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It was not long before Ridley’s wingspan cast a dark shadow across the ground beneath him. Liv had given him a frustratingly vague outline of the area to work through, but at least she was relatively certain of what lay within. He had told her often enough about the insectoid Zebesians he was so familiar with working with, their role in the space pirate culture, that putting together the pieces had taken no time for her diabolical mind to process, and finding the signal - at least, of these ones - had taken her no time. Perhaps more were hidden in crevices in other places. Or perhaps Mesa Roja simply had more secrets for Olivia’s scanners to pick through.
It was immaterial. Ridley’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the ground beneath, finding a perch quickly, and sniffed familiar scents in the air. Scents of a pollution that clung, even so far and so long away from the homeworld. Of cybernetics and leaking blood. Of Chitin and guts that were never quite fully concealed.
Ridley descended upon the sandstone beneath with a clatter, a low growl erupting from his gut from pure instinct as he snapped his head back and forth across the surroundings. Jagged spikes of rock created an oasis from the sandstorms, though not a complete one, and the shadow of the land hid…
A cave. And Ridley could smell traces of smoke further in.
His feet shook the sandstone with every step. Hopefully, this was the soldier caste, set to return, and as Ridley stepped into the cave, he found….
That he was merely close in that estimation, and not nearly close enough.
“Lord Ridley!”
“See, what did I say? ‘Lord Ridley will surely save us! Let’s just wait!”
“Oh my god, we’re not going to die out here!”
Ridley leaned into the cave wall to see the shouting forms of the cheering Zebesians and his mouth fell slightly with disgust.
He’d found his old bridge crew.
“We’ve been stranded for a year now! How did you find us, my lord!”
“Did you bring food?!”
“You’re looking good. Did you…”
Ridley didn’t bother to respond with words, and went with a bestial screech they had learned from experience meant to Shut. Up.
The Glimmering bugmen went quiet, as the insectoids walked forward, remembering themselves. Though partially tribal, their naval uniforms tattered and faded, they remembered their master all the same.
His gaze passed across them, and they all put a hand to their chest before getting to one knee.
“Lord Ridley!” they echoed as one.
The One clad in yellow - Gizzex, navigations - stepped forward. “It has been too long, Lord Ridley. Forgive us for forcing you to find us. Nevertheless, me and the crew are ready to serve once again. Let us cut a swathe through the galaxy together.”
Ridley curled his lip to a smile. They were goofy and cowardly, but he had missed a proper bridge crew. He tolerated their eccentricities because it kept them an effective starship crew. - their unlikely fear and particular brand of nonsense kept them creative. It also kept them willing to entertain feints, retreats, and other tactics necessary past ‘smash’ in the vacuum of space. These little headaches were his key to wresting control of the beyond from those on the worlds below, and now, nothing would stand in Ridley’s way.
The Dragon’s sickly smile radiated with malice. This was the last piece to the puzzle. The last requirement before he could show his strength in full.
The Pirate Lord Ridley had a ship, allies, and a crew, and together, they would make the Crossroads fear the day they first heard the name, “WYVERN”.
It was immaterial. Ridley’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the ground beneath, finding a perch quickly, and sniffed familiar scents in the air. Scents of a pollution that clung, even so far and so long away from the homeworld. Of cybernetics and leaking blood. Of Chitin and guts that were never quite fully concealed.
Ridley descended upon the sandstone beneath with a clatter, a low growl erupting from his gut from pure instinct as he snapped his head back and forth across the surroundings. Jagged spikes of rock created an oasis from the sandstorms, though not a complete one, and the shadow of the land hid…
A cave. And Ridley could smell traces of smoke further in.
His feet shook the sandstone with every step. Hopefully, this was the soldier caste, set to return, and as Ridley stepped into the cave, he found….
That he was merely close in that estimation, and not nearly close enough.
“Lord Ridley!”
“See, what did I say? ‘Lord Ridley will surely save us! Let’s just wait!”
“Oh my god, we’re not going to die out here!”
Ridley leaned into the cave wall to see the shouting forms of the cheering Zebesians and his mouth fell slightly with disgust.
He’d found his old bridge crew.
“We’ve been stranded for a year now! How did you find us, my lord!”
“Did you bring food?!”
“You’re looking good. Did you…”
Ridley didn’t bother to respond with words, and went with a bestial screech they had learned from experience meant to Shut. Up.
The Glimmering bugmen went quiet, as the insectoids walked forward, remembering themselves. Though partially tribal, their naval uniforms tattered and faded, they remembered their master all the same.
His gaze passed across them, and they all put a hand to their chest before getting to one knee.
“Lord Ridley!” they echoed as one.
The One clad in yellow - Gizzex, navigations - stepped forward. “It has been too long, Lord Ridley. Forgive us for forcing you to find us. Nevertheless, me and the crew are ready to serve once again. Let us cut a swathe through the galaxy together.”
Ridley curled his lip to a smile. They were goofy and cowardly, but he had missed a proper bridge crew. He tolerated their eccentricities because it kept them an effective starship crew. - their unlikely fear and particular brand of nonsense kept them creative. It also kept them willing to entertain feints, retreats, and other tactics necessary past ‘smash’ in the vacuum of space. These little headaches were his key to wresting control of the beyond from those on the worlds below, and now, nothing would stand in Ridley’s way.
The Dragon’s sickly smile radiated with malice. This was the last piece to the puzzle. The last requirement before he could show his strength in full.
The Pirate Lord Ridley had a ship, allies, and a crew, and together, they would make the Crossroads fear the day they first heard the name, “WYVERN”.