by Vowron Prime
“Then that just leaves the problem of contacting the Resistance.”
“Ah, on that note, I have already begun the process,” Nova said. “When I seeded the Legatus’s plans on the station, I also dropped a packet using one of the encrypted Resistance protocols contained within Sareen’s crystal. If they wish to meet, they will broadcast a signal that I can decode.”
“You didn’t just give them our location?” Nina asked.
“No, it would have been far too risky, in case the Legatus finds the packet and is able to decrypt it. This way, neither we nor the Resistance are at risk if my message is discovered.”
“And once again, I’m amazed at your astounding competence,” MC said. “You can’t hire help this good.”
Nova turned beet red, but was grateful that neither sibling decided to tease her about it. “I have had Sanctuary’s passive sensors searching for such a signal, but there has been nothing as of yet.”
“Well, we’ve got our work cut out for us in the meantime. We’ll just have to sit tight and hope for a reach-out.”
The conversation moved on to less pressing matters while they finished up a delicious dessert of ice cream made sweeter by the taste of victory. The three friends then migrated to MC’s cozy living area, replete with background music and a gas fireplace to set the mood. There, they traded stories late into the night.
When the base’s lights dimmed, the evening winding down, they retired to their quarters with the knowledge that their every move was no longer under the scrutiny of an all-seeing eye.
Still, MC fully recognized that their current reprieve was nothing but a small opportunity—a hard-won chance to shore up their situation.
It was time to expand.
Twenty-Four
The following days passed in a whirlwind of activity, as Magnus helped Nova with the fusion reactor repairs. Nina had all but disappeared on them, holing up in her room to pore over the Zevan language.
Nova’s idea for procuring fresh water had worked like a charm. Her friends came to realize that there was almost no engineering-related task the winged beauty couldn’t do. Turned out being a two-hundred-year-old hacker with an eidetic memory had its perks.
Another fortunate discovery was that by merely having a portal open, the relocator’s ability bubble would fill with blood, albeit slowly; it’d taken him a couple of days to even detect the progress.
That learning made him reevaluate his strict no-portal-unless-necessary plan. Assuming he could deal with the persistent strain, of course. Thankfully, the water collection portal’s drain was so minuscule that he was hard-pressed to notice.
That just left the tunnel entrance makeover. MC had given it some thought, and at least for now, there wasn’t much reason to have the tunnel exit at ground level. It opened into a deep crater with sheer vertical walls that reached upwards for thousands of feet, so even if they wanted to deploy a tank or a Humvee, it wasn’t like they’d be all that useful. Impressive machines to be sure, but the relocator could take out the monsters in a fraction of the time. Having a ground-based opening would also require some way to allow for entry and exit while also keeping the monsters out. That’d be tricky.
MC had a better idea.
Since the entrance would primarily be used by his aircraft, it didn’t need to terminate anywhere near the crater’s floor.
Stepping out of the Hangar’s personnel exit into the dark tunnel that lay beyond, he teleported a hundred feet into the passage, then looked up and began relocating another tunnel that rose from the main exit's roof at a thirty-degree angle.
Once the passage was large enough, he had to teleport himself up onto the sloped passageway, holding himself in place with his cybernetic arm while he hollowed out more and more of the tunnel.
After a half-hour of boring at an upward angle, he broke through the crater wall, several hundred feet above the monsters skittering far below. Noticing the precipitous drop, he fused together a small platform of rock overlooking the crater, lining it with guardrails. If they ever needed to station sentries, this spot would make for the perfect nest.
Satisfied with his handiwork, he descended back down his new tunnel, relocating steps into the rock along the way. He encountered a problem at the end where it joined the one’s ceiling—with how large he’d made the original tunnel, the drop would be fatal to most.
Sure, he could teleport down, but he doubted there was anyone else who had his ability. So he cut a hallway into the rock off to the side before hollowing a spiral staircase out of the black granite down to the ground. When Midar told him that he was at the base of the original tunnel, he cut another hallway leading back into it.
They’d probably have to rig up some kind of elevator system later on if they wanted to station sentries up there, but stairs would suffice. MC returned to the CIC to find both Nina and Nova waiting for him with some good news.
“We are picking up an encoded Resistance signal—coordinates, and a date.”
“The time is set for tomorrow,” Nova said, pointing to the hologlobe that occupied the center of the CIC, “on the Shelfaran continent.”
“Can you show us where we are in relation to Kyron?” he asked.
Nova responded by manipulating the console to bring up a hologlobe of Kelruhn.
“As you are aware, Kyron is located to the far north of the Sorath Empire, which occupies most of the northern part of the greater Jaluun continent. The teleporter facility lies even farther north of that, in the arctic circle. Only a few nomadic Zevan subsist in that extreme climate.”
Nova then pointed farther down on the map. “To the south of Sorath lies Loadtem, Ardun, and a handful of other smaller nations. Below them is the Corridor of the Shadow Marshlands—where the Trilnyth roam. Failed experiments to create supersoldiers.
“At the other end of the swampmarshes is the Republic of Thesbea, a vast, sprawling country. Sorath and Thesbea have consumed most of the other countries on the continent—the former through conquest, and the latter via diplomacy. Predictably, they are the two main powers on the continent. “To the west is the Krotan Federation, an island nation spread over a sizable archipelago. Opportunistic pirates who haunt the seas all over Kelruhn, they are universally detested by other Zevan. Compared to Earth, Kelruhn has less landmass, though much of the planet is dotted with these islands, some of which are barely a few hundred feet across.”
The globe rotated to a location farther south of the equator, coming to rest upon an ashen, misshapen continent dotted with craters.
“This is where we are,” she said, pointing to a location near the middle of the landmass.
“As I mentioned, this unnamed continent was used for a failed terraforming experiment, long ago. As a result, the local ecosystems are in complete disarray, and the weather patterns range from extreme cold at the mountaintops to scorching lava eddies cradled deep within the thousands of craters. It is, however, the most tectonically stable landmass thanks to those very experiments.”
“Well, isn’t that just peachy? At least I won’t have to lose any sleep over dying in a random earthquake.”
“Indeed,” Nova responded, completely missing MC’s sarcasm. “A few Zevan have sailed here, but they’ve been few and far between. The Dyn do maintain a handful of research outposts on our continent, but nothing like their headquarters in the frozen north.
“The other major continent is located to the west of Sanctuary, and this is where the Resistance coordinates lie. This eastern side of this continent—named Shelfara by the indigenous Zevan—is dominated by Xefadur, a vast desert plateau. Ringing the desert are the Omnion Cliffs—gargantuan granite rock formations—along with a network of mesas, crevasses, and gullies covered by forested land. “The Tribal Hegemony of Xefadur occupies the entire high desert plateau. A powerful feudal state of various Zevan tribes, they have maintained peaceful relations with the surrounding countries for most of their history, and their location provides them natural isolation.
“To the west, we have the Logosati Matriarchy, a unique society built on a lush, forested land. Most of their civilization dwells within enormous hollowed-out World Trees that soar thousands of feet high. A network of magically assisted aerial bridges and canals connects these trees, and many Logosati live within the World Tree boughs, high off of the ground.”
“Shit! You hear that, Magnus? We’ve gotta go there.”
“If an opportunity arises, sure.”
“The Matriarchy and the nomadic tribes have maintained peaceful relations from time immemorial, though the mutated werebeasts in the area pose a constant threat to both.”
The globe zoomed in on the desert.
“The Resistance coordinates are at the edge of the Xefaduri desert, where it gives way to the Omnion Cliffs and their broken rock formations. From Sanctuary, it is a westward journey of around 2500 miles. Kyron is located far to our northeast, over 6000 miles away.”
Concerned, Nova locked eyes with MC. “Even Eiga would not be able to deliver us to these locations.”
“Eiga?” Nina asked.
“Uh, I kinda tamed a dragon. A big, vicious dragon, but he’s a good guy once you get to know him.”
Nina blinked. “You’re joking.”
“Dead serious,” MC replied.
“Well? Where is he!? I’ve got to see him! ASAP.”
“That’s the thing,” he said with a trace of guilt. “We couldn’t bring him along when we destroyed the teleporter, so I sent him far away where he’d hopefully be safe. The idea was always that we’d meet up.”
“How is he going to find us? I mean, Sanctuary is kinda built to be impossible to find.”
“Eiga is extremely sensitive to strong Radar pulses, which is how Magnus initially flew him,” Nova said. “If we broadcast a strong, continuous Radar signal, we should be able to attract him here, even over a long distance.”
MC shook his head. “That’s a no-go. That’d be like stripping naked and tattooing a giant shoot-me sign on our ass while screaming as loud as we possibly can. It’d be a suicide worthy of the Darwin Awards.”
Nina’s raucous laughter filled the CIC. “Welp, guess I’m gonna have to wait a bit. But you better not make me wait too long.”
“Sure, sis. Because it’s totally under my control.”
“Do you have any vessel that could make such a journey?” Nova asked.
MC grinned.
“Oh yeah. Yep, I think I have just the thing.”
“Oh no… Not that.”
“Yes, that.”
“Ready?” MC asked Nina, who nodded.
Standing on either side of the massive cloth, they pulled, yanking it off to reveal the sleek and angular jet-black craft that slept underneath.
With a pair of top-mounted arms that terminated in sizable VTOL turbines, the gunship looked like a hybrid between a falcon and an assault helicopter. With a thick fuselage tapering into twin tails, it instilled fear into the poor souls who found themselves its enemy.
Perhaps its most distinct feature was the complete lack of a pilot’s canopy. The nose of the vessel was sheer, vertical, and black—like the beak of an armored, metal hawk. Forged from a reinforced graphene alloy like the rest of the fuselage, its belly contained numerous rectangular panels that served as drop-doors.
“Nova, meet Reaver. An X75-A Experimental High-Mobility Heavy Gunship. A piece of tech I convinced the UFN I’d destroyed when I’d taken over the place, though I may have exaggerated a tad. This baby’s far too sexy to throw away,” he said, patting her matte-black hull.
Nova eyed the craft with suspicion. “And you say this is capable of long-distance flight? Those turbines do not appear as though they can propel the vessel very efficiently, and its form is hardly aerodynamic.”
“Oh, this one has a few tricks. Fret not, it’ll get us to where we need to go. The UFN royally fucked up when they commissioned this prototype. They designed it to get troops into hostile ground faster than any craft ever had before in the history of human flight. That itself would’ve been impressive, but they also wanted it to provide overwatch support for those troops after it had dropped off.”
He walked over to the rear and dropped the rear ramp, its hydraulics actuating to lower the slab of metal. “Capable of hot-dropping twenty soldiers into a hostile LZ, or five heavy troopers in powered suits, it is both heavily armored and armed. To start, it boasts dual forward-facing 20mm autocannons firing depleted uranium at 4,000 rounds a minute.”
Nina rolled her eyes as he continued his explanation, ushering them into the aft drop bay. Clearly, she’d heard the sales pitch before.
“But the real magic happens on its port side. They’re tucked way in the underbelly right now, but when deployed, we’ve got dual 40mm Equalizer Rail guns, and of course—the big, the bad, the only 155mm M777 Howitzer artillery, capable of firing high-explosive warheads once every single second. I’d love to see your chariots go up against one of these guys. And as if all that wasn’t enough, it’s got a full complement of air-to-ground missiles and countermeasures too. Oh yeah, and active stealth and active camouflage, same as the suits.”
“That all sounds very impressive, even if I am not familiar with most of those terms. Then why did you say it was a failure?”
“Cost. Just one of these babies would bankrupt most militaries. The two-inch-thick graphene alloy armor alone costs more than the GDP of a small country. They scrapped the project and toted this bad boy out here to do some experiments to help inform future projects before dismantling it. With the nuclear war, that never happened. Their loss, my gain.”
His hands on his hips, MC said, “So, what do you say we all go for a ride?”
Lost in her own world, Nova made her way to the forward bridge, examining every surface in great detail. She seemed to be especially interested in the cockpit, with its centrally forward-mounted pilot’s seat, and the two co-pilot seats flanking it on either side, slightly behind.
Just aft of the bridge were two rows of inboard-facing jump seats that ran half of the length of the interior. Behind those, the roof-mounted suit latches hung, designed to house and drop powered suits through the bomb-bay doors embedded into the floor.
“What a curious craft. I admit this is the first time I have seen anything like this. You truly believe this will get us to our destination in safety?”
MC laughed. “Yeah, trust me.”
She turned away from exploring the ship and faced him. “Then I have one request. May we stop at Kyron first? The empress needs to be made aware of my peoples’ plans to convert the Zevan into a mindless army. She needs to take action immediately.”
MC mulled it over. A trip to Kyron would take them right next to Dyn Central, and he really didn’t want to risk being anywhere near there. That said, it would give them an opportunity to recruit some Zevan troops.
“Magnus, if you do that, you might want to drop one of your portals there so you can pop up whenever you need to. Seems like a useful thing.”
He shook his head. “Too much of a security risk. The Harvesters could use the portal to attack Sanctuary. It’d be an open invitation to our doorstep.”
“You would not need to keep the portal within Sanctuary,” Nova suggested. “We could bury it underground some distance outside the crater. Nothing would be able to come through; they would encounter nothing but a solid wall of rock. And besides, you can cut the connection on demand, so I do not see the risk. Instantaneous travel to Kyron would be an incredible convenience.”
He gave Nova’s words some thought. “I suppose that’s true. Being able to deliver troops right to the enemy would be a massive tactical advantage. Depending on the mental drain.”
After a moment of deliberation, MC acquiesced. “I’m willing to give this a shot, but we’ll keep the portal small for now as a test. If it goes well, I can always remake it into a larger one.”
And, as the angel said, he could always sever the wormhole if anything went awry.
“Magnus, I have only one set of clothes!” Nova complained.
“Nah, you can use some of my stuff. We’re about the same height, even if your proportions are totally different,” Nina offered.
“I brought my entire wardrobe when I moved in, so feel free to use anything in there, sister. Though, I won’t be held responsible for any respiratory issues you may have.”
“S-sister!?” Nova said, blushing furiously.
She remained that way as MC escorted the two out back onto the hangar’s deck, where he left them to their antics. There was shit to pack, hypersonic gunships to fuel.
Twenty-Five
“This craft seems quite primitive. Are you sure it will be safe?” Nova nervously strapped into her six-point harness behind MC’s pilot seat. The angel looked anything but comfortable with her bound wings contorted awkwardly against the tight chair.
Already seated, Nina waved a hand. “Relax, Magnus uses this thing for his grocery runs. It’s super reliable.”
“Only because I maintain it that way. You wouldn’t believe the amount of upkeep this bird requires.”
The girls had taken a few hours to get ready, giving MC ample time to pack and stow their packs. He’d also included some other goodies, including serrated pocketknives and larger full tang combat knives for defense. Nina got a semi-automatic Glock rail pistol with several magazines of ammo, while Nova’s bag contained an old-school Colt .38 revolver. Simple and reliable.
With their bags packed, MC moved on to fuel the gunship and perform preflight checks. Electricity powered the twin turbines, so they were ready to go. But the magic behind the craft’s ‘high-mobility’ title was good old-fashioned jet fuel. The liquid was thankfully similar to diesel, so it stored well inside the base’s sealed tanks. Still, Sanctuary’s fuel reserves would eventually run out—an inevitability that concerned him greatly.
