“Now then. Calypsius is vulnerable to magic. However, given the size and power of the creature, simply fighting it with magic won’t work. It will pinpoint the source of that magic and kill it before the magic has a chance to do some real damage. With your technology, though, we can combine our forces and have a chance at defeating this monstrosity.”
It sounded great to Celeste, but…
“I sense doubt in you, Celeste.”
“Well,” Celeste started, pausing to gather her thoughts. “We have guns and knives and swords which would work great against a smaller monster. But that thing is bigger than our ship! I don’t see how our technology has a chance against us.”
“Ahh,” Erda said as she turned to Crystil. “You are the commander of your ship. Do you know of any suitable technology for a giant monster such as that?”
Crystil said nothing. Celeste had a strong feeling Crystil was hiding something.
“You may not want to trust me, Crystil, but I don’t need to rely on trust because I know your thoughts. There is something you have not yet mentioned to me. Or to your comrades.”
The red flush on Crystil’s face confirmed it.
“Crystil,” Celeste said.
“The ship isn’t just a transportation vessel,” she said, the words spilling out. “It’s loaded with a missile launcher at the rear and gun turrets at the front. We have about forty missiles and twenty thousand rounds of bullets. I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t want you, well, Cyrus mostly, to try and use it and because mission protocol called for only one person to know. We have to conserve ammo, and you can’t use what you don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Cyrus threw his hands up in disgust. Celeste just wanted to know why.
“Did you not trust us as soldiers?” Celeste said, and the silence said everything.
“Good news is at least we get to prove ourselves, finally, for our commander,” Cyrus said angrily. “We haven’t even lifted off the ground since we landed! If we shot the turrets or missiles we’d literally shoot ourselves! And yet, ‘mission protocal.’”
“I know,” Crystil said. “I know. All of the ships were given the weaponry, and only the commander should have known about it. We were supposed to flee danger and use the weapons only if there was no escape. And, well, there isn’t now.”
Celeste just sighed acceptingly, knowing it didn’t make much of a difference now.
“We’ll discuss this later, Crystil, but Erda, how can you use your magic?”
“We can imbue our magic onto your weapons so that as it hits Calypsius, the damage exponentially increases. You will need to pilot your ship, as us attacking it while it is in the sky gives it a tactical advantage we cannot overcome.”
“And how do we get the ship into attack position without it swatting the ship down?” Crystil asked, still distraught and humiliated.
“Calypsius can sense the presence of Kastori. The stronger the presence, the easier it is to notice. We will draw it out, and you will attack. We can hide in the forest for some cover, but such a retreat will result in casualties if we are not fast. And I cannot afford any more casualties.”
Celeste felt like the plan made sense. If they had that much firepower and that much magic… maybe they could bring Calypsius down and inhabit the world together.
“It is almost evening. Spend the night here and get some rest. In the morning, I will return you to your ship. You can begin preparations then, and we will join you just before dusk to launch the attack.”
“You’re not one to sit on a plan, huh?” Cyrus said.
“I have sat in this cave for several years, Cyrus,” Erda said. “I cannot sit any longer. If I die, I die knowing I did everything I could to end Calypsius’ reign on our planet.”
Celeste couldn’t agree more. The longer she waited, the longer they could find a reason not to go through.
“Amira will take you to your tent. The three of you will sleep in your own space. Good night, and we will talk tomorrow.”
A few seconds later, a red-robed figure in her mask appeared.
“Amira.”
Amira removed the mask and showed her face, too beautiful to be attached to someone with such a harsh past, Celeste thought. Cyrus and Crystil quickly followed, but Celeste lingered behind. She turned to Erda.
“Thank you,” she said. “For protecting us. For working with us. For looking past the lies and hatred some of us have.”
Erda stood and walked over to Celeste, placing her arms around her in a warm embrace.
“In time, you all will understand that we do not hate you. The furthest emotion from it, in fact. But you need to go right now. Your brother and friend will be waiting for you.”
47
Crystil sat silently in her tent, angry at Erda for unveiling her secret and feeling stupid for not telling Cyrus and Celeste about the secret. The decision to let only one person know made sense when other soldiers inhabited the ship, and a coup at the hands of someone skilled seemed possible. But with just the three of them? After Crystil had promised to be more open and more friendly with them? And with the flight skills Cyrus and Celeste had—namely, none?
Crystil knew she could not easily move past what she had done, because Celeste and Cyrus wouldn’t let her—not that they should. If one of her soldiers lied to her, Crystil would grill them in an interrogation worse than any magicologist could conduct.
And when Celeste walked in and took a seat in front of Crystil, she prepared herself for a similar fate.
“Why?”
The single word stung Crystil with how much emotion was behind it.
“I… I became too attached to protocol. No one was supposed to know except one person on the ship. I was that person, and I vowed not to tell anyone, even you two.”
“Except you didn’t anticipate a Kastori reading your mind,” Cyrus said from the corner, surprising Crystil. She’d assumed he’d stayed outside, choosing to be far away.
Crystil looked over his way, but his eyes went everywhere but to her.
“You want to be more open with us, Crystil, but you still keep secrets. That’s just not how this friend thing works, in case you didn’t know that.”
Crystil saw why she was so disliked on Omega One. She had abused her position of authority, much as Cyrus used his leverage in the moment. She knew she had nothing to stand on, especially since she never would’ve admitted it.
“The thing that kills me is that this is not some big secret. It’s not like you’re a spy for Typhos or one of my dad’s other enemies. It’s that there are guns and missile launchers on our ship. That’s it! It should have no impact on us, but it sure does now because Miss Bradford had to stay a soldier and not help us as human beings.”
“Hey,” Crystil said, but the word came out weak, and she had nothing to follow.
“Crystil,” Celeste said. “Just tell us right now. Is there anything you can think of that was supposed to be confidential that you have not yet told us? Because we need to know everything, right now. If you know it, and we don’t, and it’s relevant to this mission, we need to know.”
A shiver went through Crystil’s spine. She knew if there was anything else and it came out later, she was as good as dead.
She thought long and hard, and there was nothing she could think of. Surely, there were other secrets she didn’t know, but other than Emperor Orthran’s last words to her—“keep my family safe, as you have me”—she couldn’t think of anything else.
But she could not think enough, for even the most minor of details, including a hidden armory or a special simulation in the VR arena, could be enough to tip Cyrus and Celeste away from her.
“Just that your father asked me to take care of you two as he did him, and I believe I’ve done that,” she said finally and with certainty that she could not think of anything else.
To her pleasant surprise, Celeste softened.
“And you have,” the younger Orthran said. “Just be friends with us, and
always be honest with us.”
“Always,” Cyrus said coldly.
“I will,” Crystil promised.
The words assuaged Celeste, who thanked Crystil and invited Cyrus on a walk. As they left, Celeste said something and the two laughed. Crystil, once again, was alone.
48
For one of the first times since she came out of hibernation, Crystil woke up to a pleasant sensation.
The scent of warm, freshly cooked meat wafted into her nostrils. She quickly stood up with a sense of curiosity. She glanced around and saw neither Cyrus nor Celeste. Briefly, the pleasant feeling fled as she remembered the falling out from the night before. But the scent overwhelmed her, and she had to see what produced it.
Outside the tent, near where Amira had paralyzed them, Celeste and Cyrus ate dark brown meat with smiles and laughter. They looked as relaxed as two siblings would in their mother’s kitchen. Crystil took a few steps, unsure if she should join them, but Celeste waved her over. The commander thought of sitting next to Cyrus, but decided to sit next to the Orthran who invited her to avoid an even more awkward encounter with Cyrus.
“Good morning,” Celeste said after finishing a piece of the meat, darker in color compared to the rest, with black burn marks. “It’s a gift from the Kastori. Precora meat captured by lupi.”
Crystil carefully examined the food, always cautious with food she had not seen prepared. But the smell eliminated her paranoia, and she took a larger-than-anticipated bite. It contained a rich, salty flavor and so many juices Crystil didn’t think she would need water. The food went down smoothly.
“Tastes as good as it smells,” Crystil said, a satisfied smile on her face. “It sure beats eggs and vegetables for the hundredth time.”
Celeste gave a polite laugh. Crystil did not look directly at Cyrus but kept him in her peripheral vision to see how he reacted. He didn’t have any response, which the commander felt disappointed by but couldn’t blame him for. Her secret probably felt like betrayal, especially after he’d saved her life. If the reverse had happened, Crystil would probably have never talked to him except for specific mission procedures. Where would we be without Celeste, keeping him happy and engaged, and all of us together. That girl.
“You guys like it?” Crystil asked, trying to engage Cyrus indirectly.
“Oh yeah!” Celeste said. “It’s like Dad’s cooking.”
“Not bad,” Cyrus said, which were two more words than Crystil anticipated him saying. She was about to ask him how it compared to rations when Erda approached, her mask removed and without any guards. Crystil stood, and Erda slowly motioned for her to sit back down. Crystil held up the meat to show her gratitude.
“Thanks,” Crystil said slowly and with confusion, for she had never imagined thanking a ma… a Kastori for anything. “This is actually quite good.”
“You are welcome,” Erda said. “I apologize, our best meat is ursus meat. But we have not been able to grab any in quite some time. Years, in fact.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Cyrus said as he took a big bite, continuing talk to the women’s chagrin. “This food is so good! You have no idea what we’ve been eating. Not even my Dad could make a meal taste this good.”
“Cyrus!” Celeste said, appalled.
“Nothing can match the cooking of a parent, but I thank you for the compliment,” Erda said. She took a seat next to Cyrus and looked directly at Crystil. Try as Crystil might to see nefarious intentions in Erda, she couldn’t even get a hint of annoyance from the chief.
“We must still launch our attack tonight. The longer we delay, the weaker we get and the stronger Calypsius gets. I ask you again, are you willing to fight with us?”
“Yes,” Crystil said, a statement that did not contain half-truths. She would fight but with the sole intention of making Anatolus safe for Cyrus and Celeste.
“After you are finished eating, I will teleport you back to your ship. The teleportation will take a mere few seconds. Do you understand?”
Cyrus gave a thumbs up as he continued eating his food while Celeste and Crystil verbalized their affirmation.
“Your ship gives us an asset which we have never had. I would like to fly with you so that I may combine my magic with your ship’s weapons.”
The notion sent a chill through Crystil. First, have to make peace with the Kastori, then plan with them, and now have to work directly with their most powerful member by my side?
“Yes, you may fly with me,” she said, leaving unsaid, “Just this one time, and afterward, my ship is for me and my friends only.”
“Good. May I ask how agile your ship is? I want to know how I should plan.”
“It’s not that agile compared to the rest of our fleet on Monda, but it’s not a giant brick in the air. And I can’t say how elusive it is relative to the monster. But I am the best pilot on Monda and the best pilot here. I will push the ship to its full capabilities, and then some, if that’s what it takes to kill the beast.”
Erda only gave a smile in response, leaving Crystil wanting a bit more. Erda instead turned to the other two.
“We will bring Calypsius to the battlefield with some of our black magic Kastori. We will also scatter Kastori in the area to launch attacks when we can. Beware, because our magic can only do so much damage, our goal is to use it as a distraction instead of a weapon. Your ship and your weaponry are what we are counting on to win this battle.”
“That…” Crystil began to say, annoyed that they’d have to carry so much of the burden. But she remembered how few Kastori she’d seen, and how barren things above the ground were. Their fight was not hoisted on them by the Kastori, but a necessity for both Kastori and humans. “That is something we will do. I will pilot the ship and use its weapons. Cyrus and Celeste will have Nakar 17s, automatic sniper rifles with explosive rounds. There’s nothing that survives those things.”
“Good,” Erda said, standing up. “That is more than enough information to prepare my people for battle. Take your time eating and come to me when you are ready.”
With a deliberate pause and a prolonged gaze, she said, “Thank you, Crystil,” and turned to leave. If her last three words were meant to establish trust… they worked.
The soldier in her reared back, wanting to know what Erda might have up her sleeve. But just as she’d learn to control the cold commander personality around Celeste and Cyrus, she practiced quieting the doubting voice about Erda. If death came from the Kastori, she knew there was nothing she could do about it.
Cyrus stood up, having finished his food, and walked to the tent. Celeste rose shortly after.
“Take your time,” Celeste said. “We aren’t going anywhere without you.”
Celeste’s words, though casual, resonated with Crystil more than she cared to admit. She was tired of losing those she loved, and the feeling of being isolated emotionally from Cyrus and Celeste had not completely left her system.
She ate quickly, walking over to the tent with food still in her mouth. Cyrus and Celeste were already packing up what few supplies they had left. The Kastori’s elimination of their weapons left their burden much lighter.
“Ready?” Crystil asked, and both Orthrans nodded.
Crystil led them to the golden tent, where Amira, with her mask on, held up a hand. Crystil braced herself for the loss of movement and control, but to her surprise, Amira did not cast a spell.
“Don’t you know to wait,” she said bitterly as if the three of them couldn’t understand instructions. “Erda does not take visitors unannounced. I will make sure she can see you.”
Crystil stopped herself from thinking anything, assuming Amira could read her mind.
Amira’s departure lasted less than five seconds. She briskly returned and motioning for them to enter without a word. Crystil didn’t bother to hide the disgust on her face and lumped her in with the other magicologists on Monda.
Inside, Erda stood alone with her mask on. I’ll never get past that.
“Yes,” Crystil said.
Celeste held Cyrus’ arm tightly, and the older Orthran pulled his sister in close. Crystil, to Celeste’s left, closed her eyes and slowly breathed, as if deep in meditation. She felt Celeste grab her hand, and Crystil opened hers up. Suddenly, Crystil felt the sensation Erda described, starting in her feet and climbing at a steady pace. Crystil wanted to open her eyes and see what was happening, but dared not trifle with magic. The feeling reached her neck, and just in case, Crystil took a deep breath, wondering if that was her last gasp.
The magic rushed to the top of her head, and she suddenly felt warm, fresh air. She opened her eyes and saw Omega One in front of her. She let out her breath of air slowly, happy to quiet the nagging fatalistic voice. She looked up at the sky and was relieved to see the morning sun. Cyrus and Celeste still looked the same. They were still the same people. She was the same person.
“We’re good,” Crystil said calmly. “Let’s go inside and say hello to home again.”
The three briskly walked to the drop-down platform and rose back up in the ship.
“Welcome home,” Cortanus said, leading to pleasant exhalations of relief from Cyrus.
“Good to be home,” Crystil said as she headed for the cockpit. She assumed her commander’s seat and propped her legs up on the dashboard. How long had it been since she assumed that position? Crystil didn’t want to know the answer, because no matter what, it felt too long.
The indulgences did not last long. Crystil walked to the front of a panel on the left wall of the cockpit and pressed her hand against it.
“Cortanus, launch Operation Last Stand,” she said in a slow, clear voice.
She had set the password to be three-pronged—it required a vocalization, the pass phrase and her biometric scan. Once she initiated the transformation, all power would feed straight to the engines and weaponry. No laboratory work, no medical procedures, and no preservation of food could take place. Once she made this change, unless the change was made back within a few hours, there was no turning back. It truly was their last stand.
Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1) Page 20