Ryle made his way toward another control station at the rear of the diamond. As he neared it he suddenly bounced off an invisible wall and fell back. Ugh, force field. He clearly saw the controls beyond the field but had no way to reach them. He tapped his pistol on the force field with to test it. Magnetic energy fizzed at the touch. Ryle backed up and fired on the force field—the laser blast bounced off and nearly took Ryle’s head off as it zinged back at him. He ducked and reconsidered. Explosives? Probably not a good idea, and he had only one grenade left. DLS? Doesn’t work on force fields. It might work on the diamond but would be a waste, as only a small portion would implode—but this gave him an idea. He could make his way to the front and try the DLS on the drill’s tip.
Red hazy sunlight flooded the area. Ryle spun around as the huge double doors to the chamber swung all the way open above him. This can’t be good. A figure in purple floated from over the side and landed on the diamond drill thirty feet from Ryle.
Nawrosh.
Ryle spoke, assuming somehow the dark wizard would hear him over his comm since the last wizard hacked into it. “The odds are even out here.”
Nawrosh tapped his staff on the diamond and held it up, pointed toward Ryle. A bubble of sorts formed around the staff and pushed outward. The bubble moved out from Nawrosh in all directions, enveloping Nawrosh and the diamond itself and was almost upon Ryle. Ryle backed away from it—but had no idea what it was other than a concoction of dark magic. He had no choice but to stay and deal with it; there was no escape plan.
With nowhere to go, Ryle let the bubble envelop him. He felt no different at first, but then felt the weight of his body pulling him down—gravity. Wind pushed against his suit—air. The wizard had created a pocket of air.
“I believe you are mistaken, Gelibor,” said Nawrosh. “Now, kindly surrender and I may spare your life.”
Yet another event not covered in Special Forces Training School. He sure could use Rez right about now.
“You are all alone. Your brother is locked up,” said Nawrosh. “The Gelibor line is all but extinguished.”
“Not quite,” said Ryle, searching for what to say to buy time. “My youngest brother will become more powerful than even you.”
Nawrosh squawked with laughter. “That little rat of a boy has no chance against me or any other Qesem.”
“Zermal may disagree. He trained him.”
“Zermal is a disgraced freak of nature. Jez Gelibor is just another of Aqtal’s servants, merely used by him to do his will.”
“A lot like you? A glorified puppet.”
“Enough of this bluster,” said Nawrosh. A foul-sounding song bellowed from his mouth. He waved his staff, blowing a gust of air at Ryle.
The wind smacked Ryle and flung him backward. He bounced off the force field again and back down onto the diamond—more jarring with his full weight coming down, but his armor softened the impact. Ryle rolled and fired pistol blasts, but Nawrosh spun his staff and deflected the shots.
With another wave of his staff Nawrosh tossed Ryle across the diamond so that he smacked onto its rigid surface, slipped, and slid down the side of the drill and became wedged in between the diamond and the chamber wall. Stuck momentarily, Ryle fired his leg boosters, thrusting him loose. As he sprang loose he crushed the DLS gun—in his backpack—against the diamond. Ryle sped the length of the diamond’s side away from Nawrosh, squeezing through the narrow gap between the diamond and the wall but had no option but to land back on top.
Nawrosh leapt toward him and with staff raised spewed a wicked, guttural song that lifted Ryle upward. He felt his throat tightening. To make his horror worse, Ryle’s helmet popped off his head and clattered onto the diamond. He rose higher and higher and reached the upper edge of the bubble with only the dead, cold vacuum of space beyond.
Ryle’s head inched closer to the barrier. As his hair penetrated it, paralyzing coldness enveloped the top of his head. One last trick was available—Ryle had a manual C-Wire on his wrist. He reached over with his right hand, unhooked the C-Wire, dropping it at his feet and he activated his anti-grav boots. The force shot the wire at Nawrosh and it wrapped around his staff causing the wizard to drop the staff—and therefore drop Ryle.
Ryle landed on his side on the diamond, pulled a smoke bomb off his belt and smashed it on the diamond, providing temporary cover. He boosted straight toward Nawrosh, grabbed the staff and hurled it away from the ship. It pierced through the bubble barrier and floated out into space. Nawrosh bent down, picked Ryle up by his torso, and heaved him over his shoulder. He slid across the diamond, halting close to the control booth. Nawrosh leapt toward Ryle, stood over him, and drew a short iron sword—an Amethyst blade.
“Your boots are quite troublesome,” snarled Nawrosh. He slashed Ryle’s left boot first, then the right, destroying the leg booster and anti-grav functions. With both hands gripping its hilt, he brought the sword down directly into Ryle’s chest. Ryle’s eyes squeezed shut.
Nawrosh ogled Ryle with a grin of victory.
After a second, Ryle opened his eyes. “Advanced armor.”
Nawrosh hissed, flung away the short sword, and pulled out his diamond sword. The diamond sword, a “blood relative” of the drill, reflected the huge diamond’s sparkle as Nawrosh swung it downward with a wide motion.
Moments like this were covered in training. Ryle performed a reverse somersault. The diamond sword swung down, missed Ryle, and struck hard against the diamond drill, breaking the blade into pieces. Ryle laid prostrate as several of the pieces came at him.
The diamond fragments bounced over Ryle, penetrated the force field covering the controls, and sliced into the instrument controls. The controls popped and caught fire. The force field vanished. Ryle jumped up and pushed every active button he could find. The drill shifted, rotating itself into launching position, causing Nawrosh to slip and fall down in between the diamond and the chamber wall. He growled from below, “Gelibor! Your end has come!”
Ryle peered down the rear of the drill and saw it was connected to the ship by metal attachment gear. “No, I think yours has.” He tossed his last grenade down at the attachment gear. It exploded, rocking the drill loose from its moorings. The drill lurched forward and fell against the chamber, crushing Nawrosh into powdery grey dust.
The air bubble began to collapse. Ryle instinctively activated his leg boosters, forgetting they were busted. He scrambled toward his helmet. The diamond suddenly seemed more slippery and unsteady than before as it rocked back and forth. He found his footing, ran, and slid over to where his helmet still lay and grabbed it before it fell over the side. He sealed it around his head just before the bubble dissipated. The vacuum of space surrounded him again as he clutched onto the drill with outstretched hands.
Chapter 56
Rez, his hands and feet bound with metal shackles, sat on the floor of the cell originally designed to hold prisoners of his own choosing. A force field separated him from the guards outside. When the entire ship lurched, Rez knew Ryle had made progress. The two brown wizards outside his cell muttered to each other and hustled away leaving behind two soldiers to stand guard. Rez noticed, hanging on the belt of one of the soldiers, the silver DLS cylinder Ryle had given him.
Rez pursed his lips and began a slow, quiet whistle, which grew louder and louder until it echoed around the walls of the cell. He wasn’t sure how the sound would fare passing through the force field, but he had nothing to lose in trying.
The cylinder shook on the soldier’s belt. Rez took a breath, concentrated harder, and turned the whistle into a full-blown song—sang from deep within. Air and sound molecules penetrated the force field and stirred up a brisk wind throughout the corridor. The cylinder sprang off the soldier’s belt, armed itself, and slammed into the bulkhead beside the force field. The wall section imploded, its molecules collapsing into nothingness. The force field blinked and sputtered.
Constrained by the foot shackles, Rez kneeled, rolled out
of the cell, and flipped upward, kicking the first trooper in the face flinging him against the other trooper. Rez grabbed the trooper’s blaster pistol and shot them both. He blasted his foot and hand shackles free.
He wasn’t done with Jez yet.
* * *
Purple and red emergency lights blinked from the four corners of the command center. Jez gripped the central navigation console, sweat dripping off his forehead onto the instruments. He anxiously wiped his sweat off the screen with his sleeve.
The drill was loose.
The halting screech of the alarm punctuated the chaos. Jez screamed orders at three dark wizards who seemed to him to be standing around doing nothing. Two ran off the bridge, leaving behind one to aid Jez in salvaging some control. With flashing red letters, the tactical featured a new setting: Limited Manual Control was granted. Because the drill was loose, Jez was given the ability to manually realign the ship with the drill as long as it was still inside the chamber. It was inside, but the drill’s pointed tip had lurched forward and became lodged in the chamber wall so the backup clamps could not secure the drill in place—yet.
Since everyone around him was a failure, Jez would have to go out there and do it himself. Damn you, Ryle. Jez opened up a wall compartment, found a space suit and slipped into it. He grabbed a helmet and ran for the door. Upon opening, he gasped.
Rez.
“You!” said Jez.
“Going somewhere, brother?” Rez launched into a powerful song blowing Jez backward and sliding into a pile of debris from the previous skirmishes.
Rez leapt over to the navigation station where the brown wizard stood guard over the controls. In a flash, Rez stole the wizard’s staff, belted out strong notes, smacked the wizard in the face with the staff, and swung it around again, striking the wizard hard in the gut. The wizard’s skin cracked, and he fell into pieces.
Rez examined the screen and found confirmation—Ryle had indeed mucked up Aqtal’s plans. The drill was dislodged and the ship was under manual control. He tried to steer the ship away from the planet but was unable to veer from the predetermined coordinates.
Jez jumped up. “You fool!” He pointed his arm weapon at Rez. “Fire!”
Rez ducked as the blast wave struck the control console, blowing it up. “I’m tired of trading insults, Jez. You must stop your madness. You know this isn’t right. Aqtal is playing you as the fool.”
“Fire!”
Rez leapt as another blast destroyed the weapons control station. Rez scrambled over and blocked the path to the door.
“Get out of my way,” said Jez through gritted teeth.
“You’re not getting past me. And your accomplices can’t help. Nawrosh is dead.”
“What?” said Jez. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m smart.”
Jez glowered at Rez with eyes burning with loathsomeness. Silence held the moment until a new alarm screeched—the inbound threat alert. Rez pointed up at the last remaining functional viewscreen—behind Jez—but Jez refused to look at it.
“Just look! We have incoming!” said Rez.
Jez spun around. Indeed—an incoming enemy signal. How is that possible? Chrysolite could not have gotten through the blockade. He tried to get a tactical screen to work, but it only blinked with hazy images. “What is that? A ship?”
Rez could not tell either. He ran over to a window viewport and squinted. “I see it.”
“What is it?” yelled Jez, on the verge of melting down.
“Long range cruise missile. It’s a shame you wrecked the weapons controls.”
Jez fumed. He ran over to a side panel, ripped it off the wall, and pulled out the manual fire lever. Cannons warmed up outside the ship on the forward full. Jez squeezed the trigger.
The cannons fired several rounds of reddish-purple blasts toward the oncoming missile. Most of the shots missed, but a few scored direct hits—and the blasts simply bounced off the missile’s advanced deflector shields. The missile stayed on course toward the Chironex.
Jez cursed and his face effused with sweat.
* * *
Ryle, with no functioning leg boosters or anti-grav’s, clung to the smooth top of the drill as best he could. The drill was more stable after lodging itself into the ship, but it swayed back and forth. Ryle lifted up his head to the curious sight of blasts ringing out from the Chironex into space. Who are they firing at?
Ryle’s in-helmet scope zoomed in on the cannon blasts’ target—something was definitely heading their way. A ship? No. I know what that is. But aren’t those illegal? Escape pods...where were they again? Ryle considered making a go for them, but one false move and he would slide off the diamond into space. He then remembered his previous scan revealed no pods.
That missile was traveling fast.
Ryle lost his grip and slid backward down the diamond’s surface. He reached out and snagged a handhold. The fingers of his right hand fit into a missing portion of the diamond. He searched around with his left hand and found another missing portion. He had a solid grip now—and it appeared he was about to really need it.
Two of the Gak escort destroyers raced overhead toward the missile. Brave self-sacrifice did not normally characterize Archon troops, but these pilots were under strict orders. If they refused they would face a more painful death.
The Gaks collided head-on with the missile, resulting in a sharp, intense, and massive explosion, sending Ryle’s world into a spin. The blast wave sent the Chironex tumbling into a roll.
Chapter 57
At the base of a large mine outside of Laylon, Farash lifted up his staff. Lygalia, holding up her short staff, stood by his side. Jyssa and the others watched. To Jyssa, this was taking way too long and her anxiousness was about to overwhelm her.
Farash and Lygalia joined their voices and sang a tune. The wind stirred up and began blowing dirt and dust away from the entrance but not in the grand display of power Jyssa was expecting. The melody of the two voices diverged, and Farash’s song trailed off. He stopped and lowered his staff.
“Why are you stopping?” asked Jyssa.
“I am not used to this type of magic.”
“Well, get used to it! There’s children in there.”
“I know!” he growled.
She backed away, truly frightened. Just hours ago he was still a menacing dark wizard.
Mitchett put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure out another way.”
Brayden perked up. “We can dig them out! I know how to dig.”
Malaiya said, “We don’t have any shovels.”
“Oh,” said Brayden, deflated.
“There’s no time!” said Jyssa. “Please, Farash, just keep trying.”
Lygalia spoke calmly to Farash. “We need to do this together. My injury, though healed now, sapped much of my strength. And the Archon sealed these shut with more than just dirt and dust. There’s digging equipment and steel girders blocking the way as well.”
Farash kneeled and breathed deeply. He arose and with a strong effort sang a song undergirded with a beat and layered with harmony. Lygalia joined her song to his. Dust and dirt blew away from the entrance, moving steadily until all of it was gone. Following this two folded-up digging cranes were dragged out of the mine and crashed down the hill.
Jyssa and the others rushed to the entrance to find dozens of dust-covered kids coughing and shielding their eyes from the relative brightness of the outside. The kids ascended the ramp and exited the mine. Semo and Rostov ushered them onto the Wild Boar.
Jyssa turned back to find Farash flat on his back on the ground. “No!” She and Mitchett ran over to him.
“I’m sorry, Miss Gelibor. I am not up to this,” he whispered.
“You can do this. You have to.”
“There are at least thirteen more mines,” said Farash.
“I can’t do them alone, Farash,” said Lygalia.
Tara approached. “Lieutenant, you may not have to.” She poi
nted at the sky. “Those are not Archon ships.”
Dozens of black and red ships approached and fanned out over the area of the city and outlying districts. A red ship spotted them and descended to the ground, the ship’s thrusters blowing dust in all directions. Jyssa shielded her eyes. Mitchett, Semo, and Rostov held rifles up, just in case.
The side door slid open and Aphiemi’s brown hair flapped in the wind as she emerged from the ship. She wore tan military pants and a battle vest and was escorted by two red-armored Sardonyx troops.
“Aphiemi!” bellowed Jyssa.
Aphiemi ran toward her. “Sorry we’re late. We had to take the long way around the shield.” Aphiemi’s gaze fell upon Brayden and Malaiya, and her eyes moistened. She rushed toward the kids, but Brayden was stand-offish. Malaiya received her hug warmly.
“I don’t know who you are,” said Brayden.
“This is mom’s cousin! You’ve met her before, you dolt,” said Malaiya.
Aphiemi smiled. “It’s okay. It’s been a couple years.”
“This is our friend, Arlo,” said Brayden. “He helped us.”
“Hello, Arlo. I’m Aphiemi Waswin of Chrysolite.” She extended her hand to Arlo who was awestruck.
His mouth gaped open. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Arlo!” said Malaiya.
Aphiemi laughed. More Onyx ships raced overhead and five more landed in their vicinity. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The kids looked at each other. Malaiya spoke, “Um...we decided we don’t want to leave until all the other kids are rescued.”
Aphiemi, impressed, nodded in agreement. “Absolutely, Malaiya. We brought help.”
The Orcas One and Two landed nearby. Their doors opened and wizards of all ages, shapes, and sizes poured out. The kids had barely ever seen one wizard before—at least not the good kind. This was almost too much to handle. Qusam, Sienna, and Bao made their way over to them.
“Bao!” said Jyssa and Mitchett in unison.
The Topaz Operation Page 27