CHAPTER SIX

The screech of the workshop door jolted Soran from his slumber. He cursed himself in a hushed insult, furious at allowing himself to drift off. Bathing everything in an azure hue, the tranquil night lighting lulled the station residents to sleep. Soran found it creepy. The shadows that prowled through the oceanic glow had scared him as a child and still did a little to this day. It didn't take him long to recognize the muffled sound of people entering the workshop. He shimmied down into the foot-well of the ship and picked up on what sounded like a conversation. They were looking for something. No, someone.

Although unable to make out exactly what they were discussing, he discerned from their bickering that they were in a hurry. Soran winced at the crash of fallen tools. Benches toppled as their search intensified, leaving a trail of destruction behind them. The intruders were trashing the place, destroying Lanic's sanctuary, and what was to be Soran's inheritance. He'd had enough. He grabbed Lanic's wrench and jumped out of the cockpit, his boots thudding onto the paneled floor. Three shadowy figures spun around to face him. The room was too dark to make out their faces, their features obscured by gloom. All he could detect was their silhouettes, back-lit by the reposeful glow behind them. A tall man stood in the center. The bright embers of a cigar illuminated a coarse beard that covered his prominent chin. The shadow of his heavy brow buried his eyes in night. To his right stood a female. With a body sculpted of pleasing curves, her opalescent skin shimmered in the light like the surface of a moonlit pool. Eluding the veil of shadow were two large orbs peering out at him. A wink caught him off guard, and a pulse of heat raced down his spine. Soran noticed her slender frame was concealed by billowing overalls not dissimilar to his own. Although infatuated by the intruder's shape, his eyes were snatched to the corner of the room. There he was met with an altogether different form. A colossal creature that hulked over the couple's shoulders, a gurgled purr whistling from its throat. Plunged into its bulbous head was a pair of solid white eyes, so bright they pierced through the darkness. The creature blinked, and a second set of eyes appeared to the side of the first. Soran had to tighten his grip to avoid dropping the wrench in fear.

"Soran Valek?" asked the bearded intruder in a gravelly tone. It felt uncomfortable, hearing his name uttered from the mouth of a stranger.

"How do you know my name?" stammered Soran. Failing in his attempt to extinguish the fear from his voice.

"He doesn't look like much but, It's him. Grab him Tugg," said the smoking man as he departed from the workshop. The giant creature staggered towards Soran who at this point was frozen in place. Without so much as a warning, a rugged tangle of netting was thrust over his head, immediately constricting his body. The brutish monster hoisted the boy onto its back and a struggle ensued, its grip tightening to counter his pitiful writhing. Soran tried to yell, to scream for help, and hope that someone was listening. It didn't take him long to remember that Lanic had chosen this place for a reason. Not to be bothered. A peculiar smell began to emanate from the netting. Lean plumes of gas crept from the wires, wafting their way over his skin and into his gaping mouth. Soran gasped for air under the iron grasp of his captor but found himself falling in and out of consciousness.

His indifferent abductor hauled him from the workshop, traipsing behind his accomplices to the blurred outline of a ship. It blazed with shades of autumn. Brilliant hues of red and yellow mingled into a perfect sunset of color. The boy's eyelids flickered, defiant against the gas's call to slumber. Through fluttering eyelashes, he made out the vague shape of something painted onto the ship's hull. A sickled horseshoe crowned with eight points hovered over distinct lettering. Weathered by years of space travel and -- judging from the bullet holes that littered the metallic carapace -- more than her fair share of firefights. Through the frayed paint and less than professional artistry, Soran could derive a solitary word. Horizon. His body fell limp, the fumes overpowering him into a blissful coma. Boarding their ship, his captors made their preparations to depart the Hyacinth. After several minutes of bickering, the engines fired up with a satisfying purr and sapphire flames poured from the exhaust vents. Plated wings descended from the apex of the vessel, splitting apart into eight separate blades that surrounded the ship like a divine halo. She floated with aged grace through the abandoned tunnels until finally drifting free of the station's artificial atmosphere. With their mission complete and the unconscious apprentice in their possession, they accelerated to pulse, and out into the endless void of deep space.