Disciple of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 3)

by Jacob Holo

  Veketon charged Othaniel, thrusting with the lance. She tried to back away, but his sudden aggression caught her off guard, and the tip of the lance impaled her hand. Veketon sent a wave of chaotic energy tracing up the lance, causing Othaniel’s hand to explode in a spray of viscous gore and severed fingers.

  Othaniel retreated, cradling her arm. But her job was done. She’d bought Riviel and Zophiel the time they needed to catch up.

  “I can’t outrun them,” Quennin wheezed painfully.

  “Then we fight.”

  Veketon linked with the waiting archangel squadrons. Thirty-six remained in reserve. He activated twenty-four and called them in. They materialized almost instantly between him and the approaching seraphs, all of them with swords ready.

  “ATTACK!!!” Veketon charged in with Quennin and the archangels.

  Zophiel and Riviel threw themselves into the archangel swarm. But though they slaughtered several archangels before Veketon arrived, they were occupied, and he used every bit of their distraction to his advantage.

  Veketon threw all his strength into his first attack. Zophiel pulled a sword free of an archangel corpse and raised it to block, but he judged the angle poorly. The lance’s tip stabbed the flat of the blade. Ziggurat brass hissed for a moment, and then the lance punched through, shattering the sword in a hundred glinting pieces.

  Veketon plunged his weapon into Zophiel’s wounded side.

  The black armored skin of the seraph blistered, energized blood pulsing from the wound. Zophiel threw the broken hilt of his sword away and grabbed the lance shaft. Armor over the seraph’s hand melted, and the flesh underneath crisped.

  Then something happened Veketon did not expect.

  The flowing letters on the lance glowed brilliantly blue, imbued with his specific chaos frequency. But the characters near Zophiel’s hand dimmed and darkened, becoming black pits of energy in the lance’s surface.

  The Disciple’s influence moved up, forcing back more of the blue, climbing up the lance. The two energies fought against one another, mingling and snapping and sparking.

  “You will not defeat me!” Zophiel screamed, the lance still buried in his side.

  “Impossible!”

  “I will not fail my lord!” Black energy climbed further up the lance.

  Veketon concentrated on infusing the lance with his strength and will, but no matter what he did, the tide of black energy pushed on until it finally reached his hands.

  His throne’s mnemonic skin blackened and crinkled. Veketon let out a pained exhale, warnings lighting up in his mind, his true hands charring inside the cockpit. He struggled against Zophiel, driving more of his will into the lance. The two of them flew about wildly, joined by the lance, the wider battle raging around them.

  Finally, Veketon could no longer stand the agony, and the lance slipped from his grasp. Zophiel fell away, his pained laughter filling Veketon’s ears. He pulled the lance free from his side and held it aloft.

  “I thank you for the generous gift!” Zophiel laughed.

  “You have not won yet!” Veketon snapped his arms out to either side. Auxiliary weaponry shunts activated, and the vents exhaled blue energy. A chaos long sword snapped into vivid existence to his left, and a kite-shield of blue energy solidified to his right.

  Veketon flew in, swinging the long sword around and striking firmly against Zophiel’s lance. Black energy sparked from it, and Zophiel fell back, his armor bleeding from the wound to his stomach. He turned, spread his wings, and sped deeper into Cathedral.

  Veketon was about to pursue when Riviel darted in front of him. He brought his energy sword crashing down on her, but it rebounded off her shield. She lunged in with her broadsword, and Veketon deflected the attack with his energy shield.

  Riviel let loose a rapid series of strikes, forcing Veketon into a defensive stance. He recovered quickly, but before he could strike back, she spun sharply and took off after Zophiel and Othaniel.

  The Disciples had achieved their goal. They had the portal lance.

  “I will not let this stand,” Veketon said. “Come on, we’re going after them!”

  “But, Vek! What about our escape?”

  “We can escape later. We need that lance. Let’s go!”

  Veketon flew after the Disciples, and Quennin followed as fast as she could. Even as injured as she was, she still outpaced the five remaining archangels, who quickly fell behind.

  All three Disciples were wounded, and Veketon knew he could overtake them. He willed energy into his halo-wings, and the distance slowly closed.

  “Vek, I can’t keep up this pace!” Quennin shouted.

  Veketon opened her biometric readouts in his mind. Her slipsuit had enacted temporary repairs to her body, and the throne had partially regenerated the damage, but she and her throne were still wounded. Both could only last so long in a fight against the Disciples.

  And yet, I cannot lose the lance! Veketon thought.

  “Can you fight on?” he asked, even as his mind screamed: The lance! I must retrieve it!

  He shook the thought away.

  “I… I don’t know,” Quennin said, her voice slightly more normal than earlier. “I’m still in bad shape, but I think they would have finished us if they thought they could. They’re hurting too, and you’ve barely been touched.”

  Fuurion entered the hypercast channel, his signal carrying Maximum Priority.

  “Report,” Veketon said.

  “Venerable master, at least ten Alliance seraphs have intra-gated to the Cathedral surface and are heading towards your position. Forwarding coordinates now.”

  “Then that settles it,” Quennin said. “Vek, we need to get out of here.”

  Veketon analyzed the interplay of positions and destinations. He took into account the newly arrived Alliance seraphs, the retreating Disciples, and himself and Quennin. They all lined up in a most unexpected way, and he smiled coldly.

  Veketon activated his remaining twelve archangels and set their fold coordinates. He didn’t link the confirmation code, not yet. After all, he needed to time this just right if the archangels were to serve as effective bait.

  “Quennin,” Veketon said, the cruel grin still on his face. “I believe help just arrived from a most unlikely source.”

  ***

  Jack shot through the intra-gate first, his white seraph appearing high over the Keeper artifact. All around him, Disciple and Fellerossi warships exchanged beam fire and torpedo salvos, flooding space with explosions and dying ships.

  Ten seraphs followed Jack through with Seth exiting the intra-gate last before he closed it. The Alliance seraphs fell into their combat formation: Jack, Seth, Jared, and Yonu took the lead with Knight Squadron and an invisible Tesset taking up the rear.

  “Jack, can you detect Veketon?” Seth asked.

  Jack switched his chaos scanners to full gain. Points of light flared alive within the moon-sized Keeper artifact.

  “Uh… I think…?”

  “That’s rather imprecise for you.”

  “I don’t know, Seth. Something’s wrong. There’s way more activity down there than I expected.”

  “Could it be an archangel swarm?” Seth asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s like… Seth, I’m detecting five throne-level signatures within the artifact.”

  “Did you say five?” Yonu asked.

  “Hold on. That doesn’t make sense,” Jared said. “If Veketon had additional thrones, he would have used them against us at Vigilant Sentinel.”

  “We’ll head in for a closer look,” Seth said. “Jack, see if you can figure out what’s going on.”

  “On it.”

  The seraphs skimmed over endless stretches of polished white stone hexagons. Spires loomed up in the distance like giant spikes driven into the weapon-traced heavens. The fleets continued to duel in the skies above but were too preoccupied to worry about seraphs they could hardly injure.

  Seth opened a private channel
with Jack.

  “Any ideas?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you think we should pull back?”

  “No. If nothing else, we need to know what Veketon’s doing here. Who knows? We may catch him off guard. Both sides have negator fields active, so Veketon can’t run even if he wants to, and we can always intra-gate out.”

  “But five thrones, Jack.”

  “I know.”

  “If it’s true he’s rebuilt his forces to that degree, we may have no choice but to return to Aktenzek. It’d be suicide for the others.”

  “Well, he’s here now. Or at least we think he’s here.”

  “It’s as good a guess as our spotty exodrone intelligence can give us,” Seth said. “Even with our poor reconnaissance, it was impossible to miss all those redeployed ships. Whatever’s going on here, it’s very important to Veketon.”

  “And you’re sure he’s not here for this Keeper moon thing.”

  “Positive. It’s dormant now. The constructor kernel has already been spent, and the weapons are ruined beyond repair.”

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  “New contacts!” Jared said.

  Twelve fold points opened within the Keeper artifact. That shouldn’t have been possible, but Jack had grown used to Veketon’s little surprises. Immediately, he could perceive them as hot beacons of light in his mind but still dim compared to the five thrones.

  “Archangel squadron,” Jack said. “They’re heading straight towards us.”

  “Intercept and destroy!” Seth said.

  A hexagonal hole loomed before them in the artifact’s surface, and the seraphs dropped into the interior at full speed. Strange lattice layers flashed by, and they shot though the gaps, heading towards the artifact’s center.

  The archangels flew up to meet them, still not yet in view.

  Jack summoned his energy sword and shield. Next to him, Seth spun his lance around, its elegant sinuous script glowing like a sun. Knight Squadron held formation close behind, rail-rifles ready.

  The archangels came up through a pentagonal gap near the huge white wall of an artifact spire.

  “Take them out!” Seth accelerated in.

  “Here we go!” Jack spread his wings and charged.

  Six of the archangels fired, their kinetic bolts striking Jack’s barrier with the force of small nuclear explosions. His barrier flashed visibly for the briefest of moments, and the bolts ricocheted off.

  Jack swooped in and plunged his sword into the lead archangel’s chest. The impact blew glowing fragments of its endoskeleton and internal systems out the back. Blue fluid poured out of the gaping wound. The archangel’s shunts darkened and died, and Jack kicked it off his blade.

  To Jack’s right, Seth swung his portal lance and barely grazed an archangel. But the portal lance was no ordinary weapon, and its field of effect stretched beyond its physical body. The archangel cracked around where the lance touched it, and then exploded in a wet flash of fluid and machine entrails.

  Knight Squadron pounded the archangels with bursts of kinetic bolts and fusion beams. The barriers of two archangels failed, and the armor and systems underneath vaporized in white flashes. Another tumbled wildly, one of its wings reduced to a shriveled wreck.

  Three more archangels came at Jack.

  The empty space wavered with the silhouette of a seraph. Tesset appeared behind the leftmost archangel, lit her rail-carbine’s bayonet, and severed both of its wings. She shoved her carbine barrel against the archangel’s back and fired, blowing out its chest before she vanished again.

  Jack swung at the other two archangels, his sword forming a glowing horizontal arc. The blade cut through swords, arms, chests, and wings as if they were damp paper. He flew through the bleed fragments, looking for more targets.

  None existed. The Alliance seraphs had finished off all twelve archangels.

  “Huh.” Jared stowed his rail-rifle. “That was unusually wasteful of our enemies.”

  “Jack, we’re a bit closer now,” Seth said. “Can you locate Veketon?”

  Jack checked his chaos scanner. “It looks like… wait, that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What is it?”

  “There are definitely five thrones beneath us, but… they’re fighting each other? How can that be? Maybe I’m not reading this right.”

  “And Veketon?”

  “Ahh… looks like he and Quennin are chasing the three unknowns.”

  “Could be Disciples,” Jared said.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Yonu said.

  “Well, it’s Fellerossi versus Disciples above the surface,” Jared said. “Why not here also?”

  “We’re here to kill Veketon,” Seth said. “Stay focused on that. Come on!”

  Seth led the way towards the Keeper artifact’s core. Light filtered up from the artifact’s center, making the lowest levels appear as black lattice patterns against a glowing inner sun. They closed on the thrones from above, descending and converging on their position.

  “Two of the unknowns are breaking off,” Jack said. “They’re heading towards us. The third unknown is heading towards the surface. Looks like Veketon and Quennin are pursuing that one.”

  “Everyone, hold your fire until I give the order,” Seth said. “Let’s see what we’re up against.”

  One of the artifact spires was dead ahead, forming a square pillar ten kilometers thick. Two black seraphs rounded it, approaching at high speeds.

  They both looked like they’d seen better days. One of them carried a reddish brass shield and broadsword, but the shield was horribly warped. Eyes covered its surface, all of them shut, and a spot near the top had been melted and pierced. The broadsword was still whole, and its black energetic edge crackled with little snaps of red lightning.

  The second seraph didn’t carry any weapons. Gooey strands of flesh pulled at the shattered remnants of its right hand, slowly reforming the appendage. Its thumb, the only digit still attached, dangled loosely at an unnatural angle.

  Despite the damage, Jack sensed the tremendous power emanating from these two. As wounded as their seraphs appeared, they were still incredibly dangerous.

  “Seth, uhh, who are these people?” Jack asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Nothing in that Keeper database of yours?”

  “Not a thing. I just checked.”

  “They look more like seraphs than thrones. And did you notice their weapons and armor?”

  “Yes. That’s Ziggurat tech. Their chaos frequencies are also similar to the Bane’s.”

  Seth brought the Alliance forces to a stop, and the two seraphs held position near the spire as if mutual curiosity had overcome both parties. Neither side moved, though Jack could feel both unknown seraphs tensing for combat.

  A hypercast channel opened from the seraph with the shield and broadsword.

  “You are trespassing in Disciple space,” a young woman said in a firm tone. “Identify yourselves.”

  “Hey, Seth? You want to take this one?” Jack asked.

  Seth’s black seraph moved forward at a slow, unthreatening pace. He stopped in front of the Alliance formation.

  “First, I must ask a question of you,” he said. “Are you allied with the traitor Veketon?”

  “You oppose Veketon?” the young woman asked, sounding surprised.

  “That is correct. Do you?”

  “Yes. Now, you will answer mine.”

  “Of course. My name is Seth Elexen, and I have come here to hunt the traitor Veketon and to kill him. I did not expect to find anyone else fighting him, and certainly no other seraph pilots. Please tell me: who are you?”

  The channel was silent for a moment, as if the two seraph pilots were discussing matters.

  “We are the Disciples of Vayl,” she said at last. “I am Riviel, and this is my sister Othaniel. If you truly wish to kill Veketon, I will consider allowing you to pass. But be warned. Make any move of agg
ression against us or our brother, Zophiel, and we will kill you.”

  “Hmm,” Jack muttered to himself. He opened a private channel with Seth.

  “What it is?”

  “I’m not sure, but that name they dropped sounds familiar.”

  “Which one?”

  “Zophiel. I’m having trouble placing it, but I know I’ve heard it before.”

  “When you were out in this region of space?”

  “Maybe. I wish I could say more.”

  “It’s all right.” Seth switched back to the open channel. “Disciples of Vayl, I have no quarrel with you. My only mission in this region of space is to see Veketon dead for his crimes. If you will let us pass, we shall carry out our mission and then leave your territory in peace.”

  “You wield one of the lost portal lances,” Riviel said quietly.

  “You know of them?”

  “Tell me how you came by it, and I shall consider your request.”

  “As you wish. It was given to me when I was elevated to the rank of Keeper of the Gates.”

  “I see…” Riviel said, her voice gaining a dark edge. “So you’re a Keeper. Now this makes more sense.”

  “Uh oh,” Jack said. “Seth, I don’t like where this is going.”

  Riviel pointed her broadsword at Seth. Further back, Othaniel opened her uninjured hand. Black energy leaped between her fingers.

  “We do not treat with Keepers,” Riviel said, her tone laced with vitriol. “You may be enemies of Veketon, but your kind stands for everything we oppose.”

  “There is no need for violence between us,” Seth said.

  “You have a choice before you, Keeper. Give me the lance, and I will permit you to run away unharmed.”

  “No.”

  “Then I shall claim it from your seraph’s corpse!”

  Riviel raised her shield and spread her wings.

  “Knight Squadron, fire!” Seth said.

  Eight kinetic bolts slammed into Riviel. Five ricocheted off her shield, not even making a dent, but three struck her seraph, knocking her back for critical moments.

  Othaniel raised her arm and released a whip of black energy. It snapped past Jack, zeroing in on the Knight Squadron seraphs behind him. The end of the whip flicked upward, slicing through Yonu’s rifle and left hand. She screamed as the whip looped around her seraph.