Bane of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 1)

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Bane of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 1) Page 8

by Jacob Holo


  “Yeah, thought of that too.” Jack unclasped the hands behind his back and brought one of them slowly up. He put the barrel of the gun against his temple. “I figure why settle for one method of killing myself when I can be doubly sure? I shoot myself in the head, then fall into the pit. Bang, then splat. If you’re going to do something, go all the way. Besides, you Aktenai are just way too good at putting people back together.”

  “Just step away from the ledge,” Quennin asked. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Look, you’ve caught me at a really awkward moment here,” Jack said. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to do this, okay? And the two of you being here are not helping.”

  “How inconsiderate of us.” Seth edged closer.

  “Stop this,” Quennin said. “This is insane!”

  “Yes, it is. And that’s the problem. Now, Seth, that’s close enough. Why don’t you stop right there? My trigger finger is feeling itchy, and I’d hate to blow my brains out where you can see it. How about you both turn around so you don’t have to see the mess?”

  Seth started walking to the side, circling Jack at a set distance.

  “Okay, fine,” Jack said. “Watch the brains splatter out of my head. I won’t care at that point, anyway.”

  “Jack, please don’t do this!” Quennin pleaded.

  “Look, I’m not killing myself because I want to die. Believe me, I’d rather not. But the truth of the matter is my thoughts are no longer my own. This thing—” Jack pointed the gun at the seraph. “—is in my head. I’ve got voices bouncing around in me, and some of them are angry. Some of them want blood, and I don’t think I can control them forever. I’m a danger to you and everyone else. And so, before I have a chance to hurt someone I care about, I’m ending this. It’s as simple as that. Really, it’s for your own good.”

  Seth stopped next to the catapult pit’s edge. He looked down as if inspecting the drop.

  “Jack?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  Seth broke into a sprint. He charged straight at Jack, running along the pit’s edge.

  “Stay back!” Jack shouted.

  Seth leaped and tackled him. They crashed to the ground next to the edge. Jack’s gun smacked against the decking and went off. The bolt ricocheted around the bay until it flattened against the seraph’s armor.

  Jack shoved Seth’s face back and tried to put the gun to his own head, but Quennin grabbed the barrel with both hands. She forced it to the ground and pinned his forearm under her knee.

  “No, you don’t!” Quennin shouted.

  “Get off of me!”

  “This is what I think of your plan!” Seth shouted.

  He straddled Jack’s chest and punched him in the face, breaking his nose with a wet crack.

  “This is for your own good!”

  Seth pounded Jack’s face again. Teeth cut the inside of Jack’s lips.

  “This is to protect you from yourself!”

  Seth swung into the side of Jack’s jaw and connected in a shower of spit and blood. He stopped and sat back on Jack’s stomach, panting.

  “Ouch…” Jack whimpered.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” Seth said. Tears began streaming down his cheeks. “If you do, I swear I will kill you myself!”

  “You know, that’s not much of a disincentive.”

  Seth snarled. He raised his arm and pounded Jack in the face over and over again. Stars filled Jack’s vision, and then everything went dark.

  Chapter 7

  Seraph Assault

  Two days after speaking with the Sovereign, seraph pilots prepared for combat aboard the Resolute.

  Quennin pulled her arm through the i-suit sleeve. With both arms in, she began locking the waist seals.

  The formfitting interface suit was thicker than a standard pressure suit. Its highly textured skin provided a massive amount of surface area for its size, aiding in the connection between pilot and seraph. For feedback damage, the spongy mesh underneath could extrude fibrous threads into her body to perform emergency surgery.

  She gripped the neck ring and fed her long red hair in so the helmet would fit.

  “Shouldn’t you be off by now?” Quennin asked.

  Zo leaned against the wall of Quennin’s spacious quarters. The wall screen displayed the robot fleet amassed near the Resolute. Two dreadnoughts, six frigates, and a negator hovered in formation. The negator was a stubby cylinder nearly as large as the dreadnoughts, its hull dotted with formidable close-in defenses.

  “I still have time before the carrier makes its final fold.” Zo fiddled with the cuffs of her Renseki coat.

  “Yonu will be fine, I assure you.” Quennin slipped her sidearm into its holster.

  Zo continued playing with her cuffs.

  “Tevyr will be with her,” Quennin said, grabbing her gloves.

  “I know, but Vorin should have permitted the Renseki to handle this. They’re just so young.”

  “We were both younger when we first went into battle,” Quennin said.

  “But we had experienced pilots backing us up.”

  “Seth and I aren’t experienced?”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Zo said. “None of us know what to expect from those archangels.”

  “She’ll be in good company,” Quennin said.

  Two full squadrons of good company, to be precise: twelve Aktenai and twelve Earth Nation pilots with Seth and Quennin in overall command. The carrier, negator, dreadnoughts, frigates, and tens of exodrone squadrons would support this already formidable strike force.

  “I know,” Zo said. “Still…” She tapped her foot nervously.

  Quennin pulled her gloves tight and sealed them. She walked over.

  “Come on. There’s no point worrying about it. Let’s go.”

  Zo gave Quennin a weak smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  They exited Quennin’s quarters, turned down a long hall of pilot accommodations, and entered the lift at the end.

  “They do make a nice couple,” Zo said.

  “Hmm?”

  “Yonu and Tevyr.”

  “Oh, I quite agree,” Quennin said. “I’m surprised they haven’t bonded yet.”

  “Me too.” Zo folded her arms. “Maybe those EN pilots are to blame.”

  “Oh?”

  “They can be a really bad influence. Have you seen some of the things they do to themselves?”

  “Like what?”

  “They self-mutilate.” Zo shivered in disgust. “They have these strange rites where they pierce themselves and hang ornaments from the holes.”

  Quennin grabbed her right forearm with her left hand. This had the effect of covering her unseen bellybutton. “You mean, like earrings?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s what they’re called. Revolting.”

  “Yes, quite a deplorable practice,” Quennin muttered. She idly scratched her bellybutton.

  “And Yonu has two of these disfigurements,” Zo said. “I told her to have them repaired, and you know what? She ignored me!”

  “Well, they are quite attractive on her,” Quennin said, avoiding eye contact.

  Zo stared at Quennin. “Just whose side are you on?”

  “Well…” Quennin mumbled, still avoiding eye contact.

  Thankfully, the lift arrived. Quennin walked into the seraph bays.

  “Good luck,” Zo said. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Quennin nodded a farewell. The lift closed and took Zo directly to her seraph in an adjoining bay.

  Quennin turned and gazed upon the familiar scarred lines of Seth’s black seraph. A thin gray scar existed for every hit that breached his barrier. For a pilot with such an extensive combat history, there were very few marks.

  Seth stood near a gangplank that extended from the ledge to the seraph’s torso cockpit. Conformal weapon pods lowered from the ceiling. Slender robotic arms attached them to his seraph’s limbs.

  Seth turned as she approached.

 
; “Quennin, do you have any idea what ‘hooah’ means?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s something I heard the EN pilots shout.” Seth looked in the direction of the next bay down. “Pilot Daykin had all of them together in a circle. They put one arm in the center of the circle and yelled ‘hooah’ at the same time. My neural link was unable to translate the word.”

  “I don’t think it means anything.”

  “Strange,” Seth said. “But certainly not the strangest thing our allies do.”

  Quennin gave Seth an emphatic nod.

  They walked down the long row of self-contained bays, past Quennin’s seraph, and stopped at Tevyr’s seraph. Not unexpectedly, Tevyr and Jared were making wagers on who would get the most kills. When they finished their acts of youthful bravado, Tevyr joined his parents.

  “Father, Mother,” he said, bowing. “Thank you for reassigning the squadron to my command. I will not fail you.”

  “The Sovereign’s command was for our best pilots,” Seth said. “How could I not include my own son?”

  Tevyr beamed with pride. “I will be cautious, Father. We don’t know what to expect from the archangels.”

  “Good. I am glad to hear that.” Seth gestured towards Tevyr’s seraph. “We’ll be launching soon.”

  “Of course, Father.” Tevyr bowed once more and went to board his seraph.

  When their son was out of earshot, Quennin said, “A part of me is thinking the same way Zo is right now.”

  “She’s worried about Yonu?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Pilots belong on the battlefield.” Seth rested a hand on Quennin’s shoulder.

  Quennin nodded. “I must be getting soft.”

  “Nonsense. I am every bit as concerned for our son as you are. Fear not. He will do us proud.”

  ***

  The starry void flashed alive as thirty-five fold points snapped open. A vast intermingling field of distortion rings expanded across space like rippling water. Twenty-six seraphs, six frigates, two dreadnoughts, and a single negator appeared near the Grendeni schism Righteous Anger.

  “Negator field is coming on-line,” Jared said. “Looks like we have a single Grendeni dreadnought running escort.”

  Seth mentally keyed the command hypercast channel. “Maintain formation. The fleet will handle this.”

  Aktenai dreadnoughts and frigates came about and accelerated, bringing their main cannons to bear on the lone Grendeni target. A frigate lined up on the Grendeni dreadnought and fired its centerline cannon. The white beam pierced through space and slammed into the dreadnought with terrific force. Mnemonic armor heated and expanded, becoming a jagged glowing boil across the surface.

  The Grendeni dreadnought brought its own weapons to bear and returned fire. Three parallel beams cut through space. Two hit the negator, leaving twin superheated scars on the surface.

  The target choice made sense, Seth noted. Until the Aktenai negator was destroyed, no Grendeni vessel could successfully engage its fold engines and leave the conflict. The negator effectively pinned down all opposing craft, forcing them to stand and fight.

  Twelve beams lanced from the Aktenai formation in unison, focusing as if through a lens down to a single point. The beam carved across the Grendeni dreadnought’s surface, leaving a patchwork of crisscrossing, white-hot lacerations.

  “Alpha squadron, stand by to recon the schism,” Seth said.

  Aktenai frigates closed rapidly and fired salvos of torpedoes at the Grendeni dreadnought. The lasers and railguns in its interception grid lashed out but destroyed only a fraction of the incoming torpedoes.

  Titanic explosions wracked the Grendeni dreadnought and ruptured its outer hull. Still it fought on.

  Seth tried to raise Jack via hypercast but received no response. Even if Seth knew for certain Jack wasn’t on the schism, he wouldn’t order its destruction. Only the most radical elements of the Choir would countenance the destruction of a schism without great need.

  Another round of fusion beams carved a gash through the Grendeni dreadnought’s midsection. It continued to fight back.

  Seth turned his chaos scanner up to full gain. The other twenty-five seraphs were bright lights in a black world devoid of other signals. He permitted himself a shallow grin. No active archangels in flight.

  Another salvo of torpedoes detonated across the Grendeni dreadnought’s tortured hull. It shattered into three uneven sections, yet still it fought, each piece firing whatever functional weapons remained. Torpedoes continued to launch while lasers sliced through space, but the main threat of its beam cannons had been neutralized.

  “Epsilon squadron,” Seth said, “clean up that mess, then form a perimeter around the schism’s northern dock.”

  “Confirmed, sir,” Jared said. Twelve identical EN seraphs broke off and sped towards the dying dreadnought’s wreckage.

  “Alpha squadron, recon the schism interior.”

  “Understood,” Tevyr said. Twelve Aktenai seraphs, each as fanciful or mundane as its pilot desired, approached the northern space dock on the Righteous Anger. Tevyr, along with Yonu in her sleek blue seraph, led the formation.

  Seth and Quennin flew past the Aktenai fleet elements. Jared’s squadron assumed tactical positions above the northern space dock.

  Lights flashed along the perimeter of the schism’s northern cap. Massive berthing arms reached into space. In the center of the docks were a set of heavy kilometer-wide doors designed for admitting whole ships as large as dreadnoughts into the schism interior.

  With a mental command from Seth, the Aktenai fleet opened fire.

  Twelve fusion beams struck the door simultaneously. Alloys heated, cracked, and shattered. The Aktenai squadron dove into the dark interior of the Grendeni space dock.

  Visual feeds from the twelve Aktenai seraphs played in Seth’s mind.

  “Proceed cautiously,” Seth said. “Find the archangels and destroy them.”

  “Understood,” Tevyr said. “But something’s not right.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “There’s very little activity here in the dock. It could be they buttoned up as soon as they saw us coming, but it doesn’t feel like that.”

  Seth studied the images coming in from the Grendeni space dock. Granted, he had no reference for normal operations in a Grendeni schism, but it did seem strangely dormant. A few automated machines went about their work, repairing and servicing the collection of transports and military vessels. However, he saw no evidence of people within the ships or berthing structures.

  “The factory zone should be just beyond the space dock,” Seth said. “Inform me once you’ve broken through.”

  “Understood.”

  “Could they have discovered what Jack was up to?” Quennin asked privately. “If so, would they abandon the schism?”

  “Doubtful. They would have folded away or brought in a heavy fleet presence to defend the schism.”

  “Perhaps he engaged them from inside the schism and they fled,” Quennin said.

  “If so, why hasn’t he contacted us?”

  “And, for that matter, why have a dreadnought guarding an empty schism?”

  “We’re in the factory zone,” Tevyr said. “Still no sign of archangels. Some activity here, but it’s all automated. Wait a second…”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t think this is the Righteous Anger. It’s close, but the layout of the factory zone doesn’t match what Pilot Donolon sent us. The towers here don’t reach as close to the axial tube, and there’re fewer of them.”

  Seth opened the archive imagery in his mind. The exterior matched perfectly, but Tevyr was right. When the true interior was compared to the archive imagery, the differences became frighteningly apparent.

  This is the wrong schism!

  “Alpha squadron, get out of there!”

  The Aktenai seraphs made a break for the schism space dock. Seth’s chaos scanner lit up with new contacts. None were as
strong as a seraph, but they had weight of numbers on their side, and they came alive between the Aktenai squadron and their escape.

  “Power ups! Multiple archangel power ups!” Tevyr shouted. “There must be over a hundred in here!”

  “Punch through,” Seth said. “We’ll secure your exit from this side.”

  “Multiple fold points opening up,” Jared said. “Hostile negator field coming on-line. Look sharp! Here they come!”

  Six Grendeni archangels folded in less than a kilometer from Seth’s position. They swiveled their skull-like heads and caught sight of him. Coppery skeletal wings flared out and ignited with yellow light. The archangels dove in, long swords powered and ready.

  “Quennin, behind us!”

  Seth aligned his fusion cannon on the lead archangel and fired. A white beam shot out of the conformal pod on his right arm, piercing the space between him and his target. The beam was every bit as powerful as a dreadnought’s main guns, and it hit dead on.

  The archangel’s yellow barrier flashed opaque and died. Scorching plasma incinerated the upper half of its skeletal frame. The remainder tumbled wildly, falling back from the other five archangels.

  Quennin opened fire a split second later. Six tactical seekers snapped out of her leg pods and rocketed into the approaching archangels. The warheads exploded in brilliant blue flashes of light, throwing the lead archangel back and severing its left arm. It spun away, righted itself, and retrieved the sword from its severed limb.

  Quennin shot a fusion beam into its torso and blasted it to atoms.

  “They can’t take much punishment,” she said.

  “But they’re coming in like death is meaningless,” Seth spat.

  Without time to get off a second shot, he flew out to meet them. Twin blades of purple luminescent energy snapped out of his forearms. He shot straight in at the lead and ducked down at the last moment.

  The archangel flew above him, sluggishly trying to turn around.

  Seth climbed sharply and pierced the archangel’s feeble barrier with ease. His blade cut through the chest cockpit. Yellow energy shunts across the archangel died. Black fluid spurted out of the ruined body.

  Seth had no time to relish the kill. He whirled around and raised his daggers in an X to block the oncoming attack. The closest archangel swung down, its sword meeting his daggers.

 

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