“So what now?” He looked to Selek and Ilyseal. They both examined their surroundings and compared scans from their bracers. Ilyseal looked about to say something before a square piece of flooring hovered down in front of them. It looked like a health and safety nightmare with no rails or hand holds. The barrier melted away as the slab met the gantry. The Novaarians looked at one another in what he assumed was puzzlement. He didn’t care; he had already assumed they were being led. If it was a trap, he’d deal with it; he just needed a way down. He stepped onto the platform and the Novaarians followed after a moment’s hesitation.
It felt solid under his boots despite the obvious lack of support. The slab detached and dropped down at a steady speed to the level of the prisoners below. He looked over the side and watched the startled humans scatter to make space. The people they were faced with looked dirty and malnourished. It appeared their new captors had not been as accommodating as the scaly ones. They were all whispering while staring at the Novaarians, clearly a new species to them. He had to admit it was refreshing to see some human faces.
A group of Laronians pushed through, having recognised their fellow Conclave members. They didn’t look half as bad as the humans though.
“You have come to rescue us?” The lead male asked. Thanks to the implant Roland understood his alien words. Roland moved past the warriors to face the scaly bastards. To his satisfaction they looked bewildered at his place among the Novaarians.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, scales; I’ve not decided whether I want to forgive you yet.” He deliberately placed his hands on both of his holstered weapons. The Laronians took a step back while looking to the Novaarians for an explanation. Before one could be had the human ranks opened up to reveal a dishevelled looking Captain Fey and a few of the lead scientists. She blinked slowly in disbelief at the site. Her eyes quickly darted between him and the Novaarians, obviously not sure what to make of the new situation.
“It’s a long story, like really long.” He did a quick scan of the surroundings trying to plan the next move. He had no idea what they were going to do next. How do you rescue seven thousand people with no ship?
“How is this possible?” The captain’s words came from a dry and croaky throat.
“These guys are friends,” he gestured to Ilyseal, “Those guys are their friends,” he nodded at the Laronians like it was all really obvious.
“This is a problem.” Selek stepped forward while looking at the dismantled ship above. “We were hoping to use that ship to escape.”
“Well that’s not really an option anymore.” Roland replied sarcastically. Captain Fey looked even more confused at their conversation.
“How can you understand them?” She asked. Roland didn’t have time to get into this.
“Long story, remember.” He turned his back on her to face Ilyseal. “What else do your scans show, are there any escape pods or hangars?”
“This is not a conventional ship; its designs are alien even to us.” She explained. Just then he noticed the wall behind them begin to ripple. He moved through the group to get a better look as it took shape. He was now looking at a circular door built into the wall, though how it did that he had no idea. Following his attention, the others readied their staffs and the masses began to trip over one another to get back.
Roland removed his weapons as the door became translucent and two armoured bipeds passed through. They were both his height but their armour covered them from head to toe, preventing a complete assessment. They both marched in clearly confident in their ability to intimidate any who thought to oppose them. Roland thought he saw them hesitate at the sight of the Novaarians and himself with his weapons drawn. Had they not known they were aboard? How could they not be aware if they sent those drones after them?
Time seemed to slow down in the standoff. Those seconds were vital in keeping the upper hand. He didn’t look to his companions for advice; he already knew what to do. Using his coat to conceal a hand, he replaced one of the LX’s and primed an MID on the back of his belt.
Unfortunately, they reacted first.
A Novaarian warrior, number two he thought, got the brunt of some energy weapon that burst from their hands. The ball of plasma knocked the warrior into the crowd in at least three burnt and bloody pieces. The other armoured bastard waved his hand to the side shoving Selek and Ilyseal into the Laronians with what must have been telekinesis. The force of it knocked half a dozen Laronians over with them and broke Selek’s neck with an audible snap.
The two remaining warriors let loose with their staffs releasing bolts of blue energy into the attackers. Each bolt did nothing but piss them off. Roland used the chaos to his advantage by throwing the MID underhand, aiming for the door behind the attackers. It flew through the portal as the first armoured goon ran at the Novaarians with a speed that could kill.
He wasn’t sure on the details of what happened next. The MID detonated at the same time as the Novaarians collided with goon number one. The implosion blew in most of the wall and the door, dragging goon number two with it. Roland was pulled in as well but not by the bomb. He saw goon number two reaching out for him; at the same time he felt the tug of an invisible hand. By the time he caught up with the armoured shit, the implosion had become an explosion. Together they were both blown down with the debris into the floor below. He counted himself lucky really, if the bomb had still been imploding, there wouldn’t be enough of him left to identify as human.
Debris of all sizes fell off him as he picked himself up. He had definitely broken more than one rib now. He felt blood dripping down several parts of his face as he tried to get his senses back. Everything was drowned out by a high pitch frequency. His guns were missing and the last MID was no longer attached to his belt.
Shit...
It was his last thought before an armoured boot hit him square in the chest sending him tumbling down the corridor. He felt the air leave his lungs as he fought to draw breath before his attacker caught up. He pulled himself up onto his knees, peeling his jacket off as he did. A shooting pain ran through his right shoulder as it took the jacket’s weight. It didn’t feel broken but he was sure he had torn the tendon. His attacker was standing ten feet away, silhouetted by the burning wreckage of the MID. He didn’t advance or make any move to attack. Roland wondered if he was doing something with his mind but felt no effects.
“Come on then, dipshit!” His deep breathing made his ribs feel like they were on fire. He didn’t care anymore; his entire body was in pain from some injury or other. It didn’t take a military assessment to know he was outmatched. One blow to that armour would break all the bones in his hand. That aside, he was still going to give him hell first. The armoured goon just stood there watching him stagger to his feet. The helmet moved from side to side like a curious dog inspecting a new bone.
Roland stood up ready to give his all before the end. Instead of coming for him, the armoured being began to shed his armour coating. The plated metal retracted back until the wearer was able to walk out of it, helmet and all. The occupier of this particular suit was utterly underwhelming. As odd as it was to see a human walk out of the alien shell, it was still a human in form.
And Roland had killed plenty of humans.
Now that he thought about it, he had actually killed a lot of these armoured bastards as well. This human look-alike had a dark Mohawk and a thick black beard with the youthful features of someone in their thirties. He wore a black undersuit much like his own, except the sleeves stopped just below the elbow. He was well built with what would be considered the perfect physique. It was the look in his eyes that Roland recognised though. Those eyes had seen conflict and war, and liked it.
He had to admit it, he was surprised at the man’s choice to leave the protection of his armour. But he knew what this was. The human look-alike wanted a real fight with some ancient notion of honour, or maybe he was just bored with killing everyone the same way. Either way, Roland felt the odds tip in
his favour. If this moron wanted a proper fight instead of just killing him with his weird mind shit, well he wasn’t going to argue.
“So you wanna do it like that, huh?” Roland went to that place in his mind where pain knew it would have to wait. The Mohawk turned his head working out the cracks in an attempt to be intimidating.
“En drako Hol, vor san tae sae adeo el...” He heard the emphasis on the word Hol but he didn’t really give a shit.
“Let’s just skip to the good bit, asshole.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kalian opened his eyes to the actinic light of the distant blue sun and felt the desert heat on his face. His eyes quickly adjusted again by filtering the light and sharpening his senses. He was lying flat on the rocky surface between the Fathom and The Wall. The new armoured suit was keeping his body temperature at a cool fourteen degrees Celsius. A long shadow extended from the Fathom and moved across the desert floor towards him. Kalian stood up to see Namek clambering around the ship’s hull, his features shadowed by the sunlight.
Telarrek came into view from behind the ship and Li’ara with him. Her pace quickened at the sight of him awake. Seeing them jogged his memory of recent events inside the outpost. He thought about the plasma he had created from nothing and the explosion he recklessly caused with the weapons. He reached for his lip in search of any blood from his nose and was thankful to find none. What had happened to him? He had never felt so connected to everything. How did it go so wrong?
Li’ara said his name as she reached out to embrace him. He was shocked at the show of affection and realised how worried she must have been.
“It was bad, huh?” Kalian really wanted to take the time to explore his feelings and relationship with Li’ara, but time wasn’t on his side.
“They had to bring you out here after you collapsed; everything was going a little crazy in there.” She stepped back, looking embarrassed for having given him a hug. Kalian gave the Novaarians a thanking nod for removing him.
“We feared the worst, Kalian. I am elated to see you well again.” Telarrek bowed his head. Namek jumped down from the Fathom with a nimble agility and bounded over to wrap Kalian in a four-armed embrace. He felt his feet leave the floor before the Novaarian released him and stepped away as if it had never happened.
“You are stronger now,” was all he said. Kalian couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them all again.
“Not enough for what’s coming.” ALF was suddenly standing a couple of metres away in his long robe. “I’m afraid our timetable has been cut short. There have been some developments in your absence, Kalian.” The A.I looked up to the sky, seeing something they could not. “The last communication from the Helion reported that the Gomar vessel surrendered, and was taken onboard. Shortly after that, the ship changed course and cut all communication. I have been unable to reach them on any bandwidth or laser-com.” Kalian ignored the fact that the AI was somehow being emitted on the moon’s surface and thought about the Helion.
“Do I even need to ask where it’s going?” Kalian gave ALF a knowing look and the group shared it. The Helion was coming to Nova Prime, and with those engines they would get here a hell of a lot quicker.
“Savrick is now in possession of a Nexus class vessel. He could destroy this moon with a single strike.” Telarrek gave ALF an accusing look. Not only had the crew most likely lost their lives for nothing, but now the enemy had a new weapon. ALF ignored the alien and continued.
“He has commanded through a war that lasted centuries. His tactical mind is focused and honed.” ALF said. “He has experience none of you have. You must continue your training, Kalian.” Li’ara stepped between them with a look more deadly than any weapon.
“Are you actually trying to kill him? He was unconscious for almost a day after the last session.” Had he really been out that long? “It would be dangerous to put him back inside that thing!” ALF stepped forward with a calm expression that told Kalian he already had an answer for this. The AI apparently calculated everything they might say.
“It would be more dangerous to face Savrick without the proper instruction. You have learned so much already, but it is not enough. Savrick can produce organic plasma in the blink of an eye and he does not burn his hand in the process. He can heal his body on a subconscious level without ever having to take a break from killing you. You have had only a glimpse of what Savrick has experienced in a hundred lifetimes. The subconducer will give you the edge you need. It’s dangerous, but you need to be better.”
Without consciously thinking, Kalian had connected to the nanocelium in his suit and discovered the source of ALF’s projection. There were tiny ports that ran around his waist that had blue lights inside. His suit was capable of creating holographic emitters that enabled ALF to exist in a 3D world around him. He focused his attention back on the group and knew this kind of lapse in concentration was what ALF was talking about. With this new connection to everything, he was easily led astray by some new experience or feeling. He couldn’t help but see things differently now. The idea of having only two eyes to perceive reality seemed so disproportionate to what reality had to offer.
“Kalian, don’t.” Li’ara could see his face and knew what he was thinking. ALF was right and looking at her only hardened his resolve. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
ALF interjected, “The sessions can be tailored to avoid anymore overload. Each lesson will be shorter, with a break in between for practical application. With the nanocelium still inside you, I can monitor your vitals for early warning signs. However time is short, your next session will have to be energy storage and consumption; I’m afraid sleep is no longer an option. But if you master this skill, you will never need to sleep again.” His words disarmed Li’ara somewhat as she made no objection to the new structure. Kalian gave her a reassuring look despite his own reservations.
“The minute he doesn’t look right, I’m pulling him out myself.” With that Li’ara led the way back inside.
Savrick walked over the dozens of alien bodies to reach Sef. He was examining the Conclave vessel’s central bridge console, Savrick could tell he was becoming frustrated with the primitive layout. There was so much manual input required in comparison to a Terran ship, he looked around at the bodies and found it amusing that every one of them had been essential to control all the ship’s systems.
Sef wiped the blood off the touch-console but only helped to smear it further. He dropped his fist onto it in anger, causing the glass to crack and the surrounding holograms to flicker. With his helmet up, Savrick’s smile was hidden from Sef. He always found it amusing when the usually calm Sef gave into his rage. He could think of some spectacularly great outbursts in the past by his young protector that had been the detriment to the Terran forces.
He moved past the console and Sef to examine the panoramic view port beyond. Seeing the ocean of space in front of him served only as a reminder of how far away the Gommarian was, and Esabelle. He didn’t worry though; they were safe inside the ship. The Conclave didn’t possess weaponry powerful enough to break the Gammorian’s outer shell. Before his thoughts could wander to the night the ancient ship became his, he felt the floor shake. His reverie was broken by the beast below; he was a blunt tool but an effective one. After reducing the crew in the hangar to pulp they had set off for the bridge while the beast was instructed to hunt down every life form onboard.
He turned from the view to see Lilander using telekinesis to remove every particle of blood from the console. Savrick felt them both tune into the surrounding consoles and take control of the different functions. New holo-images came to life as they responded to the electromagnetic touch. He walked back to instruct them to bring the sub-space engine online when he pushed his mind out into the ship subconsciously and felt an intelligent response.
Confirming his senses, the bridge door parted as three of the ship’s crew burst in. They were all firing plasma-based rifles but they weren’t nearly as powerful
as the organic matter he could replicate. The shots that didn’t go wild were simply absorbed by his telekinetic field. Lilander’s reaction was just as quick, with a turn and a flick of the wrist to send her blade plunging into the blue scaled creature. The blade struck his head, sending him flying back from his companions in a spray of blood.
Savrick had the rest.
The central figure was a large alien with four legs and a body of rock, the floor thundered with his every footstep. Savrick casually lifted his left hand while grasping every molecule that made up the rock monster. The reaction was severe. The flat-headed alien was forced up into the ceiling where his head became lodged in the bulkhead. Savrick felt the hard head cave in and the life leave its body as it hung there.
The third attacker was still charging, unaware of the fate of his fellow crew, who had each died within the first second of their attack. This alien was mostly organic with oddly placed augmentations. Savrick’s own plasma-bolt hit the creature square in the chest. He had charged the particles in such a way that would stop it from passing through the soft body. Instead, the burning matter exploded on impact, sending the alien in every direction. Out of courtesy, he created a telekinetic barrier to prevent Sef and Lilander from being sprayed in alien debris.
The whole incident had only taken a few seconds in which Sef hadn’t even bothered to turn around. The ship gave a resounding whine as the sub-space engine came online. Savrick parted his helmet and inhaled the smell of ozone from the plasma discharge.
“Drop us into sub space. Set course for Naveen.”
Roland was on his back, contemplating his life’s choices before he even knew the fight had begun. There were clear points in his life where decisions could have been made to prevent the pain he was now feeling. He appreciated however that these changes would have meant death back on Earth or Century. A dark foot descending towards his face ended any thought of life choices. He rolled to one side as the foot slammed into the floor inches from his last position. At some stage in his life he had stopped thinking while in combat, leaving his actions instead to decades of muscle memory and intensive training.
Intrinsic: Book One of the Terran Cycle Page 40
