Jason continued to stare at the obelisk. They’d need to take care—not let anything happen to this.
Turning, he saw Boomer as she approached the nearby fungus. With short swiping motions of her enhancement shield, she began eradicating the carnivorous plant. It looked to be a slow, methodical process. The other three, after donning their enhancement shields, joined in to assist her. Boomer told Mollie she was doing it all wrong. He left them to it.
Ricket, continuing to work on the board in front of him, said, “I have discovered several things. She is an impressive craft, Captain.”
“He just wants to know about the key.” Bristol pointed a long finger toward the obelisk. “There you go, Captain. Every multiverse jump this ship has ever made is recorded in there. We can access that information. While the Parcical could store similar information on a near-microscopic tab, this older vessel requires that big hunk of stone.”
Bristol let out an exasperated breath as he held two fingers up to his ear. “Hold on a second, Captain.
“What? No, I’m busy,” he said to whomever he was talking to over his NanoCom. “Fine … I’m on my way.” Bringing his hand down, he looked over at Jason. “I need to pop over to the bridge. Our two incompetent pilots, Sergeant Major Gail Stone and Lieutenant Julie Polly, are trying to make heads or tails of the Jumelle’s bridge. Seems it’s unique … was how it was described. Anyway, I’ll be back later.” Bristol activated his battle suit and phase-shifted away.
Jason had given up trying to instill the importance of asking permission first before taking action on his own, such as what just occurred, but that had been a futile exercise. One of Bristol’s little quirks Jason had learned to live with. He brought his attention back to Ricket.
Ricket, finished tapping at the console board, turned to face Jason. “The Caldurians are particular about which of their vessels have the capability to cross over to other multiverse realms. Although vessels such as Master Class ships or the newer Rogue Class ships … like the Parcical … have this capability, I have yet to discover in them what I found stored in this obelisk … a detailed referencing of thousands of multiverse realms. I remember Granger telling me there were few things more guarded by the Caldurians than the virtual map, if you will, which allows one to travel throughout the realms at will. The obelisk holds the unique capability to reference exactly where it is in relationship to infinite destinations within the multiverse. The Lilly also provided this … but not the Parcical, nor the Minian, nor the other Master Class vessels that make up Star Watch. I believe certain rare vessels, such as the Jumelle, are very few within Caldurian fleets. Probably few Caldurians have had access to this kind of information. I’m sure there’s a good reason for that.” He shrugged. “The simple fact that we discovered this device, and the information held within it, is quite amazing. I must speak with the Drapple as time permits.”
The voice that seemed to emanate throughout the compartment was deep and refined, “And I thank you, little Craing being, for that excellent explanation!”
Startled, the resonating voice was familiar to Jason. The sudden appearance of the tall being—dressed similar to others he’d gone up against, including Lord Vikor Shakrim—was shocking. His breastplate glowed blue and he wore a long blue cloak. But this wasn’t a Sahhrain warrior come back from the dead. Jason knew, beyond any doubt, he was standing a mere ten feet away from Rom Dasticon himself.
Chapter 54
Fringe of the Dacci Star System
150 feet below Endromoline’s surface
The Jumelle
__________________________
Jason’s attempt to reach for his SuitPac device was thwarted by a bone-crushing blow of distortion waves, which propelled him off his feet and threw him twenty feet away and onto the deck. He landed hard and awkwardly on his neck and upper shoulders. He looked up in time to see Ricket airborne, soaring by over his head. Wide-eyed, Ricket looked scared and vulnerable. He was also on fire.
It was then Jason realized how badly he himself was hurt. The upper part of his spacer’s jumpsuit was gone and the flesh on his arms and chest were charred with a layer of blackened crust. As the intense agony from nearly being barbequed alive took hold, he found it difficult to breathe, to move—even to think. He wanted to help Ricket and looked around for him.
* * *
Being a Tahli warrior—trained in the ancient arts of Kahill Callan, not to mention becoming the Goldwon—Boomer’s senses were so highly tuned she reacted to danger at subconscious levels. Even before she was consciously aware of Rom Dasticon’s presence she was already moving. She swiped her enhancement shield downward and propelled herself up as high as the compartment’s overhead bulkhead would allow. Tucking her body into a tight backflip, she landed softly on top of the next-level up catwalk above her. Her eyes tracked on a flying fiery ball below. Oh God … Ricket.
Using her shield again, Boomer propelled herself toward the end of the walkway. Looking down, she saw Rom Dasticon, standing on the deck with his hands on hips, staring up at the tall mounted stone. Boomer, conjuring up everything she’d learned and experienced over the last seven years—her amassed abilities as an accomplished Tahli warrior and what it took to become the Goldwon—shot scarlet distortion waves toward Dasticon’s broad back.
He was gone—like an evaporating mist—before the destructive power of her attack could hit its mark. Instead, Boomer watched as the obelisk burst into a maelstrom of a million tiny flaring sparks. Oops!
“No! … no! … no!” came his thunderous voice. Rom Dasticon suddenly appeared next to her, atop the catwalk—his eyes full of fury and hatred. He momentarily glanced back at the now-destroyed stone, then back to Boomer. She didn’t know what the hubbub was all about with the obelisk—but she did know its destruction could work in her favor.
She cartwheeled to her left. In mid-air, she fired off another volley of scarlet distortion waves. The ancient, all-powerful Sachem was so consumed with the fiery obelisk that Boomer caught him off-guard. As she tumbled into a tight roll onto the deck below, she glimpsed Dasticon still above her. His cloak was on fire, his left leg partially singed. Ever transforming—he was currently very old—bent over—the weight of untold centuries behind him. Rom Dasticon’s withered face looked down at her with … what was that expression? Respect? Admiration?
And then the old, decrepit-looking, warrior was gone. Moving with amazing speed now—again the young virile combatant from moments before—he back flipped once, twice, thrice, landing atop another catwalk across the compartment. Coming from below, multiple, separate, electrified streams of bright distortion waves tracked his movements. Drom, Jarial, and Mollie had joined the fight. Momentarily, her heart filled with emotion. The same three were the only ones still remaining after setting off with her to retrieve the three effigies, then traveling together to that hellish multiverse realm. It seemed only fitting that they were here now to combat Dasticon along with her.
Boomer dropped to the deck below, hurrying and passing three rows of towering hold containers. Perhaps she could surprise him once again—sneak up from behind. Billy and his team of Sharks were fully engaged at this point, firing a relentless barrage of multi-gun plasma fire toward Dasticon. To her surprise, the Sachem was wearing a Glist enhancement shield on his left forearm. Had it always been there? she wondered.
Boomer suddenly halted—paralyzed from taking another step or another breath of air. Her father, his back up against a bulkhead, looked little more than a blackened, scorched husk of a man. Miraculously, he waved her on—his words tight with pain. “It’s better than it looks … nanites are kicking in, I think.” She saw him reach a relatively undamaged hand to his belt and activate his SuitPac. A moment later, he gave her a shaky thumbs up: “Go get ’em, girl … get that son of a bitch.”
Ready to do just that, she saw Ricket’s, unmoving, nearly unrecognizable, form lying on the deck. Sickened and saddened, she found it nearly impossible to see past the blur of tears fi
lling her eyes. Activating her battle suit, she waited for her HUD to come alive, where, finding Ricket’s life-icon, she was ever so grateful to see he was, albeit barely, still alive. She configured her HUD and, in a white flash, phase-shifted Ricket directly into Medical, where it would be up to Dira to get him into a MediPod.
Flashing back to the catwalk above, Boomer, continuing on to the next row of tall storage containers, could see Dasticon still holding the high ground there—but why? The amount of plasma and distortion wave fire toward him was enormous, although, granted, he was more than holding his own. Three of Billy’s Sharks were down, including Hayes and Tops. Dasticon could be gone in the blink of an eye, so why, she wondered, was he still sticking around here, enduring this onslaught?
As Boomer moved closer—coming around the end of the row—nearing where Dasticon was standing above on the catwalk—she saw what he was doing. Those lying on the deck that weren’t either dead or dying were being methodically herded to the far back corner of the compartment. Dasticon, above, was moving with grace and fluidity. He was also winning.
Staying behind Dasticon’s field of vision, Boomer was able to briefly catch sight of Mollie and Billy, plus two remaining Sharks. Tensing, watching Mollie awkwardly use her enhancement shield, Boomer knew she needed to get her out of there—get her to safety. As she did with Ricket only moments before, Boomer phase-shifted her into Medical. Mollie was going to be furious—furious but alive. Boomer allowed herself a brief smile and phase-shifted back.
Looking behind her, she caught Billy’s eye. His strained voice, coming over the open NanoCom channel, said, “If you’re going to do something, it better be now.” He back-stepped, firing upward. “My suit … all our suits … are just about drained. Not enough power left to phase-shift out of here. Shields are down … weapons are draining fast, too.”
She’d noticed that his, and the other Sharks’, return fire was limited to short plasma bursts. Dasticon blocked them away as if it were child’s play. She had already come to the determination that her abilities were no match for Dasticon’s. Never before had she come up against an adversary such as him. Glancing up, she could see he was exerting little effort now. Smiling, he strode atop his perch with arrogant authority.
Boomer did a quick mental calculation—who was left on board the Jumelle who could help them? Traveler was back in HAB 17. Perhaps it had been a mistake to send Mollie away … there weren’t many others on board. There were the two pilots—Polly and Stone; there was Dira in Medical. Reassessing, she realized, hell, if she, Drom and Jarial, and the Sharks couldn’t get the job done, Dasticon would cut any of those others down with a wave of his hand. No, if she couldn’t defeat him here and now, all would be lost. Her heart sank.
She retracted her battle suit and, taking a deep breath, used her shield to propel herself up onto the catwalk, fifteen feet behind Dasticon.
He glanced back, while deflecting plasma fire coming from below. Apparently, he didn’t even need to look in Billy’s direction to block his fire.
Boomer held her two palms in the air in a gesture of mock surrender. “Hey … I have a question for you, well … maybe a couple of questions.”
He eyed her suspiciously then turned his attention back to Billy and the two remaining Sharks firing up at him. With an exaggerated swipe of his hand, Billy and the Sharks’ weapons flew from their grasps and clanged loudly when they hit something metallic on the far side of the compartment. As if coming to another decision, he swiped again. Billy and his Sharks were thrown hard against the closest bulkhead, where they remained still.
Mollie, out of breath, re-entered the hold compartment from the corridor hatchway. Multi-gun raised—she was wearing a fresh battle suit and had an enhancement shield affixed to her forearm. Boomer had just enough time to make eye contact with her and see her angry expression. Seeing her too, Dasticon swiped her backwards out of the hold compartment. Boomer cringed as she heard the clattering of a body being thrown hard against a bulkhead.
Boomer’s breath caught in her chest. Had she just witnessed Mollie’s as well as Billy’s death? He turned to face her—her stare met his. In that moment, she knew she was gazing into the eyes of someone truly evil.
“Why bother with us? You obviously can destroy us … any of us … with a simple wave of a hand.” She glanced down at one of the lifeless forms on the deck below. “Doesn’t an important deity—a proclaimed god such as yourself … have more important things to do?”
He seemed to contemplate her words with disgust. While doing so, he allowed his image to transform again. Now, standing before her, was the old Sahhrain warrior—bent and withered. “You have no idea what you have done … do you?” he asked.
Boomer shrugged. “Not really. I’ve seen the slabs, studied them for over five years, when I was a Tahli warrior student on Harpaign … those sacred tablets … the ancient Dacci writings. You, who can move between universe realms as easily as we mortals do when walking through an open doorway, bring tyranny and misery everywhere you go. So why are you here … like right now? Is it that wrecked obelisk-thing over there? It’s pretty important to you. Or was,” she said, adding the dig.
“Important? Important! Is that how you describe it, stupid child?” Rom Dasticon spat, his spittle spraying into the air as he yelled the words. “That obelisk-thing, as you put it, was my only conduit … my lifeline … to access the far reaches of the multiverse. For five hundred years I moved freely between universes. Yes … I was like a god, a deity. I was revered!”
A voice came from below. “You were feared, not revered, Dasticon. There’s a big difference.”
Boomer saw her father, standing below them on the deck, wearing a battle suit. She knew he was in pain—probably found it hard to stand.
Dasticon’s eyes stayed on her father for several long moments, before he transformed again into a young, virile warrior. He looked back to Boomer. “For thousands of years I was trapped in that revolting hell of a world … where we last met.”
“Wait! You were trapped? Who by? Who would have the power to …” Boomer let her words fall silent as the answer came to her. Smiling, she said, “Oh my! Tahli, the Master of Kahill Callan … thousands of years ago … he was your master!”
Dasticon stared back at her. His silence only confirmed what she’d just said.
“Yes, like you, Boomer, I was a student of Master Tahli. Two thousand years ago I was his friend and protégé as well. He was far more powerful than anyone ever knew. It was Tahli who discovered, with the assistance of alien Drapple technology, how to traverse the multiverse.” Dasticon gestured toward the still-smoldering obelisk. “His pathetic mission was to advance the scope of Kahill Callan martial arts; to practice using his extraordinary, newly gained powers, which enabled him to bring the diverse physics of other realms into his teachings. Then bring them back home to Dacci … to his students. Fortunately, I was one of the very few he shared such secrets with.”
Boomer made eye contact with her father. Jason, shaking his head, said, “So let me guess, you too became powerful. You learned to use that alien technology, but your motives were self-serving. Two thousand years ago you, the student, became even more powerful than the teacher.”
Boomer continued, “Like Master Tahli, you learned that traveling the multiverse made you virtually immortal. And your powers only increased. Since Master Tahli could no longer defeat you in battle, he had to somehow outsmart you instead. It took five hundred years, but eventually he found a way to separate you from that obelisk over there and maroon you on that little world in that other realm. Am I close?”
Dasticon shrugged. “Very good … an almost perfect accounting. Master Tahli also knew that eventually I would find a way back home to Dacci. And that I would have my revenge. It would only be a matter of time.”
Boomer said, “Ah, so it was Master Tahli who created the effigies … the games. Elaborate trials set on multiple Dacci worlds—Clorvious Noles, Draggim, and the like. All in
an attempt to single out the one student who could … eventually … be sent to defeat you.”
Dasticon looked amused. With a patronizing tone, he said, “And, after two millennia, you are the result. Are you the very best—the Goldwon who will defeat me?”
The truth was, Boomer felt more than inadequate for the task. Had it all been a colossal waste of time? In the end, Dasticon had indeed prevailed—had found a way home by outsmarting the same won sent to defeat him.
“I came so close … so very close,” Dasticon continued, “first with Vikor, then with Zintar Shakrim, my influenced lord disciples … my little puppets. But the two of you … your father and you … destroyed them. All that time and effort for naught, gone! I will make you both suffer.”
“I’m still confused,” Boomer said, somewhat surprised Dasticon was still engaging her in conversation. “So, what was that obelisk to you … anyway?”
“Space travel has been around for as long as there has been intelligent life within the cosmos. Same for traveling into multiverse realms. The problem has always been finding one’s way back home. That one-of-a-kind piece of technology was my multiverse reference device. How it ended up in the hands of the Caldurians and here on this vessel, instead of where it was supposed to be left waiting … for you, at the end of the trials … the Tahli warrior sent to defeat me, I do not know. I do not care. I knew if I followed you … you would lead me to it. But enough talk! It is time for you to die … both of you.”
Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4) Page 30
