CHAPTER TWO

Shockwaves reverberated through the primitive structure. The battle to regain control of the Hyacinth had begun. The hanger was an ocean of stumbling bodies, tripping over one another in clumsy attempts to still themselves. A shifting tide of engineering apparatus had created an unwelcome maze that made the task all the more difficult. Again, Soran felt the tight grip of his mentor as he attempted to stabilize them. A second and third burst of energy shook the room, each more vigorous than the last. Shipping containers, workbenches, and tools meandered through the hanger, each jolt prompting a violent convulsion. The bowels of the Hyacinth were alive with conflict and her roar was deafening.

Soran found himself lying prone on the ground. The cold, metal grating smothered his cheeks, doing him no favors in the cleanliness department. With each successive tremor, the source of the ruckus advanced ever closer. He attempted to still the violent shake of his hands but his fear had threaded itself into an inescapable snare. He had lived his life in relative peace until this moment. Getting a hard time from Foreman Zyre was about as tough as it got. A particularly unlucky day might involve an unsavory interaction with one of the station's more disreputable gangs. As unpleasant as those incidents were, never had he encountered a situation where he, and everyone he knew, might not make it out alive. Soran raised his head to a sea of whimpering station staff, all cradling their heads in fear. Recognizing familiar faces, he knew many of them would be fearing for the lives of their families as well as their own. Though Soran had never felt the warm embrace of family, he could empathize with their plight. For him, the thought of never seeing Lanic again was one he kept stored away, hidden in the dark with his other unpleasantries.

He composed himself, pushing back up to his feet and scouting the entrances for activity. The staff entrance through which they had entered was inaccessible, blocked with a mass of bent scaffold. Soran's attention switched to the main gate which lead deeper into the station. Dubbed the Garden Gate for the sculpted flowers that adorned its arched frame, it connected Hangar One to the core of the Hyacinth.

After several more tectonic bombardments, the parade of explosions ceased and the hanger fell quiet. Only the shrill whistle of swinging lights remained. The pistons that operated the Garden Gate began to release. A fountain of steam billowed out, followed by a chorus of clanging metal, the adjacent clasps springing open one by one. A tall woman with smoked grey hair powered through the gate, breaking open the misty curtain. Trailing behind her were two sharply dressed naval officers. Each wore a distinctive high necked white suit, split down the middle by two deep blue stripes. Their movements were precise, never straying as much as a single degree as they marched forward. Stepping in time with the woman, their rifles held at a perfect, unchanging angle. Four men emerged from the shadows of the officers. Bound in Magnachain, their palms were clasped under their chins. Advancing with a reluctant shuffle, the magnetic binds on their wrists and neck clung together with an immense force. Seeing pirates in the flesh for the first time was a disappointment, nothing at all like the stories Soran had been told. Tattered, scrawny, and malnourished, a pitiful illustration of villainy. A brain cell between them would be a surprise, never mind the wherewithal to invade a government-owned facility. The woman stopped before Foreman Zyre and forced the pirates to their knees.

"Your guests, Foreman," she said with an exasperated look on her face.

"Sorry to have inconvenienced you and your men Captain. This rabble looks like it could have been handled by the station security." Zyre adopted a subservient posture, staring downward in a desperate attempt to avoid the woman's stern gaze. Soran found this particularly amusing as seeing Zyre on the back foot was a rare experience. He looked over at Lanic and the two exchanged an eyebrow raise and a smug grin. The day had its silver lining after all.

"We will be taking them with us. The Hive is making preparations for their arrival as we speak," she said, glancing around at the sea of relieved faces. Soran was well versed in tales of the Hive, not to mention its two sister prisons. Colossal super-max facilities housing thousands of criminals. Each unique and uncompromising in its approach to 'rehabilitation'.

The Hive was the only facility of its kind, constructed by the inmates themselves. Discovered as a rogue asteroid, a grueling period of five hundred years had carved it into a labyrinth of tunnels and thick-walled cells. The mammoth task carried out under the watchful eyes of the Navy Admirals. Permitted only three hours of sleep each night, the prisoners would awake to blaring sirens and their arduous shift began anew; Toiling away at the almost impenetrable walls for scraps of Iridium and Platinum. Stopping for longer than a minute would result in repeated shocks administered through the restraints that bound their ankles, wrists, and neck. The life expectancy of the inmates was never long enough for a sentence to reach its conclusion. The Hive, therefore, had attained an infamous reputation. Never had a prisoner that landed on that hellish rock managed to see the back of it. All those that were handed a pick-axe were destined to die with it in their hands; The slip of the splintered handle the last thing their calloused fingers would feel. Lanic would often threaten to send Soran there as a child. His crimes varied from not finishing his chores to the accidental immolation of a Naval vessel. An imprint had been left on the boy and uttering the name was enough to wrack his bones with a ghastly shudder.

Stained with pity, his thoughts grew dark as he watched the men shamble toward that waking hell. Does anyone deserve such a fate? He pondered the question for a moment but concluded that he was in no position to answer. A flicker of movement caught Soran's attention, immediately taken back by what he saw. As they sauntered away, all four of the prisoners were grinning. Not the nervous grin of a condemned man, driven mad by an inescapable fate. It was glee. The front-most pirate pinned Soran with a hypnotic stare. His singular augmented eye flashed with menace, malice lurking beneath its crimson lens. Tilting his head backward, he slid his palms and fingers from under his chin to the sides of his head, exaggerating an already unnerving grin. Soran watched as the others emulated his motion, their heads craning back to reveal a hidden mark. Recently carved incisions adorned their flesh, the remnants of blood still smeared across their necks. At first glance, he was unable to make out the symbol, though he guessed at some form of pirate insignia. Through squinted eyes, he could make out what most closely resembled a cross carved deep into their flesh. He couldn't avert his gaze. What is this? he thought. Pirates were well known for being heavily modified. Machinogenetics, tattoos, and various Nano-material prosthetics replacing lost limbs were commonplace. This kind of bizarre tribal scarring was something he thought too primitive even for pirates. He looked up to his mentor who was also horrified by the display. Tension trembled through Lanic's lips. What he was witnessing held meaning, a history. Soran pulled at the scraps of cloth draped from his mentors tool-belt, hoping he could shed light on the spectacle. Lanic looked down, pausing for a few seconds before hesitantly whispering..."Talas"