Rise of the Defiant: Book Two of the Warpmancer Series

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  ‘Shadow, Captain and now Defiant, I followed you on the blood-stained stretch of Red Sand, of the now blighted world.’

  This was the most verbose the alien had ever been.

  ‘I have seen your skill and I was struck with awe. I knew there were great things to come for you.’

  ‘What’s he going on about,’ Ryan whispered.

  ‘My people now know as well…’

  James now noticed that many Grays were looking towards the group - not with distrust or curiosity, but admiration.

  ‘The Shamans have spoken!’ the volume of Molok’s speech was like a crack of a whip. He turned and opened the double doors, entering.

  James, group in tow, followed and were met with a sea of grey.

  ‘The Shamans have spoken!’ Molok repeated, his voice a thunderbolt being answered by the cheers of thousands of Gray voices.

  ‘Our saviour is reborn!’

  James made his way to the edge of the balcony overlooking countless Grays. He now realised that this was no mere community. This was a nation. The Grays in the village had been homemakers and children. This was their army.

  With his Warp-improved vision, he could see armour and weapons cladding the normally feeble frames of the Gray horde.

  Molok’s large, black eyes were afire, shining despite the lack of sun. His voice sounded like it would crack under the strain of his passion, but it did not. It channelled a thousand sermons. It was only James’ imagination, but the Gray seemed to quadruple in size.

  But he wasn’t what the horde was cheering for. They were cheering for James.

  ‘The slaver-slayer, the guru and the light. Our worship, our freer, our defiance and our saviour! Grag-Po has been reborn!’

  The cry that rang out threatened to push James off his feet. But it didn’t. He didn’t waver, as much as he wanted to. The weight of leadership was crushing. To be the focus of a thousand cheers was not for the likes of him, home in the shadows. But he stood his ground. Not because he wanted to. But because he needed to. This was the solution to Nathan’s concerns. The Zonians were skilled, but there were too few. Even if they took down Dedelux, they could not withstand the Imperials. But things were different now.

  James had an army.

  “The Xank formed because the Areq could not wage war with their dwindling numbers. Humanity survived their blighting due to their lack of established Warpmancy. They were not seen as too much of a threat by the Council. The Areq, with a culture of Warpmancy, like the Edal’s, could not be allowed to survive the Fall of Resh. Only a few, the Immortals, survived by virtue of their Warpmancy. The irony that their great power led to their downfall was not lost on the Avenger and his Immortals.” – Commentary on the Founding of the Xank, Aven Smith.

  Chapter 22. Ancient Cartel

  ‘Focus your grasp. Spread it out. Put forth your tendrils and exert your power over the physical realm.’

  James listened to Krag-Zot only sparingly as he attempted to bang two pans together. While he had excelled at launching pieces of furniture at Krag-Zot in their fight on the Word Lectorate ship, he was struggling with precision control. The pans were not even that small, yet James could not get them to collide.

  His Conduit Glove still felt odd on his hand. He seldom wore it, lest someone recognise its purpose, and was not accustomed to its tight, stabbing grip. As much as he had defied the mysterious fog, he didn’t take its advice lightly. Revealing his Warpmancy bore too many dangers. Nathan feared that the Zonians wanted to wage an all-out war on Nexus. Only fear held them back. If they found out about James’ godlike abilities, they would no longer have that fear. Above that, James needed to keep the Warpmancy as a trump card, lest his enemies prepare for it.

  ‘You can practice all day, Defiant,’ Krag-Zot smirked with his under-bite fangs, ‘we have endless crystals.’

  ‘How are you getting them, by the way?’

  ‘I harvest them myself. The air is toxic for you but I have no lungs to be damaged. Whenever we need crystals, I only need to drop through a hatch, hover to the surface and scrape a few off a giant shard.’

  ‘Did you say hover? Could I do that? Could I fly with Warpmancy?’

  The prospect excited James. To be able to fly and defy gravity would be a liberating.

  ‘Not you.’

  James showed disappointment. The Areq laughed.

  ‘Don’t pout. My entire body, excluding the head, is a Conduit. I can channel Warp energy throughout myself. You are restricted to your hand. Don’t feel sad by that. If I was to have flesh again, I’d trade the power of flight a thousand times over.’

  James was hard-pressed to agree, but let the point die. Focusing on the metal-ware stubbornly refusing to make contact. He spent a while longer, both pans in mid-air, steadily missing each other on each rotation, when an incessant and sudden beep caused James to drop both.

  Krag-Zot pressed a button on his shoulder plate and then started speaking.

  ‘Yes, Smith? The boy? Yes. We’ll come now.’

  Krag-Zot pressed the button again and turned to James.

  ‘Smith wants to meet with you. Something about human Warpmancers.’

  James nodded. ‘Where?’

  ‘Human Warpmancers? Not sure.’

  ‘No, I mean, where are we going to meet?’

  ‘He’s setup in a small base at an abandoned mining depot. We can use my craft to get there.’

  They left the training room that they had set up underneath Underbelly Alpha and descended the service stairs to a platform jutting out from the gargantuan geradite column which kept this portion of Nexus above the surface.

  The icy wind chilled James. His gasmask kept his lungs safe, but his skin was still freezing. Luckily, it was warm in the shuttle. James never thought he’d ride shotgun in the same craft that had been used to carry him to the Word Lectorate ship.

  ‘How did you come to work for Aven?’ James asked, while Krag-Zot flew.

  ‘I was assigned to him. Each non-Areq Lector is assigned an Immortal to aid him and to make sure he remains loyal to the Avenger.’

  ‘So you failed? Keeping him loyal, I mean.’

  ‘Hah! The Avenger was never my lord. He was a means to an end. A uniting force to keep us Immortals in check long enough to crush the Imperials for what they did to Resh. I played along. They assigned me a human and I didn’t care much. I had my faith and as much as Smith may be puny, he can get things done.’

  That was true. James wouldn’t be surprised if the Lector was conducting five other operations and a war without his knowledge. It mattered little. He had the Lector’s loyalty. That was what counted.

  The depot was carved out of a small boulder surrounded by crystals, with a landing bay on top. A masked and suited figure was standing above the structure to wave them in.

  Upon landing, Aven rushed them into the depot. A single Krugar was in the centre of the room, working on a computer with two hands and filing documents with the others. The room was cosy, with bookshelves lining the walls and an electric heater giving off a warm-glow.

  Aven took off his mask to reveal a much more pleasant face than James remembered. He was smiling.

  ‘Well, James. Long time, no see! You’ve grown!’

  ‘It hasn’t even been a year, Aven. You do look different though. A lot more colour in your cheeks.’

  ‘You think so? I’m glad. Enthusiasm is the best medicine.’

  The Krugar snorted in agreement.

  ‘Don’t keep standing around,’ Aven ordered, motioning for James and Krag-Zot to sit, ‘Urai, tushta!’

  The Krugar stood up and with his multiple arms made his way into a side-room.

  Aven sat down and picked up a document from the coffee table, handing it to James.

  ‘I did some research as per your enquiry. I’ve compiled some information from the network as well as some documents from my informants. Human Warpmancers are rare, indeed, but it seems that there are a few. They are not nearly as powerful as
you, however, suggesting why they keep themselves secret. There are rumours on a few old sites about a group calling themselves the Shadow Cabal. The site is from fifty years ago, though. So more like a dead-end than a find. My apologies if this is not enough.’

  ‘It’s more than enough. I also wished to talk to you about something else. A little bit of light conversation, so to speak.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ Aven nodded thanks to Urai, the Krugar, as he placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the coffee table. Instead of going back to work, Urai sat on an egg-shaped chair and proceeded to drink his own cup of tea.

  James took a sip and then spoke.

  ‘Why blue?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Blue, on the flag. Black for rebellion. The cross-cuts for the Grengen symbol for defiance, but why the blue?’

  Aven looked thoughtful. ‘A passing fancy. Blue skies? Blue waves? I was born on Ganymede. We seldom had a cloud in the sky and had oceans of fresh water. That was freedom. I picked blue because I missed it and I had a chance to see it again.’

  ‘It’s caught on well enough,’ Krag-Zot chuckled.

  Aven chuckled alongside him and then added. ‘I was convinced that you were going to confront me on my nominating you as their leader.’

  James shrugged. ‘I’ve come to terms with that, for the most part. If I lead them, at least I can control what type of leader they get.’

  Krag-Zot seemed proud at that pronouncement. James smirked. He wasn’t going to let the Areq off the hook.

  ‘And you,’ James turned to Krag-Zot, ‘how do you stay unnoticed among the Zonians and on Nexus? Stealth tech, Warpmancy?’

  ‘This an interrogation?’

  James glared, non-seriously. Krag-Zot chuckled deeply.

  ‘Sneaking. People don’t expect a lumbering metal-clad Areq to sneak. So, I do it. It amuses me. I could get a stealth suit or obscure myself in gas, but that wouldn’t be as fun.’

  James couldn’t help but smile. The others were smiling as well. An Areq, a Krugar, an intergalactic spymaster and a god.

  They spoke for a long while after that. Of their homes. Of their childhoods. It wasn’t deep. It was light-hearted. Frivolous. They didn’t speak of war. There was no Ganymede Incident haunting Aven. There was no Fall of Resh. No gang wars, or Xank, or Imperials. It was about life between the violence. The friends, the adventures, the memories, the hobbies.

  James hadn’t had this much fun in a long while. Even Urai contributed to the conversation. He couldn’t speak English, so spoke through Aven. He spoke of his time in the tree cities of Lerine. He had been a weaver there. Aven hadn’t known before this and offered to acquire some material for Urai to practice his craft. The Krugar appreciated it.

  Above the fun, James felt a palpable relief. There was no pretense here. This wasn’t a forced peace. It was an honest discussion of better times, among better people.

  James’ communicator interrupted them with an abrupt beep and a subsequent buzz. Looking at the screen, he saw Marshal’s name.

  ‘Better take this.’

  Aven and the others nodded as James stood and walked to the kitchen.

  ‘Hey. Something wrong?’

  ‘No,’ Marshal answered, ‘just that you’re needed at Cargo Delta. A local gang called the Ganru want to talk. I think they’re looking for an alliance. They’re well-armed. We could use them.’

  ‘Can they be trusted?’

  ‘They seem pretty honourable. Like Nippon Samurai.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Samurai…they’re like ancient swordsmen from Earth. Really cool. I’ll find some movies on them if you want.’

  ‘Later. I’ll meet you there.’

  James walked back to the sitting area.

  ‘Krag-Zot, I need a lift to Cargo Delta. Can you drop me off?’

  He nodded. James proceeded to take a final biscuit and then wished Aven and Urai farewell.

  

  Cargo Delta was an integral part of the plan for the Defiant. It was the only energy-shielded loading dock in their possession and thus was heavily defended by the best armed of the Defiant. Most of Nathan’s Troopers guarded the area, armoured and armed with stolen equipment from the Defiant’s raids on Dedelux loyalist facilities around the planet. The Ganru would want to meet here due to it being the one port not controlled by Dedelux. That may also be the reason they wanted to throw in their lot with the Defiant. James liked gangs, with their brutal honesty, but knew that they seldom did anything out of generosity. The Ganru saw the Defiant as a means to profit. James was perfectly fine with that.

  Krag-Zot dropped him off by a service entrance, where he ascended the stairs to the hangar. At the top, he saw Marshal talking to a group of smartly dressed men with slanted eyes and dark hair. Standing off to the side, speaking to Yobu, were Leroy and Grugo.

  ‘Captain!’ Leroy and Grugo said in unison.

  Both wore matching jackets. White pseudo-leather with a red circle on the back. James noticed that the Ganru not wearing business suits also wore similar jackets. James’ enhanced senses allowed him to notice that each guard was concealing a pistol and a knife. James did not fear an assassination or ambush. Zona Nox was known for concealed and open carry. Zarxian law necessitated the former.

  ‘Leroy, Grugo – I’m glad to see you! I feared that you were caught up in the pogroms,’ James’ concern was genuine. Grugo had grown on him during their escapade on Zona Nox and Leroy was always agreeable, especially seeing they had been members of the same gang.

  ‘We’ve been off-world,’ Leroy replied. ‘Found a job to get off this ice rock. Jobs a lot like working with Marzio.’

  ‘Not a bit like the Zenites. A lot more professional,’ Grugo added.

  A clearing of the throat interrupted them and Grugo and Leroy gave way to a short middle-aged man with a walking cane.

  ‘Apologies, Kumichō-sama,’ Leroy said with a bow, Grugo following suit.

  Kumichō waved them away and proceeded to James. His face was stern and smooth. The only wrinkles were the worry lines creasing his forehead. He had a thin moustache flanking either side of his mouth like wisps of smoke. His cane bore the carved head of a Sylith. He stopped, wordlessly, in front of James and stood. A guard nearby swiftly ran up to him and retrieved his cane. With creaky, pained movements, Kumichō bent his back and bowed. He wasn’t that old, so James presumed he was suffering from an injury.

  ‘It is an honour to finally meet the Defiant.’

  ‘Likewise, for one of my old profession,’ James replied, bowing back.

  Standing straight, Kumichō accepted back his cane.

  ‘I heard from Grugo-san and Leroy-san that you were once a conductor of the illicit. I am glad. It means we can speak to each other plainly.’

  James nodded, relieved. Kumichō was a kindred spirit. A professional criminal. It had been awhile since James had been involved in crime, but he still understood the mind-set.

  ‘My organisation, the Ganru, are different from your Zenites and Marzios on Galis. We are outlaws, yes, but we conduct our business in accordance with a strict doctrine handed down through thousands of years. On our homeworld, Sekai, we are the traditional leaders of those with common ancestry to ancient Nippon. Otherwise, we’re a syndicate conducting business despite the law. Typically, we engage in activities you may be familiar with – protection, smuggling, racketeering. Nexus’ situation gave us an interesting opportunity. The people here are starved for freedom and the bloated corrupt administration continues to tighten restrictions until all semblance of the human spirit is crushed.

  ‘There’s where we come in. The Ganru provide protection. Not from criminals but from so-called enforcers of the law. We allow businesses to function freely. We smuggle in goods that people desire. We fulfil the wants that dictatorship disallows.’

  ‘So Dedelux has been profitable for the Ganru?’

  ‘Undoubtedly. Yet he has also been costly. The Ganru don’t exist solely for our own profit. We exi
st to aid Sekai. All our income goes into aiding the diaspora and uplifting our new desired homeworld. Dedelux doesn’t stop our activities on the planet. He sees them as a necessary means to maintain happiness while retaining his authoritarian demeanour. He does, however, stop our shipments from leaving the planet. Our profits on Nova Zarxa are all for nought now that we are trapped here. We are rich, but without our homes. It would be logical for the professional crook to oppose the one who removes their means of profit, but we’re more than just a gang. We’re seeking to aid our people.’

  ‘That is why we met here, then? You need a hangar that Dedelux has no influence over.’

  ‘More than that. Nexus has no dedicated starport. It relies on a myriad of satellite ships for out of system warp travel. Dedelux has dedicated guards eliminating all non-loyal vessels trying to reach these ships. We cannot leave the planet, let alone bring our profits to Sekai. The Defiant, your army, may be our only means of getting home.’

  ‘What do you propose?’

  ‘An alliance. Simple as that. We have the firepower. We have connections. We don’t have an army. My intelligence suggests that the Zonian refugees are not your only forces. There are some mountains on Nova Zarxa suspiciously receiving a lot of traffic recently.’

  ‘It’s no secret, Kumichō-sama…’

  ‘Call me Kota,’ Kumichō interjected, ‘we’re equals.’

  James nodded in respect.

  ‘Then call me James. The existence of the Grays is not being kept a secret among enemies of Dedelux and I trust in your sincerity and honour. The Defiant are, indeed, amassing an army to rival Dedelux’s control of the planet. The Troopers are tied up with multiple Xank attacks on the human republics and a Squogg assault on a frontier Askaia. They don’t have the resources or the inkling to overthrow the traitor Dedelux. Thus, we have to do it for them.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that, though, isn’t there?’

  Despite his weathered gait, Kota was astute. His gaze pierced James’ withheld information.