The Last Blade

by Sarah Hawke

  The transport skimmed along the Fury’s outer hull until the cannons lost their firing arcs. The fighter drones could still shoot them, of course, but they were too busy trying to evade the Valkyries. Ferron could throw all the secret weapons he wanted at them—nothing was going to keep Mosaad off that ship.

  “Activating docking clamps,” Kaveri announced. “Rerouting all additional power to shields.”

  “Set the self-destruct and move,” Mosaad said. “We have to be quick.”

  He vaulted out of the chair and rushed into the back of the shuttle. Kaveri popped open the hatch, revealing a two meter long stretch of the Fury’s hull directly beneath them, and her luminous eyes were narrowed into thin slits as she prepared herself for the battle ahead. Once again, Mosaad couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at a reflection of the past. Her blue eyes, her splendorous combat armor, the intense focus on her face…

  But Kaveri was not Natalya, and this was not Keledon. Today, things would be different. Today, the Blades of the Seraph would prevail.

  Mosaad would make certain of it.

  “Strange,” Kaveri whispered as her brow creased in concentration. “I cannot sense any living soldiers on the other side.”

  “We caught them by surprise, but I guarantee that Ferron will have commandos on the way,” Mosaad told her.

  She nodded and stretched out her hand. “Ready, master?”

  He knelt down opposite her and nodded. “For the Seraph.”

  Their psi-blades materialized at the exact same moment, and they thrust their blazing blue beams directly into the Fury’s exposed hull. In theory, one of the laser drills on the Vantrax could have done the job—its former Krosian owners prepared to board ships in exactly this way. But such devices consumed an absurd amount of power, and the work would have taken at least twice as long.

  Besides, he knew from experience that ripping open the hull of a starship with a psionic sword was far, far more intimidating, especially to the average Tarreen. They were used to being nearly indestructible, and he enjoyed reminding them that even their thick scales were no match for the blades of the righteous.

  “Almost there,” he said, grimacing with exertion as he continued carving the circular hole. “Three, two, one…now!”

  The instant their blades finished carving the circle, Mosaad slammed the loose piece of metal with a wave of telekinetic force, ripping it free and hurling against the deck below. Alarms wailed inside the ship, but Mosaad didn’t wait. After psionically bolstering his strength and speed, he dropped down through the opening and landed in a combat-ready crouch.

  The corridor was mostly empty—they really had caught Ferron by surprise. A few old combat mechs charged around the corner once he landed, but Mosaad was already vaulting towards them by the time their targeting software identified him as a threat. He sliced them both in half with a single clean blow, then whipped around when he heard two more approaching from the other direction. They did have their rifles out, and in theory they could have shot Kaveri the moment she dropped down. But before they had a chance to fire, Mosaad telekinetically hurled the still-smoldering chunk of hull plating and crushed them against the wall like insects.

  “Clear,” he said, taking a deep breath and stretching out with his telepathy. He still couldn’t sense the presence of any conscious minds, which was more than a little strange. Surely Ferron had ordered at least one Baalir commando team to stop the intruders…

  “We appear to be alone,” Kaveri said from behind him. Her blue blade cast an eerie shadow down the length of the dim corridor.

  “Ferron must be marshalling his forces to try and ambush us elsewhere,” Mosaad said. “I’m just surprised he’s not even trying to slow us down.”

  He took a deep breath as he mentally sorted through all the potential ambush spots on the ship. He didn’t need his holopad; he could navigate a Pirilex-class battleship blindfolded if he had to.

  “All he’ll care about is stopping us before we reach the bridge,” he said. “We’ll take the junction on deck two—it’s the most direct route. With luck, he won’t have time to get all of his guards organized.”

  “And if he does?” Kaveri asked.

  “Then we’ll kill them,” Mosaad told her. “Come on!”

  They raced through the ship, blades blazing as they scythed down squad after squad of mechs. At the very least he had expected Ferron to throw some Katakori hunter-killers at them, but apparently the admiral had left all of his heavy defenders on the actual shipyard. The miscalculation would cost him dearly.

  When they reached the door to the bridge, he gestured for Kaveri to access the console while he took up a defensive position. “Try Selorah’s codes,” he said. He could feel her reaching out with her telepathy, but judging from her frown she wasn’t having any more luck than he was. It didn’t make any sense. Even with the Convectorate’s advanced automation, a ship this size would still have a crew of several hundred…

  The locking mechanism beeped, and Mosaad braced himself for a full-blown counterattack as the door slowly slid open. He had expected to be greeted by a firing squad of mechs and commandos, but the bridge was just as bizarrely empty as the rest of the ship…aside from a pair of Baalir commandos and one all-too familiar face.

  “I really must give your new ‘students’ their due credit, old friend,” Admiral Ferron said. “They’re much more resilient than your last bunch.”

  Mosaad slowly stepped onto the bridge, the feeling of déjà vu growing stronger with each passing moment. The Avernal Fury had a much more “standardized” bridge than the Damadus—there was no elevated saucer or pit of psionic crystals—but it was still large and spacious, especially since Ferron appeared to be alone aside from his bodyguards. He was sitting calmly in his command throne hovering just in front of the massive, ovoid viewport that dominated an entire wall of the bridge. The crew pits were empty, and half the consoles didn’t even have power. Other than a few soft beeps from the tac-holo, the only sound on the bridge was the soft hum of their psi-blades.

  “Still, I see your taste in personal companions is as bizarre and disgusting as ever,” Ferron went on. He tapped a button on his armrest, and his command throne hovered down to the deck. “At least that old Subari mongrel of yours was designed to be a warrior, not a whore.”

  “Where is your crew?” Mosaad asked, waving his blade at the armored commandos even though they hadn’t yet made a move for their weapons.

  “On the shipyard, of course,” Ferron said as if it were obvious. “I have all the help I require to run this vessel…and to cripple your pathetic little fleet.” His maw widened into a grin as he glanced over to the tac-holo. “Ah, there goes another one. Such a pity. I hear those fighters are quite expensive these days.”

  Mosaad’s lip curled. “If you want to live through this, order your men to drop their weapons and command your forces to stand down.”

  Ferron snorted contemptuously, though given his massive frame it sounded more like a bestial growl. “Have you really become so weak that you would offer the ‘Butcher of Talasea’ mercy?”

  “You will suffer for your crimes, I promise. The only question is whether you wish your soldiers to suffer with you.”

  The Tarreen’s red tail flicked back and forth in amusement. “What soldiers? Destroy a thousand drones and we will simply build a thousand more. Can you say the same?” He flicked a claw towards the tac-holo as another Valkyrie disappeared from the scanners. “I suspect not.”

  Kaveri’s tendrils twitched nervously when she looked at the projection. “Master…”

  “Last chance, Admiral,” Mosaad snarled. “I’ll gladly kill you and take control of this ship manually if I have to.”

  Ferron sneered. “You dreega are truly remarkable. All the long years, all the crippling defeats, yet you still refuse to accept the truth. You lost.”

  “Master, I still can’t sense anything,” Kaveri said, her brow furrowing in concentration.

 
Mosaad’s cheek twitched. He stretched out with his telepathy again, but he still didn’t sense anything—not even from the three Baalir directly in front of him. He couldn’t understand how this was possible; the Tarreen weren’t resistant to psionics like the Kali. He should have been able to read every one of this butcher’s monstrous thoughts…

  “Someone is blocking us,” Kaveri whispered. “There must be a Spider somewhere on the ship.”

  “Did you seriously believe you could just storm on my bridge and take my ship?” Ferron asked. “Did you actually think I would come here without some kind of protection from your powers?”

  Mosaad snorted. “Commandos, Spiders…you can throw anything you want at us. Nothing is going to stop us this time.”

  Ferron bared his fangs in a disgusting Tarreen smile. “We shall see.”

  Mosaad caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye, and he turned just in time to watch a concealed door hiss open in the back of the bridge. His warrior instincts took over: he instinctively dropped into a combat crouch behind Ferron, fully expecting a squad of assault mechs or even Spiders to come charging in. Instead, there was only a single man.

  A single human man.

  A single human man who Mosaad had killed a long time ago.

  “No,” Mosaad whispered. “This isn’t possible…”

  “Hello, Wynn,” Emperor Falric Tisarys said. “It has been a long time.”

  Chapter Six

  The Nelphari System

  Varsellian Sector, Far Rim

  1101.7

  “Dagger and Cobalt have been disabled, and Vesper’s weapons are out,” Morningstar said over the com. His voice was so tight I barely recognized it. “We have to pick them up and get the fuck out of here!”

  “Just hold on,” I ordered, clenching my teeth. “Spectre, you ready?”

  “Yes,” the Kali replied. “Engaging in three, two, one…”

  His Valkyrie suddenly reappeared on the sensors, and he dove towards the trio of CDF bombers like a great cat pouncing from the foliage. His cannons raked across the starboard drone, shearing off one of its wings and disintegrating the other. The fuselage spiraled out of control and collided with one of its wingmen, and the explosive fireball drove the third drone right into my sights. I destroyed it with a single precise shot before I tucked my Valkyrie into a hard roll and whipped around the Vantrax for cover.

  “I do not detect any additional bombers,” Spectre said as he reformed on my wing. “However, six more fighter drones just launched from the auto-factory.”

  I swore under my breath and glanced out the canopy to the Avernal Fury. The assault team had been onboard for almost fifteen minutes now, though it felt like it could have been fifteen hours. Unfortunately, we had no way of contacting them—the Fury was generating some kind of intense but highly-localized jamming field, and when I stretched out through the Valkyrie’s sensors I couldn’t even feel their conscious minds.

  For all you know, they could already be dead.

  “It’s time for a change of plans,” I said, grimacing and thumbing the com switch. “Selorah, you there?”

  “Copy that, Phoenix Leader,” she replied from aboard the Vantrax.

  “Have you had any luck punching a hole in those shields?”

  “Negative. All attempts to boost power and change targets have failed.”

  “What are the odds that will change in the next few minutes?”

  “Virtually zero,” Selorah replied.

  “That’s what I thought,” I murmured. “Then it’s time for a change of plans. You’re going to come about and retrieve our disabled fighters. Get them in the hangar while the rest of us cover you.”

  “What about the assault team?” Morningstar piped in. “What if we don’t get a signal from them by the time we’re loaded up?”

  “Worry about surviving the next few minutes first,” I said, shifting my focus to the drones still madly chasing us about the battlefield. “Split off into pairs and keep your distance. These energy-draining bombs of theirs only seem to work at close range.”

  “Dammit,” Morningstar swore. “You heard the man. Martyr, you’re with me. Let’s go.”

  I watched as the last few groups of Valkyries split off and dove back into the fray. We were even more outnumbered than when we had started at this point, but as long as no one else ended up disabled I was reasonably confident we could still protect the Vantrax. The big boat might not have cracked through the shipyard’s shields, but it had absorbed plenty of punishment like we’d planned. In theory, we could still shift to astral space at any time…as long as we were willing to abandon the assault team on the Fury.

  Unless they are already dead.

  “They are not dead,” I snarled at myself. “Kaveri and Mosaad will get the job done. You just need to give them a little more time.”

  Taking a deep breath, I leveled out my shields and flicked the com back on. “All right, let’s go after that cluster of drones in grid three. One of them is packing torpedoes…I’d rather not let them get any closer to the Vantrax.”

  “Agreed,” Spectre said. “On your lead, Outcast.”

  Clenching my teeth, I banked hard to starboard and punched the throttle. I tried to focus on chasing down our new targets, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t stop worrying about our disabled squadmates. They were still alive—I could feel the faint psychic echoes of their minds through the sensors—but a single errant drone could change that at any moment. And I still didn’t understand how their power had been drained in the first place. If Ferron had access this kind of technology, why hadn’t he used it to prevent our escape on Varsus? Why hadn’t he protected his convoy of reinforcements a few days ago? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Firing range in ten seconds,” Spectre said. “They appear to be splitting up.”

  “They want us to do the same, but we’re not going to take the bait,” I said. “Hold tight and we’ll—”

  Another premonition struck me, but this time it wasn’t about the ongoing space battle at all. For a split-second I could see inside the Avernal Fury. Kaveri and Mosaad were there, psionic swords blazing, and a red-scaled, Baalir-caste Tarreen was on the bridge with them. Everything seemed to be going as planned…but then a wave of confusion and fear crashed over them. The images flashed across my vision too quickly for me to discern many details, but I was certain I saw Kaveri screaming in pain…

  And then I was back in the cockpit again. I barely had time to blink before a pair of drones strafed right past me. My Valkyrie rumbled as their cannons splattered over my shields, and I frantically clutched the flight stick and threw the fighter in hard evasive roll.

  “Cole, what’s wrong?” Spectre’s voice said into my ear.

  “I, uh…” I swallowed as another volley of fire burned past my canopy. Grimacing, I attempted to accelerate away from the dogfight, but the drones were in too close. I would have been in a lot of trouble if Spectre hadn’t vaped both of my pursuers a few seconds later.

  “For a man who does not enjoy playing bait, you are quite effective at it,” the Kali said mildly.

  “We have a problem,” I said, the back of my neck still tingling. “We need to get aboard the Fury.”

  I could almost see his scales rippling blue with confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Kaveri is in trouble—I saw it.” I licked at my lips and abruptly banked my Valkyrie back towards the looming battleship. “I’m going to help her.”

  If I could have placed a bet, I would have wagered a million krynar chits that Raxyl would spend the next few minutes arguing with me even if we were being shot at by a dozen fighter drones. The fact he didn’t was so disturbing I almost couldn’t cope with it.

  “With the Fury still concentrating its fire on the Vantrax, you should be able to breach the hangar,” he said.

  I had to blink twice. “You really think so?”

  “Yes. This battle is lost unless we are able to commandeer the Fury
soon.”

  I swallowed again as I mentally scanned the battlefield. So far the others were still holding their own, but it was only a matter of time before more of them were disabled, including Shandris. At least with my help they might have a fighting chance…

  “They are stronger than you think, Cole,” Spectre said as if reading my thoughts. “They will buy us the time we require.”

  I blinked. “‘Us?’”

  “I am going to accompany you. It is the only logical course of action.”

  “Are you sure that’s—?”

  “There is no time to argue,” he countered. “We must go now.”

  I nodded soberly, trying hard not to think about Shandris and the others. Every lesson and simulation over the past few months had taught me to never abandon my squadron, but deep down I knew we didn’t have a choice. My powers had never betrayed me before; Kaveri and Mosaad were in trouble. And like it or not, Raxyl was right that the Fury was our last and only hope to turn the tide.

  “All right,” I said. “Here goes nothing…”

  Angling my shields forward, I slammed the throttle and charged straight at the Avernal Fury. The battleship’s heavy cannons didn’t bother firing at us, but its point-defense turrets were more than eager to pick up the slack. I threw the Valkyrie into a tight, winding spiral as the blinding green bolts burned space around me, and I happily allowed my shields to eat a hit or two as long as it allowed me to dodge a larger cluster of fire. Raxyl surged ahead of me, his fighter shimmering until it was almost invisible, and he flit between a crossfire of plasma blasts and punched through the hangar’s containment field.

  I followed as closely as I could, wishing for about the hundredth time that I could copy his Kali cloaking trick. The glimmering blue hangar grew larger and larger out the canopy…right up until it suddenly started to close.

  “Oh, shit,” I hissed. I couldn’t possibly make it in time, at least not at a speed where I would still be able to stop before crashing into the other side of the hangar. And unlike Kaveri and Mosaad, I couldn’t conjure a magic blade to carve through the hull. I just didn’t have that kind of power.