by Isaac Hooke
“What if we can’t tell who’s an Essenceworker and who isn’t?” Tane pressed.
“Oh, you’ll be able to tell,” Sinive said. “Most of the TSN Essenceworkers can’t wear power armor. And those that can wear it are all the hand-to-hand type, like Jed. The rest wear armored robes, similar to Volurs. Remember, TSN Essenceworkers are weaker in the Essence than you are.”
“But Chrysalium gear can boost their strength to near equal levels,” Jed commented.
“Sure, but it’s expensive,” Sinive said. “I still think they’ll be stuffing their ranks to the brim with combat robots. Only because it’s so much more cost effective.”
“I thought they agreed to limit the number of soldiers present for the swap to sixteen?” Gia said.
Jed nodded. “Yes, but they’ll probably bring more. I’d do it. Enough to stay within treaty boundaries. A hundred.”
“They’ll keep them aboard and in reserve,” Tane said. “Ready to send them out when I inevitably betray them. So it won’t be as easy as turning back after a quick survey of the site from afar.”
“Perhaps not,” Jed said. “But the Mosaic will be lying in reserve nearby as well. Ready to fire dragons into the square if need-be.”
“Assuming the city’s security forces don’t shoot her down in the process,” Tane said. He sighed. “It’s a simple plan. Maybe too simple.”
“Those are the best plans,” Jed said. “Too many moving parts and there’s a much greater chance of failure.”
“What if the Mautauraen decide they want to capture him, too, while we’re out there?” Gia asked, nodding toward Tane. “They must have heard about the World Bender by now…”
“You’ll have to take the usual precautions,” Jed replied. “Blurring your facial features, and maintaining your spoofed IDs. Use the caps I purchased for you on Sigma 231.”
“Do you have a cap?” Tane asked Gia.
In answer, she reached into her storage pouch and produced one. She set it on her head.
“Good,” Tane said.
Gia looked at Jed. “What are we going to do about their armor situation?”
“I plan to wear an armored robe,” Tane said.
Gia glanced at Sinive. “What about you?”
Sinive tugged at her white dress. “This is my armor.”
Gia frowned.
“Where’s yours?” Sinive pressed.
Gia was wearing her usual clingy, midriff-baring top and bottom.
“I have a powerful shield generator,” Gia said. “Makes up for it.”
“Mine will do,” Sinive said.
Gia shook her head, and then delved into her storage pouch, producing a palm-sized disk. She tossed it to Sinive, whose eyes promptly widened.
“I can lend you my backup,” Gia said. “But I expect you to return it when this is over.”
A backup shield generator. There was an idea.
Sinive attached it to her belt next to the original generator she possessed.
“Can both of these be active at the same time?” she asked.
“No,” Gia responded. “But you can link them, and program the second to act as failover in case the first cuts out.”
“Nice,” Sinive said. “You sure you don’t want it? As a failover for your own?”
“Ordinarily that’s exactly what I’d use it for,” Gia said. “But since you’re so poorly equipped, you take it. You’ll need it more than me.”
“I appreciate it,” Sinive said.
“As do I,” Tane told the corrector.
Gia bowed her head. “Just as I appreciate what you’re doing for Jed.”
Tane glanced at his HUD. “Well. Guess it’s time to head out. They’ll be there in an hour.” He glanced at Jed, wanting the Volur’s blessing.
“Not yet,” Jed said. “I have some gifts for Sinive, too.” He reached into his pouch, and handed Sinive a small bundle.
She opened it to reveal a few silver rings, and a pair of bracelets.
“Chrysalium,” Jed said with a shrug. “Since I won’t be needing it.”
The Volur also gave her his Essence-imbued pistol.
Tane couldn’t resist running a quick ID on it.
Weapon: B1 “Hunter” Plasma Pistol.
Model: Biter H-11 Rev a. (enhanced)
Item type: Epic
Additional damage: 150% added plasma burn damage per hit.
Additional effects: Pistoleers skill behaves as if one level higher while equipped. 50% chance of launching an Essence bolt instead of a plasma bolt every thirty seconds. Can be transformed into a rifle for precision fire.
Essence-Imbued bonus: +1 Endurance while equipped. +5 Dexterity while equipped. 45% bonus to Chrysalium Siphoning.
Chrysalium bonus: +1 Intelligence while equipped.
Pistol/Rifle specific:
Firing rate: choice of single fire, or semi-automatic: 2 - 45 round bursts.
Recharge rate: 10 seconds per expended round (if fire all 45 rounds in a single burst, full recharge is essentially 10 seconds later)
Overall weapon charge: 100%.
Required to equip:
- Pistoleer Level 1
- Sharpshooting Level 1 (for rifle mode)
“You should be giving that weapon to me,” Tane said jealously. “Along with the Chrysalium.”
“You’ve got enough toys.” Sinive lifted the weapon to eye level. “Nice.”
In truth, Tane was slightly disappointed that the weapon didn’t have a smart targeting mode, but he supposed that Jed probably had a high enough skill in Pistoleer and Sharpshooting that it didn’t matter. Sinive likely had a relatively high skill in both, too, at least compared to Tane.
Obviously wanting to test the Dexterity bonus, Sinive slid a hand back and forth in front of her face. Her speed was whip-like, and her hand made an audible cutting sound through the air with each pass.
“Very nice!” She turned to Jed. “So, how about your power armor?”
“You can’t equip it,” Jed said.
“Sword?”
“Don’t get greedy,” Jed said. “And you can’t equip it, either. But you can have my piercings if you like.”
“Well that seems… unhygienic. Hum... oh why not. I’ll try them anyway.”
Jed removed his two Chrysalium piercings and handed them to her. She studied them uncertainly. “They’re a bit big for my ears. This is going to hurt.”
She went into the bathroom, shrieked a few times, and then returned. One ring was strung through her right earlobe, and the labret threaded through her left. The skin around both of them was a bright red.
Tane didn’t know whether to cringe or to burst out laughing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help the latter.
“That’s right, ha ha ha,” Sinive said angrily. “They look ridiculous, I know. But we’ll see if you’re still laughing when you see what I can do in combat. Gah. But these things hurt like a bitch. You’re going to be healing my ears when this is done, damn it!”
Tane turned toward the Volur and shook his hand.
“Thank you for everything, my friend,” Tane told the man. “When we meet again, Lyra and Nebb will be with us.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Engineer,” Jed said.
S’Wraathar lingered on the bridge of his main starship, the Doom Killer, in orbit above a small moon in Umanitar, the universe of the Hated Enemy. He kept his vessel there, within the influence of the gravity well, ready to jump at a moment’s notice.
When he had contacted his patron after the Doomwielder had gotten away a second time, S’Wraathar had expected to be destroyed. But instead, the patron took the news calmly, and didn’t seem angry in the least. When S’Wraathar had finished, incredibly the patron had granted him another gift.
S’Wraathar examined the lump of dark rock that sat next to the base of his tentacles. He’d strapped it there in full view mostly to show his followers that the patron still favored them, but he’d also chosen that particular spot for another reason: i
t sat behind the stump of the tentacle that the Doomwielder’s female companion had severed.
He had used that tentacle to wield his Cha’var, the dweller equivalent of the beam hilt, and it had taken an injection of nanotech to transfer the muscle memory over to a new limb. He had placed the patron’s gift specifically behind that stump to remind himself of the cost of failure.
In the deck holes beside him, the Karthaar flexed their tentacles impatiently. They were eager to fight, as was he. They wanted to complete their mission, and save the universe from the Doomwielder.
M’Graanulus resided closest to him, his ever loyal, ever faithful lieutenant, leader of the Karthaar. M’Graanulus had served aboard the inter-dimensional flagship of the Cre’ite empire, the Hammerglorung. He had been there with S’Wraathar the day the Robes came. He had watched S’Wraathar take the heads of many of those Robes, while their companions lamented.
That was the day the Hammerglorung was lost. In the aftermath, he learned that the Cre’ite homeworld had been destroyed in a twin operation executed by the Hated Enemy a mere thirty-six hours earlier. His Cre’ite masters hadn’t shared that information with him and the crew. Maybe they themselves hadn’t known.
Before that day, S’Wraathar and everyone aboard had thought the Cre’ite and their empire were all powerful. Invincible. But when he barely escaped with his life and watched the treasured Cre’ite flagship disintegrate, its liquid hydrocarbon oceans desublimating into a yellow mist that spread out among the dead, he realized the truth: the Cre’ite were weak, and no longer deserved to rule over the other tribes. At the time, he hadn’t even been sure how many of them had survived, given the loss of the homeworld.
S’Wraathar had returned to his home planet on the far side of the galaxy with the survivors of his tribe. His hatred of the Hated Enemy, and the weak Cre’ite, simmered inside of him. In time, he would interpret the downfall of the Hammerglorung and the destruction of the Cre’ite homeworld as a sign that the prophecy of the Doomwielder was coming to pass. In fact, he soon became convinced that the Doomwielder had been born. For did it not say in the prophecy that the Doomwielder would come when his people were at their weakest? That the Doomwielder would strike in the darkness, and elevate his people into the light?
Some interpreted that line to mean the Doomwielder would enlighten S’Wraathar’s people. But to S’Wraathar, that meant the Doomwielder would destroy them all. Was not the power used by the Robes and the Hated Enemy made of light? Yes, S’Wraathar understood his true destiny, then. He would scour the galaxy for the Doomwielder, and when he found him, he would slay him before he could inflict this harm.
When S’Wraathar tried to tell the others that the Doomwielder had come, few believed him. Among those that did was M’Graanulus. He was the first of his converts. The other Karthaar followed shortly thereafter, and they rebelled against the leaders of their tribe, slaughtering the chiefs, and taking control. With their resources, he planned to begin his search for the Doomwielder.
But the Cre’ite didn’t approve of this rebellion of theirs, and planned to squelch it. They sent ships and troops. S’Wraathar fled with his most loyal servants before they arrived. To the outskirts of known space he and his stalwart brethren went. It was there that they discovered the planet Yant, and the lone dweller that lived there. The dweller that introduced S’Wraathar to his patron.
A meeting that changed everything.
The ship’s AI interrupted his dark reminiscing.
“Great Flame, I have news from our moles in the Cre’ite monitoring station,” the AI said.
“Speak it,” S’Wraathar said impatiently. The monitoring station was a secret outpost in Umanitar, built close to the high command of the Hated Enemy. With it, the Cre’ite were able to spy upon all communications made by the Enemy. The Cre’ite had succeeded in cracking the encryption protocol years ago, with the help of kidnapped human scientists. Their disappearances were made to appear as accidental deaths. So far, the Hated Enemy hadn’t realized the Cre’ite had cracked their protocols, though they were probably beginning to suspect. The Cre’ite advantage wouldn’t last for much longer.
“The one they call the Bender of Worlds has agreed to trade himself to the Hated Enemy,” the AI said.
“Trade himself?” S’Wraathar said. “Whatever for?”
“In exchange for the release of two prisoners, and a starship,” the AI explained.
Fool! The Doomwielder would give himself up to the Hated Enemy in exchange for two insignificant creatures, and a mere ship? Maybe he intended to betray the TSN. Either way, it was foolish to risk his life in such a way, no matter how important the creatures were to him. Well, all the better for S’Wraathar.
“I assume we have a place and time for this trade?” S’Wraathar said.
“We do,” the AI said. “It will take place on H’Ialanthan: a planet they call Xalantas. I am sharing the coordinates with you now. The meeting is to take place in approximately one of their standard hours.”
It was time to use the patron’s technology to jump directly to the planet in question. The trick was to get close enough to avoid tussling with any members of the space navy that might be present, belonging to the Hated Enemy or otherwise.
He would have to strike fast. Relying on the speed and ferocity of his attack to catch the security forces off guard. Jump in. Kill the Doomwielder. Jump out before the enemy could muster a response.
He'd have to call in his second ship to serve as a decoy, drawing fire from the orbital defense platforms and any other attackers while his main starship dealt with the Doomwielder.
That meant he would first have to jump to the Kavanaarth system, where the second starship lingered in Umanitar, and then after relaying his commands the two ships would jump together to H’Ialanthan.
“Dispatch the jump specialists to the chamber,” he ordered his AI. “We Leap to Kavanaarth.”
S’Wraathar folded his fore-tentacles in pleasure, and then caressed the small lump of rock tied to his carapace.
His gaze drifted to the severed tentacle beyond. He wondered if the female creature that had done this to him would be present. Most likely.
Oh, he couldn’t wait. He would kill her first, right in front of the Doomwielder. And then, as grief blinded his foe, S’Wraathar would take him next.
Everything was going to work out well this time. He was sure of it.
Good-bye, Doomwielder.
32
Tane, Sinive and Gia sheltered underneath a canopy of trees that had been planted at the top of a low-rise apartment building. The apartment bordered the planned site for the exchange—a park near the downtown core. At their current location, they could look down and observe the park in its entirety.
The three of them had arrived thirty minutes early, and because of their position underneath the boughs of those trees, they wouldn’t be visible to any landing craft descending from orbit.
They all wore blurring caps. Before leaving the apartment, Tane had managed to convince Sinive and Gia to don spacesuits at the last minute, if only for the armor rating. But they left the helmets behind, not wanting to impact their peripheral vision.
Tane didn’t wear a spacesuit because he obtained a higher armor rating with the robe alone, which was rated a twenty on its own but only a five when compressed to fit underneath the spacesuit. With the suit rated a ten, that meant his overall rating with the suit and robe together was a fifteen, or five less than the armored robe by itself. So when combined with the Nova Bracelet I, Osmium Gauntlets I, and A3 Personal Shield system, his overall rating was forty-three. Not too shabby.
The three of them had stood out earlier on the trek to the park: the men and women on the streets wore long, hooded black robes to shield themselves from the hot sun. The trio had quickly purchased their own robes from a portable vendor and her cloth printer, and they’d wrapped the fabrics over their attire before continuing. It didn’t really do much to hide the bulk of the spacesuits Gia
and Sinive wore, but at least they were a little less obvious.
Digital augmentations had overlapped his vision along the way, so much so that Tane had disabled digital overlays entirely—he didn’t need any interruptions during the coming battle.
Yes, he had resigned himself to the fact that there would be combat. When he betrayed the TSN, they wouldn’t let him go without a fight.
Gia still had the shuttle she’d rented from the shipyard, and she had sent it to Jed’s balcony to retrieve him. She’d also hired a temporary robot assistant to help Jed load and unload. The shuttle had already flown him to the Mosaic outside of town, where he supervised the starship from sickbay.
Tane still remembered Jed’s words during the planning phases: “I might be bedridden, but I can still fight.”
After dropping off Jed, the shuttle had flown back to the short-term rental to retrieve G’allanthamas. The craft had hovered directly outside his balcony, and the alien had entered with his blurring field active. The shuttle had landed on a rooftop overlooking the park, two buildings away from Tane’s current position. G’allanthamas remained inside that shuttle, ready to emerge when the time came. The craft was partially screened by a series of trees planted around the landing pad of the building in question.
Tane live-streamed the video feed from his chip to both Jed and G’allanthamas, and also kept the pair connected on the voice comm, their mixnets piggybacking on the Galnet.
Tane surveyed the park. It was about one square kilometer in area. He had already observed the spot in detail with Jed via the 3D maps on the Galnet. The positions of the fountains, the trees, the tall monument to the planet’s founders, they all matched his digital scouting exactly. He had chosen this particular overwatch area during the advance walk-through.
Situated around the edges of the park, and next to some of the fountains and trees inside it, lingered innocuous looking delivery robots, some ground-based, others airborne. Sinive had surreptitiously hacked those robots on the way to the site. The robots were mostly useless when it came to combat, but the plan was to bombard the troops of the TSN with those polycarbonate bodies to up the chaos quotient.
