Ch. 19 Near and Far

Ralios jolted awake, his heart pounding fiercely against his chest. He took in ragged, heavy breaths as he frantically scanned the dimly lit cockpit of the Tailwind. Panic coursed through his veins as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, disoriented by the sudden transition from the haunting dream to the harsh reality.

Gradually, as his racing heartbeat began to slow, Ralios managed to regain his composure. He wiped the lingering dread from his face with trembling hands and took a series of deep, calming breaths. The physical sensations of the dream faded, but the vivid imagery and unearthly experience continued to linger in his mind.

In the stillness that followed, V.A.N.D.E.L. spoke, its dry voice cutting through the residual unease. "Are you well, Ralios?"

With a shaky nod, Ralios replied, "Yeah... just had an odd dream." He ran his fingers through his disheveled feathers, trying to shake off the lingering sense of foreboding.

In an effort to anchor himself back to reality, Ralios turned his attention to the ship's control panel. He pulled up the navigation screen and muttered to himself, "How long have we been in Ember space?"

V.A.N.D.E.L. responded promptly, displaying the digital readout on the main display. "14 minutes and 35 seconds," the AI stated matter-of-factly.

Brows furrowing as he looked at the time elapsed, Ralios couldn't shake the feeling he had been asleep and in that labyrinth for much longer than 14 minutes. He rubbed his temples, still grappling with the eerie memory.

"Okay," Ralios said after a moment, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm gonna stay up. Could you dig more into what warship that was? Just so we know what's chasing us."

As Ralios leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting away from the unsettling dream and into the comforting embrace of the mesmerizing Ember space, he couldn't help but find solace in the kaleidoscope of colors and lights that surrounded the Tailwind. The ship appeared to be cocooned within a golden-white glow, resembling a vessel engulfed in celestial flames.

Beyond the ship's shimmering barrier, the cosmos unfolded in a dazzling display of stars, planets, and celestial bodies. They whizzed by in a chaotic ballet, their positions blurred and smeared by the ship's incredible speed. Creating a vast sea of colors and darkness, as if the magnetic poles of a galaxy-sized planet were shifting before him, creating a technicolor Aurora. It was a breathtaking spectacle, a symphony of colors and lights that danced in harmonious disarray.

For Ralios, this cosmic display held a peculiar beauty. It was a place where the Arvandar Empire had asserted its dominance, its discovery turning a once-desperate colony world into a militaristic powerhouse. In the vast expanse of space, Aelorians were a solitary spark of sentient life, and yet they remained divided among countless families, factions, and worlds, all vying for power.

Amidst this backdrop of cosmic politics and turmoil, Ralios found his niche – smuggling, staying beneath the radar of imperial ships and their intricate power struggles. It was a precarious existence, but one that allowed him to navigate the cosmos on his own terms, seeking answers to the mysteries that had drawn him into the labyrinth of the stars.

As he gazed at the celestial tapestry, V.A.N.D.E.L. diligently sifted through various sources for information about the warship they had encountered. Ralios hoped that by uncovering more about their pursuers, he might find some distraction from the disturbing dream that still lingered in his mind.

As Ralios contemplated the cosmic spectacle, V.A.N.D.E.L. returned with information about the warship and its commanding noble. The AI's dry tone filled the cockpit with details.

"The warship is a sleek design, marked by the emblem of House Valorian," V.A.N.D.E.L. began. "It's a smaller cruiser model favored for its agility and speed, equipped with a formidable arsenal of energy weapons and shielding technology. This particular vessel bears the name 'Valor's Resolve.'"

"House Valorian," V.A.N.D.E.L. continued, "hailed from the planet Sylvaria, a world renowned for its abundant ore deposits. The Valorian family had a long history of mining and ore exportation, gaining a reputation for their business acumen and control over valuable resources. They were known for playing a significant role in the supply chain of essential materials, both within and outside the borders of the Arvandar Empire."

"The current head of House Valorian was Lord Cassius Valorian. He was a shrewd and ambitious noble, often involved in imperial politics to secure favorable trade deals and expand the family's influence. House Valorian's impressive wealth and connections made them a force to be reckoned with, not only in the mining industry but also in the intricate web of imperial power dynamics."

Ralios absorbed this information, his thoughts drifting toward the implications of crossing paths with a noble of such stature in the Empire.

Ralios pondered aloud, his voice reflecting his intrigue, "What in the moons would some mining noble want with a tablet like this?"

V.A.N.D.E.L., as ever, remained pragmatic. "The tablet's purpose remains uncertain," it replied. "Its design does not correspond to any known Sylvarian cultural iconography."

A sudden thought gripped Ralios, and he voiced it with growing curiosity, "Are there any active imperial Containment sites on Sylvaria?"

After a brief pause, V.A.N.D.E.L. responded, "Indeed, there is an active Containment site located on an ocean platform 642 miles off Sylvaria's world capital."

Ralios leaned back in his seat, his expression shifting from curiosity to conviction. "Alright, this starts to make sense now. The tablet was likely stolen from this noble's world, and I'd wager that the rest of the Empire remains blissfully unaware. House Valorian is probably attempting to recover it discreetly before word gets out and their reputation suffers."

The AI's dry tone chimed in again, "Your hypothesis is speculative, but it carries weight."

Ralios, unflinching, replied with a wry grin, "Trust me, V.A.N.D.E.L., when it comes to the politics of these noble families, saving face often trumps all else."

Ralios settled back into the cockpit seat, the soft hum of the Tailwind's systems creating a soothing background. With a contented sigh, he muttered to the AI, "I'm gonna relax and do some reading, sound off when we're 5 minutes from the Veil."

In his metallic voice, V.A.N.D.E.L. replied with a simple, "Understood."

With that, Ralios picked up a small tablet-like device from the console, its screen illuminating his features with a soft, ambient glow. He navigated through his digital library, his finger lightly tapping the screen until he found the book he sought.

Somewhere else in the vast expanse of space, far removed from the serenity of Ralios's cockpit, an Aelorian man sat in a starkly different environment. Chained to a brutal metal chair, his once-vibrant red feathers were now matted with blood and scattered around him like fallen leaves. The dull, flickering light above cast eerie shadows that danced across his battered and beaten frame.

Bruises adorned his face, and fresh wounds marked his skin. The room was oppressively silent, except for the low, monotonous hum of the ship, the constant reminder of the new reality he found himself in. With a slumped posture, he stared down at the cold, unforgiving metal floor of the holding cell, his thoughts obscured by pain and uncertainty, his future hanging in the balance.

With a loud hissing sound, the door opposite the captive opened quickly, and a large figure stepped into the holding cell. Adorning the figure's coat was a pin insignia, a General of the Shattered Talon. The figure quickly crossed the room, coming under the harsh light and getting uncomfortably close to the bound Aelorian.

The bound man flinched at the domios of sudden movements, sounds, and figure in front of him, whom he had gotten to know well over the last couple of days.

The Shattered Talon general was known as General Zephyros. He was an imposing figure, even among the Aelorian rebels. His plumage was a striking blend of deep crimson and obsidian black, reminiscent of a fiery sunset. Zephyros wore a long, tattered cloak made from the feathers of a rare and fierce avian species native to one of the outer worlds. His eyes, a piercing shade of amber, seemed to flicker with constant intensity.

As he neared the battered captive, his voice carried an air of authority mixed with a touch of menace. "We've been at this for three days, and you still won't tell us where they're holding Albanza," he declared, his sharp beak inches from the bound man's face.

The captive flinched and felt a profound sense of discomfort in Zephyros's presence. An almost parental tone crept into his voice, "You better tell us something useful soon."

Zephyros leaned in closer, his grip on the back of the man's head tightening. "I have no qualms if you don't, though. I do enjoy launching things out of the airlock while in Emberspace."

Panic filled the captive's eyes, and he blurted out, "I told you, I don't know where they're keeping your friend; I swear on everything."

Zephyros paused, a satisfied glint in his amber eyes, as he grabbed the back of the chair and began dragging it toward the exit of the holding room. But before he could reach the door, the captive cried out, "Wait, wait, wait! I know something!"

The general halted, his grip still firm on the chair. "It's not about your friend," the captive continued, "but I know why the Empire's in a tizzy right now."

Intrigued, Zephyros leaned in, his beak mere inches from the bound Aelorian. "Do tell," he urged.

The captive hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Apparently, they think they've found sentient life on some paradisium world, but they're really spooked about it."

General Zephyros regarded the bound Aelorian with a curious expression, his mind already working on how this newfound information could be used to further the rebellion's cause.

He couldn't hide a dark smile as he processed the information provided by the captive. He knelt down, his imposing presence casting a looming shadow over the bound Aelorian. "Well, that is something," he mused, his amber eyes glittering with intrigue.

His voice took on a sinister edge as he continued, "Let's see if you can show us where these new friends are." The captive could feel the weight of the general's words, and a shiver of fear ran down his spine. He had just unwittingly become a pawn in the Shattered Talon's plans, and the consequences were bound to be dire.