Eradicator

by Chris Fox

  I poured everything we collectively had into that spell, and a bolt that could have cored a planet burst from our cannon, and added to the collective fury the Flame and Spellship were already generating.

  The Wrath’s wards flickered wildly…but held. It had stood up to the full punishment all three Great Ships could offer.

  22

  Implode

  The ferocity from the Flame and Spellship never slackened, and I tried a second void bolt, and a third. Somehow the wards continued to protect the Wrath, though the footage playing in the corner of my screen showed me that early in the battle the Flame had gotten a shot through and done a little damage, so it was possible.

  So why were we failing now? Had Necrotis found some new way to reinforce the wards? Worship or something else?

  I fired another bolt, and another. After the fifth I finally admitted it wasn’t working, and turned my attention toward the surviving necromancer fleet. A single shot from the main cannon stripped away eighty percent of their remaining ships, and the last few would be easily overwhelmed by the defenders. At least I’d settled that fight.

  If we couldn’t directly stop her, then at least I could prevent her from doing additional damage in this system.

  “Sir, we have another missive. It’s Lady Voria.”

  I gave her a weary nod and she put it up on the scry-screen. There were so many little windows now. “I can see we’re not getting through with void bolts. Jerek, were you able to master the disintegrate spell during your training?”

  “No,” I admitted, hating the word. “The best I’ve got is implode.” Then I straightened. “That might be enough though. We haven’t used the staves together…”

  “…I see where you’re going with this.” Voria brightened and returned my smile. “I’m guiding the Spellship closer to the Word. We’ll get as close as we can, and see if that causes the spell amplification we witnessed when we cleansed the Flame.”

  I could feel strength surge in Ardaki, who hovered just outside the matrix. Getting closer to Ikadra was empowering him, and also strengthening me. The Flame and especially the Spellship launched renewed assaults, and the Wrath’s wards flickered wildly. They were giving me an opening.

  I reached deep for all the void I could summon, and then I salted it with my rage and indignation, at this woman and all she had done. Frit had seemed like a good person, even if her people weren’t the best.

  My hull had nearly touched the Spellship now, and the amplification rolled through Ardaki as the Spellship fed us, and we them. Both vessels grew stronger, and the Wrath’s wards flickered.

  “Now,” I growled, and unleashed hell upon them.

  Void bolts had bounced off, but the implode spell materialized past their flagging defenses, and my first shot detonated inside their primary cannon. Smoke, debris, bone, and other unidentifiable matter belched out of the wound I’d created, as I ended my opponent’s ability to threaten Yanthara directly. That cannon would never fire again, without some serious repairs.

  I tapped all four void sigils again, and prepared to fire once we’d recharged, but as I watched, the Wrath simply vanished, as Nara had vanished. Necrotis had arrived via the Depths for a reason. Because she wanted to be able to flee.

  Anger and frustration warred within me, but I relaxed a hair when I saw the glittering green jewel below me. We’d saved Yanthara, even if it had cost the Krox their current leader, and the most powerful goddess within the pantheon.

  The last of the necromancer fleet withered under the combined ferocity of our remaining forces, and just like that the battle was over. We’d won, if this counted as a victory.

  Interlude IX - Victory

  Had Necrotis still possessed a beating heart it would have thundered in her chest. The Wrath appeared deep within the Sanctuary storm, the incredible winds buffeting the wards, but a pale imitation of the fury they had just avoided.

  For the first time, for a single instant, Necrotis had glimpsed her own destruction. Her wards had repelled most of their direct assaults, which itself was a victory. During the engagements the dragonflights had waged against the necromancers no Great Ship had ever sustained so much punishment and lived.

  “Is it over?” Her soulcatcher leaned onto the bridge, then took a few tentative steps closer when she didn’t answer. “We survived.”

  “Narrowly.” Necrotis shivered. She had badly miscalculated, but through luck, or chance, she had survived her own folly. “And we will need to work to repair what has occurred today.”

  “You slew Frit in the skies of her world.” Kurz’s frown said he didn’t approve of her actions there. “Your dragon will be the talk of SEIZURE for weeks. Everyone is terrified of Tuat. Your worship must be greatly increased.”

  She nodded at that, and then did something she’d not done in fourteen millennia. Necrotis removed her mask and showed Kurz her full face. “Do you see the lines around my eyes? They are new, I assure you. Every day the strain of containing so much worship grows. This vessel, though powerful, can only contain so much divinity. My worship swells, but even I have limits. Still, I have not reached them, though in the next few minutes I may.”

  She replaced her mask and noted from the corner of her eye that Kurz watched her thoughtfully, and with an emotion she’d not expected. The very best emotion she could have spied.

  Love. The poor fool had fallen in love with her. He might not desire her physically, though she didn’t rule that out, but tolerance had become admiration, and now the poor fool thought he saw the version of her that no one really knew existed.

  Necrotis waved at the scry-screen, which began recording an upload for her SEIZURE account. More and more that seemed the most dominant platform, and it was the one she most enjoyed using, as it involved streaming grandiose speeches such as this one.

  “Citizens of the Confederacy.” Necrotis smiled up at the screen. “Today I have removed the first piece of your pantheon, but I have done so much more than that. Over the next few weeks the jungles of the planet Yanthara will wither and die. Anyone still living on that world will also wither and die. Observe.”

  She transmitted the footage of her vessels raining the deadly magical toxin into their atmosphere.

  “Any food grown on this world,” she continued, the footage still playing, “will cause the person eating it to shrivel and waste away. You will no longer be capable of receiving nutrients from food, and no matter how much you eat…you will starve. Your leaders have failed you. They cannot stop me. They will tell you that they won today, that I fled the field of battle. Not so. I accomplished what I set out to do, and then I departed to tend to other business. Tuat, the Wyrm God of Death, comes at my call. One by one the self-styled Pantheon of the Confederacy will be stripped away and devoured. Prepare yourselves, and decide, which side will you be on? The side of light, and truth, and life? Or the side that will win? Decide, or I will decide for you.”

  She killed the recording and decided against a second take. That adequately captured what she needed them to know, and as confirmation a tremendous wave of worship flowed to her through thousands of new covenants.

  “That was horrifying,” Kurz whispered, “but also incredibly effective. I don’t see how the Confederacy can recover from this, unless they hunt us down with all their Great Ships.”

  “And does that idea displease you? The idea of my survival?” She turned toward him, and eyed the boy searchingly. “Do you wish to return to them? I will send you now, if you want to go.”

  “No.” His answer was as immediate as it was fierce. “If you promise me you won’t harm my sister, and won’t require me to betray my conscience, then…I’d like to stay and learn from you.”

  “Done.” She smiled and folded her arms into the sleeves of her robes. “I will teach you all you need to know to be the most powerful soulcatcher to have ever arisen from your people.”

  “What do you plan to do next?” Kurz’s question came eagerly, and filled her with joy.
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  “You’ll see when we arrive.” She smiled savagely up at the scry-screen, which showed the results on social media. People were flooding the video, and sharing it by the millions. “We are powerful, it is true, and with Tuat we are stronger still. But two gods a pantheon does not make. We need allies, and so I will recruit more gods to our cause. But first, perhaps you and I could spend some time celebrating. We have accomplished much this day.”

  She glided off the bridge, toward her quarters, and her soulcatcher trotted dutifully after.

  23

  Minister of What

  The next few hours were a flurry of reports as I met with everyone from Visala to Bortel. We’d blown a number of critical systems when firing, and now the whole firing mechanism apparently needed repair.

  But the lesson was clear. We’d flown into victory, and won because we’d been prepared, and trained. Everything we’d been through helped with that.

  I don’t know what time it was when I finally turned to take care of the next task, and found myself face to face with Minister Ramachan. She wore her casual pantsuit, and carried a datapad…the tools of a politician. Ramachan frowned as she stalked over, and fixed me with a stare that had probably intimidated a lot of people over the years.

  It had never intimidated my mother, and it didn’t intimidate me.

  “What can I do for you, Minister?” I didn’t bother trying to force a smile. Ramachan wasn’t someone I hated, but she also wasn’t someone I wanted to go out of my way to help now that the connection to my mother had been so tragically severed.

  “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.” She raised a dark eyebrow. “I do not appreciate being…handled by underlings.”

  “I don’t really care what you do or do not appreciate.” I gave her my full attention and used the sudden anger to straighten my posture and shake off the exhaustion. “Did you need something? Or are you here to try to flex your power? Because we have a war to win, and from what I’ve seen your primary skill set seems to be making that harder. As far as I’m concerned you aren’t the minister of anything that matters to me.”

  The minister blinked at me, her surprise total. We’d never been close, but I’d usually been respectful. I just didn’t have the patience any more. Not after everything I’d been through in the last year.

  “It saddens me that we’ve come to this.” Ramachan folded her arms and fixed me with a disapproving frown. “You are the captain of this vessel, Jerek, as your mother was before you. She trusted me. I wish you would too. You’re intelligent and capable, but you lack the experience to—”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Bortel strode up and laughed at the minister. He doffed his cap and scrubbed fingers through a beard that had quickly grown out of control. “The captain just guided us through a fleet battle and drove a Great Ship from the field of battle. He’s trained as an eradicator. He saved this ship, and all the kids on it, even when they were up against trained professionals. Against me. He has experience, and he’s getting more every day. Remind me what your qualifications are, exactly, to deal with anything? Our planet died on your watch. Jerek brought the guilty parties to justice, not you.”

  It was the longest speech Bortel had ever given, and it had the desired effect. The minister’s mouth worked, and she stalked off the bridge. We both waited until she’d gone to share a relieved laugh.

  “You know she’ll be back.” Bortel shook his head in her direction. “Can’t be rid of her that easily, but at least we bought ourselves some time.”

  “Thank you for that.” I offered a grateful nod. “I just couldn’t today. Not after…everything. Voria can deal with her for the time being.”

  “Today alters the war.” Bortel loosened his collar, and surveyed the bridge crew with clear pride. “If Necrotis was telling the truth about Yanthara, then we’re due for a famine that will cripple Ternus, and many smaller colonies. Kemet would have been devastated by a move like this, if it were still around.”

  “I can’t fix that.” I ducked out of the matrix, finally. It was time for me to get some rest, and let my crew do their jobs. “What I can fix is me, and our ability to fight. Krox training was worthless. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t worthwhile training out there. I can’t cast disintegrate yet. Today implode got the job done, but only because there were gaps in her wards.”

  “So what do you have in mind?” Bortel withdrew his vape pen and savored a long draw. He held it for many moments, then exhaled through his nostrils.

  “I’m going to ask Nara to put in a good word with the demons.” I rested a hand on Dez. The idea of it terrified me. I’d heard all sorts of stories about demons, but thus far exactly none of them had proven true. “I want to study on Xal. I want to take the Word back to the god who made it, and see if they’ll help us fully restore him. I want to see if Aran will give me void magic, and make me strong enough to cast a full disintegrate.”

  “You’ve got big brass ones, son.” Bortel shook his head, then took another long draw. His eyes had gone slightly bloodshot, and he looked a good deal more relaxed. “I wouldn’t have the stones. There are millions of demons there, and just because one or two used to be war heroes it doesn’t mean they won’t tear you apart.”

  “Maybe.” I glanced at the scry-screen behind me, which showed Yanthara and the sea of debris from the massive battle that had been fought there. “Necrotis will be ready for me next time. She didn’t expect me today. When she does, who’s to say that she won’t send this Tuat after me? Can you think of anywhere safer to be than training with Xal’Aran? Or one of the other demon princes? Either way we need to get them into the war. If they’d been here, today would have been a real victory.”

  “I can just imagine the Earthmother’s Bulwark crashing through the Wrath.” Bortel gave an amused chuckle and replaced his pen in his pants pocket. “All right, I’ll get the crew working. Xal is a good clip through the Depths, so if you decide you’re definitely going to do this send me an official order. Also, a reminder that the minister will try to block you from taking the vessel out of this system, or any other. She might be able to get various docking authorities to prevent you from docking.”

  I hesitated at that. I couldn’t counter Ramachan if she chose to play that game. But I knew someone who could. “Track down Visala in person. Explain the situation. Please tell her that you, me, and several other handpicked officers have requested a lesson in political machinations. She’s going to handle our minister problem, and ensure we don’t sit out the war due to red tape.”

  “I’m on it.” Bortel strode purposefully from the bridge, which left me peering at the bridge crew. Not a one looked up from their posts, and they all worked with the hyper efficiency of those who love their jobs and take them seriously.

  The ship was in good hands.

  24

  Next Steps

  Twenty-four hours later the Word of Xal was still parked in the Yanthara system, alongside the Spellship, but the Flame of Knowledge had departed during the night, probably to return home to Krox space where they could lick their wounds and replace Frit as a leader.

  We were scheduled to meet and plan strategy, and I don’t know if they included me as a courtesy, but I was determined not just to show up, but to contribute something relevant.

  I stopped by Briff’s quarters on the way to the meeting, and rang the chime outside his door. He and I had gone years without knocking, but when your best friend expresses romantic interest in your sister, you knock, or risk mental scars from things you can’t unsee.

  The door dissolved, and revealed spacious chambers that didn’t look all that different from mine. Briff was in shifted form, and had just started buckling on his spellcannon. I noticed him watching a holo and mimicking the main character, who also carried a spellcannon.

  “Okay, wipes,” Briff barked in a Yantharan accent. “It’s time to get greased.”

  He spun around to face me, and maintained his imitation of Crewes. “Ah, yeah, it’s t
ime to wack some Krox.”

  I laughed and damned if it didn’t feel good. Briff grinned sheepishly.

  “You look great, bud.” I glanced around, and while there was no sign of Rava, I did note that her charger had been attached on one side of the bed, and several articles of her clothing littered the floor. “You ready for this meeting?”

  “Yeah, I can’t believe we’re included, and that, like, you’re bringing me.” Briff straightened, and fluffed his wings. “We really matter. What we say makes a difference. They’re actually listening to us.”

  I straightened too. We did matter, and not through luck, or happenstance, but because we’d done what needed to be done so many times that they were looking to us. Was that how Aran, and Nara, and Crewes, and Voria had gotten where they were?

  “Guardian,” I spoke confidently, and Kemet’s void-sculpted form appeared a few feet away, the hatchling smiling at us with the same pride Briff wore. “Can you conduct us to the Spellship, please?”

  “Of course, Captain. And may I say…you do us proud. Will you be bringing Ardaki?” Kemet tapped his staff against the deck twice and made some impressive sparkles

  I considered that, then extended my hand and willed Ardaki to appear. The staff came, and I could feel the power in the metal even through my armor. So much power. Would we have driven Necrotis from the field without both Ardaki and Ikadra? I didn’t think so.

  The staff said nothing as Guardian whisked us from Briff’s quarters to the same hangar bay I’d arrived on during my first visit to the Spellship, when I’d narrowly dodged being assassinated.

  Pickus stood waiting, and offered an eager wave as he hurried over with that buck-toothed smile. “Jerek! You made it. Briff, you look amazing. We’re about to get started. If you’ll follow me I’ll bring you to the meeting. Almost everyone else is already here.”