Hatchling

by Chris Fox

  It was already active, with all three rings slowly spinning around the area I was meant to stand in. A glowing ring stood at waist height…the stabilizing ring, in case the ship took a hit and I took a tumble.

  “Well, here goes.” I ducked between the silver and gold rings as they hummed past, and then stepped onto the slightly raised silver disk anchoring the matrix to the deck.

  I tapped the void sigil on all three rings in rapid succession. Theoretically I could have done fire, and some ships could even accept dream, but void was the undisputed master of travel. Especially in space.

  The ship rumbled as a chunk of negative light rolled out of my chest. Wave after wave fell onto the disk below me, which drank it greedily. The flow stopped, and my connection to the ship finalized.

  It was…the experience defied description. I was still me, but I was also the ship. I could feel every part of her, including her spellcannon, which I could use if I needed. I wiggled her sensors like fingers, her diagnostics like toes. And I could will her to fly.

  Before lifting off I took a moment to size up the situation outside the ship. A sea of spectral figures from many different races and eras all surged toward the Remora. I’d never seen wights, and was unprepared for the malevolence rolling off them like a cloud of exhaust from some old combustion vehicle. They hated the living. Hated us.

  Cinaka and her hatchlings had retreated into the ship, and Seket stood at the doorway blocking the wights as they climbed the ramp.

  “Inura, protect me!” he bellowed and a wave of golden energy sprang out around him, identical to the one I’d seen Vee use.

  Where she prayed to the Maker, though, he prayed to the god I assumed had given birth to the Inurans.

  The wights met the edge of his ward, and stopped with a screech, unable to advance. Vee raised a hand behind him and launched a beam of pure white light into the closest wight. The creature flickered into a negative image for a single instant, and then faded to memory, as if erased from existence by a disintegrate.

  I remembered that I was supposed to be piloting, and guided the Remora off the deck and toward the shimmering blue membrane separating us from space.

  “Buckle up, everyone. We’re entering a vacuum.” We rippled through the membrane, wights spilling off the ramp like the last leaves of autumn, and then we were into the black, lost in the shadow of a Great Ship.

  I could still see the ship, which included the cargo hold. Seket dispelled his aura, whatever it had been, and then yanked off his helmet with a hiss. Vee stood next to him panting, but she straightened, her eyes slightly widened and her cheeks flushed when she glimpsed the paladin’s face.

  Golden hair spilled down well muscled shoulders, and they framed a man so handsome that it made me believe that the blood of Inura flowed in his veins. He was, quite literally, perfect.

  Envy surged up like bile. I’d have given a great deal to earn even a single glance like that from Vee. I didn’t like the anger or resentment toward Seket, even as I recognized that they were unfounded. So I jettisoned them, or pretended to at least.

  I had a job to do and focused on that. I pushed my consciousness into the Remora’s senses, and focused on flying. A heady rush washed through me, salving my ego.

  Flying was amazing.

  22

  I guided the Remora away from the Flame, and toward a derelict carrier missing half its hull. We sheltered in the shadow, while I tried to get my bearings. Flying the ship was far easier than I’d feared it would be. I’d had no trouble bonding it, and thus far I simply willed it where I wanted to go.

  I hadn’t been trained though, and if we got jumped I did not want to be the guy standing in those rings. I’d do it if we had no better option, but I already knew that Captain Perfect was probably the most amazing lover—I mean pilot—that had ever lived.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t catch up. I was a fast learner. That began with magical communications. I concentrated on the vessel, and realized I could activate ship wide simply by thinking about it. “Everyone, this is your captain speaking. We’re going dark while we get our bearings. Cinaka, Lawl, please get your people situated, then meet me in the mess. Kurz and the rest of my squad, please escort Seket to the mess as well. It’s time we compared notes.”

  I tapped the void sigil on all three rings to disengage, then ducked through the rings. It wasn’t as hard as I’d expected, as they moved slowly and intuitively. Such an odd piloting system. I wished I understood why they’d been built this way.

  I left the bridge and headed back to the mess, and was mildly surprised to find a completely different room. I mean, I knew logically where I was, but my brain kept supplying info from my version of the Remora.

  The new version was way better.

  A pair of familiar black boxes, both with the dragon logo, had been built along one wall. The rest of the wall was devoted to the control panel, and to many, many vials of materials. Tables hovered throughout the room, each surrounded by hoverchairs.

  The room looked like it could comfortably accommodate a good thirty people, and even had a sign with refuse on it pointing toward the foundry, which would reclaim the molecules for reuse.

  “Hey, Vee,” I said into the comm, certain she could hear the grin in my voice. “You’re going to love what you find in the mess.”

  I heard approaching footsteps, and Cinaka stepped into the room, followed by Briff. The hatchlings took one of the far tables, and sat together, where they conversed in low tones. I hadn’t been wrong about the chemistry there.

  Next came Seket, followed closely by Kurz and Vee. Seket blazed an aggressive path in my direction, and stopped well within what I considered my personal space. He was just as handsome in person. His breath even smelled like mint.

  “We have a problem.” Seket fixed me with those icy eyes, and his grip tightened on the hilt of his spellblade. “You introduced yourself as captain. Well, I don’t recognize you as captain. I let you aboard, and I saved you and your crew from wights, but I have not ceded command.”

  “All by yourself?” I snapped. My eyes narrowed, and a hot flush rolled through my entire body. “I piloted the ship. Vee helped you take down wights, and while you might feel like you’re hot shit, everything you did she can do too. Vee has exactly the same miracle you used to keep the wights at bay.”

  That brought Vee’s attention to our conversation. She’d been inspecting the forge’s control panel, and I could hardly blame her for that. She said nothing.

  “The fact remains.” Seket’s perfect eyes narrowed into twin chips of ice. “This is my ship. It belonged to Patra, my soulcatcher. With her death it belongs to me.”

  How could I be so blind? I suppose it was fair to forget about it during all the turmoil, but I realized I was holding the key to Seket’s cooperation in my pocket. So I produced it.

  I opened my palm and showed him the prophecy scale. “Activate it.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Because it will prove we’re telling the truth.” I offered it to him again, and he raised a hand to accept it. “You can study it at your leisure, but you’re going to want to meet the scale’s archivist.”

  “Fine.” Seket rubbed his suit’s thumb along the scale, and it activated as it had for me.

  As before, Patra’s flowing blond hair and easy smile appeared in the illusion over the scale. She took one look at Seket, and that smile evaporated. “Oh, you poor boy. I am so sorry. This is more than any paladin should have to deal with, especially one who was an apprentice just days ago.”

  Seket’s rocky exterior finally cracked, and he stumbled a step back, dropping the scale to the deck. It winked out as it left his hand, though the tremor it left remained. The paladin was clearly shaken.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and scooped up the scale from the deck. I’d give it back to him when he was ready. In the meantime I could probably study it again. “What did she mean by apprentice?”

  “I was a paladin
elect as recently as last week,” Seket snapped. His gaze shot up to meet mine, and I could feel the anger at me. All of it was focused on me.

  “You didn’t fight like an anything-elect,” Rava said from behind him. She kept a wary distance, and one hand rested casually on her spellpistol. “You could solo most Arena teams, in that armor.”

  “I did fight like an elect.” He barked a derisive laugh that made him ugly for only a moment. “You’re just bad. All of you. A faded shadow of the world my people built.”

  “Maybe.” My voice was ice now, and in that moment my dislike solidified. “As I understand it, your people are why it all came apart. My people, your ancestors, survived by finding our way down to the planet in this system. You know, after that war that you lost.”

  Vee appeared as if she wanted to say something, but gave a disgusted sigh and returned to the forge.

  “You are not my descendants, nor my people.” Seket’s hand tightened around his blade to match mine.

  “If you draw that blade we’re going to have a problem.” I forced a deep breath, and released my sidearm. “My squad can and will take you down, but I’d much rather work together. You’re right. I’m not your descendant. But I can tell you about them, if you’d like. They just blew up my planet, and killed billions of people.”

  Seket’s hand left his blade, even as the anger drained from his expression. “You’ve lost your world? I—mine was destroyed just days ago, from my perspective. I am sorry.”

  “And so am I.” I offered a hand in friendship, and he shook it. Apparently that custom was older than either of our cultures. “The Inuran Consortium is led by a woman named Jolene. They’ve got a trade moon in the system, and are here to steal the Great Ships. They want the Flame of Knowledge. They also want the Word of Xal. They blew up my planet to get them.”

  The righteous anger returned to the paladin’s expression, though it no longer appeared directed at me. He folded heavily muscled arms, made even more attractive in that golden armor.

  “The Consortium was new in our day. I am…unsurprised to learn of their treachery.” Seket shook his head sadly. “They worked with Nefarius, who tore apart the dragonflights. Our whole galaxy burned. I wonder if there are even embers left after so long?”

  Something clicked in my head.

  “You’re one of the embers,” I realized aloud, suddenly excited. “Patra sent you! You’re a paladin, with all the knowledge of the dragonflights.”

  “He can teach us,” Kurz added quietly from where he’d been sitting. I hadn’t even been aware he was listening, as he was staring at his lap. “He can restore the knowledge of our religion as it was, and help us understand who we are meant to be.”

  “Why send me? Why not someone with more wisdom, or experience?” Seket licked his lips and cocked his head as if tasting the answer to his own question, and not enjoying it. “Maybe I was all she had.”

  “Regardless of why you’re here,” I interjected. We had problems, and were on the clock. “I’m hoping we can ask your help in dealing with the Inurans. They’re going to try to take these ships. If we can get you back to the Word of Xal we can see if they’ve made their move yet, and maybe even stop them.”

  Seket turned back to me, and his expression hardened into an alloy of resolve and dedication. “I will help you, Captain Jerek, until you give me cause to do otherwise. Lead us into battle.”

  23

  A mixture of relief and frustration washed through me as Seket stepped into the matrix to pilot the Remora.

  “You’re sure you want to let him do this?” Rava asked quietly as she folded her arms and stared hard at the paladin. “Pretty boy can’t be good at everything, and I’d trust you to fly us before I’d trust him.”

  That got a laugh out of me, which I didn’t realize I’d needed so badly.

  “If he’s flown even once he has more experience than I do.” I shook my head and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I do plan to master flying, but maybe when we’re not charging into potential combat.”

  “Are missives still jammed in this system?” Vee asked from the corner of the room where she’d been standing with Kurz. They’d been chatting in low urgent tones, but I was trying to honor their privacy.

  I sketched a fire sigil, then a dream, then a fire. The spell resolved, but didn’t zip off as a missive normally would. It simply hovered there, as if confused.

  “Looks like it. We’re going to have to make contact manually.” Even as I said it I knew that was wrong though. There was another way I could communicate with the minister.

  The Web of Divinity.

  I was linked to it now, and as long as I didn’t mind a face full of mind-melting insanity, then that was an option. I’d bet scales to rocks that I could use the Web to brute force my way through whatever the Inurans had set up. I was half tempted to do it right now, just because I knew it would piss off the Inurans.

  “Seket, can you take us to the Word of Xal?” I nodded at the scry-screen, which showed my ship in the distance. It was a damned sight for sore eyes. “Odds are good the minister will be close by.”

  Seket tapped the life sigil on all three rings, and the Remora hummed to life. “I see him, and will get us there. I also see a gigantic sphere nearly as large as a Great Ship. Is that the Consortium’s monstrosity?”

  “That’s the trade moon,” I confirmed, though I’d never seen it in person. I’d heard of them, and they featured in a number of holos, usually as the antagonist.

  The Remora leapt into motion, and accelerated an order of magnitude faster than we’d have managed with conventional engines.

  We spun past the destroyer where Visala had ambushed us, and then past the cruiser where we’d sheltered on our approach. Seket zipped across the vast gulf between the hulks around the Flame, and those orbiting around the Word of Xal.

  “What’s that?” Vee asked. I followed her gaze and realized she was focused on a ship on the far side of the Word.

  “I recognize that ship,” I realized aloud. “Briff, is that Bortel’s new carrier? The one the Inurans gave him to get those ten legions off planet?”

  “They’ve deployed fighter screens,” Rava pointed out. She nodded at the area around the Word. “That’s a pretty clear perimeter too. They’ve staked out the Word. They’re isolating her from people like us.”

  “Their comms are still working, too,” I growled. I needed to find us an advantage. “That means they’ll all know we’re here any moment now. Anyone have eyes on the minster’s ship?”

  Seket cracked his knuckles, then rolled his neck as if enacting a familiar pre-Arena ritual. He finished by resting on the balls of his feet, and enacting a series of rapid breaths.

  “That wing of fighters is headed our direction.” Rava pointed at the closest group, who’d left their flight pattern around the Word and were now headed in our direction.

  “Seket, is there anything we can do?” I felt greedy, but suddenly I wished we had more than one matrix. Even a single one was a luxury, but if we’d had two I could handle offense while Seket flew.

  “Watch,” Seket crooned, “and be amazed.”

  The Remora accelerated again, and we hurled through space at our opponents. It would be a jousting match. They’d get one volley, and so would we, then we’d be past each other and they’d have to circle around for another pass.

  All three spellfighters were Mk. VII, which wasn’t top of the line, but was better than average. Each discharged a life bolt as we approached, but at the last possible instant Seket stabbed the life sigil on the gold ring, then the bronze, then the silver.

  A cocoon of wards wove themselves over the hull just before the spells hit, and all three did nothing but discolor it.

  “My turn.” Seket’s eyes narrowed, and he tapped life on gold, then poured a thick wave of life magic from his chest into the deck.

  The whole ship rumbled as the spellcannon discharged the spell. I could feel the magic beneath my feet, feel it streak o
ut of the ship, and then saw it on the scry-screen as it streaked into the fighter on the left.

  Everything from the nose to the canopy simply ceased to exist. The fighter’s remains cartwheeled for a few moments, then detonated spectacularly.

  “Yes!” Vee yelled and pumped a fist. “It should take the remaining two a few minutes to reach us.” She gave Seket a grin, which he returned.

  “Do you have a destination, Captain?” Seket demanded. “Other patrols are starting to head in our direction.”

  “Use the Word as cover,” I instructed. “Follow the hull onto the underbelly, then latch onto the deck near the center.”

  Seket gave me a look that suggested my mind was gone. “You realize that’s suicide, right? We’d be a stationary target.”

  “Do it!” I roared. “Or get out of the matrix and let me do it.”

  My heart thundered as the next wave of fighters approached. I wasn’t certain my plan would work, but I had to try.

  I ordered my helmet to slither over my face, and spoke the very instant the HUD had lit. “Guardian, can you hear me?”

  We were flying fast and low along the hull, and I figured whatever the Inurans were doing, it couldn’t be that bad with us being so close.

  “I can hear you, Captain.” Kemet didn’t appear, which suggested the Guardian was still limited. “I am pleased you live. The vessel is under full assault. Two full legions have taken the bridge, while the others are moving against the cargo hold containing Highspire.”

  “Not now,” I snapped. “Do we have enough magic to activate the point defense cannons on this side of the ship, the ones closest to this transmission?”

  “We do,” Kemet confirmed. “They are now active.”

  I exhaled in relief, and shifted my attention to the scry-screen. Seket did as I’d ordered, and guided the Remora to a stop against the Word’s hull. Our magnets engaged, and we locked into place. A sitting duck, whatever a duck was.