Tech Mage: The Magitech Chronicles Book 1

by Chris Fox

  “Finally, you contact me,” Jolene snapped. “It can only be bad news, or you’d have slinked back into the light sooner. Tell me. All of it.” She folded her arms, eyeing Voria with her ever-present disapproval.

  “It’s not so bad as you fear.” Voria steeled herself. She didn’t work for this woman—though theoretically all Inurans did, even half-Inurans. Voria reached into her pouch and withdrew the hedgehog. “Kazon is alive, but, as you can see, not unharmed.”

  “He’s been ’morphed?” Jolene asked, raising an eyebrow. She relaxed into her chair, steepling her fingers against her chin. “You’ve tried dispelling it and failed, I take it.”

  Voria was privately thankful that this was taking place over scry-screen instead of in person. She ran her finger along the screen’s bronze border, struggling to maintain her composure.

  “I’ve used the only resources at my command without success,” Voria admitted. “I know how important Kazon is to you, and to your position. I also know you have both the power and the resources to counter this spell.”

  “I can see where this is going.” Jolene’s face soured. “You want me to live up to our bargain, even though you failed to hold up your end of it. The deal was alive and unharmed.”

  “Yes, well, one for two has got to count for something. I realize this is an unexpected obstacle, but it’s one you can solve. I’m afraid I’m going to have to demand full payment.” Voria spoke matter-of-factly. It wasn’t easy keeping her shoulders square, or meeting Jolene’s gaze.

  “And if I refuse? What if I only give you half? That would seem fitting, for a job half done.” Jolene’s gaze became calculating.

  “I’m afraid I must insist on the full payment—and, further, I must insist you bring it to Marid immediately.”

  “More? You’re asking for more?” Jolene sputtered. Her face flushed, and her nostrils flared. “I could have you stripped of rank with a single missive. I could—”

  “Mother.”

  That single word stopped Jolene, long enough for Voria to speak. “I’m heading to Marid. I will arrive in roughly seventeen hours. When I do, I plan to engage the enemy forces. If you want Kazon back, then you will bring every last provision I have requested.”

  “Very well,” her mother snapped. “You’ve bound me like a Krox. I have no choice and you know it.”

  “Goodbye, Mother. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Voria terminated the connection and glanced at her bed, giving a longing sigh. Not yet. She reached into her satchel and retrieved the missive that had ’ported in that morning. She’d dreaded hearing it, but couldn’t put it off any longer. One more unpleasant task, and she could sleep.

  She set the missive on her desk, touching the prime fire sigil. It roared to life, displaying the image of a heavy set man behind a shayawood desk. The dark wood was magnificent.

  “Major Voria,” Colonel Brett began, “I regret that it’s come to this, but as you’ve ignored our last two missives I have no choice.” His jaw tightened. “The Confederate Marines hereby strip you of rank and position. You are to immediately turn over control of the Wyrm Hunter to Captain Thalas. Further, you are to be confined to the brig until such time as—”

  Voria shut the missive off. There was only one thing that could save her career: overwhelming victory at Marid. That victory was unlikely in the extreme, but if she died at least she’d escape punishment.

  She removed her coat, dropping it on the floor at the foot of the bed. Then she crawled in, closing her eyes and losing herself to sleep.

  When she awoke, it would be time for war.

  23

  Kheftut

  The Fissure cracked open before them, exposing the Marid system. Voria guided the Hunter through, conscious of the collective relief across the bridge. No one said it, but they were all grateful to be out from under the oppressive weight, even if it meant going immediately into battle.

  Voria studied the data on the scry-screen. “Sergeant Crewes, give me your assessment,” she ordered.

  “Uh, it looks like the Ternus forces have retreated to the asteroid ring around the planet,” Crewes supplied. The scry-screen zoomed in, showing Ternus cruisers flitting nimbly through the rocks. The dragons’ size became a hindrance, and Voria smiled when a massive chunk of rock careened off a Wyrm’s skull. “They’re spitting right in the Krox’s face. They can fall back forever, using the asteroids as cover.”

  “So our allies are secure for now,” Voria mused, guiding the Hunter closer to the blue-white world. “Aran, stand second to me. Nara, stand second to Captain Thalas. Prepare for combat.”

  “To fight what?” Thalas asked, eyeing her with his usual disdain.

  “That,” Voria nodded up at the scry-screen. The largest Wyrm had broken off its assault, and was winging swiftly in their direction. “On second thought…Nara, relieve Thalas.”

  “Are you mad?” Thalas demanded, glaring at her through the rings. “I am a seasoned officer and you want to replace me with a freshly wiped tech mage?”

  “Captain Thalas, we are in a combat situation. If you disobey another order, I will execute you. Stand clear of the offensive matrix. Now.” Voria turned to Nara. “Once he’s clear, I want you to step inside. I will talk you through this.”

  Nara nodded hesitantly, but ducked inside the rings just as Thalas exited the opposite side. Voria noted Thalas’s particularly violent scowl, but focused on Nara instead.

  “Before you were wiped, you used an invisibility spell to make your entire vessel disappear. I need you to use that spell right now, to make us disappear. It’s the only way we’ll get past that Wyrm and into the asteroids.”

  “I don’t remember how.” Nara said, her eyes going wide as she stared up at the rings rotating around her.

  “The spell is still there,” Voria explained calmly. She was all too aware of the approaching Wyrm, which grew larger with each passing moment. It might be the largest she’d ever seen—larger even than Nebiat. Eight hundred meters from tail to snout, at least. “When you mastered it, you inscribed that spell onto your very essence. Were you a diviner, you could see that spell tattooed on your—for lack of a better word—soul. All you need to do is access that power. Begin with the part of you affiliated with dream. The energy will feel pink or light purple.”

  “I can’t,” Nara whispered.

  Voria took a slow, deep breath. How should she handle this? Too much pressure, and Nara cracked. Not enough, and the dragon would be upon them.

  Aran cleared his throat. “Nara, I saw you cast the spell, like it was child’s play. You can do this. I know you can. You’re a true mage, just like the Major. You know what Xal feels like. There’s something else inside you—like that, but attuned to another aspect. Find it. Use it. We need you.”

  Voria was mildly surprised by his support, if his tale about Nara being a pirate was true. This woman had used him, but if that bothered him he didn’t show it. That boded well, suggesting he was willing to put the unit’s needs over his own desire for revenge. That would be important, if she were to promote him.

  Nara closed her eyes, and her hands moved in a flurry, touching sigils on every ring. Purple-pink dream energy rolled out of her in waves, soaked up by the rotating rings.

  “Now add air, it will feel ethereal, and well…airy,” Voria instructed.

  Nara’s eyes closed and a bright, blue energy flowed from her, into the matrix. The ship vibrated around them as the two energies mingled, then the spell completed in a silent explosion.

  “Did it work?” Nara asked, her eyes fluttering open.

  “We’re about to find out,” Voria replied, focusing on the scry-screen as she guided the Wyrm Hunter through a tight turn.

  The dragon came up short, colossal eyes narrowing as it scanned the space where they’d been. Voria licked her lips, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “I recognize that Wyrm. That’s Kheftut, one of the oldest Wyrms in the sector.”

  Voria moved the Hunter in a wid
e arc, away from the dragon and toward the asteroids below. She took an indirect route, knowing Kheftut couldn’t easily anticipate their course. The Wyrm knew they needed to reach the asteroids, but not what route they’d take to get there.

  Kheftut began sketching symbols in a tight glowing pattern in the air in front of it. The energy gathered quickly, more quickly than any mortal mage could duplicate, then discharged. It birthed a thousand motes of light, and those motes broke into several schools, each swimming toward the area where the Hunter had disappeared.

  “That last group of motes is headed our way,” Thalas cautioned, his voice half an octave higher than usual. “Evasive maneuvers!”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Voria snapped, coaxing the Hunter into a steeper dive. She poured energy into the spelldrive, increasing their speed—but at a cost. That energy couldn’t be used to defend themselves.

  The last school of motes burst into several smaller clouds, and one of those clouds found their aft hull. It clung to them, outlining them in much the same way Crewes’s clinging flames had outlined the slaver vessel. Kheftut gave a silent roar of triumph, and dove in their direction.

  “Aran, step inside the matrix,” Voria ordered, accelerating toward the asteroids below.

  “Uh, okay.” Aran ducked through the rings, standing awkwardly next to her. “What do you need me to do, sir?”

  “I’m going to focus on counterspelling whatever Kheftut throws at us. I need you to guide the ship. Take her into those asteroids, and use them as cover like the Ternus are doing.” Voria touched several sigils in anticipation of the Wyrm’s next spell.

  Aran shot a nervous glance at the scry-screen. For a moment, she thought she might need to prod him, but then his features hardened.

  “Done,” Aran said.

  She felt him connect to the Hunter, assuming control as if he’d flown her for decades. It confirmed at least part of her suspicions. He was a war mage.

  The Wyrm breathed a cone of white-grey death; the energy raced toward their stern. Voria tapped spirit, and its opposite, dream. She fired the counterspell, and the pink ball arced into the breath. It detonated, harmlessly dispersing the white-grey energy.

  The Hunter dipped into the asteroid field, temporarily obscuring Kheftut.

  “Now what?” Aran asked, winging past several more asteroids.

  “Keep us on the edge of the field, so we can see Kheftut,” Voria ordered, watching the scry-screen as Aran executed her order. The Hunter circled to the edge of the field, moving out far enough to afford an unobstructed view.

  Kheftut hovered over the edge of the field, scanning; the instant he saw them, the Wyrm charged. Rage twisted his draconic features, making the already terrifying impossibly more so.

  “Fall back into the field,” Voria ordered. “Keep far enough ahead of that thing to avoid its breath.”

  They zipped between asteroids, rolling around large ones while smaller ones careened noisily off the hull. Behind them, Kheftut crashed into the field, knocking away a rock that dwarfed their ship.

  “Major, we must retreat to the Ternus lines, immediately. We are not equipped to fight that thing.” Thalas had regained his dignity at least; his voice had returned to a more normal level.

  “Captain Thalas, please relieve Nara,” Voria ordered. “You did well, Nara. Please stand second, in case you need to relieve Thalas.”

  “And what, precisely, do you want me to do about that?” Thalas said, stabbing a finger at the Wyrm. It clawed an asteroid out of its path, breathing another cone of white death their way.

  The Hunter smoothly rolled around another asteroid, interposing it between them and the breath.

  “Wonderful piloting, Aran,” Voria said. She turned to Thalas. “This is a Confederate warship, Captain. We’re going to use the weapon she was created to employ.”

  “You want to fire a bolt of disintegration? We’re not staffed for that. We’d need at least three more fire mages, and one more void mage,” Thalas protested. “It will fail, draining us dry in the process. Even if it succeeds, at best we have one shot. One the dragon could easily dodge.”

  “But not counterspell,” Voria shot back. “Kheftut is old, and powerful. He is not used to being opposed, and he’ll underestimate us. We’re going to capitalize on that.”

  “And just who do you expect to pull off this little stunt?” Thalas demanded.

  “Aran, turn over control of the ship to me,” Voria ordered.

  Aran obliged, and Voria eased back into piloting. She guided the Hunter around another asteroid, conscious of the Wyrm’s looming form. It would be on them in moments.

  “Aran, use your void energy to initiate the spell. It’s a fifth-level spell, the most powerful this vessel is capable of firing. Once you’ve initiated, each mage will add either fire or void to the spell.”

  “All right,” Aran said, a note of hesitation creeping into his voice. He stared up at the rings, then back at her. “Are you sure about this? I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “Trust me. Start the spell, Aran.”

  Aran nodded, touching the sigil for void. Power rolled out of him, into the rings. Voria touched the sigil for fire, adding her own power to the spell. All around them, the others did the same. Crewes with fire, Thalas and Nara with void. That power collected deep within the ship, thrumming like a cosmic heartbeat.

  Behind them, the Wyrm knocked away the final asteroid. It reared back, sucking in the breath that would end them.

  “Fire,” Voria commanded.

  Aran loosed the spell, and a torrent of crackling red-black energy poured from the spellcannon. The Wyrm raised a titanic claw, sketching the sigils to a counterspell. Had it dodged, it might have survived. Instead, the bolt of disintegration caught the Wyrm full in the waist.

  The spell rippled outward, enveloping the entire Wyrm. Kheftut burst into billions of particles, dissolving into a cloud that quickly swept away into the asteroid field.

  24

  A Plan

  A ragged cheer overtook the bridge, and Voria didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Aran, guide us to the main Ternus force. Crewes, what are the Krox doing?”

  “Their Wyrms are falling back toward the station.” The scry-screen shimmered, then showed two large Wyrms guarding the rear as the rest retreated back to the station.

  Then the view was obscured by asteroids, as Aran guided them toward the pitifully small cluster of Ternus ships. Now and again an asteroid pinged off the outside of the hull, but their armor was thick enough to deal with anything but one of the largest.

  Voria deftly stepped from the rings, moving to stand before the scry-screen. It would make her appear larger on the other side. Petty, but effective.

  The scry-screen resolved into three partitions, each containing a very angry official. The man in the middle spoke first, his gaunt cheeks and tousled hair a testament to how hard the Ternus had been fighting.

  “It’s about bloody time,” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “Where were you, Major? Where were you while our ships burned? We begged your government, and they claimed they sent you days ago.”

  “You have my deepest apologies, Admiral Kerr. I mean that, sincerely. I faced a very difficult decision, and I made the best choice available. I could either show up without the weapons necessary to win this war, and lose it alongside you, or delay a few days to gain those weapons.” Voria plunged ahead before he could speak. “I realize the time was costly. I know you have many dead—and again, you have my sympathies. But I’m here now, and ready to help. I’ve already killed Kheftut and bought you time to regroup.”

  “True.” The woman on the left panel of the scry-screen was a younger officer with a trio of grey bars giving her rank as Captain in the Ternus military. “I’m willing to hear her out, at least. What are these weapons you were securing?”

  “They should be arriving shortly. I’ve made an arrangement with the Consortium.” Voria let the words settle, waiting for t
heir reaction.

  “You’ve dealt with the Inurans, outside the bounds of the Confederate military?” the last man said. He wore a starburst pendant over rich Shayan silk, denoting his rank.

  “Governor Avitus, respectfully, your world is being overrun by the Krox. This is the very first and largest Ternus colony, is it not? Do you really feel now is the time to quibble about the source of your reinforcements? You called for Confederate aid, and I am here,” Voria said. She folded her arms, adopting as neutral a stance as she could manage. “I will be receiving four hundred Inuran smart rifles, six hovertanks, and enough supplies to mount a ground defense of this world.”

  “Ground defense?” Avitus barked a sharp laugh. “They haven’t even attacked us on the ground.”

  “Shut up, Governor,” the admiral snapped. “You’re starting to grate on me.” He nodded respectfully to Voria. “I understand why you needed to delay your arrival, and I apologize for my…outburst. It’s regrettable—but you’re here now, and we need all the help you can offer. You have a plan for preventing the conquest of our colony?”

  “First, I need to understand why the Krox are here,” Voria said, folding her arms behind her back and pacing before the scry-screen. “Kheftut is the brother of Nebiat. That means she’s here, and she wouldn’t come unless she wanted something badly enough to risk herself. Have the Krox landed yet, and if so where?”

  “They set down at the edge of Malgora Crater,” Admiral Kerr said, “the most densely populated part of the planet. We have a thriving mining operation along the slopes of an extinct impact crater. The crater is filled with a tropical swamp. I’d guess whatever Nebiat is after probably lies toward the heart of that swamp. I’ve ordered our forces to set up a defensive perimeter around the city. There are too many locals to evacuate. How long before the Krox attack?”

  “Not long.” Voria clenched a fist, stifling her feeling of powerlessness. “Before we can retake the world, we need to retake your station. Otherwise, Nebiat’s Wyrms will pounce on anyone trying to reach the planet. That has to be our top priority. Once we’ve secured the station, we can start thinking about supporting the surface.”