by M. R. Forbes
Flying a faux Apocalypse fighter?
It didn’t have any limitations.
It sped up as soon as he added thrust. It altered vectors the moment he touched the stick. Its HUD tracked every object around him, which was even more impressive because there were a bucketful of them. It also painted laser blasts, giving him an indication of the direction and angle of his attacker so he could take proper evasive maneuvers.
He had always wondered why starfighter pilots were such arrogant assholes.
Now he knew.
“Roger,” Phlenel said in unison with Ruby and Trinity. They hung close to his short, aggressive wings, keeping a tight formation as they closed on Prophet Azul’s ships.
The ships were easy to spot. They were old, they were pieced together, and they had a big, fiery crown painted on the sides of them, marked so everyone in the Nephiliat would know who the badass with the massive fleet was.
“Do you think Azul was a starfighter pilot?” Bastion asked.
“What?” Ruby replied.
“Never mind.”
Rezel’s ships were similar, though they looked even older and more cobbled, and were much fewer in number. They had a simpler logo on the side, a pitchfork or something but without the handle.
Both groups were angling toward the Covenant, launching ballistics at the Shardship and apparently having forgotten they had been killing one another a few seconds earlier. The Covenant was absorbing the damage with little reproach, blocking the impacts with shields or in some cases allowing it, and probably accelerating some of the conversion processes at the same time. Bastion was still amazed by Keeper’s ability to make nearly realtime changes to the structure and layout of the craft, and still a little creeped out by the tendrils that seemed to appear at will, grabbing materials and making them vanish, only to replace them with something new and better not long after.
Crazy, but not any crazier than Abbey’s pet dragon.
“We’re going to circle back and run through Rezel’s fleet and feed them toward Azul,” Bastion said. “Hopefully they’ll get the hint.”
“Roger,” Ruby and Phlenel said.
Bastion adjusted the path of the fighter and engaged the thrusters, feeling the g's as the increased velocity pushed him back. Ruby and Phlenel kept pace, hanging close as they veered in toward Rezel’s ships.
A barrage of lasers and smaller projectiles greeted them, breaking out toward them and forcing their formation to loosen. They spread apart, taking evasive maneuvers and dipping around the attacks, HUDs giving them clear indication of the threats. Bastion had to stop himself from whooping as he rolled away from a series of lasers, swooping toward the deck of one of Rezel’s corvettes. Gun batteries tried to match his flight path and failed as he buzzed the bridge, crossing the starship and heading to the rear of the fleet.
“Enemy fighters are launching,” Ruby said.
Bastion’s HUD confirmed her comment a moment later, a series of red dots spilling from Rezel’s group. Azul hadn’t bothered to unleash the hounds yet, keeping his smaller craft safe while his larger ships kept peppering the Covenant. Keeper was firing back, its shots measured and careful, sure not to do too much damage to most of the enemy ships.
“Go around them,” Bastion said. “Do not engage.”
“Affirmative,” Phlenel said.
He adjusted his fighter’s stick again, spinning the craft back toward the rear of Rezel’s fleet, turning more tightly than any other ship would dare. Then he pumped the throttle again, darting forward, returning to the middle of the battle group.
Starfighters were coming at them, and he recognized them as models that were at least a hundred years old. They were outdated and outclassed, nearly worthless against an Apocalypse with an even halfway competent pilot. He was tempted to squeeze the trigger and send a few rounds into the enemy, but in this case they weren’t the enemy, even if they didn’t know it yet. He threw the fighter into a series of hard evasive maneuvers, blowing through the oncoming enemy so quickly they were little more than soft blurs around him.
Ruby and Phlenel tightened back up on his sides as they dove across Rezel’s fleet, moving perpendicular when the ships began turning to face the Covenant.
“Come on, you assholes,” he said. “We’re on your side.”
He targeted Azul’s lead ship, locking it with one of the fighter’s heavy ordnance, a meter-long guided missile with a penetrating tip and a nuclear payload.
“I’ve got a lock,” he said. “Here goes something, I hope.”
He depressed the trigger. At first it seemed like nothing had happened, but then the projectile’s rocket-motor kicked in, sending it streaking ahead toward the warship. He followed the bright flare at its rear while the targeting computer adjusted its vector, keeping it on track. His HUD began lighting up anew, more fighters launching from Azul’s forces and coming their way.
“Pudding, Ruby, fire at will,” he said.
“Roger,” Phlenel said. “Firing.”
A nuke launched from her fighter, the spear joining his and following on nearly the same track.
His hand tightened on the stick as the nuke reached the target. He expected it to detonate against the shields, its powerful blast hopefully weakening them enough for follow up attacks to make it through.
Instead, there was no sign of detonation at all.
Instead, the HUD indicated that the projectile had altered course and headed directly for the Covenant.
“What the frag?” he said.
Then the enemy fighters were on them, taking his eyes away from that part of the HUD. He spun the fighter to the left, locking on a target and firing, slamming it with a dozen rounds that tore through its ancient shields and ripped it apart. He vectored over it, flipping gently, targeting a second ship and firing. Another kill.
His HUD beeped, indicating that his missile had hit something. He glanced out to the Covenant, to the flash created by the detonation. Debris scattered from the impact site right before a second flash joined the first.
“They redirected the missiles,” Trinity said.
“How?” Bastion said without thinking. Of course, he knew how.
The fragging Gift. Son of a bitch.
“We need to get in closer,” Trinity said. “We can’t give them the chance to stop our attack.”
“If we get closer, won’t they grab us instead?” Bastion asked. “I don’t feel like being thrown around like a football.”
He jerked the fighter into a hard lift and flipped it back over, taking out another enemy fighter. He could see the other Rejects around him, easily defeating the smaller craft.
“It depends,” Trinity replied.
“I hate that answer. Depends on what?”
“How powerful the Gifted is. Don’t fly in a straight line and it will make it harder for them.”
“It would help if the other side would wake up,” Phlenel said. “We’re killing the bad guys for them, and they’re still not engaging.”
“They’ve slowed their rate of fire on the Covenant,” Ruby said.
“Hopefully not just because they’re running out of ammo,” Bastion said. “Right, we get in closer, keep changing vectors and hope for the best. Frag, I hate flying starfighters. I hope Queenie’s having better luck on the ground.”
41
“Oh, frag,” Gant shouted behind her as they began to plummet toward the ground. “How do we know this thing can fly? What if gravity is lower on the other side of the Veil?”
Abbey watched the ground rising toward them, the dragon’s wings beginning to sweep up and down as they fell. It had taken three massive strokes before they evened out, and three more before they started to regain altitude, dropping close enough to the street that she could see the Lessers trying to hide within their ramshackle buildings.
Then they were up and away and darting toward the Freejects, covering the air at a pace she couldn’t have matched, even with her Shardsuit and the Gift. The freed slaves wer
e already under heavy fire from a pair of Skellig squads, their thick mechanical armor launching explosive darts up the hillside while a group of Executioners began scaling the incline.
She put her hand on the side of Dog’s head, passing him more energy and sending her orders. The dragon adjusted course slightly, turning toward the Skelligs and diving.
“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” Gant said, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight.
It was all she could do not to cry out in joy at the ride. Who would have ever thought she’d find herself on the back of a creature like this, charging into a battle? It was something out of a Construct simulation.
In part, she wished it still was. Those were real individuals dying down there, not avatars that could come back and fight another day.
“Okay, hold your fire, we’re coming in,” Abbey said. Dog was closing on the Nephilim, and she didn’t want to risk them making him angry. She still wasn’t completely sure what level of control she had over the beast.
“Roger. Freejects, hold your fire!”
She noticed them duck back behind cover, Pik leading them on the retreat. She also caught sight of a segment of Rezel’s slave army closing the distance from behind. The teleporter had gotten them here, but not in the positions she wanted.
“Okay, watch your ass. Rezel’s group is moving up behind you. Take the Freejects lateral toward the city to avoid.”
“Roger.”
She could see him shout and point. The Freejects followed him immediately.
She put her eyes forward as Dog slowed suddenly, the Skelligs turning at the sight of the approaching monster. He roared as he straightened and fell, hitting the ground hard almost on top of the targets.
“Gant, the ride’s over. Time to get to work.”
She jumped from Dog’s neck, landing beside the dragon. Gant was next to her a moment later, short blade in hand.
The Skelligs were backing away from Dog, turning to fire up at him. Abbey reached out with the Gift, throwing up a shield ahead of him as their weapons discharged, bolts crossing a few meters before exploding, leaving him unharmed. His head snapped downward, and he grabbed one of the armors in his mouth, biting down and discarding it, leaving it a mangled mess. A heavy claw swept through another one, throwing it fifty meters into the side of a rock, the impact crushing it.
Abbey heard shouting to her left, turned and saw the Executioners had given up on the hillside and were coming back their way. She released the shield, keeping the Gift static until the Skelligs fired again. She caught the rockets with it, changing their direction and flinging them toward the foot soldiers. Mounds of earth exploded around the Executioners, and a handful of them fell.
Abbey sensed the Apostant before she saw him, a tingle on the back of her neck warning her of the danger. She spun to face it, slashing her hand down and away, using her Gift to pull the flames of the Venerant’s attack away from her. The Nephilim watched in surprise, his face twisting at his failure. He drove toward her, leaping through the air while pulling a black Uin from his hip.
She was taken off-guard by the weapon, not having seen the Nephilim use it before. The Venerant came down on the attack, slashing and kicking, his body a blur of motion. She reacted on instinct, smacking his hands away, turning with his momentum and letting him use all of the energy. He tumbled past, rolling to his feet and putting his hand out toward her again, a new line of flame sprouting there. She raised her hand to stop it, finding herself in sudden pain from behind.
A second Venerant had come upon her there, hitting her with the Gift. She grunted and fell forward, her back on fire through the Shardsuit.
She heard Gant bark above her, rolled to see him leaping toward the Venerant behind her. He redirected the Gift, trying to hit Gant with it, eyes growing wide as the flames refused to touch him, parting around him as he neared.
Gant buried the sword in the Venerant’s neck, yanking it through and taking his head with it.
Abbey got back up, rolling to her feet and extending her Shardsuit into claws. She pounced toward the Venerant, forcing him to bring the Uin up in defense, slashing and cutting at him faster than he could manage to block. Her left hand raked his chest, cutting open his lightsuit and trailing blood as she circled around him, bringing her right hand down his back. He tried to retreat, only to find himself on the wrong side of Gant’s blade.
“I hate these assholes,” Gant said, yanking it from the Venerant’s gut and dropping back to the ground.
Abbey grabbed the Venerant, turning him around.
“Who are you?” he gasped.
“The Queen,” she replied, bringing her hand through his neck.
She turned to look for more opponents. The field was littered with bodies, and she watched as a dozen Asura Legionnaires flashed in and out of phase around her, seeking out the targets and dispatching them in accordance with her commands. Dog was a dozen meters away, chewing on one of the Executioners.
“Queenie,” Jequn’s voice pierced the comm. She had lost track of the individual Rejects during the scramble to reach the Freejects.
“Cherub,” Abbey said. “What’s your status?”
“I’m inside the Apostant’s part of the city with Joker and Uriel.”
“We’ve got good news and bad news,” Benhil said.
“What’s the good news?” Abbey asked.
“I think I made a new friend,” Uriel said. “A very pretty friend, actually. Very pretty.”
“And?” Abbey said impatiently.
“I convinced her that we’re here to help Rezel. She sent orders to her Honorants not to attack our units. She’s also sending word to her fleet to stop shooting at the Covenant and start helping out.”
“That’s great news. What’s the bad?”
“The very pretty friend in question is apparently the Prophet Rezel. It seems the Liliat Empire only has one planet left, and we’re standing on it.”
Abbey felt her stomach wrench. “What?” she said breathlessly.
“Helk’s a little out of touch with current events,” Benhil said. “Thraven’s allies have been picking the Liliat Empire apart for the last six months, chasing her from her home world all the way outward to the edge of Azul’s holdings.”
Abbey could hear a female voice speaking in the background. It had to be Rezel talking to Uriel. He chimed back in a moment later.
“I have worse news.”
Abbey groaned. The army she had envisioned wasn’t going to materialize. Her entire plan had gone to hell in about thirty seconds. How were things going to get much worse?
“What is it?” she asked, even though she was sure she didn’t want to know.
“Azul is on his way here to demand Rezel’s surrender in person.”
Abbey glanced over at Gant. He had to be thinking what she was thinking because his cute little face split into what she could only take as a mischievous grin.
“Come on,” she said, breaking for Dog with Gant right behind her.
She vaulted to the dragon’s back, reaching out and catching Gant’s hand and pulling him up. She put her other hand on Dog’s side, beckoning him into the sky.
“Okay, what’s your status?” she asked, seeking out the Freejects.
“We’re clear, Queenie,” Pik replied. “We joined up with Rezel’s squad, and we’re fortifying the perimeter. Not that I think we need to. The other assholes that we brought to fight these assholes are doing a killer job, and I mean that literally.”
Abbey could see what he meant as Dog gained altitude. The Asura were spread across the battlefield, and while the Scouts had mostly been killed, the Legionnaires were much harder to fight. They blinked in and out of phase around the Nephilim advance, stabbing and vanishing, cutting through the enemy lines with abandon. For a moment, she had the thought that they didn’t need any additional troops. A dozen Asura Legionnaires on each of Thraven’s ships could seize control within minutes. A group this size on the ground woul
d be nearly unstoppable.
“Sergeants, halt your attack.” She passed the command through the Gift, to the Legion Sergeants on the surface below. “Regroup in the city. Remain out of phase.”
“We will deliver victory to you, my Queen,” one of the Sergeants replied. “In homage to your power.”
They didn’t stop attacking. They didn’t follow her command.
“Damn it, I said stop,” she replied. “Stop your attack. The battle is over.”
“Some of the things remain. We will destroy them for you.”
“You’ll follow my orders. I want some of them alive. Halt your advance.”
“As you command.”
The Asura vanished from the battlefield at once. She could only assume they would regroup as she had ordered.
She remembered King, along with Keeper’s warnings. The Asura were deadly, but also dangerous. She was controlling them now but for how long? What would happen if they picked up the scent of the Darkstone? Would they follow her orders or would they abandon her to seek its power?
She had a feeling she knew the answer.
“Uriel,” she said.
“Aye, Queenie.”
“Tell Rezel to do whatever she must to stop the fighting. Call the surrender now.”
She could hear him talking to her, and her response.
“She won’t surrender to anyone but Azul,” Uriel said.
Abbey sighed. She was afraid he was going to say that.
“I’m on my way.”
42
“Hell yeah,” Bastion shouted, nearly hitting his fist on the canopy as he pumped it. “This is more like it.”
Rezel’s ships had suddenly adjusted course, turning back to Azul’s forces and accelerating, breaking toward the Prophet’s fleet. The Covenant had been keeping a steady stream of plasma firing from its new fixtures, but the number of targets and the strength of the Nephilim Gift was nearly neutralizing it as a threat.
Now that the Liliat Empire’s Gifted were joining their side of the fight, maybe they could start doing some real damage.