The Crimson Hoard by Ian Makarov

The Joker and the Thief

She looked over her lover’s bare form as she peacefully slept, exhausted by their earlier frolics. From the tips of her elegant toes, the glistening skin, ebbing and flowing in graceful curves, the torrent of brown hair flowing over her shoulders and full breasts, and finally the cute pointy ears, sticking out from beneath the waves of hazel. It had been a wonderful two weeks they had spent together, cooped up and entangled in the luxurious penthouse cresting the gleaming golden spire for the most part, with occasional breaks of wandering around the busy streets and colorful open air markets of Adelon, the capital of this busy trade world on the fringes of the Morlencir Empire.

Once nothing more than a barren world, the elves had transformed it into a jewel of a planet, inviting all peoples and economic powers in the sector to trade and socialize on, partake in everything the Empire had to offer its neighbors and allies. This is how Raz, a woman of dubious repute and a certain notoriety had come to meet the lithe elven beauty who was now being carried off to the land of dreams. It was no accident, of course, no matter how much she had made it seem like one, when she literally bumped into the beautiful Callithea, almost knocking her off her feet. After profusely apologizing, Raz had offered to somehow make it up to her for her clumsiness, which led to the two of them sharing a delightfully frozen Somnian sorbet on a bench with a view, followed by a whole fortnight of carefree hijinks and passionate entanglements.

Raz sat on the bed softly next to her lover, then slowly, almost longingly ran her fingers through Callithea’s hazel locks. In response, she groaned softly then shifted her position, almost sinking in the silken sheets. Raz sighed. She would miss the delightful elf. She might have been her mark, but Raz had to admit to herself she hadn’t felt this relaxed and carefree in a long time. She almost regretted deceiving Callithea, elves were, after all, well-meaning folk, always willing to see the best in others, help them realize their potential. What Raz was after, however, was something she’d dreamed of as long as she could remember.

She stood up after making sure Callithea was fast asleep, and moved towards the couch where they had started this evening’s festivities, not bothering to dress. Passing by the holomirror, the device activated by her proximity. She looked at herself, without her usual layers. It was a rare glimpse these days, she thought, as she turned in place slightly, as if checking that everything still was where it was supposed to be. Her killer curves, budding hips and full breasts almost looked better than she remembered. Her long legs crossed, then she went on her toe tips, studying the muscles changing shape underneath her skin. She had spent way too much time in space, almost hated the pallid hue of her skin, punctuated here and there by old scars, souvenirs of her escapades. The sun over Adelon had at least added a little touch of rosiness to her cheeks, made them look a little better, framed as they were by a long mane of bright red hair, contrasting her jade eyes, which seemed to glow softly in the apartment’s soft lighting. Enough admiring, she thought to herself. She was here for a purpose.

She went to the cozy little couch, recessed in the opulent marble alcove of the two-tiered floor and put her hand between the cushions, draped with her scattered clothes, rummaging until she found her trusty beltpack. It was a small, weathered, almost scruffy looking square bundle of old leather, barely enough to hold essentials, but she didn’t need much for this next part. She popped the clasp open, pulling out a device that looked like a thick, angular eyepatch and a small, transparent datapad. She placed the eyepatch over her left eye, and looked around as it booted up, projecting an augmented reality display in her field of vision, then checked the datapad. A few seconds went by and the devices synced. She looked around for the now empty glasses they’d used earlier. Only one was on the short table. She lifted it up and held it in front of the eyepatch, which started scanning the surface for prints. Nope. That was hers. She went down on all fours, looking around the feet of the table. A deep blue stain on the thick white carpet pointed her to her quarry. Next to it, lay Callithea’s glass. She picked it up carefully, only touching the top and bottom and scanned it. Sure enough, the device picked up enough partials to recreate a full set of prints. She transferred it to the datapad.

Next she went into Callithea’s office, scanning the walls. The hidden compartment wasn’t too hard to find. She held the datapad up next to it, transmitting her biometrics. Prints, DNA, voice imprints she had secretly recorded, even hi-res iris scans she’d made when pretending to take selfies with the beautiful elf. All combined into a spoofed biometric signature, transmitted via radio to the hidden receivers within the wall.

A few seconds went by. Then the compartment hissed slightly, and a large drawer slid out of the wall. Inside, covered by coolant vapors, five cubes in matte black, sat neatly arranged.

“Oh, you’re good, girl.” She whispered to herself. A tingle of excitement ran up her spine.

She’d just done what everyone said was impossible. She’d stolen a Morlenciri cysuit. Ubiquitous in the Empire, but virtually unattainable to outsiders, due to their hyper-advanced integrated security systems. It had taken her over a year to wrap her head around Imperial security protocols, then another year putting together the tech and software to bypass them. The only thing missing was an elven set of biometrics, and Callithea didn’t just possess any set. As the head of the sector’s exploration corps, she had access to cysuits with just the configuration Raz needed. She was a pretty damn good thief, but with that suit, she would become legendary.

If she got the hacks right, that is. If she didn’t, then the cysuit would sniff her out as a fraud, the moment it bonded with her. At best, she’d be walked into the nearest authorities and turned over. At worst, the suit would outright kill her. Her hand hovered over one of the cubes, as she held her breath. She’d come this far. Feeling her heart pounding in her ears, she picked the cube up and held it. Glowing blue lines started crisscrossing the satin black surface. Then the cube started deforming, its sharp edges softened. It looked like it was melting, as the nanites comprising it enveloped her hand and started spreading down her forearm. The sensation was strange. Weird, like being engulfed in the softest silk ever made, after it’d just been freshly pressed. Her pulse quickened. Her breath shortened. As the silky black mass slowly covered more and more of her exposed skin, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. A soft moan escaped her lips, surprising her. Here she was in the middle of a heist, trying to stay focused, but the nanites distracted her, the last thing she expected were these rapturous sensations spreading all over her body. As the nanites started covering every inch of her, she slumped to the floor, trying to keep quiet, surrendering to the sensation. Orgasmic waves shot across her spine again and again, in rapid succession. Her body shuddered, helpless to resist. She felt herself sinking. Pulled into a blissful abyss, as if she were suddenly too tired, or perhaps too ecstatic, fully enclosed in her nanotech cocoon. For a split second she thought how she wasn’t having trouble breathing with the suit covering her completely. Only for a split second. Then she surrendered to the sweet oblivion of its embrace, totally isolated from the world around her, her senses and the constant noise they fed her mind with already silenced, her consciousness drifted off into blackness.

==][==

Spark sighed as he materialized into the virtual space of I/O Node 3358. Its default appearance was that of a busy spaceport, but any of the thousands of AIs coming and going could apply their preferred skin over it, choosing to view it as a forest, or a fishing wharf, or anything else they could imagine. He couldn’t be bothered. The trip he had just returned from, inhabiting an entertainment chassis at a Sylir’s ball had turned out to be a real snoozefest. He’d been everywhere in the Empire. From the dyson server clusters of Marlkion V, to various vehicles, droid chassis and ships in realspace. Not that it wasn’t interesting seeing the Empire in all its facets, but pretty soon all the places he could visit both in cyberspace and realspace started feeling more or less samey. Safe, orderly, well-looked-after, as was the Morlenciri way. His wanderlust was slowly turning into despair. Sure, as one of the Empire’s synthetic citizens he could hitch a ride onto one of the ships trawling the periphery, beyond the borders, but such opportunities were highly coveted among his kind, for being immortal and virtually incorruptible, the only real values they recognized were knowledge and experience. And while there were still plenty of places within the Empire to visit, Spark knew exactly what to expect.

Exasperated, he let his default form dissolve into a glowing mist, not in the mood for appearances. Strangely, he found that taking on the image of something formless allowed him to think a lot more clearly, get in touch with his deeper desires. Condensing his consciousness, he collected himself and after a brief pause, he opened the directory of available upload destinations. All the settled planets in the Empire appeared before him as tiny dots on a huge grid. He then removed all but the border worlds, allowing the remaining systems to enlarge in view. He ordered them into a circular pattern then spun them rapidly, like a wheel of fortune none of them offered any attractive upload slots, all the exciting opportunities had been taken by other synths, as curious about the universe at large as he was. It looks like he might have to jump into an agromech, or a medbay diagnostics suite until something better came along. Or maybe he could just go back into the server clusters and hibernate for a few hundred cycles, who knows, he might just wake up to a wholly different Empire.

Suddenly, one of his search filters tugged at his mind. A new cysuit was being issued. Explorer corps! With no hesitation, he established the connection and dematerialized at once.

==][==

Raz regained consciousness on the office floor. Her ears were still buzzing, her entire body still tingling from the supernova of sensations bonding with the cysuit had unleashed in her. She breathed deeply. Looking at the ceiling, she could feel her vision sharper than before. She raised her hands to touch her face, but instead, all she could feel was a smooth surface, like a shield covering it. That must be the suit’s helmet, she thought. Funny, it didn’t feel like she was wearing anything on her head, although that might just be an aftereffect of the sensory overload, coupled with the unobstructed vision the helmet offered. She looked at her fingers. Covered in silky black with golden accents running across the back of her hands, thin, glowing light blue lines starting at her wrists and running down her arms. She stood up, still shaky, using the dark wooden desk to support her trembling knees. Leaning against it, she brought her hands to the sides of the helmet, trying to pull it off. It didn’t budge. It wasn’t uncomfortable or stifling, but the feeling of complete enclosure started to scare her a little. She struggled with it.

“Come off, come off!” She thought, and suddenly, the seal in her neck gave way and the helmet came loose in her hands, releasing a torrent of red hair, flowing down her shoulders. She looked down at it. A smooth, almost featureless design, with bright blue sensor lines, just like the ones accentuating the rest of the suit. Elegant in its simplicity. Noticing how her thoughts made the helmet release, she concentrated on the thought of putting it away. The helmet responded instantly, dissolving in two halves, which got absorbed into her hands. The stories were right. This suit was amazing.

Carefully, she approached the door to the office, looking across the open plan penthouse towards the bed. Callithea was still soundly asleep, as she had left her. Raz wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious and not wanting to risk her waking up, decided it was time to go. She took one last moment to look at her, smiling faintly at the recollection of their time together. Part of her wished she could stay.

“I’m sorry…” She whispered silently and turned towards the exit. As she went, she passed by the holomirror again, doing a double take to appreciate what she was seeing. The black suit hugged and conformed to the contours of her body perfectly, accentuating her already striking figure. Adorned with glowing light blue lines that pulsed softly and golden metal plating on her shoulders, thighs and knees, as well as a golden belt and various other details in the same color, the suit was a thing of beauty. Smiling at her reflection, she brought her long hair forward, hiding her ears to avoid raising suspicion. Satisfied, she picked up her remaining belongings and left the apartment.

“Where do you think you’re going with that?” a male voice spoke inside her head the moment the penthouse door slid closed behind her.

“What the…! Who’s that?” She spoke startled.

“It’s your conscience, of course, who else?” the voice replied sarcastically.

“Very funny.” She said, continuing to move down the hallway.

“You need to stop what you’re doing, right now.”

“Sure I do.” She dismissed him with a chuckle.

“No, seriously, you need to stop right now, Raz Webb.” He said with a tone of urgency.

Raz froze mid-step at the sound of her name, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Listen to me carefully.” He continued. “I know you think you’re in control here, that your amateurish hacks and spoofed biometrics have fooled the system, but the moment you step foot in that elevator over there, you’re going to be marched straight into a security station. Your behavior was flagged just as you exited the apartment. The system servers are authenticating your access privileges as we speak.”

“What? How? Who are you? How are you speaking to me? Get out of my head!” She demanded.

“By the Talam, I thought humans were smart. The name’s Spark. I’m a synth. You’re a thief. You’re also lucky I decided to hitch a ride in that suit you stole.”

“How do you know all this?” Raz was intrigued.

“You think the cysuit is just a shell. Something you put on and take off at will, like some sort of crude armor or clothing. You couldn’t be more wrong. The suit is a symbiotic nanite colony. It doesn’t just surround you. It bonds with you, your brain, your organs, it feeds off your body’s excess energy. It can access your thoughts, your memories, everything you are, it knows. And it’s about to turn you in. Unless I help you.”

“So, you’re one of the Imperial AI constructs and you decided to upload yourself into the suit. You know what it knows. And you want to help me.” She pondered as the weight of her false assumptions started sinking in, her new acquaintance’s motives further prodding on her curiosity.

“Whew, I knew you’re smarter than you sound. Yes. I’m going to help you.” He said, relief painting the tone of his voice.

“Why?”

“Because you want to get out. Travel the stars. Chase legends and ghosts. Because despite the low opinion you might hold about yourself, you seem like a decent person. For a human, at least. And because I want to see what the universe looks like outside the Empire.”

“Wait. You’re going to help me steal this suit, the elves’ most closely guarded tech just to hitch a ride with me?” She asked in disbelief, although her instincts, perhaps due to her bonding to the very suit he was inhabiting, told her he was being sincere.

“Yes. I can sweet talk the system’s eye away from you, and in return, you take me with you.” He concluded.

Raz thought over it for a second. It didn’t look like she had much choice. She could either take the motormouth AI with her, or she could take her chances in an imperial prison. Besides, she’d been on her own for so long that a little company might not hurt after all.

“Fine.” She sighed, finally. “But you and I need to establish some boundaries, mister.”

“I’m listening.”

“First of all, no more mind-reading. There are things that I’d like to keep to myself.”

“Too late for that, but sure.”

Raz rolled her eyes, then continued.

“Second, you’re not to prevent me from chasing my goals or interfere with what I do.”

“As long as said goals pose no threat to the Empire and its citizens, knock yourself out. I’m not going to stop you.”

“And third, less talking. You might be along for the ride, but if you chew my ear off, I might just opt to jump into a star to have some peace and quiet.”

“No unnecessary talk. You have my word. Synth’s honor. Sure thing. A-OK. You’ve got it. You’re the boss. I’ll just be here. Watching. Silently. Like a grave.”

“Spark…”

“Sorry, just got excited. I can tell, this is gonna be great. You and me, that is. Travelling the stars, getting into trouble. Oooh, I can’t wait.”

“Spark, are we good to go?” She hissed through her clenched teeth.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I took care of security, we’re good.”

“Right, off we go, then.” She said and approached the elevator. A humming sound emanated from behind the doors, and a few seconds later, they slid open silently. She walked in and selected the ground floor on the holopanel, then stood back, waiting, looking out into the city sprawled beneath the elevator’s transparent canopy, almost lost in thought.

“Oh, and for the record, thief.” Spark chimed in.

“Hmm?” She was torn away from her thoughts. “What?”

“You’re not stealing me. I’m stealing you.”

Escape from Ang'Narr

Raz ran up her ship’s ramp, dropping the large switch as she raced past it. A klaxon blared and red pulsing lights announced the ramp was closing, as shots ricocheted off the opening. Not slowing her pace, she ran through the cargo hold, dodging crates and footlockers as she went, then almost dove through the door to the narrow corridor as more of Durka’s goons showed up outside the raising ramp and fired as many shots as they could manage before the hull sealed.

“I told you, stealth mode would drain the power reserves quicker than you thought! I mean, you go through all the trouble of stealing a cysuit for this job, then refuse to listen to the only person in the room who actually knows a thing or two about it.” Spark commented in the most nonchalant tone, but Raz could feel the smugness oozing from every word.

She got up to her feet and took three large strides through the next door and into the cockpit, jumping into the pilot’s seat and flipping a series of switches. Lights came on, instruments lit up and a pair of crackling bangs reverberated through the ship’s hull, replaced by a low hum that was rapidly rising in pitch, as the engines started up.

“Those guards weren’t supposed to loiter there that long! I timed their last three patrols!” She snapped back.

“Well, never underestimate the power of defending a tall claim, combined with the boredom of a repetitive task.” Spark sighed, then his tone changed. “Do you really think he wrestled a Talzar, though?”

“What, him? No way. Have you seen a Talzar? They’re massive.” She chuckled as she pulled a lever, then flipped two more knobs.

Shots rang, projectiles bouncing off the cockpit’s large armored windows. Blaring alarms started echoing through the cavernous hangar, the lighting changing into emergency yellow with pulsing beacons bathing it in alternating sheets of red.

“Can’t your bucket start any faster?” Spark asked uneasy. “They’re about to seal us in!”

“Few more seconds, don’t get your bytes in a twist.”

“I wonder why they call him ‘Durka The Eviscerator’. Do you think that’s what he’ll do to you when his crew catches you? And I mean you, as I’ll probably be fine, so long as they don’t toss you into a volcano.”

“It’s just pirate nonsense, shit they come up with to look tough.” She dismissed him. “Plus, nobody’s getting tossed into a volcano! We’re out of here!” she added with annoyance, grabbing the controls as the ship lifted off the deck and guiding it towards the gaping hangar doors which were already closing, but not nearly fast enough.

Narrowly missing half a dozen other parked ships of various shapes and origins, Raz opened up the thrust, shooting for the exit as other ships powered up to pursue.

Once through the force field and into the blackness of space, Raz pitched the ship sharply upwards and cut her speed, staying close to the surface of the planetoid, which had been hollowed out and turned into a pirate haven generations ago, flying towards the exposed structure at the top.

“Shouldn’t we be heading the other way? As in, away from the pirate lair?” Spark asked.

“We do that, and the perimeter guns will tear us to shreds before long. Besides, the warp route is in the opposite direction. The guns won’t fire in the vicinity of the base, so we’ll be safe until the nav computer has plotted our course.” She replied, as they approached the massive base sitting on top of the planetoid, which looked more like an ancient gothic castle, spires and battlements built out of dark hyperalloys, imbuing the whole structure with a sinister aura as it caught the light of the system’s distant green star. The legendary pirates of old sure had a taste for the dramatic, she thought to herself as she weaved through spires and flying buttresses.

“Eugh, warp travel…” Spark blurted out with disdain. “So uncivilized.”

“Well, we don’t all have the luxury of Imperial jump drives out here in the sticks.”

“I guess a Morlenciri vessel would attract too much attention among these characters. I’m actually surprised half the ships in that hangar can even travel interstellar distances. Just like your heap. I expect us to get spaced any second now.”

“You take that back! The Maven is my first ship! I’ve flown her since I was old enough to reach the controls.”

“She’s going to be your only ship if you don’t do something about them!” He said drawing a bright square in her field of vision, around the combat sensor screen, which showed three glowing red triangles closing in from behind them.

Bright red beams of lethal light shot past the cockpit windows. Raz continued maneuvering aggressively, trying to evade, but seconds later the ship shook from taken fire. Alarms shrieked as warning triangles popped up on her screens. Pulling back on the throttle, she banked sharply behind the next spire, going around it full circle and coming up behind one of the attacking ships. She lined up the targeting reticle projected on the heads-up display and squeezed the trigger on the joystick in her right hand. The Maven’s Arclight heavy lasers erupted in a pair of blue continuous beams, tearing clean through the pirate interceptor, which almost immediately went into an uncontrolled spin, sparks and plumes of escaping gas shooting out of its deep wounds. Throttling up to keep the other two on her tail at bay, Raz rolled left to avoid the disabled ship, but not cleanly, as a dull thud and short scraping sound echoed through the hull.

“Talam’s grace, be careful, woman! You’ll end up dead and I’ll end up floating in space for all eternity! We’re way too far outside Imperial network coverage!”

“Ah! Stop moaning! A few more seconds and we’ll be out of here!” She shouted, glancing at the nav screen’s progress bar, which was rapidly filling.

“A lot can happen in a few seconds!” He said anxiously as more shots landed on the Maven, prompting a shower of sparks and a small fire in the cockpit.

A cheerful beep came from the nav screen, among the cacophony of alarms. The progress bar was full and rapidly flashing green. Raz reached up above her head, grabbing a chunky lever.

“Here we go!” She shouted and pulled the lever back with a swift, smooth motion.

Space distorted around them, all outside light blue-shifted, and with a kick that made Raz’s stomach churn, the Maven jumped into the safety of warp speed. Letting go of the controls, she picked up a small fire extinguisher from under her seat, dousing the flames on the copilot’s side of the cockpit. Alarms and sirens died down, several red spots still blinking on the ship status screen.

She went back to her seat and laid back, catching her breath.

“Right, let’s see this trinket of yours, then.” Spark appeared in her field of vision leaning over her, his form vaguely humanoid, male with spiky hair, defined by a glowing light blue outline, almost featureless, save for his eyes and mouth, which were also glowy light blue.

Raz smirked and took the satchel strapped over her shoulder, laying it flat on the copilot seat next to her. From inside, she pulled out a golden segmented disk the size of her palm, adorned with pirate insignia and circled by writing in some alien language around its edges. Spark floated around to the other side and leaned over it, looking at it closely, as small clusters of nanites separated from Raz’s fingers and ran over its surface.

“This?” He said finally. “This, worthless piece of junk is why Durka wants your entrails for garters? Not to mention we had to spend almost three months around those filthy animals to get it. Talam, I think I can still smell them! I mean, this isn’t even solid tornium! It’s plated!”

“C’mon Sparky, where’s your imagination?” Raz chuckled. “Do you really think I’d go through all this trouble to grab just this? Even if it was made out of solid tornium, a chunk this size would barely cover expenses for a few months. No, the value of this object isn’t the material. It’s the information.”

“Go on.” He egged her on, floating mid-air with his legs crossed, elbows on knees and chin on his hands, like a child getting excited for story time.

“See, as far as pirates go, Durka The Eviscerator is only the latest to rule the pirate haven of Ang'Narr, and little more than a common thug. Ang’Narr was built twelve generations ago, by the first true pirate king, Silas The Crimson.”

“A fairytale. Historical evidence shows that Silas was a compound figure, a folk hero cobbled together from the deeds of several notorious pirates of the time.” Spark scoffed.

“No, no. Silas’ name might be steeped in hearsay and tall tales, but he did exist. Long before the Morlencir Empire expanded to these parts, the sector was ruled by the Ashlan Commonwealth, a rich and prosperous interstellar power encompassing hundreds of systems. When it collapsed in a series of coups and countercoups, various regional leaders and generals immediately declared themselves as the rightful successors, igniting a civil war that lasted almost two centuries. Really brutal business, I mean entire planets glassed, fleets annihilated, debris fields covering whole systems. And in that chaos, Silas, a navy commander gathered a few of his fellow captains and struck out on their own, preying on the would-be successors and their sad little fiefdoms, establishing a completely independent pirate colony in Ang’Narr.”

“So, what about the disc? How is this relevant?”

“I’m getting to that. Now, the civil war eventually destroyed all that remained of the old Commonwealth. In their folly, one after the other, the successor states were annihilated, and those that survived imploded by their overextension or fell to angered populations. One or two might actually still be around, desperately clinging to a handful of systems. Needless to say that it was a golden age for captains who were either sick of being their master’s cannon fodder or daring enough to take on a life of piracy. And most of them rallied under The Crimson’s banner. In the span of decades, Silas amassed unimaginable wealth and resources. Most of it he redistributed to planets teetering on the brink, helping them rebuild and defend, but he himself also became obscenely rich by the time he died. Only, when his heirs cracked open his vaults, they found absolutely nothing. Somehow, Silas moved his huge hoard completely undetected under everyone’s nose, hid it who-knows-where.”

“Oh, boy, you’re chasing that story.” Spark sighed and rolled his eyes, visibly bored. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but all legends of the Crimson’s hoard end with the same sentence: He never left any clues to where he hid his treasure.”

“Not true.” It was Raz’s turn to flash a mischievous smile. She punched up a code in her keyboard and one of the holoscreens expanded, showing a portrait of a well-built man in extravagant pirate regalia, a large old-fashioned tricorner hat with feathers, and a crimson cape covering his left shoulder, held in place by a round, golden brooch. “See this?”

“The resolution is terrible, but it looks like your trinket.”

“Indeed, this is Silas’ brooch. After his heirs turned his private quarters in the base and on his ship inside out looking for clues, they raided his grave. This piece, along with many of his personal belongings, made its way through several private collections and vaults before somehow finding its way back to Ang’Narr.”

“And what makes you think this is a clue?” Spark cocked an eyebrow.

“Look at the writing on the periphery. Recognise the language?”

“It’s one of several ancient languages in the region. I’m fairly certain it’s from a long dead species called Laxhit. The first part reads: Life on the apex of glory. The rest of the markings haven’t been deciphered as of yet.”

“Life on the apex of glory. That was the Crimson’s motto. What most people don’t know is that Silas was an avid amateur archeologist. He left his studies behind to join the navy when the Commonwealth started collapsing, but he indulged at least one visit to every ancient site he could make time for, wherever he was posted. He had a particular fascination with the Laxhit and spent quite a bit of time among the ruins on their home planet, Laxor Prime.”

“And how do you know? Most historians don’t even have enough evidence to prove the man actually existed and you know where his favorite ruins are? How?” Spark floated around back and forth, his tone annoyed by the absurdity of her claims.

“What drove Silas to piracy?” Raz enjoying finally seeing him squirm because she knew something that he didn’t, answered his question with her own.

“He was disgusted by his orders in the civil war.” Spark said, recalling the common thread of every story surrounding the legendary pirate.

“More precisely, he was ordered into an indefensible position during battle, leading to the needless deaths of most of his crew. It was only due to his strategic brilliance that some of them made it out at all, while by the end, his ship, the fabled Icedrake had been badly damaged and had to be left behind.”

A sudden realization hit Spark. His glowing eyes lit up brighter, widening, his mouth agape.

“You didn’t!” He said in disbelief.

“No, not me. One of the people who raised me spent most of his life picking through the debris of the thousands of battles of the Commonwealth civil war. He found the Icedrake, battered and beaten, her hull split right down the middle, the two halves floating not far from each other. And in the captain’s quarters, he found Silas’ personal journal, full of his musings and ramblings, his passions, his thoughts on the war, everything.” Raz beamed, her green eyes glowing softly with excitement.

“So, you think that The Crimson’s hoard is on Laxor Prime?”

“I couldn’t be sure, I had to see the brooch up close. But it all lines up. It makes sense, Spark. Think about it, it’s an uninhabited planet with no significant resources, far off the major trade routes. Every colonization attempt failed before it could take root and when the Commonwealth collapsed nobody even gave it a second thought. Silas knew the planet, and he knew nobody was interested in it. Perfectly secluded, ideal to hide a vast amount of treasure.”

“When are we going?” He asked with renewed enthusiasm.

Raz smiled and nodded towards the nav display, on which a countdown of a few hours was steadily depleting.

“As a matter of fact, we’re already on the way.”

==][==

She tried to sleep in vain. Her excitement was palpable. She’d been dreaming of finding the mythical riches of Silas since old Tureeck had told her the tale when she was nothing but one of the little runts the Red Claw Gang had taken in, to use as spies, invisible eyes and ears. Children of all species were ideal for subtle intel gathering, more efficient than drones, more inconspicuous than bots. The gang put them to good use, and looked after them well. Most of them, having known no other life than thieving and swindling, joined the gang when they were older. Raz was one of those street urchins, and Tureeck and the rest of the Claws had been her family for longer than she cared to remember.

Spark had promised to keep quiet for a few hours so she could rest, but the gravity of what she was going after, mixed with bittersweet memories of the Claws didn’t leave her enough peace of mind to manage that.

Suddenly, an alarm went off, dragging her back to full awareness. She knocked twice on the wall of her cramped sleeping pod and the side slid downwards, revealing the narrow connecting corridor. Shaking off the tiredness, she lifted her feet out of the bed and stumbled through the adjacent door back into the cockpit.

The Maven was still in warp, and nothing seemed to have changed since a few hours earlier when she decided to get some rest, apart from a large red warning triangle flashing on the ship status screen, coupled with a loud alarm.

“Alright, Spark. Tell me what we’re dealing with here.” With a thought, a small universal jack formed from one of her fingertips, allowing the synth to connect to the far less advanced Maven’s main console.

“Hmm, let’s see.” Spark said, ever present and never resting. “Well, surprisingly, the old bucket is still mostly here. Engines, life support, warp drive. There’s a small coolant leak but nothing that can’t be patched. Long range missiles are offline, and that stupid black market hyperspace comm unit you bought on Illustra has shorted out again. Several slagged armor plates, a missing gimbal and, oooh…”

“Oooh?” Raz asked concerned.

“One of the hits during the escape glanced the housing of power cell two. The zero point containment field is about to fail.”

“Can’t we just…”

At that moment, the ship started to shudder and shake, prompting Raz to jump into her seat and strap in.

“Talk to me, Spark! What’s going on?”

“Cell two is gone. Warp drive is shutting down, we’re falling out of warp.”

Suddenly, with what felt like a stomach-churning deceleration, the Maven came out of warp, the blue-shifted luminous warp bubble dissipated. The ship went quiet, save for the sound of the engines winding down. Lights went out one after the other, then all the screens and cockpit instruments. For a few seconds, Raz remained in absolute darkness. Then the emergency lighting, a soft amber color flooded the cockpit, providing just enough light for one to find their way around or do basic tasks.

“Spark?” She called out almost whispering, caught off guard by the total shutdown of her ship.

“I have good news and bad news.” He said calmly.

“Good news first.” She said, trying the power-up switches in vain.

“Good news is we’re just beyond the edge of the Laxor system.”

“And the bad news?”

“We’re not going any further than that. She’s dead in the water.”