Astral Realms - A New Dawn

When Vindril’s head finally peaked from the underground tunnel he and his companions had travelled in, he did so with his Mary pointed right ahead. In front of him, there was a room he immediately recognized. It was Yurian’s personal office. Ahhh, that made sense. What better place to build a tunnel than right where he spent most of his times. And if Vindril knew that man well, and quite honestly, he certainly did, there were more than one of those things scattered around the shop’s perimeter.

Without even missing a beat, he quickly climbed out the iron stairs he stood on, followed closely by everyone else; even the robot that had carried the capsule all the way there climbed out, pushing the heavy thing out the way first. It was even a miracle that thing had gently leaned it on the perfectly clean, and absolutely breakable floor they were now standing on. Otherwise, they would have surely attracted unwanted attention that was better left undisturbed.

As the trapdoor that had led them in there was swiftly closed off to be reused in a time of need, Vindril looked around, searching the room for any possible threat that could have lurked around. He even tried to peak though the windows, searching for all the imperial troops that were for surely waiting out there, patiently waiting for him to make a mistake. But no matter how much he peered outside, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. At last nothing he recognized.

The same starships, in their magnificent shapes and forms, that he had seen in his past visits were still reigning supreme over the entire perimeter of the shop. He calmed down, breathing in a breath of relief. For the moment, it seemed they were in the clear.

“Alright.” said Jarik, who had just unholstered the gun he had strapped around his left leg. “Keep your head down and move fast. Also, observe a rigid silence, no matter what. The fucking imperial dogs are patrolling the area around the hangar.”

“Wait!” thundered Vindril, perhaps a bit too harshly than what he wanted.

Jarik stopped, arching his brows. “What?”

“Where’s Yurian? I thought that-”

“Don’t you waste your energies thinking about him.” he said, opening the door that led on the back. “He’s holed up in his hangar with some of the boys, talking with some imperial big shots. He’s probably feeding them a bunch of bullshit if I know him good enough. Ah! Serves them right! Fucking…”

The next words came out of his mouth in barely perceptible whispers. Not that Vindril required much imagination to know what the hell he had said. It was probably another endless series of colourful insults that just rolled out too perfectly on his tongue for him to contain himself. Vindril had even tried to ask him the reason behind such pure and uncontrolled hate towards the Empire. Now, Vindril didn’t live with his head above the clouds. Well, most of the times. Anyway, he knew that the Empire wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But he couldn’t picture it as the evil incarnate Jarik made it out to be. It was evident something bad had happened to him in the past. Whatever that thing was, he had no way of knowing.

As Jarik finished cursing, he pushed a button to throw open wide the door. Immediately, a chill air hit them head on, making them shudder. Damned Keelo Prime and its thermal excursion…

Vindril frowned. Wasn’t being tired, covered in sand from head to toes, all the while being hunted down by imperial forces like a rabid dog enough? Apparently no.

Ignorant of Vindril’s internal rumbling, Jarik ventured forth into the open, immediately pressing his back against the frame of the nearest ship to him. Vindril, aware of the situation they were in, wondered if it was necessary to be so cautions. He knew the imperial forces weren’t going to simply let them pass unharmed, if they ever found themselves in the unpleasant situation of having to deal with them. Still, he was under the impression that Jarik was exaggerating. Surely, even if Vindril and his merry crew had survived that attempt to their lives, taking with them whoever was frozen in time in that cryo thing, the Empire had more pressing concerns to address than that. The skirmishes and battles its miliary was currently fighting all across the borders were way more pressing to resolve than that capsule disappearing…right?

As Vindril trailed behind Jarik’s back, always keeping a watchful gaze towards the parking lot in case an enemy suddenly popped up from their cover, he considered the implication of that reasoning.

While it was true that the Empire held itself in very high esteem, mainly due to the repressing policies that were enacted by the armed forces tasked to carry out the forced propaganda that its higher ups had so carefully crafted, (fortunately things on Keelo Prime had always been waaaay laxer than in other planets of the Empire; perhaps its scarce population contributed to that. Anyway, he was sure glad that was the case. Otherwise, he would have never returned to that desolate rock of a planet.) the other hundreds of realms that were scattered all around the galaxy didn’t exactly look at it in the same light. Sure, there were a couple of them really, that shared a delicate alliance with it; but it was such a fragile thing that even a whisper of wind would have broken it into thousand little pieces. So that’s why he didn’t believe they were going to encounter much resistance on their way to the ship.

But now that they were out and about, he had to reconsider. Or maybe not? Yes. Until he got a real good look at what was going on and understood what the deal was, he would without judgment.

//////

When the group finally reached the hangar where the Silver Death had been stored since the day Vindril had decided, perhaps against his better judgement, to restore her, they stopped, kneeling down to hide their presence behind a metal cart that had been somehow left there unattended. It was a strange thing to find, and Vindril even thought it a trap. But as they got near it, he visibly relaxed. It seemed that nothing dangerous was hiding near it.

Over the next ship was a different thing however!

Walking slowly, with their white armors that shone bright as the sun against the darkening skies, there was a group of imperial soldiers. In their hands they had some rifles, but Vindril couldn’t clearly tell what models they were using. Most probably, if his mind wasn’t paying him any tricks, those were either models of 4H-Slifer, a kind of high precision rifle that shot regular bullets, just at high speed, or YWR Manticore, a kind of heat rifle that was renowned for its power, but was also infamous for his lack of precision. Vindril was also aware of a certain prototype that was currently being tested, if the arms dealer he knew had said the truth. However, even if knew all of that, nothing something to be particularly useful in that situation. They had to find a way to either evade them, if such a thing was even possible with a robot on their heels that was carrying a giant piece of iron with a woman in it. Those kinds of things usually stood out, no?

He smirked. He had just thought about using that damned capsule as an improvised shield of sorts. It wouldn’t have been the most thought plan of his, but he was sure it could work out in the end. After all, that capsule was made with a material so strong that it had withstood without any kind of problem the barrage of debris, explosion, and projectiles of the morning battles. For surely, it wouldn’t have been a problem to deflect a couple of meagre rifles.

“Stop it.” said Ar, who was pointing one of their weapons right at the head of the nearest enemy. And judging by the confident demeanour he exuded, the possibility of missing the target was not even in question. “You’re giving me the creeps.”

“Ohhh, look who’s on edge. Ar, are you nervous?”

It was half a miracle Ar didn’t turn around and hit him straight in the head, just out of spite. But Ar couldn’t remove the perfectly aligned trajectory they had painstakingly obtained over the enemy. So they simply shrugged, and moved on. Not before mocking him, though.

“I swear, you manage to irk me at the strangest of times. You must have a death wish. That, or you have some screws loose up there. Anyway, if you keep behaving like that, I’ll knock you out someday.”

Vindril looked into the magazine that was currently mounted inside his Mary. Good. He still had five or six rounds left before it completely ran out. United with the only one left he had strapped around his belt, that gave him the grand total of eighteen rounds. Not a ton, but he could certainly work with that.

“And which of the two do you believe is true?”

“…Honestly, I’m starting to believe you’re so mad that both are tr-”

Jarik got near them, interrupting what had the potential to be a perfectly executed joke; obviously, at Vindril’s expense. “If you two are done with your little charade, than let’s fucking turn back the focus at the task at hand, uh?” he said. A fake smile, venomous to the right point, was making his lips arch upwards. Vindril almost laughed out loud at the sight of such a face, but ultimately managed to just smile instead. “What the hell are you smiling at now?! God, how much I hate you right now.”

“Yeah, yeah. You always say that. But deep down you know you enjoy having me around. Even if you deny it, of course.”

“Umph.” grunted out Jarik, turning his gaze towards the imperial soldier that had just moved to the right, the one was currently “Feel free to believe that. I neither have the strength or the energies to deny such bullshit.”

“Ah!” Vindril said, this time adding a clearly joking tone to his voice. “That means I win.”

“Yeah, whatever. We have to decide how to deal with those fuckers. There’s no way around them, so I say we kill them and be done with them.”

“How about no?” suddenly blurted out Sorin. His eyes were fixed on the tallest guard of them all, pointing his gun right where his abdomen was. At least, that was what Vindril believed, as he had no way of knowing what his intentions really were. After all, Sorin could be…hard to decipher. He was as carefree and lazy as they came. “Feel freed to kill them if you want to. But I won’t be taking part in any of that shit. To steal something from the Empire is one thing. But to kill its soldiers? That’s only asking for troubles. And I’m not going to get myself involved in something so bothersome.”

Vindril arched his brows confused. What was Sorin talking about? Was he really convinced that the Empire valued their soldiers at such a high level? Surely he couldn’t be so naïve when he read so much. True, those weren’t exactly scientific publications about the latest discoveries that some recluse doctor had done; but they certainly served in keeping his neurons active.

He was on the verge of telling his soon to be pilot, if that was indeed how things were going to unfold, how stupid that line of thinking was. However, it was Jarik who acted first. “It makes no fucking difference, boy. Trust me.”

“Boy? I’m twenty-seven.”

Huh. Interesting. Vindril thought he was even younger than him. Went to show one could rarely judge a person based only on appearances. “Doesn’t matter. You’re all like children to me.”

“Armed children. Dangerous one at that.”

“But still ignorant on how the galaxy really works, if you think the Empire will weight those deeds the same. To them, what you three have done is a much more serious thing. Well, not that it really matters at this point. You have to accept that your actions will have consequences to pay. Anyway, what do you want to do? We must pass through there. Now.”

“Maybe we could try to knock them out?” asked Vindril, trying to mediate a truce.

Ar shrugged. “If you think you have what it takes to knock unconscious some trained soldiers with the equipment we have available, be my guest. I won’t risk it.”

Vindril cursed out loud. Shit. Ar was right. They couldn’t risk getting injured, or even killed, just to avoid getting their hands dirty. They knew the risks when they signed their papers. They couldn’t blame them if they ended up dying while on duty.

What? That was what Vindril was repeating inside the confines of his mind to steel himself. He had killed a couple of times before. And in neither case he had enjoyed it. He sighed. Better not think about it.

Having finally reached an agreement on how to proceed, everyone quickly made their way to their respective positions. Jarik, who was the only one in the group that had ammo to waste, beside a vast assortment of that, took position behind some sort of metallic left overs that served as improvised shielding. Needless to say, his was the most upfront position. On the left, Sorin and Ar were ready to blast into oblivion everything that tried to fight back, while Vindril was on the right side. To complete this offensive line, the droid could have served as bait. But it was quickly opted out. Who was going to carry that capsule if the droid would end up destroyed in the fight?

Vindril took a calming breath. Everything was in place. It was time to act and board his ship.

//////

As the last of the imperial forces were taken care off, everyone quickly made their way inside the hangar by using the quick access code that had been in Jarik’s possession all along. It was one of the many securities measures Mack I was equipped with by Yurian through the years, one of those things that wasn’t all that welcomed by his collaborators, as he used to call them, but that with time they grew accustomed to. Well, Vindril couldn’t speak in Jarik’s place, but he was sure as hell glad he had implemented such a thing. Otherwise, the thought of having his dream taken care off would have tormented him since day one. And he just couldn’t have afforded to lose some precious sleep. Survival, as he used to say, was the top priority; even when the odds were clearly stacked against him.

Putting those useless considerations aside, Vindril began frantically searching for the ship that would ply the perpetual darkness of space. It was a simple enough task, but made much more complicated by the environment, which for some reason was shrouded in darkness. Yurian had probably ordered his crew to completely close all the windows, nooks and crannies that the hangar had around its megalithic structure. He could not know for sure, but this had all been done to hide the ship from prying eyes long before all that chaos had exploded like a proximity mine during the day. At least, that was Vindril's impression. And if he knew Yurian as he thought he did, and he certainly did, then that cunning fox had taken further actions to preserve his privileged position on Keelo Prime. Ahhhh, the joys of having money and power to squander…

Slowly, as he literally couldn’t see a palm from his head, (lighting up the powerful lamps mounted up high in the ceiling metallic tubular frame would have equivaled to lighting up a lighthouse. Might as well reveal their presence then) he advanced towards the middle of it, where he remembered the ship had been placed. Given that Jarik had led them to the same hangar he had previously been in, Vindril thought it obvious that the ship had not been moved elsewhere. It wouldn’t have made any sense otherwise. And judging by the dark, undefined silhouette that was starting to sort of take shape in front of them, the Silver Death was indeed in the same place he had left her. However, he couldn’t help but feel like something different was-

“There you are, goddammit!” screamed a male voice Vindril immediately recognized. It was Warbren. No doubt about it. “I don’t know what the fuck have you done to piss off like that every single imperialist on this shitty planet, but you’ve fucking done it, didn’t you. Even the Academy is in an uproar.”

Immediately, Ar and Sorin pointed their weapons right where Warben was standing, aiming at his chest. The moment Vindril realized what was going on, he stepped in between, positioning himself in front of the line of fire to shield the mechanic. After all, it was the right thing do, right? Warbren had landed him a helping hand in finishing the star ship when he wasn’t even obliged to do so, save moral ones. Surely, saving his skin from a close up shot that would have disintegrated him was the least he could do… Well…yes. But in retrospect, he also realized how dumb and irresponsible doing something like that had been.

“Whoa!” said Vindril. To deescalate the situation, he made it a show of keeping the barrel of his Mary pointed down to the floor. “Calm down! We’re all on the same side.”

“…Are we?” asked Sorin suspicious. “I recognize him. He’s from the Academy. Which is by extension, Empire. Which also brings up the question: what is he doing here?”

Vindril’s heart quickened, and not for the right reasons. Here he was, just a few paces away from boarding inside his dream of adventure, with a couple of weapons ready to kill him at the wrong move. Really, how unlucky could he be? At this point, he didn’t even want to find out.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“And that is…?” asked Ar. Surprisingly, unlike past interactions, they didn’t seem all that ready to shot him down just to kill Warbren. Good. Maybe, if he said the right things at the right time, things could calm down. But he had to do so quickly. The Empire wasn’t going to let them get away for long. Sooner or later, they would track them down in that hangar. They just had to board that ship. And they had to do it now.

“That he’s with the Empire. That-”

“He’ll contact them. Just you wait. He’ll be the downfall for us all.”

This time it was Warbren who spoke up. His eyes were alit with sudden anger, signalling he had not liked one single bit of what had been said. He might have been many things, some more than others; but he wasn’t, and was never going to be, a damned snitch. “Ehi, asshole! Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

“What the fuck ha-”

“Guys!” yelled Vindril. Well, so much for restoring the calm. “Why don’t we discuss these things on board of the ship? You know, as we escape from the Empire?”

Then Vindril thought of something. Something he immediately needed to know. “Because the ship is ready, yes? We’re not-”

“Of course it’s ready.” said Jarik. When Vindril’s questioning gaze met with his eyes, he frowned. “What? What do you take us for? A bunch of jackasses? We’re professionals. And the best in the whole system at that! Also, Yurian has never missed a delivery. Trust me. The ship is ready to fly.”

Vindril arched his brows. What about that thing? Was the A.I. also…

No point in asking any of that. After boarding, he was going to get an answer anyway, right?

“Good.” he said. “So, what’s it going to be? Are we going to fuck it all up here, or do we leave this shitty planet behind? What’s it going to be? Make up your minds.”

After some initial hesitation, everyone lowered their weapons. Sorin, being the lazy ass he was, felt the need to place the potential evolutions of such a decision all on Vindril’s shoulders. “Alright. But it’s your problem if it all goes down the drain.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Before Vindril could address Ar, they slowly made their way towards the ramp, which was just a few paces away. It seemed that their eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness in there. “…While I’m prone to believe he won’t try to do anything dumb, I’ll keep my eyes on him. I won’t let the Empire get their hands on me. You have my word.”

Vindril raised his hands. “Ehi, you do you. I’m going to be happy enough if we manage to leave Keelo Prime behind.”

Well, it wasn’t much. But it seemed now Vindril could take a sigh of relief. At least for the moment, peace was sort of restored. Now all that was left was to board the Silver Death, fire up her powerful engines, and leave it all behind. Easy, right?