The “Nest” was at its capacity to carry the riches from the pirate’s conquest. The commerce ship was a skeleton of its former self, with its metallic coating removed for spare parts. Nothing went to waste, and the Cymins made sure of that. Desniir did not have to do much leading his Cymins, as the pirate routine of looting was ingrained into their genetics. 

Desniir patrolled the halls. He listened to the scurrying of young nymphs in the ventilation shaft above him. His claws gently gripping the handle of his rifle. Despite the recent raid, there was still a chance that there were a few that were still hungry. Those Cymins were the ones he had to watch out for.

“Captain, you have a message from Lord Awa.”

Atta stood behind him, staring at Desniir with her large amber eyes. Desniir felt a trickle of discomfort shoot through his body. Her lack of nagging at him was not a good sign. Desniir grabbed the beacon from Atta’s claws, and read the message. The shiver of unease became a drowning wave. Desniir strangled the beacon in his claws.

“Atta, did you read this?” Desniir asked.

“Captain. There is no secret on this ship that I do not know about.”

“Right. It seems that the Lord is inviting us for a nice retreat at Haven. She is quite jealous of our exploits.”

“Jealous? No, captain. She will neuter this fleet if we go there.”

“That is a price for success.” 

“Success? Captain, what are you referring to?”

Desniir could sense the incoming rant about to unfold. Desniir needed a way out quickly before he would be stuck listening to her suggestions. Over the short period of time on the ship, Desniir had become good at feigning listening. Perhaps too good for his purposes. Atta had endless ideas for him to implement, and Desniir doubted that they were all her own. The Cymins of the ship not only listened to him, but had equal respect for Atta, despite her youthful appearance. Cymin’s do not age differently to all the species in the System. Young Cymin nymphs can control the rate at which they mature into adulthood. Aggressive and biologically immortal, the Cymin species were a hardy lot. Desniir could only speculate on how their home planet shaped their species, as it was destroyed by their sun hundreds of cycles ago. Atta was taking advantage of her ability, letting Desniir take wild guesses of her age, but more importantly her wisdom. If her age was true to the way she spoke, then Desniir would be a fool not to listen. But Desniir was not known for his good choices. 

“Don’t worry, Atta. We will discuss this later. I have something more important to check upon.”  Desniir briskly walked away from Atta before she could follow him. Desniir did not have the heart to argue with the nymph. He knew that going to Haven was a one-way ticket to his undoing, but that would be a problem for future Desniir. But at that moment, another issue preoccupied his mind. In his quarters was the human. 

When Desniir was still at the commerce ship, he tried to awaken the human, or take the object from his hands, but it all proved futile. He left the unconscious human on the floor in his room to recoup from his state. The whole circumstance of the human being within Havana's gift proved too bizarre for Desniir to let go. 

There was no visible way for the human to get in the egg by himself. More likely, it may have been a way to imprison the human. But Desniir knew that this explanation was insufficient. Humans are weak, subjugated by Celestians for hundreds of years. It would be too easy to put imprison the human than to submerge it in a solution. Unless the human was unique in another way. He needed to know what the human was, and more importantly, what the Havana wanted to do with him. If there was the slim chance to use the human against her, then it was an opportunity to not miss. Opening the door to his quarters, he found the human curled up in the corner, staring at him. It did not seem it moved much since he placed him in the room. 

“Human. Can you understand me?” Desniir asked. The human lacked the surgical scars and implants around his head that would indicate that it was a Mix; a thoughtless, loyal cyborg. Mixes were rare, but even rarer were unaltered humans. Desniir could not be sure if the human was even capable of understanding his speech. Desniir also did not know if the human was broken from being in the liquid too long, but the lack of reply was in line with his assumptions. The human fingers were still stained a deep black, and he was visibly shivering. The homeostasis of its body may be off, Desniir thought, I can't let it die this quickly. 

Desniir went over to the wall, it split open to reveal his closet. Filled with capes and piles of treasures from his conquests, it was a mess that Desniir never found the time to organize. Opening a drawer, Desniir took out a Jahren managerial garment tunic he had taken from one of his previous raids. The two piece tunic was a dark indigo, with thousands of glistening jewels each hand sewn into the fabric, to make an image of the System. It had a pleasant floral smell. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship that Desniir appreciated even though he could never wear it. The garment would be a perfect fit for the human.  

When Desniir handed the garment to the human, the human seemed to awaken. At first, the human hesitated. Unsure of Desniir. 

“Take it human. Your species wear clothes, do they not?”

The human continued to still hesitate until Desniir shoved the clothes into his hands. The human raised the clothes towards his chest and bowed slightly before putting it on. There was a slight smile on the human’s face. Desniir knelt down towards eye-level with the human.

“What does the Havana want with a human like yourself? You can’t even understand my words, how can she expect anything from you? Knowing her, she’ll just put you on the bridge for being a mute and an idiot. You're even holding some kind of gastrolith.”

Desniir touched the human’s palm with his claw. The human seemed to understand the Muscan’s intent, as he opened his palm to reveal the object. It was a hilt, black and sleek. Desniir was impressed that the human could have taken it out of his throat. The human curled his fingers around once more, mouthing words of unknown origin. His eyes seemed to glaze over. 

A blinding light emerged from the hilt. Twisting into a double helix. Desniir leaned away from the light. But his curiosity swelled, and he could not help but stare at the human, as he held the sword. The human passed his hand through the blade of light, showing that his hand was uninjured. It was a bizare magic trick, and perhaps the human was a performer of some kind. The blade seemed to have a mind of its own as it formed ghostly images of patterns. But in the light, Desniir saw a familiar sight. There were visages in the light of the blade.  Their voices faint but resonate with the glow. Desniir felt his whole body go numb as memories he had long suppressed in the dark corners of his mind broke through the surface. The feeling of helplessness and fear he thought he would never experience again. 

Desniir through the light grabbed the neck of the human and threw the human on the ground. The human curled up on the floor, coughing. The light blade faded, and the human crawled back to the corner. Desniir had instinctively drawn his rifle and pointed it at the human. Placing his hands around his neck, the human gasped for air.

“What did you do?” Desniir yelled. But all the human could do was stare back, wide eyed. Despite what Desniir had done, Desniir could not smell any fear from the human. The humans look was one of defiance. The human shaking stood up facing him with the hilt in his hand, and bowed once again. There were marks were Desniir had grabbed him, discoloration of red and white. Desniir could not help but freeze during this display. Unsure of what to make of what he saw, Desniir retreated back into the hallway, locking the human inside the room. 

Desniir tried to gather his thoughts. He brushed his fur with his claws, in an attempt to calm himself down. He could not understand what he just saw. Not only that, but he was one of the few to see the last moments of the ones he had cared for the most. How could the human have known? Desniir was in no state to speculate on the answer. But he understood now why the human was locked within the egg. Whatever it was, it was beyond his understanding and control.

“What are you doing with that human?” 

Despite her sudden appearance, Desniir was relieved to see Atta. Nothing on the ship would get past her. 

“It is the Havana’s gift. There is not much, I can assure you that.”

“I doubt your assumption. I heard what happened on the commerce ship. It is evident that you have no thought in your mind. This human is most likely the reason Lord Awa wants to meet with you. Have you killed it?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t.” Atta said. 

“Why shouldn’t I? It is for the product of that Havana sorceress. A weird thing it is but I dont see it being here.”

“Captain. If the Havana wants it back alive, then she would be willing to bargain, would she not?”

The prospect of finagling a reward from the Havana herself was a delightful possibility. She would definetly would hate to stoop herself to a lower being like him. But Desniir was not sure if he could have the human in his quarters for that long. Atta eyes seemed to glance over to the door. She was curious about the human, no doubt about it.  Desniir despite his trust in Atta as his executive officer, there was little trust he had in any Cymin’s ability to deal with the human. The human’s weak demeanor would trigger their feeding senses, and despite Desniir’s own apprehension of the oddity that was the human, he could only trust himself on the matter. 

“He will be staying in my quarters for now.” Desniir spoke. “Do not go in or allow anyone else in. I do not want to clean blood off my walls.”

“Yes Captain.”

But Desniir himself did not want to approach the human. What he heard in the light was the same from the day he fell from the sky, and ruined his life. The clawing of the souls in his mind that tore in his memories and his spirit. He had no doubt the purpose of the human had to deal with Havana Lu’s ultimate weapon, the Red Pyramid.