Sac'a'rith

by Vincent Trigili

  “Left at the next junction, and then take the second shaft down,” he replied without the slightest hesitation.

  Most of the prison guards were heading towards the firefight at the other end of the colony, but alarms were undoubtedly sounding at this end and I knew it was only a matter of time before troops were sent to deal with us. There would be constant confusion throughout the battlefield, and I was counting on that to create enough delay for us to get in, make the rescue and get out.

  We had almost made it to the shaft before coming under fire from some soldiers in heavy armor. “Don’t stop! Make a break for the shaft! I’ll cover you,” I sent. I was pretty sure my rifle couldn’t penetrate their armor, but that same armor was heavy and would dramatically reduce their speed of movement. That should give us enough time to make the run, but I was too experienced to count on it.

  Crivreen and Ragnar made a mad sprint along the last few meters towards the shaft as I tossed two concussion grenades over their heads at the enemy troops. The force from the blast threw the soldiers back and bought us the time we needed to jump down the shaft. Their armor might have protected some of them from the blast, but those closest would have been killed. More importantly, the rest would move more cautiously now and that would give us more time to gain a good lead on them.

  The thrusters on our armor were intended for zero-g maneuvers but were sufficient to slow our twenty-meter descent just enough so that we could hit the ground running.

  “Getting back out should be fun,” called out Ragnar as we sprinted down the corridor.

  I hadn’t attempted to make an escape plan as there was no way to guess in advance what options would be open to us, but Ragnar had been insistent that we should have one; he felt strongly enough about it to have probably worked one out himself.

  We came to another junction and stopped a moment to catch our breath. I looked around and realized I had no idea where we were. “Which way?”

  Ragnar chanted a divination as he wrote something on the floor with his finger. “We’re close; this way!” He took off at a jog down one of the corridors and I sent Crivreen after him. I wanted to take the rear, as I was sure those soldiers would figure out which way we’d gone soon enough, unless they had more than one Phareon hostage. It must be obvious why we were here. I was sure that if we allowed them breathing room they would have guards around our target, locking him down tight.

  Weapon fire erupted from somewhere ahead of us as we ran, and Ragnar returned fire with one of the wands Crivreen had made for him, but we didn’t slow down. Time was completely against us and it was a merciless and tireless enemy.

  We managed to stay ahead of the troops sent to stop us and made it to the cell where the target was being held. A few quick blasts from my rifle took care of the locked door, and we found him chained and unconscious in the back of the room. He looked badly beaten and starved. He was probably some ranking politician or, more likely, the son of a politician.

  “No time to rouse him,” said Crivreen.

  “No need,” I said as I lifted him onto my shoulder, preferring that he stay asleep. As a Zalionian I was probably at least fifty per cent more massive than the puny human, so his weight was not a hindrance. “Fastest way out?”

  “Up,” said Ragnar. “Crivreen, barricade the door and then find cover.”

  Crivreen dragged what little furniture there was in the room over to the door, in an attempt to jam shut what was left of it, and then hunkered down behind the pile. I covered the human we were rescuing with my body as Ragnar tossed one of his runes up to the ceiling. There was a large blast and then I felt hot debris bouncing off my armor.

  As soon as the dust had cleared enough I saw that Ragnar had fired up a grappling cable and quickly ascended. “Crivreen, take the rear.” I climbed up the rope as quickly as I could without dropping the human. Below, Crivreen cast another wave of lightning to slow down the approaching troops. Once I was out of the hole, I signaled to Crivreen to follow.

  Crivreen didn’t bother with the cable. Instead, he teleported up into the air in a direct line of sight from where he was and used his jump jets to push him the rest of the way onto the ledge. Below us the prison guards were rushing towards the opening. “Crivreen, grenades - now!” I called out. You must remember you can do things like that! I chided myself. Teleportation would have been faster and safer than lugging this fellow up the rope.

  Crivreen pulled out two of his explosive grenades and tossed them down after the guards. Ragnar had already started to leave, so Crivreen and I ran to catch up with him without waiting to see if the grenades were effective. Somewhere behind us I heard them explode, and hoped they had at least slowed down our pursuers.

  “Felix, we’re on our way out,” I said over the comm., hoping that the scramblers had been taken out according to plan.

  “On our way,” he said. His message was crystal clear, which was good since it meant that the scramblers had been taken out, but also bad in the sense that it meant time was running out.

  We fought through several more corridors, staying just ahead of the troops, who were scattered and uncoordinated. It seemed Phareon’s forces had successfully disrupted their communication network, making our escape much easier. Still, we must be running low on time, and either the guards would rally and overpower us or Phareon would destroy the place around us very soon. Neither outcome was acceptable.

  “There’s a clearing up ahead; it should be big enough,” said Ragnar.

  “Okay, make haste!” I said. I activated the homing signal on my armor so that Felix could quickly locate us. All we had to do was reach somewhere with clear line of sight to the sky.

  “He’s going to have a hard time getting close under all that fire,” said Crivreen.

  “He doesn’t have to get too close, just enough to see us,” I said.

  As we approached the clearing, the Night Wisp flew by and Shira jumped into the air from the airlock. She spread out her arms as if she thought she could fly and glided away from the Night Wisp. Once she was clear she teleported to the ground. “Hurry!” she called out as she cast her gate spell. “He can’t keep the ship in range of my gate for long!”

  Overhead the Night Wisp was making a second pass as a two-dimensional blue oval opened in the air in front of us. Ragnar charged through first, followed by Crivreen and myself. Shira came last and closed the gate behind us. “We’re on board, Felix! Get us out of here!” I sent. Safely on board the Night Wisp, exhaustion set in and I had to lean against the wall for support as the powerful engines of the Night Wisp pushed hard against the planet’s atmosphere and gravity.

  Once I had caught my breath, Ragnar helped me secure the still-unconscious human as the Night Wisp completed its banking maneuver and accelerated out of the atmosphere. When we were clear of danger, Crivreen and Ragnar moved the human into sickbay and placed him in a hyberpod where he would stay in medical stasis until we could deliver him to the nearest Phareon base. He would need medical expertise I did not have to recover, but the pod would keep him safe until we got there.

  “Anyone get hurt this time?” asked Felix over the ship’s comm.

  “No, we seem to be getting better at this,” I said. My instincts told me the training and practice we were getting by running these missions would be critical for our future survival, but I didn’t understand why. I could not see into the future, and that was a problem for another day. “Call our contact and arrange for the drop-off.”

  Chapter Three

  “Zah’rak! There’s a call coming in on our private channel,” called out Crivreen.

  “Odd,” I said. “Put it through to my station.” We’d just dropped off the hostage we’d rescued and I wasn’t expecting a call for a new mission just yet, so I was a little concerned about getting a call on that channel.

  A man appeared on the screen whom I didn’t recognize; he appeared to be the same species as Ragnar, and there was something familiar about hi
s features that I couldn’t place. Something nagged at the back of my mind. I should know this person. Was it his eyes? No, they seemed unfamiliar too. My instincts told me I knew him, yet I couldn’t figure out who he might be.

  “Hello, old friend,” he said.

  The way he said that confirmed our previous acquaintance, but his voice was no more familiar than his face. Still there was that nagging feeling that I should know him. “Who are you?”

  “Zah’rak, it’s Byron. I know I look different. Is Ragnar there? I am sure he can verify my identity for you with his magic,” I said.

  That was surely impossible. “I was told Byron was dead.”

  “My race was discovered, and I had to fake my death to protect some people,” he said.

  I turned away from the screen and called for Ragnar. Whoever this was had private command channel codes that only Byron should have had and he knew Byron’s secret. That could mean he was involved in Byron’s death.

  When Ragnar came up, I sat him in front of the screen and turned back towards it. “Who is that?”

  “I am not sure. I cannot see his aura through this device,” said Ragnar.

  “Zah’rak, you picked up Ragnar in Korshalemia after using the gate in Narcion’s room.” The stranger then went on to tell us the details of the fight in which Narcion died. “What more proof do you need?”

  “Who are you?” asked Ragnar.

  “Special Agent Byron,” said the stranger.

  “I knew you weren’t dead!” shouted Ragnar.

  “Are you sure it’s Byron?” I asked.

  “He talks just like him, his recollection of events matches what Byron would have remembered, AND he has Byron’s command codes. Who else could it be?” asked Ragnar.

  “Thanks, Ragnar,” said the stranger. “I am known as Greymere now. The Byron identity must remain dead to protect those who helped me.”

  “Understood,” said Ragnar. “Where are you?”

  “I am on board the Nemesis with thirty or so magi and we need Zah’rak’s help,” he said. “We are near Hospital Station. Are you close by?”

  “Ragnar, are you sure this is Byron?” I sent privately. I wanted to believe our old friend was still alive, but it would be a dangerous mistake to be wrong about this.

  “Like I said, I can’t read his aura through this device, but it sure seems like it to me,” he sent back.

  “But why doesn’t it look or sound like him?” I sent.

  “If it is he, then he can’t risk being discovered in this body any more than he could in his previous one. Remember that everyone out here wants to kill him because of his race,” he sent.

  “How can we be sure?” I asked.

  “If I see him with my own eyes, I will know the truth,” he sent.

  I turned my focus back to the comm. “We can meet with you in two days at the following coordinates. Then Ragnar can read your aura and we will know the truth of this matter.” I then sent him our current coordinates.

  “Master Dusty, does that work for us?” Greymere asked of someone off-screen.

  “Yes,” came the answer.

  “Okay, Zah’rak; see you in two days,” said Greymere.

  “Did he say ‘Master Dusty?’” asked Ragnar.

  “Agreed,” I said and Greymere cut the channel.

  “I believe so, why?” I asked.

  “If he means THE Master Dusty, that is big news!” he said.

  “Who is this Dusty?” I asked.

  “Master Dusty is third in command of the Wizard Kingdom’s naval force,” he said.

  “Would that mean that Byron, or whatever he’s called now, is aboard a naval craft?” I asked.

  “Most likely,” said Ragnar.

  “Crivreen, can you hide us from them?” I asked.

  “If we shut down most of our power systems and give the ship time to cool before they arrive, we will look like just another piece of space debris and their sensors should automatically filter us out of their reports,” he said.

  “Do it, then,” I said.

  “Why are we going to hide if we intend to meet them here?” asked Ragnar.

  “I want the option to abort if we need it.” I left the bridge and went down to the room I had converted into my shop. We had just picked up some more supplies and I was experimenting with new materials, trying to improve our armor. The basic combination of leather, spider silk and cotton worked well to enchant our battle suits, but I wanted to know if there were other things I could use for different effects.

  It was the perfect project to work on with the Night Wisp running on lower power, as the process of enchantment would only work if I used all natural tools and only my bare hands. Any power tool or artificial part in the process would ruin the enchantment.

  The two days passed without event. Ragnar and Crivreen were excited about the prospect of meeting real wizards, but Felix was cautious. He had a real problem with authority and didn’t trust any military craft, even if the ‘dead’ Byron was on board.

  It was hard to tell what Shira thought of the whole thing. She worked hard to help out around the ship, but showed very few signs of emotion. I knew she was plagued by nightmares, but she refused to talk about them. Her years of service as a slave to a necromancer must have left a terrible legacy, and I could only imagine what haunted her at night.

  Eventually the time came for our meeting with Greymere and we agreed for him to fly over solo. If it really was Greymere, then crossing the hard vacuum of space should be easy for him, as his race was born and lived out its life in deep space.

  We all gathered at the airlock to greet whoever this was. I set the exterior door to open, and a man floated into the airlock without a space suit.

  “Only Byron could do that,” remarked Crivreen.

  “Or any other of his species,” added Felix.

  “Be ready,” I said and cycled the airlock to let him in.

  As he walked onto the Night Wisp, Greymere asked, “Okay, satisfied?”

  “It is definitely Byron,” Ragnar said.

  Crivreen, Ragnar and I had a flurry of questions for him, and eventually we extracted from him the information that his race had been discovered by an underling who wanted his job. He knew that exposure of his race would lead to the discovery of those who had helped him, and that could land them in jail or worse.

  After a short while he steered the conversation to the situation at hand. “Over there, cloaked, is the Nemesis, with magi on board who range from new apprentices to highly-trained wizards. More to the point, they have spell books for all the major spell lines.”

  I felt as if I could jump out of my scales. “Even mine?”

  “Yes, and that’s why we are here,” he said. “In a recent trip to the Spirit Realm my armor was destroyed and I need a new set. Master Dusty and Master Spectra, my superiors, would like to barter for new armor for me and also some spares. So what do you say, knowledge for armor?”

  “Hold on,” interjected Ragnar. “Did you just say ‘Master Dusty and Master Spectra’?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Do you know them?”

  “Master Dusty is third in command of the Wizards Kingdom’s Navy, and Master Spectra is his wife. I never met them, but they are famous,” he said.

  “Would you like to meet them?” he asked. “We can dock the two ships together and our cloak will more than cover the Night Wisp.” The Night Wisp was a much smaller ship than the Nemesis, so the additional mass and energy that the cloak would need to cover it was relatively small.

  Crivreen almost jumped out of his armor when he said that. “You mean we can meet real wizards?”

  “As real as you are,” he said.

  “I’ll go right up to the bridge!” responded Crivreen. “Just ask them to contact me so we can interlink our computers, and we can be docked in no time.”

  As Crivreen ran off Greymere turned to me. “Just to warn you, Nemesis is a special kind of
ship and, well, not all its occupants are what you would describe as normal; but they are all my friends, so don’t be afraid.”

  “What would I have to be afraid of?” I asked.

  He just smiled and said, “You’ll see.”

  Crivreen worked with someone on their side to dock the Night Wisp to the Nemesis and came down to join us at the airlock. Felix stated that someone should stay behind and make sure the Night Wisp was secure and headed towards the bridge. I assumed that meant he was volunteering for the job.

  Master Dusty and Master Spectra met us at the airlock and, once he’d been introduced to them, Ragnar bowed deeply and said, “I am honored to meet you both. I have heard many tales of your adventures, but never expected to be fortunate enough to come into your presence.”

  A human woman with red hair walked into the room and said, “Ragnar? What are you doing here?”

  “Shea? I should ask you the same!” he said.

  “So you two know each other?” asked Greymere.

  “Ragnar used to buy potions from me back in Korshalemia, but I have not seen him in many seasons,” she said.

  “How is your brother? Is he here, too?” asked Ragnar.

  “No, he stayed behind,” she replied and they wandered off to catch up on old times.

  Greymere gave us a tour of the Nemesis and introduced us to Nanny and Nemesis himself. Once that was finished, we left Shira and Criveen in the mess hall with Nanny while Zah’rak, Master Dusty, Master Spectra and I moved into a conference room.

  “A ghost cook and a living ship,” I commented. “No wonder you warned me!”

  “Masters, Zah’rak and I used to hunt wraiths together,” Greymere informed them and then related some of our adventures.

  “A table?’ exclaimed Master Dusty. “Describe it to me.”

  When he had done so, Master Spectra said, “I found none out this way. How long ago did you destroy it?”