by SK Benton
Max and Bagatelle grinned and nodded at each other.
"Sure, Lieutenant. Just be sure to notify your wife on the comm. We don't want her too worried about you," said Max, who then dragged Marko around a corner and suddenly wasn't on the ship anymore.
###
Max and Jennie Gunnarsson relaxed in the expansive, remodeled Captain's chambers on the Reagan, arms and legs intertwined, naked as they day they were born. They were both beyond tired, working 18-hour shifts, fighting bugs and now chasing ghosts in side space. Jennie purred lightly as she ran her fingernails lightly down her husband's neck, with Max leaning his head back, enjoying her affectionate caresses.
"I heard someone complaining again today," she said.
"Mmm? What about?"
"That we're together on the ship. They still think the old rules apply."
"Well, for most they do. It may seem a bit unfair, but we're pretty much in the center of saving the human race, so they can stuff it."
"Oooh, Max! You get me all hot and yummy when you talk like that. Say something else."
"We're connected at the hip. Anyone doesn’t like it, well, there's the airlock. Take a hike."
"A bit morbid, but yeah, we're getting there."
"I am the captain of this goddamned vessel, and if they don't like the fact that I'm sleeping with my über-hot wife, they can shove their complaints up their collective ass!"
"And we have a winner! Saddle up, baby. This is gonna be a bumpy ride!" squealed the delectable dega as she rolled her husband over. She stopped briefly and looked deeply into his eyes, and then lost herself in his kiss.
An hour later, the Captain and Commander both entered the bridge of the Reagan, each splitting off to different rows of readouts. The ship had been jumping strands in side space all the time they were away, and had yet to detect anything alien. Max was starting to become more and more concerned that they were unable to locate the Brood Carrier, but knew his Prīmulī family was on the job.
Looking over, he saw Jessica and Pandy, both ensigns in the Azul Navy, monitoring panels and taking notes. Approaching the girls, he noticed they weren't looking at anything remotely resembling naval duties. They were studying Castilian Spanish.
"Hello, ladies. How is it that you two aren’t looking for signs of the Brood Carrier, but are studying español?" he asked.
"Oh hi Captain!" Jessica beamed. "As we haven't had much training, Commander Gunnarsson suggested we do this."
Max looked over at his wife, who was desperately trying to suppress laughter.
"Jen, really? Let's get them doing something worthwhile."
"Okay, baby. Hey! How about I assign them to flight deck surveillance?"
"Make it so," he thought back.
Jennie walked over and looked at the girls' lessons, finding they were actually quite bright at foreign languages. Once she made a couple of corrections she motioned for the girl to follow her, which they did quite cheerfully.
Some hours later, while Max, Jennie and a couple of junior officers were eating they received an alarm from the flight deck. Max didn't even bother getting up. He slipped to the flight deck, only to find Jessica engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a Draeder pilot.
"Ensign! Lieutenant! What is the meaning of this?" he screamed.
"Max, he's a zombie! He was ripping wires out of the airplanes like a maniac!" cried out the former resident of PAH. And it was true. The pilot had a blank expression to his face, and kept on trying to attack Jessica. She was doing all she could to avoid hurting the man. Her years of living in an apocalyptic wasteland had prepared her to fight the largest of men. Still, Max didn't want her to get hurt, so he used a push cantus and knocked the man back fourteen meters, crashing into a Draeder and falling unconscious.
"Holy crap! You weren't kidding, Jess. What happened? Full report."
"Sir, Ensign Vendetta and I were watching the flight deck, as Commander Gunnarsson had ordered, when we saw that… thing ripping wires out of an airplane."
"Draeder."
"Yes, that. Anyway, I ran down and he punched me, knocking me down, and then just went back to tearing out stuff as if nothing had happened. He's lost his marbles, if you ask me."
"This sounds like a job for Draagh," Max responded.
"Yes, sir. And… sorry for calling you by your first name in the presence of crew," she whispered.
Max winked at her, and then walked over to the affected pilot, who was starting to regain his wits. However, he was now normal, and after some questioning it was determined that he had no recollection of his actions. Max had security take him to the brig, where he went to ask some questions while being accompanied by his grandfather.
"So, the last thing you remember was walking down a hallway, and then you were on the ground on the flight deck?"
"Yes sir," he practically cried, "and I have a terrible headache too."
"Oh, sorry, that was probably me. Or Jessie. She has a great right hook."
"Am I to fly, sir? I only wish to defend Azul."
"Well, honestly, we need to figure out what happened to you first. You just stay put. We'll put things in order soon enough."
Max and Draagh walked out of earshot of the pilot, who was a genetic normal and had limited hearing anyway. Draagh had a concerned looked on his face as they discussed the incident.
"Jess said he was like a zombie. Not a cannibal, but a mindless automaton. I think he was being controlled by magic," stated Max.
"It is quite possible you are correct, my boy. I shall require a sample of his blood. Through it I may be able to detect magic particles that can be utilized for mind control. However, it may be too late. The system purges unused particles, and as it has been nearly an hour since the incident he may already be clean."
"Grigori?"
"Possibly. I suggest you have a team examine every person on board."
"Okay, Pops. What are we looking for then?"
"A minor-mage."
Chapter 32 - Hide and Seek
A lycan special recon team, each equipped with stun pistols and subspecies detection eyepieces roamed the halls, stopping everyone they saw, and entering every room on the ship, one by one. After the first hour they had only found a crewman with a corrupted form of the ghoul gene. He had bypassed all security before due to the aberration in his cellular structure, and Draagh determined he was no threat. Still, Max had him removed from the ship and sent to Portlandia for desk duty, transportation provided by Michael, after the man had been rendered unconscious.
The team continued until they had examined every life form on the Reagan, not managing to find one single mage.
"So, it has to be the Grigori then, right?" asked Max.
"No, Max. The individual could have entered and exited the ship with their help. There are some aligned with the Grigori, of a lower caste, who have enhanced slip capabilities. They are willing idiots, assisting and hoping to pick up scraps from their superior cousins," said Gabriel, who had gone to the Reagan from the Revolution in order to assist.
Suddenly, everyone felt a powerful presence nearby. It wasn't human, and reeked of angelic power.
"Hey, something's on the ship and it doesn't belong here," exclaimed Max, right before he slipped to the flight deck, and found himself looking at a very large man with white robes and long, golden flowing locks. Definitely an angel.
"Who are you? What are you doing on my ship?" demanded Max, as his uncle appeared by his side.
"That would be Guriel, one of the aforementioned tools of the Grigori," said Gabriel.
"Hello, Gabriel. I am unable to say it is a pleasure to see you, but then again, we were never friends," said the massive invader.
"Max, I believe I will leave this fight to you."
"Huh?"
Max was blown back twenty meters, and picked himself up after sliding another ten. He charged the being, who didn't even move an inch. Max punched him in the face, only to nearly break his hand; Guriel's flesh was like quadrinium. Jumping back, he
executed a push cantus to no avail. Then he tried an electrical cantus. Still no results.
"What the hell? Gabriel, a little help, please?" Max cried out.
Guriel laughed and stood his ground, as Max threw numerous, different cantuses at the angel, nearly lighting a Draeder on fire with one of them. Max looked at his levels readout and saw his yellow line was depleting quickly. He had a substantially great amount of magical power since he had claimed his ghanlo, but he was still subject to a tank. Random, wild cantuses would do him no good.
"Max, it appears he has a shield around him. Your cantuses shall be ineffective unless you can bypass his shield."
"But I never learned to nullify someone else's magic. How do I do that?"
"There is another way. Did you not study geography, my nephew?"
"Oh yeah," Max thought back as he grinned. He had a plan, however; he wanted some information from Guriel first. A crowd had gathered on the perimeter of the flight deck, with Jennie running to Gabriel's side.
"My niece, do not interfere. Max needs to do this on his own."
"Hey, turd-breath. Who said you could come here, and what's your plan?"
"I only seek the destruction of your putrid species, Hybrid. You shall be the last to die, as you are an abomination and not of Jah's creation."
"Why not just kill me now, jerk? Why not get it over with? You know I'm gonna kill you if you don't."
"No, you shall not kill me. You cannot even mount a decent offense against me, one of the cherubim. I tire of this game. As a parting gift I shall kill your wife before your very eyes."
Jennie desperately grabbed at her throat, as if she were being choked by an invisible hand. Gabriel moved to assist, and nullified Guriel's cantus on the beautiful woman.
"Okay, dude. You touched my wife. Now you're toast. Ever watched Scanners?"
Guriel went to laugh as Max disappeared from sight.
"The Hybrid flees out of desperation. I shall bring these great tidings to Samyaza and we shall --"
Guriel didn't finish his sentence. He ceased to exist. In his place was a very messy Max Gunnarsson, covered in angel guts.
"Ewww, gross! Is that an arm?" Pandy cried out, watching a severed limb slide off the side of a Draeder.
"Um, yeah. And I think this is his spleen. Gabe, angels have spleens too, right?" he asked comically, as he flicked an internal organ off his shoulder.
Gabriel crossed his arms and smiled, satisfied that Max understood his question regarding geography.
"Max, what the hell did you do? I mean, thanks, but ewwwww. Gross!" Jennie exclaimed.
"That fellow had a cantus shield surrounding his body. I couldn't penetrate it. However, it didn’t prevent anything… or anyone from getting inside via a slip. I jumped inside him and blew him up," he said, while he used a cantus to clean himself of the angel's entrails and life fluids.
###
"Nooooooo!" screamed Purah, one of the cherubim assisting the Grigori. "The offspring has defeated Guriel! How? It is not possible!"
Gadreel tried to hide his smirk, and acted as if he had some form of compassion for their fallen comrade. But in reality, he was even more impressed with Max, finding him to not only be a worthy adversary, but also starting to quietly question why they were trying to eliminate him in the first place.
"Fear not, Purah, you shall have your retribution, and soon. Our plan continues with great success."
"How is it a success, Gadreel? Two-thirds of the Vrol are dead in space, and the humans are wiping them off the face of their planet. We only have sixty percent of the infernal bugs left, and the Brood Carrier is constantly in hiding."
Gadreel said nothing further, but Samyaza, who was at his side, had discovered Max Gunnarsson's weakness. It was that he would do anything for his mate. She was the chink in his armor, and Samyaza planned on exploiting that fact very soon.
###
"You know, you could have just eliminated him and taught me to nullify someone else's magic, Gabriel," said Max, as he exited the shower in his quarters. A cleansing cantus did a good job tidying up, but never quite got the smell out.
"You were never in danger, nephew. Guriel was a lower angel, one of the cherubim, and you easily defeated him. Now you have such knowledge."
"Okay, but I need to learn cantus nullification, pronto."
"Very well, Max. I shall instruct you when time permits."
"Max, Pandy got the whole fight on surveillance. It's gone viral on all the personal consoles on the ship," said Jennie.
"Jen, that's not good. It's becoming common knowledge that I can slip around," said Max.
"Everybody knows - duh."
"We shall attach a memory cantus to the shared footage. Anyone who sees it shall forget, and it shall disappear from their devices," said Gabriel.
"Wow, cool idea, Tío," said Max.
"Awesome! That really is a great idea. Gabriel, can you guys do that to my junior high school pictures from my awkward years too? I looked like a stork."
Max gazed lovingly at his wife, unable to formulate an image in his mind of her looking like a stork. To him, she was the pinnacle of perfection, unequaled in the entire known universe. She was his life's breath.
###
An hour later, after Max had relaxed and thought over the day's events, he made a call for assistance.
"Can you help in detecting the Grigori? No one seems to be able to find them," Max asked the Prīmulī's sentient computer, Socrates.
"Master Max, I will do my utmost to assist, but I will need certain parameters in which to operate."
Socrates floated in the air in Max and Jennie's quarters, golden particles wafting as he moved around. Jennie was passed out on the bed, wearing only her panties, which didn't bother Socrates in the least - he was a sentient computer, not a man with sexual desires.
"I think we'll have to talk with Draagh, then. He can give you the details. Why don't we leave Jennie here and meet with him in the Hub?"
"Query: why not meet with Lord Draagh, here, young Max?"
"Duh! Jen's almost naked."
"Oh, I did not notice."
Max thought he noticed a smirk on Socrates' glowing, particle-formed face.
"Oh wait, he's here in the castle. We can meet in his quarters," said Max, after he had detected his grandfather's presence.
"Pops, can Socrates and I go to your room? We have some questions."
"Certainly, my boy. I shall await you."
Max walked to Draagh's room, and was about to knock, when the door opened on its own. "Come in, please."
"My Lord, you are looking well," said the sentient assistant.
Draagh smiled and nodded his head, but he wasn't well. He had been fighting off an infection, caused by a magical attack nearly a year before. He had used everything in his arsenal to heal the gash across his chest, which was inflicted by his brother Marnn, during their fight in the Battle of the Blood. No one knew of his injuries, as he kept them well-hidden from sight, and even used a camouflage cantus to conceal the gash when at the river or beach with his family.
"Many thanks, old friend. Now, how may I be of assistance?"
"Pops, I was wondering if there was a way we could have Socrates help us to locate the Grigori."
Draagh paused for a moment, before saying, "Hmm, you know, there may be some tasks we can assign him."
"Query: what might these tasks be, my Lord?"
Draagh conjured an infoscreen and started entering data that went directly to Socrates. As he did, the face started to rotate clockwise, an obvious indicator that it was receiving data.
"Socrates, I have entered all parameters for detecting any Primulus within a parsec. You will be required to go to all locations I have entered into your system. This should take you roughly one year."
"One year?" Max cried out. "We have days at best! Isn't there anything else we can do?"
"Max, my boy, the universe is an extremely large place, even for one who can traverse the ga
laxies via the Hub. I gave Socrates a list of locations where the Grigori have been known to inhabit."
Max sighed, "Okay. Socrates, you have your marching orders."
The glowing face appeared to almost smile, and was about to depart when they heard a knock at the door. Neither Max nor Draagh could smell any presence, as the door opened and a figure walked in, the door closing behind it. Draagh thrust out his arm, and his staff flew to his grip. Max noticed his grandfather's actions and pulled his katana out of his sub-dimensional pocket, ready for anything.
"Danger, my Lord. Query: Shall I summon Michael and Gabriel?"
"Hold fast, Socrates," the ancient Primulus ordered. Your services may not be needed after all."
"Screw that!" Max screamed, as he started slashing away at the man in the room, his katana having no effect and merely slicing through thin air.
"Max, your efforts will avail you no real results. What we are looking at is an astral projection," said Draagh. The Primulus relaxed his arm that held his staff and took a long, sighing breath.
"Hello, Gadreel, what brings you here?"
Chapter 33 - Resistance
Side Space, location unknown
Len Johnson had managed to get control over his visual cortex, and was looking in vain for some way to disturb the Vrol operation - specifically, to control the Brood Carrier. He found that he was so intertwined in their hive mind that he nearly had access to critical functions on the vessel. The one distinct advantage he had over the Vrol was that he had retained his individuality, and thus could not be controlled - to a certain extent. He was still immobile, but his mind reached in, deeper and deeper into the ship's intelligence.
