by Tao Wong
I grunt, shaking my head. I doubt he’d be that much faster. In fact, I would be surprised if Ali could actually make it through the battlefield. But perhaps his desire to come is not entirely based off rational need. Realizing Ali can’t see me, I send my answer mentally before studying the minimap. It’s not nearly as useful as a larger notification window would be, but I can grasp the overall shape of the fight.
“Come on, you overgrown bookworm,” I whisper.
The Galactic Master Classers, when they arrive, do not launch an attack immediately, giving me time to review their damage. The Acolyte looks the worse of the pair, his skin sizzling, his eyes dark and bloodshot, bared hands crisped. Only a light purple glow keeps the void from freezing his body. As for Phortala, the Fire Elemental looks good, brimming with energy—literally, as flames lick from open wounds across his body. It’s kind of amusing to see fire burning in the void, though I note how once they reach a couple of inches from his body, the flames die. A glance at Phortala’s Status makes me wince, for while his health might have taken a beating, the Avatar of Flame’s fully stocked on Mana. Any hope of winning is… remote.
I touch the QSM on my wrist, considering. I might be able to use it. The upgrades we’ve made basically boosted my ability to punch through a Dimensional Lock. Theoretically. But I’m in the overlapping Dimensional Locked fields from three different Smoothers. I had expected it to be one at most, having gotten this thing rebuilt when I expected to be fighting on a Smoother. Not for ambushing the Admiral—or playing bait. Three overlapping fields is a bit much.
“Your plan failed,” the Acolyte says. “Do you have more tricks? More surprises? Or was this it?”
“And if I said yes, would you believe me?” I call my sword into my hand as I let my mind slide into that combat stance. “Look. You guys have lost your ride out. If you put your… flames… down, we’ll call it a day. No one else has to die. What we do here isn’t going to affect the real battle.” A gesture toward the nearest Dimensional Smoother, floating a distance away. Close, if we had a working ship. But without Portals or Blink Steps, we’re too slow to make a difference.
“And if we did, would you lay your neck down when it was your turn? You regenerate with each moment,” the Acolyte hisses, offering me a grim smile. “Ending you now is the most logical option.”
I grunt, unable to refute his point. I’m not going to put my sword down just because I’m on the losing team. “Guess you’re not interested in letting me go?”
A laugh from the Acolyte is all the answer I need.
“Why do you insist on speaking with this one?” Phortala snarls, tilting his head toward where my team is supposed to arrive. “We but need to collect his head for our bounty. Then we can leave this cold, blighted place.”
My grip tightens on my sword. I’m curious how they intend to begin this fight. A couple of Blade Strikes could potentially give me the opening to close in on them. Or a Soul Shield, to cover me while I rush them. I’m suddenly desperately aware that I should have invested in better thrusters, better upgrades for my secondary pieces of armor. Or is it tertiary pieces? If I can’t reach them, if I can’t hit them…
Mana fluctuates near me and I hit the burners, triggering a sudden acceleration. It pushes me away from the pair, but it lets me escape the sudden formation of a flame-filled cage that wraps around my previous location. Even as I bank and turn, altering the angle of my thrust, I conjure a blaster into my hand and open fire. The beam attacks strike the Acolyte’s pulsing purple shield, burrowing into its defenses even as the Avatar conjures a series of mini-suns. Each of those suns spits out flame darts, the elemental-infused attacks burning even in the void of space. A part of me wonders if the spell itself is conjuring the flame or the oxygen needed, but the rest of me is busy dodging and firing, attempting to close in on the pair.
The Acolyte isn’t holding still either, dodging my attacks as he casts a System-targeted corruption spell. A flicker in my notifications makes my lip compress.
You have been Cursed with GEM’s Disdain!
Curse partially resisted!
Your Mana regeneration has decreased by 13.81%.
I shoot the Acolyte in return, watching as my shield firms up. Only to be bled away as another flame impacts me. As I dance and dodge, trying to close in on them, I have to be wary of the ever-growing number of flaming spheres, some of which use whips of flame. The math of this fight is simple. If I can close in, I stand a chance. The longer I stay out here, the more danger I’m in.
We spin and exchange fire, the Avatar filling the space with his little balls of flame. There are no wide area effect spells, no gouts of flame that are easy to dodge. No. This is worse. Each summoned sphere summons its own attacks, filling the air with darts of flame, each a pinprick and so dense that no matter where I go, I’m hit. The constant damage wears down my shield, leaving me exposed to the void.
Bastards.
As another flame dart hits my spacesuit, it eats a small hole in it. The suit does its best to patch the hole, but another attack adds another hole. I might have a couple of spares, but none of them are expensive or good. And the slower I am, the more I’ll get hit. It’s a spiral, a guarantee that I’ll lose. It might take a little longer if I pull away, if I continue dodging and hoping that the Master Classer runs out of Mana. Except he’s got a ton and I don’t have that much health. The damage from the flames is terrifying, and if it was not for the entire battle being conducted in space, I might have lost already.
I throw up a Soul Shield to buy some time. The Skill will take some of the beating, but it won’t last forever. I snarl, running through my options, feeling my skin dry and crack as it heals around the damage. Options, options, options… I scan through the surroundings, borrowing Ali’s senses for a second to see how far they’ve come.
“Done. Do not die, Questor.” A voice cuts through the silence, ringing in my ear.
I choke, missing a dodge and losing nearly two-thirds of the Soul Shield’s remaining durability. The stutter in motion is due to the rather unorthodox method that Bolo and Mikito used to provide aid for the Librarian. Rather than jump into the fight, they’d launched their own penultimate attacks on the ship once they got close enough.
The courier ship’s destruction left it wrecked, floating in parts and throwing its occupants about. In the midst of all that damage, the Admiral must have been easy pickings for the Librarian.
“We’re on our way back,” Mikito says over the comm.
I shake my head, ducking aside as I boost away from the pair. No need to fight now. I just need to survive. A Mana potion is slammed down my throat as I ignore the reduced effectiveness, using the sudden surge of Mana to refresh my battered Soul Shield. I’ve got an exit now—maybe, if the Smoothers…
“Smoothers. Now!” I command Mikito and get a growl in reply.
But Ali seems to have convinced them, because they turn toward the nearest.
Come on, come on…
Again and again I dodge, opening up space between my attackers and me. The damn spheres are flying after me, no longer purely attacking. Another Curse hammers into me, slowing down my reaction time. Luckily, the actual spell itself does nothing to my tech. Still, I’m on the losing end of this fight and it’s showing. I don’t, can’t, use the rest of my Mana. Not if I want to run. Not with them so close.
Considering that last thought, I reach into my Altered Space. There are a few last things in there, a few toys and some junk that I can use. There are blocks of titanium—no more than distractions and physical cover. Others, like the chaos mines and floating drones, are meant to damage and distract but aren’t particularly useful in the void of space. Some of the grenades trigger then putter out as the void of space laughs as the sonic, flashbang, and tech-driven attacks succumb to unrelenting physics.
Some are more useful. A Chaos Grenade creates a sudden attractor, pulling a pair of flaming spheres inside. Another sends a wave of healing energy, topping up a
couple hundred points of health and making a pair of floating gerbil-creatures sprout solar wings. A deep ocean fish, wide-eyed, spiky, and glowing, pops into existence then freezes to death while mulch appears from another grenade.
I buy time while the rest of the rebel fleet fights. Prime Station glows, opening fire with secondary weapons on one of the Dimensional Smoothers, returning to the battle. The main cannon might be done, but the rest of its weapons now focus on a single Smoother. The Battlecruiser dies, its engines and shields overloaded, but it takes a score of ships with it as it explodes. Surprisingly, the other Battlecruiser goes off too, the paired explosion enough to destroy their target now that the Admiral is no longer alive.
Time drags on as I empty my inventory. I’ve bought enough time that I’ve regenerated a little more Mana, so I risk a Blade Strike. The attack cuts through my own obstacle, tearing apart the block of titanium and slamming into the Acolyte that it had blocked. Blood spurts as a leg is detached, the Acolyte releasing a scream. The creature spins, holding onto the stump of its thigh, bleeding out, and I see my health pop up a little, along with my shield. Just in time to take another alpha strike from Phortala, the flames washing over me as three spheres catch up and go nova.
My shield shatters and I burn, twisting in midair as the remnants of my suit crisps. I hit the release, jettisoning the destroyed thrusters before equipping another set. The entire thing takes seconds, before I’m burning fuel to get away from the next set of spheres. I swipe at my helmet, cleaning the soot away as I battle the sensation of burning and freezing, one after the other. Come on…
Another Dimensional Smoother goes down, this one targeted by the station. This time, it’s the correct one. I feel the Lock disappear and I debate using my Portal, but I hold on. I can hold on. Even if my health is bottoming out, even as another Curse tears at my nerves and makes me see what isn’t there. As flames fill my vision, as blood boils and my skin crisps, I hold on. A passing rebel ship opens fire on us, tossing a couple of runed shells that fill the area with metal-eating space leeches. Those distract the Master Classers for a few seconds as they burn the creatures away. A few seconds before the Master Classers return to attacking me.
Time. I buy time with health and pain. Another Smoother goes down, and I can hear my friends speaking to me. Saying words I don’t have time to pay attention to. Orders fly, calling a general retreat even as the space station shifts, attempting to escape the overlapping boundaries. More orders fly, focusing attacks on the remaining targeted Dimensional Smoother. Then something happens.
Some of the Galactic fleet disappears, retreating from the fight. Others strike the flag, sending out SOS calls and calling it a day. The Smoother that was boarded drops its hold, freeing the Station of another overlapping boundary. Not one that I’m in though. The Galactics are fleeing, running.
All but the two still hounding me.
I’m still in the midst of one Smoother’s hold, still stuck. Even if the QSM is meant to work, it’s no guarantee. But my health is too low, my Mana refusing to regenerate. Given no choice, I reach out with my Skill. I find the portion of the world that is the center of the Station, the area I’m whitelisted to Portal into. I touch the boundaries between worlds, connect myself to the QSM, tear open the gap, and throw myself in. Just before another wave of heat washes over me, following me through the Portal.
I emerge into cool, almost freezing atmosphere. I roll across the ground, elemental fire following me before it is swept backward as the air in the room is sucked into the void. The Portal snaps closed with a relaxation of will, and I’m free. Safe.
“You really should look where you jump,” a voice, all too familiar, if long unheard, says.
And I realize I’m not where I should be.
Epilogue
I escaped. So did my friends. Everyone made it back, though the fleet had pulled out, leaving behind one Dimensional Smoother and a lot of bodies. Once the problem had resolved itself, rebels and pirates flooded back, bolstering the weakened station and beginning the rebuild. The auction I’d been looking forward to went off without a hitch. Mikito even managed to pick up a new toy. Harry’s Level shot up like crazy, his reports and a rather impressive story of heroism in the Station increasing his reputation. Dornalor’s less happy, having lost his ship and nearly his life during the last battle. Once the station makes good on replacing the ship, they’ll be joining me.
“Did he survive?” I ask Ali. A simple reconjuration brought him to my side.
“The Librarian’s whereabouts and eventual fate is unknown. I see no indications that anyone ported in or out, especially anyone with the Mana signature of a Legendary Class.”
I can hear the but in Ali’s mental voice. The question about if we’d even be able to tell, what with the way they’re all messing with the System information. Credits might not be everything, but it’s close.
“I don’t get it. Was he holding back in the fight because he was afraid of the Council? If he was that worried, why offer to try at all?” I shake my head, remembering the footage of the Librarian and the Admiral’s fight that Harry sent to me. “Or is he that weak?” Ali’s mental shrug sets me off on a rant, now that I’ve had more time to think about it. “For that matter, if the Council wanted him dead, why didn’t they just do it? There’s four Legendaries on the Council and what, five Heroics, right? Assuming even the publicly accessible knowledge is correct. And not fudged downward. If they wanted him dead, they could just have Portaled in and stomped him.”
“Might be things are a little more complicated than you guessed.”
Complicated. Yes, that’d be one word for it. But if that’s the case, how much danger am I really in? Intuition tells me that the answer lies in my brain, wrapped away and hidden in a library stored for another. Another time. Another person. Another organization. If I could…
“Are you ready?” A voice, the same one that greeted me when I came through the Portal, interrupts my thoughts.
I turn away from the window, the view of the alien city. It’s tall and sturdy towers, the people that flit between in power armor and on flying cars. I draw a deep breath and look down at the formal clothing I’m dressed in. A sky-blue military uniform with high collars, epaulets, knee-high boots, and green trimming. A single shining emblem of a griffin and crossed swords to mark who and what I am to these people. All of it pressed upon me for this very day. This very presentation.
“Lead on, MacDuff.”
And Ayuri d’Malla, former Champion of Erethra, looks me over once more and nods in approval. We turn together and walk down the sumptuous hallway to meet the Queen of Erethra. To fulfill a promise I made a long time ago.
###
The End
John and friends will return in Star’s Asunder (Book 9 of the System Apocalypse)
Author’s Note
Rebel Star took longer than I expected to write. A lot of that had to do with a long holiday I took with my family and my first writer’s conference. That conference helped focus me on the business side, a part that I had neglected to some extent. Upon consideration, I’ve decided to keep hitting conferences through 2020 which will result in a slowdown in book releases, but hopefully better books and a more stable income stream.
At the time of writing, I’m working on the next and final book for the Hidden Wishes trilogy before shifting to A Thousand Li and then returning to the System Apocalypse. I have an outline for book 9, one which will focus on the Erethran Empire and John’s place in the wider galaxy. The consequences of his actions will continue to impact him and Earth.
As many of you know, I’ve also released the first Short Story Anthology for the System Apocalypse. None of the stories are required reading for the main series, but my own story in that anthology will give context to our favorite Truinnar.
As always, I’m grateful for everyone who has followed me on this long, long journey. I hope you have enjoyed John’s journey and the ever-expanding world. If you enjoyed reading
the book, please do leave a review and rating.
In addition, if you enjoy my writing, check out my other series including my A Thousand Li (my cultivation xanxia series), the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional LitRPG fantasy) and the Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy GameLit series). Book one of each series follow:
A Thousand Li: The First Step (Book 1 of the A Thousand Li series)
A Healer’s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)
A Gamer’s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)
For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:
GameLit Society
LitRPG Books
About the Author
Tao Wong is an avid fantasy and sci-fi reader who spends his time working and writing in the North of Canada. He’s spent way too many years doing martial arts of many forms, and having broken himself too often, he now spends his time writing about fantasy worlds.
For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.com
Or sign up for my mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c35JS1
Or my Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/
Or support me on Patreon direct at: https://www.patreon.com/taowong
Glossary
Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree
Mana Imbue
Two are One
Thousand Steps
Blade Strike
The Body’s
