by Chris Fox
“Sarge?” Bord raised his hand.
“Put your hand down. This ain’t a gods-damned classroom, Private.” He frowned at the kid, but Bord seemed immune to it. “What do you want?”
“Why does your armor look different?” He pointed at the sergeant’s larger, battle-scored suit.
“Because mine ain’t your typical Mark V. I got a Mark VII, a set of heavy armor,” he explained. “That cannon you see? That will take down an enforcer in one shot if I hit it right.”
Bord gave a low whistle.
“What about ours, sir?” Kezia asked, fiercely, as she’d done everything so far. He found himself liking the drifter.
“You’re going to be using a heavy spellrifle, which is no joke.” He walked over to one of the Mark Vs and took the rifle from its hands. “This is heavier than the standard model you’ve been training with. It will pull more magic per shot, which means you have fewer shots before you run dry. But the point of spellarmor ain’t to get you in range so you can shoot. It’s so you can kill up close, without having to use up your magic.”
He walked over to the wall, which contained a number of oversized weapons. Crewes hefted a hammer that made even him strain, and carried it over to the spellarmor. He dropped it in front of the closest suit.
“Private Kezia, since you’re Bord’s personal protector, we’ll start with you.” He gestured at the armor, and when she didn’t immediately move toward it, he went into parade mode. “Are you mentally deficient? Maybe your invitation got lost in the mail.”
Kezia hurried over to the armor, and reached up to make the void sigil before the chest. The armor went momentarily translucent, and she was able to slip inside. After the drifter was inside, the armor went solid again. She turned and picked up the hammer in one hand. “Okay, I’m ready to smash some Krox!”
“What about the rest of you?” Crewes barked. “Move, people!”
One by one, they began donning armor as Kezia had. Crewes tried to keep his face impassive, but seeing them struggle terrified him. The Krox would identify these suits as the real threat, and they would come fast and hard.
When that time came, how would these untrained kids fair? Badly. And he’d need to be there to pick up the pieces.
4
Hunting
Voria guided the Hunter closer to the planet, and the aging starship’s hull groaned ominously as it dealt with the pull of gravity and the friction from the upper atmosphere. Ahead of her, two Ternus destroyers had broken away from the rest of the fleet, their chrome hulls catching the sun as they crested the planet’s horizon.
The rest of the Ternus fleet broke into several groups, each moving to flank one of the Krox troop carriers aimed at their cities. It was a pitiful resistance, a mere handful of vessels going for each target. Voria knew it was unlikely that any would survive the day, though she suspected that if they stopped the carriers, every last Ternus soldier would consider it a fair trade.
She tapped a fire sigil, then a dream. The missive spell wasn’t costly, but a small portion of magic rolled from her into the ship. It all added up.
The scry-screen lit, and showed her the bridge of both Ternus vessels. Their captains could have been twins, both leather-faced from long years in the sun. Both wore greying beards.
“Gentlemen,” Voria began, “we’re about to assault that carrier. When we move to engage, the Krox will divert at least one Wyrm to deal with us. Have you ever fought against a dragon?”
“Negative, Major,” one of the captains grumbled back, “but we’re told that if they breathe on us, it’s over. So keep out of range, and pepper them with missiles seems the best strategy.”
Voria nodded rapidly. “Yes, just so. If a Wyrm comes for you, flee and let the other vessels attack it. If it catches you, not only will you die, but your soul will be bound and your body will rise. You will be a slave, gentlemen, and your crew will have no choice but to fire on their own allies.”
The other captain cleared his throat. “We’ve armed our vessels with self-destructs, keyed to the life signs of the captain. If the captain dies, the vessel detonates.” He looked uncomfortable, and she couldn’t blame him.
“An extreme measure to be sure, but a necessary one I assure you.” Voria didn’t have the heart to ask their names, as she knew what was about to happen. “We’re approaching the enemy even now, gentlemen. I will leave you to conduct war. Die with honor, if it comes to that.”
“Thank you, Major.” The first captain gave her a tight salute and killed the missive. The second merely nodded, then did the same.
That left her free to focus on the battle, and as the screen once more showed the combat raging across the upper atmosphere, her heart sank. There were so many Krox, not just the carriers, but dozens of Wyrms. Vakera had been bad, but despite the devastation, they’d pushed the Krox back. Long enough to evacuate most of the citizens, at least.
Here, they faced nearly twice the number of Wyrms they’d seen before. Yet their own fleets were weaker. This game of attrition should be one that favored them, as Wyrms took centuries to mature. Yet somehow that wasn’t happening, and their forces dwindled while their enemy seemed limitless.
Several Wyrms broke from the main battle with the retreating Confederate forces, and began making for the Ternus offensive. Most were centered on other groups, but one Wyrm winged in her direction. Even at this range, the scry-screen showed the vile hatred in those reptilian eyes.
“You’ll have to catch us before you can kill us,” she muttered. Voria tapped all three fire sigils, and allowed a large chunk of magic to flow from her chest into the floor beneath her. The Hunter rumbled again, and began picking up speed.
The hull began to glow as they skimmed the upper atmosphere, rapidly closing the distance with the ungainly Krox carrier in the distance. The Ternus destroyers fell slightly behind her, and she allowed that gap to widen. Their role here wasn’t to help her engage the Wyrm. It was to keep the Wyrm off her long enough to allow her to deal with the carrier.
She prayed to the memory of Shaya that it was possible, even while knowing it was not. The Wyrm also picked up speed, and was moving far more quickly than the destroyers, even more quickly than the Hunter could manage. If she’d had a full crew, she might have pushed on, but it wasn’t going to be possible.
Voria’s hand hovered over a spirit sigil, ready should the Wyrm attempt to cast. She might not be able to hurt it, not without a mage manning the offensive matrix, but maybe she could blunt its offensive and give the destroyers a chance.
The Wyrm swooped at the first vessel, and the vessel disgorged hundreds of missiles. The dragon sketched a single void sigil in the air, its purple-black energy gathering into a dense pool before Voria could react. The Wyrm vanished, then reappeared a kilometer away from the detonation.
“Blast it.” She needed to be faster.
The Wyrm swooped again, and this time reached the hull. It seized the vessel with its massive legs, pulling it in close like an osprey grabbing a fish. “Goddess, no.”
The Wyrm peeled open the hull with one clawed hand, then reared its head back and breathed. The same pallid fog she’d seen earlier flooded the ship’s interior. She imagined the brutally short screams, cut off as the dark magic ripped their souls from their bodies. They would die instantly, and all their vaunted technology did nothing to prevent it.
Voria closed her eyes, and tapped the fire sigils in sequence again. She fed still more power to the ship, increasing the gap. The carrier grew larger before her, and she realized that if the Wyrm focused on the second destroyer, she might actually make it.
Unfortunately, a quick glance at the portion of the scry-screen showing the Wyrm revealed that it knew too. The Wyrm had left off attacking the destroyers, and was now winging directly for her at top speed. Had she possessed one of the Ternus computers she might have been able to determine precisely how long it would take to reach her, but right now knowing that would hardly help.
The
Wyrm stretched out a single arm and began sketching sigils. Even from this distance she could feel the gathering void energy, and realized that the Wyrm was readying another teleport. “Not this time.”
She tapped a spirit sigil, then a void. A greyish bolt of crackling energy shot from the hunter’s cannon, curving in midair, then twisting around to streak at the Wyrm. It slammed into the still gathering spell, and the sigils exploded into mana shards. Voria couldn’t hear the Wyrm’s scream of rage, but she could imagine it well enough based on body language.
Voria smiled. “Go ahead, try it again. I dare you, Krox.”
The Wyrm didn’t, because the second destroyer had used the distraction to narrow the gap. A cloud of missiles erupted and streaked toward the Wyrm. The Wyrm twisted up and away, but several missiles slammed into it. Hunks of flesh were ripped free, and the wounded creature flapped up and away from its attacker.
“Well struck,” she muttered, sketching a quick salute at the surviving Ternus vessel. It wasn’t a fatal blow, but it bought them time.
The Hunter had nearly reached the carrier. Voria triggered another missive, this one to Thalas. The captain’s perfect face filled the scry-screen. “Yes, Major?” He kept the emotion from his voice, but she could tell from the way he refused to meet her gaze that he still wasn’t comfortable with what they were about to do.
“I’m initiating the air bridge in thirty seconds. Are you ready to board?” The hull lurched suddenly, and Voria barely managed to catch herself against the stabilizing ring. What had just hit them?
Thalas rocked back and forth, but caught himself. “We’ll be ready, Major. Just do your part.” The connection went dead, and she didn’t have the time or energy to deal with his insubordination.
She willed the scry-screen to shift to the Wyrm in time to see him conjure a gigantic spike of rock, then hurl it in her direction. That must have been what the first impact had been.
“Blast it. I don’t have time for this.” She tapped void twice, then earth, then void a final time. The corresponding energies were ripped from her breast, and she dropped to one knee with a cry as the magic poured into the ship.
A moment later a brown-black ball of crackling magical energy streaked from the cannon. It intercepted the rock spike, detonating on impact. The rock grew impossibly heavy, and began to plummet to the planet below. Voria prayed silently that it did not land on a populated area.
The Wyrm gave up the gambit, and focused on flying toward her, so Voria quickly tapped the air sigil on all three rings. It took much of her reserves, but a swirling tornado burst from the Hunter’s cargo hold, zipping toward the enemy hull and attaching to a damaged section. Their vessels were linked.
It was all on Thalas now.
5
Into the Fray
Crewes’s spellarmor clanked loudly as he strode past the ranks of tech mages, two columns stretching back into the hangar. He stopped in front of them, and surveyed the ranks. “Uh-ten-shion!”
They snapped to attention as one, every tech mage resting the barrel of their spellrifle on the left shoulder. His chest swelled with pride, even as the pragmatic part of his brain rebelled at the fate he knew lay in store for most of these kids.
“Leeffft face!” Crewes pivoted smoothly to face the shimmering membrane separating them from the enemy ship. Its warped surface rippled and shifted, distorting the Krox carrier. The vessel appeared to be stationary, which was a testament to the major’s piloting skills.
Captain Thalas floated up in his silvery spellarmor, once again ignoring the men. Crewes clenched a fist, and glared at Thalas from under his helmet. It wasn’t that the man had no understanding of morale. It was almost like he knew it existed, and did anything he could to sabotage it.
“I will never understand why you bother with that Ternus claptrap.” Thalas removed his helmet and cleaned a spot on the face. He turned a hawkish eye on the men, and his expression went sour. “Most of this lot is merely a distraction. You waste too much time and attention training them. I’ve told you, focus on the ones with potential.”
“Sir, are you ready to deploy?” Crewes kept his tone neutral, which wasn’t easy. Thalas had an extremely punchable face, and Crewes badly wanted to be the guy doing the punching. Only his brother had a bigger knack for pissing him off.
“Yes, you may begin.” He waved nonchalantly at the enemy vessel, then carefully replaced his helmet. “I’ll observe from the rear. Once you have secured a landing, I will make my approach.”
“I’m sure that’s wise, sir.” Crewes substituted the word cowardly for wise, in his own head at least. He turned to face the unit. The captain might have given up on them, but he hadn’t. He’d do his best to keep as many alive as possible. “First rank, deploy!”
All four suits of spellarmor moved forward in a ragged line, with Kezia in the lead. The others were already starting to follow her. They leapt out of the ship, and were instantly seized by the funnel of wind the major had created. That funnel was invisible, of course, but he could see the way it buffeted the spellarmor as they twisted toward the enemy ship.
“You need an invitation?” Crewes boomed. “Move, people. Move!”
Crewes leapt into the air tunnel, and was instantly accelerated toward the enemy vessel. Unlike most of the other tech mages, he could actually control his flight, and poured a little fire into his thrusters to keep the armor stable as he zoomed up alongside Kezia.
He accelerated still further, pulling slightly ahead as they reached the enemy vessel. The air tunnel ended right over a breach in the enemy hull that looked to have been caused by a Ternus missile. Crewes bent his knees slightly, and landed inside the hole with a crash.
The relative darkness was lit by his thrusters, and exposed a sea of hungry faces, all staring at him. He twitched his right index finger, and opened a missive to the entire company. “Get ready for corpses, people.”
Crewes lunged at the closest target, a tall man with empty eyes. He smashed his face, pretending the bastard was actually the captain. The corpse went down, and Crewes sought another. And another. There was no shortage.
Kezia landed in the space he’d cleared, quickly followed by the others. Crewes half-turned to face them. “Focus your attacks on any corpses that try to get behind me. We need to clear this room and establish a beachhead so the rest of the company can land.”
Something thumped against his chest, and he turned back to see a claymore attached. He managed to get one hand around the device, but it detonated in his hand and the blast sent him tumbling back into the wall. The HUD flared to life and showed minor damage in the suit’s right arm. “Oh, you zeros are gonna pay for that.”
Crewes flipped to his feet and brought his cannon to bear. He poured a generous amount of fire magic into the weapon, and it kicked back hard. A ball of pulsing magma arced up over the corpses, and exploded, covering them all with magically enhanced lava. Bone, flesh, and bodyarmor all melted with equal ease, and more than a dozen corpses didn’t rise.
Kezia sprinted forward on his right, bringing her enormous hammer down on one of the surviving corpses. “Oh, no, you don’t.” She connected, and the hammer sent the corpse spinning back into three of its fellows.
“Wow, this is much easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Bord raised his rifle to his shoulder, and fired a life bolt. It slammed into the wall two feet over the head of the nearest corpse.
Crewes stomped over to the kid and seized him by the shoulder, then pulled the kid into cover momentarily. “We do not waste spells. Do you understand, Private?”
“Listen, sir, it isn’t my fault that I have piss—“
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Crewes hoisted Bord up off the ground.
“Yes, sir.” Bord hung limply in his grasp.
“Your spells don’t just kill corpses. They heal. Save your magic for keeping the company alive.” Crewes set Bord down, and turned back to the fight.
Kezia and the others had cleared the rest of the c
orpses. They had their beachhead. Just in time, too. The other tech mages began landing behind them, each mage wearing normal body armor and carrying a regular spellrifle.
There was Captain Thalas at the rear, too. Crewes glared hatefully at the man as he landed, though part of him had to admit he was grateful for his presence, too. The captain was absolutely lethal. Unlike the rest of them, he wasn’t a mere tech mage. He was a fully trained war mage, and that was exactly the kind of firepower they were going to need to take the vessel.
“The company is ready for orders, sir,” Crewes said, as soon as Thalas landed.
“Excellent. Have them secure a path to the engines.”
“The engines, sir?” That puzzled him. He’d been positive they were going to push for the bridge.
Thalas turned toward him, and though the captain’s spellarmor hid his face, Crewes had no trouble imagining the condescending expression. “Is something not clear about my orders, Sergeant?”
“No, sir.” Crewes moved further into the room, toward the front ranks. “You heard the men, people. Ship’s schematics put the engines down the aft corridor there. Kezia, take the lead. Bord, stick behind her.” He turned back to the rest of the mages. “Leave a ten-meter gap between me and the rest of the squad. When you see us engage, take covered positions and wait for a sure shot. Remember, people, we do not waste spells!”
Crewes turned and sprinted up the corridor after Kezia. She set an impressive pace, one the other tech mages were struggling to maintain. Right now, that was exactly what they needed. Sooner or later the binder running this vessel would figure out the defenses they’d arrayed around the bridge were in the wrong place. By the time that happened, they needed to be at the objective.
“Sir,” Kezia asked in a low voice. “I don’t mean to be negative, but it’s joost…I’ve got some concerns. If we’re heading to the engines, and our mission is to keep this thing from landing, don’t that mean we’re going to blow up the engines?”
