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1: The Dunes (Draft of 1st Chapter of Pillars of Harlock)
🕑 Added 2023-09-15 20:52:35 +0000 UTCNote: Hello! This is a draft of a 1st chapter of something I'm working on. (Don't worry, this will NOT interfere with Pawn Shop Dungeon's release schedule. This is just a side project that I'm tinkering with at the moment. Please feel free to read it or ignore it :). If this is something that you would like more of, or are interested in beta reading, please let me know in the comments! This will be more of a scifi/fantasy that follows a Treasure Hunter.
Chapter 1: The Dunes
Planet Iria - Cycle 4944
Orvo punched a gloved finger into several buttons without a response. The power supply on his ship went out just as he passed through Iria’s atmosphere.
At his current speed, he’d explode on impact. His body pushed forward, feeling exponentially heavier due to the pressure. Now that he was through the worst of the heat, Orvo labored to lift his hand, but managed to grab the mechanical emergency lever and pulled.
The kevlar parachutes popped out of the back, slowing the pilot G57-Tulip down. The interior burned with heat as the ship was engulfed in white-hot flame. He could feel pieces of the exterior ripping or melting off.
His lungs struggled through the pressure, but he managed to breathe, fogging up the visor of his helmet.
Just what I need. A broken suit, Orvo thought and ripped it off his head with a herculean effort. He needed full vision right now. Just get close enough to the pillar. His prized box, tucked into his suit, pressed against his chest.
A jolt that made Orvo’s insides rise told him that the back half of the Tulip had ripped off, taking the parachutes with it. He braced for impact as the sand dunes drew closer and closer.
I was so close.
The angle the remainder of his ship traveled was perfect for landing, but his human body might not be strong enough to handle impact. He pressed the flotation button on his suit, puffing it with air.
I might make it.
The ship grazed the first sand dune, skipping like a flat rock on a still lake. It skipped again, and again. Each time pressing the box harder against Orvo’s chest.
A wave of sand was the last thing Orvo saw before everything went still. Miraculously, he never lost consciousness. The sand slid off of the window of his single Tulip, revealing a scene of the dunes and Harlock’s Pillar in the distance.
Iria was hot at an average temperature of 127 degrees Fahrenheit and completely devoid of water, but to Orvo, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
At least I stuck the landing without crushing the cockpit.
The entire planet was a barren wasteland, except for one thing. The last link of Harlock’s Necklace.
With that knowledge, Orvo hadn’t let himself be overcome with panic. He had the map and the rest of the necklace in the precious box, currently digging into his sternum. If he found the last link to Harlock’s Necklace, he wouldn’t need any food, water, or the ship.
Everyone had called him a crackpot for hunting the necklace. Everyone except for Dailo.
— — —
Planet Salago - Cycle 4932
“Young Orvo, please tell me that you don’t believe in that bollocks. Harlock’s Necklace is a myth,” a rotund man in his late 50s guffawed, nursing a ceramic glass of ale at a tavern table, surrounded by his crew.
“It’s real Dailo. I have proof,” Orvo said. His blue eyes shone in the light, contrasted by his dark brown hair.
Dailo and his crew laughed, “Please, show me this proof you think you have.”
Orvo bit his lip. He didn’t need to prove anything to Dailo, but the excitement of finding the first link was too much to hold in. He fished a small box, normally used for expensive jewelry, out of his pocket.
“Going to propose to ‘ol Dailo, lad?” One of the men jeered.
Orvo shot him a stern look then shrugged him off. Slowly, he opened the box revealing a jade link. The men stopped jeering and stared. The tiny link, only as large as a toddler’s tooth, wouldn’t have impressed most, but every Treasure Hunter had heard of Harlock’s Necklace.
“Bring it closer, boy,” Dailo whispered.
“Don’t touch it,” Orvo commanded, yet he still obliged and brought the small box closer before Dailo agreed.
The jade link carried a hint of magic about it. Dailo and his crew could feel it as strongly as Orvo at that moment. Real magic hadn’t existed in thousands of years, but here it was.
“What do you want for it?” Dailo asked, never taking his eyes off of the link.
“Not for sale,” Orvo said and snapped the box shut. “Believe me now?”
One of the crewmen gave Dailo a quizzical look. Dailo shook his head slightly and answered Orvo. “That’s just the first link. You’ll never find them all.”
Orvo had watched the exchange and scoffed at the crewmember. Very subtle, he thought as he turned his attention back to Dailo. “Maybe, maybe not. But that’s not why we’re in this business. You know that. If I fall short, I can sell it for a pretty penny to the next Hunter.”
“True enough,” Dailo said, stroking his large chin. He snapped his fingers as thick as cigars, and one of his men handed him a small satchel. Dailo pulled out a piece of paper and carefully slid it to Orvo. “Look me up if you change your mind and decide to sell early.”
Orvo unfolded the piece of paper and skimmed over it. “This is a travel pass signed by the Grand Admiral himself,” he said in disbelief.
“Aye, keep your voice down,” Dailo said, crossing his arms.
“You’ll be the first person I come to,” Orvo said, pocketing the paper.
— — —
Planet Iria - Cycle 4944
Orvo now held a slightly larger box containing 99 links of various metals, stone, wood, and bone. Also enclosed was his precious map – not that he needed it. Every detail was burned into his memory from poring over it obsessively this last year. Most of his money had gone to upgrading the box over time, ensuring that no harm would come to the contents inside. Satisfied that the box had been undamaged, he zipped it back into his suit. Always keep it close to the chest.
The last link was on Iria, but the element it was made of was a mystery. Still, it was here. He was here. Once he completed the chain – immortality and Harlock’s power were his. The tall tale every Treasure Hunter heard as a child would become his reality.
The air inside his small ship was already hot, but he dreaded opening the hatch, exposing himself to the viscous heat of Iria’s sun. Orvo delayed that by snapping his safety belts off and taking stock of his small ship.
Everything was destroyed. His food, water, even his emergency supplies had been blasted away during the landing.
In this heat, without water, he had a maximum of three days to find his treasure.
Overall, he was in good shape despite nursing severely sore muscles. Orvo sent a mental thanks to the gods that he hadn’t suffered any broken bones or brain trauma.
Most people would be in a panic right about now, but Orvo had made it to the last leg of his journey. Something that even he thought impossible all those years ago, showing off the jade link to Dailo and his men. If he died here, he would still be a legend among Treasure Hunters.
Orvo was the name on every Treasure Hunter’s lips before he snuck off for Iria. The man who gathered 99 links of Harlock’s Necklace. Death would only mean that his name lived on in immortality as future Treasure Hunters searched for his remains and the treasure he now carried.
Dailo better be keeping them off my trail.
Among the wreckage, he managed to find his fully charged Skarn Pistol – good enough to blast a hole through his ship exactly 100 times over before running out of ammo
Staying and repairing the ship was out of the question. It would take him months, and that was if he could find the proper materials, which he doubted. Nobody had been to Iria in over a thousand years to his knowledge. The only material he had read was by a science team that documented the desolate planet. At first glance, it appeared nothing had changed since Cycle 2314
“I’ll be back, Tulip,” Orvo announced. The pillar looked to only be a few hours hike away. Another blessing that he hadn’t been thrown too far off course.
With some urgency, Orvo began snapping open the exit hatch. He was immediately greeted with a wave of hot air and sand. The sand stuck to his face, embedding itself into his skin. He didn’t care. His excitement to find the link boiled over.
He stopped himself from running out into the sand in his excitement and with a sigh, he grabbed his helmet and stuffed it in his pack. If the sand became too bothersome, he’d use it to shield his face.
Without even consulting the map, Orvo headed “East” as far as this planet was concerned. He knew the direction he needed to go.
At his walking pace, he didn’t know the exact distance he’d be able to travel in a day, but he estimated around 20 miles. Perhaps less as the sand was soft and rolled in small, ever-shifting hills.
Orvo briefly wondered what may lurk within these dunes, resting a hand on his pistol.
Nothing could survive here, he assured himself.
Only two hours later, Orvo’s mouth was dry and caked with sand. Not too much further, he thought.
Movement to his right startled him out of his thoughts. He snapped his eyes in the direction but didn’t see anything.
Just the wind, most likely.
More movement. Just beneath the surface of the sand – closer.
Not good.
Orvo grabbed his pistol and aimed at the spot. Another wiggle, but slightly to the left. He fired – a billow of sand sprayed into the air.
Movement to the right, even closer. Another shot.
The movement beneath the sand vanished. Orvo hoped that he hit whatever it was, or at the very least, scared it off. At the risk of drumming up more of the beasts, Orvo took off at a light jog toward the pillar – hoping to put some distance between himself and the creature.
A couple of sand beasts can’t stop me. Perhaps it was just my imagination. I’ve heard that the desert plays tricks on one’s mind.
An hour had passed and there hadn’t been any more movement in the sand. Content that he had either killed or scared the beast away, Orvo slowed to a walk. He’d be at the pillar in just another mile or two.
Dehydration had already set into Orvo as a headache came on. Chancing a look back, he groaned. Dozens of lumps in the sand scurried about, traveling in his direction.
Grinding the sand between his teeth, Orvo pulled out the Skarn and fired three shots at the lumps before turning and running once again.
Behind him, he could hear sprays of sand and an occasional shriek akin to a bat. Orvo willed his legs to pump faster despite the soft surface of the dunes. The sand worked against him, almost pulling him down. With each step the noises got closer until he was nearly upon the pillar.
Finally, he reached it and whirled around with his pistol ready. The lumps were zipping around beneath the sand in a frenzy.
Only, they were ten meters away. They circled around the pillar, never coming closer than that.
Are they scared of it? Orvo eyed the lumps for ten minutes as he caught his breath. Not once did they approach him. Their movement began to slow and the shapes dispersed.
Not wanting to question his good fortune any longer, he turned back toward the pillar and slapped his hands on it, “I did it. Twelve Cycles later I’ve goddamn done it,” he cheered in a hoarse voice.
What now? He wondered. The pillar was plain as could be. A smooth stone that reached a hundred feet in the air. Orvo walked around the pillar a dozen times, looking for any sign.
Perhaps the link is under the pillar? Orvo hated treasure hunts that ended in large-scale excavation but started digging with his hands anyway. It didn’t take long for him to run into solid caliche. This wasn’t something to celebrate. If the link was below a layer of caliche, he’d never retrieve it. Heavy machinery would be required to dig through it.
“Come on, Harlock. Give me a sign here. What the hell am I supposed to do?” Orvo whispered at the pillar. Sweat beaded down his forehead and he leaned it against the stone pillar in thought.
The moment his wet skin touched the stone, the pillar greedily drank in his sweat and Orvo heard a grinding sound. A “drawer”, for lack of a better word, pushed out of the pillar, just to his left.
