wreckitratchel
New Member
There was a definite appeal to the vast, rolling red desert.
Avik Carnerulea stood on the monolithic rock, looking out, letting the warmth burn the bottoms of his feet. He squirmed his toes but waited a moment before jumping down into the sand. He picked up his sandals and picked his way through thorny bushes with one or two scrapes. Once they receded, they were replaced with large cacti, all with several, large arms reaching towards the sky. Some were misshapen or dying, but such was life in the desert.
He held his hand against the light of the sun, watching it begin its long sink into the horizon. The heat of the day was dissipating, and he could already feel the cold that night brought. Slipping on his shoes, he made the walk back to the small village.
The main city on Carnelia was not far; he could see its massive outline against the sunset hues. A monster in the distance, ever-growing, getting closer to him every day. With the way it was expanding, Avik was sure the planet would die within the century. Years were shorter here, with their rotation so close to their star, and a century would pass in an instant. Yet no one seemed to worry. The balance was wrong, and he felt it, and so did the surrounding villages. Though they did not partake in city life, they would pay the consequences when the planet died.
Avik sighed, pushing the door open to his modest home. One room was all that he needed. He shed his light jacket, hanging it next to the door, and started a fire. Here, technology was minimal, but it was also unnecessary. They lived by the light of the day and cooked by flame. After he ate a simple meal, he checked that the village was settled and mostly asleep before donning his gear and leaving again.
Outside, he checked his pride and joy, Divine. Most of the villagers had their own transportation, seeing as using portals required traveling to the city, and that was generally avoided. His ship was a smaller, quicker version of a galleon, still with two large masts and a single smaller one. Once he did regular maintenance, he filled the large furnace with the mineral required to run the ship. Newer ships had much more efficient ways of burning the fuel, but he would never trade up.
He listened to the familiar purr as the jets underneath him started. With a sloppy grin, he pushed his dark hair away from his face and put one hand on the heavy wooden wheel. The other hand settled on a large lever next to him, which he cranked down slowly, letting the ship rise a few feet in the air. She idled for a moment, then he brought her higher. Hovering over the height of the houses, he began to move forward at a slight incline, slowly bringing them into the clouds.
The desert at night was as vast and horrifying as space, and he watched as it disappeared below him. The same excited knot tied in his stomach as he planted his feet firmly while an automated voice told him to prepare for exiting the atmosphere. A clear blue shield grew around the entirety of the ship, protecting him and any possible crew members from being lost. There was a rope next to him, and he wrapped it around his wrist and hand for support. With one last pull on the lever, he pushed through the planet’s exosphere and into open space.
His heart dropped as Carnelia shrunk behind him, and he took a calming breath before releasing the rope he gripped so tightly in his hand. He steered himself away from the crackling portal and toward one of his favorite, overcrowded planets; Paraíba. He could practically see the crowds before he even entered the atmosphere, and as he got closer to the bustling port, he smiled.
So many hopeless targets.
But he wasn’t here to steal; he was on a less mischievous route – arms trade.
Once he had docked, he went to his quarters, opening up a large crate with seven ornate guns inside. Nature did not support the manufacturing of weapons, thus they had to be made from resources that were siphoned away from their intended purpose. Dead planets could also be harvested for some materials needed for guns, though it delayed their rebirth.
He had...acquired these guns and was hoping to barter them for goods to hire a crew. Paraíba was the perfect hub for such an encounter. He locked the crate and walked back into the humid air, letting it consume him. The massive buildings towered over him, the sun unpleasantly glaring off them. The city was alive with laughter and shouting, trading and socializing. After pushing his way through the crowds, he found the same bar he frequented on every trip.
It had its own Paraíba style, with shining white stools and bartop. It was open in the middle; the courtyard full of plants and ivy, and even one fruit tree grew over the rooftops, its petals occasionally falling onto a patron. A small cat ran under his legs, and he lifted his feet to let it pass undisturbed. He found a seat towards the back at an unobtrusive table.
Early, but still hungry, he ordered the chef’s special and didn’t bother checking what it was before eating. Seafood of some sort, and delicious. When he was finished, he pushed the plate gently to the edge of the table, considering the connection he was meeting. His brother, Vaiko, had arranged the meeting, but Vaiko was not always one of perfect judgment.
Patient, he leaned back into his seat and waited.
