Voidhawk: The Elder Race

by Jason Halstead

  She shot him a withering glare. “Thank you, Captain, now please let me do my job.”

  He glanced at Xander, looking for some support, but saw that the wizard had taken his advice to heart and was hiding back over by the staircase to the decks below, ready to hide if the situation warranted it. The Captain smirked and turned to look at the oncoming traffic. He noticed they looked a lot bigger the closer they got. The size difference seldom boded well, at least for the smaller ship.

  Jenna began to bark out orders, bringing the ship around and changing courses every few minutes. Massive bolts and stones flew through the air, unleashed by the siege engines of the ancient warships. Jenna managed to keep them free and, in a stroke of luck, even caused the ship in the rear of the other three to cause a catapult shot to strike a small directional sail on one of the other ships.

  Their luck was short lived. The lead vessel unleashed a new weapon, something that Dexter noted resembled the powerful weapons the elder’s had first loosed at range. A great bolt of brown ripped through the Void at a speed nearly as quick as his thoughts. The range was too close for Dexter or Jenna to react in time. The ship shuddered as the herculean spear smashed just below them, into the bridge below.

  Instantly the Voidhawk felt sluggish beneath them. They continued to turn, but Dexter instantly knew they were drifting in the void. The helm had been destroyed or Bekka had been hurt. He glanced around, searching for a solution, and came to the realization that Rosh was busy, only he remained to fly the ship.

  “Bekka!” Willa cried from her position near the stern. She’d been standing by to aid where needed, running ropes, pins, or whatever was required to whoever needed it. Dexter was running towards the companionway but Willa beat him to it, jumping down the stairs and rushing forward towards the bridge.

  Dexter cursed and hurried after, wincing as he felt another shudder run along the hull. Something else had made contact, though this time it was something smaller. A catapult shot or regular ballista bolt, no doubt. Still deadly in their own right, they would at least take several strikes to leave the ‘Hawk broken apart.

  He stopped as another strike against the hull made the ship shudder. It was accompanied by the tortured sound of smashing timber just ahead of him. Another strike to the bridge, Dexter realized. His stomach felt leaden and he could only imagine the fate that await them. He picked himself up from where he had fallen, having no recollection of dropping to the floor in the first place. What he found up ahead was a mess of broken timber that blocked the door to the bridge. A quick turn into his cabin, where another door to the bridge awaited, left him staring into the void.

  A section of his hull had been destroyed, smashed away by whatever weapon the elves had used on him. The bridge was still there, but his desk had been thrown across his cabin and now was jammed against his door, preventing him from opening it. All he could see was the gaping hole in what had been the outer wall of his cabin.

  “Willa! Bekka!” Dexter shouted, turning back to the rubble strewn doorway.

  He heard some sobbing from inside the room. Sobbing, he knew, that had to come from Willa. “Willa, are you all right?” He called loudly.

  “Bekka!” He heard her gasp. “She’s hurt! Why… why does something always happen?”

  “Willa, get a grip on yourself,” Dexter snapped, realizing even as he did so that he was treating her too harshly. Or perhaps not too harshly, but in order to achieve what he needed in the way he needed it, that was far from the best way of doing it. “Willa, I can’t help, the door’s blocked. We’ll be dead and gone right quick if you don’t listen to me and do as I say.”

  Dexter waited, hoping for her to come around. He heard some sniffing but nothing more than that. The ship shuddered again and he ground his teeth in frustration. “Willa?”

  “What?” She shouted, anger mixed with sadness coming through in her voice. “What more do you want from me?”

  Dexter grimaced, then ignored her desperation. “I want you to tell me if the helm’s been destroyed.”

  He heard nothing for a long moment, then there was a loud noise of some wood striking other wood. “It looks all right,” she said a moment later.

  “All right, have a seat in it. I need you to take the helm,” Dexter said, grimacing even as he did so.

  There was silence for a long pause. It lasted no more than a few breaths of time, but it felt like forever to Dexter. He felt the ship come alive under his feet even as he heard Willa moan through the rubble choked doorway. “Good job!” Dexter told her. “Get us out of here, we’re to be headed back past the battle, see if we can’t lose them with some speed or maybe in the battle.”

  Dexter turned and rushed back up on deck. He saw his new mainsail had a tear in it already, which made him cringe; they had no spare. A few lines had been snapped as well, but Tasha and Tarin were quickly retying them while Rosh and Keshira held things at bay. The railing had been smashed in at one point and Jodyne bled from a wound on the side of her cheek. Dexter could only imagine what the hull looked like, but he had little time to speculate.

  “Jenna!” He called, turning to see her watching the approaching warships. “Willa’s on the helm, take us back through the battle, we’re to lose them or we’ll be the ones lost.”

  Jenna barked out orders, shifting sails and hauling lines. Willa, able to hear from her position on the helm, did her best to comply. She lacked in experience, but made up for it in raw talent. The ship rolled and turned, surprising the elves for they’d thought to board the Voidhawk and be done with it. They fired on the ‘Hawk, but it proved too nimble for their first volley. Even one of the massive spears flew to the starboard side, drawing a breath of relief from them all.

  The Voidhawk closed rapidly on the battle, drawing in the four warships that struggled to advance on it. Only one could fire on them at a time, given the skill with which Jenna and Willa piloted the maneuvering ship. A few more shots from their pursuers found them, but aside from cracking against the hull and bouncing away, no damage was done.

  The battle was quickly joined. The Voidhawk darted through the embattled vessels seldom drawing more than a cry or a gesture from the elves that watched them pass. Dexter watched anxiously off the stern at the pursuit, paying little heed to where Jenna directed them since their pursuers continued to fall behind.

  “That should do,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  Dexter turned to glance ahead and saw several ships of the elder’s fleet, all sporting some damage to them, gathering to assist in the final push to destroy their elven captors. Dexter grinned in spite of himself and let out a little whoop of victory.

  “Take us out of the battle,” he ordered, then turned and headed back towards the main deck. “Tasha, take over for Rosh.”

  “What am I doing?” Rosh asked, handing the woman a rope he was holding in one hand and letting go. Tasha yelped as the rope started to pull from her hand. She grabbed it with both and held on tightly, though she was dragged a few feet across the deck before she got her feet under her and dug in.

  “Come with me, there’s been another cave in,” Dexter said, heading down the stairs below decks.

  Rosh joined him a moment later, muttering above cave ins then stopped abruptly. “Willa and Bekka are in there,” Dexter told him, pointing ahead.

  Rosh moved past him then stuck his head into Dexter’s cabin. He grunted, the door jammed against the desk after only opening less than a foot. He dug in and put his shoulder against it, then pushed. Dexter watched and listened, eyes wide, as the sound of timber creaking, groaning, cracking, and then breaking reached his ears. The desk moved a few inches quickly, then was stuck fast again. Rosh stepped back, twisted his neck to pop it, and took in a deep breath. With a grunt he drove himself at it again and forced the door open enough for them to slip through.

  Dexter pushed through and found himself staring out at the void. His cabin was whole, mostly, but there was a gaping emptiness where the corner that was the
wall to the bridge and the hull should have been. He grimaced and peered around it. The bridge was a mess. Broken boards were strewn about it and his table with all his charts lay broken and shattered. He tried the door and found it shut fast as well.

  Rosh growled and slammed his heel into the door. It fell open with a cracking noise, coming off at the hinges instead of the other end with the latch. More broken boards fell, proving something had been jammed against it, but the way was now open.

  Dexter rushed in and looked around, going first to Bekka. She lay face first on the floor, blood puddled under her head. He bent close to her and listened carefully, though it was an anxious moment until he could hear her breath and feel it on his cheek. She seemed well, aside from the blood and the fact that she was unconscious on the floor.

  Dexter rose up and turned to see Rosh staring at Willa, who in turn had tracks of tears running down her cheeks. She stared ahead, sightlessly, and focused on piloting the ship while Jenna maneuvered them into a safe position.

  Rosh, Dexter saw, seemed at a loss for words.

  “She’s a fine helmsman,” Dexter said softly.

  Rosh grunted, nodding his head in response. “She got the way of knowing things that take most of us years of learning.”

  “Pretty special, that girl,” the Captain opined.

  Rosh nodded again. He turned away, sniffing, and muttered something about all the dust.

  “Aye, let’s clean this up so we can use what’s left for repairs,” Dexter said. “Maybe a new door too.”

  Rosh grunted, ignoring him, and went to work clearing away the broken hull and furniture from in front of the door. Dexter helped him, then stopped when he came across the giant bolt that had nearly broken his ship. It was cast from solid iron and easily eight feet long and half a foot across. The business end was rounded but came to a point, like a target arrow, and the aft end had a hollow depression in it.

  “What do you make of this?” Dexter asked the warrior.

  Rosh stopped and examined it, whistling when he put his hands under it and tried to lift it. It budged and then he picked it up, but Dexter could tell the man was straining to do so. He set it down and took a few deep breaths before saying, “It’s like the ones Jenna’s friends use, except theirs is made of wood.”

  Dexter shook his head and turned back to the door. In a few minutes they cleared enough away to open it properly. Jenna was waiting on the other side with good news.

  “The elves are defeated,” she said, grinning. Her smile faded when she saw the blood and Bekka. She rushed over to her and sighed with relief when she saw the half-elf was still alive, just unconscious.

  “Let’s go have a talk with Sandis,” Dexter said, naming the leader of the elders’ fleet. “We need some time to repair before heading off.”

  “Captain,” Willa said, turning to stare at him though her eyes seemed unfocused and distant.

  “Good job Willa,” Dexter said, turning to face her and smile. “You just earned yourself a promotion to acting helmsman until Bekka’s back on her feet.”

  “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir,” she said, blinking and struggling to focus her eyes. “Sir… could you or…or Rosh please take the helm?”

  Dexter blinked, then turned to look at Rosh. Rosh was lost as well, though he did spare a long glance at Bekka. “Rosh, do as the lady says,” Dexter ordered.

  Willa climbed down, blinking and taking some deep breaths while she held on to the arm of the helmsman’s chair and tried to orient herself back to her own body. She looked up at Rosh and smiled at him softly, then moved past and knelt next to Bekka. “Can someone help me get her to her bed?”

  Jenna, who was still standing nearby, knelt down and helped to lift the injured sorceress to her feet. Between the two of them they carried her back into the hallway and into her own quarters. Jenna returned a moment later, a faint smile on her face that asked more questions than it answered.

  “She going to help patch us up?” Dexter asked, confused.

  “She’s with Bekka,” Jenna explained.

  Dexter blinked. “Why? Bekka’s out cold?”

  Jenna looked at him and shook her head. “You’re such a man,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Dexter blinked again as his first mate turned and stormed out of the bridge. He turned to look at Rosh, but Rosh was lost to the world as he was attuning himself with the ship’s energies. Dexter looked at the massive bolt again and shook his head. “I am a man,” he muttered, then kicked a piece of wood and stormed out of the bridge in search of a repair crew to get to work.

  * * * *

  The smoke worked well, hiding the boarding party from the elves as they launched themselves through the void between the ships. It served to protect the crew of the Voidhawk from the larger elven crew as well, though it worked to hide the elves just as much.

  Dexter didn’t care about visibility, so long as he could get his remaining crew free and away from the elven warship. His crew performed admirably, rolling the ship away and slipped it around the elven vessel as it struggled to change its pitch to bring them in line with its weapons. Shortly the elves’ interest in the Voidhawk faded; the boarding party had announced their presence.

  Dexter watched, briefly, as the light glinted off of Kragor. He longed to be with his friend, fighting alongside him, even as he found his reappearance far too awkward to spend much time around him. Telling jokes and drinking were no longer possible for his once lost friend, but the dwarf turned sentinel could still fight with the best of them.

  He glanced around, seeing the countless other elven ships that sailed through the void looking for targets. Dexter watched a large vessel, a capital ship the size of the one Jenna had crashed what seemed like ages ago, sail slowly above them. Small elven flitters launched from it, the two man craft no doubt intent on strafing the crew of either the Voidhawk or one of the many elder ships that fought.

  He glanced away, searching for another likely target. Something he could identify as a likely victim for the Voidhawk, but he saw little. The ‘Hawk was a transport mostly; neither armed nor armored for war in spite of the repairs and additions the elders had made. Dexter even had one of the powerful elder crafted heavy ballistae mounted on his stern deck, capable of crushing anything short of a small moon in a single hit. He knew, the ‘Hawk had nearly been disabled by one in their last fight.

  Xander cackled maniacally beside him, drawing his attention back to the strange wizard. Dexter followed his gaze and saw a stream of rocks from the asteroid field that surrounded the elder’s port striking the ship one after another. Each hit with great force, smashing into the hull and decking. Elves were thrown from the ship, either already dead or destined to suffocate as they ran out of air within minutes. Dexter shook his head and looked away. It was a good sign, seeing the elves pummeled thusly, but he didn’t think he could ever take such delight in the brutality of the magical assault like Xander did.

  “Not all magic is limited in the void,” Xander said wistfully as he watched. “I’ve got to get them to teach me that.”

  Dexter shook his head again and realized the bubble of calm they sailed in was rapidly shrinking. More elven ships, seeking viable targets, had spotted them and were sailing their way. Dexter smirked. He’d show them the error their ways, even as they thought he was running. The modern elven ships didn’t possess the same level of weaponry the elders or even the ancient elven fleet laid claim to. It was mundane ballista, bombards, and catapults for them. Dexter planned to use that to his advantage.

  “Jenna, time to be somewhere else. I mean to be showing that third ship from the right our tail,” Dexter told her.

  Jenna glanced back and nodded, “Aye, Captain!”

  Dexter caught the wizard grinning and rubbing his hands again. The heavy ballista was magical, but not the only magical surprise the Voidhawk had acquired upon their return to Dasnari.

  * * * *

  “Captain Silvercloud, you have our thanks,” said the elder who s
poke. It was the same one that Dexter had dealt with before, but in spite of that he’d never caught the man’s name. “Truly, your efforts are legendary.”

  Dexter shrugged off the compliment. Words were fine, but they didn’t feed his crew. “About that, I don’t suppose you could see to some repairs for my ship? Between rescuing the fleet and fighting our way back here she took quite a beating.”

  The elder waved his hand as if to say it was inconsequential. “It will be mended, Captain. I would discharge you to your own ends, but I fear we are in a difficult situation.”

  Dexter smirked. Difficult was a mild way of putting it. The elves had blockaded the asteroid field. More elven ships than Dexter had ever seen sailed through the void. The asteroids served as a good shield for Dasnari, but the majority of the elven navy was an even more daunting force. Only surprise and some potent magic from the elders that opened a passage in the asteroids allowed the returned fleet a chance to slip through with minimal additional damage.

  “As well, there is something you should see. A most curious development since you were last with us,” the elder added.

  “Something other than the fleet itching to get in here and drive Dasnari into the sun?” Dexter asked.

  The elder smiled at him and said, “Most definitely different.” He turned and gestured to an alcove off to his side. One of the animated sentries walked out, feet thudding on the floor with each step. It turned when it reached the elder then walked down the dais towards Dexter. The Captain watched, concern creeping up his spine at the constructs approach. Finally it stopped in front of him and knelt down to one knee.

  “What’s going on?” Dexter asked the elder, looking around the living suit of armor.

  The elder nodded to the construct, who was now using one of the edges of the double bladed axe that served as one hand to scratch something into the metal beneath him. Dexter watched, amazed, as it finished scratching out a ‘K’, then it stood up and used its other hand, which ended in a barrel like wand, to tap itself in the chest.