by Dean Henegar
Time was running out, and she didn’t know if others were involved in the conspiracy to kill Slater. There was nobody on the new crew she could completely trust, so she pulled her comm device and contacted Lieutenant Camden. The comm beeped for several precious seconds; the lieutenant was likely asleep in his cabin.
“Yes,” the lieutenant grumbled, sounding still half-asleep.
“Lieutenant! Diaz and some others are going to try and kill Slater’s core. They shot Private Long and are heading to the core room. I’m going after them. Send help,” she yelled into the comm, not bothering to hear the lieutenant’s reply.
Illissa followed on the heels of the three traitors. Slater kept a squad of kobolds in the core room to guard him, but she also realized they were ordered to not engage any of the crew unless they committed a hostile act. As if in response to her thoughts, gunfire sounded ahead as she approached the hatch leading to the core room. An angry kobold screeched, and a second volley of shots thundered out. There was one final shot before everything went silent. She heard voices arguing as she peeked around the hatch to view what was going on inside the core room.
It was apparent to Illissa what had happened. The blasted-apart bodies of Slater’s MOBS were lying around the core, trying their best to shield him from attack. The three men were rooting around the corpses, looking for something. With a grunt of triumph, Diaz pulled a grenade from one of the kobolds’ pouches, displaying it to the others with a smile.
The other two humans were reloading their rifles and searching the dead MOBS for more explosives. The three traitors looked up at her in shock, not expecting the glowing elf to be the one to interrupt their scheme. She only caught a glimpse of Slater’s core, and it looked much different than the last time she had seen it. An armored cage surrounded most of the glowing orb, and only a bit of its light leaked out from a few small slits cut into the protective armor. Slater was smart to improve his defenses, but she feared the thin layer of armor would do little against the grenade Diaz held.
“Kill her! Kill the alien!” Diaz shouted, grabbing for the pistol on his belt while holding the grenade tightly in his other hand. The other two crew members fumbled with reloading their rifles, granting Illissa time to respond. That was when she felt it. Like an extension of herself, it was here. Holding out her hand, she released a burst of power, pushing the three humans back as an armored crate welded to the wall began to rattle.
The humans began to recover as the crate was shattered and Illissa’s bladed staff flew into her hands, enhancing her power. She slashed the deadly weapon toward the first of the traitors, who was even now climbing to his feet and inserting a fresh magazine into his rifle. The crystalline blade of her staff split the man from skull to crotch, the two halves falling to the floor with a splat. Magically enhanced speed allowed her to change the direction of her blade, cutting down the second traitor before he could bring up his rifle.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Rounds from Diaz’s pistol slammed into her protective shield, cracking it. In response, Illissa hurled her staff at Diaz. The blade impaled the man and pinned him to the back of the compartment. The crystal spear was able to pierce even the strong alloy that made up the ship. Blood leaked from Diaz’s mouth as he smiled at her and rolled the grenade in his hand toward Slater’s core.
Illissa’s damaged shield held for a moment, then shattered as the grenade blast lit up the compartment. Sizzling pain filled her being before she began to feel drowsy. It felt so good to sleep after all these centuries, so good to rest once again after so long, but there was one more task to complete . . .
* * *
Lieutenant Camden leaped through the hatchway, rolling to the right and bringing up his rifle as he scanned the devastation in front of him. Diaz was pinned to the wall by Illissa’s spear, and two other crew members were dead atop a pile of kobold bodies. The commodore’s core was housed in a protective casing that was dented but not destroyed by the blast. From the scorch marks on the floor, Camden assumed that the grenade had gone off near but not directly underneath the core; much of its force would have been directed around the entire compartment.
On the floor near the core lay Illissa. The elf looked almost peaceful as Camden checked for a pulse. There was none that he could detect—she was dead. As Camden watched, her body began to glow and grow lighter in his arms. One moment, he had been cradling the dead elf, and in the next, she dissipated away into thin air. He spun around with his rifle ready as something clanged nearby, only to see the shaft of Illissa’s spear rolling on the deck. The crystalline blade had vanished along with its wielder.
“What horrible thing has happened here?” Captain Guzman asked as he entered the compartment and surveyed the carnage.
“I think Illissa just stopped Diaz and the others from killing Commodore Slater, sir,” Camden said, pointing to where the elf’s body had lain.
“How could this have happened? What could the madman hope to accomplish by killing Commodore Slater? Had he succeeded, we would have all perished. I should have kept a closer eye on him. He had something of a mean streak that didn’t improve during our time in captivity. Imagine that: a hero that’s not a human and a villain that is. What does this say about our race?” Guzman said sorrowfully.
“What do we do now? Illissa was the only one who could tell us if Slater was hurt—or worse—from the explosion,” Camden asked.
“Who can tell? The core still glows, and the drones are still working, so that leads me to think that the commodore still lives,” Guzman replied.
“Lieutenant, I’ve got Long moved over to the med bay, and Doctor Cheng is going to take a look at him. His wound was weird, like it had already healed up a bunch. He’s out, but the poor guy is going to be devastated when he finds out Mr. Bitey is gone. The little rat managed to take down two of those clowns that killed him,” Private Harris told him.
Camden just nodded, trying to think of what to do next. “Get some of the crew to help you clear this place out. Don’t stop the drones if they start to process Diaz and the other traitors. They don’t deserve burial in space. Secure their weapons and then stand guard on this door until relieved. Nobody and nothing makes it through here again, understand?” Camden ordered, discipline snapping him back into the role of a leader.
“Roger that, sir,” Harris replied. The private was shaking his head in disbelief even as he performed his duty.
— 16 —
Slater floated within himself as pain wracked his being. The fiery breath of the dragon had hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced. Thankfully, his ship was safe for the moment. He had felt the jump complete even as pain overloaded him. Slater tried and failed to gain control over himself again as the agony continued. It took all his will to not lose himself completely, to not thrash out in fury at anything inside his vessel.
“Slater, let me help you before I pass. I owe you for all that you have done to save me,” a soothing voice told him as his pain lessened and he began to regain control once more. He felt the presence of the elf Illissa, but she was different. Changed.
“Illissa, what happened to you? What’s going on with the Franklin?” Slater asked.
“I’m passing on, Slater. I go to join my people. You and I are bound together by your core, so I was able to delay my departure for a time to thank you and grant you relief from the pain you were in,” Illissa told him.
“You are dying? Why? How?” Slater asked, more confused than ever.
“We have no time for lengthy explanations. Please just listen. Your core energy has sustained me since I came aboard. You granted me freedom and treated me like a person, despite all I had done to you. Our connection allows me to grant you a gift: all my knowledge, all my power, is now freely given to you, Slater, and I ask only one thing in return,” Illissa said, her voice growing faint.
“What is it you wish me to do, Illissa?” Slater asked.
“Get your humans home.
Defend them from the council. Once they are safe, you must take the fight to our enemy. Destroy the council. Kill them all!” Illissa roared at him before fading away. As her presence left, he felt the rage inside her dissipate, replaced by contentment. She was finally at peace. He wondered for a moment if he would feel that same way when he passed on.
Before he could turn philosophical, a blast hit him. Not a damaging blast—this was a blast of knowledge, a blast of power that his core greedily absorbed. Illissa had left him her knowledge. Everything the elf knew was his: knowledge about her race, their technology, how their people lived, and how they died. Schematics completed in his system and existing designs improved with his new knowledge. Some things still eluded him, the knowledge being lost as she drifted off. But most importantly, she had granted him a new power that he was even now incorporating into his system. He could touch and manipulate a new form of energy. He could shape it to his will. He could use magic.
Slater flipped through the new designs he had unlocked while he also created an interface to track his new abilities. The energy source that Illissa had used to fuel her abilities was out there, just waiting for him to grasp. He named it mana, remembering the term was used to represent magic power in many of the games he played as a kid. While this wasn’t really magic, it functioned so much like it that the two were essentially interchangeable. Illissa had implants to help her harness magic, but the nature of his core would fulfill the same role for Slater. He pulled up his new upgrades and reviewed what he had learned.
Mana: 1500/1500
Mana Regeneration: 10 mana per second
New Abilities: Project Shield, Magic Blast, Healing, Manipulation
With the Project Shield ability, Slater could now create a magic barrier like the one Illissa used to protect herself and others. The barrier could be projected anywhere inside his vessel and over his MOBS as long as they were within range of his core. With an initial cost of 250 mana and then a continuous stream of twenty-five mana per second, the shield could be maintained until he ran out of power. The shield would absorb a certain amount of damage before shattering, the feedback of which would prevent him from recasting the spell for a short time.
Magic Blast allowed Slater to use his mana as an explosive force. The spell cost five hundred mana, and the blast radius was about the same as a grenade. He would have to experiment a bit to see how much damage it did, but he was already thinking of uses for it, including throwing enemies into traps or onto mines . . . There were many possibilities. The healing ability cost one hundred mana initially and then fifty per second while he maintained the stream of energy. While he was channeling healing energy, he had insight into the wounds suffered by his patient and would instinctively know how to fix them.
Manipulation was another minor power he had inherited, allowing him to spend fifty energy to manipulate small objects. He couldn’t do much with it but would be able to do smaller things like flip a switch or pick up a small object from the ground with magic. This was useful for a humanoid, but as a derelict core with control over his entire vessel, it had limited use. He did have a couple of devious ideas for when boarders came onto his ship, and he would have to test them out in the Slaterdome later.
Strangely, he was unable to put any of his processing power toward researching magic. The bizarre energy source known as magic was beyond even his powerful abilities. From his connection to Illissa, he realized that magic ability improved over time and with continued use. The laws governing its power were vague, even to an elf who had used it for centuries. She had started with a small mana pool of one hundred and had increased it to just over two thousand before her death. Slater’s mana pool, in contrast, was starting fairly large and would improve over time. After all, other than being killed in battle, he didn’t think he could die of natural causes. Eventually, he could become an extremely powerful mage.
As far as schematic unlocks went, Illissa wasn’t a scientist or specialist in anything other than magic, but she did have some knowledge in a variety of fields. What would have taken weeks or months with her assisting him in research was known in a moment. He was able to upgrade all his laser weaponry, both ship and personal weapons. The improved lasers would be better than what the gnomes had used against him, but there was still room for improvement.
The biggest upgrade was in his ability to project his core power over a longer distance. Illissa’s ability—and now his ability—to project magic powers had unlocked more efficient signal boosters. Their range had increased ten-fold and now could be built smaller, taking up the same amount of space as a personal communicator. He was also able to see how he could research even greater improvements. Further upgrades in this area of research would now take less time to complete.
Additional upgrades included improved personal body armor, enabling him to incorporate the scale-like armor links the elves had used when they boarded his derelict. While the armor was horrible against any kinetic weapon, it did a superior job of resisting lasers and most energy weapons. The armor scales were lightweight, which enabled him to add a thin layer to his forces’ existing armor, giving them what he believed was better all-around protection than any of the armor worn by his foes.
A final research upgrade enabled him to build the strange grenade-like weapons the elves had used when they boarded his vessel. He could now create what they called a laser globe. The globe was able to move under its own power, allowing the small metal ball to hover over short distances. Once in place, the globe would be activated, blasting out lasers in all directions. The power of each shot was equivalent to that of a single laser pistol shot, but any foe in the area of effect would most likely be hit multiple times.
There was also the design for the ripper globe, which would shoot out spikes and then work like a horrible blender to chop up foes. While brutal, the ripper globe was less efficient than a normal grenade and not something he would likely equip his forces with. As a trap, it had a bit more potential. He would have to play around with it later.
Slater was pulled from exploring his new powers as his consciousness returned once again to the Franklin, the damaging pain from the dragon’s breath no longer clouding his mind. With a flash, he was back in control of his ship. He paused to review the actions that had taken place in his absence. Pushing aside his fury at Diaz and his sorrow over the loss of Illissa, he realized there was another vessel docked to his own. The bridge of his ship was empty as the humans focused on the aftermath of what Diaz had done.
“Captain Guzman, I am back. We have a dwarven vessel docked to the Franklin. Can you report to the bridge so we can contact them?” Slater asked.
“Aye, aye, Commodore. Bridge crew, report on the double!” Captain Guzman ordered as Slater took stock of his defenses. They were sadly depleted with only the automated weapons emplacements and no remaining MOBS. He broke down all but thirty of his drones to free up the energy he needed to create and control some combat drones as well as orc MOBS. He settled on ten combat drones and sixteen orcs along with four kobold taskmasters to lead them. It would take some time to print them up, but so far, the dwarves hadn’t made any moves. From his prior experience, the dwarves were a mixed bag. The first he had encountered were kind to him, even going out of their way to leave some items for him to absorb. On the other hand, that group had also included the backstabbing Quint.
“Sir, the bridge is manned and ready. Shall I hail our attached visitors?” Guzman asked.
“Yes, try to buy us some time while my drones work on printing up some defenders for us,” Slater added.
Guzman attempted to open a comm channel with the dwarves, who took a moment before they replied. “You weren’t supposed to contact us again, human. Just bring the core and then we’ll take you aboard,” a dwarf in mining coveralls said before looking at Captain Guzman in confusion. “I take it the other human didn’t succeed with his plan,” the dwarf growled.
“You are correct. The mutineers are dead, and now we have to decide
on what part you played in this catastrophe, as well as what we should do with you,” Guzman said. While he was talking, Slater made a show of aiming the one turret and three point-defense mounts that could come to bear on the dwarf vessel. He also made a note to adjust the turret placement so that both forward batteries could come to bear on a vessel docked to either boarding hatch.
“No need for hasty actions, human. I got no quarrel with your kind, and it looks like I was steered wrong by that Diaz character,” the dwarf said as he looked at his console, noting the weapons now pointed at him.
“From my perspective, dwarf, you had an agreement with a small group of mutineers on my vessel—mutineers that have killed and injured innocent crew members. Why are you docked with my ship?” Guzman asked.
“We were about to hold a bit of trade, and from what the other human told us, they were being held against their will and wanted to escape. I’m still willing to trade if you are willing to give up the core that Diaz promised me,” the dwarf replied greedily. Slater sent over an explanation about the core to Guzman, the best he could do on short notice.
“We don’t have a derelict core. The mutineer Diaz damaged our reactor to make it give off a signal similar to that of a core. He was trying to trick you,” Guzman said.
The dwarf looked skeptical but didn’t protest after looking back at his console and seeing the firepower arrayed against him. Slater knew his core signal was growing weaker over time; eventually, it would only be detectable by the most powerful sensors the council possessed. Even now, the signal it gave off would be weaker than even what a dead core would give off, lending credibility to their claims of not having one.