“Feel like the filling in a sandwich?," asked Crystal.
“I don’t know,” replied Felix. “I’ve never been in a sandwich with four blokes before. You?”
Crystal shook her head and made a wry face. “I’m not that sort of girl. Religious, remember.”
“Your religious inclination didn’t seem to stand in the way of you and I.”
“That’s different," she said, throwing the best smile she could at him while running.
“How so”?
“You’ve got a great arse."
Felix shrugged. “Works for me."
Reaching another T-junction, Logan turned left into a corridor sloping upwards. There were still no signs of any Templars or Nephillim. In fact, the corridors were devoid of any people at all – presumably, everyone had finally taken the evacuate warning seriously and made their way to the lifepods. Arriving at the small service lift, Tarquin used the manual override and instructed it to take them down one level to the docking bay. Squeezing into the lift, Felix smiled nervously over his shoulder at the two Transplanters. He wish he hadn’t when they returned his grin. A smiling Polar Bear and Gorilla weren’t pretty sights.
“Okay," said Logan. “When the lift doors open, I’ll launch a couple of smoke grenades into the docking bay and cover you. You lot make your way to Tarquin’s ship which should be about 100 meters directly to our lift. Questions?”
“Can I have a gun?," said Crystal. Tarquin quietly handed her one of his plasma guns.
“Anything else?”
“Got any good booze on your ship?," Derek asked.
“As much as you can drink.”
“I can drink a lot”
Bruce nodded sagely.
“Look, I think we have more pressing problems than sorting out a cocktail party," said Logan. Any rejoinders were cut short by the lift coming to a halt. The doors started to open.
◊
After failing to receive a report from the assault squad sent to shadow Logan and Tarquin, Asel decided to send a couple more Nephillim to assess the situation. They reported back that the squad had been found – cut to pieces.
Asel gestured to his Lieutenant. “Assemble my personal guard and have them wait for me outside the ship.” It would seem that he would have to take a more active role in this – especially if Simbiel was now massacring his men willy nilly.
Exiting the bridge, Asel made his way out of the ship. Outside, he found his personal guard, dressed in identical battle armor, waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp. Walking towards the docking bay main doors, Asel recognized the unmistakable sound of a rocket launch.
“Take cover," he said to his men, activating his personal field. He watched as two projectiles arched over a small ship some 200 meters away from him, landed, and immediately started pumping out thick black smoke. The projectiles had come from the opposite direction of the main doors.
Using his AI, Asel ordered a squad in that direction. “It could be a distraction," he warned. “Be prepared.”
Confident that the situation was still well in hand, Asel, together with his personal guard continued on towards the main door. Plasma blasts could be seen penetrating through the smoke on the far side of the docking bay. Silence momentarily filled the area as the plasma blasts suddenly stopped. The main doors opened revealing a large winged figure and three smaller figures, all carrying swords. They stepped forward, enabling Asel to see their faces.
“Hello Simbiel. Its been far too long. You shouldn’t be such a stranger." Both Angel and Watcher drew their swords.
◊
As soon as the lift doors opened, Logan immediately walked out and fired two smoke grenades from the launcher below his plasma cannon. Felix, Cystal, Tarquin and the two Transplanters took off towards Tarquin’s ship.
Two figures clad in battle armor appeared out of the smoke and fired plasma blasts towards Logan. His AI calmly targeted the closest and fired a blast from his plasma cannon, hitting the figure in the head and knocking him off his feet. Logan felt a blast hit his chest and flew backwards hitting the wall with a bone jarring thud. His AI needlessly reported that the suit had been penetrated as he felt plasma scorching his chest. Crawling to his knees, he looked up to find the other suited figure pointing his cannon at him from less than a meter away. Combat options, provided by his AI, flew through his head in less than a nanosecond. Choosing one, he threw one of his legs around and out, faster than the eye could follow, knocking his assailant off his feet. Jumping up, Logan placed one strength enhanced leg on the prone figures chest and fired his canon point blank into its head. Armor, brain and bone exploded beneath him.
Three more figures appeared out of the smoke. Another blast hit him in the leg. Now limping and having difficulty breathing, Logan took off in the direction of Tarquin’s ship.
◊
Tynan and two Templars exited the service lift and found themselves in the smoke filled docking area. Using his AI, he informed Simbiel of his position. An armored, headless figure lay on the ground near the lift door. The sounds of plasma blasts could be heard echoing around. Recalling the position of Tarquin’s ship from memory, Tynan led his men in that direction. A plasma blast streaked past his head, knocking one of his Templars to the ground.
Taking cover, Tynan and his one remaining Templar slowly continued towards the ship. He could make out two bodies lying on the ground. Another figure was stealthily moving towards the ship ahead of him, about to shoot a limping armored shape just in front. A group was milling around Tarquin’s ship some 50 meters ahead. Taking aim, he shot the closest figure in the back and watched it slump to the ground.
Two transplanters ran out from the ship and helped the limping figure up the ramp. With somewhat of a shock, Tynan recognized them from the Hedonist ball. Outnumbered and outgunned, Tynan decided that patience was the better part of valor and settled down to wait for Simbiel.
◊
Simbiel had his own problems. His three remaining Templars were now smoking corpses on the ground whilst the Nephillim had taken no losses.
He and Asel had risen into the air, facing each other through their respective fields. Simbiel’s glowing blue field almost looked drab compared to Asel’s nimbus.
Although the Slipdrive was a by product of field technology, the fields themselves were seen as being one of the more important technological developments in the history of humankind - not only in space exploration but in every day usage. Fields could be manipulated to fulfill many different requirements including ship protection, matter containment and vacuum plugs.
Nanotechnology had reduced the size of the components required to produce a field dramatically over the centuries but never small enough so that an unassisted human could carry one around effectively. Smaller hand held devices, such as those used by Snareball gladiators, were very heavy, weak and had extremely limited ranges. The majority of fields were used on ships where size generally wasn’t an issue. Ship board fields were used to fend off comets and asteroids, protect from conventional weaponry and ensure that passengers wouldn’t inflict bodily harm to one another over arguments concerning smoke.
Fields varied in strength. The weakest could enclose matter such as smoke, gas or vacuum whilst the strongest could repulse all but the most powerful plasma cannons. Repeated blasts or the use of a powerful disruptor cannon, could of course pierce the fields for limited periods.
Military designers and strategists had tried for centuries to reduce the size of field generators to enable humans to carry effective and powerful versions on their persons. The more ambitious attempted to modify humans to generate the fields themselves. Widespread genetic tinkering didn’t appear to bring the researchers any closer to achieving their goal. It was thought that the advantages a soldier would have on a battlefield easily justified the amount of time and money invested in the research. Huge teams of scientists were assembled, exploited, and mocked for their fashion sense. Revenues from entire developed worlds were injected. A
ll had failed. That is until the Areopagite’s came around.
Shortly after the formation of the Areopagite’s, Angels were born. It was discovered soon after that all Angels had the ability to inherently generate and manipulate fields. No explanation or scientific report was given for this unprecedented ability. When asked, representatives of the Areopagite’s would explain that it was “gods will." Many scoffed, quite a few laughed and the odd one or two wet themselves, but the vast majority grew quiet contemplating the implications. Additionally, the ranks of would be Areopagites swelled dramatically, drawn largely from those wanting to get into gods good books.
As the hierarchy of angels was developed, it soon became apparent that, in terms of field generation, Angels of the First Hierarchy were far more powerful than their lower brethren. The most powerful Angels could generate fields equivalent to those on medium sized ships. This made the Angelic royalty almost invulnerable to conventional weaponry. It was seen as a truism that if you wanted to fuck over a royal Angel, make sure you brought your battle cruiser. There were, however, handheld (well, assisted by a powered battle suit) field disruptors, developed in secret and available for ridiculous sums on the black market, that were capable of penetrating an Angels field and thus making them temporarily vulnerable.
Unfortunately for Simbiel, he carried only a sword. He knew he was in trouble. He’d met Asel once before on less volatile terms and knew the Watcher had his measure. The Watcher he faced was equivalent to a Throne – the third order of the First Hierarchy. Simbiel was only a Power, sixth order, Second Hierarchy. As such he couldn’t hope to win. With growing frustration, anger and few or no options left, Simbiel knew he was fucked. His anger certainly wasn’t helped by the contemptuous smile on Asel’s face.
“You really should have left this to the big boys, you know," Asel said condescendingly.
“Fuck you." Simbiel feinted and then struck out at Asel’s head with his sword. Asel didn’t bother to block. The sword, with a brilliant flaring, bounced harmlessly off his field. To the watching Nephillim, it appeared Simbiel had flinched from Asel’s blazing aura.
With a roar, Simbiel struck again, achieving the same result.
“That’s the spirit. Come on, I know you can do better," mocked Asel.
Simbiel, channeling his rage, struck once again with all his might. Asel was forced to bring his sword up and block Simbiel’s which just managed to penetrate his field.
“Excellent. Love your work," Asel continued conversationally. He paused and lowered his eyelid, obviously receiving a communiqué from his AI. Simbiel used the distraction to penetrate Asel’s field again. Asel blocked with ease and then opened his left eye with a look of shock on his face.
“Fuck. Love to keep dancing, Simbiel old boy, but I’m afraid the party’s moving to a new venue. Ta ta.”
Asel raised his sword up and launched it with blinding speed at Simbiel’s head. Simbiel watched in horror as his sword, which he brought up to block, was cut in two. Asel’s sword continued onwards, completing its journey by burying itself up to the hilt in Simbiel’s eye. Simbiel’s field disappeared and he fell to the ground, lying quite dead, shock evident on his frozen face.
Asel floated to the ground where he retrieved his sword from Simbiel’s skull. He turned towards his Nephillim.
“Back to the ship. Now!”
◊
Tarquin was already on the bridge and priming the ship for launch when Logan was brought into the ship’s lounge by the two Transplanters. Felix and Crystal were already seated around a table in the lounge. They laid Logan down on one of the couches.
“Where’s the bar?," Derek asked.
Logan pointed upwards and then put his armored arm down with a groan. Felix and Crystal helped him out of his armor.
“Fuckola," said Felix, looking at wounds scattered around Logan’s body. “I’d hate to see the other guy.” He disappeared returning with wound sealant and nanoskin regrowth. Logan sighed as Felix sprayed the wound sealant on his injuries. Crystal placed the nanoskin particle over the now closed wounds and watched as it grew, finally joining up with Logan’s normal skin. The only evidence that Logan had been injured at all were patches of lighter skin.
“Goddamn. That feels better. I probably owe those Transplanters my life.”
Felix looked down at him. “You trust them?”
“Yeah, they seem alright to me. Not that we really had any choice at the time.”
Struggling up, he made his way to the bridge. Taking the seat next to Tarquin, he watched through the screens as the ship lifted out of its docking cradle and made its way towards the field exit. Passing the Watcher ship, small armored figures fired plasma weapons at the departing yacht. The Debacherous Weekend’s fields easily fended off the assault and continued past.
The ship’s screens momentarily turned blue as they passed through the giant ship’s exit field, emerging into the colored maelstrom of the gas giant’s outer atmosphere. Two tiny lifepods streaked past heading for the relative safety of open space. Tarquin turned off the AG and brought the Ion drive on line, quickly bringing his ship up to maximum velocity.
Emerging out of the gas giant’s atmosphere, The Debacherous Weekend found itself gliding past numerous escape pods, their small ion engines appearing as very bright blue stars against the backdrop of the star field.
“I’ll launch a marker buoy," said Tarquin. “The Minx has got a couple of hours at least until it impacts. Rescue ships should make it here by then.” He turned his head and yelled into the lounge.
“Felix, Crystal. Get in here."
The couple arrived, standing behind the command seats in the bridge.
“So, where now?” asked Tarquin.
“Set a course for Fever," said Crystal.
“The disco asteroid?," a surprised Logan asked.
“Yep," she replied. “That’s where we’re meeting our boss," she said indicating Felix.
“Our?," a puzzled Logan asked.
Felix shrugged. “Turns out Crystal and I share the same employer."
Tarquin closed one eye, consulting his ship’s AI and preparing for the move into Nospace.
Logan turned to look at Crystal. “Why there?”
“Our employer doesn’t want to let the other parties who are interested in the Overdrive know who the actual developers are.” She winked at Felix.
“Fever is neutral territory and fairly close to our eventual destination. Besides,” she added, “its a fairly unlikely place to hand over technology that could well change society as we know it."
Felix looked thoughtful. “It hadn’t actually occurred to me, what with all that shooting, screaming and running going on, but how do I know you’re who you say you are? For all I know, you could be just another of these “interested parties” wanting to suck my brains out and steal the technology for themselves.”
She looked at him with a half smile. “Turn on your AI," she said quietly. Felix did so. “Remember that query you fired at Nebula Inc’s AI back on Coleridge and how it gave you instructions?," she asked.
“Well, yes.”
“In the data package that you received, there should be a small visual file you can’t open. Is that so?”
Felix consulted his AI and realized that this was the case. “Yep."
Crystal fired a code at Felix. The previously inaccessible file opened immediately revealing a picture of Crystal.
“Satisfied?," she asked him.
“As much as my paranoia and skepticism will allow.”
“That’ll have to do then.”
Tarquin had by now found the path to Fever. “We can’t go directly there. The route between here and Fever has a Shiva guardian. We’re gonna have to go around which will take us at least another week.”
Crystal shook her head. “Nope. We can’t afford the time. Besides, I have something that should take care of the Shiva.”
Logan looked shocked. “What! There’s nothing apart from an Areopagite that c
an circumvent the Shiva."
Crystal smiled. If she’d been a man, the expression on her face probably would have been interpreted as supreme arrogance. On a woman it was seductive. “You just leave it up to me," she said patting Logan on the face.
Logan and Felix shared an uncomfortable look. Tarquin shrugged and turned back to the viewscreens.
“Ok then. Thirty seconds until Slipdrive activation. Course: Fever, set. ETA, five days. Stand by for transition. You may notice a small twinge," said Tarquin, assuming the mannerisms of a host aboard a pleasure cruiser.
Logan looked at Crystal skeptically. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Crystal smiled again and walked out of the bridge. Unheard by the three men behind her she mumbled “So do I. So do I."
Her slipdrive activated, the Debacherous Weekend took less than a picosecond to enter Nospace. One moment she existed in real space, the next she was gone.
Unnoticed behind them, a Watcher ship emerged from the gas giant’s atmosphere. Reaching minimum safe distance, it immediately activated its Slipdrive.
◊
As soon as Asel stepped through the main doors on the Watcher Trireme, he ordered the Captain to take off.
“But some of our men are still out there," the Captain protested.
“Captain, unless you wish to join them, I would, if I were you, which thankfully I’m not, take off immediately."
The Captain, torn between loyalty to his men and loyalty to his own derriere, made his decision.
“Yes Lord." The Watcher ship rose and made its way to the exit field. Ahead of it, the Debacherous Weekend had already disappeared through the glowing field.
Asel, arriving on the bridge and seating himself in the command chair, was again addressed by the Captain.
“What are my orders Lord?”
“Follow the pleasure yacht that just left. If you loose it, you will not only loose your testicles but also the ability to perform many activities normal men take for granted.”
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