CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Victory cheers permeated the jovial atmosphere of the Horizon. El was hoisted up out of the pilot's chair and carried around on Tugg’s shoulders. Acting without hesitation, she had given them the vital seconds they needed. Her crew was beyond impressed. This was what it meant to be a hunter. Soran could feel the exhilaration coursing through his body. He knew that this time nothing would get in their way. Nothing would stop him from saving Lanic.

Upon emerging from the Dahlia, the Horizon's acceleration staggered to a crawl. El pulled back on the ignition levers and brought the ship to a gradual standstill. The crew's celebration was morphed into silent awe as they all gazed upon the sheer improbability of what lay before them. Not a word passed between the hunters. Both their breath and hope were stolen by the sheer magnitude of their misfortune. Preventing their escape was the single largest gathering of Naval vessels any of them had ever seen. This was no routine patrol or unfortunately timed military exercise. It was the Naval armada.

Three Citadel class vessels, including the damaged Plata Lanza, formed an unrivaled celestial blockade, its majesty sufficient to back down any opponent. The Citadels were flanked by dozens of Destroyers and Cruisers, undoubtedly brimming with Naval Militia and ready for war at a moment's notice. Even this was deemed an unsuitable show of force. Hundreds of smaller patrol vessels filled in the gaps between the huge warships.

“Why?” Asked Ranna in disbelief. Aiding a criminal was a serious offense, and harboring one incurred a comparable penalty, but assembling the entire armada to apprehend a Pirate-Lord was unheard of. Even for a villainous cur like Kaligan, sending more than one or two Captains would have been overkill. Suspicion shrouded Ranna's mind. He knew there was something more to this, some other reason that the Navy had chosen to gather in this place and on this scale.

The comms system on the pilot's dashboard began to flash, followed by the chime of an incoming communication. El reached over and flicked up the receiver switch, waiting to hear the voice that would be handing down their sentence.

“Fugitives of the Horizon. This is Captain Susa Noctei of the Citadel Plata Lanza. On behalf of the Galactic Navy and by personal request of the galactic council, I am placing you under arrest for the crimes of aiding the criminal Samael Kaligan. Surrender your ship and you will be escorted to the Hive to serve a combined sentence of nine-hundred-and-five years. There will be no appeal, no jury, and no compromise. Compliance is mandatory.” The receiver went dead. They were caught in Captain Noctei's net, struggling under the weight of the conviction.

“What do we do?” Soran asked. If the crew ever needed a Captain, it was now. Even the slightest glimmer of hope, a fraction of a plan. Something to turn the certainty of their demise into something else, anything else.

Ranna stayed silent, his gaze fixed to the ground. He knew that longing gazes of expectation awaited him but didn't have the strength to face them. Tugg formed a cocoon of abnegation. Head in hands and eyes clenched shut in an attempt to dissipate the encroaching visions of incarceration. Having spent his formative years in a near-limitless ocean, the thought of being confined to a cage was more than he could bear. With their leader and muscle out of action, Soran turned to El, hoping her intellect would shoulder the burden. The apologetic expression returned to him hurt more than any verbal rejection. It was over.

The Horizon accelerated, pulled through the traction waves emitted from a nearby Cruiser. Soran watched as the ship grew closer through the viewing window, he could feel the chains tighten around his limbs with every inch of movement. The bow of the cruiser split in two, opening outward to reveal the docking bay inside. The jaws of finality were gaping before his eyes and no matter how much the boy struggled, it would not be enough to break free.

I'm sorry.

Soran sighed, placing his head into his icy palms. There would be no daring rescue from the Bassalark's grasp. The only person that knew or cared about Lanic’s disappearance was in desperate need of help himself.

The air in the Horizon grew colder as the Naval technology continued to siphon their power. A frigid mist rolled from their slacked jaws, fogging up the windows and temporarily shielding them from the truth. Confined by thick steel walls and with no chance of escape, it was as if their sentence had arrived early, their cage materializing around them. A low hum reverberated through the ship and the Holo-lens attached to El’s wrist lit up with a notification. The chime increased in pitch until all four of them were drawn to its metronomic tune.

“More ships?” Ranna asked, recognizing the incoming signal as a proximity warning.

“I hope not. The scale is incalculable, the algorithm can't process it.” She replied with a concerned look.

Ranna wrestled himself to his feet and routed emergency power through the onboard generator. Their radar flashed up, confirming their suspicions about the incoming object. Vibrations rolled through the hull of the Horizon, waves of energy pulsing through her metallic bones. Though minor at first, they grew into concerning tremours.

“What are they planning?” Ranna asked, clearing the fog from the window to examine the Naval ships. Reinforcements were out of the question, and a pirate counterattack would be suicide on a good day. The object continued to draw closer. The perpetual hum had transformed into an oscillating groan, powerful enough to displace smaller objects. Everything not bolted down formed a sea of detritus that crashed against the hunter's unsteady legs.

“Hold on” commanded Ranna as the advancing object entered into their firing threshold, around a hundred kilometers from their position. Violent quakes wracked the ship and the traction waves deactivated, the Naval vessels doubtless experiencing the same anomaly. The Horizon crew watched in awe as something rose from the blackness below.

It was a sight to truly impress upon a man his insignificance in the cosmos. A creation must older and more magnificent than humanity. Of such unfathomable scale that both planets and stars alike, cowered under its all-encompassing shadow. A spear of sedimentary scales climbed into the heavens, parting the assembled armada on a wave of gravitational displacement. Endless wings peeled from its roiling core, so expansive they appeared to touch even the most distant sun. Crowning the behemoth was a majestic snouted jaw, sat ajar, capable of swallowing entire systems.

“Levantikar” whispered El, her filled with wonder, and her skin glittered with flakes of pale lavender.

A cosmic serpent from a long-forgotten past. The impossible creature continued its ascent between the Horizon and the armada, all of whom were mere insects in the presence of its planetary mass. Its dozens of gargantuan wings undulated delicately, each so massive that one beat took minutes to complete its cycle. Soran was unreachable. He had descended into a myth, unable to separate fantasy and reality.

Levantikar. It was a word he had heard as a child, one of Lanic's many attempts to scare the boy into acceptable behavior. Tales of space monsters that would swallow you whole in your sleep if you didn't do as you were told. Even in the most reputable anecdotes of their existence, they hadn't been seen in millennia. Their prophesied return foretold an omen of grave misfortune.

Unfathomable epochs decorated the creature's carapace, sprouting into entire ecosystems. Vast deserts of crystal ran across its body, extending for miles and peaking in brilliant white spires. Forests of moss and dirt stretched out on its underbelly, forming a labyrinth of root-like systems that the beast wore as armor. Historic descriptions were insufficient in conveying its beauty and vastness. All that looked upon the living myth wondered what purpose such a titan was created to enact.

Soran tore himself from the spectacle, noticing the tail end of the planet-sized behemoth was in sight. Without hesitation, he punched the ignition lever to maximum thrust, propelling the Horizon on a crash course with the monumental serpent. The Naval ships reacted immediately. Countless scout class vessels made a beeline to intercept the fleeing Horizon.

“Soran, no!” Ranna interjected, well aware of both the consequences and futility of running. The scout ships were fast approaching but Soran still needed more time to think. He pulled out an overhead panel, flicking four switches and opening all eight of the Horizon's wings to give them the speed they so desperately needed. A thick layer of cloud washed over the surface of the Levantikar and Soran dove the Horizon into its protective cover. Proximity warnings flared through the speakers and the boy was forced to weave through crystalline towers that ornamented the creature's spine. The atmospheric readouts showed rich oxygenated air. The Levantikar’s size, it seemed, was not all it had in common with habitable planets. It was one.

The deeper the Horizon delved, the more picturesque the surface of the creature became. Lush grass-filled valleys crisscrossed with streams ran wild over the hill like mounds, eventually peaking into a moss-covered mountain range.

How is this real? Soran thought to himself, trying to not get carried away by the serenity of his surroundings. Screaming blasts of plasma hurtled past the Horizon, most likely warning shots as not to incinerate the precious cargo. Soran's motor skills were more adept than he thought, dodging the incoming fire with ease, using his environment as a shield. After solving the mountainous riddle, they sailed along an outstretched wing and could see the tip rising before them. A tsunami of ancient rock and crystal forced the Horizon to tilt her nose, climbing in unison with the motion of the wing. The ascent was steep and gravity produced by the Levantikar caused intense turbulence and pressure to build inside the ship. The crew anchored themselves to the fixtures, their muscles being pulled from the bone and their organs feeling moments from bursting. With a final push from Horizon's engines, they dove off of the wingtip, sinking back into the weightlessness of space.

A collective sigh of relief was coupled with moaning as the decompression ravaged their bodies, joints clicking and snapping back into place. Tugg held his head in an attempt to hold back the vomit as the pressure sickness kicked in. Ranna gave Soran a slap on the back, his gaze a soup of surprise and fear.

“Nice driving kid, think we…” He was stopped mid-sentence as a plasma lance screeched underneath the Horizon, missing them by mere inches.

“Destroyer,” Ranna said, moving Soran into the other seat and taking the controls himself. Lances required a cannon to deploy and were exclusively the domain of the larger vessels.

“That wasn't a warning shot. Looks like they're done playing. Everyone brace!” As Ranna muttered his final words, the Horizon spiraled out of control, three of her wings incinerated by a secondary lance firing. A hurricane of loose cargo slammed into the walls of the ship, battering the crew and forming huge cracks and dents in the walls. Cables and loose wiring fell from panels, and sparks began to erupt from damaged consoles. A torrent of wild miscellany rained down on the cowering hunters. Exposed and unprotected, they had no option but to endure the heavy impacts, covering their heads for survival.

The Horizon span uncontrollably, becoming trapped in the gravity of a nearby planetoid. She tore through the atmosphere in an uncontrollable tailspin; The blue fire of her exhaust engulfing the ship in an azure inferno. Ranna slammed on the command console, manically trying to get a response. All systems were unresponsive. The extensive damage was more than the ship could handle, and there was nothing left to do but brace, waiting for the inevitable impact and the all-consuming inferno.