Chapter 3: The Price of Freedom
The Black Horizon hurtled through space at full throttle. Claudius sat rigid in his cabin, the ship vibrating violently as its engines struggled to outrun the pursuing pirates. Outside the viewport, the stars seemed to blur into streaks of light as the freighter pushed its limits. Claudius gripped the edge of his seat, the tension in the air thick as the low hum of the ship's systems mingled with the distant thud of impacts.
Claudius's heart raced. Pirates. He had heard stories about them from customers at the workshop—space raiders, smugglers, mercenaries who operated outside of the law. They attacked vulnerable ships like the Black Horizon, looking for loot or hostages to ransom. The thought of falling into their hands made Claudius's blood run cold.
The captain's voice came over the intercom, gruff and filled with urgency. "This is your captain. All crew, brace for evasive maneuvers. We've got pirates on our tail, but we're not going down without a fight."
Claudius fastened his harness tighter. Evasive maneuvers? The ship was already shaking like it might come apart at any moment. He tried to calm his breath, but every passing second heightened his fear. What if this was the end? He'd never make it to Phobos, never take the Academy exam, never escape the crushing weight of Neoterra.
The ship banked hard to the right, throwing Claudius against the side of his cabin. The metallic creak of the hull strained in protest as the Black Horizon tried to dodge whatever weapons the pirates were firing. Claudius gritted his teeth, feeling the pressure push him back into his seat.
For a moment, he considered abandoning his quest. Was this worth it? The Academy, Mars, the stars—they all felt so far away, impossibly distant now. Yet, he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. He had come too far to turn back. There was no future for him on Neoterra, and this—however dangerous—was his only chance.
Another jolt rocked the ship, and the lights flickered, bathing the cabin in eerie shadows. The ship shuddered as if it had been struck by something heavy, and for a second, Claudius thought the hull would tear apart.
Then, without warning, the vibrations stopped.
Claudius blinked, unsure if the sudden calm was a good or bad sign. He unstrapped himself from the harness and stood, feeling the heavy silence of the ship now that the engines were quieter. Had they outrun the pirates?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a loud metallic clang reverberated through the ship, followed by the hiss of airlocks opening. His stomach dropped. The pirates had boarded them.
Claudius rushed down the narrow corridor, heading toward the cargo hold where Draven had stashed the mysterious package. His heart pounded with each step. If the pirates were after something valuable, it was likely in one of the crates, perhaps even the one he was supposed to deliver.
His mind raced. Should he hide? Should he try to protect the package? He wasn't a fighter, but the idea of losing the one thing that guaranteed his passage to Phobos filled him with dread. He had to make sure it stayed safe.
As he rounded the corner into the cargo bay, he stopped dead in his tracks. The air was thick with tension. Four pirates stood inside, their weapons drawn and trained on the ship's crew. At the center of it all was Tobias Draven, his expression unreadable as he stood with his hands raised, facing down the pirates.
"Draven," the pirate leader growled, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek. "You know the rules. You shouldn't be running these parts without paying tribute. What's in your cargo?"
Draven didn't flinch. "Just routine deliveries, Riker. Nothing worth your trouble."
Riker, the pirate leader, let out a low chuckle, stepping forward. "That so? Routine deliveries don't attract this much heat. We scanned your ship—there's something more valuable here. We'll take it all, just to be safe."
Claudius shrank back, trying to remain unnoticed behind a stack of crates. His mind raced. If they found the package… Whatever was inside, Draven had clearly wanted it kept secret. If the pirates discovered it, Claudius's chances of reaching Phobos—and surviving this ordeal—would vanish.
As the pirates moved toward the crates, Draven's voice cut through the tense air. "Careful, Riker. You don't want to cross me."
Riker stopped, glaring at Draven. "And why's that?"
"Because what's in this cargo isn't yours to take," Draven said, his tone cold, almost deadly. "And if you steal it, you'll be making enemies far worse than me. People who won't stop hunting you."
The tension in the room grew even thicker. Claudius felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead as he crouched lower behind the crates. Who were these enemies Draven was talking about?
For a moment, Riker seemed to consider his words. The pirates exchanged glances, clearly unnerved. But then, with a sharp motion, Riker gestured to his men. "Search the crates."
Claudius's heart pounded in his ears. He had to do something—anything. If the pirates found the package, everything was over. But what could he do? He was just a kid from Neoterra with no combat experience, no weapons, and no plan.
As the pirates started rifling through the crates, Claudius spotted something glinting on a nearby shelf. A crowbar—old, rusted, but still usable. Maybe he could distract them, buy some time.
Without thinking, he grabbed it and, with trembling hands, hurled it toward the far end of the cargo bay. The metal bar clanged loudly against the floor, skidding across the room.
The pirates spun around at the sound, weapons raised. "What the hell was that?" one of them muttered, starting toward the noise.
It was now or never.
Claudius darted out from behind the crates, his heart hammering in his chest. In the chaos, he managed to slip past the pirates and grabbed the package from its hiding place. The crate was surprisingly light, almost too light for something Draven had been so protective of.
"Hey!" one of the pirates shouted, spotting him.
Claudius didn't hesitate. He bolted for the cargo bay's exit, package in hand, running faster than he ever had in his life. Behind him, the pirates shouted and cursed, but he didn't look back. His only focus was on escaping.
He raced down the narrow corridors of the ship, adrenaline pushing him forward. Claudius didn't know where to go—only that he needed to hide. His legs burned as he sprinted, his mind clouded with fear and desperation.
Finally, he spotted a maintenance hatch in the floor. It was small, barely big enough for him to fit, but it would have to do. With shaking hands, he pried it open and crawled inside, pulling the package in with him. He closed the hatch just as he heard footsteps thundering down the corridor.
Claudius held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. They were looking for him.
The voices grew closer, then paused just outside the hatch. He could hear the pirates talking, their words muffled but angry.
"Spread out," one of them said. "Find the kid."
Claudius pressed himself against the walls of the tiny space, every muscle tense. If they found him here, it would be over.
The footsteps faded, and Claudius let out a slow, shaky breath. For now, he was safe. But he knew it wouldn't last. The pirates were still on the ship, and it was only a matter of time before they found him—or worse, discovered what he was hiding.
He stared down at the package in his hands, its surface smooth and unmarked. What could possibly be inside that was worth risking so much?
As the ship hummed around him, Claudius realized he was deeper in this dangerous game than he had ever imagined.
And there was no turning back now.