The ship codenamed "Project Kraken" is a revolutionary new design of warships, which the Nathi High Command in Matraca hopes will put the Nathi firmly ahead in the ongoing war.
"Warship" is a bit of a mis-nomer, as Sarkin Skyer knows. Sarkin should know, since he is the chief Nathi crystalworker assigned to the project. In reality, the first and only prototype ship is little more than a rough hull built around the best attempt at what science would later term a "railgun". The principles are sound, but the execution is just barely. [If anyone is interested in the principles, by the way, let me know and I can send that out seperately.]
At any rate, Kraken and her crew of twenty were out on their maiden voyage. The Seregaer was too dangerous, since Elven and Nathi ships were clashing there on a daily basis. The rest of the Nathi coastline was also too heavily patrolled. No city's harbor, with the possible exception of Pura, was ever totally safe.
Of course, there wasn't much at Pura anyway, it was hardly an outpost. There's nothing there but farmers, goats, and refugees. It is of course, an ideal place for a secret naval base.
After several highly successful test firings at the coastal cliffs, Kraken was ordered out into deeper waters. Three weeks into the maneuvers, Kraken was caught by a pair of Elven frigates, who blasted apart Kraken's escorts with almost contemptuous ease.
Kraken was able to outrun the frigates, but only barely. Being a small and low ship, her silhouette was barely visible against the setting sun, and her frigate-sized pontoon engine served her well. As Kraken sped off, the frigates finally saw her and opened fire. A glancing shot tore open Kraken's side and killed seven of the crew. It was in part because of Sarkin's heroic efforts that they were not all lost.
The nearest port was Havna, which did not bode well. Nevertheless, Kraken limped into the harbor a week later, and docked in an area of the city held by the Reaves family, which last word had being reasonably friendly to the Nathi.
"Friendly" also turned out to be a misnomer. The Reaves were of course eager for Kraken to dock with them, but that was the extent of their hospitality. Reekik, Sarkin, and the surviving crew were dragged from their ship and thrown in the stocks after a fight that not everyone walked way from. Reekik was thrown into her own cell, being the only surviving woman in the crew.
Several days passed, during which two more of the crew died, leaving Sarkin and three others as the remainder of Kraken's crew.
In the perpetual darkness of their prison, Sarkin finally got the opening he needed. When the guard came to feed them, Sarkin and the one crewman who was still able attacked him. Overbearing the guard, they fled into the squalid warrens of the city. Their only possessions consisted of Sarkin's crystalworking kit, their clothes, and a dagger each.
Wandering without knowledge, Sarkin's companion fell victim to the predations of a band of street-children. Sarkin escaped, and eventually made his way along well-traveled thoroughfares into O'Mara territory.
It was there that a rumor from beyond hope reached Sarkin's ears. A Nathi Frigate, the Apotheosis, had docked not far at all from where he was!
Sarkin is now wandering in a heavily-travelled "street" one or two levels above the docks in the O'Mara territory. It is a wide dim corridor, which is clogged with people and carts going both ways. Periodically, other equally large corridors split off in every which direction. Wherever there is wall, someone has set up house or business behind it, and the mass of doors, grimy windows, and signs proclaiming all sorts of offers seem to fade into one another in the squalor. The impression of squalor is not at all helped by the incessant smell of salt, body odor, fish, and refuse.
Smaller corridors, some barely large enough for a child to slip through, crisscross the area as well, ladders and corridors leading up and down to who knows where. In these alcoves and crossways lurk characters promising almost any pleasure or form of death one might imagine. Some of them promise both. Some of the crossways are even empty. All of them are un-lit, providing plenty of gloom in which to lurk. It was in one of these alcoves that Sarkin lost his last companion.
Hoping that being in the public eye will save him from the fate that met his mate in the alcove, Sarkin walks down the main thoroughfare towards the ramp leading down to the docks. Penniless and hungry, he looks for a chance to steal some food and, seeing nothing immediately present itself, walks down the ramp to what he hopes will be a vantage from which he can spy the Apotheosis, or at least get more information.
To his surprise, he finds that he is still one floor removed from the docks themselves, though the warehouses are much more common here. He keeps his ears and eyes open for more gossip, as well as for people trying to get the jump on him, and then an idea presents itself.
Looking for someone who looks genuinely helpful (a task in itself) while moving towards the docks, he finds one, a great giant of a man, fully seven feet tall, with hair of a style generally preferred by mops. The giant is carrying around a huge walking stick and a backpack that does a fair imitation of Quasimodo's most famous parts. The giant's expression is one of intelligence and cheerful awe at whatever crosses his gaze.
Sarkin walks up to that person, and ventures "Excuse me? Is my ship around here somewhere? I got waylaid by some criminals and have lost my money, my goods, and my way. Do you know where it might be docked?" He hopes that the person will recognize him as a Nathi, and point him towards the proper ship.
The giant appears shocked. "Good heavens, bandits? Out on the streets? What an appalling excuse for a civil authority they must have around here. I mean, Tasbashoori describes Havna as "somewhat lawless," but I never thought I'd see the day when a man couldn't walk down the street without having his boat stolen! This simply will not do. Come with me, we'd better get you something to eat. You'll need a good meal after a shock like that. That's probably why you were targeted in the first place, you know, no meat on your bones at all. Criminals'll take one look at you and think "easy pickings." What you want to do is start up a regimen, rather like that favored by the Sashimi wrestlers of the Far East Heaven Kingdom except not quite so heavy on fats and fish oils, and start a good program of lifting weights, perhaps, just to put the proper edge on. Still, it's all in the nutrition. Why, I've made it a point to eat a healthy, well-balanced meal every day of my life, and I've never once been the target of a bandit attack, so you can tell it works." The giant draws himself up to his full height to emphasize his point, putting the top of his head some eight inches or so above that of his audience. "Come on, and you can tell me what your boat looked like over a nice dish of Calamari a la Mode. Good for muscle building, it is. So where was your boat when you saw it last? Did it have any identifying markings?" He draws Sarkin along in the art of weight gain along to the nearest food stall, ignoring any protests, whether verbal or physical.
The giant's grip on Sarkin's arm tightens to the point that not even a Kraken would have an easy time getting out of it.
"What an astounding coincidence! We've just come from the Apotheosis. I don't recall ever seeing you aboard, though. Which is odd, really, if you stop to think about it, ships being a rather closed society, everyone gets to know everyone else and everyone knows everyone's business but no one really cares anymore. There are no secrets on the high seas and all that. There have been several fascinating studies, most notably that of Eldorious and Finchley, wherein the societal interactions on board a ship were carefully monitored by trained psychologists over a period of several months. The results would have been very interesting, I'm sure, if the sailors hadn't thrown the psychologists overboard at that point. At any rate, I think we'd better get our food quickly and have a talk with Niktar. Do you know Niktar? He's an officer of some kind in the army, I can never keep all those ranks straight in my head. He ranks higher than me, anyway, I'm just a librarian. And a navigator, sometimes, but I do prefer caring for the books to trying to get any sense out of those silly stars. At any rate, I'm sure he can point you in the right direction one way or another."
The giant scoops up his calamari and drops a few coins on the counter, and turns around, Sarkin firmly in hand. He approaches two other people through the crowd.
One is a tall thin human with the blackest skin Sarkin has ever seen. This one is wearing a long ornate curved sword with strange glass bottles in the hilts.
The other is a Nathi, tall, thin, and wirey. He is wearing a steel cutlass under his cloak, and his bearing indicates command experience. He is at the moment looking around, keeping an eye on a few shadowy figures in alleys that seem to be wherever he looks.
Sarkin looks at the grandiloquent giant, maneuvering his arm in such a way that it's not being crushed *quite* so much. "No, no, my ship was stolen; the Apotheosis is simply the ship I am looking for. What is your name anyway, Mister Giant?"
These are the only words Sarkin gets in edgewise before he is dragged in front of the Nathi and the charcoal-skinned human. He looks at the Nathi, quirking one eyebrow. "Niktar, I presume? My name is Sarkin Skyer; I'm from another ship docked near here that was waylaid by criminals. Perhaps you can help me find the Apotheosis, and some level of comfort?" He gestures at his bedraggled self. "After the jail and the streets, I'm certainly not presentable."
Niktar continues to walk along. "What ship, Mr. Skyer, were you on, and where was it waylaid by these criminals?"
In the dark, she loses all track of time. The only mark of time is when a guard comes in and brings her food, such as it is. What she might guess is a week later, she hears a violent scuffle outside her cell door, and maybe, possibly, some footsteps running away.
Almost immediately, two guards, bloody and furious, barge into her cell and chain her leg to an anchor they bring with them. The slam the door behind them, and all goes dark for another few days, during which Reekik fades in and out of dreams and hallucination.
Some indeterminate time later, instead of the daily food, two Elves come into the cell, tie her hands and feet, and take her out. "You have been chosen as a hostage," one of them tells her. "You should count yourself lucky to die, instead of being sent into slavery."
They drag her out to a secluded part of the undercity docks, where the Elves meet a red-bearded man and a few thugs. "Jaimison," says one of the Elves, "Here is the last surviving member of the Kraken's crew. Your men have the crew of the Apotheosis secured?"
"We do," replies the red-bearded man with a chuckle. "Those as survived the fight, that is. I wouldn't say more than ten total."
"Good. Word is that the other party from the Apotheosis is on their way. Delay them until the Silfarien and the Apotheosis put out, and then you may do with them what you wish."
Reekik is given over to Jaimison, and in the process is turned so that she can see the nearest ports. Berthed there in the gloom are two Elven-style frigates, and then next to them, the Kraken. It appears that the Kraken has been repaired from its previous damage. She is unable to read the names on the frigates. She also gets a very brief glimpse of a tall human soldier, dressed as a champion, leading a Nathi girl up a frigate's gangplank. Then, Jaimison's men pull a hood over her face and hustle her up a long precarious ramp.
After opening what sounds like a large door, she is hustled inside a smaller room and sat down against the doors, once they were closed again. Next to her, on her right, are others, apparently tied and hooded like herself, but she can't tell who they are.
"They're on their way?" This is Jaimison.
"Yeah," comes the reply. "Big Bob went to fetch them. I pity da buggers."
Jaimison chuckles, and all is quiet for about an hour. One of Reekik's fellow hostages moans, and receives a hard kick for his pains.
"I here them on the ladder, Jaim," says one of the thugs. "Big Bob's good as gold."
From what sounds like behind a door, comes a guttural gravelly roar, then a different, panicked voice, "'Ey! Bob, what're you doin? I'm below you, y'know!"
What follows is the sound that could possibly be made by a wooden ladder twisting, snapping, and groaning under incredible stress. Then a loud snap, and a series of ever quieter thumps, followed by a final SPLAT!"
"Galdwan," someone calls, sounding remarkably like Reekik's crew-chief Sarkin, "how's Loki doing back there? Can you go down and help him, or is he able to come back up 'ere?"
"I'm okay!" comes a shout, presumably whoever Loki is. "Bob! Our guide's name was Bob! I think he's that 'Big Bob the Finder' that someone told us about! That means he's a Reaves! 'Ware a trap!"
Jaimison chuckles. "I hope you did not hurt Big Bob the Finder too badly," continues whoever it is. He speaks in a strong rich baritone, the sort that would evoke images of a cheery fireplace and a large beard. "He is a fine man, as you may find, should you ever work with him and not against him."
After a slight expectant pause; "Come out. I have friends of yours with whom you probably wish to speak."
"At the moment he's a fine stain at the bottom of the stairwell," comes the voice of Loki. "I'm sure he's a wonderful person, I always like to think the best of everyone and give the benefit of the doubt wherever possible, but when someone swings a cudgel at my shins I'm not inclined to be gentle with him. I do tend to leave people a bit of a mess, though. My combat trainer always said control was my weak point. He usually said it from inside the opposite wall, come to think of it. He did spend a lot more on protective gear than anyone I've met since."
A short, embarrased silence follows.
Then a shout, "What have you done with my crew?" This is unmistakably Sarkin, as wrathful and dangerous as Reekik has ever heard him.
"Come and see..." Jaimison trails off, still chuckling.
There is a noise of a door, and the floor creaks, like very large people are entering the room. There is a blood-curdling scream of rage, Sarkin again, and scuffles and curses as a fight breaks out right in front of her.
The room is suddenly filled with that acrid smoky smell made by a Nathi as it dies, the flesh burning away, leaving a skeleton. A metallic clank confirms it: someone has died.
"Keep fighting and another man dies!" Jaimison cries. "The man we killed was Nimoor, gunnery sergeant of the Apotheosis. Next to die is Antis, crewman from the Kraken. I understand he has a wife and little girl back on Karanath. Everybody SHUT up and listen to me and nobody else has to die!"
"I suggest that you all put down your weapons right now" says another voice, a man, with accents of the southern continents. "In my experience, big piles of dry wood burn easily, and this big pile of dry wood is no different. I don't want to kill us all, but it seems my only option at the moment."
"Patience," mutters someone else, then says to Jaimison "Speak, for I have to agree with my friend here that cutting our losses may be our only option. But I will hear what you say."
"Simply put, your operation ends here," declares Jaimison. "My employers gave me the order and the resources to stop you before you caught up with them. You may either lay down your weapons and let us take you prisoner, or you and the rest of the crew of the Apotheosis and the Kraken will die."
"You know, Sarkin," says the one who counselled patience, in conversational tones, "I know you knew those men well, but I think this might go along best if you DUCK!!!"
This is followed by a loud CRACK and a bellow of pain, as someone discharges a lightning-bolter sidearm. The chirp of two crossbow bolts follow immediately, one striking the wall, the other striking the prisoner next to Reekik. She can feel him burn away to smoke and bone.
"Kill them! Kill them ALL!" shouts Jaimison.
The hum of a very large blade follows, interrupted by a "splatch" and several thuds around the room. Sarkin and a guard can be heard screaming, and even without holding the Power, Reekik can feel the torrent of Power that he must be unleashing into the guard, and probably causing severe burns at the least. She had seen him kill a man that way once.
Given that Reekik's option are limited at this moment she attempts to make herself less of a target to free flying missiles. To that end, she manages to push aside the remains of her fellow hostages, and lay prone against the double doors.
"Dammit!" seethes one of the voices.
Reekik hears Jaimison grunt "Gah-" then the bolter discharges with an earsplitting crack.
"Son of a bitch," says a voice. "Heads up folks, I'm betting there are more of them."
There is a whoosh, several cries of alarm, and Reekik shakes off her hood in time to see the blade of a gigantic greatsword pass not a handsbreadth above her face, then arc up and through another figure, cutting it hin half through the chest without even slowing down.
The giant wielding the sword struggles to control the blade through it's follow-through, and manages to ground it on an open door. The top half of the door shatters, the lower half of the door slams shut, and fortunately, the giant is able to control the sword. Oddly enough, that's when Reekik realizes that the giant is merely a head taller than everyone, and that his mop-like hair gives him the illusion of being so much bigger.
To her left, Reekik hears Sarkin let out a battle yell more suited to a wild animal. She vaguely sees the truncated figure fall over on top of where she imagines Sarkin must be.
Eventually, the action dies down, and she can make sense of the room. She is still tied hand and foot, against the double doors through which she was brought. Across the room is a single door, with what looks like the bloody remains of Jaimison sprawled against it. Midway down the right wall is the half-demolished door.
Besides Jaimison, there is another body just to her left, this one is in two parts as well. Sarkin is grappling with someone to her right, amidst the bones of the other three hostages, and underneath the body of the most recently killed guard.
The giant with the sword is in the middle of the room. A dark man, probably not Nathi, his black skin rules that out, is on the floor where he apparently ducked the sword. Another Nathi man stands next to Jaimison's body, holding a bolter sidearm and looking incredibly ticked off.
Behind the demolished door comes a series of thumps, ungainly shuffles, and an annoyed reptilian chirp.
"Reekik!" Sarkin seems to have both noticed her, and realized that his opponent is no longer moving. "You're alive! I'm sorry I couldn't take you with us when Lugzan and I escaped." He struggles out from beneath the body that fell on him, and goes to peer in through the depolished door to see what made the noise.
Rekik joins the rest of the party...