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Chapter Twenty-Six

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Victory brewed a festive atmosphere on the Horizon. El was hoisted 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.

  Emerging on the Dahlia's underside, the Horizon's acceleration staggered to a crawl. El pulled back on the ignition levers, bringing the ship to a gradual standstill. The crew's celebration morphed into silent awe as they all gazed upon the sheer improbability of what lay before them, not a word passing between them. The sheer magnitude of their misfortune stole both their breath and hope. Preventing their escape was the largest gathering of Naval vessels they had ever seen. Not a routine patrol or unfortunately timed military exercise, the Naval armada was gathered for them.

  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, Cruisers, and Infiltrators, undoubtedly brimming with Naval Militia and ready for war at a moment's notice. Even this was deemed an unsuitable show of force as hundreds of smaller patrol vessels filled in the gaps between the enormous warships.

  "Why?" Asked Ranna in disbelief. Aiding a criminal was a severe 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 was overkill.

  Suspicion shrouded Ranna's mind. He knew there was something more to this, some other reason 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 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 crime of aiding the Pirate Lord Samael Kaligan. Surrender your ship, and you will be escorted to the Hive. Once incarcerated, you will 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 on the ground. He knew that the 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, dragged by the traction waves emitted from a nearby Cruiser. Soran watched through the viewing window as the ship grew closer. He could feel the chains tighten around his limbs with every inch of movement. The cruiser's bow 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 who knew or cared about Lanic's disappearance was in desperate need of help himself.

  The air in the Horizon grew colder as the traction waves continued to siphon their power. A frigid mist rolled from the hunter's slacked jaws, fogging the windows and temporarily shielding them from the truth. Confined by the thick walls of Nanoalloy 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 the four of them gathered to its metronomic tune.

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

  "I hope not. The scale is incalculable — so big that the algorithm can't process it," El 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 Horizon's hull, energy waves pulsing through her metallic bones. Though minor at first, they grew into concerning tremors.

  "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 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 impress upon a man his insignificance in the cosmos, a creation much 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 that sat ajar, capable of swallowing entire systems.

  "Levantikar," whispered El. Brimming with wonder, 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. Even the enormous mass of the Dahlia quaked in its wake, threatening to peel from the asteroid to which she so diligently clung. The creature's 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, no official sighting had been documented 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. Even the most diligent descriptions failed to convey the beauty and vastness of reality. All that looked upon the living myth wondered the same question. What grand designs did the creator bestow on a being such as this?

  Soran tore himself from the spectacle, noticing the tail end of the planet-sized behemoth was in sight. He punched the ignition lever to maximum thrust without hesitation, 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 criminals.

  "Soran!" Ranna yelled, 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. 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 weaved through crystalline towers that ornamented the creature's spine. The atmospheric readouts showed rich oxygenated air. The Levantikar's size was not all it had in common with habitable planets; it was one.

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

  How is this real? Soran thought to himself, trying not to get carried away by the serenity of his surroundings. Screaming plasma blasts hurtled past the Horizon, most likely warning shots so 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 wing's motion. The steep ascent 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 pulling from the bone, organs moments from bursting. With a final push from Horizon's engines, they dove off the wingtip, sinking back into the weightlessness of space.

  A collective sigh of relief accompanied agonized moans as decompression ravaged their bodies, joints clicking and snapping back into place. Tugg held his head in an attempt to hold back the vomit, pressure sickness taking its hold. Ranna slapped Soran on the back, his expression a soup of surprise and fear.

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

  "Destroyer," Ranna said, moving Soran into the co-pilot's 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 ship's walls, battering the crew and forming huge cracks and dents. Cables and loose wiring fell from panels, and sparks erupted 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 a wild tailspin, the blue fire of her exhaust engulfing them in an azure firestorm. Ranna slammed on the command console, manically trying to regain control. 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.

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