CHAPTER 1. PART 6 :
Every year, this coalition of pirates, known as the Pirate League, gathered the most feared and influential figures in the cosmos for a series of deliberations that would shape the future of their clandestine activities.
For exactly five days, this sector of the Medisor galaxy became the nerve center of organized crime, oscillating between the most palpable danger and the most rigorous security.
Mercenaries, for teams of renegade mages from all space regions were recruited to ensure that the event went off without a hitch, turning the place into an impenetrable fortress.
The program was always dense and intense.
The days were punctuated by strategic sessions where discussions revolved around technological innovations in spacecraft, new methods of piracy, and strategies for exploiting the resources of unregulated planets.
Evenings, meanwhile, turned into opulent fairs where captains displayed their latest loot and concluded often ephemeral but potentially lucrative alliances.
The previous year, Arkhan had forced her to accompany him to the traffickers' sector of magical plants, invoking her expertise as a consultant.
As she wandered between the stalls of the market, Iona remembered the astonishing diversity of plants on display, from exotic species emitting faint glows to herbs whose heady scents mingled with the air charged with the market.
Merchants, on the lookout for any customer, touted the unique virtues of their specimens, each claiming to possess the most coveted rarity, ready to part with it to the highest bidder.
This market resembled any other, with its cries of vendors, lively negotiations, and crowds of curious buyers, if not for the oppressive atmosphere that distinguished it.
Almost all belts were adorned with gleaming and threatening weapons, and guards with piercing eyes scrupulously monitored the transactions, their presence constantly reminding of the danger hovering over this place.
Iona caught the icy gaze of one of them, and her heart jumped when she saw the face of the guard transform before her eyes into a dreadful creature, worthy of the worst nightmares.
She stepped back, overwhelmed by terror.
That's when Arkhan's hand firmly landed on her shoulder, abruptly bringing her back to reality.
He guided her firmly through the crowd, turning her away from the sinister illusion. Iona couldn't help but look back over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't just dreamed.
The mage of mirages, responsible for this terrifying trick, gradually regained a human appearance, his face twisting into a mocking and satisfied smirk.
Arkhan, in a low and dry voice, whispered to her to always be vigilant, to keep her head down, and to never again meet anyone's gaze in that place. She never made that mistake again.
Arkhan, for his part, was like a fish in water throughout the rest of the expedition. Iona had never seen him with such an intense expression; his face, usually impassive, was animated by an unhealthy, calculating glee.
His smile, far from being warm, seemed to outline the contours of a secret and complex plan.
This transformation gave her chills, accentuating the sense of insecurity that enveloped the market.
She followed her captain like his shadow, noting down one piece of information after another on her tablet, ready to answer his queries without the slightest hesitation. While tapping on her device, she scanned the surroundings, alert, capturing every detail that could prove crucial for their mission or their survival.
Every whisper, every observed exchange could be the key to deeper understandings of the power stakes governing this clandestine market. Almost all these plants came from plantations on enslaved planets or were the result of commercial cargo thefts.
The state of some specimens, wilted or faded, testified to the difficulties in keeping such delicate organisms alive during long space journeys.
Back from this clandestine market, Arkhan had demanded a detailed report from Iona on the state of affairs in the world of plant trafficking.
More crucially, he wanted to know if she was capable of cultivating these rare and precious plants herself aboard their ship, in her greenhouse.
After a moment of silent reflection, a sigh escaped her. Yes, she was capable. Far more than he imagined. The mediocre level at which she had been assessed was far from reflecting her true potential.
And that's exactly what she did.
For a full year, she worked in her greenhouse, a rigged and cramped space, with limited resources, to cultivate the most sought-after and complex specimens to produce.
The success of her first cultures lit up Arkhan's face with a glow of satisfaction, but for Iona, this success left a bitter taste in her mouth.
A deep disgust crept into her, for each flourishing plant not only reminded her of her talent, but also of the dark use her captain envisioned for these natural wonders; used in a trade that fueled wars and domination over other worlds.
And in those moments of introspection, Iona always ended up clenching her teeth and fists, tearing at her flesh. It was for her a brutal reminder that she was acting only in the name of survival.
The slight pain that sometimes persisted, a result of the burned flesh of her forearms, served as a constant reminder of the consequences of a rebellious spirit.
To her burned forearms were added the long scars on her back, marks left by attempts to resist immoral orders. They reminded her of the times when she had tried to discreetly sabotage the trafficking of these plants, to slow their production, or even to render them unusable, risking her life in the process. And the stupid futility of such efforts.
And as the Kra'keng, the ship led by the bloodthirsty Arkhan, received the official invitation from the Pirate League to address the most notorious criminals in the galaxy, Iona felt overwhelmed by terror.
The captain intended to showcase his profits and use Iona and her unique botanical expertise as entry currency to the highest levels of the criminal organization.
Iona had demonstrated that it was possible to cultivate rare and powerful plants far from the usual fertile soils, on the deck of an old spaceship.
The idea of having to share her hard-earned discoveries with individuals as corrupt and greedy as the pirates of the Pirate League chilled her.
She was deeply aware of the disastrous consequences this could entail: increased interest in these rare plants could trigger conflicts across the worlds, threatening the independence and security of her own planet.
Every vibration of the ship as it navigated towards the meeting place reminded her of the imminence of this fateful presentation.
Her heart raced, each beat resonating like an echo of her darkest fears.
Caught between forced loyalty to her captain and a conscience that tormented her, Iona knew she had to make a decision.