The Sac'a'rith

by Vincent Trigili

  “Still, can’t they use their powers to fight the creatures?” I asked.

  “Sure, and if one or two of them had real training the station would be safe by now. Since they probably have no idea what they are really doing, they are likely to be barely holding on,” he said. He must have seen the confusion on my face because he continued, “Think of it this way: if I were to toss someone in the water who does not know how to swim very well, they would struggle and panic. They might make it out safely eventually, but it would be a long, hard road for them. Now, if I taught them the proper way to swim first then swimming to safety would be a nonevent. In the same way, these magi are struggling to reach the shore.”

  That made some sense, but I was unsure about this mission. I watched him check his account on the display and caught my breath at the balance. I did not know it was possible for anyone to have that much money.

  “Good, it looks like they’ve paid up. Strap yourself in for the jump. We need to move fast,” he said.

  “Fast? Why?” I asked, as I obeyed.

  “Because, all else aside, I’d like to rescue those people if possible,” he said.

  That comment silenced me. Until now I had seen him as a cold, hard warrior when fighting Resden and Donovan, and as an arrogant, hard negotiator. I had never seen any indication that he cared about people at all. I was not even sure he had any feelings. The utter emotionless of his manner as he blew up that trade hauler and killed probably hundreds of men did not fit in with this sudden desire to assist trapped military officers.

  Petra 29 was a good five days’ travel from where we were. I could not help but think about what it would be like to be trapped on a station where the dead get back up and attack you, and wraiths fly around freely trying to turn you into walking dead. I was certain my sanity would not hold up under those conditions. I spent those five days mainly learning more about the different kinds of dead things we might meet, and doing physical therapy for my arm in order to regain its full strength.

  As we approached Petra 29 I could see that, unlike the previous station, this one had taken serious external damage. The damage did not look critical, but I was not sure it could take another attack in the condition it was in. It was surrounded by a large debris field that appeared to contain the remains of countless attackers. “Looks like a battle took place,” I said.

  “Yes, and that is odd,” said Narcion as he worked the controls at his station. He was staring intently at something that was on the screen. I could not make it out from where I was sitting, but I assumed it to be information about the debris field around us.

  “Odd? How so? The station was taken over by hostile forces, so a battle should be expected, shouldn’t it?” I asked.

  “Not in this case. These creatures do not fly spacecraft, or at least have never before done so. Typically they are summoned by someone in an attempt to control them and use them to attack their enemies,” he said.

  “So you are saying the local government deliberately summoned these creatures?” I asked in amazement.

  “That is the most likely scenario; possibly intending to use them against Resden, or one of the other powerful consortiums,” he said.

  That made some sense, but seemed extremely foolish in the light of events. Then another thought occurred to me. “What if the creatures were summoned by the attackers?”

  “That is a reasonable possibility. Based on what the ship’s scanners are showing me, I think there were two or three separate attacks over a period of several weeks. Judging by the condition of the station, I don’t think they made it through the defenses, but it is hard to say for sure.”

  I looked back at the station as Narcion brought our ship in for a docking run. We had all the appropriate security codes, so we had nothing to fear from the station’s defenses; the current inhabitants of the station were another story, however. I had a bad feeling as we approached the station; fear was souring my stomach like rotted meat. I unconsciously rubbed the place where my shoulder had been wounded in the last battle. It was almost completely back to normal, but a phantom pain remained and gave me a twinge as we approached the station.

  “Once we are docked, we must try to contact the survivors and let them know we are here. I would hate either them or us to get caught in crossfire, so we need to coordinate any movements we make. That will make things harder, but we will have to put up with it,” he said as we completed our approach.

  During whatever battle the station had fought, its docking arms had been damaged beyond use. This meant we had to fly into one of the station’s internal docking bays that would normally be used only if a ship needed to be serviced in a pressurized bay.

  Soon after we docked he gained access to the station’s internal communications array and attempted to raise someone on the station. It seemed like a long while before anyone replied, but eventually we heard a male voice. “We read you. What is your status?”

  “My name is Narcion, and my partner and I will be removing the creatures that have you trapped. I need to know your status and whereabouts.”

  “Command told us you would be coming, but be warned that these are not normal creatures. Blasters do not work on them. I have held them off with my spells, and Ron’s shields seem to keep them at bay, but beyond that nothing seems to hurt them,” said the voice.

  “I have dealt with them before, but thanks for the warning. How many of them are there?” asked Narcion.

  “We have not seen more than four at a time, but I cannot be certain there are not more. Right now we have a fortified position near the central computer core. I could scout for you … ”

  “No,” interrupted Narcion. “I need you and Ron to keep your companions alive. Four of these creatures are enough of a problem without adding any other complications. The computer core is a good location for you. Stay there and wait for my next contact. Depending on how many there are, we might want to drive them towards you and catch them in crossfire. Can I count on you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Do not hesitate to call if you need help. These creatures are nasty,” said the voice.

  After that Narcion signed off, turned to me, and said, “Did you find it odd that he never identified himself?”

  I had not even noticed, but he was right. I would have expected him to give his name and rank at least. “Yes; what do you think it means?”

  “I can’t be sure, but for the moment we should assume we cannot trust him. If your theory that the attackers summoned the creatures is correct, he might very well be with the attackers and not the survivors.” After saying that, he locked the controls on the bridge and headed towards the cargo bay.

  Once there he pulled out some heavier weapons and handed me an assault rifle that I did not recognize. “Let’s bring some toys, in case we have more than merely the dead to play with.”

  He also took some grenades, explosives, and other equipment I did not recognize. He split the weapons between us and made sure I had some basic knowledge about everything we were carrying, and some idea how to use them. Once that was done, he reminded me that these weapons would be useless against our primary target and to stick to my knives and claws for them.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “No, but waiting longer won’t change that, so let’s go,” I said. There were potentially people to save this time and I tried to focus on that instead of on the creatures we were about to fight. That horrible feeling in my stomach only got worse as I walked through the airlock and disembarked from the ship into the hangar.

  I followed as Narcion walked across the strangely empty hangar of Petra 29. It stood in stark contrast to what we had seen outside the station. While outside there was wreckage everywhere, in here there was nothing. It looked as if we had boarded an abandoned space station, but the chill running down my spine let me know that we were not alone.

  Chapter Five

  Narcion opened the exit door of the hangar and cautiously moved thr
ough it and out of my sight. I followed quickly, as I dared not risk our being separated, and found him standing in the hall looking off into space.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Something is different here, and I cannot place it,” he said.

  I had no idea of his meaning, but I was sure that he looked unusually nervous and I did not like the fact. “Like what?”

  He looked at me and said, “I suppose I should say it is nothing so that you don’t worry about it, but that would make me a bad teacher. There is something different, something … ”

  He never got the chance to finish that sentence because just then two men came running down the hall towards us, dressed in standard issue military uniforms. Narcion spun quickly with his weapons drawn, but then hesitated and did not shoot.

  “Help!” the men yelled as they approached us.

  Just behind them, I saw what was giving them chase. It was an insectoid creature with blood dripping from its mouth and limbs. I took careful aim with my assault rifle, slowing my breathing just as Narcion had taught me and gently squeezed the trigger. A single blast passed between the two running men and slammed into the creature behind them. The force of the impact and resulting explosion sent the creature spinning across the floor until it hit a wall and stopped. It did not get back up.

  “Excellent shot,” said Narcion.

  That comment stunned me in a way I could not define. It was the first compliment I had ever received. I certainly could not think of a response, but fortunately I was spared from embarrassment as the men had just reached us and collapsed against the wall in exhaustion.

  “Thanks,” one of them managed to spit out.

  “Who are you?” Narcion asked.

  “Sergeant Sam, sir,” said the shorter one as he caught his breath.

  “Sergeant Sunto, sir,” said the other, whose unkempt, long blond hair seemed out of place for someone in a military uniform.

  “I am Narcion, and this is my partner Zah’rak,” said Narcion.

  “Sir, I mean no disrespect, especially after you just saved our lives, but what are you doing here?” asked Sergeant Sunto.

  “Your command has employed us to come and rescue this station,” said Narcion. “How many other survivors are there?”

  “Sir, there are about a hundred of us hidden in various places around the station. We detected a landing, so we were coming to warn whomever had landed. Presumably that was you?” asked Sergeant Sam.

  “Yes. Do you know someone named Ron?” asked Narcion.

  “No, sir. There is no one here of that name. Why?” asked Sergeant Sunto.

  “When we landed we tried to contact survivors, and the person we spoke to said that he and Ron were held up near the computer core,” said Narcion.

  “Sir, we lost the core to the invaders weeks ago. If anyone contacted you from there, I would assume it was the enemy,” said Sergeant Sunto.

  “Command told us they had sent some magi to help you. Where are they?” asked Narcion.

  “Yes, sir. Four of them came, and two yet live. They are getting ready to make a push to retake Engineering.”

  “What holds Engineering? More of those?” asked Narcion, pointing to the body of the creature.

  “No, sir. Those wander the halls looking for stragglers to pick off. Engineering is being held by something much worse.”

  “Creatures that can float and are immune to blasters, perhaps?” asked Narcion

  “Yes, sir. Are you familiar with them?” asked Sergeant Sunto.

  “They are the reason we are here. We must get to Engineering before your team launches its attack. Can you take us?” asked Narcion.

  “Sir, we could, but how do we know you are not working with the invaders?” asked Sergeant Sam.

  “Here,” said Narcion as he handed over a document.

  “This looks valid, but without the computers we can’t be sure,” he said.

  “Your friends are about to charge into a fight they can’t win. We can save them, but we need you to tell them to wait for us to reach them. Otherwise they will all die, and if you really have been on this station for a few weeks, then you know what happens to men these creatures kill,” said Narcion.

  They turned and looked at each other, and then one pulled out a communication device and said, “This is Sergeant Sunto to Basecamp, do you read me?”

  “Basecamp here. Have you made contact?” said a voice on the other end.

  “Yes, Basecamp. Please hold off on operation Pierce the Heart until we return,” said Sergeant Sunto.

  “Why?” asked Basecamp.

  Sergeant Sunto paused and looked at Sergeant Sam, who shook his head slightly. Then he said into the speaker, “Basecamp, just hold off. We will be there soon to explain,” and then cut the connection.

  “Something is wrong,” I said without thinking.

  “Yes, sir. They did not use any of the proper code words, and there is no operation Pierce the Heart,” said Sergeant Sunto.

  “Then we can assume communications are compromised and we must move fast to reach your team before it is too late,” said Narcion.

  “This way, gentlemen,” said Sergeant Sunto as he and Sergeant Sam hurried back the way they had come.

  We ran through the long, empty corridors with little caution. Sam and Sunto seemed to be very concerned about their team. The journey was largely uneventful, but I had a persistent feeling that we were running right into a trap. Narcion must have shared it, as he had me fall back quite a way as a rearguard. This separation would make it much harder to catch both of us at once if we fell into a trap.

  I watched Narcion duck as he rounded a corner. I stopped short of it and waited to see what was up. When I heard muffled speech I slowly peered around the corner and saw Narcion crouched behind a barrier with the two sergeants.

  When I had joined them, Narcion said, “That door ahead is Engineering, but there is no sign of their team.”

  “Do you think they were overcome?” I asked.

  “No bodies, so it is possible,” Narcion said grimly.

  I looked down the hall and saw a lot of scorch marks on the walls and the door. There had definitely been a fight here. “I assume we need to get through that door?”

  “Yeah, not a very good proposition from here. If they are in there, they will have the advantage of surprise and terrain,” replied Narcion.

  “There is another entrance, but it is set up similarly,” said Sergeant Sunto.

  “Do you think your team might have retreated from here and headed there?” I asked.

  “No. If they retreated, they would have gone to the safe area we have established,” said Sergeant Sam.

  “Okay, you two go there. Zah’rak and I will take care of this,” said Narcion.

  “Are you sure? We could get one of the magi and bring them here,” said Sergeant Sunto.

  “No, I need them to protect you and your team. How many of the floating creatures do you think there are?” asked Narcion.

  “Three or four at an estimate,” said Sergeant Sam.

  “Thanks; now go quickly,” ordered Narcion. They hesitated and almost said something, but a look from Narcion silenced them and they ran off. He told me to take cover as he threw two magnetic grenades down the corridor.

  I was already behind the barrier, but I crouched down as a loud thud marked the sound of the magnetic grenades attaching to the door. Not long after that a deafening explosion ripped through the corridor and I felt its intense heat pass over my head. As soon as I thought it was clear I looked over the barrier and saw that most of the door was gone, then two of those creatures came flying towards us at high speed.

  Narcion was already in motion, and with both his knives drawn he catapulted himself over the barrier towards the one on the left. Following his lead I dropped my gun, drew my knives, and launched myself at the one on the right.

  Our attack caught them off guard, which made
it easy for both of us to strike the first blow. The creatures let out a horrifying scream as our knives sliced through whatever their bodies were made of, fatally wounding them. As I pushed through my target I hit the floor in a roll, coming up ready to fight whatever came next out of the door, but nothing came.

  I looked back to see Narcion picking up my gun. “Never leave a weapon behind. You may not get a chance to go back for it.”

  “Sorry,” I said. I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid.

  He slowly moved towards the door and I hung back a few steps. As he neared what was left of the door he pulled out another grenade, this one much smaller than the others, and tossed it into the room. Instinctively I flattened myself against the wall, using what was left of the doorframe to shield me from the blast. It must have been a concussion grenade because I felt a tremendous shockwave come out of the room, but there was no heat this time.

  Just as it passed us, Narcion yelled something and charged into the room. I counted to three as he had trained me and then followed him in.

  “Clear,” he said as I entered.

  Looking around I saw no sign of any enemies. “Where are the rest of them? And why have we not encountered any walking dead?”

  “Both very good questions,” he said. “Let’s see what the computers can tell us. Guard the broken door while I work.”

  I moved to what used to be a door but was now more of a large gaping hole, and watched the hall. Narcion worked away at the computers for a while. Eventually I heard him say, “This is Engineering, calling Central Computing. Can anyone hear me?”

  “Yes, sir!” came a reply.

  “Great. With whom am I speaking?” he asked.

  “Private Milstone, sir!” was the response.

  “Excellent. Private, can you give me your status?” asked Narcion.

  “Yes, sir! There are fifty-three of us here. A magus has been using his shields to secure this area, but we are under heavy assault. None of our weapons seem to work on the three beings that led the attack, and most of the forces seem to be made up of walking dead versions of the crew of this station, sir!”