CHAPTER SEVEN
Soran harbored a particular disdain for the distinct odor of Vanta cigars. His mentor was a heavy smoker, and Blastons was the only brand he would smoke. From the inception of his apprenticeship, Soran would observe all the tricks Lanic had pioneered over his distinguished career; Returning to his bunk each evening stinking of fumes and brimming with knowledge. Other kids were eager to mention it whenever he passed, but he didn't mind. Each second spent with his mentor was worth every smoke-stack comment thrown his way. Even now, the pungent aroma lay heavy on his skin and clothing. The fragrance thick and earthy like fresh forest dirt. It was unmistakable and brought a smile to the boy's face as he remembered the good times, just sitting and watching.
Soran's eyes flickered open, assaulted by a flood of sharp light from two overhead lamps. He coughed, inhaling a lung full of smoke from the foggy maelstrom surrounding him. His vision gradually cleared, revealing a shrouded man slumped back in a battered chair. He sucked a thick plume of smoke from the unmistakable hexagonal shaft of a Vanta Cigar.
"Lanic?" the boy murmured. He attempted to reach out only to make an unfortunate discovery. Bound by the wrists and ankles, the restraints pinching at his skin.
"Afraid you're quite mistaken." Replied the man. He spoke in a gruff tone that the boy vaguely recognized.
Craning forward, a grizzled face breached the veil of shadow. Light reflected off of the smooth surface of his shaven head, accentuating the deep lacerations that spanned the circumference of his skull. Of an advanced vintage, the man's beard was peppered with strands of white and segmented by three thick scars. They scored the left side of his crater speckled face like trails on a weathered map, running down his neck until obscured by the raised collar of a jacket that looked as old as him. Luminous flecks in the lenses of his jet black eyes glistened like the spiral arms of the galaxy and the boy found himself the unwilling victim to their hypnotic effect. He pulled back in apprehension.
"See anything you like?" the man growled.
"Where am I?" Soran asked in a cracked voice that betrayed his adolescence. Blurred strands of the event that had landed him here began to weave together. After a few moments, they had formed into a vaguely coherent picture. From the steady hum of an engine and odor of spent diesel, it was obvious he was inside a ship. She was a fairly spacious vessel but cramped with junk and long-abandoned maintenance projects. Cables hung from every wall and tools were strewn around exposed hatches. Before he could receive his answer his surroundings jolted, striking him with panic. He retreated in an awkward shuffle, cowering up against the paneled wall in the corner. His captor's raspy laugh startled him. The man approached Soran, extinguishing his expended cigar on the metal-plated sleeve of his jacket.
"You did Malig right?" He asked. An inquisitive eyebrow raise expressing the doubt his tone lacked.
"What?" Replied Soran. Divulging anything at this stage of interrogation was, at the very least, unwise. He couldn't risk his captors being pirates and admit to the act of unthinkable heresy that was felling a Lord.
"One Soran Valek of the Hyacinth just claimed the bounty on Ravias Malig. That's you, correct?" The man said in a slow drawl, enunciating each word with patronizing emphasis. Soran chose to omit the obvious lie in favor of a timorous nod, attempting to maintain the air of danger his newfound reputation awarded.
"I told you it was him El. When am I ever wrong?" He said, shouting over to the cockpit. The woman from before emerged from a circular hatch. As she approached, each coiled lock of her hair seemed to possess a will of its own, rippling in constant motion like ocean waves. She knelt to examine his worried face. He, however, was mesmerized by her nearly translucent skin, variegated islands oscillating over its surface. She glowed a pale blue, the hue matching that of her large piercing eyes. She smiled and poked him on the nose.
"We went to a lot of trouble coming to get you. Once we heard you took down mean old Malig, well, we knew we had to have you." Her soothing voice like silk compared to the gristle churned out by her colleague. She eyed the man expectantly, gesturing for him to speak.
"Sorry for the theatrics kid, I had to make sure you were our guy. I'm Ranna and this is El. The magnificent beast that you currently find yourself in is the one and only Horizon. She's not much, but she's ours." Ranna said proudly, his demeanor changing drastically. Despite the smile, he appeared no less intimidating; His previous hound-like grimace would leave a lasting impression on the boy.
"Tugg, come say hi" Ranna shouted through a bedraggled curtain that led off to a back room. They endured only a moment of silence before a boisterous thud shook the ship. It was followed by another, and another. Footsteps. Footsteps that belonged to something big. The smoke-stained drapes burst open. A giant arm reached out, grabbing at the steel plating. Trunk sized fingers pulled an enormous head through the doorway. It was that... thing. The creature that had kidnapped Soran had returned. The boy attempted to scuttle back but was already pressed into a corner. Four giant white eyes locked onto him and a mouth of razor-sharp teeth revealed themselves in a nightmarish grin. Its jacket was identical to Ranna's and its tattered pants were tucked into the biggest pair of boots Soran had ever seen.
"Relax kid. I know he's lacking in the looks department but Tugg here's just a giant puppy." Ranna said, slapping the colossal arm of the mammoth alien. Soran had seen beings like him only once before. Tugg was an Accra, a race of mostly ocean-dwelling aliens. They closely resembled sharks, whales, and various other forms of terrestrial marine life. Their huge bodies were maintained by the nearly limitless supply of food in the vast ocean of their home-world. From what Soran could remember, they were monotheistic, worshiping an ancient sea deity and often labeled as a fanatical cult. Due to their primitive and unpredictable nature, the Navy had labeled them as a restricted species, a classification most in the galaxy observed with fervor.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Tugg was fairly small for an Accra, despite dwarfing everyone on the Horizon. The lofty breathing apparatus that smothered his gills added bulk to an already imposing silhouette. Despite Ranna's reassurance, Soran was hesitant to let his guard down, his interactions with Tugg so far having been less than pleasant.
"Let's get you untied," Ranna said, tapping Tugg on the arm. Bounding over to the still traumatized Soran, Tugg hunched over and cut Soran's bindings with a large knife he unsheathed from his waist. It was his first up-close encounter with an Accra and nothing could have prepared him for the vile stench that poured from Tugg's gaping mouth. His skin went pale and he tried desperately to hold back the vomit from exploding through his pursed lips. Tugg purred gently as he sawed at the bindings, the vocal pouches of his throat inflating as he inhaled the artificial solution contained within the breathing collar.
After he was free, Soran took a deep breath of the smoke-filled air which was preferable to the rotting smell of whatever Tugg had consumed. Ranna pulled the boy to his feet and put an arm around his shoulder, escorting him to the cockpit.
"Guess you're looking for answers? Why are you here? Why three strangers plucked you out into the cosmos? Ranna asked, staring through a curved glass portal into the blackness.
"We have a lead on a huge payday. Pirate-Lord huge." Ranna said. The serious tone from earlier had returned to his voice, tinted with a hint of excitement.
"You're the only hunter in the quadrant with the skills to pull this off. Well, the only one we could convince to work with us." He said, acting as if the kidnap had been a form of mutual negotiation.
"I mean, Malig was the most dangerous one of them all so, this should be easy work right?"
"That doesn't explain why you had to kidnap me," Soran replied, annunciating his displeasure.
"I won't lie to you kid. We're currently in what you might call 'hot water' with some serious guys on Valaterra. Because of that our current mission doesn't exactly have a failure option. If you get my drift. We need you and we couldn't risk you turning down the offer." Soran could sense a semblance of regret but it was far from an apology.
The distinct possibility of being ejected from the airlock was deterrent enough not to come clean about the true nature of Malig's capture. On the other hand, soon it would become painfully obvious he was not who they thought him to be; his lightly muscled frame and accidentally acquired scar tissue a weak disguise at best. Whatever knowledge they perceived him to posses was a fantasy and a dangerous one at that. However, he could perhaps leverage the situation to get the help he needed. After all, his mission was to rescue Lanic, and — fortunately for him — he had just acquired a group of bounty hunters to aid in the task.
"What's in it for me?" Asked Soran to the surprise of Ranna and his crew, shocked at Soran's sudden attempt at negotiation.
"We're making a stop at Valaterra to meet our informant. You'll be briefed on the mission, and more importantly, the pay." El chimed in from behind, thoughts of the potential fortune swimming in her head.
"OK, I'm in. But I want something in return. I'll help you get your guy but you'll be in my debt." Soran interjected, trying to feign confidence as well as he knew how.
Ranna turned, looking at the boy with intrigue.
"Your terms?"
"A friend of mine was taken by what's left of Malig's crew. I need your help to get him back." He spoke calmly and waited for a response.
Ranna fell silent upon hearing the request. His quizzical smirk ruptured with laughter, unable to hold back his amusement. "Malig's crew? Your friend has already been tortured to death. Malig's men are sadistic psychopaths that don't spare even the weakest child. What would you have us do? Sneak onto their deathtrap and whisk your friend to freedom? Have you ever heard such shit?" Ranna spat his words as he spoke, ignoring the sincerity of the boy's fantastical request.
"Well, in that case, you can just drop me off at Valaterra and I'll be on my way." Replied Soran, hoping that his bluff would work. Barely managing to finish his sentence he was set upon by the hunters, encasing him in an aggressive cocoon.
"What did you say?" Ranna said with a soft yet sinister tone.
"When did I give you the impression this was optional? You'll help us with our catch, take your share of the slates, and then, only then, will we be parting ways. After that kid, then you can indulge your deluded suicide mission." Ranna said prodding Soran's chest threateningly after every point.
He had been naive to think he could fool them. Despite their unwillingness to help, he couldn't give up on Lanic. He was under no illusion he could save his mentor alone. The chances of coming across anyone even half as capable as the Horizon crew was a pipe dream even he couldn't indulge.
"If I refuse?" Soran's defiant mutter barely audible.
Ranna leaned up against the wall of his ship, eyeing the boy with a spellbinding stare. "I once watched Tugg rip a vault door clean in half. Imagine what he could do to a kid like you. Don't think you want to find out or, am I mistaken?" Ranna asked. Tugg bumped into the boy's back, staring down his snout menacingly and confirming their negotiation was over.
Brushing past Ranna, Soran went to sit on a bench in the rear of the ship to contemplate his fate. El shot Ranna a disapproving look. Her hair had turned a dark shade of red and her eyes were cloaked under a scowl of disappointment.
"OK" Sighed Ranna, following the boy and slumping down next to him.
"It's nothing personal kid. We want this to go off without a hitch and the best chance of that is with you. After were done ill see if I can dig up any info on Malig's crew. You know, as a little something extra for your service." Ranna said, offering a hand of peace. Soran looked the man in his midnight black eyes and sensed what he hoped was sincerity. As he clasped the man's hand in acceptance both El and Tugg clapped in relief. This wouldn't have been his first choice, but if there was any chance he was going to save Lanic, this was it.