CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Spent shells birthed a cracking rain at the feet of the android army, drowning the Basilica with destructive melodies. Hesitant to divert attention in fear of losing their tenuous footing, the gunfire augmented the already treacherous climb into a near-impossible feat. Coiling through countless levels, each flight the hunters ascended added dozens of synthetic soldiers to the chase. Soran glimpsed a vast congregation of loyalists gathered around the twin's mangled remains. A snaking trail had formed in front of each body. One by one, the gathering withered, devotees dismantled for parts. Purposed with the resurrection of their lords, they surrendered to sacrifice with glee.

  "I missed," said Ranna, perturbed his execution efforts had gone to waste.

  Soran snapped back to the climb, increasing his pace. He was desperate to be planets away from the Basilica by the time the twins reformed. Failing their escape, Transference would be the least of the hunter's worries.

  Tugg tore through the hatch at the ship's summit, charging out onto the vessel's exterior. After helping the others, he bent the steel hatch inward, creating a barrier between them and the synthetic masses.

  From this altitude, the true magnitude of the Basilica revealed itself. Several kilometers in circumference, it brushed the hanging foliage of the cave ceiling. At this vantage point, the ornate circuitry that coated every inch of the hull shone with exquisite detail.

  A stray plasma round ripped through Tugg's makeshift barricade, whizzing just shy of Ranna's freshly regrown arm. Suspended hundreds of feet in the air, the hunters were trapped with no apparent way down.

  El scouted their immediate surroundings, stopping in her tracks as the cavern floor came into view. Tugg joined at her side, immediately staggering in trepidation. Tens of thousands of Accran soldiers surrounded the Basilica. Not an inch of the expanse was unoccupied. Giant artillery constructs stood primed to fire at the rear, overshadowed by a platoon of winged, eel-like creatures, each carrying a unit of silver-clad lancers, their serpentine helmets gleaming with caustic motion. The army of Accrakos had arrived.

  Sat in a defeated huddle as war drums rang out from below, the hunters silently contemplated their fate. A simmer of regret sat with them for not considering their climb. Where exactly did they think they would go once they reached the summit? The question a painful reminder to look before leaping. Hindsight, however, was never something Ranna entertained for long. The planet's seismic activity had escalated to the point that large shards of coral-coated sediment were plummeting to the ground below. These jagged missiles exploded on contact with the Accran shields as the soldiers beneath continued their assault on the Basilica's unyielding defenses.

  Soran looked around at the pained expressions of his comrades. Addressing their helplessness was to throw salt on a wound continuously reopened beyond capacity to heal. Freedom had become so illusory that the boy was dubious that it still even existed. Being chased by pirates, the Navy, or just a stranger who wished them harm seemed to be the path they were destined to endure. In a galaxy where everything worth having had already been lost, was it any wonder that death was all that remained?

  The Basilica cried a thunderous crackle of disintegration as her shields retreated. The Accrans finally breached the impenetrable fortress of the Cybel.

  The charge was instant and unified. Accran cannons ripped holes in the ship's underbelly, and within seconds, a swarm of soldiers clashed with the android army that awaited inside. Sinew and steel collided. What the synthetics lacked in strength, they made up for in numbers. Wave after wave burst free from the recharging pods, but they still struggled to defeat even a single invader. Stocked with only the finest warriors, trained in combat since childhood, the Accran were renowned for staving off every attacker that had ever dared step foot on their world.

  With a deafening snap, one of the primary support chains suspending the Basilica broke free from its rocky anchor. The colossal links made the long fall to the crowded ground below, plowing through hundreds of fleeing soldiers before lying motionless in a murderous coil. The army ceased its advance. Cracking rock echoed through the cavern as the other chains wormed to freedom. Unable to predict where the chains would fall, the Accran's well-organized ranks burst into chaos. The winged beasts shrieked in terror as they fled the plummeting restraints, casting their riders into the air as they performed an erratic ballet of survival. It was everyone for themselves. However, the sheer footprint of the bindings was too enormous to escape. The second and third chains plummeted to the surface, crushing everything. Vast clouds of volcanic soil surged from the boiling pools, filling the subterranean lair with a choking ebon smog. The Basilica had metamorphosed into an enraged Kraken, its inescapable metal tentacles making light work of the aggressors. As the haze of devastation cleared, the megalithic bindings retracted into the ship, revealing bloodstained trails of smashed bodies beneath. Only one chain remained.

  The ship swung tentatively back and forth, uncoupling the final chain spelling doom to all in the spherical vessel's path. The odds were grim for the hunters, unfortunate enough to be trapped on her outer shell.

  "Mag-boots would be handy about now," Ranna said as he looked down at his feet. Unarmed and clad in antiquated suits, they were genuinely helpless. Tugg pointed at the final chain with a look that some might mistake for confidence. He clambered onto the lower links to check for stability, grasping tightly to the rust-soaked metal. With deliberation no longer an option, the crew clambered from link to link, hurriedly proceeding to the anchor point. Suddenly, the wailing cry of ignition permeated the cave. With a bolt of life shot into her core, a blinding light swelled within. The Basilica woke up.

  At the Basilica's heart, Volka paced furiously around the core, furious at the theft of his precious relics.

  "Kill the fish and detonate the planet. I'll pull the keystones from the ashes. The great work will continue unimpeded." He ordered, watching his incensed brother carve a path through the intruding army. No price was too high for Volka in the pursuit of his mission. With one command, he sealed the fate of Accrakos.

  Soran's eyes were welded with fear as he shimmied across the chain, determined to avoid the paralyzing reality of the sheer drop below. Their path to freedom would be retracted at any second, plummeting them into the shattered warscape — a lethal terrain of boiling pits, war machines, and a sizable expanse of jagged rocks.

  A less convenient moment to discover a phobia there was not, but unfortunately, they had no other way to proceed. Having spent his life in space, heights were never an issue. With Mag-Boots permanently affixed to your feet, a phobia of falling rarely developed amongst the vacuum-dwelling populations.

  Tugg reached out, attempting to pull himself onto the rocky outcrop at the summit of the chain. As his outstretched fingers pawed at the moss-bearded ledge, he watched a forked crack splinter the cavern roof. Like a bolt of lightning, it tore through the sediment and rained debris on the battlefield. All eyes were drawn skyward, affixed to the crumbling walls. Within seconds, the cracks had expanded into giant rifts. Boulders fell like hail, crushing everything in their path. Streams of seawater poured from the fissures, swiftly maturing into a dozen cascading waterfalls that submerged the battling armies. In minutes, the entire cavern transformed into a sunken ruin.

  With a mighty crack, the hunter's lifeline snapped. The colossal chain spilled from its fixture in a rusted stream, spiraling from its socket and slicing through the hull of the Basilica as it plummeted to the ground. The hunters plunged into the steaming lake, their suits hissing in reaction to the sudden spike in temperature.

  The deflating purr of the Basilica's engine was music to the Accran soldiers. For them, the ship's fall from grace signaled their victory. They drummed on the armor plating of their chests, bellowing a triumphant war cry that carried through the water like whale song.

  Unlike the androids and Accran, breathing underwater was not a skill Soran, Ranna, or El possessed. They floundered against the punishing rush of intersecting currents, struggling to activate their helmets. Paralyzed with indecision, Tugg froze. His entire life on Accrakos had been strictly regimented. What to do, where to be, and how to act had always been givens. With Ranna and El guiding his actions aboard the Horizon, self-governance was a burden he gladly avoided. His eyes were wide as if staring at an oncoming freighter, waiting for the impact. Spears of anxiety encroached from all sides as his crew struggled desperately against the current. Though wrought with a debilitating lack of self-belief, his time for deliberation was over.

  Tugg bundled the crew onto his back, ensuring the suit's aqueous film had enveloped their heads before diving deeper into the submerged expanse. Once again, he demonstrated his subaqueous prowess, effortlessly gliding around sinking rocks and using them for cover, hoping their escape would remain unnoticed. At present, the Accran army remained preoccupied with boarding the flooded Basilica. Despite the Nanoalloy that compromised both their ship and synthetic bodies being unaffected by saltwater, the androids were undoubtedly out of their element. With plasma unusable in these conditions, the Accrans switched to their bladed weapons, regaining their military discipline and boarding through the multiple hull breaches.

  Precious seconds vanished as Tugg struggled to navigate the ruinous terrain. He soared through the water, painfully aware that the suits would not halt the boiling ocean for long.

  A distant set of objects attracted Tugg's attention. Making a sharp turn through a ravine of luminous coral, he scouted the target from a distance. A fleet of Accran speeders floated at the rear of the cave. Small submarine-type vehicles, primarily used when traversing the open ocean. Fast as a bullet and almost invisible to the countless predators that stalked the depths, they were more than a welcome sight. Upon confirming the vessels were unoccupied, Tugg shot toward the speeders, prying open the entrance hatch and dumping his comrades inside. After checking his fellow hunters for injury, he rushed to the control platform. A ring of panels and levers descended, suspending their motion around his waist in midair. Despite only having the use of one arm, it was apparent to the others that he wasn't a first-time pilot. Within seconds, the vessel sped off, entering the maze-like tunnels that connected the major Accran cities. With the chaos of battle fading into the background and the last of the salty solution expelled from their lungs, all sighed a well-deserved breath of relief.

  Tugg felt the hand of his Captain on his shoulder.

  "Fine work, my friend. Drinks are on me when we make it out. And that, my fellow hunters, is why he's second in command." Ranna said smugly.

  "I thought I was second?" El snapped.

  "It's a constantly rotating position. Who knows, maybe the kid will hold it one day." Soran received a wink, which he immediately took as a challenge.

  "What is the plan with those?" Soran asked, pointing to the gathering of keystones swinging from Ranna's neck.

  "Well, I figure something that causes this much trouble must be worth an equal amount of credits. Don't you agree? And with Teege and Veng gone, Valaterra's probably a safe place to do business again." The removal of two of their biggest problems was ample reason to smile.

  "However, we still have our little bounty issue to contend with. Never know who we might run into on those rough streets. With that type of cash on our heads, it might be best to lay low for a while." Everyone nodded in agreement. After all the excitement, Soran had forgotten entirely that they were all wanted for high treason against the government. The prospect of returning to a normal life was well and truly extinguished.

  The speeder's pace was incredible — cutting through the water like a knife and leaving anything that happened to clock the vessel as a distant blur almost instantly. The entirety of the tunnel system had flooded, and the extent of the damage extended into the city. Buildings were completely submerged, and the once-bustling streets were abandoned. All that remained were a few stragglers, Rogues looting discarded goods, and business owners attempting to salvage what was left. For an aquatic race, the Accran seemed surprisingly unsuited to their new underwater kingdom, the majestic capital fast becoming little more than ruins. The tremors were so severe that structures were swallowed whole by the sand and sucked deep into the vast forests that hid beneath the surface. Whatever the keystones were, removing them from their resting place was not without consequence.

  Ranna thumbed over the sharp extrusions and marveled at the intricate details laced into the surface of each object. Static buzzed through his fingertips as strange energy seeped into the atmosphere around them. He had never laid eyes on such a unique set of artifacts. Like something out of time, they stood out amongst the treasures of his past. Whatever they were, he was sure that being out of pirate hands was the best place for them.

  He caught Soran's eyes affixed to his actions and lent back cautiously. It was apparent to Ranna that the boy had an affinity for them, but trust prevented him from leveling an accusation.

  Upon the Horizon crew's inception, one rule was established. One principle that must be upheld for as long as the hunt continues.

  Your past is your own.

  Each member echoed these words upon swearing in. After all, enrolling in a career of dubious legality with a band of highly suspect characters, the offer to conceal their histories required little persuasion. Bounty hunting wasn't a profession for those unblemished by life's cruelties. It was a net to catch the fallen, a vocation that recruited from the gutter. If you had anything to lose, throwing yourself into the firing line day after day didn't sound that appealing. They knew nothing of each other but trust, and that's how they liked it. Ranna tucked the keystones into his shirt and returned to gazing at the fallen empire crumbling around them.

  Arriving back at the flooded elevator shaft, the hunters were greeted with the remains of what was the ropeway, now just a collection of bent metal and splintered panels. Tugg yanked on the speeder's control levers, darting into the ruined shaft that would lead them out to the safety of the surface: that, and the salvation of Teege's ship.

  Enveloped in darkness, the crew clutched at the fixings, praying for an uneventful voyage. With the entire planet plunged into environmental chaos, an Accran pursuit seemed unlikely. Even the Cybel twins, who were doubtless cursing their names, would be kept at bay by the state of their ship.

  A beacon of light sliced through the trembling ocean. They had arrived. Surfacing at the boarding station, they exited the speeder to find the primitive cable car in pieces. Rope-tied shards of broken wood littered the ground, the antique gears bent at sharp angles. Walking into the arrival bay, they faltered in their advance. The security tower that had welcomed them had become a slaughterhouse. Mangled Accran bodies smothered the control consoles. Flickering Holo-screens flashed ominous warning messages obscured by layers of blood, so fresh the drops were still falling. Soran reluctantly surveyed the macabre scene and noticed something strange about the corpses. There were no gaping gunshot wounds or lacerations from sharpened blades. Swollen bodies with broken limbs were all that lay before them — violent brutality delivered by the hands of someone who lacked any sense of decency or respect. Caught in the death stare of glazed-over eyes, Soran reimagined the horrors he had witnessed on the Gallowmare. A melancholy fog of unpleasant memories washed over him. He could feel his feet slowly sinking as the muffled whispers of a dying man begged him for release. His mind spared no detail, an elaborate rendition of the bruised and trembling lips, miming the most desperate pleas. Ranna grabbed him by the shoulder. The boy gasped as the imagined nightmare bled into the killing ground that was reality.

  "Quakes didn't cause this. We're not the only ones that were trying to get the hell out of here." Ranna said as he ran toward the exit. He prayed that whoever was responsible for the massacre didn't take off in their only means of escape.

  A sigh escaped his jaws. She was still there. A little banged up from the planet-wide convulsion, but visually in working condition.

  As they approached the ship's rear, they noticed the access ramp was down. Soran took point position, holding his knife at arm's length, painfully aware he had the wrong weapon for the job. He sleuthed onto the exposed ramp, each step masked by the raging waters crashing around them. The lavishly decorated interior was seemingly unoccupied, faint whispers of music still creeping from the speakers. The entire scene reeked of sabotage.

  Once everyone was on board, Ranna grabbed hold of the ramp's withdrawal lever, twisting it with a turn to seal them safely inside. Almost in unison, they crashed out onto the grand sofas that stretched toward the ship's bow, sharing a nervous chuckle of disbelief. They were unable to fully comprehend what had just occurred, reveling in the fact that they had emerged from a warzone unscathed.

  An ominous clang sounded from the rear door, and the hunters shot to their feet. A foreign object obstructed the closing mechanism, and error tones blared from the operation panel. The remaining sliver of light from the outside world pulled their eyes to what prevented their escape. Four metallic fingers were clasped tightly on the edge of the ramp, pulling with animal-like ferocity. The barbed scream of hissing pistons scraped the air as their assailant fought with the ship's automated mechanisms. Slowly but surely, the ramp began to descend, revealing the unnatural horror of a trunk-like synthetic arm. The raging storm shadowed a face set deep into monstrous shoulders that quivered as they tore into the ship. Steam jets shot from the walls, filling the vessel with a scalding mist. The ramp suspension ceased functioning and plummeted onto the drowning sand barge with a dull clang. Light shimmered off of the chrome surface that coated its limbs. A network of interlaced, intricate wiring fitted between the joints, contorting as the being stretched its extremities. Soran's body tensed as he saw the corners of its mouth recede into a twisted grin, a grin that revealed a row of terrifyingly familiar golden teeth.