Vorden stepped into the cockpit, fingers dragging lazily through his wet hair as droplets cascaded down the back of his neck, dampening the collar of his fresh shirt. Sil turned from the illuminated holographic star map hovering before him, raising an eyebrow as his lips curled into a teasing smile.
"Another shower? Isn't that your third since we left Morvidk's planet?"
Vorden grimaced, a subtle shiver of revulsion shaking his frame. "Raten, those rebels of yours smell disgusting. I can't get the stench out of my head. It's following me."
Raten rolled his eyes dramatically, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the console. "Yeah, yeah, pretty boy can't handle the aroma of my precious rebels. That smell," turning to face him he jabbed a finger at Vorden, eyes narrowed, "saved your delicate, potpourri'd backside."
Sil chuckled softly, shaking his head. "They do kind of stink, Raten. Even I had to wash that paste off, the second we got back on board."
Raten's jaw dropped in exaggerated outrage. "You ungrateful twits! That glorious stench was our ticket out alive!"
Vorden's lips twisted into a smirk, eyes dancing with mischief. "Did you even shower, Raten?"
Sil's laughter burst forth louder this time, filling the cockpit warmly. Raten's eyes flared, cheeks darkening slightly as he straightened abruptly, irritation etched into every line of his body.
"Of course I showered! Sheesh!" Raten growled as he leapt up from his seat, stomping away to pace aggressively near the viewport, his reflection glaring indignantly back at him each time he met its gaze.
Vorden slipped comfortably into the vacated seat beside Sil, amusement lingering in his gaze as he watched his brother fume silently.
Clearing his throat, Sil drew their attention back to the star map, points of light shifting and realigning as he spoke. "Anyway, our next target is here." He gestured towards a small cluster of stars glowing faintly purple among the vast cosmic spread. "Bliss provided these coordinates before—" his jaw tensed before he finished the thought. "Before she was captured. If she's right, we're headed to Vespera's home world."
A tense silence settled briefly between them, broken only by Raten subtly dipping his head downward, quickly sniffing his own shoulder. He straightened immediately, eyes darting around suspiciously, hoping no one noticed his moment of insecurity.
"Vespera," Vorden murmured thoughtfully, tension coiling in his shoulders once more. "Another celestial. Think she'll be as much trouble as Morvidk?"
Raten snorted, regaining his bravado. "Meaning none at all?"
Vorden nodded as he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's my point."
Sil carefully filled them in on everything that he could recall of the celestial warrior, and tried to work out a battle strategy with his brothers. "Having a plan in place for when we finally come face to face with Vespera, but how we approach is going to basically set the stage for this."
Vorden looked at the starmap in front of them, thinking deeply as he responded. "How long until we arrive within range?" He glanced over at Raten and Sil.
"We will be in scanning range within an hour." Raten rattled off the reading on the console in front of him, without looking away from the screen.
Vorden nodded once, still looking contemplative. "Well, then we will just have to wait and see— again."
The conversation continued, a soft murmer of information being shared between, words of planning flowed effortlessly between the three. With the overhead lighting slightly dimmed to accommodate the holographic display, a wave of nostalgia washed over Sil suddenly.
Every day for the most formidable years of his unnaturally long life, Sil remembered life being mostly just like this. A dark cozy space, the three brothers talking late into the night, sometimes well into the morning even. However back then, all three were sitting together on the floor, the command chair— vacant somewhere in the distance, while his body slept.
Suddenly he was thrown back into the present, his daydream memory real cut short, and Sil's faraway expression with his unfocused and glazed over eyes snapped to the main view screen.
He had been called back by a sound. Yanked down by his teather, at the grumbled word, heard rolling out of Raten's mouth without warning.
"Wow." His stunned expression was soon spread to the faces of the other two. "Is that it?" He asked almost hesitantly, not sure if he was impressed by the sight or apprehensive.
Six pairs of stunningly clear, oddly identical, lightly colored eyes peered at the display in front of them. Each wore a very different expression at the sight. Still, there was no question about it, all of them were in awe at the completely foreign image of this other worldly planet.
The alien world hung suspended in a perpetual twilight beneath the smoldering glare of its crimson star. Its heavy atmosphere, dense with volcanic gases, scattered eerie hues of burnt orange, garnet red, and bruised purple across an ever-turbulent sky. Layers of thick clouds churned relentlessly, forming roiling curtains through which streaks of molten light occasionally burst, painting the horizon with violent brilliance.
The landscape below was brutal and dramatic—a volcanic expanse riddled with towering peaks and deep fissures belching torrents of ash and molten rock. The ground itself was a tapestry of obsidian plains, jagged basalt formations, and shimmering fields of black glass, polished to a mirror sheen by relentless flows of lava. Rivers of glowing magma etched fiery veins through the planet's surface, slowly reshaping the terrain as they surged and cooled.
Warm, moisture-laden winds whispered through these desolate stretches, thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and charred earth, creating an oppressive, humid heat. Life was scarce here, but not absent; hardy succulents with leathery, waxy flesh clung stubbornly to existence in isolated pockets of terrain sheltered between the volcanic titans. Their thick, twisted stalks bore leaves swollen with stored moisture, colors ranging from vivid emerald to rusty ochre, contrasting sharply against the blackened soil.
Yet it was upon the dormant volcanoes—immense giants slumbering beneath a calmer, clearer atmosphere—that true fertility bloomed. Above the choking, sulfurous haze, these volcanic slopes boasted exceptionally rich, dark soils, nourished by millennia of volcanic ash and mineral deposits. Upon these dormant peaks, lush farms flourished, meticulously terraced into concentric rings ascending nearly to the craters' rims. Dense clusters of vibrant crops—strange and luminous in shades of indigo, copper, and deep scarlet—thrived in this oasis, their roots drinking greedily from the nutrient-rich earth.
Noticing the unnaturally straight lines of crops evenly spaced out and a clear indicator of some civilizations present, Vorden reached over to a console closest to him and initiated various scans, hoping to get a better idea of the potential forces that very well may be at Vespera's disposal.
From above, the dormant volcanoes appeared as islands of vibrant life, ringed by wisps of dark volcanic smoke drifting like ghostly sentinels below. Amidst the fierce, fiery chaos that defined this alien world, these farms were serene sanctuaries of abundance and vivid color, defying the harsh brutality that surrounded them.
Vorden's fingers danced across the control panel, calling up the scan overlays in layered waves of digital light. The ship's forward display shimmered, casting molten hues of topographic heat maps and cloud-veiled terrain across their faces. Vespera's world, the surface rotated in slow orbit before them—blackened mountain chains, cratered ridges, and simmering chasms, all bristling with seismic unrest.
"Small clusters here," Vorden muttered, highlighting flickers of life readings scattered like pinpricks around several dormant volcanoes. "Above the cloud line. Sparse settlements—might be aerial platforms, maybe old outposts. Barely habitable. Everything below this cloud layer…" he trailed off, brow furrowing as he refined the scan filters, "…is almost entirely dead. Just thermal anomalies. And the occasional patch of succulents, or moss. No fauna. No lifeforms. Just heat, ash, and rock."
The volcanic cloud layer swirled in constant turbulence, a thick stratum of chemical mist and heat distortion. But then—he paused. A different kind of reading pulsed through the display.
"There," Vorden said, voice sharp. He zoomed in.
On a lone volcano—an obsidian and pumice colossus rising like the broken horn of a slumbering beast—was a flicker of life. Not above the clouds. Below. Sub-cloud.
A handful of lifeforms. No more than six.
Each signal blazed in stark contrast to the rest—blindingly bright. Not in temperature, not in movement… but in energy. Potency. Several figures beaming, almost blindingly radiating with raw, unfiltered, unmistakable power.
"They're like floodlights compared to candles," Vorden murmured, awed. "It's got to be them."
There are at least three of similar strength— this fight may not be so easy." Sil added with a somber tone.
Sil folded his arms, eyes narrowing at the screen. "At least it's away from the populous. If this goes wrong…" He let the thought hang unfinished.
They all knew the cost of error.
Vorden gave a silent nod, his jaw set.
Then, from behind, Raten leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of the pilot's chair. A familiar glint—wild, hungry—sparked in his eye, lighting his face with mischief and fire.
"So…" he grinned, teeth sharp in the dim glow, "how soon till we leave?"