Our ship jolted from another successful enemy blast, and the Dust-drill slipped from my fingers. The entire contents of Alpha Dust inside the cannister spilled onto the floor.
“Shit!” I scrambled to scrape up the fallen particles, but couldn’t gather any with my fingers. I held the vial of Alpha Dust to the light and saw only a fraction of the magical mineral remaining. I poured the contents of the vial into the drill’s container and hoped it would be sufficient for Casey’s rune.
With the meager amount of Alpha Dust now inside the drill, I put the tool inside my belt pouch and searched the cannon for the rune I needed to complete. It wasn’t visible on the topside of the weapon, so I tried to maneuver around it. The squeeze was too tight between the bulkheads and the giant barrel with all of my equipment on, so I laid my weapons on the ground and wriggled out of my chest piece and blood soaked arm sleeves.
“Three minutes and forty-three seconds before the Cachalot fires another rune-nuke,” Commander Reynolds reported over the general channel. “Unfortunately, we cannot jump any longer. Matthias is locked within the long-range portal summon, and the other jump mages are unable to use their jump spheres. If Mr. Lyons can’t get the cannon working, this might be our last hurrah, crew.”
“No pressure,” I muttered to myself as I stared up at the underside of the metal cylinder. I used the torch on my helmet to illuminate the belly of the weapon, and saw a rune matching the sigil on my longsword with some slight variations. The gap between my body and the cannon was only ten centimeters wide, so I twisted my uninjured arm and slid it down my torso to remove the drill from my belt pouch.
My hands were shaking as I pushed the drill bit to the beginning edge of the rune. The chuck whirled to life upon sensing the pressure, and the Alpha Dust caulked the incisions made with the drill. Flecks of metal and dust spotted my visor, and I tried to ignore the constant sounds of destruction as the enemy warship pounded the Stalwart with its weapons. The pain in my arm helped a bit, and I was able to focus on the agony and tune out the sounds of battle while I sketched over the rune with the drill.
“My team’s shields are completely down, Captain,” Moses reported. “We can’t guard against any fire, but we still have the standard hull shields.”
“Yeoman Nolan, how many more hits can we take on the hull shields?”
“Less than four, but the shielder power should be back up in thirty seconds. If we can last that long,” Nolan responded.
“Squire Lyons, do you have the cannon working yet?” Captain Cross asked me. “You’ll have a brief second between hits of enemy fire to shoot that thing, and you’ll only get one chance.”
“Just another minute, Captain,” I said. “I’ll let you know as soon as it’s ready to fire.”
“We’re relying on you,” he replied. “Crew, we only have to endure the next thirty seconds. Then thirty seconds more after the shields come online again. Then we’re gonna blow this damned Cachalot to pieces.”
It was hard to ignore the overwhelming pressure I was under, but a few seconds later, my trembling hand sealed the final line on the rune, and it pulsed with arcane energy. First, it was an auburn colour, and then it shifted to a deadly crimson. The magical sigil was active now, but I didn’t know how to fire the cannon.
I searched for some way of getting it online within this room. My stomach twisted as I saw the edges of a console buried beneath the rubble. I carefully moved the metal pieces aside with my one working arm, and I tried not to think about how shifting these items might be causing debris on the other side to move, crushing Casey further.
After I removed the refuse from the console, I noticed the computer system was still functional and powered it on. The holo monitor generated a view of space in front of the cannon. Unlike the gunner terminals, this weapon was fitted with a fully-automated targeting system.
I exhaled in relief as I contacted the captain. “I’m preparing the cannon to fire, Captain.”
“Glad to hear that, Squire Lyons,” he said.
“One other thing, sir. Our basic shields will likely go down for the time it takes the cannon to draw enough energy to release a forcewave.”
It was a guess, but an intelligent one. The runes on this cannon looked like my longsword’s Forcewave rune. If it functioned the same, the projectile the cannon fired would be comprised of prot-field energy. That meant it had to come from somewhere.
“Sounds like a mighty big risk,” Captain Cross said. “The hull can’t endure much more direct fire. Are you sure this will work?”
“Not really,” I replied. “But I don’t see we have any other choice.”
There was silence on the general channel for a few seconds, and I imagined Captain Cross was doing some hard thinking.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Squire Lyons.”
Captain Cross’s words steadied my hand as I held my palm rune over the console’s scanner. I exhaled as the security system granted me entry.
“You have three seconds to fire that thing, Mr. Lyons,” Commander Reynolds said in my ear.
With a few more swipes of my hand and prods of my fingers, I initiated the shield extraction sequence and was one push away from sending the Stalwart’s prot-field at the warship.
I breathed and then pushed fire.
The holo above the console showed a blue projectile shaped like a giant spear launch toward the Bulwark. The projectile unfolded as it closed in on the warship, transforming into a giant squid-like entity. Its tentacles enclosed around the enemy vessel, and then it seemed to constrict its limbs.
The Bulwark’s hull distorted and twisted beneath the pressure of the animated squid. I imagined the terrified screaming of the crew inside the warship as they tried to find some way of avoiding their inevitable end. Polgar would be wondering how we’d managed to fight back, and I couldn’t say I was displeased that the sorcerer’s heart would soon cease to beat.
The squid’s tentacles tightened, and the Bulwark’s guns gave one final protest before the hull split apart. A blinding flash followed as the engines exploded. Bright orange gas ballooned around the ship into a floral pattern. More fireworks spotted the monitor; cascading blue and purple bubbles. The many lights of the warship’s magical runes were like a cosmic mandala, and I couldn’t look away.
The lights faded, leaving only debris drifting in all directions from where the Stalwart’s prot-field had struck the Bulwark.
I stared at the twisting debris of the warship and felt a flurry of emotions. I was happy to be alive, of course, but I’d also killed hundreds of my fellow RTF comrades. I knew Polgar had been a snake, and these people had been loyal to him.
Still, the RTF were supposed to be fighting Grendels, not each other.
Silence reigned across all the Stalwart’s communication channels for a few seconds until the crew cheered loudly. My earpiece blared with the celebratory sound, and I smiled.
“Nice work, Squire Lyons,” Captain Cross said after the almost endless bout of whooping calmed. “Jump mages, how long before we can get out of here?”
“I am initiating the long-range portal now. All I need is a location,” Matthias replied over the ship’s communication systems, and it sounded as if the machina was smiling as he spoke.
“Sending you the coordinates now. Let’s get those thrusters firing.” The starship shifted even as the captain spoke.
I heard groaning from behind me and remembered Casey was still stuck beneath the wreckage. A servitor had already begun repairing this section of the ship, removing most of the heavier rubble from atop the enchantress. I lifted a large sheet of metal, and I saw Casey’s injured form.
The enchanter glanced up at me, and I saw blood pouring out of her nose. “Did you do it?”
“Yeah,” I said as I choked down the lump in my throat. Her face was too pale. “Not a bad weapon you built.”
“I’m only jealous I wasn’t the one to fire it.” She offered me a weak smile, and I knelt to inspect her wounds. H
er right leg was crushed up to the hip, and she’d no doubt broken a few bones, but I couldn’t see any evidence of a spinal injury. Her breathing was soft and almost silent. My arm was still leaking blood from my injury, but I ignored it, and used my medkit on the enchantress.
There was a lot of blood, and Casey’s thin lips were turning blue, but I refused to believe she would die after all of this. I carefully cradled her in my arms, sighed as my bicep screamed, and then lifted her up against my chest as I stood.
A screeching noise came from above me, and I prepared for more rubble raining from the ceiling. The bulkheads seemed to bend beneath an intense pressure, and I guessed we were now traveling through the LR portal. My heart stopped as I watched two bulkheads almost wrestle free from their bolts, but they stilled after a second.
“Alright, crew, let’s get the injured to the infirmary and clean this starship up,” Captain Cross said.
Somehow, we’d survived a fight with a Cachalot warship. I just needed to ensure the enchantress in my arms wouldn’t be a casualty.
Chapter 27
All I could think about was losing Casey as I sprinted through the narrow passageway. I entered the arcane chamber and saw the jump mages still within the lesser spheres. Matthias was floating inside a vat behind the center sphere, replenishing his energies with biofluid.
I raced to the elevator, but it had been damaged from the assault, so I was forced to take the ladder down the shaft to Deck 2. With Casey in my left arm, I descended the rungs and hoped the medkit would keep her alive for long enough to get her medical help.
When I got to the infirmary, Dr. Lenkov looked up from the yeoman she was attending to and removed her spectacles. “Put her here,” she said, pointing at the only other unoccupied bed. The entire infirmary was filled with injured, and I wondered whether there were any dead. The Stalwart had certainly been subjected to enough enemy fire to cause a large number of casualties.
I let the enchantress rest on the mattress as the medical officer attached Casey to the life support systems. Her vital signs were weak, but she was still alive.
I could feel the wetness of blood on my arm and remembered the wounds Polgar’s artillerymen had given me. My senses were becoming dull, so I leaned back onto a mattress with one hand and allowed it to take most of my weight.
Blackness swallowed me up, and I woke sometime later with an IV tube running from my arm. My wounds were dressed, and my clothes had been removed.
“Hello, Squire Lyons,” Dr. Lenkov said with a smile. The pod chair she was sitting on drifted over to me.
“Where’s Casey?” I asked as I searched the infirmary beds.
“Resting in her quarters. Although I’m more concerned with your current state of health, Squire Lyons. It seems you’ve had quite a series of eventful days. Did you sleep at all?”
“Not really,” I said as I pulled the tube out of my arm. I stood, and the blankets fell away. A chill ran over my chest as well as my nether regions.
Dr. Lenkov stared at my body, and I saw a flicker of something like admiration cross her dark eyes. I remembered that I had thought about asking her to dinner, but I didn’t know if I’d be allowed on this ship after I spoke to the captain.
“I wouldn’t leave quite yet if I were you. Captain Cross wants a word, and I’ve let him know you’ve awoken.” Dr. Lenkov seemed to have read my mind, and she nodded at a table beside me. “There’s a clean set of clothes.”
“Does the rest of the crew still want to kill me?” I asked the doctor as I slipped on the blue squire uniform. I wasn’t sure if I deserved to wear official garb of the kingdom’s military after what I’d done, but I wanted to cover myself in something before the captain arrived.
“Not all of them,” she said with a smirk. “Sometimes it takes a great show of remorse to gain forgiveness. Your work with the cannon was an exemplary effort, but sometimes forgiveness never comes. I think you are a good man, Squire Lyons, and I hope all of the crew will forgive you.”
“I want that more than anything,” I said. “I didn’t know Silvester Polgar was such a dishonorable man.”
“You believe too readily in the goodness of others. Not everyone has the kingdom’s interests at heart. You may be surprised to learn who it is the crew serves.”
I was about to ask Dr. Lenkov who she was referring to when Olav entered the infirmary. He wasn’t wearing his armor anymore, and he’d shaved his beard. He grinned at me, but it was an expression of malice, not happiness.
“Alright,” he said as he brandished a hatchet from behind his back. “Time to deal with the traitor.”
Dr. Lenkov gasped, and I leaped from the bed and grabbed a metal tray to defend myself with.
Olav smiled at me maniacally as he raised his weapon.
“Olav Kjeldsen!” Captain Cross shouted from the infirmary’s doorway. “Are you about to harm a crew member?”
The berserker’s grin faded as he slowly turned to face the captain. “Uhh . . . No,” Olav said as he glanced at his weapon, then to me, then to the captain. “I was just showing it to him. It’s my favorite axe, after all. I thought he’d want to see it.”
“In the sick bay?” Captain Cross raised a bushy eyebrow.
“Well, seeing my axes always makes me feel better,” the berserker huffed as he slid the haft of the weapon into his belt.
“I’m glad to see that I misunderstood the situation. You know how I feel about crew members trying to kill each other.” A half smile came to Cross’ mouth, and the man’s eyes actually seemed to twinkle.
“Ahh, he stopped being a crew member when he betrayed us, Captain.” Olav crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, and then shook his head at me.
“Squire Lyons was forced into his traitorous acts, manipulated by Silvester Polgar,” the captain said. “Matthias also tells me he may be useful in our quest.”
“Not sure how useful a traitor can be, but I’ll leave him be, for now.” Olav narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ll be watching you, Squire, and so will my axes.” He prodded me in the chest with a thick finger, turned to salute the captain, and then marched off.
“Thank you, Dr. Lenkov for treating the injured. Were it not for you, we might have had more than six deaths from the battle,” Captain Cross said to the medical officer. “You may leave us now.”
Dr. Lenkov touched her chest in salute and left the room.
Captain Cross approached me without a word. He walked around me, looking me up and down before stopping directly in front of me. His eyes peered into mine as though he were searching my soul for something. It wasn’t like the diviner’s gift where they could filter through minds, it was a wise man’s ability to determine the character of a person by gazing into the windows of their soul.
The captain nodded as if answering an unspoken question he’d asked himself. At last the man seemed satisfied with whatever judgment he’d made about me.
“Squire Lyons, it’s time for you to learn the true purpose of the Stalwart and her crew.”
“Aye, Captain,” I said, overjoyed I would finally find out exactly what was happening on this starship.
I followed the captain through the passageway to the elevator. Some of the crew we passed gave me accolades, thanking me for saving our ship with the rune-cannon. Others still showed their abject hatred of me, and I didn’t blame them. I figured it’d be some time before I earned back their trust. Dr. Lenkov said some of them might never trust me again, and I wouldn’t begrudge them for that. Still, I was going to do my best to make things right if Captain Cross allowed me to remain on the Stalwart.
We took the elevator to Deck 5, and then the captain led me into the armory. He walked by the servitors attending to a crippled bulkhead and raised his palm to the sealed door. I’d seen this door when the pirates had attacked. The room behind it was where Polgar’s grand knights retrieved the king’s armor. The runes on the doorway activated, glowed a dazzling blue, and then the door hissed open.
The cap
tain entered the room and then bowed. I walked inside and saw what Cross had given obeisance to. A golden throne sat in the center of the square-shaped chamber, and sitting on the throne was an almost tangible holo of King Justinian. The bulkheads were painted in runic murals, depicting the various stages in the renowned life of the late king. Incense drifted from jeweled thuribles at each corner, and my head was filled with the sweet aroma.
The room was like a very small cathedral or church, and I was struck by the intense religious atmosphere of this hallowed place.
Resting on pedestals surrounding the holographic king were the gauntlets and boots, as well as a ring and a monocle.
“We have only gathered four items thus far,” the captain stated, though his gaze didn’t shift from the king’s holo. Captain Cross’ eyes were watery, and I knew then that this man was devoted to the throne in a manner far greater than Silvester Polgar or Duke Barnes.
“Why have you stored them in this . . . shrine?” Shrine was the only word I could think of to describe this strange room inside the Stalwart.
“Because there are people who would steal them from us. The pirates who attacked us learned of the items aboard our vessel. I can only guess how they knew about them, but I believe word must have travelled about our quest to retrieve King Justinian’s armor from the Seraphic portals.”
“Why do you want the armor?” Question upon question compounded in my mind, but I was hesitant to rattle them off in succession. Still, the captain seemed willing to answer them.
“We have been assigned the mission directly from the Queen.”
“Duke Barnes said the same thing to me,” I said. “Not that I think you’re lying, it’s just--”
Captain Cross bristled, and the lines in his square jaw hardened before softening again. “I understand. You wish for some proof. It’s a reasonable request. Only I cannot give it to you now. Soon, you will have all the proof you need. Queen Catrina has enemies close to her. She is alone in a den of vipers. Our mission will bring to light a betrayal which ended her father’s life.”
Space Knight Page 42