Dragon Invasion
Mystically Engineered
Book 1
Craig Martelle & Valerie Emerson
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Copyright © 2019 by Craig Martelle & Valerie Emerson
All rights reserved.
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Mystically Engineered (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds)
are Copyright (c) 2019 by Craig Martelle & Valerie Emerson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Craig Martelle
Version 1.0
Cover by Tom Edwards (tomedwardsdesign.com)
Typography & Formatting by James Baldwin (jamesosiris.com)
Editing by Joe Martin
We couldn’t do what we do without the support of great people around us. We thank our spouses and our families for giving us time alone to think, write, and review. We thank our editor, cover artist, executive assistant (James), and insider team of beta readers (Micky Cocker, Kelly O’Donnell, Dr. James Caplan, and John Ashmore). It’s not who we are as authors, but who we are surrounded by that makes this all happen. Enjoy the story.
CHAPTER ONE
E.F.S. Side Liner was one of the finest of Earth Fleet’s vessels. Every inch of the exploration spaceship’s hull was polished as if it rolled off the assembly line only days before. The interior matched the outside, from its sharply dressed crew to gleaming decks.
After weeks of exploration, Mystic First Class Dante knew the ship well. He was too restless to stay in his bunk, but he knew the crew wouldn’t welcome his company. He passed the time by walking the halls and people-watching in the ship’s galley. His duties were few until they reached their destination.
He stood at a view screen in the crowded galley. Normally it displayed the star field as if it were a window in the hull. At the moment he was using it to track their progress through the Cavey System. He traced a circle around the wormhole that had carried them here from civilized space, and the mothership that carried their ship safely through the hole in space and time. From there, he drew a line to the planet Cavey, their target.
It had taken three weeks to travel from Earth to a system thousands of light years away. Mankind could get anywhere in the galaxy through the wormholes, if they found the right path. The faster runabouts could travel from one wormhole to another in a matter of weeks, but they’d be torn apart without a mothership’s protection. On one level, he knew that space travel on this scale was nearly miraculous. On another, he regretted the length of the trip, especially when he didn’t have another Mystic to talk to.
He switched the view to outside, where the stars hung like bright jewels in an endless black sea. Many of those stars would have inhabitable planets. More would not. Yet each of them had a unique beauty that was deeper than Side Liner’s crew realized. There was another world beyond their sight, one that only Dante and the precious few Mystics could enter.
The Astral Plane. The thought of it pulled at him, no matter how often he left his body to explore that other realm. There, he had extrasensory perception that let him survey a planet without setting foot on its surface. He could manipulate the ether, the material that made up the Astral Plane, and to an extent, reality. As the most powerful Mystic alive, it was intoxicating.
He expected there wouldn’t be dragons otherwise the powers that be wouldn’t have sent him by himself. Dragons were too powerful to handle alone. The normals, those without Mystic ability, didn’t believe in dragons because they couldn’t see them. Dragons only existed on the Astral Plane. But Mystics knew.
A dragon was powerful enough to affect things in the physical world while the creature remained completely within the Astral Plane. They could cause crop failures, mechanical malfunctions, and electronic failures. They could push humans' psyches toward negative overload - any mental weaknesses were magnified a hundredfold.
The combination of food shortages, constant mechanical problems, and negative emotions meant that a hostile dragon could easily cause the failure of a new colony. A dragon could threaten a spaceship because of its ability to cause technical failures.
Human colonies had failed and they didn’t know why until a Mystic came along and told them about the dragons. Earth Fleet stubbornly agreed to allow the Mystics on board the ships, because once they were, the mysterious failures stopped.
As for humans (or any mortals), their presence caused ripples in the Astral Plane. The dragons had a powerful sensitivity to what was happening in the physical plane. The more humans there were on a planet, the less comfortable it was for the dragon. They didn’t coexist well with other sentient creatures. Humans tended to go on emotional rollercoasters, making things too "noisy" for the dragon.
Some planets were big enough to have both dragons and humans. Many didn’t have either. And then there were those where the dragons simply refused to allow humans, or any other sentient creatures to live.
Dante had a few inklings in the physical world as well, but he didn’t need those to know the crew was uneasy. It started dragging him down, despite his best efforts to remain upbeat.
Something was different about this mission. Only one Mystic had joined their ship, which was completely unheard of. Mystics never shipped out alone. They traveled in pairs. They needed one another for some obscure and unknown reason.
Rumors flew. Dante tried to defuse the ones that seemed harmful, but otherwise let them go. If they didn’t hurt him, he let the crewmen have their fun. The captain was responsible for morale. If it got too bad, her ship would suffer, and she wouldn’t allow that. Besides, it was fun to hear the newest theories. He listened to a pair of Technicians as they discussed the latest gossip.
“I am telling you, a Mystic never goes out alone,” the Technician told his friend. He spoke between bites of Mystery Space Loaf, as Dante had dubbed their lunch. “There’s another one here. They’re just hiding.”
“Captain said it was just him,” the other argued. “Captain wouldn’t lie. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Still, even captains get orders,” the first one said. “I bet it’s one of us. They’re pretending to be crew, trying to get close to us!”
“I assure you, Technician… Holland,” Dante said out loud as he turned around and identified the first speaker. “It doesn’t take that much effort to get close.”
Holland turned red, then pink. Dante worried he’d made the man choke. If he had, he could fix it; he was fresh from his first aid refresher courses. But the technician had gone from pink to pale, and without any coughing, so Dante took it there was no danger.
“Excuse me, Mike. Are you done teasing my crew, or would you like a few more minutes?”
The captain strolled up behind the crewmen. The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to hide a smile. The stern look in her eyes was softened by the nickname Mike, the fleet shorthand for Mystic First Class, or M1C.
The Technician stood up and hurried away, and after a moment of staring, his young friend jumped up and followed. Ronasuli watched them go, eyebrows raised.
Captain Ronasuli was sneaky when she wanted to be; he’d give her that. She was taller than average, and fit, with black hair pulled back in a bun. Her dark eyes we
re full of warmth, even when she was looking at her least favorite person on her boat, what they affectionately called their ship. She looked freshly pressed in her uniform in a way that made Dante feel scruffy, and while he often was, it rarely bothered him. Except now, for some reason. He caught himself reaching up to straighten his collar.
“It looks like my schedule just cleared up, but I’ll have to see what else is going on. Can you top a good meander around Engineering?” he asked, gratified when she rolled her eyes. In the first week of the voyage, she’d ignored his jabs. Now she gave back a little of what she got. She’d gone from treating him like a stranger on her ship to acting like she could pick him out of a lineup. He still got the sense that she didn’t care for him or his kind, but that was nothing new. At least she wasn’t obvious about it.
“I think I can manage that. We’ll be in range of Cavey in sixty minutes. Do you have everything you need?” she asked.
“Yes. Peace and quiet in the commune,” he said lightly. The commune was a space next to the hull where the Mystics did their work. Base metals formed a barrier to Mystics. Their astral bodies could pass through with an effort, but it was draining. Composites, like the ones that made up the commune’s walls, didn’t pose the same obstacle.
She sighed. “I assigned a rotating shift to stand watch while you work. When you come out, they’ll make sure you get to your bunk.”
“I can settle for that.” He gave her one of his more charming smiles, but she didn’t react. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t see it or simply ignored him. He’d hate to play poker with her.
“I still don’t understand why you don’t have a partner here.” She’d asked about this before. He was sure she’d asked her superiors, too, but they hadn’t given a satisfactory answer. If her bosses hadn’t seen fit to share, he wasn’t going to anger his by opening his mouth.
“I’m sure your ensigns will get the job done just fine. Thank you, captain.”
“Of course. Just give us a heads-up before you start.”
The Side Liner was a standard runabout, with little room to spare. Every inch had a function, and the commune’s was storage. When a Mystic wanted to use it, they had to clear out the crates. Dante hadn’t bothered before. He could meditate in his bunk, and there was no reason to exhaust himself in the Astral Plane when there was nothing to find.
He went straight to the commune after saying goodbye to the captain. He wanted the extra time to clean out the chamber, but it had already been done. Someone had already stacked the crates in the corridor. He slowed his steps as he approached the room. After three weeks of being snubbed, he hadn’t expected help.
Either there was a catch, or he owed someone a drink.
He went into the commune chamber and sealed himself inside. Once he locked the door, only the captain and Chief Engineer could open it from the outside. The chamber was small. There was enough room for two people to sit on the floor, or perhaps lay down if need be. To Dante, working alone for the first time, it felt entirely too large.
Dante sat on the deck and closed his eyes, dismissing all thought of the ship and its crew. He relaxed as his body’s grip on his spirit loosened. Slowly, his consciousness let go, entering that space between wakefulness and sleep where stray thoughts evolved into dreams, and Mystics could open the door to the Astral Plane.
The Astral Plane was a photo negative of the real world; it held echoes of solid objects painted in colors that didn’t exist in the natural world. It looked and felt like a dream as his astral body slid through the chamber’s carbon fiber walls to hover above the ship, rendered here in hard angles and too-solid walls. But while it was dreamlike, it also felt real to him—because it was.
There was no up or down here, but Cavey floated between his feet, so that became down. He stretched a hand toward the planet, sending his senses out and down in search of the minerals and resources Earth Fleet sought. He visualized their crystalline shapes and the feel of their hard edges. He smiled in anticipation. He had plenty of energy and soon expected to have a treasure trove to report, if his sweep matched what the astronomers predicted. He’d return to home base with this unique notch in his belt, proof that he could operate alone where no other Mystic had done so.
His smile crumbled when his senses touched a sleeping presence. He withdrew at once, but it was too late. The dragon rose from the planet’s surface, meeting his probe with razor-sharp teeth. One beat of its wings drove it at Dante and Side Liner. Its head reared back like a snake about to strike, too fast to counter. It had caught Dante with his guard down, and he didn’t have a single defense prepared. He had to retreat.
Stop.
The command nearly flattened him. The dragon swooped between Dante and the runabout, blocking his return. He couldn’t have moved if he tried. The mental voice belonged to the dragon. It had spoken to him.
“Impossible,” he murmured.
Not so.
The dragon eased back on the volume this time. It was still loud, but not deafening. Its presence alone was overwhelming enough. He swallowed nervously. The dragon was large enough to inhale him without noticing, but being noticed was somehow worse.
“I didn’t know your kind could speak. Does this mean you want to negotiate?”
The dragon’s eyes flared. Dante winced at the bright light that might mean anger or amusement, or both.
“I suppose you’re attached to this planet.” He couldn’t blame the dragon. Cavey was beautiful. It would be just as lovely in the physical world, maybe more so since it was dragon free.
Not that dragons weren’t beautiful. They were awe-inspiring, when they weren’t trying to drive humans away from their planets. This was the other half of a Mystic’s job. They fought off the dragons who guarded planes like these.
A colony on a dragon’s planet was doomed to failure. A dragon’s hatred for humans bled through to the physical world and disrupted human technology. Anyone who tried to coexist with a dragon paid a spiritual toll. Colonists devolved into the worst versions of themselves, slaves to their own anger and fear.
This planet is mine.
“I don’t see your name on it.” Dante started to drift to the right, moving slowly so the dragon wouldn’t notice. “Do dragons have names?”
Not as you understand them. You are naught but a spark from a candle. You are insignificant, yet your flame blazes more intensely, knowing you will soon burn out.
That sounded like a threat. Dante moved a little faster. If he could just get past the left wing, he’d have a straight shot back to the commune chamber.
“Here I was hoping I wouldn’t burn out until middle age.” He forced a grin, then wondered if the dragon knew what it meant. “Come on, let’s make a deal. I must have something you want.”
He’d nearly reached the wing’s outside edge. Any moment now, he’d be beyond it.
You are correct, but there will be no deal.
Dante was stunned. He didn’t know what he had that a dragon would want, but he didn’t trust his dragon trivia. Until a minute ago, he hadn’t known dragons could talk. Anything seemed possible.
The dragon struck at him, snapping at the ether where he’d been floating just a second before. He darted along its titanic body, avoiding fangs and claws as he fell toward the runabout. Heat licked at his feet, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford the distraction.
Returning to his body felt like sinking and waking at the same time. His racing heart pounded like a drum. His breath hissed through his nostrils, then tickled his skin. His sense of weight returned. His body lay at rest on the solid deck of the commune chamber, pulling at his spirit. Even the weight of his closed eyelids seemed excessive.
He was almost there. One more breath, and he would be home.
Side Liner shuddered under him. The dragon loomed behind him. It was too large to fit inside the commune, yet he could see it hovering above him. It whipped its tail around his legs and embraced him in its translucent wings. The dragon’s for
m exploded into brilliant white light that sank into his skin, merging with his astral form as he fought to pull free.
***
Dante lurched into the corridor and stumbled into Ensign Song. They tumbled into the wall together and the thermos slipped from her fingers. She didn’t think she would still be on shift when the gray-eyed Mystic came out of his trance, but she had brought the replenishing drink just in case.
She hit the deck with Dante close behind, ramming an elbow into her midsection. But it didn’t hurt much. There was no power behind it. Dante was almost limp. She put an arm under his shoulder and helped him straighten. As soon as he was upright, he pulled away, wiping the cool film of sweat from his forehead.
Even covered in sweat, Song thought he looked dashing. He was tall and lean, and moved with a swagger she admired. His brown hair was a shade longer than regulations allowed, and if there were regulations on eyelash length, he’d be violating those too.
“What’s wrong, Mike?” She picked up the thermos and tried to press it on him. “Are you sick?”
“Sick? No, of course not.” He looked at the thermos and frowned, his heavy eyebrows forming a deep line between them. He knew what the thermos was, and what it was for, but he couldn’t think how to apply that knowledge to himself. “How long has it been?”
“Four days. Captain Ronasuli wanted to see you soon as you returned, but you should really—”
“I need to see her too. Where is she? The bridge? Good.” He looked left and right, as if trying to get his bearings. He tossed the thermos back to Ensign Song before walking away.
“Are you all right?” she called after him. “Should I call a medic?”
“No, no. I’ll be fine, Ensign.” He stopped and flashed her a tired smile. “Everything will be just fine.”
***
Dante tried to pull himself together. Something had gone wrong while he was in the Astral Plane. For one thing, he should be useless after a mission like that, but he felt fine. He wasn’t that powerful. No one was.
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