by Chris Fox
My helmet flowed into place of its own accord, surprising me, but I forced myself to remain calm and waited for the armor to finish whatever it was doing. The HUD lit, and a console appeared, the same one where I read text missives.
After a several second delay, text began to appear, writing itself in galactic standard for the first time.
I am capable of voice communication; however, magnetic interference prevents me from manifesting this ability.
I began to tremble. How could I not? This level of communication was far beyond what a piece of magitech should be capable of. This thing was fully sentient.
“Okay, how can I remove the interference?” I set my hands on my knees, and forced myself to sit still as I awaited an answer.
Either enhance the suit’s transmission, remove the interference, or shorten the distance between us.
That gave me pause. “There is no distance between us, is there? You are the armor, right?”
No. I am linked to every Heka Aten suit, but I do not reside in any of them. I am currently in communication with three pilots.
That prompted about a million more questions, but I knew I needed a focused line of questions. One that led to us getting off this planet.
“Okay,” I reasoned aloud. “Do you reside on the ship where I found the armor?”
Yes.
“I really wish you wouldn’t talk so much.” The magical intelligence apparently had no sense of humor, or maybe the joke was just bad. “So if you’re on the ship, do you have access to the orbital scanners?”
That seemed like a long shot, but hey, why not try?
Yes. Would you like me to initiate a scan?
“Do that. Scan the following coordinates.” I fed in the location where I’d escaped the Remora. “I want to confirm that a ship is still parked there. Can you do that?”
A hologram sprung up in my field of view, and it showed a top-down view of the site where I’d seen the lurkers. The Remora was still parked there, as were two rovers. I could see several figures walking around.
“I can’t believe this is real time.” I studied the figures. None wore the same armor I had anymore. All were in the battered lurker gear I’d seen on the others. “I don’t suppose you can nuke them from orbit?”
Weapons offline. Even were they not, firing would liquify the surrounding area, and the target vessel would be destroyed.
Maybe I was imagining the sarcasm. Okay, so the ship couldn’t help directly, but at the very least it could provide up-to-the-minute detail.
Then it hit me. I sat up straight, grinning. “Can you run some sort of thermal scan? Or use life magic or something? I want to know how many lifeforms are inside that ship.”
The hologram went translucent, exposing a cutaway view of the Remora. I counted six figures inside, plus four more around the compound. Yikes. But at least I had a head count.
By my estimates we had another four hours before we arrived, and now that I had a good idea of the defenders’ attitude, I could start planning. If we did this fast and clean, we might be able to get in and seal the ship without dealing with the four people outside.
That still meant we were outnumbered, but that was where the concept of action economy came in. If five of us ran into a room and shot the first two lurkers, we could overwhelm them, and they’d only get two shots back. Divide and conquer, basically.
If it worked.
How would I be able to manage that, though? Briff wasn’t exactly stealthy, and neither was my dad. They were going to see us coming unless I came up with a way to mitigate that.
I spent some time watching the figures inside the ship, trying to figure out who they were and what they might do based on nothing but their movements. It was just as maddening as you can imagine, at first anyway.
I quickly realized that two of the figures weren’t moving very much at all. They stayed in the same places, never moving more than a meter or two. At first I’d thought they were third shift and just getting rest, but both figures got up and moved around their quarters regularly. They just never left them.
I called up a schematic of the Remora, which I hadn’t known that well, and referenced the area where they were located.
“Drakkon’s frosty balls,” I whispered. “They’re in the brig!”
If I was right, it meant that we only had four people to contend with. It was even possible the pair in the brig might be allies, depending on why they were being held.
Now all I needed was a way for us to approach. I figured I had several hours to think about it, and then maybe I’d finally be able to impress my father and save our collective asses.
Interlude III
Jolene settled gracefully into the hovercouch’s luxurious leather, one of the finest Shayan models, and waved a hand at the floating pitcher that bobbed up and down near it. The vessel drifted over and tilted to fill her goblet with scarlet lifewine, also the Shayan variety.
At one time such luxury had brought her comfort, but all that had been stripped when Skare had provided her first taste of the Blood of Nefarius. It had brought her power. Immense power. But also an endless thirst for more.
That insatiable need had driven her to terrible acts, and had blinded her to the situation until she’d nearly lost everything. She had regained control of herself, though truth be told, that was only because there was no source for the blood.
If Talifax showed up today—something she prayed daily would never occur—and offered her another taste, would she have the strength to decline? She doubted it. Her resolve would break and she would once more be a puppet.
Yet each day ended, and he did not return. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Time was fluid to a being like that.
That was one more reason why she needed to flee this sector forever. She needed to be away from enemies and temptations both, but she would do it on her terms. She might even reclaim a bit of her glory.
Booted footsteps rang in the hallway outside her sitting chamber, part of sprawling apartments deep within her flagship. Every bit of the decor had been designed with impressing guests in mind, and while she couldn’t see the faces of the trio of armored men, she did note the long slow looks as their helmets panned around her chambers
“Welcome, War Leader Bortel.” Jolene gestured, and hovercouches moved to each of her three guests.
Bortel, the tallest figure and the one in the lead, glanced at the couch, then back at her. His armor was pristine, and she doubted it had ever seen battle. “I’d just as soon conduct our business and return to my ship. Every moment I am here the risk of discovery grows.”
“You are too cautious.” Jolene raised a delicate eyebrow, and leaned a bit closer. “Everything has proceeded exactly as I said it would. We’ve already lived up to our part of the agreement.”
“Have you?” the man snapped. He stalked forward, a clear attempt at intimidation. “All I’ve seen are a few earthquakes.”
Jolene considered her response carefully. Here, in the heart of her sanctum, her power was as absolute as it would ever be. She could crush all three men, if she wished. Or kill one of the underlings as an example. Would Bortel react well to naked intimidation? Or was coercion the better way?
She decided on intimidation. It was simple and easily understood. She lacked the time for subtlety.
Jolene raised her hand, the one containing the goblet, and gestured at the armored man on the right, the largest of the three. “Die.”
The spell globe at the top of the room, which was tied to a battery of mages whose sole job was fueling its magic, responded instantly to the keyword.
A bolt of negative energy streaked from the globe into the target’s chest. Metal, flesh, and bone exploded into particles as the disintegration erased the man from existence.
“Before you draw your sidearm,” Jolene began mildly, noting that Bortel’s pistol halted halfway out of the holster, as was his remaining companion’s. “You should probably know that the globe will respond to me bein
g threatened with instant and terminal force.”
“Why?” Bortel snarled, though he didn’t venture any closer. “We are allies, damn it. Why kill one of my most capable commanders? How are we supposed to move forward after that?”
“Bortel,” she snarled, matching his tone. “You continue to speak to me as if we are equals. That is the problem. You assume that we have an agreement. We do not. You work for me, and if that isn’t clear, if you think you have your independence, well…I suppose I will have to replace you. There are any number of qualified commanders still left on your world who’d love to be in your position. We’ve provided ships. The very ships that are about to both save you and make you a very wealthy man. You owe me, Bortel.”
Bortel’s sidearm snapped back into its holster, and he folded his arms over the armor’s chest. “Okay, you’ve rattled your saber. You’ve made our relationship clear. Now what?”
The man’s professionalism was a wonderful surprise. Perhaps she’d misjudged him. Ah well. He could get another underling. He’d have his pick in a matter of days.
“Nothing has changed. We proceed as planned.” Jolene rose from the couch, and approached Bortel, who towered over her. “Over the next seventy-two hours this planet will continue to disintegrate. The very last place to go will be the southern continent, near New Cairo. You set up your little contest, and collect ten legions of the best mercenaries this world has to offer. If you do all that, then I will elevate you to Marshall of my entire army. You will answer only to me, Bortel. I know you hate me, but I can still give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“You’ve got the hatred part right,” Bortel agreed. He gave a nod at his remaining companion, who retreated from her sitting room, leaving them alone. “You could have done all this without murder, which shows me that the rumors of your brutality are true. I’ll do what you ask, and I’ll take that position, but please…no more demonstrations.”
“So long as you don’t make them necessary.” Jolene sipped her wine, and watched as Bortel departed.
She hated that she needed him for what was to come, but if she was to secure a new home world, she’d need the finest troops available to take it. That meant taming Bortel, which she was hoping to do without the theft of will that Nebiat and her blasted Krox had favored.
No, she wanted to break him to her will without the aid of magic. If she failed, well then she’d simply make good on her threat and find a replacement. She had a whole world of mercs to choose from, after all.
Well, for a few more days anyway. Then all this would be a memory.
16
I crept up the last few meters of the ridge, then lowered myself into a crouch next to Rava. She still wore her sunglasses, which whirred as the optics studied the compound below. The rest of her head was covered by a fitted nylon cap that blended with the flurries of snow.
“What do you think?” I whispered, referring to the quartet of guards at the corners of the compound. Two were in crow-nest style towers, while the other two were huddled near doorways leading into the compound, probably so that they could respond quickly to incursions without freezing their appendages off. “Can we sneak past them?”
Rava drummed her fingers along her rifle’s stock, and studied the situation. “No. Too much risk.”
“She’s right,” my father whispered as he whirred up behind me on his hoverchair. “Never leave an enemy in your backfield. If your push fails you’re caught in a crossfire.”
“So how do we get in?” I asked as my father zoomed up next to Rava. I studied them both, looking for some sort of link. Beyond the smile and the eyes there was none.
“We kill them all.” Arcan’s metal boots crunched as he methodically plodded up to our position, his lungs working as he moved that much mass at this altitude. He’d left his bald head naked to the snow, and didn’t seem to feel the chill. “We have enough shooters to hit all four at once, then we move forward as a group to the ramp.”
I nodded, though I still saw some problems. “We’re going to need to move quickly. If it were me, as soon as I saw an attack I’d button up, and we don’t have the kind of firepower to cut through the hull. They can just sit there laughing at us.”
“Good point,” my father admitted, which warmed me. His steely eyes were focused on the compound below. The intensity had been absent for so long. “That means we need one person to get inside immediately, without being detected, while the rest of us take down the guards.”
“I’ll do it,” Rava gave immediately.
“No you won’t,” Arcan countered, frowning at his daughter, his metallic eyes drilling into her. “You’re our best sniper. You’re on cleanup.”
“He’s right,” I admitted. My shoulders slumped a little when I realized who the best choice was. “I’ll go. Briff, you can feint at the first tower, then drop back behind those boulders. While you’re doing that, I’ll go for the ramp. I can camouflage if needed, and I’ll work my way inside when they’re focused on you guys.”
“You realize,” Arcan began, his tone drier than any desert, “that if you screw this up, all of us are dead, right?”
“What the depths is your problem?” my dad snapped as he whirred up to Arcan, and somehow managed intimidating. “Back off. My boy will get it done. He’s gotten us this far, and if not for him, you’d be watching your shop float into orbit right about now.”
Arcan subsided, though his expression didn’t soften.
“I’ll get it done,” I promised. Having the armor helped with my confidence at least. “Just deal with the guards, and get to that ramp as quick as you can. I will not let them close it.”
Nobody looked happy about the situation, and given what we were facing I couldn’t blame them. I certainly wasn’t happy about it.
I sensed that it was a delicate moment, and it hinged on my next actions. So I crept over the ridge and started down the trail. We’d waited until sunset, and it was close enough that shadows had deepened nicely.
We picked a slow path down, and kept the compound’s buildings and the Remora between us and where the guards lay. Having a ship in orbit to tell me exactly where they were seemed like an unfair advantage, but their loss, right?
After a tense forty minutes we finally reached the edge of the landing platform where the Remora was parked. Briff was bringing up the rear, and while I heard gravel crunch with every step it was more than covered by the wind whistling down from the pass above.
None of the guards had reacted, anyway. If they’d heard Briff I’d expect them to come investigate, but none of the little red dots on my HUD had stirred.
“All right, people,” I whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the wind. “Everyone knows what to do. Give me sixty seconds to get into position, then take out those guards. If you hear gunfire before then, engage.”
“Got it,” my dad growled, his chair bobbing up and down in the wind. He held a serviceable spellpistol cradled in both hands, and I knew he’d be a lethal surprise to anyone who underestimated him simply because he had no legs.
Rava merely nodded, while Arcan didn’t even offer that much. Briff didn’t say anything, but I could see I had his full attention from where he huddled under his wings down near a tear in the fence that led onto the platform.
Now or never.
I crept forward, and slowly wormed my way through the hole in the fence. None of the dots moved. I rose to my feet and picked a careful path across the platform, around the Remora’s landing struts.
Maybe it was stupid, but I paused briefly and patted the one that had saved my life just a few days earlier. We went way back, that strut and I. Then I crept around the ramp, and my heart rate began to spike.
On the other side of the ramp, twenty meters away, stood one of the guard towers. It was occupied, and if the guard happened to glance down while I was darting up the ramp, if I gave them a reason to turn around….
That would blow the op.
I closed my eyes, just for an ins
tant, and drew on the fire in my chest as I channeled an infuse strength spell. Thanks to the armor, I was no longer a weakling. Now, casting the spell made me strong. Really strong, at least by my standards.
One deep breath later I darted from cover, and nearly lost my balance in the snow. If only it could make me graceful. I righted myself, thankful no one had seen.
“Are you even serious?” Rava’s amused voice came through the suit’s speakers. “Up the ramp, kid. Quick. Like a bunny.”
Guess I had been seen.
I scampered up the ramp, wincing at the clatter. None of the red dots inside had moved, though, which meant the first room would be empty. I hurried inside, and took up a position opposite the big red button that would raise the ramp.
I backed the armor up against the wall, and then pulled at the dream in my chest. The magic rippled over me, and my armor blended into the wall, invisible to the naked eye. That was the easy part.
Sweat trickled down my brow, and a detached part of my brain considered that a design flaw. I couldn’t wipe it away. What if it got in my eyes?
Then one of the red dots began to approach. A moment later a second dot in another part of the ship also began heading this way. That meant that the team had to have killed at least one guard, and that these guys were now aware of it.
I was about to have four lurkers either run past me, or more likely take up firing positions all around me. That’s what I’d do, anyway. Set up firing lanes to watch the ramp, and then gun down anyone who came up.
Normally you wouldn’t risk leaving the ramp down like that, because your enemy might toss a grenade inside and take you all out at once. Unfortunately, these people had to know why we were here. We wanted the ship, and perforating the hull with superheated metal fragments would render our escape moot pretty quickly.
They held all the cards, and they knew it. Well, they thought they did.
The first lurker charged into view, a heavily cybered merc with a bionic arm and full facial reconstruction. In this case, the enhancements transformed his face into a chrome flaming skull. Cute. He cradled a spellaxe in one hand, each arm thicker than my new legs.