by Jacob Holo
“Gnh!” The impact burned.
“I’m on it!” Tesset, still invisible, descended towards the archangel gun-line.
Three close-combat archangels remained, their positions forming the points of a tight triangle before him. Seth crossed his swords and dashed through the middle. With two swift strokes, he cut two down, then sped upward and gutting the last with a deep slice through its back.
All three archangels exploded.
Seth spread his wings out and rushed after Tesset, who was doing an admirable job occupying six—make that four ranged-combat archangels.
An alert appeared in Seth’s mind from the Alliance battle network. He turned to see a massive fold point blossom outward. The ring of light faded to reveal the Glorious Destiny at the rear of the Outcast fleet. Its five kilometer length came about until it pointed directly at the Gate.
Four standard thrones launched from its bays, followed by two full squadrons of archangels. These took up escort positions to the front and rear of the thrones.
Then two more thrones descended from the command ship. One with white armor and masculine lines. The other black, slender, and feminine.
Quennin…
The Glorious Destiny aligned its main gun with the Gate Maelstrom. A fat exodrone Seth had seen before fell in behind the command ship and offloaded the gun’s supply of antimatter. The Glorious Destiny never carried antimatter except when ready to fire, eliminating such a weapon’s most notorious weakness.
The antimatter slug cycled into the Glorious Destiny’s main gun, then found itself spread out into an atom-thin sheet by specialized gravitic fields. Antimatter converged with a matching sheet of matter, reacting with little waste. Mass converted directly to energy, focused down the full length of the Glorious Destiny by powerful magnetic and gravitic fields.
What exited the Glorious Destiny was a blinding white spear forged from nine gigatons of explosive force.
The beam slammed into the Gate anchors, eating straight through two of them without stopping. The anchors glowed red-hot, then exploded into a hail of debris that swirled around the Gate.
Six thrones and twenty-four archangels flew out to join the battle.
Chapter 15
To the Death
Quennin drove power into her halo-wings and accelerated into formation with Veketon. They flew out with two squadrons of silver-skinned archangels configured for ranged combat and four escort thrones.
The Outcast fleet continued its assault. A heavy blockade of seraphs and Alliance warships defended the Gate, but some of the Outcast ships slipped through. There were simply too many of them.
“Remember, our goal is to add credibility to this attack,” Veketon said. “We must draw Aktenzek away from Earth. Then our path to Lunatic Ziggurat will be clear.”
“But won’t Aktenzek stay back if we disable the Gate anchors?” Quennin asked. “If it came loose, it could damage or even destroy the planet.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Veketon said. “Despite their size, the fortress planets Aktenzek and Zu’Rashik do not mar space with their gravity wells. The Gate will not be attracted to them if released. And Aktenzek can reverse its gravitic fields to repel the Gate, if necessary.”
“Your design?”
“No, I am saddened to admit it was Ziriken’s. The man is occasionally of some use.”
Veketon led their formation towards the frontlines.
On all sides, ships of the Alliance and Outcast Nations maneuvered, fired, and died. Beams carved across space as momentary lines of white. Torpedoes volleyed forth in heavy salvos. Archangels clashed with seraphs. Fire and debris filled space.
The command formation pressed on, passing beyond the main Outcast lines and into the greater battle. A horde of Grendeni archangels approached from ahead, looking like some crazed swarm of angry insects at this distance.
“Archangels, hold here,” Veketon said.
Twenty-four Outcast archangels formed up into two rough gun-lines. They opened fire with rail-rifles and launched thick volleys of tactical seekers. Some of the Alliance archangels died, their barriers flashing weakly before collapsing, but the huge swarm readied their swords and closed in, ignorant of their losses.
“Thrones forward.”
Four escort thrones broke formation and attacked.
“Are you ready?” Veketon asked.
“Of course.” Combat did not frighten her. It fulfilled her.
“Then let us join this battle.”
Veketon’s halo-wings crackled with blue chaotic energies. He surged forward with Quennin just behind him.
The enemy archangels were close now, appearing as winged copper skeletons. The Grendeni engineers had thrown all complexity away when they created the first archangels. No armor covered their internal systems, and their faint yellow barriers provided minimal protection. But their long swords burned with power and menace, capable of harming even a throne if they struck. And there were so very many of them.
The Alliance swarm thinned under constant fire, yet they still hit the thrones with reckless abandon. The four escort thrones tore through the archangels, rending them and their swords with talons and brute strength. The swarm pressed on, choking the thrones with sheer numbers.
Quennin dove into the melee and brought her chaos glaive through the nearest archangel. The weapon cut like a finely-crafted sword through silk, splitting the archangel at the waist. The force of her attack ruptured its fluidic transfers and pulverized internal systems. Two broken halves floated away, spurting yellow ichor.
To her left, Veketon lunged at a foe. His portal lance pierced through the archangel’s chest. Its script flared with power, and the impaled archangel exploded.
Three archangels swarmed over him. Veketon unleashed a flurry of quick stabs. The portal lance barely grazed them, but each burst into copper junk.
“Pathetic imitations,” he breathed.
“You’re just jealous you didn’t design them.”
“Ha! Maybe so.”
The archangel swarm pressed in with suffocating numbers. One came at Quennin’s side. She focused her barrier energy and raised an arm. The archangel’s sword struck her forearm. Its blade bit in, but couldn’t penetrate past her mnemonic skin. She felt an inkling of pain, like skin splashed with scalding water.
“Get off!” Quennin threw the archangel back. She swept her glaive through its torso.
Despite the Grendeni swarm’s size, the six thrones tore through them quickly. In short order, Veketon had the formation reformed and heading towards the Gate once again.
“One of our escorts is damaged,” Quennin said.
“A few too many sword strikes to the left arm,” Veketon said. “It’s nothing to worry about. The throne is already regenerating its flesh.”
“Should we send it back to the Destiny?”
“An unnecessary precaution. Even thrones are ultimately expendable. We can always make more of these mindless versions. And once we have access to Lunatic Ziggurat, their production will be far easier.”
Quennin nodded. Plus they could use the extra fighting strength once they cleared the main Outcast fleet.
“We’re going to be exposed if we continue like this,” she said.
“Yes, but I need to test the portal lance on the Gate. I must confirm that I can still command its higher functions.”
Veketon guided the formation around the worst fighting, skirting the edges of combat. Alliance warships, archangels, and seraphs broke from their battle groups and headed for the thrones and their escorts.
But the Alliance was stretched thin in this battle. By attempting to guard the Gate from all directions, they had extended their formations to the breaking point. Outcast ships and archangels maneuvered about, attacking where and when they chose, constantly dividing the Alliance’s attention. The Alliance clearly wanted to engage the thrones, but circumstances continuously drew them away.
Quennin followed Veketon closer to the Gate Maels
trom. Veketon left the thrones and archangels behind, keeping them back as a rearguard.
“Several seraph squadrons are converging on our escorts,” Quennin said.
“We don’t need much time.”
“Are you sure? When’s the last time you did this?”
“Heh, point taken. But fear not. I will only utilize a fraction of the lance’s power. A small application, enough to prove to myself that all is well. When next I need those skills, time may be short.”
Quennin and Veketon passed through the edge of the Maelstrom. Fast rivers of particles swirled around them, carried on ever-changing currents. Icy asteroids and planetary fragments floated by. The Gate and its damaged array of anchors loomed directly ahead.
An alert opened in Quennin’s mind. She stopped and turned back to the expansive battle. Alliance negator coverage shifted, creating gaps in the field coverage. Someone was being allowed to make a short fold within the Maelstrom battle theater.
Six fold points snapped open, disgorging gleaming silver seraphs inside the Maelstrom. The Renseki formed up and closed in.
“Risky this close to the Gate,” Veketon said. “But their gamble appears to have paid off.”
Quennin studied the approaching seraphs. The twins, Kevik and Kiro, flew at the head, their shunts burning with fierce orange light. Zo Nezrii followed, her lustrous silver seraph etched with blue energy. Then came Mezen in his larger command seraph, its more numerous flourishes glowing yellow.
The two most senior Renseki formed a small rear guard: Dota Venru and Rezzell Z’Zeku. Though not the strongest nor most famed members of the Sovereign’s honor guard, they had distinguished themselves through long, unflinching years of service. Both had received their elevations to the Renseki decades before Quennin’s birth.
“If you wish, I will handle this fight,” Veketon said, his voice carried a hint of concern.
Quennin shook her head. She recalled her own words to Seth. “You know what’s to come. Be true to yourself. Don’t you hold back, because I won’t.”
The memory of those words steeled her for the battle to come.
The Renseki slowed, pulling into a line abreast, and stopped relative to the thrones. Zo drew her twin swords, beautifully crafted blades that curved gently back. Their edges lit with practiced ease, and Zo pointed one at Quennin.
“Stand aside. We have come for the traitor Veketon.”
“I will not.”
“We shall deliver the Sovereign’s justice to this traitor,” Zo said. “Stand. Aside.”
“No.” Quennin readied her glaive, infusing it with energy.
“So be it.” Zo spoke the words so softly they were almost inaudible. “So be it,” she repeated. Then, in a loud voice, “Quennin S’Kev! You are guilty of conspiring with enemies of the Alliance! We will not stand down! We will not turn away! We are the Sovereign’s honor guard, and we fear no enemy!”
Zo spread her wings out. Their edges flashed with power, and she shot forward. The other five Renseki charged in behind her. To Quennin’s left, Veketon accelerated, and she followed him.
Zo came straight for Quennin and swung one of her swords. Quennin drew her glaive around and struck back. The weapons clashed, sparking blue and black, like fire from an arcane forge. Their weapons ground against each other. Zo’s wings glowed with power, driving her attack home. Quennin’s own halo-wings burned even brighter.
Zo swung in with her off-hand sword, and Quennin spun her glaive, blocking the attack and knocking Zo back.
Mezen’s command seraph lined up both forearms on Quennin and fired. She darted out of the way, four fusion beams shooting past. The beams struck a planetary fragment, blasting rock and ice into the Maelstrom.
The Renseki were the finest Aktenzek had to offer, experienced and battle-hardened experts at coordinated warfare. And so it was with little surprise that, as Quennin backed away from Mezen’s attack, two seraphs came at her from behind.
Kevik and Kiro swooped in, each holding a single-edged blade. Quennin spun to meet them. She dashed to the right, placing one twin in front of the other to disrupt their attack.
The first twin struck, and Quennin parried his attack. Orange energy crackled between his sword and her glaive. His wings narrowed, and he pushed in, edges igniting with powerful energies, but Quennin overpowered him and threw him back.
The twin retreated. Quennin sensed motion behind her.
Too late!
Four sun-hot beams struck her back, and she reeled from the combined force. The energy splashed across her barrier, scorching nerves and sending fingers of pain dancing up and down her spine. She struck an errant piece of debris, some ancient glacier, and shattered it.
A twin came at her, and Quennin had only a moment to recover. She brought her glaive about and spun it against the twin’s attack. Quennin’s block struck with such force that the twin’s weapon cracked. The top section of his blade lost its coherency and died.
Damage cascaded up the seraph’s arm. Silver mnemonic skin rent, and fluidic lines burst open. Fractures formed within the seraph’s endoskeleton.
Quennin bashed the twin’s sword upward, then pulled underneath the attack. She severed the Renseki’s arm at the wrist, spun tightly, and cleaved through his chest.
Kiro Torvulus was dead.
The seraph fragments tumbled, orange fluid pulsing from severed lines, turning black as influx from the pilot died off.
Quennin had no time to pause, no time to think. Zo came in behind her while Kevik closed from the front. Quennin picked one and attacked first.
Her glaive struck Kevik’s sword dead-on. Tremendous energy transferred in a single blinding second. Kevik’s machine fell back and crashed into the surface of a jagged asteroid. Rock and ice geysered up from the impact.
Zo rushed in from behind, but Quennin blocked with her forearm. Zo’s sword cut through her barrier and tore into the flesh underneath. In the cockpit, the skin of her true forearm sizzled. Nano-cilia from her slipsuit extended into the wound, repairing her flesh.
“Not good enough, Zo!” she shouted.
Quennin brought her glaive around, but the angle wasn’t quite right. Her glaive met Zo’s second sword with a flash of energy, but she couldn’t follow through.
“Then how about this!” Zo pulled her first sword free of Quennin’s forearm and chopped down again.
This time, Zo struck the arm holding the chaos glaive and cut all the way to the endoskeleton. Black fluid erupted from the wound.
Quennin growled deep in her throat. She ignored the pain and lunged forward. Her free hand clenched Zo’s arm. Talons sunk into the seraph, breaking through Zo’s barrier in snaps of blue energy. Mirror-brilliant armor crumpled, and hot fluid pulsed out.
With a sharp snap, Quennin ripped the seraph’s arm off. Fluid gushed from the ruined stump, but transfer lines quickly bypassed the damage. Mnemonic skin flowed outward, reprogramming around the exposed internals.
Zo screamed.
Beams shot in again, slamming into Quennin’s primary halo-wing. She spun away, but shook it off and regained control. She slipped behind a large icy asteroid, putting it between her and Mezen’s guns.
Kevik and Zo followed her around, and further behind, Mezen moved to a new firing position. Veketon was heavily engaged with the two senior Renseki pilots, but Quennin could see that he was maneuvering to attack Mezen from behind.
Quennin brought her glaive up and met Kevik and Zo head on. Zo struck first, but her wounds had taken some of the fight out of her. Quennin felt the weakening of her opponent clearly, and she struck again with terrible power.
Zo fell back, and Quennin saw an opening. She closed and swung her glaive down, cutting through several of the Renseki’s wing blades. Zo spun away and struck the asteroid hard.
Quennin’s attack on Zo left her side open. Kevik came in, swinging down with his sword and striking her primary halo-wing. Black and orange sparks cascaded off the halo-wing as if it were a wheel grinding
metal. The gravity coupling held strong, and the halo-wing did not falter. If she’d been flying a seraph, her wings would have been shorn off.
But she wasn’t.
Quennin grabbed the Renseki’s sword-arm with her free hand and hacked it off with her glaive. The twin bolted back, his severed limb streaming orange liquid. He lit his wings at full power, trying to get away, but Quennin gave chase. She swung up, cutting into the Renseki at his waist, and drove her glaive up and through the opposite shoulder.
Kevik Torvulus was dead.
Quennin spotted Mezen coming around the asteroid. Veketon came in behind and Quennin flew out to overwhelm the lone Renseki. A pearl of thought in her mind registered the deaths of Dota and Rezzell at Veketon’s hands.
Mezen tried to get away, but he was not a fast pilot. His skills had always leaned towards ranged combat, a fact made evident by the twin fusion cannon mounts on each forearm. He clearly saw that he could not run and could not hope to defeat the two foes speeding towards him. Slowly, with a sense of acknowledgement for what was to come, he reached behind his seraph and drew a long chaos sword. Its dual edges ignited with hot yellow fire.
Veketon came in first, striking the pilot viciously with a weapon even more powerful than Quennin’s. Mezen managed to block the attack, but it left him exposed.
Quennin dashed in. She thrust her glaive forward and impaled Mezen from behind.
Mezen Daed was dead.
Quennin yanked her weapon free.
The Renseki seraph floated away, yellow fluid spurting from its chest. Shunts dimmed, then died. The bleeding liquids reverted to their unsaturated black coloring.
Quennin turned back to the asteroid and Zo’s crashed seraph. She spotted her getting tentatively to her feet. Pulses of fluid dribbled from her severed wing stubs.
Quennin dove at her. Zo saw her coming, but her defense was totally inadequate. Quennin knocked her opponent’s sword back and cleaved through the seraph’s wrist. Quennin followed through, drawing her glaive across both of the seraph’s knees.
With nothing left of its limbs but stumps, the seraph fell against the asteroid’s surface. Quennin put a foot on the seraph’s torso and pressed down. Fluid jetted from the seraph’s wounds.
