Disciple of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 3)

by Jacob Holo

  Tesset didn’t say anything. She looked down at the writhing ocean. In the cockpit, tears moistened her blindfold.

  “Pilot Daelus.”

  “He’s…”

  “Please, we must leave.”

  Tesset shook her head and sucked in a long stuttering breath.

  “All right…” She looped her arms around Veketon’s throne and lifted him up the tall brass shaft. They found a crack in the shaft that led to another series of passages and followed them until they return to the spherical Gate chamber. Tesset rose through a crack below the chamber’s equator, Veketon still in her arms.

  The Gate floated near the center: a turbulent (but stationary) sphere of mercury. Much of the chamber roof had collapsed, collecting at the bottom and sealing the shaft. Both Seth and Quennin hovered near the Gate, aiming portal lances at it.

  “Tesset. Veketon,” Seth said wearily. “Good of you to join us.”

  “I believe this is far enough,” Veketon said. “Let me see if I can restart it.”

  The smaller of his two halo-wings spun up, its edges flashing with dull energy.

  “That will have to do.” Veketon floated away from her. “Thank you.”

  Tesset simply nodded, words choking in her throat.

  “Keeper Elexen, what is our status?” Veketon asked.

  “We’re all in pretty bad shape, but the area is clear of hostiles. Those chaos spawns fled after the fiend died. Yonu sent one of our Knight Squadron seraphs to check for survivors. He should return shortly.”

  “The Gate appears primed for us to disrupt it,” Veketon said.

  “Yes, Quennin and I have just finished a temporary anchoring of this.” Seth suddenly turned from the Gate and faced them. “Wait a second. I know I’ve been preoccupied with securing the Gate, but I saw Jack’s transponder earlier. Tesset, he was with you and Veketon, wasn’t he?”

  “Jack is… he’s… he…” Tesset tried to form the words, but couldn’t push them out. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “Tesset, what happened?” Seth asked.

  “I am sorry to report that Bane Donolon did not survive,” Veketon said.

  “But… how?” Seth asked. “When we were separated, wasn’t he with you?”

  “We were cut off together with the two Disciples,” Veketon said.

  “I… see…”

  “Bane Donolon died bravely. He took Zophiel with him.”

  “I— It’s all right. I… it’s…”

  “I am sorry.”

  “No, it’s… no, we need to finish what we came here to do. Quennin, give him the lance you found.”

  “Here, Vek.” Quennin handed him the lance.

  Tesset floated to the others, feeling empty on the inside. One of the Knight Squadron seraphs returned with two pilot alcoves clutched in his hands.

  “Seth, all survivors accounted for,” Yonu said stiffly.

  “Then we have no further reason to stay.” Seth approached the Gate. Tesset was about to follow when a hypercast transponder activated inside the debris pile at the bottom of the chamber.

  “Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

  “Jared?” Yonu exclaimed. “Jared, is that you?”

  “Oh, good,” Jared said in an oddly bored voice. “I’m glad the repair systems got my array working again.”

  “But you were killed by the fiend!” Yonu said. “I saw you get eaten!”

  “Oh, that? Yeah, that was pretty rough. It ate me, and that hurt a lot. Then I was floating around in its stomach, and that hurt a lot. Then everything exploded, and that really hurt a lot.”

  Tesset dropped onto the debris pile, the hypercast transponder pinging close by. The other pilots followed her down and started removing gooey chunks of the fiend from the pile.

  “Jared?” Yonu asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Well, I’m alive. Barely. My i-suit had to amputate some parts of me.”

  “Which parts?”

  “Uh, let’s see here. Both my arms… and my legs… and most of my abdomen… yeah.”

  Tesset, Yonu, and two pilots from Knight Squadron lifted one of the fiend’s ribs and tossed it aside. Underneath, they found the top half of an EN seraph, partially digested amidst slimy fiend entrails.

  “Everything’s pleasantly fuzzy right now,” Jared said. “Must be the drugs.”

  Yonu slipped her hands underneath Jared’s broken seraph and carefully lifted it.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll get you fixed up.”

  “That sounds really good.”

  “Keeper Elexen, we shouldn’t delay any further,” Veketon said.

  “Of course. Everyone through the Gate!” Seth led the way in.

  One by one, the wounded Alliance seraphs vanished in splashes of silver. Tesset emerged at the center of a Gate chamber constructed of undulating energy. The walls glowed hot white and purple, shuddering around them in a rough sphere.

  Veketon and Seth lined up their lances on the Gate leading back into the Lunatic Realm. They teased at the Gate’s surface, both pulling it open and closing it tightly at the same time.

  Destroying the Gate proved difficult and time consuming. The Gate naturally rejected their attempts, but Seth and Veketon prodded it and warped it. Soon the Gate quaked, a perfect sphere changing its diameter a thousand times a second. Its edges blurred and dimmed, and the Gate transformed into a point of light within a thinning cloud of silvery mist.

  The heart of the Gate collapsed to a tiny speck. And then, when it could collapse no more, it exploded into a clean wave of silver energy. The wave held little force and splashed harmlessly off their barriers.

  The chamber around them shook violently.

  “Everyone to the other side!” Veketon shouted. “Move it!”

  The seraphs and thrones fled down a twisted tunnel of energy, the Gate chamber collapsing behind them. They raced through the tunnel, walls of energy crushing the Ziggurat supports and closing in around them. One by one, the two thrones, five and a half seraphs, and two wounded pilots held in their alcoves passed through the final Gate.

  The cold black of space and the bright points of stars greeted them. They sped through the scattered ice of a destroyed planet, the Gate writhing behind them. Seth and Veketon turned around and applied the same forces to this side.

  The Gate calmed to a perfect sphere, then began vibrating out and in as if it couldn’t decide on a diameter. It blurred and faded, the glowing heart collapsing down to a single point of light. A moment passed, and it exploded into a sparkling silver wave.

  “It is done,” Seth said with finality.

  The Disciple Gate had been destroyed.

  ***

  Tesset stepped out of her seraph and walked across the gangplank. The technician and medic waiting on the bay ledge bowed as she approached. She removed her i-suit helmet and handed it to the tech. The medic scanned her and recommended a trip to the medical ward for additional treatment of her chest burns.

  Tesset dismissed them, feeling hollow and empty on the inside.

  The bay bustled with activity. News of their losses had traveled quickly, and through her sense, she perceived the other bays:

  Seth disembarking from his seraph.

  Veketon and Quennin embracing each other.

  Yonu dashing over to Jared’s broken craft.

  The Judgment’s best medical team pulling him carefully out.

  Pilot alcoves being cut open, more medical teams standing by.

  Finally, her focus touched the cryogenically cooled bay at the far end of the Judgment.

  Now empty, never to be occupied again.

  Tesset picked a wall and pressed her cheek against the cool metal. She took slow, calming breaths, unable to feel anything beyond overwhelming emptiness, as if an integral part of her had been ripped from her being.

  Medics and technicians congratulated her, and that only made it worse. None of them could possibly understand
what she had just lost. She said enough polite words to make them leave, then slumped against the wall.

  Twisted what-if scenarios played out in her mind. Doubts and self-blame darkening her mood. She collapsed to her knees and started crying, her focus sinking in around her, banishing the bay and its people from her perception. She sat in a private void, alone with her grief.

  Seth appeared, entering the space immediately behind her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and held her tight.

  “Go away,” she said.

  She didn’t know why she said it so harshly. It just came out that way.

  Without a word, Seth pulled her to her feet and embraced her. She looped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder, and sobbed quietly.

  He held her there, softly stroking her damp hair. She could feel his own grief clouding his normally radiant aura like thick oil. Powerful emotions of confidence and resolve fought against doubt and grief.

  Tesset held Seth tighter, fresh tears pouring from her scarred eye-pits.

  “I can’t believe he’s dead!” she said.

  “Neither can I,” Seth said, stroking her hair. “Neither can I.”

  Chapter 21

  Tyrant’s Fate

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Jared said.

  Veketon gazed from one senior pilot to the next. He’d waited five days to hit them with this possibility, time enough for injuries to mend, seraphs to be repaired, and hearts to slowly accept their missing comrades.

  A hologram of the galaxy floated behind him. The whole galaxy.

  The small crowd in the Judgment’s command center quietly waited for him to speak.

  “We have five portal lances,” Veketon said. “Two were recovered after the battle with the chaos fiend, and three others retrieved from the Ziggurat ring have finished regenerating. Five portal lances working in tandem can greatly magnify their potential. This includes intra-gates.”

  “So, what does that mean?” Tesset began. “If we all help out, Seth can make a bigger intra-gate?”

  “Correct,” Veketon said. “We would be able to form an intra-gate both larger in diameter and greater in range. Using normal fold engines, it will take this craft two years to return to Alliance space. Using an intra-gate, we could return much faster.”

  “How much faster?” Jared asked.

  Veketon shrugged. “I am not sure. My worst case calculations suggest a one month trip.”

  “Worst case?” Yonu asked.

  “It may take us as little as ten days,” Veketon said. “The largest variable is individual pilot affinity with the lances. Since none of you have used one, I don’t know how adept you will be. But traversing the distance in that time span is possible.”

  “You’re serious, right?” Jared asked. “We can go straight home?”

  “Quite serious.”

  “Is there any reason we can’t leave right now?” Seth asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Veketon said. “The Fellerossi have finished eliminating the bulk of the Disciple fleets and will begin integrating their civilian populations. At present, the Disciples of Vayl are no longer a threat to us in any form.

  “Also, the Fellerossi have agreed to a non-aggression pact with the Alliance. They still have the ability to maintain and manufacture archangels, but I believe that is a small price to pay for normalized relations. With those two points concluded, I believe all Alliance business in this region of space is complete.”

  Seth stepped forward and faced the other pilots. “Are there any reasons to postpone our return?”

  “I can’t think of anything,” Yonu said.

  “Same here,” Jared said. “The sooner we return home the better.”

  “Keeper Elexen,” Veketon said. “There is one small matter I would like to discuss with you before we leave. It won’t take long.”

  “Very well. Everyone, we’ll launch in one hour and make our first intra-gate attempt.”

  Tesset, Yonu, and Jared gathered in the lift. Just before the door closed, Jared raised his arms triumphantly and shouted, “We’re going home!”

  Quennin stayed behind with Seth and Veketon.

  “I didn’t want to voice my concerns in front of the others,” she said, “but returning to Alliance space could be a big problem for us, especially for Vek. Seth, it may be better if we stay with the Fellerossi.”

  “I can certainly sympathize with your feelings,” Veketon said. “Trust me, the prospect of returning without a fleet leaves me feeling… a little naked, to be honest. However, there is also much we can accomplish.”

  “If they don’t kill us first. Vek, we’re traitors. What good can we possibly do by returning?”

  “Traitors?” Seth asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “Who said anything about traitors?”

  “A lot of people, actually.”

  “As I understand it, I am looking at two representatives of the Fellerossi government.” Seth raised an eyebrow. “Or am I mistaken?”

  Quennin laughed. “As if that would ever work.”

  Veketon merely nodded. “I see you are one step ahead of me. That is precisely what I wished to discuss.”

  “You’re serious?” Quennin asked.

  “Of course, I am,” Veketon said. “Aren’t I always?”

  “You mean we can go back and not be executed?”

  “This was my thinking as well,” Seth said.

  “I see.” She rubbed her neck. “Well, you two clearly have it all sorted out. I’ll just go wait with the others then.”

  Quennin left the command center.

  Veketon waited for the lift to close. “Is it just me or did she seem slightly embarrassed by not contributing?”

  “It’s not you,” Seth said.

  “Hmm.”

  “Now, on that point.”

  “First, if you will permit me a question,” Veketon said. “Have you thought about a destination within the Alliance?”

  “The Gate Maelstrom.”

  “I see,” Veketon said carefully.

  “We barely thwarted an attack that threatened both this universe and the Homeland. Powerful forces within the Lunatic Realm are aligned against us, and do we really know this was their only avenue of attack?”

  “You mean the Earth Gate?”

  “At the very least,” Seth said. “An invasion from the Lunatic Realm now seems like a very real danger, and for some reason, I feel this was only the first confrontation. If there are to be more, then we must enlist the aid of the Keepers.”

  “That is… ambitious, to say the least.”

  “I intend to make it happen.”

  “And will you bring me before the Keepers?”

  “Of course.”

  Veketon nodded solemnly. He felt the chill of fear across his spine.

  “You need not be concerned,” Seth said.

  “As you say.”

  That is the thing about Seth, Veketon thought. If he says there is no reason to worry, then that is exactly what he believes. The fierce directness of the man was something Veketon found refreshing, and he could see how such an attitude could inspire those around him.

  But Veketon knew the Keepers far better than any living human in this universe, and he also knew what he had done to them. If they had the chance, their retribution would be worse than the Alliance’s.

  And yet, I am still willing to trust him. I wonder why that is.

  “Now, you were about to say?” Seth asked.

  “With your permission, I would like Fuurion to join this discussion.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Veketon opened his neural link and activated the hypercast channel. A hologram of a small man clad in black and orange robes shimmered into existence. He turned to Seth and bowed his neck.

  “Keeper Elexen, an honor to speak to you again,” Fuurion said.

  Seth only nodded, his face neutral.

  “I would like Fuurion to join us,” Veketon said. “He is a mediator-template Fellero
ssi, and as such, would be better suited to opening formal ties with the Alliance. I would like him to join us in that capacity.”

  “I would, of course, come onboard alone and completely unarmed,” Fuurion said. “You may search and scan my person to whatever degree you desire. In fact, you’ll find I’m even feebler than I look.”

  “Very well,” Seth said. “As long as you are cleared by bay security, I see no reason to deny the request.”

  Fuurion bowed. “Thank you, Keeper Elexen. I look forward to opening diplomatic ties with your Sovereign and the Choir. I have heard so very much about them.”

  Seth turned to Veketon. “Anything else?”

  “Not at this time.”

  “Then I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Seth departed the command center.

  Veketon glanced at the hologram of Fuurion. “You do realize that it may be some time before you can return home.”

  “If traveling to the Alliance is where I can serve you and the Fellerossi best, then that is where I will go.”

  “You don’t serve me anymore,” Veketon said. “And neither do the Fellerossi.”

  “Pardon my rudeness, venerable master, but that is not your choice to make. You freed us from two hundred years of slavery. You have led us to the height of our power. And now, through both of our actions, we will forge a lasting peace with the Alliance. What part of this does not warrant our adulation?”

  Veketon grinned. “I did always like the way you could phrase things.”

  “And, if you don’t mind me saying, you appear to be quite content with your new role.”

  “Do I?”

  Veketon took a moment to think about the worries he would never again face, the crimes he would never again be tempted to commit, and the happiness those two facts would bring Quennin.

  He grinned a little more.

  “Yes, I do believe I like it here.”

  ***

  Veketon donned his slipsuit helmet and sealed the neckline. He looked up at the white throne standing in well-lit bay, portal lance in hand. The body was whole once again with a freshly regenerated right arm, restored mnemonic skin, and two new halo-wings shipped over from the Vengeful Ascendant, along with all six remaining spares (it seemed like the prudent thing to do).

  Fuurion walked up to him and bowed. “I am sure it will all go well.”