“What does the number say?” asked the person to whom I was reporting. We had never actually met. The voice was masculine, but that was all I knew.
“Well, it says 4 now but was 5 when I first scanned,” I said.
“Hold on,” said the voice.
I continued to watch the scanner and then looked up at the section of armor the scanner was pointed at. It had a visible bulge.
“The number has fallen to 3, and there is a distinct bulge in the armor,” I said over the comm.
“Did you say it is reading 3?” asked the voice.
The beeping was coming much faster and louder now.
“I did, but it now says 2 and that bulge is starting to glow,” I said. I clicked my helmet on and engaged the magnetic locks on my boots. Something was coming through, and this whole area would soon be vented to space.
“Get out of there now!” ordered the voice.
I ran towards the blast doors, too late. The doors slid shut as the air vented from the room through the hole that had replaced the bulge. My armor was rated for the vacuum of space, and my maglock boots held me firmly against the rush.
“Hull breach in section 31571. Blast doors are closed, but I’m on the wrong side of them,” I said over the comm.
“Understood. Hull repair droids are on their way. Just hold tight,” came the reply.
“Not going to ask how much air I have?” I grumbled to myself without activating the comm. I had plenty, but it would have been nice if they’d shown some pretence of caring.
The hole in the hull looked innocent enough, but something must have caused it. I started to climb towards it, then a bipedal form appeared over the lip and looked in. It looked human, but it wasn’t wearing a spacesuit and had some kind of metal grafted to its face. A few more faces appeared, but from my perch I couldn’t get a good look at them.
One jumped in and I finally got a good look at it.
“Cyborgs are entering the breach!” I sent over the comm. and drew my blasters.
There was no reply.
“I repeat, there are cyborgs coming through the breach!”
Silence.
I risked looking away from the ever-growing number of cyborgs to check my screen, and the connection was gone. They must be jamming me.
“I could use some cover right now, Dave,” I said, knowing that he couldn’t hear me. The blast doors were sealed at both ends of the walkway, meaning that the only way out was through the hole in the hull.
The cyborgs continued to pour through the opening and were gathering on the walkway, and one of them took aim on my position. I assumed their accuracy would be perfect and didn’t wait for the shot but teleported through the hull into space.
49
05-14-0067 — Lyshell
My alarm woke me from a deep sleep, deeper than I could ever remember. It was a timeless feeling that I had not experienced since becoming a magus. As a cyborg, I was essentially turned off when I entered the equivalent of sleep, and there were no feelings associated with it. As a primitive, nights were horrendous. It was hard to fall asleep, and when I did my dreams were not pleasant.
Last night had been different. After leaving Joan at her quarters, I returned to my own and lay down. I could picture her face when I closed my eyes. I imagined I could still smell her faint perfume and hear her voice when darkness wrapped around me. The next thing I knew was the beeping of my alarm, and for the first time I felt truly rested. The bed felt cozy and tempted me to stay there all day. Stretching drowsily, I stumbled out of bed. It wouldn’t do to mess up this great morning by being late.
My reflection smiled back at me as I prepared for the day. The air felt purer and the whole day showed signs of being a good one. On my datapad was a note from Joan, thanking me for dinner last night and suggesting we find a less expensive place next time.
Next time. A pleasant tingle passed through me as I read those words. Yes, there would be a next time; hopefully many such.
With a sigh, I slipped the datapad into my pack and reached for my contacts. As my hand touched them Joan’s face came to mind, full of fear. The cyborgs had almost taken her from me again, and I hadn’t even known about it. My hand withdrew involuntarily without picking up the contacts.
“You should destroy them,” I chided myself, but left them there and headed out.
Master Raquel was already in the office when I arrived and gestured to a seat.
“Good morning. While you slept, I investigated the trader that you believe Stones to be traveling. The ship is a small unit owned by Resden.”
“Is that good?” I asked.
“Very much so. Resden is our strongest ally in this region. I reached out to our contact, and he assured me that Stones is in fact working as a guard on that ship, and he will ensure that Stones is ready for us to pick up when we arrive.”
“That’s great news!” I said.
She nodded. “With that mystery behind us, it is time to make you familiar with your new position.” She walked around her desk to sit opposite me. “First, I wish to make it clear that when Grandmaster told me he had recruited you, I requested that you be assigned to me because of your record and training. I know that you were not consulted, so if you wish to back out at any time, you may do so.”
“Thank you,” I said, as she seemed to be waiting for me to reply.
She leaned back into the chair. “If you wish to stay, you will move into the office next to mine. This station will be your home for a while. I am unaware of any relationships you may have in the Kingdom, but you can use the gate to travel back there to visit for a week at a time. We will plan your schedule to facilitate that.”
“Thank you, but there’s no one at the Academy that I’d want to visit other than Dave and Stones, possibly.”
“Your records mention a nurse who is stationed here.”
“Joan,” I said quickly.
“Yes, that was her name. Feel free to arrange your schedule so that you can see her; as long as you fulfil your duties, it is immaterial at what time of day they are performed.” Her voice was professional, but I could read in her eyes that she knew exactly what Joan meant to me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Now, you should be aware that I have three jurisdictions under my authority. The first is the Sac’a’rith, which I will discuss at another time. The second is diplomacy: I am the primary representative of the Wizard Kingdom in this region of space. The third is where you come in, though in truth I’ll need your help with the second also.”
She paused for a glass of water. “No doubt you recall that all magic was wiped out ten thousand years ago, simultaneously killing the majority of the more powerful magi?”
“Yes; that is where, er, when you are from,” I said.
She nodded. “I survived, as did my late husband and the seven master sorcerers. In addition, we found, fought and defeated a necromancer who had survived from that time.”
“Ten magi; that means it’s reasonable to assume there are more.”
“Yes, and that is where you come in.”
Everything clicked into place. “Seventh Rank Battle Wizard Lyshell, the Mage Hunter?”
She smiled and gestured to the rank insignia on my arm. “No, Second Rank Battle Wizard Lyshell, the Mage Hunter.”
I caught a slight green glow out of the corner of my eye. I looked down to find a green two on my arm where there had been a green seven. “But I’m barely a student!”
“Outside the academy, your skill with magic is completely divorced from your rank. You are at early apprentice level in nature-craft, but your rank is second to me.”
That made a lot more sense than promoting people based on their skill with magic and nothing else, but it meant I’d jumped the line again. That will probably be the first thing Stones will say to me, and he’ll be right again. I might give him the same answer; it might even become a ritual between us.
“Now, don’t get too big of a head; right now, you have
no direct reports,” she said.
“What about Greymere and Saraphym?” I asked. I knew them well from our semi-monthly visits, and they were scheduled to join us out here.
“They shall be working with us for a while and will report to you, but in an advisory capacity; they are under Dusty’s command. Like you, Greymere is very experienced in this kind of operation; he helped to locate and defeat that necromancer of whom I spoke. Eventually we will provide you with a complete department, but for the present we will proceed with what we already have.”
“That makes sense.” The number that now adorned my shoulder felt heavy. The weight of command which I had avoided throughout my career was now, quite literally, on my shoulder.
“Now —”
A loud beep cut her off.
“Master?” I asked.
“That is the emergency channel,” she said, rotating her terminal so we could both see the screen and activating it.
“Ambassador, I’m sorry but there is no time for small talk,” said a man who appeared to be human. I wasn’t certain of this as his face looked fake, like a cheap mask sold to children for games of make-believe.
“What is the situation?” asked Master Raquel.
“The Jerov is under attack.”
The ship Stones was on!
“From whom?” she asked.
“They were ambushed by the Cyborg Nation just hours from their final jump. The last message we got was about ten minutes ago, saying they had been boarded by superior forces,” said the man.
“Can you have a transport ship ready in thirty minutes?” she asked.
He hesitated as he worked on some terminal off-screen. “Yes, we have one that could launch, and it can carry a full squad.”
“Prepare it to launch, and I will gate over in thirty minutes or fewer. We will save the Jerov.”
“Thank you, Ambassador,” he said and cut the connection.
Master Raquel called Dr. Leslie. When she answered, Master Raquel said, “Doctor, one of our wizards needs rescuing, and time is against us. Can you spare a full squad of Battle Wizards?”
Dr. Leslie frowned as she manipulated some controls on her terminal. “Master, I can send you Ramsong and his squad.”
“Thank you,” responded Master Raquel. She turned to me and said, “We depart in fifteen minutes, so if you need to do anything to get ready, do it.”
50
05-14-0067 — Lyshell
The next twenty minutes were a nonstop blur of action. Ramsong and his squad filed in and Raquel opened a gate, through which we all rushed to another station. On the station, we double-timed it to the docking bay and boarded what looked like a cargo hauler from two centuries ago. When we were on board, Master Raquel called to the pilot, “Punch it!” and we were off.
“It will be a few minutes before we reach the jump point,” said the pilot as we cleared the bay. “There’s active combat on the other side. I’m not sure I’ll be able to dock.”
“Bring us as close as possible; we can handle the rest,” said Master Raquel.
“Roger,” he said.
Around me the Battle Wizards pulled on their helmets and locked them in place. That seemed wise given where we were going, so I followed suit.
Master Raquel turned to Ramsong and said, “Unfortunately, we have insufficient time for a proper briefing. One of our wizards, Stones, is aboard the Resden trading vessel known as the Jerov, which has been boarded by the Cyborg Nation. Our mission is to save the Jerov and rescue Stones.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Do we have any intelligence on the attacking forces?”
“No. Resden lost communication with them after they boarded. There are warships en route, but it is unlikely they will arrive in time.”
Joan’s voice came unbidden to my mind: “They tried to take control of me!” A shiver passed through my body, and I took off my wrist comp and pulled the power pack from it. I did the same with my datapad.
I caught several of them watching me as I did this. “Disable every piece of technology you have,” I ordered.
They were good soldiers. They didn’t understand why I’d given the order, but the number two on my shoulder meant they didn’t need to. It was my business to understand, theirs to follow orders.
No, I won’t be that kind of leader.
“The cyborgs can send an override signal to any tech you have. They can use it to spy on us and track our location; they can read anything stored on it. They’ve done it already, so this isn’t just a paranoid theory.”
Master Raquel nodded towards me and said, “Second Rank Battle Wizard Lyshell is our foremost expert on Cyborgs and will be leading this operation.”
The blood drained from my face and my knees grew weak. I wasn’t ready to lead warriors into battle. I looked at Ramsong and asked, “In the rush to deploy I wasn’t briefed on your team, so forgive me for asking: how much combat experience do you have?”
He nodded. “Sir, this will be our twentieth active combat deployment, but the first against the cyborgs.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. These were experienced soldiers, which meant I could rely on Ramsong for help. The pilot called over the intercom, “Jumping.”
The cool azure of jump space wrapped around me like a warm blanket. There was an uncanny sense of being welcomed into its fold, like a mother scooping up a child into her arms. This was the first time I had experienced jump space as a magus, and it was nothing like the way I remembered it. As a cyborg, jump space had almost seemed to reject me, but as a mage it was like going home.
It passed all too quickly, and we came out in the middle of a firefight.
“We don’t have any shields; we have to jump out!” came the panicked voice of the pilot.
“Align the cargo bay doors with the Jerov and open them. When we are out, jump to safety,” said Master Raquel and then she sent on our telepathic network, “Teleport to the Jerov. Regroup on her hull. When I have studied the ship, I shall send a location.”
The cargo bay doors started to open, and we rode the air out of the ship into space. I had read about this maneuver during my training as a mage hunter. Magi teleported at nearly the speed of light, but were limited to line of sight. That meant that all we needed to reach the Jerov was to be able to see it.
That was fine, except that I was still tumbling out of control and could see nothing at all.
I risked reactivating and using the computer-controlled jets on my armor to stabilize and then rotated so that I could see the Jerov. Once I had a clear line of sight I started teleporting, each time going as far as I could and then pausing and repeating. The speed at which I was moving meant that even a Class Five Cyborg could not target me.
Eventually I reached the Jerov and met up with the others. We found an airlock and teleported in through its windows.
Safely on board, I asked, “Did anyone think to bring a map?”
“Here, sir,” sent Ramsong as he mentally transferred me a memory of a map.
Opening the map in my mind, I started tracing routes on it. These Cyborgs were probably lower tech than those we had back in the Empire but I was sure they still thought in the same way, which meant if I could figure out where they’d entered the ship, I could probably figure out where they were. It was just another game of probabilities.
“Lyshell?” sent Master Raquel.
“Here,” I sent as I presented an image of the map that I had marked up. “These blue lines represent the most probable paths the Cyborgs would take, but I can’t narrow it down further without knowing where they came in.”
“How can you tell even that much?” she asked.
“They will follow the primary power lines whenever they can,” I sent. Anticipating the question, I continued, “They can use them to recharge, like we use an illuminescence potion.”
“All of your routes terminate at Central Computing,” noted Ramsong.
“Yes, just like humans tend to head for t
he bridge, Cyborgs are most likely to make for Central Computing,” I sent.
“Then we don’t really need to know more than that. We should head there with all speed,” he sent.
I studied the map and then mentally drew a path in green. “If we follow this route we should avoid them all the way there. If we arrive before them, we can dig in and prepare for battle. If the fight is ongoing, we join in.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” sent Ramsong.
“All this is based on guesses without real data, but I can adjust it as we get more information,” I sent.
Ramsong nodded, and we moved out as a group.
“I shall take point,” sent Master Raquel, who adjusted something on her armor and faded from sight as she took off to scout ahead of us.
“That reminds me: make sure you all stay hidden from the electronics. Most cyborgs will have replaced their organic eyes and will be unable to see you,” I sent.
“That seems foolish,” sent Ramsong.
“They will learn, but until they do we should take full advantage of their error of judgement,” sent Master Raquel.
As we ran through the ship, we passed groups of mundanes retreating from the center of the ship, probably heading towards the shuttle bays. They moved out of our way when they saw us coming, and some even cheered. None of them looked hurt, just scared.
I wished I could use my datapad as I tried to remember all the data points I was collecting. Mundanes, unharmed but fleeing outward. No indication of fighting along our route. No indication that we were anywhere near the enemy position. No guards spotted. No announcements over the ship’s internal comm. The ship’s systems all seemed fully functional. It all added up to something, if I could just work out what.
As we approached a turn in the corridor, Master Raquel sent, “Hold.” We all stopped and she sent an image of what she could see: two cyborgs standing guard right around the corner. They were crouched down with blasters at the ready. If we turned the corner, they would gun us down.
Mage Hunter (Lost Tales of Power Book 8) Page 25
