Chapter 1455 Space Wreckage
Chapter 1455 Space Wreckage
Author's Note: Unedited Chapter
------------
The young man had the poised bearing of a seasoned leader despite his youth. His black dreadlocks were tied back neatly, accentuating sharp, tanned features that carried the weight of his responsibilities.
He was clad in a simple yet elegant robe that did not overshadow the three-headed dragon emblem embroidered in silver thread on his chest—a symbol of his family's heraldry and their fierce protectiveness over their domain.
Around him, guards in pristine white robes stand at attention. Their own robes bear the same three-headed dragon on the back, a symbol that is both a promise and a warning to all who might dare to challenge their family's rule.
At this moment, a figure dressed in the muted grays of a civilian administrator stands before Stark, delivering a report with a digital tablet in hand. The hall echoes softly with the rhythmic, unobtrusive sound of his voice.
"Family Head Stark, the trade negotiations with the Sled Central have concluded successfully. Additionally, the new energy harnessing project has surpassed all projected efficiency metrics."
Stark nods appreciatively, his eyes scanning a live data feed that plays out across a holographic display beside the throne. "Excellent. Ensure that the surplus energy is redirected into expanding our agricultural domes. We'll need the extra provisions if we're to support our growing population."
Before the advisor could respond, another figure entered the hall. This man, older and with the distinguished air of someone born to power, approaches the throne with a respectful bow. "Family Head Stark," he greets with a warmth that belies the formality of the setting.
Stark recognizes him instantly as one of his uncles, a trusted member of the council. "Uncle Matthias, what brings you here at this hour?" Stark inquires, his tone mixing familial warmth with the crispness of his official role.
Matthias's face is grave, his eyes holding a flicker of urgency as he straightens to address Stark. "The time has arrived," he says cryptically, his voice low but firm.
Stark's expression shifts subtly, a flicker of understanding passing through his sharp gaze. "You're sure?"
"Yes, the signs have aligned just as the prophecy foretold. We must prepare to use it now," Matthias responds, his tone now laced with an intensity that draws a deeper, more serious line to Stark's already commanding presence.
Stark stood to his feet, his figure casting a long shadow across the marble floors, embellished with the etchings of their ancestral lineage.
"Gather the council, and call back our envoys from the mainland. If what you say is true, we'll need to perform the ritual now."
"As you command, Family head," Matthias replied, bowing once more before turning to carry out the orders.
Upon Matthias departure, Stark's gazes into the sprawling cityscape. He can see the entirety of the island from his position despite being inside of this building.
"Gustav... you will have to forgive me," Stark mumbled before returning to his seat.
...
...
...
As their spacecraft thrummed through the cosmic void, its course set towards a location predicted to be the next appearance of the warp demolator, the atmosphere among them had settled into a routine of anticipation mixed with diligent preparation.
The control room, usually a hub of activity, now operated with a quiet efficiency, the vast stretches of space offering a display of tranquil stars and nebulae that seemed almost static in their slow drift past the viewports.
Gustav had found himself a quiet corner in the observation deck, a space with a panoramic view of the star-studded blackness. Here, he sat cross-legged, his eyes closed and his breathing measured. The meditation was deep, aimed at channelling his bloodline.
Aildris, checking on the navigational charts, walked over to where Endric was. He stood for a moment, observing before speaking; "How are you feeling about the warp demolator? Any concerns about the approach?"
"Not really but why do you ask?" Endric voiced in slight confusion.
"Gustav has mentioned on multiple occasions that you are the time candidate... I don't exactly know what that means but I just get the feeling you'll be able to tell if things weren't right," Aildris answered with a concerned tone.
"You're half right... It doesn't exactly work the way you think. If I truly wanted to know if something could go wrong, I would consult the fates. The last time I did that... hmm..." A flashback of destruction played in Endric's mind as his face scrunched in guilt.
"It didn't go so well. But I believe we'll be fine... preparations are being made. We have a solid month before the demolator makes its appearance. We'll reach the predicted location in two weeks, which gives us another two to prepare or... consider other options if needed."
"Two weeks to get there, two more to wait. It's ample time to ensure we're not walking into this blindly," Aildris agreed with Endric's thoughts.
As Aildris and Endric poured over the intricacies of their route to intercept the warp demolator, a sudden series of urgent beeps resonated through the spacecraft's control room, slicing through their discussion like a sharp blade.
The red flashing lights of the proximity alert bathed the room in an ominous glow, reflecting off the metallic surfaces and illuminating the concerned faces of the crew.
"What's happening?" Aildris exclaimed, rushing to the main console to scan the data rapidly scrolling across the screen.
Endric, equally alarmed, joined him, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the readouts. "Proximity alerts aren't supposed to go off like this unless—"
His words trailed off as Gustav emerged from his meditation chamber, drawn by the commotion. His expression was one of calm control, but the urgency of the situation was not lost on him. "What have we encountered?" he asked, his voice steady, cutting through the tension.
Endric manipulated the controls, bringing up an external visual feed on the main display.
The sight that greeted them was both macabre and startling. "It's not what, but who," he said grimly.
The screen showed a cluster of objects floating in space ahead of them—objects that, upon closer inspection, resolved into humanoid and alien shapes.
Corpses, dozens of them, drifted lifelessly through the void, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and despair. Each wore a black and white uniform, now torn and soiled with the marks of violent deaths.
The crew stared in horrified silence, the reality of the scene before them sinking in slowly. As the spacecraft edged closer, another structure came into view—a battered space structure, pockmarked with holes and floating listlessly. It was clear from its damaged state that it had suffered a catastrophic event.
Gustav's sharp eyes caught the finer details of the structure. "That's not just any spacecraft," he observed quietly, his mind racing to piece together the clues. "It's a prison. A floating penitentiary, perhaps. These people were prisoners."
Endric squinted at the display, absorbing the implications. "A prison riot, or an attack?" he wondered aloud, trying to make sense of the tragedy.
"Let's not jump to conclusions without more information," Gustav cautioned.
He approached the console and initiated a more detailed scan of the area.
Gustav fingers flew over the controls as he fine-tuned the sensors to analyze the wreckage and the bodies more closely.
The enhanced scans revealed more details: the uniforms bore the insignia of a known intergalactic security firm, one that specialized in the most dangerous of criminals.
"This was a high-security transport vessel, then," Aildris deduced, piecing together the visual evidence with their database of ship designs and insignias. "They must have been transporting some extremely dangerous individuals."
Gustav leaned forward, his gaze intense as he studied the floating bodies and the wrecked structure. "The damage pattern isn't consistent with just a riot or a breakout attempt," he noted. "It looks like they were attacked, from both inside and out. Something or someone wanted what was on this ship very badly."
The revelation hung heavily in the room. The possibility of stumbling upon a space prison break was one in a lifetime. What were the chances?
"We need to be cautious," Gustav decided. "We'll maneuver to avoid the debris field and continue on our path, but keep the sensors at maximum sensitivity. I don't want any more surprises."
Endric looked back at the screen, his expression pensive. "Should we check it out?"
"Is it really any of our business?" Gustav threw this question back.
"What if it does become our business... at least we could try to make sure of the fact that this wouldn't affect us in any way," Endric pointed out.
"I doubt a bunch of very dangerous alien criminals would have anything to do with us," Gustav wasn't really interested.
"Let's just make sure. We will still have two weeks of free time anyways. No point in rushing," Aildris chipped in.
Gustav considered this for a moment, before finally agreeing, "Sure."
With this, Endric navigated their ship towards the wreckage up ahead.
The space transport vessel was thrice as large as their spacecraft so they were able to fly in through one of the large holes left on it.
Endric was the first to get off the instant they got into the wreckage.
"What the hell?"