Voidhawk: The Elder Race

by Jason Halstead

  “Jenna!” He whispered, forgetting his injuries and rushing to her.

  “I’m fine,” she lied through gritted teeth.

  “Logan!” Dexter bellowed, grabbing her under her arms to help support her.

  “Dexter, the ship!” Jenna hissed.

  He looked up and saw that they were within seconds of crashing. “Full stop!” He cried out, then pulled Jenna on top of him and fell to the deck.

  She cried out in agony, but her strength left her as they hit the deck and, moments later, the Voidhawk snapped off its front landing struts on the ground and drove the hull into the dirt of the asteroid. Dexter tried to absorb the shock with his legs against the railing, but he was thrown into it at an angle, his body blunting the force of the impact even as it shattered the railing and sent him flying off the bow of the ship. All he could do as the ground rushed at him was hold desperately to Jenna.

  Dexter came to his senses a few minutes later. He tasted blood and dirt and hurt all over. He looked around, trying to make sense of things. He reached up and cleared a mass of hair from his face. Jenna was with him still, held in his arms in spite of the impossible short flight they’d taken. Her eyes were closed and she was still in his arms. Desperate, he checked her for a pulse and tried to lightly slap her to wake her up. She moaned but didn’t rouse.

  Dexter allowed himself a moment of relief, then slowly separated himself from her and looked around. The Voidhawk lay nearby, one of its rear landing struts still attached but in the air as it lay on its port side. It looked a wreck, though to be fair it still maintained its overall shape. He couldn’t tell how badly damaged the bow was from his angle, but judging by the several hundred feet of drag marks in the ground, he expected it had fared better than it had any right to.

  A groan from nearby alerted him to another survivor. Xander picked himself up enough to look around and groan again. Blood ran from his cheek and head, and when he tried to use both arms to lift himself up he yelped in pain and collapsed again; his left arm was broken.

  He saw shapes moving then, slowly coming into clearer focus. Elves were coming forward, rushing to see what had happened and, if necessary, to help or kill any survivors. Dexter reached down to his side and grabbed his pistol, pulling it free and shooting the first elf that came close to them. He struggled to reload it, wondering if he could even stand to use his sword.

  A roar from some distance off alerted him to another survivor. It was a cross between a yell and a bestial snarl. Another yell, this one calling out different names of his crew, alerted him to the survival of Rosh. Of course Rosh survived, he realized. It would take more than a ship crashing into an asteroid to kill him.

  “Over here,” Dexter called to Xander, his voice hoarse.

  Xander looked at him and nodded, then began to crawl towards him as best he could. Dexter took the opportunity to shoot another elf that saw Xander moving and thought to run him through. He reloaded again, then realized Jenna had a pistol on her hip as well. It was covered in blood, but it was still a pistol.

  “Run you fool!” Dexter spat at Xander, who was still trying to pull himself along with one arm. The wizard jerked up and managed to climb to his feet. He ran as fast as he could, limping heavily, and collapsed on the ground near Dexter.

  “Help me with her,” The Captain said, picking himself up and wincing at the agony that shot through him from head to toe. The pain in his left foot made him gasp anew as he put pressure on it, but he fought it down. After the wizard had regained his feet they picked Jenna up between them and made their way towards the Voidhawk and the other voices he’d heard. On the way Dexter killed two more elves, one with his pistol and one with Jenna’s. They were few and far between, but they had no way of knowing how many there were.

  “Logan!” Dexter called out, then turned to hack and spit out some more blood. Logan turned slowly, his teeth bared and his fists clenched into claws. Dark hair showed clearly on his exposed face where before there had been none.

  “Calm down, Jenna needs you,” Dexter said, fighting back the sudden stab of fear at seeing the man so close to losing control.

  Several elves lay on the ground around him, their blood pooling from the vicious wounds in their bodies. Logan did as Dexter bade though, walking towards them with a hunter’s gate even as he sought to take deep calming breaths. By the time he reached them he seemed to have shrunk, walking more normally and showing pale skin instead of fur on his arms and face.

  “Lay her down,” he said, his voice gruffer than usual.

  Dexter and Xander did as he bade, then Dexter hurriedly reloaded both pistols and kept an eye out. Another figure emerged from around the stern of the Voidhawk, one immediately recognizable as Rosh. He waved to Dexter and hurried over. Keshira, who carried both Bekka and Tarin, followed close behind. Bailynn came last, moving quickly and showing no obvious signs of distress.

  “How are they?” Dexter asked once everyone had arrived.

  Keshira gently laid both her charges down and stood up. Bekka looked battered, her face bloody and her nose broken. Her wrist was also swollen and bent at an unnatural angle. Tarin, on the other hand, looked to be at peace in spite of the cuts on his throat and face and the way one leg was broken through the skin.

  Dexter swore, not even needing to know how the boy fared. He reached down in spite of his misgivings and felt the boy’s neck. A jagged separation in the back confirmed it.

  “Bekka’s alive, but injured,” Keshira told him. “Tarin could not be saved.”

  Dexter stared at him and looked away, a burning retort fighting to get out his throat. He stared down at Jenna then and heard Logan whispering words too softly for him to make out. The priest’s hands moved over her leg soothing her even as she winced in her sleep at whatever he was doing.

  “How’s everyone else?” Dexter asked, looking at the others. Keshira was barely injured, as he expected, and Rosh showed no signs of hurt from where he could see. The man had already turned away though, moving to engage some elves that rushed out from a spiraling ramp that led up one of the massive trees.

  “Bailynn?” Dexter asked when no one spoke.

  “I’m okay,” she answered, staring off at a nearby dark hole that led into the asteroid.

  “Well enough then,” Dexter said. “Logan? How is she?”

  “She’s near dead,” he said sharply. “I don’t even want to move her, the strain could do her in.”

  Dexter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “We’ve got to, or she will die. We’ll all die if we don’t move.” Dexter glanced at all of them, noting the torn, dirty, and bloody state of their clothing. “Keshira, carry Bekka gently, please.”

  Dexter reached down and picked up Jenna, a painful oath hissing through his teeth as he puts weight on his injured foot. “Bailynn, I need you to take us to their helm.”

  She jumped, startled by his command. “Captain… I don’t know-”

  “None of us do,” he snapped. “Jenna was my best shot, but she’s not talking right now. You’ve spent the most time among elves, you’re our next best chance at getting lucky.”

  A horrible crashing sound of wood breaking made them all cringe. They looked up and saw the command vessel that had followed them crashing through what remained of the trees and docks above. The ground shuddered and knocked them all from their feet again when it plowed into the dirt less than a quarter mile from where they now lay.

  “We need to be somewhere else!” Dexter said, reaching to pick Jenna up again.

  “Dexter, let me get her,” Logan said, stepping in front of him. “You’re hurt too, I can see it.”

  Dexter’s mouth opened and closed and then he nodded, suddenly shamed that he couldn’t carry her. Jenna moaned as Logan picked her up, bringing Dexter’s head snapping around to look at her.

  “Dex,” she whispered, calling him to her. “The Garden…”

  Dexter listened and tried to rally her to get more out of her, but she slip
ped deeper into sleep before she could say more. He looked at Logan, who could only shake his head. The others seemed similarly clueless.

  “Never mind Bailynn, the garden it is,” he muttered. “Rosh! Get your ass back here; we’re to be finding that Garden again!”

  Rosh heard the Captain’s yell and finished dispatching the elf unfortunate enough to fight him. He turned and jogged back, swinging the sword the elders had given him as a replacement to spray the blood from it.

  “Take the lead Rosh,” he said, pointing towards the tunnel opening Bailynn had spotted earlier.

  Rosh did as he was bade, running to the tunnel with his sword held at the ready. The others followed at a somewhat handicapped pace. When they arrived they found the entrance void of any defenders. Dexter and Rosh shared a look, then the big man shrugged and pushed deeper into the tunnels.

  Their invasion was uncontested, a fact that made the hair on Dexter’s neck stand up in warning. He kept glancing at Jenna, worried about what else could go wrong, and lost track of both time and distance they traveled. When next he realized it, Rosh had led them to the Garden of Life that powered Fort Prudence and made it possible to move the ship through the void.

  He also led them to what looked like an ambush. The Commander of Fort Prudence stood before them, with half a dozen armed men around him. He smiled wickedly at Dexter’s shocked expression. “Welcome, Captain Silvercloud.”

  Dexter glared at him, then glanced behind when he heard noises that announced the arrival of other elven troops behind them. They were pinned, not so unlike the first time Zhirt had led them into the same room.

  “I must admit, I’m surprised you let yourself fall prey to the same ambush twice,” the Commander said. “Perhaps I gave you too much credit. Or perhaps your man here has reconsidered our deal?”

  Rosh glared murder at him and even took a step forward, prompting the elves to draw swords. “We ain’t got no deal!” Rosh growled at him.

  “Pity, you might have survived,” he said, then stopped as he looked behind Rosh to see Logan and what the priest carried. “And thank you for bringing the princess to me!” He smiled wickedly. “You’ve saved me a considerable hassle.”

  “Us too,” Dexter said. “I won’t be needing for you to find us before we put you down.”

  The Commander blinked, surprised, then he chuckled. “Kill them,” he announced, surprising Dexter with the sudden finality of it all.

  “You know what this is?” Rosh bellowed, stopping the sudden advance of the elves in front and behind. The warrior held out the amulet given to him by the elders, brandishing it so the elves could see it.

  They looked upon it, surprised by his actions. As one they turned away to look to one another and then the Commander. Only the leader of the elves reaction differed; his eyes narrowed into creases and he spat out something in elvish that Dexter knew was distinctly profane, thank to Keshira’s connection to him. “Pfathasalador!” He hissed, which Dexter again knew meant something like knight, champion, or paladin. It was an honor bestowed extremely rarely among the elves, and something not done in remembered history among them.

  The other elves knew the word, if not the amulet. They seemed less certain now, looking again to one another for support. Dexter seized upon the opportunity and said, “You heard the man, kill them!”

  A shot rang out, striking the commander in the head but only a grazing blow. He jerked away and went down, but immediately started to climb to his feet. Dexter dropped his pistol and drew his sword, rushing forward to seize the initiative against the stunned elves. Rosh was beside him, wielding his sword with devastating effect. Bailynn was next to take up arms, though the elves had recovered by then and began to fight back.

  “Protect our fallen!” Dexter cried out, knowing that Keshira, in particular, might not stop to think of Bekka’s safety in the heat of the moment. He caught glimpses of Keshira and Logan standing next to one another, both women having been placed on the ground between them.

  Rosh and Dexter paid for their assault, but between the two seasoned fighters they kept the elves at bay and even managed to dispatch one. The elven Commander rose up behind his men, blood running down the side of his head and discoloring his otherwise pristine armor. He seemed shaken by the near fatal wound, but Dexter knew it would fade quickly and the man would take proper control of the battle.

  Bailynn and Xander kept the elves behind them at bay. The former slayer was nowhere near as formidable as she had once been, but her instincts and skills remained deadly even if her body was no longer honed by magic into an instrument of death. She avoided the elven blades and struck back, landing blows with her hands and teeth that gave the elves pause at her wildness. Xander struggled to bring his magic to bear, but with one arm broken he had trouble managing more than the most simple spells. He used them to what effect he could, distracting them with showers of sparks and lights.

  Rosh stepped in front of the wizard, plugging a gap in their impromptu defense. Bailynn was all but surrounded, unable to assist the injured man. Rosh’s sword swept in, sending the elves frantically scurrying back. He pushed forward, heedless of his own safety in his desire to kill the elves.

  The crew of the Voidhawk fought a battle worthy of song and poem. As last stands went, theirs was filled with epic valor. Bailynn was struck down first, her luck at dodging her assailants fell short at last. Her thigh was impaled and she stood transfixed upon it while another ran his sword through her from behind as she twisted to try and get away from the first. Bailynn gasped, staring at the red stained steel, then let out a breathless squeal as the blades were yanked free of her.

  Rosh bled from a dozen wounds fit to kill most men. Already two elves lay dead beneath or behind him, but he was flanked and beset on all sides as reinforcements poured from the tunnel behind them. His rage burned brighter than ever, but his body began to tire.

  “No quarter!” The Commander shouted, urging his men forward.

  Dexter was pushed back, nicked and bleeding himself, until he joined Keshira and Logan. Xander had picked up a fallen sword himself and stood awkwardly with it, prepared to defend himself as best he could.

  A shout signaled more help forthcoming. Dexter growled at the injustice of it, but refused to give up. He lashed out in a desperate gamble and left an elf with a second smile across his throat. He paid for it with a poke in the hip, but twisted away to prevent the strike from crippling him.

  The elves, confident in their superiority, were taken by surprise at the entrance of the charging metallic golem. Kragor blasted three elves out of his way with the wand on his arm. It spat out a bolt of energy that resembled a miniature stroke of lightning. His axe cleaved the elves that turned to face him, felling them more surely than an oak in a forest. Tasha and Jodyne came behind him, both of them sporting signs of injury but bearing up well and fighting together to destroy any offenses the elves might launch against them.

  Dexter cried out in surprise and joy. It seemed that if they had to die, they would do it together. He even dared to wonder if this might swing the odds in their favor.

  Kragor was a wreaking machine, dropping elves almost as easily as wheat before a scythe. He was struck again and again, but the dents and scratches in his metal hide gave him no reason to pause. Rosh was spurred on by the sight and left himself vulnerable to an attack so that he might sweep the head off of an elf to his side. He paid for it with a sword spearing his kidney, but aside from the pain the wound was only temporary.

  Rosh feigned defeat, a tactic surprising for a man so driven, then rose up from his half crouch and sheared through two elves in a single stroke. They fell back, terrified at his savagery, but Rosh pushed on, driving them back and striking them down one at a time.

  Dexter saw the Commander’s eyes widen at the sudden turn of events. He glanced about, finding a nearby tunnel from which he could escape. Dexter slashed out, driving the two elves that faced him back a step, then pulled Jenna’s pistol from his belt. He took
quick aim and fired, driving a bullet deep into the elf’s buttock.

  He cried out and fell down, his hand going back to the wound in fear. He pulled it back, seeing his hand covered in blood, and stared at Dexter who still held the smoking gun. One of the elves facing Dexter turned to look as well and saw his leader fall. He backed away, then turned and ran straight into Tasha, who gutted him without mercy. The other elf was distracted by the action as well, allowing Dexter to cut deeply on his arm and make him drop his sword. He fell back, clinging to his wounded arm and looking about for some means of escape.

  “Surrender or die,” Dexter shouted over the din of battle. Kragor and Rosh thundered on, lashing out and killing as though they hadn’t heard Dexter. It served to terrify the elves and drive them back. Many fled while a few threw down their weapons in defeat.

  Dexter turned, viewing the horrifying battle ground quietly. Far from quiet, it still seemed so different from mere moments ago. He saw Xander on one knee, his broken arm clutched at his side while the other used the sword he had picked up as a cane. The arm at his side was covered in blood and his robes were stained with it as well.

  “I got one,” Xander said with a pale faced but triumphant grin.

  “Well done, Xander,” Dexter told him, offering him a rare simple smile of pride. “Who’s fit to go on?”

  Logan went to Bailynn first, but he faced away from Dexter so the man couldn’t see what the priest was doing. His hands moved and he could hear some prayers being spoken, but more than that he couldn’t know. Dexter turned to look at the others. Jodyne stood next to Kragor, whom was spackled in red from elf blood that ran off his armor. Jodyne herself was a story of cuts and scrapes, even one across her forehead that dripped blood in her eye. Tasha favored one leg and used her own sword to aid her in standing. Her golden armor shone brilliantly through the blood and filth that dripped from it.