Soldiers of the Heavens

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “Just open the door,” Aiden interrupted, sensing the lance was ready to fire at any moment. Terinus nodded and traced a number of glyphs on the console's surface with one hand. The ominous door before them opened with a heavy grinding sound, revealing a corridor lit by the fires of the weapon beyond. The others shielded their eyes and stepped back as Aiden slowly limped through the doorway, dragging one of his mechanical legs behind him.

  The light was coming through the wall, which appeared to be some sort of glass surface, yet it did not melt. The door slid back into place behind him, and another opened just ahead revealing a large chamber with three enormous crystals set in place upon huge metal braces.

  Limping into the centre of the chamber, Aiden saw a large, circular hole covered in the same heat-resistant glass as the corridor, inside of which appeared to be the fires of hell itself. His suit was unable to fully compensate for the intensity of the light, forcing Aiden to shield his eyes with one hand as he moved further into the chamber.

  The crystals were easily twice his height and he couldn't even guess at their weight, but fortunately none of that was relevant. He pulled back his sole working arm and slammed his fist into the nearest crystal until the entire thing shattered.

  Limping across the room to the next one, he gritted his teeth against the howling noise and blinding light and repeated the procedure, hammering away at the crystal until it too shattered into a million pieces. His vision was filled with flashing red sigils now, with no sign of anything blue in sight. Time was running short and he knew he wouldn't make it to the third one in his current condition. Despite the warnings screaming at him, Aiden raised his palm and hoped his energy weapon would still function.

  Although he couldn't hear the noise of it over the general roar of the chamber, he felt more than saw the brilliant energy explode from his arm and strike the crystal in his sights. It exploded instantly, just as the hole in the centre of the chamber opened and unleashed the fires below.

  The torrent of flames had nothing to focus them as they soared through a gap in the ceiling, the force of which threatened to suck Aiden from his feet and send him along for the ride. He grasped an extrusion of metal on the side of the chamber and held on for his life, unable to hear his own scream over the roar of the orbital lance. Even through this, he slowly pulled himself towards the corridor, seeking to escape the conflagration.

  Then, an explosion ripped through the chamber, throwing Aiden towards the door head-first. He crashed through it and into the corridor beyond, where he was tossed onto the floor. The fires surged around him and then, remarkably, seemed to flow backwards. He began to skid along the floor back to the firing chamber again, his one working hand leaving deep gouges in the metal as he sought to stop his momentum.

  The fires around him were sucked away and the cacophony of light and noise finally died down, leaving an ominous silence in its wake. Aiden lay there, gasping for breath before a keening screech went off in his ear. The flashing sigils before him vanished and were replaced by a single large one, the meaning of which was not lost on him.

  “Eject”.

  Believing it was sound advice, Aiden withdrew his fingers from the control surfaces and the hatch behind him opened with a hiss. Overwhelmed and shaking, he slowly emerged from the back of the armour which was scarred and burnt beyond belief, and emitted a plume of noxious smoke. He stumbled to the floor as the soft hum of the armour died away completely.

  Feeling more ordinary by the moment, Aiden stumbled towards the door. The walls and floor around him were still emitting a great deal of heat, but it was bearable. As he approached it, the door opened and allowed him back into the control room, where he saw Nellise, Pacian and Terinus unconscious upon the floor amid a group of sa'quaarin officers standing over them. One of them wore no robe, but was instead clad in a suit of bizarre armour which matched the gauntlets on its hands.

  The circlet on Aiden's head suddenly rose into the air at a mere gesture from this creature, and his mind was instantly assaulted with a burst of power which left him reeling. He fell to his knees and glared up at his enemy, flashing a smug smile of satisfaction at the completion of their mission, before another blast rendered Aiden unconscious.

  Chapter Twenty

  The minds of the sa'quaarin holding Sayana captive crawled through her thoughts like a dozen spiders skittering around inside her brain. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep them all out. The continued unravelling of the markings on her body drastically reduced her power, and she simply couldn't face off against so many of these creatures at once. She was reduced to swatting ineffectually at the mental avatars crawling inside her mind.

  There were clearly different strata of these creatures. The officers were few in number, while the more numerous workers carried out the mundane tasks. When they had arrived in the foundry before the fight, it took only moments for the officers to disable her and Robert. Had they been in the foundry beforehand, the battle would have gone very differently.

  The sorceress and her companions were being held in a dark chamber formerly used as living quarters. It had clearly not been used for a long time, judging by the layers of dust upon all surfaces, and a stale odour in the air. Expecting to die immediately, Sayana was dismayed to learn the sa'quaarin wanted to interrogate their captives first.

  Feelings of isolation and of being left behind permeated her thoughts, more intense than during the battle itself. They knew her weak spots and exploited them without restraint. Ironically, it was the presence of their minds within hers that gave her reassurance, knowing the dark experience was being inflicted upon her by flesh-and-blood creatures who could be fought. It gave her hope.

  Although relieved to see her friends had survived the destruction of the orbital lance, Sayana now feared for their safety. All of them had been stripped of their armour and equipment and were held against the wall with chains of vythir. Aiden sagged at the limit of his restraints, barely coherent, while Robert's wounds appeared more extensive than he had let on. Great bruises covered his chest from the impact of the dreadnaughts, for even the finest armour buckled under their power.

  All their hands were restrained by manacles fashioned from a metal which also had the effect of absorbing any magical energies she tried to summon. The inquisition of the Church of Aielund had used devices just like this when they had captured her at Highmarch years ago. Evidently, the inquisition had acquired a few sets, but whether they found them or were given the manacles was another question.

  They were all undergoing similar mental probes which were painful to say the least. Sayana tried to keep small secrets from being revealed, in spite of the additional pain this caused, yet failed time and again. They learned much about her exploits, including all of her private, intimate moments with Robert. It was horrible, but she gained one small victory — while they had full access to her mind, she also had access to theirs, allowing her to learn precious insights into the way the sa'quaarin thought.

  Having touched the minds of her companions and more than a few enemies of late, the sorceress found this experience disturbing to say the least. These creatures were like nothing she'd previously encountered, and she found their inner thoughts morbidly fascinating. None of them spoke a word during the course of their interrogation, but rather communicated telepathically amongst themselves. The interconnected nature of their minds which she had glimpsed earlier was far more encompassing than she realised.

  The sa'quaarin had no spoken language at all. Naturally telepathic, their entire lives were conducted both in the material world, and the astonishing realm created within their thoughts. It went some way to explaining the spartan nature of their living arrangements, for they had little need of creature comforts when their imaginations were almost unlimited.

  Of greater importance, however, was the revelation of their motives. The acquisition of vythir was of paramount concern, clearly indicating they were primarily a mining operation. They used little of it themselves,
offloading it to some sort of vessel which stopped by periodically, a ritual thousands of years old and the centre of their existence, to which all their efforts were bent. These visits were becoming fewer and further between, however, with implications Sayana did not fully comprehend.

  You find this interesting, yes? A soft, aged voice spoke within her mind. It was coming from one of the spider avatars sitting on the ceiling of her brain in a way that made her very uncomfortable.

  There are more of your kind somewhere else, Sayana answered, looking for a way to leverage the knowledge she was acquiring since her arrival. They are long overdue, and you are isolated above our world. Your numbers are fewer now, much less than in the past. So much of this fortress is empty. Long abandoned rooms used to harbour your kindred, long gone.

  Observant and insightful, the spider remarked. Despite the softness, there was a lingering sense of condescension lying within the words. You wonder at your continuing existence. You and the others live because we desire it. Never before have we witnessed cattle spliced with a moderately stable double augmentation. You are a singular specimen to be studied at length, preferably before the process unravels further. It has never worked at all in the past, though all previous recipients weren't filthy half-breeds. Then again, why should we care how cattle breed amongst themselves?

  This 'cattle' just destroyed your greatest weapon, Sayana retorted smugly, as well as all of your new war machines.

  The constructs were designed to replace decaying workers in the mines deep beneath the surface, the spider replied, unperturbed. It is not our way to fight a direct war. Using expendable assets has ever been our preference. The loss of the constructs will cause us problems in the short term, but nothing we are concerned about and the orbital lance will be repaired within hours. Yes, all your efforts will come to naught.

  You're hiding something, Sayana remarked, knowing bluster when she heard it. She immediately felt a stab of pain within her head and struggled to keep from crying out. She would not give her captor the satisfaction.

  As are you, abomination, the creature retorted. It could no longer keep its thoughts clear of the disgust it felt communicating with Sayana. Rest assured, my minions will uncover it soon, if not from you, then one of your less resilient herd. I see this disturbs you. This pleases me. We will talk again soon, creature.

  The larger spider perched above her scurried around a corner. Aware of the events in the room about her in only a vague way, Sayana noticed a dark, armoured form had walked past and only now did she understand she had been communicating with their leader, the one they called the Strator.

  The Strator slowly walked before the captives, briefly scanning each in turn with its eyes and its mind. Nellise, showing no outward sign of discomfort despite being strung up in chains, looked upon her captor with unflinching, golden eyes.

  “I would parley with you, if you speak for your people,” she stated calmly.

  We speak as one, the Strator replied softly. Negotiation is unnecessary. You have nothing we want that we cannot simply take.

  “You tried to destroy our home, and have been unleashing atrocities upon our world for countless generations,” Nellise continued regardless. “You wield power beyond our understanding. Is there a way we can coexist without this senseless slaughter? Our people are no threat to you.”

  All evidence to the contrary. Your efforts in the foundry were remarkable.

  “We have drawn upon rare powers to end your threat,” Nellise explained. “The vast majority of the population below cannot harm you and do not even know of your existence.”

  Do you not understand our purpose? The Strator asked curiously. I know your minds are limited, but the reasons for such activity must be evident to even you by now.

  “Indulge me,” Nellise remarked dryly. Her ability to remain cool under pressure was astonishing. Although Terinus had expressed his doubts, Nellise was making a genuine attempt to negotiate a peace between these creatures and the varied races of Feydwiir. Sayana though it was doomed to fail, simply from the arrogance she sensed within the sa’quaarin minds.

  Only those who approach the sort of power required to harm us are dealt with, the Strator continued. Everyone else is free to live their lives.

  “But they're not free,” Pacian interrupted angrily. “The appearance of freedom is no substitute for the real thing.”

  You lived most of your lives ignorant of our existence, the Strator pointed out. The illusion of freedom is tangible, yet provides us with the control of your lives we require. Once we have eliminated knowledge of our existence from those on the surface, the realm will be returned to peace for centuries. Is this not a worthwhile sacrifice? Do not bother answering — we already know your response.

  “I will speak it anyway,” Nellise responded. “Your perspective is twisted and self-defeating, as evidenced by our success here today. Free us, leave our world and you will be allowed to live.”

  Humour. How interesting, the Strator remarked with clinical precision. You are brave, to come here and stand before us, but even you have your limits. The higher planes rarely meddle in our affairs and I find your intervention here unsettling. We have dealt unkindly with celestial beings in the past, and view your appearance as no exception. Thus, we believe a demonstration of power is in order.

  “At least tell us why,” Nellise pressed. “Why all this killing, this secrecy and deception? What possible purpose could it serve to destroy with such wanton cruelty?”

  The vythir we excavate is a vital component of our society and must be secured at any cost, the Strator replied unrepentantly. We all do as we must to perpetuate our respective species. The only difference between us is how far we are willing to go to ensure victory. When the lance is repaired, Aielund shall be obliterated. The country has been too much of a problem of late, anyway. It is so difficult to cull the cattle when they have become unruly.

  “There's no need to destroy the entire kingdom,” Nellise implored their captors. “All who know of your existence are here before you. Kill us if you must, but leave Aielund alone.”

  “Do we get a vote in this?” Pacian remarked uncertainly.

  You are lying, the Strator stated coldly to Nellise. There are others walking the surface even now who know of us... your servants, Lucas and Saffron. The creature whirled on Terinus, who appeared bedraggled and ancient in his restraints. You defied our instructions with regards to the elimination of the raelani. YOU are behind this failed assault. Terinus looked up at the Strator with unabashed hatred etched on his features.

  “I served you out of fear, not belief in the rightness of your cause,” he rasped. “I drew the line at the elimination of a gentle people who could never be a threat to you. Face it, you wish to destroy Aielund not to protect your anonymity, but because you enjoy it. Bringing death to tens of thousands gives you a twisted thrill, to exercise power as would a petulant god.” He shuddered as the sa'quaarin punished him for his insolence, yet he bore it without a sound of protest.

  We are disappointed in you, disciple. So few of your kind qualify for our blessings, and fewer still serve as long as you have. You have proven unworthy of our trust, and after your mind is scoured of all information you have been keeping from us, you will be eliminated along with those you recruited to your cause. The Strator glanced at Robert without interest before locking eyes with Aiden.

  You are something of an anomaly, it stated, lifting in one hand the protective circlet Aiden had previously worn. You are resistant to our methods, even without the aid of this device. It seems our old draconic adversary had a hand in your alterations, turning you into a weapon to use against us. Though we were always at odds, we were much alike in many ways. Both of us had no qualms about using lesser creatures as disposable agents to further our own agenda. As the result of a bizarre magical experiment gone wrong, you will be pleased to know we have no further use for you.

  “I'm guessing you won't be swinging the axe yourself,” Aiden taunt
ed with a weak voice.

  We must see to the repairs of the lance you destroyed, the Strator replied as it headed towards the door. It is most inconvenient, though hardly crippling. Your raid would be considered an amusement, but for those you killed. Still, you have our respect for coming this far. As for your executioner, take your pick. We act as one. Without further comment, it departed the room, leaving their fate in the hands of the three remaining robed sa'quaarin.

  The pressure in Sayana's head eased, yet this gave her no comfort. Their focus was shifting to Aiden, who glared up at the three creatures in anticipation of what was to come. The sorceress twisted and writhed in her restraints, trying to find a weak point where she could act to prevent what was about to happen. While the manacles were in place, she simply couldn't draw upon her diminishing reserves to intervene.

  “So, it takes three of you to deal with one helpless captive?” Pacian taunted. “You're even more pathetic than I thought.” The sa'quaarin barely noticed him, so intent they were upon Aiden. “You think you're all powerful, yet you have scrawny little bastards like Terry over there do your dirty work for you. Think you're so high and mighty? I bet you couldn't get anything done without us 'cattle', am I right?”

  Be silent, lest you share his fate, the nearest warned with an unsettling glare. Aiden cried out in pain as the other two began their sadistic work.

  “If you want me to shut up, you'll have to shut me up,” Pacian continued with rising ire. “Or maybe you'll have someone else do it for you? After all, I'm clearly a threat, being in chains and all.”

  Keep this up and your screams will echo through these halls for a century, came another warning.

  “Come over here and say that,” Pacian spat, literally sending a gob of saliva to the feet of their captors. The sa'quaarin, growing more incensed by the moment, glided in closer like a spectre of death coming for Pacian's soul.

  They locked eyes, and Sayana sensed something passing between them. Her connection to their collective mindscape was becoming increasingly limited, yet she sensed the presence of Pacian's mind amongst them. Somehow, he was using his training as an ascetic to assault the mind of this creature with enough force to distract it.