The Darkness was broken first not by sight, but by sound. A rough voice called out into the void, “Man over board!”

“Men,” a second voice corrected. 

A third, hissing rasp drawled a final contradiction, “Children.”

Into view drifted a ship, in many ways similar to an old fashioned sailing vessel like anyone might recognize. The key difference being that it floated not on top of water, but through an expansive void, propelled by rocket thrusters from the back. The sails shimmered like gold in sunlight, and billowed outward as if a wind blew behind them. In fact, what was behind the sails was more nothingness, except for a single, pure beam of white light coming from the very stern of the ship. The source of the light couldn't be made out from this distance. 

The ship pulled up close to where the children floated in the void, and unkind hands pulled them onto the deck. They were held tight, and surrounded by a motley crew of bizarre creatures, many holding weapons, and all leering at them unpleasantly. They were gathered near the middle of three masts, and looking above them they could see how the beam of light from the back hit a rough crystal that was suspended in the air behind the sails. The crystal diffused the beam, spreading the light so that it spilled across the sails. 

If they were indeed looking up, they would also spy a face looking down at them. A man, not really all that much older than the oldest of the key bearers, was leaning his elbows on the railing from the upper deck, his chin resting in his hands lazily as he smiled at the ship’s catch. 

“Vell,” he said, not to anyone in particular it seemed, “Ze key drive seems to vork. And three drifters from vun world, vhat a catch.” His voice was high and delicate, but for some reason this made his bearing all the more unnerving surrounded by this rough sort of person. He appeared to be just the sort of thin, delicate person who should be at the mercy of a group of pirates, rather than leading them. 

“Take zhem to ze brig vith ze ozzers, Lord Vull shall vish to see zhem.” The pirates moved to obey. Faira tried to wrench away, but the insectile being holding her arms increased the pressure from his pincers, and she almost felt the sharp tips pierce her skin. She stopped struggling, but her scowl remained defiant. 

As they were dragged, the captain started calling more commands from his place on the upper deck, “Set sail for Mustafar!”


The children were dragged(or, in Kupori’s case, carried) off toward a hatch and down a steep set of stairs.  Faira almost tripped from trying to yank her feet away from the shadowy, clawed hands that reached out from between the board steps.  Her captor hissed in her ear, “They like you, wonder why?  Maybe we’ll feed you to them.”  

“The last ones I’ve run into didn’t manage to take a bite!”  

He laughed and squeezed her arm until she cried out in pain.  Now they reached a series cages worked into the walls of the hull.  They were all iron bars and big locks, and Faira could see inside.  The one that they shoved the quartet into had only one occupant, and for a horrifying moment, Faira took him for something long dead.  She was almost more horrified when she saw that the thing was moving.  

The pirates left them in the cage with the half dead thing, and no sooner had the hatch above closed than the shadow creatures started to creep around.  They kept their distance, as if conflicted, but the children could see their glowing yellow eyes peering at them intently.  

“What is this place?” Faira murmured, looking down at where that last squeeze had drawn blood that was seeping slowly into the sleeve of her shirt.