Space Pirate Charlie: The Dragon Mage Book 2

by Scott Baron

  Hunze took his hands in hers. “You freed me. You are a good man.”

  “Really, I’m not.”

  “You are,” she repeated, and the way she looked at him when she said it made him almost want to believe her.

  Bawb the Geist shook his head, clearing his mind. A battle was afoot, and he needed all of his wits and considerable skills if he expected to survive.

  “The fighting is near. Come, you must hide.”

  The young Ootaki woman took his hand and followed him back to her container. Bawb carefully sealed her inside, then moved it behind their other supply boxes for better protection. Then he ran to join the fight.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Charlie felt a flood of relief when he saw the pale assassin race up to join the battle.

  “Where were you?”

  “Busy,” the Wampeh replied, quickly casting a flurry of spells at the rapidly approaching Council troops.

  “Not cool, running off like that.”

  “I had things to do,” he replied. “And you should know, the Council’s doomsday weapon is no more. Well done, Pirate. Your comrades struck true. I merely finished the task.”

  Marban ceased firing a moment to slap him on the back. “Well done, my pointy-toothed friend!” he said with glee, then resumed firing both human and magical weapons.

  Bawb assessed the forces growing near. They were falling in great numbers, but they had the men to spare and would eventually overrun their position.

  “We are in an untenable position. Perhaps a hasty retreat is in order. I have procured a transport,” he said.

  “Not an option,” Charlie replied. “The Council ships are positioned in a way that blocks any attempts at flight. It just doesn’t move fast enough.”

  “Then it is only a matter of time,” the assassin said plainly.

  Charlie racked his mind. They couldn’t flee, but they were so limited in fighting resources. If only the ship had power, maybe they could come up with something, anything, to sway the tide. Suddenly, a light bulb flashed on in his mind.

  “Bob, do you still have that Drook power thing? The Drookonus, I think you called it?”

  “I do,” he replied, pulling the freshly recharged Drook-powered rod from his armlet.

  “I need to borrow it.”

  Without a second thought, Bawb handed the invaluable tool to his human friend. Charlie had proven himself repeatedly. He hoped whatever he had in mind this time would prove worth the expenditure. In any case, they’d all be dead soon enough, and it was far better to use the power and die than leave a fully charged Drookonus for the Council to capture.

  Charlie pocketed the magical device and handed Bawb his machine gun.

  “Okay, you guys. Hold them as long as you can,” he said, then took off at a run––right into the gaping hole in the wrecked ship’s hull.

  “Where in the world is he going?” Marban asked. “The fight’s out here.”

  “I have no idea,” Bawb replied.

  The battle raged on for a solid half hour, Marban and the Geist fighting side by side, both using a combination of weapons in tandem. The Council forces had moved far closer and were chipping away at the pirate defenders, using their downed ground-level transports for cover as they bombarded their opponents.

  One of the stronger casters leapt from cover, a major attack spell already on his lips as his slaap powered up. His head exploded in a mist of blood and bone.

  “I must admit, these are rather effective devices,” Bawb said, admiring his handiwork.

  Marban laughed merrily. Even in the face of certain death, he seemed to revel in the fight.

  “You’ve adapted to these weapons well, my friend. And so quickly.”

  “Necessity is a powerful motivator,” Bawb replied with a toothy grin.

  Soil filled the air as an enormous explosion rocked the far side of the ship.

  “Looks like they have reinforcements,” Marban noted with a sigh. “It is only a matter of time.”

  “Agreed. But we will meet a glorious end, will we not?”

  “Indeed,” he agreed with a strangely satisfied smile. “If we have to go, this is quite a way to––”

  The ship shuddered violently. So violently that the surviving defenders and the wounded were forced to scramble back from the hull.

  “What in the worlds are they doing now? What kind of attack is this?” Marban wondered aloud.

  He got an answer when the topmost portion of the ruined ship burst outward, sending a shower of debris flying.

  “Oops, sorry about that. Watch your heads down there,” Charlie’s voice boomed out.

  All eyes turned upward, and despite their years of hard fighting and familiarity with the many faces of death and destruction, even the most hardened soul felt a primal reaction at the sight before them.

  The giant mech climbed quickly out of the ruined ship’s hull, jumping to the surface with a thundering boom as its enormous feet shook the ground. It was incomprehensible to the men of both sides, and, for a moment, everyone stopped their fighting, staring at the towering metal man in awe.

  Then it turned toward the attacking Council forces and charged straight at them, its mighty legs pistoning, driving it forward like a rumbling juggernaut, ready to demolish anything in its path. The terrified men scattered, utterly unsure what to do in the face of a giant, metal man.

  Charlie nimbly maneuvered through their fleeing ranks, smashing their ground transports to bits, kicking and stomping all who tried to cast a spell against him. This was so much different from his time in the simulator. He was always a mediocre pilot, but this was something new. The mech felt faster. Stronger. Better. Connected to him on a visceral level. And better yet, the Drookonus now powering the mech did far more than simply activate its systems. He had access to power. Charlie felt almost a part of the machine.

  Once he had managed to cast the right spells to tie the device in to the mech’s systems, Charlie found he could redirect a fraction of the stored Drook energy to bolster his own spells as well, channeling them through the ship’s exoskeleton, even though the Earth-born craft was never designed for such a purpose.

  Laughing merrily while strapped securely in the pilot’s seat, Charlie went on a cathartic rampage, smashing the enemy’s forces like a playing child on a sugar high. It was awesome, and in mere minutes, the entirety of the remaining members of the Council ground forces had scattered, fleeing back toward the relative safety of their ships. Ships where Visla Maktan and his associates were monitoring the unfolding events with great displeasure.

  The men ran, and ran, moving as fast as their legs would take them. Being on foot, it would take some time to reach them, but Charlie––despite the adrenaline high of his victory––knew far better than to pursue them. Instead, he turned back to join his friends and allies.

  The mech settled onto the ground and powered down. Charlie popped the hatch and climbed to the ground, only to be met with an enormous embrace from his scarred pirate friend.

  “A moving statue! An actual moving statue!” Marban roared with an enormous laugh. “You surprise me yet again, little brother!”

  “Yes, even for you, that was, impressive,” the Geist agreed.

  “You didn’t say it could do that,” Leila added. “All you said was it was a tool of sorts.”

  Charlie grinned. “Well, it wasn’t designed for that, but necessity is the mother of invention.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Marban said. “Did you just come up with it?”

  Charlie paused.

  “Why, yes. Yes, I did,” he said with an amused grin. “Now come on, I think we earned a little respite. We’d best use it to plan our next course of action.”

  Far across the wasteland, a furious Visla Maktan paced the deck of his personal cruiser. This was not how things were supposed to go. The Council had never suffered such a humiliating defeat, and at the hands of a mere handful of pirates and slaves at that. The fury building inside him
grew, even as he forced himself to affect the image of a calm leader.

  The human slave was proving far more resourceful than expected. Overwhelming force wasn’t an option. Not if he hoped to recapture his Zomoki. And with a rebellion now fully underway, spreading Council forces thin across dozens of systems, they needed its power even more than ever.

  No, this would require different tactics than the Council’s standard fare, and he had an idea that just might work.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The Council had taken hours to come up with a new plan of attack, and the rebels, though pinned down, were beginning to feel a glimmer of hope. They had lost the Zomoki, but in its place had a monstrous, moving statue. One that fought well, they were pleased to note.

  How Charlie had managed to merge the powers of both galaxies was something of a mystery to Bawb, as well as the others.

  “You say the Drookonus powered your ‘mech’?”

  “Yeah. It took some doing to get it to link to my systems, but once I figured out the basics, the rest sort of fell in place.”

  “But it should not be capable of such a thing,” Bawb said, perplexed.

  “Well, there’s a saying on my planet. ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’”

  “Why would I look a gift in its mouth?”

  “To check the teeth.”

  “But why would I not check the teeth?”

  “Because it’s a gift.”

  “How does this relate to the dental condition of this ‘horse’ of which you speak? Your people have some truly strange customs, Charlie.”

  The human was working on a clever retort when a barrage of incoming spells and enchanted projectiles began raining down upon them.

  “Take cover!” Marban yelled as they ducked under the protective shell of the wrecked ship.

  “You mind?” Charlie asked.

  “Please,” Bawb replied, handing him the Drookonus once again.

  Charlie darted to the mech and climbed in, silently casting the web of spells that tied the magical power device into the giant machine. Moments later, it lurched to its feet, a faint shimmer to its exterior where Charlie had figured out a way to direct even more magical power to defensive spells.

  “Let’s get some!” Charlie shouted over the external speakers, then ran out to meet the oncoming assault.

  It was a mixed bag attack. Some aerial, but mostly terrestrial once again. It seemed a great deal of effort was being placed at one specific point, as if their attackers hoped to pierce the defenses by sheer force and numbers.

  Charlie and the rebel pirates stepped up to the task, pushing them back, while the Rixana dropped sporadic magic-dampening payloads from high altitude, their dispersal being unnoticed until they were just above the Council ships and too late to counter. It wouldn’t stop the powerful wizards from casting, but it would diminish the harm they could do to their friends on the ground.

  The battle raged, but seemed almost evenly matched. It was looking like the fight could go on for hours.

  Just as Visla Maktan had anticipated.

  A sleek shimmer ship darted around the perimeter, going wide before slowly approaching from the rear. By their very design, the vessels were unable to do much damage, being used solely for reconnaissance due to their inability to carry much weight while maintaining their shimmer camouflage. But it was enough.

  The ship pulled next to the downed Zomoki, its hatch silently opening and discharging its lone passenger.

  Malalia Maktan had come with orders to charm the human and stun him, then signal her father on his skree for reinforcements. She would then kill as many of the others as she could before the main forces arrived. It was her opportunity to redeem herself for what he had deemed her epic failure in letting him escape with the Zomoki in the first place.

  “Dead, and cold,” she said quietly, running her hands along the inert dragon’s form. “Father, the Zomoki is no more,” she said into her skree.

  “What?” he said in shock. “What happened to it? I need that power.”

  “I do not know, but it is cold and hard as stone. What do you wish me to do?”

  “Complete your task. The moving statue must be controlled by a powerful caster. Once you disable the human slave, find the one responsible for its motions and end them as well.”

  “As you wish, Father,” she said, then set off to finish her mission.

  All eyes were on the fighting going on between the two sides, leaving the visla’s daughter relatively free to approach from the rear. If she could find Charlie and disable him, the rest would fall easily from her vantage point.

  A shrill barking erupted to her left.

  “What in the worlds––?”

  Baloo, tied up far away from the hostilities had taken note of the intruder, and did not like her one bit, from his reaction.

  “Silence, animal,” she hissed, raising her slaap and casting a killing spell.

  “Klaatu endatha!” a woman’s voice said from nearby, dispersing the spell and redirecting its energy harmlessly back at Malalia.

  Leila stepped into view, one of Bawb’s large konuses on her wrist. “Stay away from Baloo, you bitch!”

  Malalia laughed.

  “The groundskeeper’s daughter, of all people. Oh, how delightful. “Binari pa!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Binari pa!”

  Leila pulled aside her lapel and grinned.

  “So, the slave managed to rid herself of her collar, I see. No matter,” Malalia said, then began casting a flurry of attacks.

  Leila was limited in her knowledge of fighting spells, and Bawb and Charlie had been primarily focusing on teaching her defensive spells, telling her you must learn to survive before you learn to strike back. At the moment, it was something she was very grateful for.

  Malalia saw her tactic and laughed. “You are wearing a powerful konus, yet you can’t even cast a proper offensive spell. Oh, my dear, how pathetic. This is going to be fun.”

  Leila continued casting as fast as she could. It was the same series of defenses over and over, the words and intent flowing from her lips easier with each repetition. Malalia didn’t seem perturbed at all, toying with her, letting her block the spells, looking forward to eventually landing a killing blow.

  Then something unexpected happened. Leila added a counterattack spell into the mix. An unusual one. Charlie’s favorite.

  “Dipangu!” she shouted, flinging a foul fecal smell into Malalia’s face.

  The visla’s daughter was taken by surprise, and Leila used that window to draw within reach. Malalia instinctively cast a protective spell, aimed at stopping any magical attack.

  That’s when Leila punched her in the face. Hard.

  The powerful denna saw stars, though she wasn’t looking up into space. Then the former slave punched her again, a bloody gush springing from her nose. She tried to cast but couldn’t enunciate through the gagging blood in her mouth. Leila didn’t relent, proceeding to beat the ever-loving shit out of her former tormentor.

  “And that’s for trying to hurt Baloo!” she said, landing a ferocious kick to Malalia’s jaw, knocking her soundly unconscious.

  Meanwhile, Visla Maktan and his supporting Council emmiks and mesters moved forward, pressing the assault now that they had word the Zomoki was no more.

  Charlie’s mech was making a good showing of it, but it was definitely taking a beating. Soon it simply wouldn’t be able to hold up to the abuse any longer. The defensive spells, however, were strong, somehow reinforced and amplified by the metal of the ship. Perhaps it was an element from Earth’s foundries that reacted with the Drookonus so strongly. He wasn’t sure, but if they survived this, he was quite curious to discover why.

  The battlefield was littered with bodies, the fighting men spread out in battle. Bawb was a dervish of violence, darting through the enemy ranks, appearing, killing, and vanishing, living up to his deadly nickname.

  A massive blow struck the mech’s left
leg. A small conveyance had been smashed into him like a battering ram, and like it or not, he was going down. Charlie greatly amplified the spells protecting the metal man as he fell, and in so doing, unintentionally saved his own life.

  “Azuro namana verata,” Visla Maktan and the other magic-wielders in the fleet simultaneously cast as one. It was a spell not meant for combat, but the visla had learned a thing or two about asymmetrical warfare in his days. The spell was designed to freeze livestock for later use. With a slight alteration of the spell, the Council wizards had frozen nearly half of the rebel pirates, along with a few of their own men.

  But that wasn’t the end of it. They followed up with another mighty spell, one that turned the ground into quicksand, slowly swallowing the frozen men one by one.

  Charlie grabbed the Drookonus, punched out of his harness, and jumped from the mech, diving hard for safety. And he almost made it, landing just shy of solid ground. Behind him the mech was already sinking into the soil, and to his horror, Charlie felt his legs pulling down as well, as his hands scraped desperately at the solid edge.

  Not like this. I can’t go like this.

  A pain shot through his wrist. Marban had seen him go down and raced to his side, diving and grabbing him at the last moment. With a mighty heave, he pulled Charlie free.

  “Can’t have you dying on me, little brother. The ship’s on its way, and there’s still plenty of fighting to––”

  The pirate fell silent, frozen in place.

  Charlie looked around him and realized another spell had frozen still more men. The Drookonus in his hand was still powered up, the protective spell from the sinking mech keeping him safe in its final seconds of activity. Then the spell failed, and Charlie felt his legs go weak. Massive explosions of destructive magic erupted into the visla’s defensive spells, shaking the ground violently.

  Marban toppled over into the shifting ground, following the others to their sandy doom, but Charlie was suddenly airborne, carried above invisible shoulders in a dead run toward the safety of the Asbrú’s hull. Bawb dumped him to the ground, flinging his shimmer cloak aside.