Hatchling

by Chris Fox

  “Save it unless we’re getting overrun,” I gave back immediately. “We’ve got two more decks to get through.”

  I glanced behind me to see how Rava and Briff were doing. A new wave of Inurans were approaching, though they were obscured by the heavy smoke that the scrubbers were working overtime to deal with.

  Something flashed in the darkness, and a grenade sailed into our ranks. I didn’t even have time to panic, though.

  Because my sister caught it.

  Rava leapt up into the air, snatched the grenade in her free hand, and then whipped it back up the corridor at the sender. It bounced three times, then there was another explosion and then no more Inurans on that side.

  “Yeah, you’re definitely getting a raise.” I clapped my sister on her heavily armored back. “I wish Dad had seen that. He’d have loved it.”

  She glanced back at me with a threadbare smile, and clapped me on the forearm. “With an op like this, I might get to tell him myself by the end of the day.”

  “Just hold the corridor. I’m going to check in with Cinaka.” I rose and trotted back toward Vee and Kurz. They’d hold position at the rear of the hatchlings, where Vee was still patching wounds.

  It worried me that Inurans were willing to toss grenades in their own ship. You didn’t do that if you worried about it puncturing the hull, and while the deck had been damaged, the wiring underneath was still intact. How tough was this ship?

  Not my problem yet. I needed to secure our drop point first.

  I realized there was no sign of Seket, and glanced up the corridor to see where he’d gotten to. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  The paladin had charged past the hatchlings, and engaged a trio of white-armored figures in melee. A grenade landed at his feet, but instead of running, Seket snapped down his spellshield and used it to direct the blast.

  Fire and shrapnel enveloped his opponents, and flung all three into the bulkhead like discarded cans. None rose.

  Cinaka and several other hatchlings fired over Seket’s head, and took down the next wave of Inurans that were on approach. I glanced behind them, but it looked like there were no more enemies. The last few stragglers were running.

  “I think we did it,” I called into the comm. “Let’s get sentries up. Lawl, your people can come in and start working on the deck. We’re going to need to be quick. They probably have teams on the next level that they’ll dispatch to our location.”

  This hadn’t been “easy”, but it was still too easy for my liking. The hard part was yet to come. Right now this was the Inurans bleeding our mages of spells so we would be dry for the final fight.

  They, on the other hand, probably had mana beer, so they could keep fighting long after our side ran dry.

  I only hoped that the deck would be easy to cut through.

  Spoilers, it wasn’t.

  29

  A dozen arachnidrakes cradled their staves in scaly hands as they moved into a tight circle behind the protective eye of our hatchlings. I studied their ritual, which I understood in theory, but had never seen cast. There’d been a rituals class back at the academy, but I think I’d taken a music class instead, because that’s how I thought you impressed merc women.

  Ah, younger Jerek. Even more naive and inexperienced than current Jerek.

  The drakes raised their staves and all began chanting. I expected sigils, as I used when hardcasting a spell, but there was none of that. Just a low sonorous chant, with a single word that went on and on, “Ohhhmmmmmmmmm.”

  I’d been taught that magic can come in virtually any form, but this was the first time I’d encountered a style so different from that used at the academy. A ritual is the intertwining of multiple casters performing the same spell. That much was the same. How they added magic, though, I didn’t even recognize.

  The effects were immediate. Each arachnidrake raised a staff, and those staves had a gem set near the tip, which began to glow a bright crimson as the chant deepened.

  A beam radiated from each, stabbing down into the deck like the wrath of eight angry stars. Those beams converged on a single point near the center, and the heat rolled off, so hot that it raised the ambient temperature twenty degrees almost instantly.

  I expected the deck to redden and melt under the weight of that magical onslaught. The strength of it was immense, and all focused on a tiny section of the deck.

  After several seconds, and another fifty degrees, enough to cook an unarmored person, the deck finally reddened. Slightly.

  My grip tightened on my pistol, and I wished I knew enough about the metal we were melting to understand how long it would take. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. There was still no real change in the deck, though a meter of it now glowed a faint orange.

  “This isn’t feasible,” I decided over the comm. “They’re going to get reinforcements up here long before we get through that deck.”

  “A tactical withdrawal then?” Kurz’s voice came back, flat and emotionless.

  “No.” I paced back and forth like a caged animal. There had to be an answer. “Seket, you’re familiar with teleportation disks, right?”

  “I am.” Even the bastard’s voice was beautiful. “What do you wish to know, Captain?”

  “What is the maximum range of the teleport?” I called up a cutaway of the Inuran ship and glanced at our target.

  “I wouldn’t push it beyond thirty meters,” the paladin cautioned. I glanced down the corridor and spotted him standing near Cinaka and her hatchings, his blade still glowing with magic. “You’re considering porting down another level?”

  “That’s the idea, yeah.” I wished I had some way to see how many defenders….

  The deck dissolved, in my vision at least. I was staring down at the next level, and the half dozen Inuran defenders divided into two groups of three. Both had set up overwatch positions, and were ready to hit anyone coming through the deck above them.

  I wasn’t a fan of the madness, but I had to admit the new magic was pretty over-powered. There were so many uses.

  “Looks like they’re waiting for us.” I drew my pistol again and cradled it in both hands. “There are six defenders, two squads, thirty meters apart. Seket, Cinaka, and Briff, you’re up first. Rava, myself, and Vee next. Vee, get up a ward as soon as you arrive. Then Kurz and Cinaka’s people. Let’s move. We need to get everyone out of here before the Inuran reinforcements arrive.”

  “Concentrate on the disk,” Seket instructed. “It will remember you from the first teleport.”

  For a moment I worried if I’d be ready at the right time. How would I know when the first wave had arrived? But my new ability, which needed a name, allowed me to see them appear below.

  Even as I willed the teleportation disk to move me down to join them, I saw combat begin. All six Inurans were waiting, and launched a withering barrage of death. Now, I know I’ve been rather disparaging of Seket, but that paladin is damned useful in a firefight.

  A beautiful golden ward spun up around Cinaka and Briff, and blunted the Inuran offensive. Briff breathed on one Inuran, and caught the mage in the chest with a wave of plasma that carried into into the wall and set him aflame. Nuclear flame.

  Cinaka raised her rifle and calmly headshot her first target, then blew off the last one’s knee.

  Vertigo seized me as the disk moved me down to join my team, and as I arrived I spun to face the remaining trio. My pistol snapped up almost of her own accord, but I didn’t aim her at any of the three armored mages.

  Instead, I focused on the deck in front of them. Magic is malleable, and smart mages can invent spells on the fly, provided we understand the magical theory behind them. You’re kind of like a chef with a set of ingredients, and you can cook dishes with whatever proportions you want.

  Void is great for teleportation, disintegrating things, and influencing gravity. I’d used gravity to make things heavier. Why not make things lighter? Why not remove gravity entirely?

  Magic surged in
my chest, and flowed down my arms into the pistol. The barrel filled with a glow that could have been mistaken for a void bolt. Even the spell I fired looked like a poorly aimed attack, as the cracking purple ball splashed into the deck at the foot of the central target.

  One of them barked a harsh mocking laugh. The karma was instant. All three armored figures abruptly floated into the air, their arms windmilling as they sought to control their movements.

  Rava appeared in my peripheral vision, and my sister snapped her rifle to her shoulder, the stock set against a pad sewn into her leather jacket. “You shouldn’t have, little brother.” She walked her rifle down all three Inurans, and fired three precise shots at each. One in the head, two in the chest.

  The explosive rounds shattered the armor, and sent a wave of shrapnel into the pilots. All three stopped moving, and a few seconds later my spell ended.

  Kurz and a pair of hatchlings appeared behind me, then another wave a few seconds later. The process would take several agonizing minutes, and I had no idea when the response team would arrive on the deck we were abandoning.

  I glanced down a level, through the deck, and saw no defenders waiting on the level above the bridge. I tried peering further, but a spike of pain shot between my temples when I attempted to see the bridge itself. Some sort of ward, I guessed.

  “We are under assault,” a coarse hatchling voice hissed over the comm. “The Inurans have arrived on the first level. We cannot endure.”

  I glanced up through the deck with my fire sight and the blood drained from my face. Inuran assault squads were hitting both flanks, and there were only a few hatchling defenders left. The arachidrakes had abandoned their ritual, and were joining the assault, but it wasn’t enough.

  A wave of grenades detonated, then a hail of life bolts followed. My people were getting cut down, and the problem grew even worse as another wave teleported out, weakening the defenders.

  Lawl raised her staff and lobbed a blue fireball into one Inuran flank, and the resulting explosion killed a dozen opponents. The remaining Inurans unleashed their assault from the opposite flank, and Lawl went down with a pained shriek as a half dozen life bolts sizzled into her back.

  More grenades landed, and I forced myself to look away as the deck above us rumbled. “This is everyone who made it.”

  A ragged score of survivors stared back at me. Their armor was blackened and damaged, though thanks to Vee, everyone was still on their feet.

  “Captain,” Cinaka called as she approached. “I recommend a tactical withdrawal. If we couldn’t get through the deck above with the drakes, then there is no way we can do it without them.”

  “I agree.” I suppressed a sigh that I hoped no one heard. “We can’t proceed with this few people. Reverse order. If you just arrived, you’re the first out. Get back to the Remora. We’re getting out of here.”

  “War-leader,” one of the hatchlings called. The nervousness in his voice added to the bile in my gut. “We are unable to teleport for some reason.”

  “We’ve been cut off,” Kurz said, his voice just as emotionless. “The Inurans have erected wards on the outer hull to stop us. They let us inside. It was a trap.”

  30

  I don’t know how long I stood there frozen. My hands shook, and every bit of moisture in my mouth deserted along with my courage. We were cut off, outnumbered, and most definitely outgunned. I’d led my team into a slaughter, just like my father had once done. Overconfidence ran in the family.

  “Does anyone have any ideas?” I managed. I cleared my throat, and spoke again with more strength. “We need a plan.”

  “Maybe we make for a shuttle?” Vee suggested. She rose from tending to a wound on a hatchling’s thick leg. “If we can steal one, then maybe we can get back aboard the Remora, and try to get out of here.”

  “Can’t, church girl,” my sister countered. I was surprised by the vehemence. She and Vee weren’t close, but I couldn’t think of a reason for any hostility between them. I chalked it up to stress. “We wouldn’t survive getting to the pods, but even if we did…this cruiser is five times our size. They’ll blow us out of the sky long before we can make it back to the Word of Xal, and as I understand it that ship’s being taken by them too. Face it. We lost.”

  I tried blinking down a level, but of course the deck below us was warded as well. Nothing. We’d have to move on foot, and the Inurans no doubt had both routes covered. We were herded into one of two deathtraps, our choice. It was a nonstarter.

  “Seket,” I called, and strode over to the paladin. “You prayed to Inura before. Your god granted you a miracle, right? Can you pray for help?”

  “It doesn’t work that way.” Seket removed his helmet, then flicked sweat from his brow. “Inura is no doubt inundated with prayers, and cannot aid any one worshipper. I am granted specific power, and I have used that power for the day.”

  “Vee? Kurz?” I asked. If they didn’t have an idea I wasn’t sure where to look next.

  “I’m sorry, Captain.” Kurz heaved a resigned sigh. “We are unlikely to survive. It is an ignoble end after we have come so far.”

  Briff straightened and flared his wings. “At least we can make them pay for it. Let’s try to kill as many as we can.”

  “He’s right,” I decided. “Let’s get whatever defenses we can set up. Strip the dead, and pile the bodies as cover. Kurz, if it looks like we’re going to be overrun, then break the urn. We may not survive, but we’re taking these bastards with us.”

  Despite my bravado, my stomach was a war zone, and my mouth was a desert. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want my people to die. What choice was there? Would a run to the escape pods be the best choice? They had to expect that, and have contingencies in place as they had for everything else.

  How did you teleport past wards? Only…a goddess…could do that.

  I blinked a few times and a desperate plan began to come together. My knowledge of religion was iffy, but as I understood it, intent mattered. If I prayed to a god or goddess, then they should hear it. I hoped. Normally they might be too busy to answer, but the goddess I had in mind had just spoken to me twenty minutes ago.

  “Xal’Nara, demon princess,” I intoned, my hands clasped together. “I call upon you to save my ass in a godlike fashion. Please, save us—”

  “I told you I couldn’t intervene.” And there she was, Nara in all her glory and beauty, though there was no sign of her rifle. She hadn’t come to fight. She wore no helmet. “I’m sorry, Jerek. I wish I could do something. I do. I’d love to see Jolene punished, and it kills me that she might acquire the Word of Xal. I can think of few things worse. But my hands are tied. I cannot help you without triggering a sector-wide war.”

  “You’re a goddess,” I plowed on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Can’t you grant miracles? I’ve seen both Vee and Seket use them. They pray to Inura. If I pray to you will you disintegrate the levels between us and the bridge?”

  “Jerek!” Vee stalked up to me, her face a twisted caricature of itself as she glared hatefully at Nara. The words were directed at me. “You don’t know what you’re asking. If you make a deal with a demon she’ll forever own a piece of your soul. When you die…you will go to her.”

  “That’s not necessarily true,” Kurz countered quietly. “If it were, there would be no reason for soulcatchers. There’s a chance, especially for strong souls, that you will journey to a god you pray to when you die.”

  “That isn’t how it works anyway.” Nara’s tone was laced with annoyance. “You’d have to take a covenant. A magical bargain. If you adhered to my dictates, then I would grant you a miracle. If you proved yourself I might grant more, over time.”

  “Okay.” I folded my arms, and asked the hard question. “Exactly what does this covenant entail?”

  “I ask two things. Deny either, and our covenant is broken.” She folded her arms to mirror me. “First, I require that you preserve knowledge. If you discover it, and it is in your pow
er to do so, then you must bring that knowledge back to the sector rather than allowing it to be destroyed.”

  I blinked at her. She was asking me to do something I already did. “And the second dictate?”

  “I’m getting there.” She uncrossed her arms, and her eyes hardened. “When your power increases to a point where you are no longer mortal you must make a pilgrimage to Xal to meet with me.”

  “She’s asking you to go to the heart of demon power.” Vee stepped protectively up next to me. “If you make this deal, then what comes back won’t be Jerek.”

  “Maybe,” I allowed, “but if I don’t take this deal, then none of us live to find out anyway. Nara, if I take this covenant can you grant me a miracle that will allow me to get through the deck?”

  “I can.” She nodded. “The miracle is called weaken. If used on the deck it will make it brittle enough to break through. If used against an armored opponent it will dramatically lower their defenses.”

  I considered what she was asking of me. The first dictate was effectively meaningless, no ask at all. The second was a bit of a mystery. If I survived long enough to become a demigod, then I’d be asked to journey to the stronghold of demonkind.

  Every myth and holo said that I wouldn’t return, and I wondered if Nara harvested the people who came to her. It didn’t seem to fit her, though what did I really know about her beyond a few conversations?

  I hated that I had to make this decision without all the facts. If I accepted I had no doubt there’d be consequences, but I couldn’t see any compelling reason not to take the deal.

  “I accept your covenant,” I decided, and felt right about the decision. “Tell me what I must do.”

  “Put your hand up, palm outward.” Nara raised her own hand, and I pressed my palm against hers. “Do you swear to protect and defend knowledge, and to undertake a pilgrimage to Xal when your divinity exceeds your mortality?”