Celestial Hell

I woke not in my bed but horizontally strapped to a stiff backed cold metal, my head screaming, my body covered in sore muscles. Streaks of light flashed past the small viewport without which was nothing more than black slivers and all the rainbowed colors of the cosmos, the blurring of light-skip I had so often seen before.

The gleaming glare of interstellar space, the immense speed at which the craft I knew myself then to be on could only be that of trans-spacial, the intense speed of skipping across the stars.

Deductive reasoning said I probably lay within another prison ship of some sort, based on the thick straps around my ankles and wrists; and the solitude in which I had awoken. I remembered neither how I had arrived on the space faring prison train, its long bays likely filled with cells such as the one I believed myself to be in; nor as to how my body had come to be locked in place.

The dull gleam of the silver plated chamber professed no sound other than the soft whirring of the drive engines propelling us through the abyss of space time. I thought that odd, all other nebulous vessels I had ridden or read of had comically thin walls, a remnant of the times long past when spaceships were designed as light as possible, and if I were in some sort of prison as I was sure to be, I certainly would have heard the moaning and ramblings of my captive brethren. There were none.

Slowly, as my mind began to un-fuzz itself, I subconsciously woke my cybernetic implants, returning them to the waking world of reality. I became aware of not only my surroundings, but a deep pain that sought to overcome my fragile mental state. I was shirtless, my thick chest bloodied and beaten, aching from dozens of small lacerations and purple bruises, ragged with wet wounds that still oozed yellow pus, fresh though untreated and unbandaged. My pants, the remnants of the hyper-light kevlar material used in spacesuits, were ragged and torn, I wore no boots.

My head throbbed from what could only have been a new addition to a long history of concussions, my throat dry, I found speaking difficult, lucky for me I had no companions with which to share in my lonely cell.

The prison train lurched, and had I not been strapped as tightly to what I was beginning to believe an examination table, I surely would have been thrown across the room despite the lack of gravity. There had been no proximity alarm, no warning that the craft was exiting light-skip, only the sudden tossing of my stomach and a tug against my straps.

Without the viewport lay a planet I recognized immediately, the seat of power for the Clegharyon Empyre, the urbanized city-planet of Hwyrern. I’d been reading about the capital planet in holo-novels for as long as I could remember. But to see it in person was a sight beyond reality. The blue halo that outlines all of the oxygen rich planets conquered so far throughout the Empyre was not the standard fading pale indigo, but a sickly yellow, a polluted haze that covered the whole of the golden planet. Two of Hwyrern’s three satellite moons were visible through my cell’s small window, the harsh gray of the wasteland Lunive and the smaller sprawling cityscape of Vandyr.

Visible too, to my great pleasure and ah, was the planet’s Universium-renowned megastructure. The marvel of engineering was designed in the shape of a giant metallic arachnid floating between the two moons, nicknamed Megalodon. Long drive yard arms stretched beyond Hwyrern’s horizon to intertwine with its third moon. The massive structure was originally designed for ship building, but later expanded to house the ever growing population of the metropolis-planet. Only two of the original eight arms were still used as shipyards, the rest grown and reconstructed into habitats for the various sentient species who'd immigrated to the hive of civilization that was the Empyre’s capital throughout the hundreds of years of its rule.

The train rotated above the planet and its satellites, it rattled beneath my feet momentarily and two ships flew past the viewport. Hailing from the vessel I resided, the shuttles were prison dropships, small in comparison to the train I was locked in. The ships disappeared out of view making for Hwryern, the prison vessel spun itself on axis and I felt the roaring rumble of the drive engines coming to life once more as the ship slammed back into the tearing of space time that was light-skipping.

We emerged what could have been hours or days later. Time is a strange thing within the black depths of the cosmos, ever-shifting and warping, spun by the technology mankind borrowed from the Elequials all those centuries ago. Time too acts odd on the mind when confined in as small a space as I found myself, my battered body cramped, tired muscles strained from the exertion of trying with futility to break those bonds that held me and the injuries I still had no recollection of receiving.

Long ago I learned to ‘roll with the punches’ and resigned myself to this mantra as the spaceship jumped from system to system, dropping off its cargo of miscreants and convicts. I wondered all the while, what exactly had I been imprisoned for? Perhaps the fraud on Altaer II, or the grand theft shuttle on Weura, or it could be for the various petty thefts and defacing of Empyrical property on any manner of systems. But if I was being honest with myself, it was probably that mishap on Kraeken. Though how I had been caught, and how I could remember so little since was still a mystery. When, I wondered, would I be shuttled from the train, and to which prison planet would I find myself locked away?

Staggering out of interdimensional speeds once more, I felt something rattle somewhere deep within myself, and believed one of my implants loose, I hoped it wouldn’t affect my eventual–and hopefully–inevitable escape. My wrist and leg cybernetics felt fully functioning.

The ship neared a red dwarf so blindingly bright I was forced to close my eyes to not further aggravate my already throbbing skull. The blaring light softened within the pale carmine of my inner eyelids and I was able to squint out the viewport once more, revealing a minute green planet I assumed to be one of the many sparsely inhabited planets of the Cyrelin system. Most of which, there were at least nine I could think of though there could have been many more, were within close reach, or in their dwarf star’s Goldilocks Zone, making for numerous inhabitable lands by those immigrating humans and other carbon-based lifeforms of the galaxy.

After some time of reasoning I decided the emerald orb the train now passed was Cyrelin VII. A low gravity, oxygen rich planet with a plethora of native plant and animal life, two of which had achieved sentience though neither had evolved to the point of space travel. A mostly forested and oceanic planet, the poles ice capped in brutal glaciers, the equatorial range was the most densely populated region, sparse as it was. The train gave a few quick lurches once more and three more dropships made for orbit around Cyrelin VII’s small moon, where I could only assume a barren wasteland of a prison awaited the shuttle’s inhabitants.

The vessel shifted on axis again and we light-skipped out of system. This jump was short, maybe a few hours at most, twenty minutes at the least. My concussed mind still struggled to comprehend the speed of time, solitary confinement too left me lacking in all sense of progression. It was never the lack of companionship that made me crack when imprisoned, but the lack of organization, the lack of control. This wasn't my first time incarcerated, and unfortunately I doubted it to be my last.

I'd developed coping mechanisms to maintain some semblance of sanity during each of my stays locked up over the years. But I imagined being held strapped stiff in place as I was would prove difficult to cope with sooner than later.

I groaned as my beaten body was thrown against my restraints as the train exited interdimensional travel into a solar system with two visible planets and a brilliant blue neutron star far distant in the expanse. The collapsing supergiant spread its golden tendrils across the system like some mighty cosmic octopod, its acceleration disc a halo spinning at speeds unfathomable to any mortal mind, though it looked to spin gently thousands of miles off as we were.

I felt a pang of regret for the sorry bastards who’d be shuttled down to this prison, it was only a matter of time before that neutron star erupted and engulfed the whole of its system. I also couldn’t help but chuckle to myself at what a vicious fate that would be.

Then I heard a latch release, pressure seals giving way, and a hatch opening behind where I lay trapped on the examination table.

Damn.

My jailers floated into the room, a squat human male, based on his short stature and thick muscles he probably hailed from a high g planet such as the gas giant Graundil or the frozen wasteland of Rilithir. The other jailor was tall and lanky, six long limbs of an iridescent purple hue whose slimy scales shifted to greens and blues as it moved through the zero g, its amphibious, triangular head sprouted four eyes and had no visible ears or nostrils, a Varylin. I hated Varylins.

“Good morning gents. Or is it evening? I’ve seemed to have misplaced my watch.” I said, trying to sound as cheery despite the circumstances. There was no need to piss off men of the law if I didn’t have to.

“Zip it slimeball.” The Varylin said in its oozing voice, a liquid slurping sound of each syllable.

“Alrighty. One question though, is this the Rayth System? If so I’d much rather be shuttled elsewhere, I’ve had run-ins with neutron stars before and they haven’t exactly earned my trust.”

The human jailor backhanded me across the face. It stung, but wasn’t a huge surprise. I decided to keep my mouth shut then as they rolled me upright on the cold metal table I lay and shoved me floating out of the room and into the empty hallway. We passed by other cells filled with all manner of sentient, and a few non sentient species, Humans, Cyrelins, Rilithiries, Hwryernians, Xenoquiths, a massive furred and tusked Athrëdaeon, even a few jellyfish looking Graundilians, I marveled at what a lovely melting pot of the known Universium this prison train was.

We wove through corridors and eventually ended at a shuttle bay, my dropship awaited. They unstrapped me from the metal slab I had lain like some hunk of butcher’s meat for so long, manacled my wrists behind my back and loaded me onto a small vessel lined next to nine other prisoners, ah to have friends again.

The Varylin slurped something in a language I didn’t recognize, the bay doors closed, the shuttle sealed itself and we launched from the hangar down to my new home. There were no viewports from which I could watch our landing, though as we entered atmosphere and I felt the harsh tug of gravity take hold of my muscles once more, we experienced extreme turbulence that told me we were entering one of the Rayth System’s multiple gas giants, or worse, the solar system’s only habitable world, Killarnithir.

If I remembered correctly the planet had evolved no sentients, though had a thriving band of predatory plant and animal life, the tectonic shifting of the planet had shorn massive mountainsides into jagged cliffs, some so tall they reached the upper atmosphere wracked by perpetual cumulonimbus storms, the valleys between so low as to penetrate the crust of the planet, rivers of lava bursting from the core to flow amongst the depths. A literal hellscape of a planet, home sweet home.

The dropship came down hard, I doubted it caused any major damage to the landing gear, though it surely couldn’t have been the pilot’s best landing. The bay door dropped and I saw to some minor terror, my first view of Killarnithir. The landing pad was wet from a heavy rainfall, overlooking a vast valley of clouds rolling with a violence I couldn’t have expected, the air smelt of sulfur and the wind howled into the loading bay. Within the roiling cumulonimbus lightning flashed violent violet streaks, distant mountains peaked through the gloom before disappearing again into the tumult.

“Welcome to Hell.” The squat human guard said, we were each prodded off the dropship and onto the landing pad, met by a lovely greeting party of prison guards wearing cloaks of fuligin and heavy blaststeel plate and mail, the twin headed reptilian sigil of the Clegharyon Empyre emblazoned across their chests. Each held a tall shield and electro-pike, the versatile weapons served as both blastrifles and a twin sided lances for close combat. Their helms were shaped not unlike the Varylin’s triangular visage, though these beheld the dual temple tusks of an Athrëdaeon, curving downward parallel to the midnight steel of their face plates.

A tall man with the pale skin and lanky limbs of a low g world like snow capped Nyven, or any manner of moons for that matter, walked forward with hands held behind his stiff back, his chin high of an authority he looked to treasure a little too dearly. The Warden.

“Prisoners, welcome to Killarnithir. For your various crimes you each have been chosen to spend the rest of your days amongst the beautiful mountains and cliffs of my planet.” He said, his voice was higher pitched than I would’ve guessed.

“Beautiful? These mountains aren’t shit.” An enormous Athrëdaeon rumbled from the back of the line. He was promptly struck by the nearest guard, lance striking the great furred man across the face, electricity flashed through the blow, sending the tall being to his knees where he was promptly kicked in the gut by another of the anonymous cloaked soldiers. Efficient guards, I made a mental note not to piss any off if I didn’t have to. The Athrëdaeon grunted but spoke no more.

“As you can see,” The warden continued, “We will not tolerate misbehavior amongst our ranks, this is a civilized prison, with civilized prisoners. Each of you has been chosen to join us on my lovely world and I should hope you are thankful for my hospitality.”

“Lick my asses!” A Cyrelin not two prisoners down from me said, the small but powerful being was scaled and scarred, their face twisted and spiked, their muscled arms wriggling and bulging as though they thought themself capable of breaking free of their bonds. To my delighted surprise one of their manacled wrists actually began to tear through the steel holding them, sparks flew from their cuffs.

A guard strode up and stabbed him through without a word, the Cyrelin’s body shuddered in their electrified death throes, they fell to the ground shaking violently. Then, as quick as it had begun, the beast was dead on the ground and voiding their bowels. I scrunched my nose in disgust.

“No misbehavior will be tolerated.” The warden said, then turning he strode back whence he had come. It appeared they didn’t allow much leeway here, it was going to make for my escape that much more difficult, and my success that much more glorious. The implants in my wrists had already begun to work their magic on my own manacles.

The remaining nine of us were poked and prodded into a tall windowless building all of sharp edges and angled architecture. Massive portcullis blast doors rose and we were pushed inside, a guard was silently assigned for each of us, we were separated and guided through the cell blocks into our new homes as couples, jailor and jailed.

I didn’t waste time, as soon as we entered a corridor alone, my implants released my bonds and I attacked the guard. Unfortunately my time in zero g and the beaten state of my body left me weak and unprepared for the soldier’s strength.

He rag-dolled me aside like I was some child’s plaything during my pathetic attempt at a tackle. Slamming me against the far wall of the narrow corridor, his strength magnified by the suit of armor he wore, though my attack was not all for naught, I came up from the ground coughing blood with his side knife in hand, stolen during my meager attempt at a form tackle.

The guard saw his error and raised his lance, but not fast enough, his own lasknife flew from my hands, spinning across the narrow hall to stab him clean through his breastplate. Some armor. I thought as I rose, the white knife jutted from the dying man’s chest like some sad banner of surrender. Pulling the bloodied blade from his pierced ribs I sprung up and made ready for reinforcements. When none came, I stripped the dead man of his plate and male, dawning the heavy power armor, I slung on his helm, sheathed his lasknife, grabbed his pike and shield, and made for the landing pad on which we’d come, hoping no one paid me enough mind to notice the crimson stained hole in the steel of the dead man’s armor.

Taking on a casual but purposeful cadence I moved back the way we’d come, trying desperately to shove down the urge to make a run for it, to run would only draw attention to myself, that which I wanted none of. Moving swiftly yet deceptively I slunk through the various corridors of the prison, little time had passed since the guards had taken us as individuals and I hoped the dropship still sat on the landing pad refueling or undergoing some maintenance.

I turned a corner and found myself facing three guards, the Empyre’s twin headed sigil gleaming across their breastplates. Damn. I’ve been in my share of fights over the years, though most ended with a broken nose on my face, a concussion ringing between my ears, and my cowardly ass sprinting from my foes as fast as my legs would carry me. I took no hesitation in following history's footsteps and booked it the opposite direction. I heard helmet muffled orders and the clatter of footsteps, then the prison alarm blared. Shit.

Without thinking, as I’ve found is usually the best course when fighting for survival, I spun and hurled the electro-pike at one of my three pursuers. The lance struck one of the onyx plated guards in his breastplate, felling him mid stride in a rain of sparks and fiery light. I took the brief moment of surprise and dove shield first into the second guard while slashing about with the lasknife at the third.

The knife scraped a gauntleted wrist but caused no damage. The third guard stabbed at me, I rolled clear of his strike and drove the pointed end of the curved triangular shield in the soft chainmail between the helm and plate of the fallen guard's neck, cutting free his head from his shoulders. I felt a sharp crack in my skull and slammed faceplate first into the dead man's chest, spurting blood about like some grotesque splatter painting. I came up woozy and blurry eyed, red smeared across my helm’s visor.

The third guard brought his pike around for a killing blow, I dragged the bloodied shield from the severed neck of the dead man and barely got it up in time to block the pike from piercing through my own chest.

Kicking my foe’s legs out from under him I scrambled to my feet, grasping free the crimson tipped lance I’d thrown into the first guard’s chest, I raised the shield and long spear in a defensive stance. The third soldier did not hesitate, swinging the length of midnight steel it struck against my own pike and shield repeatedly, shooting sparks of white and silver to dance about the long prison corridor. After less than three blows I saw this guard was soon to outmatch me, I waited for an opportunity, then struck the guard’s pike wide and turned, shoving my shield over the back of my heavy stolen armor, bolting back the way I had originally been going.

The alarm blared in my ringing ears with each step. After less than five strides I was plunged to the ground by the soldier’s thrown pike striking the shield across my back. Scrambling back to my feet I grasped his thrown lance in my free hand and kept running. The fool threw away his only weapon, what an idiot, I silently mocked the soldiers I’d outmatched and outsmarted, ignoring the cowardice of running as was becoming my own little tradition. I darted through the corridors I prayed to be those I had originally been brought through.

They were. I turned a corner and emerged at the tall blast doors sealed shut after myself and the other prisoners had been confined within the building. Ripping off the steel gauntlet of my right arm I embedded my cybernetic wrist implant into the door’s lock. Embracing the unsettling, yet oddly sexual sensation always felt when my enhancements interfaced within a separate computer, I giddily shuddered away the goosebumps and the blast doors slid open. Freeing my wrist implant from the lock I sprinted into the howling wind and torrential rains of Killanithir.

Holy shit the shuttle’s still there. I grinned between ragged breaths, running across the slick steel of the pad. Twin tubes connected to each of the dropship's wings, cargo was being floated into where we prisoners had sat. I love it when a plan comes to fruition.

From the gangplank strided two guards, a stout man and a six-limbed Varylin with blastrifles raised. My old friends.

“That’s far enough.” The human guard called. I kept running, betting on the power armor’s internal shielding to be strong enough to withstand at least one burst of their weapons.

The two glanced at each other, shrugged, and opened fire. I dodged and wove but was struck by multiple bolts of energy almost instantly. The first grazed my shoulder plate, the second struck one of the pikes from my hand leaving it shaking and numb, the third burned so close to my face that it melted a steel tusk protruding from the temples of the stolen helm, the fourth struck me in the chest and knocked me on my ass in a puddle of rainwater.

The wind gone from my gut, I flailed about on the ground like some wretched Aquilan out of water, trying to rise as I hacked up blood and attempted to suck in air to keep myself from blacking out. At least three ribs were broken, the breastplate crushed inward, but not wholly broken. I tore off the helmet, trying still to find the oxygen that wouldn’t enter my lungs, the two guards had ceased fire after I’d gone down, probably assuming I’d be easy picking now.

Wrongo.

Still gasping for breath and looking through the blurry lower half of my peripheral vision I raised my remaining electro-pike, engaged its blastrifle function, and fired away. Shooting the human guard three times he went down hard, the Varylin moved faster and I only managed a glancing blow before he opened fire again. Crimson bolts of energy lit up the downpour, ashen plasma scarring marred the landing pad and dropship wherever a stray laser struck.

I managed a lucky headshot as my breath finally returned, the sentient’s helm exploded in an eruption of onyx steel, white bone and maroon viscera, but not before the Varylin shot my right leg below the knee, melting the calf plate and burning my flesh beneath.

I would have screamed in agony had every breath not been so precious, instead I groaned and moaned, tears rolling down my craven cheeks as I complained and cursed every obscenity that came to mind, and a few I invented on the spot. Dragging myself to my knees I crawled to the shuttle like some sniveling babe. A million needles stabbed into my smoldered calf muscle with every movement, my face flushed and sweaty, if I didn’t get medical care soon it wouldn’t matter if I made it off this damp hell of a world or not. The best I could hope for was a medkit on the dropship.

The shuttle’s landing lights flickered to life, the last of its cargo loaded before the firefight, its refueling pumps disengaged, damnit. I wrenched myself from crawling to limping, if I missed the ship the warden would undoubtedly have me executed as a liability to his establishment, getting on that gangplank was my only hope.

I hobbled past the two corpse guards, their blood swimming in the puddles of rainwater to distort in sickening swirls and clouded masses beneath my boots. I was so close. The ramp began to lift, steam billowing from nearby exhaust vents. No.

I used the last burst of energy I had, my lungs burned, torment seared up from the warped and twisted tissue of my calf. I dove, grasping the edge of the rising ramp I hauled myself up into the bay just as it sealed itself closed.

It worked. I lay there on the ramp for a long while, gathering my wits and trying to regain some bit of lost strength as I felt the shuttle lift from the landing pad and take to the turbulent skies once more.

“Hey!” I heard a call from the far end of the cargo bay after some time, probably some First Officer or petty crewman. “What’re you doing here?”

I rolled my head up just enough so that I could see him walking upside down from my perspective, a tall man in a navy jumpsuit stalking toward me, one of the pilots. I sighed and raised the pike at him, his eyebrows shot up and he went for his sidearm. I didn’t give him the chance to more than grasp the hilt of his pistol, brilliant crimson light bathed the loading bay and the pilot fell.

I heaved myself to my feet, through the corridor of the small shuttle I heard the scrambling of the Captain making emergency radio calls and squawking 7700. Woozy and bloodied, I pulled myself past the collapsed First Officer, grabbing his pistol from its holster. I slunk into the cockpit and plopped down into the dying man’s chair. The Captain was wide eyed and mouthing nonsense, ah to be a coward, I recognized her face as that of my oft own.

“There are two ways this can go.” I mumbled, weapon raised lazily at the terrified pilot. “You can bypass the prison train, light-skip us out of Rayth System and drop me off at Cyrelin IV, or I can shoot you and do it myself.”

The Captain started babbling gibberish, tears rolling down her smooth cheeks.

“Just pick one lady, I need to get to a medkit and would much rather you pick the first option.” Exhaustion was beginning to creep in, the edges of my vision grew black but I held on. “If you can’t talk raise a finger, one finger for Cyrelin IV, or two fingers to join your First Officer.”

She raised a shaking finger.

“Fantastic. Change that squawk code, and not to 7500. Radio the prison ship that you’ve resolved the issue, make something up, I don’t care.”

“Ok.” Her voice wavered but she did so, finally starting to get her wits about her.

“Great, give me your sidearm, I’m gonna go find a medkit.”

She handed it over. “In the back, by the pisser.”

I laughed. “Thanks.” She was handling the highjacking surprisingly well. I found the medkit and sat on one of the long benches lining the loading bay. I stripped off the leg armor and did the best I could to staunch the bleeding of my half cauterized and mutilated muscle. I applied an anti burn cream and hoped for the best. There was nothing I’d be able to do about my ribs until I got to a hospital on Cyrelin.

I felt the dropship change course, exit orbit and tremble as we light-skipped out of the system. Laying down on the bench I couldn’t help but let pride wash over me at another successful escape. Though as I felt myself succumbing to sleep, I wondered idly if the Captain had actually set course for Cyrelin IV, or if she would simply kill me in my sleep and dump my body out the airlock during transit. I shrugged away the risk, the Captain seemed cool enough to handle a petty highjacking, she probably wouldn’t stab me in my sleep, probably. I felt a smirk crawl across my face and let myself fall into the abyss of unconsciousness.