Page 100 of Star Claimed Omega
The further down it sank, past the lower decks, the colder the lighting and temperature became.
Gone were the warm steel walls of the upper decks.
Down here, things were built in a different age: paranoia had shaped this sector, and it had never been meant to see light again.
Soon, darkness cloaked the gigantic cavity, all except for the eerie bioluminescent lamps set at intervals.
Ten minutes later, they went through an extensive shield, coded to their bio-signals.
Moments later, they arrived at the old-world cryo-box detention rig, shaped like a jagged cube of gunmetal and synth glass.
The walls shimmered with containment fields, and the hovercraft docked outside a large view panel looking into the prisoner’s sealed chamber.
A man lay sprawled on a synth-couch inside the bare cell, the lights dim.
His prison sweats were a stale, institutional gray.
The fabric hung loose over his once-broad shoulders, the muscle beneath withered by time.
His red hair had dulled to a dry, coppery, and ashy blend, stringy and flattened to one side.
Lines etched his pale skin, creases from years without sunlight, and madness curled behind those wily, shark-bright eyes.
Varnok Gage was hard, hoary, and hairy asfokk.
Santi’s lips twisted as he recognized the man he and Xander had once strong-armed into this prison, after a citywide search that ended in a gunfire inferno.
Hundreds of innocents had died by Varnok’s hand during those chaos-blighted days, leading to his brutal monikers:The Carmine Cardinal and the Mad Wolf King.
AKA The Butcher of Vael’Na’ra.
The man in question glanced up with a smirk. ‘My my,fokkme timbers, I’ve not seen me a human since forever.’
His accent was an eerie cocktail of old aristocracy and gutter filth.
He bent forward to take a closer look at the pair.
‘Heck, you’re no mere humans, you’re freakin lycan spirits in flesh form,’ he drawled, stretching with deliberate insolence. ‘Pretty too. Wait, you’re the Signet warriors who captured me. Hoorah, a reunion.’
Kaal raised a brow. ‘Still got that tongue. Shame no one’s been around to bite it off.’
Santi leaned against the barrier. ‘We brought news, Gage. Figured you’d want to hear about the outside world. Maybe even get in on the gossip.’
Varnok snorted. ‘The only rumor I care about is who finally blows up the Signet packs, and how large their balls are.’
Santi feigned a chuckle. ‘Well, it’s our balls that deserve the praise because we did space a few dozenRed Skullscapos on our bridge.’
Varnok’s jaw ticked, but he covered it up with a nonchalant shrug.
‘A shame,’ Varnok muttered, examining his cuticles. ‘My brother tends to pick the worst talent.’
Santi remained relaxed and smiled, charming, even lazy.
‘We come bearing no ill will, just questions, not torture,’ he rasped. ‘Unless you prefer the latter.’
Varnok laughed, a raspy, corroded sound. ‘Whatever you need from me, I won’t share it even if I’m knee-deep in blood.’
The Signet pair glanced at each other and stepped forward.
