Alliance

by Bruce S Larson

  The robust demon and Cargo Master, Zol, tumbled airborne into the bridge holding onto the power rod in its makeshift scabbard. One of his attending unit gripped the attached sling with arms and wings. The rest of Zol’s unit tumbled in after them. This rod was akin to Buran’s own rod, but retrieved from the Iron Work an adventure before. Zol’s demons attempted to steady his trajectory through the bridge. Anguhr grabbed rod.

  “Target loc—!” Solok began.

  A deafening THOOM! echoed through the entire ship followed by a shriek from arcane steel beams deforming. All decks went dark as the red aegis ebbed, but then flared again.

  “Proxis! Steer straight at the target world.” Anguhr ordered. “Fire everything to clear some space fore, port, and starboard! When I leap, turn about and fire the main batteries at what pursues! Then launch out of this system at full speed!”

  “Leap?” Solok barked, but Anguhr was already climbing from the bridge to the top deck exterior.

  “On course to target!” Proxis yelled. “Firing all weapons!”

  A small nova burst with the hellship at its center and vaporized all incoming worldlets and comets. Anguhr was already clear of his bridge and running at speed to his ship’s bow while gripping the power rod handle. He leapt from the crimson fire around his ship and into an abrading storm of radiation, plasma, and energized debris threatening to blast away his armor and scour his skin from bones. Greater forces were unleashed as he strained and pulled the rod from its makeshift scabbard.

  The storm vanished as a shockwave flashed from the released rod. Pure, white light and an intense release of information blinded Anguhr. He struck the icy surface of the target planet and held his grip. Swiftly, he raised the rod and plunged it into the bottom of his impact crater to strike the unseen rocky crust. Another small nova flashed in the system.

  Proxis took the opportunity given by Anguhr, and, unwittingly, one by Buran. The nearing gas giant was now a chaotic ball of roiling clouds, colliding storms, and gasses bleeding into space. But it held enough integrity to provide a jump point. Its gravity and the smashed hellship's mass connected. Acceleration increased. Space vanished.

  The hellship emerged at speed. It was still within the Nemorosan star’s heliosphere, but well away from its remade system of planetary maces and mauls. Solok held on. He gripped the stony base of Anguhr’s throne to stop himself from striking the massive black sword blade beside it. The sword held its position from being thrust down by Anguhr’s strength. Solok hoped the moaning ship held together as well. Even demons could not survive this anarchic system without it. And Lord Anguhr had potentially sacrificed himself for them all.

  For a moment, Proxis felt as if he could fly. There was no joy from being hurled upward. All the strength he ever possessed and perhaps ever could was spent holding onto his command dais that threatened to tear from the rippled bridge decking. The ship slowed. The aegis flared brighter in interstellar space. Its inertial compensation returned to the nominal stress of spaceflight. Internal gravity would need work to be restored. But, for now, the ship was safe.

  “Lord Anguhr?” Solok asked while still gripping the throne base.

  “I will scan,” Proxis said in a low voice as he pulled himself to the deck.

  “Did he—?” Solok stopped finishing his question.

  Proxis took a deep breath. His large, main screen flashed from black void to the distant star of the system that nearly killed them all.

  “Buran,” Proxis took a moment to mentally curse. “He calculated how to overwhelm one hellship, a massive feat. But he planned for only one ship capable of destroying worlds. Lord Anguhr saw that if there was the power of two ships, we could clear a space between hammering worlds and give the first ship, us, a fraction of time to fly from Buran’s sphere of hammers. With the power rod, he acted as the second ship and destroyed that target world. He gave us life. Again.”

  “Again.” Solok paused. He used his wings as limbs to right his body and face Proxis. “But he has been lost before.”

  “And recovered. And healed.” Proxis said as he entered commands on his dais. “But how many blows such as this can a General take?”

  The Ship Master’s last words sparked a quick rage in Solok. He curled his lips over his shark teeth to shout a rebuke, but stopped. He knew Proxis was not being defeatist, but realistic. He glanced at the empty throne, and then gripped the decking to go stand beside Proxis. Together they looked at the scan data as Proxis warily piloted the ship slightly nearer Buran’s hammer system.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Bahl felt free. He paid no mind that his current choice of action forced him and his followers to endure heat and hardship. Most living things would have burned to ash along their path. Bahl and his army marched on. For now, liberty was not hiding in shadows and trekking over the surface of literal Hell. To be truly free, and perhaps even know shade, they would need to kill the galaxy’s greatest evil. Bahl thought that was still the Dark Urge. He had no idea her progeny that his warriors carried was rising to surpass her power. Neither did he know it had taken the name Octuhr and allied with the fearsome Great Widow. Both watched them through Octuhr’s concealed mind and submerged eyes.

  To Bahl’s forces, the thing swaying between posts of stone on a cocoon of magic silk was immobile, near-dead weight. Some said they should toss aside. Bahl still thought there it had strategic value, if only for genetic or etheric codes they might rip away to use in hacking Hell’s systems. Inaht had seemingly changed her mind and agreed. The thing stayed with them as the subject of occasional stares. No one suspected stares also looked back.

  Bahl had directed his army toward Hell’s equator where more portals to the interior and vents for the Forge existed. They were less likely smashed by falling hellship wreckage. That deadly rain had ebbed, but Hell was still a deadly place, even for former gods and stellar emperors. The strike on the interior and final battle needed to happen, soon. The Dark Urge commanded more than Generals and demon hordes.

  Bahl took strength from the fact his army was an experienced force of many warriors from among several stars that he united. They marched across a desolate, forbidding land just as had many primitive armies on pre-technological worlds. Even without starship support, Bahl was certain they approached history’s greatest and perhaps final battle.

  Bahl held faith that whatever Hell sent against them, his army would endure. And from a portal at the equator, something did come. It was hesitant to crawl out, at first. But then ran at great speed over the searing wastes.

  Anguhr felt a hot breeze over his fallen body. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. Far away, he could see his toes. It was the only other time he had ever glimpsed them. The first time was in an improvised medical bay on his ship remade to house his unconscious form when he was recovered in space after Ursuhr’s ship detonated from damage inflicted by their duel across it. He could see his toes because Zaria had stripped his armor to tend his wounds. Now he was naked again. It was annoying. He was also not on his ship. This made him angry.

  He lay flat on fine, hot sand. It was as if his nudity on the rasping grains was meant to enrage him. If so, the plan worked. Anguhr leapt up to stand. There was no armor or weapons about. He clenched his fists, fusing trapped sand. The air was a mist of the corrosive dust. He blinked his fiery eyes, and saw another pair staring at him. The other giant was his armor. Rather, it was someone wearing his armor. A face of shadow with red eyes stared from inside his helmet. More outrage.

  “Return my armor!” Anguhr demanded.

  “No. It was never your armor, usurper!” was the reply.

  Anguhr growled.

  “You are testier than I imagined,” the thief said. “I thought all Generals were smoldering thinkers as well as warriors. I am.”

  “You are an annoyance.” Anguhr stared to see inside his helmet. “Where is this place and who are you?”

  “I am you. At least I was supposed to be the last General. Ultimately I am. But mo
ther Dark Urge took a shine to you, Azuhr and Sargon’s little bastard. So mother killed me. Well, she tried to kill me. But I lived. You are in an astral field of my creation. It is the site of your death. Now, before—”

  Anguhr, even weaponless and naked, charged. He struck his stolen chestplate and felt its wearer buckle.

  Anguhr awoke. He was in the modified medical bay he recalled. This felt true, for he felt great pain. It was a relief. Better still, he could not see his toes. He was still clad in his boots and armor. The power rod stood propped against a fiery bulkhead in its makeshift sheath of the same alloy as the Iron Work from where it was stolen. Uniting the two was his last act before entering that rare state of unconsciousness. The astral thief had struck then. He wondered if there was any truth to his words. He eased his head down, and growled.

  The Great Widow watched the silk that contained Octuhr’s mind shake as if it was a garden spider’s web struck by an eagle. The enchanted silk held the psychic impact. The Great Widow approached the vibrating strands with calm. She knew Octuhr planned to ambush Anguhr on an astral battlefield after the Great Widow noted she felt his consciousness submerge within his brain. Only great trauma to the General would allow her to sense him, as his unique origin and discipline held her probes at bay.

  Anguhr’s mind and body may reel from a tremendous assault, but his recovery was ever fast and his strength always great. She warned Octuhr. He scoffed, and attacked. Now he rebounded, as of struck by a great blow. The Great Widow decided to land one of her own.

  “And, General Octuhr, how did you fare against the sleeping Anguhr?”

  Octuhr said nothing. The web vibrated again. Now it was the rocking from the Great Widow as she contained her laughter.

  Proxis blinked. He looked at Gin’s face suddenly on his screen. His Hawaiian shirt and clear, blue skies behind him was brighter than the aegis flames curling across the bulkheads. In contrast, Gin’s expression was grave. He had cut into the hellship’s systems seemingly at will. Proxis looked back at him with a perturbed, demonic stare.

  “Proxis, I need Anguhr. I need your horde.”

  “I am Solok, Field Master.” The lead demon said and fired a scowl at Gin’s image. “Why have you attacked our communications?”

  “I do not attack, Solok. You know who I am. I am an ally. I need your horde to save Asherah. Where is Anguhr?”

  “The Destroyer attends duties, elsewhere. If you do not seek to fight us, then who fights you?”

  An image of deep space replaced Gin. A point of light expanded as the image zoomed in to reveal the corona of main engines behind the wide bow the Sword Wing.

  “We know this enemy. We will kill it for ourselves!” Solok barked. “Why would they attack you? Is Asherah not hidden as before?”

  “It is. But this enemy has knowledge from Hell and the Builders.”

  “Zaria tells you this?” Solok demanded.

  “No. Zaria is missing. My source is as knowledgeable. It’s the Great Widow.”

  “What?” Solok roared, and then bared his teeth. “Do you think we are fools? Perhaps she is their ally and seeks to trap us again! How do we know you have not allied with her?”

  “Solok, I do not betray you!” Gin reappeared. He now wore the armor similar to Zaria’s suit. A thunderstorm replaced the clear skies in the background. “I can see the ship and send you all the data I have. Zaria is gone. Only the forces she deployed before leaving can engage the incoming ship. But I fear their firepower is far too weak, and I cannot leave to find her while Asherah faces attack. Nor can I fight this ship by any means other than defense. The power this ship wields will likely overcome my efforts. Asherah, Eden will die. I need your help in stopping that! I need our alliance!”

  “And you shall have it,” the deep, rumbling voice came from behind Solok and Proxis. Anguhr entered the bridge.

  “Greetings and appreciation, General.” Gin said from the screen. “Now, please arrive quickly.”

  “We will be there when we can,” Anguhr said as he sat on his throne. “My ship has taken significant battle damage. I am loathe to admit that we may need your help as well.”

  “In the end, we always fight together, General.” Gin bowed. “Asherah will welcome and aid you.”

  Anguhr nodded, slowly. It had not come as he expected, nor from where he sought it, but he had found a solid alliance. It had always been there, near his greatest victory against Hell. Now he would return to fight along with forces from Asherah. He wondered if they both would endure the coming battle.

  The Great Widow descended on a near invisible line. She landed on a thick and new strand. She moved freely after placing the remnant Dark Urge in a quiet, distant region. She did not want her close to what she came to see for fear of some reaction within the malignant mind would spark consciousness. The spider’s eight legs moved in silent undulation as if performing a slow ballet over a long and narrow stage. She followed the strand to a unique cocoon held apart from the other intersections of her vast web.

  The cocoon was a lattice of joined polygons, a crystalline weave of five dimensions and more folded within. When the Great Widow looked in it, she needed to be cautious with her eyes from bright light. Nevertheless, she felt the emotion of a smile. Though it was a great risk, the trap had worked. What could never be caught now sat trapped in her web. The prey inside the esoteric architecture was a small sun or massive star, depending on where you observed. Zaria, though a captive, remained calm.

  “And what will you do, now, Great Widow? Your web may trap me, but your venom and fangs will burn on my skin.” Zaria said as arcs of plasma rose from her sun-like form.

  “Tsk, child. Though I am large, I don’t eat suns. The arcane energies of the Forge sustain me far better. I would like to talk. It has been so long, sunlight.”

  “And for so many reasons. You still serve Hell. You serve her, my dark sister and blackest force in creation.”

  The spider replied, slowly. “That is no longer true, for her.”

  “She has perished?” Eyes appeared in the sun and stared at the Great Widow.

  “No child, not perished, but she does now live on another plane.”

  “Then she lives, and is a threat.” Zaria’s eyes disappeared beneath sunspots.

  “She lives,” the spider paused. “But a threat? I am uncertain. There is a new force in the galaxy. You will find his origin fascinating.”

  “If it is the one I sought. I felt your mind out there, too. Stalking. I assume it was me you sought.”

  “No. I was stalking him, too.” The spider’s sigh rippled the web. “The new threat.”

  “Then free me and we shall end this threat.”

  “Perhaps. But please, child. Take some time outside the universe and speak with me.”

  Zaria flared brighter. “Time continues no matter where you hide in its dilation. And there is a force both you and I see threatens us all.”

  “True. But you are my captive, sunlight. Indulge this ancient soul, at least for a time. Would you deny me the pleasure a mother has when she sees her missing child?”

  When Octuhr first awoke, he was defenseless. His form has a thing of weird flesh far weaker than a fractured stone. Weapons were made from stone, and Octuhr sought to remake himself a force greater than them all. Through the Great Widow’s web and Buran’s quest, he gained knowledge for that end. Now he sought to use it as power.

  Mere, physical strength was not enough. For Octuhr, only omnipotence would relieve his rejection and abandonment. His body was still a helpless thing hiding his consciousness among enemies. In the utter inverse, his mind now had the power of mythic gods, and long-vanished super-intellects. He reached out with this transcending strength to make himself supreme across all creation.

  He searched through Hell’s data core and found a target. Buran’s revelations of controlling mass and accessing Builder machines combined with Octuhr’s own, malignant imagination. Now he employed his dark ideas. His mind jumped between Bui
lder sites in an ancient network that allowed him to access his distant target.

  A red, super giant star once caught the Builder’s attention. Such stars were the largest in size and power. They lived short lives before detonating as super novae. A girdle of extraordinary steel and technology constrained the massive star, but extended its life. It also distorted its shape into a huge, crimson ball encircled by a brilliant, red ring. The purpose was unknown. Perhaps it merely recreated a favorite shape.

  Octuhr sought to use the Builder machine to increase the stellar mass. He imagined the result as a long delayed and most destructive explosion seen in other galaxies. The ability to spark such annihilation would be a weapon far greater than a thousand hellships. The Builders’ created many odd, gigantic machines strategically located through the galaxy that he could now access. The past Age of Apocalypse had destroyed many potential challengers to his will. Those two factors made a new empire a certainty. It would be the Age of Octuhr, he mused. First, the super nova. Then, unchallenged galactic rule.

  Octuhr focused his thoughts within the force controls. He loosened the machine’s grip of physical and ethereal forces and instructed it to alter quantum particle spin to amplify the colossal star’s mass. The reaction began. Octuhr’s felt joy. Then, anger. The star expanded. The machine contracted.

  An astonishing explosion did occur, but the star’s core and machine collapsed inward. Their mass combined and became even greater. Octuhr fled while he could, but still felt intense heat and stress even through the quantum plane. He didn’t witness the light, plasma, and radiant particles rush back toward and ever-collapsing center. A singularity formed. Octuhr had destroyed the star, but nearly trapped his mind within a black hole.

  “You felt it. As did I.” Zaria said.

  The Great Widow paused. Vibrations of force, not only quantum emanations swayed her web.