as he shrank in his seat.
“Wait for your Ryvia, or whatever its name is for the Whispered,” Ewan said.
“Incoming call from Ms. Havanna,” Nyte said as the soft chime of the call rang on the screen.
“Tell her to come to the bridge,” Ewan said. “Why’s she even calling, just ask Nyte,” he mumbled.
“You have the permission to dock.” The communication channel opened again, and the man’s voice came over the static noise. “Please keep your thrusters to the minimum and follow the marker to port D-4, station no.63. You may maintain your defensive shield, but please refrain from any violent fluctuations. Please refrain from deboarding before reaching the station. And please be mindful of your actions as any form of aggression will be deemed a threat. Welcome to the citadel, your occupation of the station will be free of charge for the first month, we hope you have a pleasant stay in the enclave.”
The water before the warship fizzled, and a deep algae-colored wisp of light floated up, leaving a faint trail for the Stormfalcon to follow as it headed for the destination. As they inched closer, the curve of the island straightened, the massive foliage hid the horizon, and the streams from the ocean converged into the enclosed ports, all marked ‘D’ in this area—Stormfalcon followed the light wisp into the fourth passage.
“That warship isn’t coming into these ports,” Lance said.
“Privilege of having a known affiliation most likely,” Kidd said.
The hissing thrusters from the incoming warships echoed together in the tunnel, almost drowning the garbled hubbub of the workers busying on the side, as Stormfalcon made its way to its designated station, the Class-S sailing in its path making way. Towering cranes hauled the enormous parts around, its chains clanging upon impact, the sizzling repairs, sparking wires, and the creaking joints muddling with the echoes.
“At least we aren’t alone with the class-m,” Ewan said, looking at other warships parked along the way. “Nyte, kill the thrusters after aligning with the station, idle with minimum power consumption, and maintain the defense shield. And send Nana to the deck, tell her we’ll be there. Let’s go.”
…
…
…
The strip of muffled glow on the board down at the station reached the rightmost midnight shade of blue, the Rigen stock was only short of a brimful. As long as the price hadn’t fluctuated too far, Ewan could afford to sate Stormfalcon’s needs here.
“Did we arrive already?” Nana came out to the deck and asked, rubbing her yawning eyes. “I was in the mechanics hall, then woke up in our room.” She plopped her head on Ewan’s shoulder and rested her body on him, her breaths easing into a drowsy rhythm as she almost slept on her feet.
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“I had to lug you up there,” Ewan said, easing his shoulder and posture to make it comfortable for her. “You’re heavy, so I just dragged you by your foot.”
She groaned, and took a bite of his shoulders, but gave up without making a dent. “I don’t have any strength right now, I’ll bite you later,” she said.
“Go back to bed then, you can tour the place later,” Ewan said, combing her disheveled hair, his fingers gliding through the knotless tresses.
The Stormfalcon parked along the station, firing its side thrusters to parallelize with the quay, and the light wisp faded away when its task ended.
“Hello, please come get your i.ds,” a stubbled man in a black-yellow baggy uniform holding a clipboard hollered from the tiled dock, scratching his cheek.
“Kidd.” Ewan gestured with his head, and Kidd jumped down after a nod. “Lance, you can go down too if you want, just don’t wander off far. I’ll come down after I put her to bed. Stefan, you stay too.”
“No, I’m awake,” Nana mumbled, raising her head. “I’ll come with.” And she widened her bloodshot eyes, straightening up on her feet, though still wobbly.
“Fine.” Ewan sighed and hovered down with her in his arms, Lance taking a ride down on his Ryvia.
A five- to seven-year-old child, a boy most likely, trudged towards their station barefoot before they landed though, tattered rags passing off for his clothes, bruised and bleeding legs barely bracing his bony frame, and his mindless mutterings disconnected him from his surroundings. His bizarre arrival silenced the dock, the cranes halted, repairs took a pause, even the sparking torches fizzled out, and all eyes stared at the oddity. And when the gaping man with the clipboard snapped back to his senses, a deafening alarm blasted in the passage.
“63! 63!!” the man bellowed and backed off from the boy, taking out his boxy communicator from his storage pouch with trembling hands. “63!!” he yelled again when the communicator’s light blinked on.
Seconds hadn’t passed from his panic yet, and a group of men raced down the port, zipping past the stations, and tackled the boy to the ground, bagging his head and clamping his mouth. The child went down without a struggle, and when the men had him secured, a strange sigh of relief washed over station no.63.
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Status: Healthy
Step-1 Severynth [Spirit-Nebula: Zeroth Surge]
Subtype: Step-0 Elementalist
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 7.0
Spirit: 25.6
Anima: [Fire – 25.6 | Ice – 25.6 | Blood – 25.6 | Mystic: 25.6 | Dark: 25.6]
Astylinds: 5 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-1 Severynth [Spirit-Nebula: Zeroth Surge]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-B]
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Bloodthorn-Lotus [Iris]: Step-1 [Level-10] [Grade-D]
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Necros-Crow [Ghost]: Step-0 [Level-6] [Grade-D]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter]; Moonkeeper [Crystal-Ball]; Rainwarden [Staff]; Blackfeather [Overcoat].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Unknown Book [Radon’s Legacy]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 24,285
Anima Crystals: 14,220 grams