Somewhere close to the Border of the Void

On a planet named K441…

A backwater planet close to the Border of the Void is not what one would expect to be inhabited and least of all call a tropical paradise but K441 is different. Despite the proximity to the breeding grounds of the most dangerous monsters space has to offer, K441 has seen plenty of different lifeforms. The most intelligent of those lifeforms, the so called K-People, are small scaled critters who once build the best interstellar racing ships. But since the Cetusian Empire has visited K441 multiple times the K-People reduced their space travel to their own solar-system while offering repairs and shelter for anyone asking nicely — or not so nice in the case of Aranian Velten, better known as Slicer.

—

Time ticks by at a slow pace. To slow for Slicer’s taste. He suspects that three or four Cetusian days must have passed since the Starblazer got blow to pieces. But he isn’t certain about it. On K441 one day is equal to slightly more than two Cetusian days. This dissonance and all the things preceding his arrival on K441 have not improved Slicers volatile mood.

He knows that anger is a bad advisor. Despite that, Slicer has fallen victim to his emotions more often than he wants to admit. He needs a low profile for now, which makes going around and killing a few K-People out of the questions. Still, the itch is still there and barely contained by his discipline. So, in order to mitigate his anger, he resorts to pacing and planing within the small apartment he rented under a pseudonym.

To retrieve the weapon is his top most priority. With it, he can’t be stopped, neither by the Imperial Fleet nor the Empress herself. But first he needs to find it, which in turn is the most difficult task he has to face yet.

It could be anywhere…, Slicer ponders while walking up and down in the small one-room apartment. Most likely it's still around the remains of the Starblazer. Floating around between debris… But what if it’s dead already? No. It most likely did survive. It was after all for the Void knows how long on this asteroid. And what if the Empress has already sent someone out to retrieve it?

There is only one branch of the Imperial Fleet capable to find and secure it: the Deep Space Fleet. Consisting only out of one ship of the Leviathan Class, it is by far the smallest Branch of the Fleet yet also the most capable. Only formed about a few Solar Circles into the current Empress‘ reign, it is the newest yet most diligent of the individual Fleets.

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Slicer still remembers clearly the day the Steward of the Deep Space Fleet was introduced along his crew. Next to Marconite Avarion, the First Steward of the Leviathan, Restimil Vadias had looked like an indifferent spectre. His perfect white hair in connection with his clouded eyes and light grey skin had just intensified the feeling of dread and unfathomable power he calls his own thanks to the pact with the Being of the Void he has made.

There has been a time when Pactkeepers were hunted down like the abominations they are. Slicer doesn‘t know any details of what is necessary to give oneself to a Being of the Void and he doesn‘t even want to know. Even though such pacts offer more power than he could think of, they’re also rumoured always take something. They're nothing more but slaves to creatures, that should be decimated, thinks Slicer and snarls. If the Empress has sent them to fetch the weapon, I'm done for. But that makes me wonder why she hasn't sent them in the first place. Sure they’ve more important things to do, but such trivialities have never caused the old hag to not do as she pleases. Damn her and those pact-freaks! And where is this waste of space called Lappor?

Fuming he stops his pacing and walks to the narrow wooden door. For a moment, he forgets that the doors on K441 are smaller than he is used to. With a loud thud his horns slam again the doorframe. Slicer gets on his knees groaning. The impact has caused the nerve and psychic tissue in his horns to send a lightning strike of pain into his head. That moment his Chief of Science walks up the small set of stairs and stops before him.

„Is everything alright, Sir?”, asks Lappor in his usual nasal tone.

„Does it look like everything's alright?”, shouts Slicer and grabs Lappor at the collar of his baggy shirt.

„I'm sorry“, he whines. „Didn't mean to anger you!”

As he speaks, a small group of K-People walk past the house Slicer has rented. The small scaly creatures stare at the two Menkar for a few moments with their huge multicoloured eyes before slow-blinking. One of them makes a strange whistle sound, and they move on. Slicer stares after them with pure murderous intent. Without looking back they leisurely walk away.

Without further ado, Slicer drags and pulls Lappor into the house and closes the door. Lappor makes himself smaller than he already is and pulls a few things out of his hyperspace-bracelets. In the meantime, Slicer sits down on the only chair in the house big enough to hold a full-grown Menkar.

„You've got everything?”, he asks as cold as a glacier.

„Yes, Sir”, Lappor mumbles. „I've managed to get some spare clothes and a few bullets for your gun. I also managed to repair my detector.”

„Very good”, he replies with a smirk. „That means the only thing left is to see if my Jäger‘s repaired, then we can finally leave this forsaken planet.”

Although Lappor nods, Slicer feels that his Chief of Science is not fully in on the mission. But what does it even matter?, he asks himself Once I've my hands on the weapon I'm going to test it on you, Lap.