by Chris Fox
“Yes, sir!” Aran and Nara chorused together.
“Now get into your armor, and let’s move out,” Crewes rumbled, moving toward the membrane near the rear of the airlock across from the barracks. Thalas had already moved to the membrane, his arrogant face obscured by his mirrored helmet.
“You notice Thalas doesn’t ever speak to us directly?” Nara said in a low tone, moving to the back of her armor.
“Yeah.” Aran moved to the back of his own armor, pausing to inspect the potion loaders. All three were now full, two with a shimmering white liquid, and the last with a bright, fluorescent green. “All his orders are relayed through Crewes, I’ve noticed. The only people he’ll speak to are direct subordinates, or superiors. He didn’t even speak directly to Admiral Kerr, because he isn’t Confederate.”
“Doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.” Nara sketched the void sigil in front of her armor, and the armor went translucent. She paused to look at him, giving a tentative smile. “Listen, we’re about to do something that could get us both killed, so if I’m going to say this, now is the time. I don’t really know what the history between us is. I gather I screwed you over pretty badly. I just wanted to say…I’m sorry that happened. But I’m not that woman anymore. I’ve got your back out there, Aran. I hope you have mine.”
That took Aran off guard. He cocked his head, considering. “I can’t lie, Nara. Trust comes hard. You weren’t a good person before. Maybe I wasn’t either; who knows? All we’ve got is the people we are now. You watch my back out there, and I promise I’ll do the same.”
“That’s enough for me.” Nara stepped into her armor, and the armor solidified.
Aran sketched his own sigil, drawing the barest amount of energy to do it. He stepped into the armor, sighing as it solidified around him. Being in the armor brought him to life in a way nothing else had, and while the prospect of boarding the station terrified him, there was a note of excitement too.
The armor’s HUD flared to life, showing the paper doll representation and the potion meters. Those meters were all green, but Aran still had no idea what they did.
“Sergeant Crewes, I notice we’re loaded up with potions,” Aran said, using the armor’s built in comm unit instead of the external speakers.
“It’s good to know you wipes aren’t completely blind. Aran, you’re loaded up with two healing potions, and a potion of magic resistance. That moment when you’re wetting yourself, ducking acid bolts? Yeah, that’s when you use that potion.”
“Good to know.” Aran walked over to stand next to Crewes and Thalas, noting that the captain’s armor didn’t pivot even a millimeter to acknowledge his presence.
“Sir, what about mine?” Nara asked. She was still more hesitant than she’d been before the mind-wipe, but Aran could hear the confidence returning. He wondered how much of the old Nara remained.
“You’ve got a potion of healing, and two potions of invisibility. You’re going to use those to cloak our unit, all four of us. Any use of magic will disrupt the invisibility, so once we’re under way no one casts anything. Stick close. If you leave the radius of the spell, you’ll become visible.” Crewes set his helmet over his head, then tightened it. “Get your suits sealed. We’re moving out in fifteen.”
Aran took a deep breath, watching as Nara moved over to join them. Sending a pair of untrained tech mages to assault a Krox-held station? Maybe Thalas was right. Maybe it was madness. But Aran noticed that once the major had decided, Thalas had accepted the order. He was here, leading a charge he thought suicidal, even though he knew the Confederacy had technically relieved the major of her command.
“Sergeant Crewes, deploy your men,” Thalas commanded. He leapt through the membrane, into the cold void beyond.
“Move, mages. Move!” Crewes roared.
Aran leapt through the membrane, and Nara followed. There was no change in temperature, but Aran felt somehow colder outside the ship. Just the knowledge that there was only a thin metal suit between him and the unforgiving vacuum outside terrified him.
Thalas had begun a slow burn toward the edge of the asteroid field, drifting toward the outer edge. Crewes had followed, increasing thrust to draw even with the captain. Nara fell in beside Aran, about forty meters back.
They followed Thalas to the back side of a city-sized asteroid, slowly spinning toward the edge of the field. Thalas glided to a graceful crouch at the top of a ridge. Beyond them lay only a few smaller asteroids, and then the empty space leading to the station. A cloud of hazy, winged shapes danced around that station—nine in total.
“Two Wyrms are unaccounted for,” Thalas said over the comm.
“Should I send a messenger to the major, sir?” Crewes asked.
“Negative. It’s not worth the risk or the energy. The plan does not change. Have Private Nara engage the first invisibility potion.”
“You heard the man, wipe. Use the first potion.” Crewes moved a bit closer to Nara, so Aran did the same.
“How long will the spell last?” Nara asked.
“And how far from her can we get before it will drop?” Aran added.
“One at a time, wipes. It will last about ten minutes, enough time for us to reach the station,” Crewes rumbled. “Stay within twenty meters of Private Nara. Your armor will show the locations of the company on a mini-map, as soon as you enable that feature.”
Aran looked at his HUD, but saw no obvious way to do that. After a moment a mini-map sprang up in the lower right corner, showing blue dots representing the three other company members. Apparently, it responded to thought. Handy.
“Okay, here goes,” Nara said.
A wave of tingling energy pulsed off her, rippling outward in all directions. It passed with no visible effect, but Aran could sense the residual magic energy around them.
“How are we still able to see each other?” he asked, reluctantly risking another question. Crewes did not seem to like questions.
“Man, every time I think you can’t ask a dumber question. It’s an invisibility sphere, wipe. Anything outside the sphere will see empty space. Anything inside can see as normal.”
“Let’s deploy, Sergeant,” Thalas barked. “We have a mission to be about.”
“Move!” Crewes stabbed a finger at Nara, and she leapt off the asteroid, into the gulf between them and the station.
Aran touched the energy in his chest, feeding enough to guide the armor after her. They quickly accelerated, and the asteroid field receded between his feet. He glanced upward—well, relatively upward. The station was approaching swiftly, but they were several minutes out.
“Here she comes,” Crewes barked into the comm. “The Hunter. Ain’t she glorious? They’re making their approach.”
Aran watched the wedge-shaped ship break from the rock field and angle toward the planet below. A pair of battered Ternus cruisers fell in behind her, ripe targets any enemy would find tempting. All the pieces were in motion.
He looked up at the station again. Closing fast.
28
Surprise
Voria exhaled a long, slow breath. She schooled her features, knowing both Bord and Kezia were watching her from their respective matrices. Neither was adept at starship combat. Neither had fought a full-sized Void Wyrm. Both would be tested today. She could give them a rousing speech, but sensed that would be a mistake. It would call attention to their impossible task.
Instead, she would treat it like any other day. Then, perhaps, they would also treat it as such.
“Specialist Bord, pour your strength into the spelldrive. We need every bit of speed the Hunter can manage.” Voria eyed the scry-screen through the rotating rings that enclosed her in the battle bridge’s command matrix. “Corporal Kezia, normally I’d handle defense myself. Today, I entrust that to you.”
“Yes, sir.” Kezia gave a tight, confident nod.
Excellent. Thalas rode her relentlessly, with his prejudice clear at all times, yet Kezia seemed immune to his co
nstant badgering. She just worked harder to be the best in her unit.
Voria touched a fire sigil, then a second on another ring. The scry-screen rippled, showing the space behind the ship. Two battered Ternus cruisers limped in their wake, one still battling a very real structural fire. The admiral had handpicked them; each was staffed with a skeleton crew of wounded heroes who knew they wouldn’t be returning from this.
“They’ve noticed us,” Kezia said, biting her lip. “That happened faster than I’d expected.”
Several dragons had lifted off from the station’s outer hull like a flock of birds startled into flight. More joined them, until the entire flight had gathered. They were already growing larger on the scry-screen.
“More speed, Bord,” Voria ordered, not looking at the specialist. He had a deplorable array of personal weaknesses, but he was a talented life mage. The very rarest type of mage.
Fortunately, his chief weakness was a fondness for women. He’d do anything to impress Kezia, including admitting to that fact.
A bead of sweat trickled down Bord’s forehead, then a slow, golden luminance built around him. It flowed into the matrix as liquid pulses of light. The Hunter accelerated, creating a gap between it and the cruisers.
The dragons streaked toward the cruisers, unable to resist fleeing prey. Especially wounded prey.
“Won’t they suspect some sort of trap?” Kezia asked, reaching up to grab the stabilizing ring in her matrix.
“A few of them might, but they won’t be able to stop the swarm from attacking.” Voria studied the approaching Wyrms as they neared the slower of the two vessels. “Losing Kheftut has enraged them, and they’ll take any opportunity to vent that rage.”
As if to punctuate her words, one of the largest wyrms breathed a cone of white at the cruiser. The damaged vessel was far too slow to dodge, and the breath enveloped the entire ship, extinguishing all life within.
The cruiser detonated, a ballooning wave of fire and debris expanding in all directions. The closest dragon’s eyes widened comically, then the wave overtook it, blasting the creature backward. Its wings were shredded, and a large chunk of burning hull punched through the Wyrm’s chest, right above the heart.
Two other wyrms were caught in the blast, though both survived. They circled behind their dying brethren, wounded and seething.
“Kezia, prepare a counterspell,” Voria barked. She brought the Hunter about, toward the wounded Wyrms. Voria touched the sigil for earth, then added void from another ring. Finally, she tapped earth again.
Deep brown power rolled from her chest, surging into the rings around her. The Hunter’s spellcannon hummed, then fired. A blob of dark, pulsing energy shot toward the two wounded dragons. They evaded, swooping clear of the energy’s path.
Voria smiled. The gob of energy expanded, and streaks of purple lightning crackled within. The wyrms slowed, then halted. Then they were pulled toward the ball of energy, sucked inside by the spell’s immense gravity. Voria brought her hand down in a sharp chopping motion, and the ball of energy zoomed toward the planet. By the time the Wyrms broke free, the planet’s gravity well would already have caught them. In their wounded state, they’d be too weak to make it back to orbit for several hours.
“They’re firing spells, sir,” Kezia called, her voice cracking.
“Intercept, Corporal,” Voria ordered. She shifted the scry-screen to show the incoming spells—a trio of deadly blue clouds—and maneuvered the Hunter into a tight dive, toward the planet. She used its gravity to slingshot them forward, increasing their momentum.
The spells were still closing, adjusting their course to match the Hunter. “There’s no outrunning them. Kezia!”
The tiny corporal gave a fierce roar, her hands flying across the rings. Sigils lit up, and a streak of silver energy boiled out of the spellcannon. It caught the closest enemy spell, dissipating it harmlessly.
The second and third slammed into the Hunter, knocking Voria from her feet. She fell into the rings, and her head rebounded off the silver one.
Voria pulled herself back to her feet, shaking her head to clear the stars. “Bord, damage report.”
“Both shots hit the spelldrive. We’re down to less than a third of normal strength.” Bord sounded panicked, and a glance confirmed it. His eyes were wide, knuckles white. He was ready to break.
“Steady yourself, Specialist.” Voria allowed some compassion into the words. That got his attention. He looked up at her. “Use what remaining power we have,” she said. “Limp back toward those asteroids.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kezia said, quietly.
“Excellent work on that last volley, Corporal. Prepare another counterspell.” Voria concentrated on the rings again, synched with the matrix, and guided the Hunter back toward the asteroid field, as if abandoning her attempt to reach the planet.
The remaining Wyrms followed, far closer than she’d like. The plan was unravelling. The Wyrms would reach the Hunter well before she made it to the asteroids.
“Let’s hope our friends are ready,” she muttered grimly.
29
Battered
Voria tapped spirit, then life. She fired the counterspell, and a moment later the spellcannon echoed it with Kezia’s. They streaked into the cluster of incoming spells, ending them in a silent explosion.
“Yes!” Kezia cheered, pumping a fist in the air. “That bought us some time.”
“Let’s hope it’s enough,” Voria said, watching the scry-screen. Six dragons pursued them, straining against the planet’s gravity to reach them before they could find shelter in the ring of asteroids.
They’d ignored the second cruiser, and in fact had flown wide around it, slowing their progress. Wisely, as another explosion lay waiting.
“The dragons are unleashing another volley,” Kezia murmured, her smile fading to a flat, worried line.
“Counterspells,” Voria barked. Her fingers flew across the sigils with practiced ease. “We’re nearly there.”
Kezia nodded tightly, paling as she tapped the sigils in her own matrix. Another volley of blue spells shot in their direction, and two more counterspells rose to meet them. This time it wasn’t enough. Two of the spells were stopped, but four more continued on, unhindered.
They slammed into the Hunter, and the bridge titled wildly. This time Voria was fast enough to grab the stabilization ring and prevent herself from falling. Neither Bord nor Kezia were as lucky. Both were tossed into the rings and battered about as they fought to regain their footing.
Something groaned deep within the Hunter, a sound like the deep clawing of metal tearing from metal.
“Bord, are you conscious?” Voria demanded, slipping from the rings and moving to Kezia’s side. The tiny warrior’s eyes were closed, and a lump swelled on her forehead.
“Coming,” Bord called weakly. He crawled the distance to them, stopping next to Kezia. “She’s not too bad off. I can fix this.”
“Do it.” Voria rose smoothly to her feet, and ducked back into the matrix.
The scry-screen told a grim tale. The dragons had closed, and were moving into position to deliver a killing blow. The Hunter’s shields might stop the first breath weapon or two, but the third or fourth would kill them all.
Fortunately, the Hunter still had plenty of momentum, and their course carried them toward a continent-sized chunk of dark rock—the asteroid where the Ternus forces lay waiting.
Voria touched a life sigil, then a water sigil. She reached into her satchel, withdrew a glowing blue bottle, and upended it, savoring the mouthful of grape-flavored potion. Then she touched a void sigil.
Even with the potion’s energy augmenting her own, casting the spell was a near thing. It hollowed her out, drinking the last of the power residing in her chest. In its wake came a towering wave of exhaustion, knocking Voria to one knee. She grabbed the stabilizing ring, staring up at the scry-screen.
A swirling bubble of black-white energy sprang up around th
e ship, obscuring the dragons. Screaming faces swam through the white, the lingering echoes of spirits summoned by the spell. She found such magic disquieting, though in this instance the spirit ward was their only chance of survival.
A keening wail echoed through the ship, so loud it drowned out all other sound. Voria’s hands shot to her ears, and she gritted her teeth as she waited for the horrible cacophony to fade.
“What just happened?” Bord asked, rising from Kezia’s unconscious form. The lump on her forehead was gone, and her breathing was deep and even.
“I summoned a spirit ward around the ship. The wailing was the sound of the Wyrms using their breath weapons. Without the ward, we’d have had to deal with the spirits themselves.” Voria rose shakily to her feet, slipping from the matrix. She wasn’t strong enough to pilot in any case.
“You saved all our lives, ma’am.” Bord gave her a respectful nod, then seemed to realize who he was addressing. He snapped to attention, sketching a salute.
“At ease, Specialist.” She looked at at the scry-screen, laughing.
The spirit ward had faded, showing the space around them once more. White streaks, the signatures of the Ternus gauss cannon, swarmed around each of the dragons. Hunks of dense metal slammed into the Wyrms, peppering them with myriad small wounds. Individually, the wounds weren’t fatal, but if one accumulated enough of them, even a dragon would die.
The dragons were falling back, overwhelmed by the unexpected attack.
Voria took a deep breath, then stepped back into the matrix. There was one more matter she’d very nearly forgotten about in her haste to deal with the Wyrms: the Hunter was barreling toward an asteroid, and if she didn’t slow their progress the Wyrms wouldn’t have to kill them.
“Specialist, I need you back on that spelldrive.” Voria rested both hands on the stabilizing ring, smiling grimly as the dragons fell back before the Ternus fleet.
