“That’s it,” McNuggen said. She figured these things had lived in a world without physics for so long, they couldn’t adjust to the laws of momentum and energy conservation. It was a small edge, but she’d take what she could get.
“Lewis, use its own body against it. Charge that Pirr vessel at ten o’clock.”
“Captain?” The pilot glanced over, but her hands were already executing the order. It was a simple reaction, not an argument.
“Let’s use the Wyrm’s bulk against it. Get close as you can, then break off,” Barbara ordered, trusting in her pilot’s skills.
“Aye, Captain.”
Barbara switched her microphone on and sent out the alert to her crew, even though there wasn’t much more they could do. “This is McNuggen. All hands prepare for even more drastic maneuvers.”
She switched off the mic and checked her harness. She didn’t look to see if her bridge crew did the same. They were already strapped in.
She moved the tactical display to center screen and watched. The Pirr vessel engaged a Yeti vessel now, trading fire that glanced off shields. They wouldn’t notice their game of chicken.
“Lackey, hail the Yeti ship. Tell them they’ve got incoming.”
“Aye, Captain.”
They were down to three hundred clicks. Two hundred.
“Captain?” Lewis spoke up.
“Use your best judgment, Lieutenant. I didn’t steal you for my crew for nothing.”
“Aye, aye.” The tension didn’t leave his shoulders, but he sounded confident. “Breaking off in five…four…”
Barbara hung on tight. McCaffrey dove, whipping past the Pirr vessel within meters. The maneuver threw Barbara against her harness, knocking the breath out of her, but her eyes didn’t stray from the screen as the Wyrm’s bulk collided with the Pirr ship. Both tumbled into the atmosphere. The Wyrm would recover, the ship wouldn’t. She called it a victory.
“Well done, Lieutenant,” she praised as the crew cheered. “Let’s find us another oversized bully to take down.”
The crew settled, ready to take on their next enemy. Barbara grinned, feeling the usual rush that followed a dangerous maneuver. Now she knew it worked, she wanted to pass it on. She hailed the flagship. A harried ensign answered.
“This is McNuggen. I need to speak to Admiral Greengrass.” She looked at the screen long enough to make eye contact with the officer, then to her tactical display. Another Wyrm chased them, but they’d already gained distance. She had to use that distance.
Her look at the ensign must have spoken volumes; the next thing she knew, the admiral appeared. His face, worn down by experience the way a bluff is carved by the wind, still creased into a smile for her—though a grim one. “Captain. I know it’s been awhile, but this is no time for a social call.”
“Yes, sir. We’re trying to make headway against the enemy, but the Wyrms are complicating things a bit.” She glanced at her tactical display. More potential targets circled McCaffrey‘s position. “However, I’ve got some good news.”
“So do I, Captain. Check the rift. I believe cavalry’s arrived.”
Barbara’s heart skipped. She saw dragons.
Dragons dove through the rift, engaging the Wyrms. A few lingered near the rift; the rest dove into the battleground, slamming into Wyrms and using their massive claws on Pirr vessels. Gouts of fire joined the barrage.
The Pirr ships faltered, and Barbara grinned. “I see it, sir. I have some news for you as well.” She told him of their success outmaneuvering the Wyrm. “We keep them distracted, use them against their own forces.”
“Excellent work, McNuggen. I’ll transmit this to the other captains. Carry on.”
“Sir.”
She brought up her tactical display, restraining the urge to cheer. “Tell me we’ve got another target,” she called out.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m about to grab its attention, with your permission,” Lewis answered.
“You have it, LT. Let’s ruin its day.”
Dragons and Wyrms clashed over the planet, with the Earth Fleet and Yeti ships engaging the Pirr and outmaneuvering the Wyrms. The allied forces were heartened by the dragons’ arrival. They outnumbered the Wyrms, yet the shadowy transgressors were large and powerful.
Though the dragons fell on their opponents, and the numbers evened out, and Council vessels provoked the Wyrms, the balance of power still seemed to tip back into the Pirr’s favor.
Twenty
Dante clung to the pilot’s seat’s armrests, doggedly not grabbing for Night Thorn’s controls. For one thing, he wasn’t a pilot and might make things worse. For another, the ship was doing fine without him. She dipped and swerved around and between Pirr vessels and Wyrms that filled the sky like so many malevolent stars.
The difficulty came in the explosions that went off close by as other ships—friend and enemy both—drifted too close for his comfort. The sudden course changes when Wyrms came through, chasing after ships, didn’t help either.
“So now that you’ve proven what a great pilot you are, can we break atmo?” Dante asked, more shakily than intended.
“I’m tracking six Wyrms rising from the surface. As soon as they have joined the battle, I will enter the atmosphere. They may mistake me for an ally, but I would not care to gamble on it.” Thorn sounded relaxed, considering. “Do not worry. I have stealth mode engaged. We may yet be detected, but the battle distracts the enemy, very much increasing our chances.”
“It’s strange to hear you call our people the enemy,” Khiann remarked from behind.
Dante looked over his shoulder at the Pirr woman but couldn’t keep his attention away from the screens.
“I have allied with the humans. That makes me Hoi’s enemy,” Night Thorn explained with a new edge to her voice. “Do you think you will be able to go home after this, even if we win?”
“That’s a little harsh,” Dante commented.
“If you are trying to make me angry, it will not work. I do not waste emotions on things,” Khiann snapped. “I am aware of my own status. You are no one’s ally, no one’s enemy. You are a tool in Earth’s hands.”
“That’s also a little harsh,” Dante commented.
“You are blinded by your prejudice,” Night Thorn replied. “I am a person. I have thoughts and opinions of my own. Just because you have not seen my like before does not mean I do not exist.”
Dante sank back into his chair, staying out of it. His view became choppier as Night Thorn’s course proceeded into harder turns and barrel rolls, the equivalent of slamming doors and cupboards.
“Let’s take it easy!” he shouted when a Wyrm’s tail nearly clipped them. “You can have your existential squabble later. Right now can we all play nice? There’s sort of a mission happening here.”
Khiann moved into his field of view, her lips pressed into a flat line. She had both hands on grips above their heads yet wobbled to and fro. “This is no time to get emotional, pilot. Focus on your duties.”
“Pilot? I’m not in control here.” Dante pointed at the wheel moving on its own.
“I am within tolerance in all aspects,” Night Thorn stated.
Khiann’s eyes narrowed as they snapped to the controls, then the view. Thorn flew in a way that could only be called angry.
Khiann stepped back. “Perhaps there is a better time for philosophy,” she agreed. “How long until we can land, Night Thorn?”
The ship was silent for a solid ten seconds. Dante almost groaned at the ship’s pouting.
“The last of the Wyrms have entered the exosphere,” Thorn replied finally. “I am changing course now. Please fasten your restraints…Commander.”
Khiann’s ears curled inward, but she kept whatever she wanted to say to herself. She marched from the room to where the others were strapped in, her boots striking the deck with more force than necessary.
“I do not like her,” Night Thorn muttered.
“I think I see why. Give her time. S
he’ll accept your personhood once she’s been around you enough,” Dante promised. “You’ll see. You’ve both changed.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps she will also believe when she finds out I am capable of maintaining a grudge…for centuries.” Night Thorn sounded not unlike Bava in a bad mood. She banked left and sliced into the planet’s atmosphere.
The sun dipped to the horizon, painting the sky with reds and golds capped by velvet blue and a blanket of stars. Needle-thin streaks of light shot across the dome of the sky in complex patterns. Explosions bloomed above, a poorly-aimed fireworks display. Towering above everything, the rift bled green and red, its uncanny light providing a little illumination.
Dante crept through Cavey’s thorny forest behind Khiann. The Pirr moved silently though the forest, barely visible in the deep shadows. He didn’t know how she could be so quiet, when he was stepping on every stick. He settled for sliding his feet across the ground, preferring to bump fallen branches than step on them like a clumsy oaf.
The others spread out behind and to the side. Jack walked close by, ready to cloak them if something went wrong. Even Bava was quieter as he walked somewhere behind, covering their tracks and watching for enemies.
Khiann stopped. Dante caught up to her. They’d arrived.
The bottom edge of the rift stretched down as well as up. At ground level, it was a good fifty meters wide. Neon fog drifted from the ragged edges, filling the clearing with wisps of color drifting outward. A stray wisp brushed Dante’s cheek, then drifted past the barrier of his skin. He stepped to the side, saw it had reached past him and headed for Jack. Jack moved around it, eyes wide.
“You know we need to go in,” Dante reminded him.
“I don’t remember this from the last one you made. Is it dangerous?” Jack objected, dodging another wisp.
“I never made a portal this deep. I had to put a lot more into it than before.” Dante contemplated the rift. Its ragged parts waved in the air, reminding him of an anemone.
“And if it’s dangerous?” Jack prompted again.
“Then maybe I won’t make it out.” Dante moistened his lips, disguising his nerves. Only he knew the inside of these rifts—the only one who could go.
“You propose to go alone? Don’t be foolish,” Khiann said. “Clearly you aren’t at your strongest. We will assist.”
“Bava declines,” Bava said through his translator. Dante almost leaped; he hadn’t heard the big guy creeping up. “Bava will guard friends’ backs.”
“Who’s guarding them now?” Jack glanced around.
Dante frowned and opened his senses, reaching out with a delicate touch. There were no conscious minds out there—none he could detect, at least.
“Bava!” Bava spread his arms wide. “While you approach, Bava found hidden guards. They sleep now.”
Dante gaped at the Yeti. “How?”
“Pirr have distinct smell. Easy to find.” Bava grinned again, then glanced at Khiann. “Bava does not make offense. It is truth.”
“Understood.” She wrinkled her nose, as if sniffing.
Dante hid a smile. He’d be doing the same thing if Bava said he smelled funny.
“We must hurry,” Khiann prompted.
“Right.” Dante stepped into the swirling mists, took a deep breath, and pushed on. He felt no different, but all the colors felt like he was already inside the rift.
Behind him, Jack muttered and followed, Khiann at his side. Dante didn’t want them in danger, but he couldn’t argue going inside was any more dangerous than waiting for a Wyrm to crush them all.
And Khiann was right. They had to hurry. Once more, he looked at the sky and the battle between the lights, then stepped inside the rift.
Barbara McNuggen’s smile straightened. McCaffrey was giving as good as she got, but she’d lost speed and maneuverability to some unlucky shots. Her strategy of leading Wyrms into trouble worked for a while, but the Wyrms were mostly fighting the battle for the Pirr, their vessels clustered behind their protectors like chicks beneath an alligator’s belly.
The attrition was fierce. Looking at her tactical display, she observed holes where allies should be, lost to enemy fire or the jaws of a Wyrm. She’d lost count of comrades whose ships were taken out of the fight. She had no clue how many needed rescue…and how many required funerals. The best way she could avenge them was to destroy as many enemy ships and occupy as many Wyrms as she could.
McCaffrey rocked, and she cursed. “Status!”
“We’ve lost topside thrusters,” Mendez called out. “Looks like a Wyrm caught us with its tail.”
McNuggen clenched her teeth. Thruster damage couldn’t be repaired while they were flying for their lives. They’d just lost more maneuverability. On the viewscreen, a dark shape blacked out the stars as it came at them, jaws wide and seemingly large enough to swallow McCaffrey whole. Barbara wondered if one could survive in the belly of a Wyrm.
Then, the enormous beast was gone. Her proximity sensors beeped. Something touched against them. The sensors stopped before she could turn them off. She peered at the screen; the Wyrm was not there, only Cavey’s star.
“Where…?” she said, zooming out on her display.
All of the Wyrms…gone!
“Captain, I saw what happened.” Lewis sent over a file to her display.
McNuggen, baffled by being alive, viewed the image of the Wyrm’s gaping jaws, its wickedly sharp teeth, and certain death. The Wyrm started closing its jaws, and a dense, ash-white cloud replaced its bulk. The cloud maintained shape, then collapsed.
“It happened everywhere, Captain. The Wyrms, the dragons, they’re all gone,” Lewis reported.
McNuggen stared at the tactical display. Had she fallen asleep without realizing? Funny time to do something like that…but no. She didn’t think she had.
“The rift is gone,” Mendez said. “I think…I think we just won.”
“We haven’t won until the admiral says so,” McNuggen said, but she couldn’t help but grin. “Let’s round up the remaining Pirr vessels before they get any funny ideas.”
Her orders were met with a chorus of aye, aye as her crew got to work, tracking enemy ships and feeding data to the admiral’s vessel. The Pirr, now outnumbered, surrendered. She listened to the chatter as captains checked in. None reported their Mystics’ status. Barbara hoped that was a good sign. Maybe they were simply seen as one of the crew.
She wondered what had become of her Mystic friends, but the channels were too busy to make inquiries. She picked up her microphone. “Crew of the McCaffrey, this is Captain Barbara McNuggen. The Wyrms have been…destroyed, and the Pirr have surrendered.” The bridge crew cheered enough to split eardrums. She grinned and waved her hand to be quiet. “It has been an honor and a privilege to fight at your side. Look to those around you, to crewmates, including our Mystics. Know that not one of us would be alive right now if it weren’t for the loyalty and support of those around you. Well done, people. Well done.”
Lewis looked emotional as he glanced at her, blinking hard. She smiled, and he saluted.
“Mendez? Check on our Mystics. Make sure they’ve got what they need.” She settled in her seat.
Julia paced in front of the cave entrance. Bava, the Yeti, joined her, though he professed he didn’t know what the repetitive walking was all about. She couldn’t explain, except it relieved tension. She couldn’t sit still while they waited.
There was no way she would leave Cavey without their friends. It couldn’t be done. Dante escaped the Astral Plane before, that meant it could be done again…though she didn’t want to admit an escape was likely more difficult for three than one. She wouldn’t accept they were gone, not when it had been a week, not even if it’d been a year.
Someone sneezed. She whipped around.
Coraolis stood from where he’d been sitting on the camp stool, watching her and Bava pace. He and Julia looked at one another. The sound had echoed from inside the cave. No one had gone inside
since the rift had closed. It was deemed too dangerous for causal exploration.
“Hello?” Julia called out. Her voice echoed back. She walked to the lip of the cave and peered inside. “Anyone there?”
“Just us chickens,” someone coughed—and there came Jack, pale and tired, but still him.
She shouted for joy and seized him in a tight hug. Then, she was enveloped in a wall of fur, pressed between Jack and the Yeti, who shouted in his guttural tongue. When Bava finally let go, Julia saw Dante and the Pirr woman, Khiann. Pure shock overcame their expressions when Bava swept them up and carried them to Julia and Coraolis. They hugged Dante and shook Khiann’s hands. Bava hugged Dante so hard it was more like grappling. Then hugs went around again, and Bava even pulled Khiann in, much to her horror, as they basked in the joy of a long reunion overdue.
Julia wiped tears from her eyes. Now they could go home.
Twenty-One
The sounds of clattering dice and laughter filled their apartment. Jack sat at the head of the table, listening to them debate. Their first week back on Earth was littered with debriefings and interviews and reports and, now, all they had to do was relax.
Bava held up his dice. They looked like grains of sand in his massive hand. The translator around his neck looked like a collar, though no one dared to say so. “Bava is Dave, human warrior and protector of the people. Dave follows law and goodness. Dave insists to stop this necromancer immediately!”
“We aren’t powerful enough to face him yet. We need to level up,” Julia explained again. She tilted her head to the side, watching Bava scoop the last of the buffalo dip into his mouth. He didn’t bother with chips since the first taste, so the dip had become his.
“Bava understands, but it is clear death priest expects us to wait. That is why we strike now, while element of surprise. And you must address Bava as Dave, Suria Half-Elven Ranger.”
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