Firewyrm

by Erik Schubach

  I whispered in awe, “You are so beautiful. Here you go, Ember.” I gave her the apple. She happily crunched it between her massive fangs and swallowed. Nudging me again. I chuckled and laid my forehead against her. “That's the only one I have. I'll bring you more sometime, ok? I promise.”

  Flashes of images and feelings came from her. She was pleased and I had to smile at her. I realized Graz was plastered to the back of my calf and I looked back at her, her eyes bulging wide. I said, “Oh get up here, scaredy-cat. She won't hurt you.”

  Graz looked at me dubiously then buzzed up to sit on my hand as I held her out in front of Ember's saucer sized eyes. She started to open her mouth and I chuckled at the squeak of distress from Graz as I said, “No, she's not for eating. She's a friend. Like you and me.”

  She brought a huge nostril to my hand and sniffed, Graz was screaming and holding onto my thumb to stop from getting sucked in. I caught a flash of amazement, then the impression of the word friend. Then I nudged my eyes at the Sprite. She huffed then turned to the dragon, “Um, hi? Nice to meet you? I'm Graz? We met before.”

  Then her eyes widened as I felt the impression of those flashes of communication seemed to pass between them. Then Graz smiled hugely and patted Ember's nostril. “You're ok, Ember.”

  I said, “See? There's nothing to be afraid of here.”

  A voice beside me said, as Titania peered down my arm at Graz, “I wouldn't say that... human.”

  Then she was gone and fifteen feet away from us and Ember lit up... literally. Her excitement driving her magic flame and heating up the area, sending Graz screaming as she buzzed up and dove into my armor. Ember was bouncing like an excited child as she coiled around the Summer Lady and they seemed to commune in a mini-inferno that had my visor sliding up and my armor reconfiguring to fire mode.

  Then as the flames started to die back down, Queen Titania stepped through the flames, appearing by all measures to be a goddess of fire, to look me up and down as my visor opened again. “You're more resourceful than I had imagined. I take it you're here to give me the party responsible for terrorizing my baby here?”

  I squinted one eye as if in pain, “Not exactly. I needed to determine how Ember was let out to begin with, without tripping your wards, since I don't believe Mab had anything to do with it. And here I am, a human with no magic, inside Ember's pen. If you wouldn't have been so evasive and secretive, I wouldn't have had to do this. I have some solid leads now.”

  She looked from me to the space on the moss where the airlock door was supposed to be. I could see a shimmer through the magic as I tried to focus beneath the illusion. She said, “Yes, I'll have to make sure to ward that entry point too. We never would have thought anyone would ever use it.”

  Then she stalked away with Ember following her, “If you don't find the guilty party by the time the Day Lights go out, you'll be adorning my receiving hall as a fruit tree. You have two minutes to get out of here before I throw you out with prejudice... little miss nobody.”

  She was having fun with my name, rubbing it in that Shade means Nobody in Old Faerie. Then my eyes widened. Space me naked, I had to get out of here before she made good on her promise. “Buckle up Graz.”

  I reconfigured to EVA mode as I patted around the magic created moss under my feet for the airlock controls. As the door opened and we fell through, Mother informed me, “I signaled Commander Udriel, she'll be here in two minutes for the extract.”

  Good.

  Once the doors cycled after depressurization I climbed back out onto the Skin. My mag boots had just engaged when Mother yelled, “Knith, look out!” Just as what felt like a herd of charging Minotaurs hit me, sending alarms blaring in my suit and system damage warnings scrolling in my vision as I was flung off of the world, tumbling toward open space.

  Chapter 13 – The Warrior

  As I spiraled out of control in a cacophony of alarms blaring, red overlays showed damage to the armor. My mind finally supplied me with the missing piece I had overlooked. I was oddly calm, spiraling up toward the gap between the A-Rings toward open space.

  I had the three mercenary skin jockey's pegged for the culprits, but what had been nagging at me was that they didn't have access to the Double Black encoded files about the hidden airlock. Only a manager level maintenance clearance would unlock them. My heart sank because I genuinely liked and respected the man. I whispered to myself, “Max.”

  Then I shook my head and tried to concentrate. There was too much noise and lights and screens flashing at me. I shouted, “Silence alarms, minimize screens!”

  Everything went silent but one alarm that was screaming shrilly, “We're gonna diiiiiiiiiiie!”

  “Graz, shut up, let me think!”

  She snapped her mouth shut.

  I tracked our rotation. “Mother, status?”

  She said with stress coloring her tone, “The tug hit you expertly, at the proper angle and force to send you between the stacks out into interstellar space. Power modules were damaged and you are on emergency power only. Main processors are down, you are on backups.”

  Ok... remember my training. Uncontrolled spin. Right. The compressed gas canisters in my packs! I touched my hip and cussed. This mode of my armor encased everything with its nano-panels. I couldn't access the canisters. Then my eyes widened. “Mother, can you take over control of the suit's nano-panel systems?”

  “Yes, but...” She caught my train of thought. “That's brilliant!” Then she added, “The Commander is on afterburner, ETA seventy-three seconds. This will use thirty-seven percent of your oxygen reserves.”

  Then I could feel small holes opening up in the suit in an orchestrated pattern that sent streams of air out of the suit until my spin stabilized and my rotation arrested. Ok, now I could focus! I looked down to see us moving away from the Tug on the skin at a fast rate. The number A13 was emblazoned on the roof of the vehicle which confirmed Deep End's crew were one of the two I had suspected, and they hadn't been out like Max had said.

  Graz was babbling in a panic, “She can't stop our momentum like that, there isn't enough air for that. Knith, what do we do?”

  I had an idea and reached for my hip again and cursed. I couldn't get to my pouches, I had already determined that. If I survived this, I'd have to talk to the R&D department to fix that oversight. Again I asked, “Mother, can you access my gear?”

  “What do you need?” She sounded like she was about to pass out.

  “Can you put one of the mag-bands on lockdown momentarily?”

  She actually gasped and said, “Affirmative, hang on, this might hurt.”

  I almost got whiplash as I was suddenly jerked downward from my waist, and then we were speeding down toward the Skin again.

  Graz said as she climbed up to my cheek, pulling herself hand over hand, her voice filled with concern, “Umm, Knith?”

  I muttered, “I know, I know. Hang on!” I activated my mag boots and prepared myself. We hit like a missile, my armor's servos taking the brunt of the impact, normally I would have rolled to absorb most of the impact, but I couldn't outside the world or I'd get flung back off, so my legs took the rest of the impact as servo motors shorted. I grunted, refusing to yell in pain. Then it was over and I stood on shaky legs. The nano-panels reconfigured as I took an experimental step without leg servo assist. The armor was light and re-conformed around me as I moved under muscle power only.

  I think both legs were fractured though, if the pain was any indication. Graz was again saying, “Umm, Knith?”

  I looked at the Tug as its ramp lowered and two jockey rigs rolled out, speeding my way, quickly covering the hundred and fifty yards which separated us. I sighed, cracked my knuckles and rolled my head on my shoulders as I said, “Round two. Mother? Something appropriate please?”

  All my camera feeds bloomed in my peripheral, giving me a three hundred and sixty-degree view as I started charging at the incoming skin jockeys. I tore a
ranging antenna off the skin while I ran, wielding it like a bow-staff as The Warrior by Scandal blasted in the helmet in time with my heartbeat.

  My targeting systems were offline and I squinted as the rogue skin jockeys approached. I could make them out through the visor like windows. They looked like ten-foot-tall mechanical golems, with tracks instead of legs, bearing down on me. One had a pair of photonic fusers in the mechanical arms of the servicing rig.

  Those things were used to scrape off materials on the hull and to cut through just about any wreckage on the skin from meteorite impacts.

  The other held a fuser in one arm, and in the other, some sort of insulated hooked pole that looked to be used to disconnect power couplings, which it currently held like a spear. I shifted my approach so I would clash with the dual fuser wielding rig when I saw Gripper's face through the window.

  Mother was saying, “Knith, you can't fight a Mark-3 maintenance rig, let alone two.”

  I said, “Not now, Mother. Things to do, people to see.”

  Graz told her, “She's lost it. Certifiable...”

  “Zip it. Here they come.”

  Just a second before we clashed, I sent the mental command for my helmet lights to pulse at two hundred percent, burning them out in just a moment. Both the rigs raised their mechanical limbs to cover their windows as they lost track of me. That had to hurt, but they'd recover in a couple of seconds... Gripper would be worse off as the plasma burst would have burned out most of the optical receptors in his old cyber tech eye and it would take a while for it to compensate.

  He'd have a huge headache after this, but not as big as if my next move hit his actual head as I ducked under the fusers he was swinging wildly and swung my improvised weapon using as much rotation as I could while keeping my feet latched to the Skin. In the silence of space, the antennae bent and tore itself apart as it struck his visor window, sending cracks spider-webbing across it.

  I stepped past him, keeping the bulk of his rig between me and Legs while he dropped one fuser, leaving it drifting on its tether as he covered the worst of the spider-webbed ceramic infused plastic with the mechanical arm's hand. I saw him reaching up into the oversize helmet with an emergency molecular patch kit as I tried to reason with them on coms,

  “Come on, Legs, Gripper, it doesn't have to go down like this. Right now you're only wanted for arson, nobody has been hurt yet. Stand down and consider yourself bound by law.”

  Deep End called out, “This is payback, Shade. I know you have to have remembered us. We certainly remember you. It's just a shame that whore from the brothel isn't here to save you this time.”

  Then to them, he said, “Kill the bitch.”

  I sighed as Gripper growled, “With pleasure, just give me a second.”

  One of my feet was pulled out from under me and I saw Legs had slid that hooked pole between the treads of Gripper's rig to trip me up. My other boot almost detached from the hull as I fell back. Shit! She rasped out with a chuckle, “Hurry up dolt, hold her down... I'm taking her hand before we take her out. I owe her.”

  I regained my footing and leapt, detaching my mag boots and grabbing the tethered fuser, using my momentum to swing around Gripper as I switched on the fuser and swung, slicing cleanly through one of Leg's mechanical arms like it wasn't even there, the fuser and arm spiraled away off into the void.

  I activated my mag boots, stretching one foot down, and I was barely in range for the magnets to pull me slowly down until they engaged. I slashed backward, burying the fuser into Gripper's Rig. I could see all the flashing warning lights inside his rig as it depressurized. I closed my eyes for a second and whispered into space, “I'm sorry.”

  Then I tried to pull the fuser free, but it was stuck. Double shit. I backed away, grabbing a metallic piece of debris floating past, it looked to be a knuckle from one of the arms I had sliced through. Great, might as well have been a stone knife or club. I taunted, trying to sound more confident than I was, “Looks like you lost another hand there, Legs. You might want to take better care of them than that.”

  She screamed out in frustration and she was on top of me faster than I could backpedal. My reflexes could barely keep up as she struck at me with the pole, over and over, my arms shook with each impact and I slid back on the hull five feet or more with each strike.

  Deep End was on coms, “Trisha, get the fuck out of the way and I'll just run her ass over with the tug. She's dangerous!”

  I thought to myself, “No, Trish, Keep pushing your attack so he doesn't make me a splat on his windscreen.”

  I cut coms and asked, “Mother? Where's Myra?”

  “Fifteen seconds out.”

  Then I screamed in pain when I deflected a down thrust, but the mechanical arm was multiple times stronger than me and her thrust didn't stop, and the armor sparked in space as the hooked end stabbed through the muscle of my left leg. Alarms were again blaring as the nano-panels formed a mostly airtight seal around the pole.

  When she went to yank the pole back I went with it, like a butterfly on a pin. I opened a channel again and said through the excruciating pain, “Is that all you got?” My voice ragged and gasping.

  She pulled the improvised spear to her so she could look at me as she smiled cruelly through her window. I glanced at the insulated pole, my eyes blurry with pain, then at the remains of her other mechanical arm, drizzling sparks in space.

  She said, “Just wanted to say fuck you, before I killed you, bitch.”

  I smiled weakly and said, “I'm not so easy to kill, Trish.” Then my hand shot out and grabbed the a sparking cable from the damaged arm, yanked some slack free, and jammed it into the diagnostic data port on the chest of her rig.

  I heard her screams for a moment on coms before static. Deep End was yelling Trish's name as I ground out through the pain in my leg as the arm dropped and the pole dislodged from its grip, “Where's Myra?”

  I looked up to see the tug's engines fire and the vessel started to careen toward me. Then it was gone in a fireball, the shock-wave and debris pelting me, damaging my armor more. I was gasping for what limited air I had left when a smug voice sounded on coms, “She's right here, Shade. You have a death wish or something?”

  Graz and Mother chimed out emphatically in unison, “Yes!”

  I chuckled and said as I shut down all the alarms, “If you're all done mocking me, could I possibly get a ride to Med-Tech? I seem to be leaking fluids into my boots. Some of it blood, some not.”

  The Ready Squadron Sentinel ship was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen as it swung around to hang millimeters off the Skin in front of me, the airlock door opening. The two steps I needed to take to get some momentum were the most painful of my life, fractures and torn up muscles before I deactivated the mag boots to drift up into the chamber. I could barely get inside with that damn pole through my leg.

  Graz was buzzing out of my helmet the moment the airlock pressurized and my helmet snicked halfway up, sparking. She seemed at home in the virtual zero-G. I chuckled and muttered, “Sure, run away. I'm ok.”

  The moment the inner door opened, Graz was in Myra's face, speaking shrilly in a panic, “You gotta fix her! She's hurt, bad!”

  I looked up from the feet which stopped in front of me. Myra looked alarmed, but she tried to play it cool. “You done fucked yourself up, Knith. Did you really just take on two Jockey Rigs hand to hand in hard vacuum? And won?”

  I chuckled and looked at her helplessly. “We have different definitions of winning, you and I,” motioning a hand to my sparking armor and my messed up leg.

  She shook her head, whistled, then descended upon me with a plasma blade and an emergency med-kit. My eyes widened and I whimpered at the plasma blade as she lowered it to the pole. She rolled her eyes. “Wimp.”

  Before too long, I was strapped in the co-pilot seat as we rocketed toward a Beta-Stack Ready Squadron hangar because they had the finest doctors and Fae healers i
n their own Med-Bay. I had quipped, “Only the best for Ready Squadron.”

  “You better believe it.”

  Mother was in my ear. “Why do you have to keep doing this sort of thing?”

  What? It wasn't like I did it on purpose.

  Then I hissed in pain when Graz poked the field bandage on my leg. “Does that hurt? Good. You crazy big.” Then she softened as she buzzed up to hold my nose on either side in her hands, “I'm glad you're not dead.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  Then I asked, “Mother?”

  She sounded pleased and vindicated as she said, “A contingent of Battalion Enforcers is currently binding Commander Hardy by law.” Myra cocked an eyebrow at the emotion in Mother's tone.

  I nodded to myself in relief, and our Sprite companion asked, “Max? Well Titania's panties, I liked the null.”

  As the ship glided nimbly into the hangar, I muttered, “Me too.”

  Chapter 14 - Viva La Vida

  I winced for another reason the moment the med-tech medics and Fae carried me out of the ship on a litter. A very angry and concerned-looking Winter Maiden was standing there, arms crossed over her chest. Frost was building up on her and spreading across the floor at her feet. Some Knith was in trouble, and I think it was me.

  She huffed and dropped her arms, ice and frost falling from her clothing as she strode up to me. The lead med-tech looked about to tell her to go wait somewhere, but he had the common sense enough to hold his tongue when a Greater Fae was approaching with her magics leaking everywhere, eyes aflame with icy fire.

  Aurora looked at the shambles of my armor, some of which was fused to my skin and would likely have to be peeled off, and at my leg. Then she slapped me upside the head as I lay on the litter suspended by the two Naiad water nymph orderlies, judging by their blue hair and lips. “What were you thinking? Going out there alone without backup? You could have been...”