Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (21-24) Page 35

  “Not all at once,” the dragon admitted, “but I can stop them. Will you give me access to your world’s knowledge?”

  “Will you help us unlock the parts inaccessible to Zen’zat?”

  “Though I think it will make no difference in your fate, I wish you to harm them as much as possible. We have an agreement, but knowledge of my presence must not spread amongst your people. I will only risk so much.”

  “Knowledge of your presence would betray our own secret. We will keep it quiet, though it will take time to arrange. Our world is far from here and the site is…buried.”

  The dragon spun around, swinging its tail over Kara’s head as it retreated to the back of the hibernation chamber. There it reached its four finger/claws on its right limb into a rack containing two rings, then it did the same with its left before walking over additional racks and doing the same on its back limbs. The eight rings in total began to glow cherry red in sync, clashing with the deep grey of the dragon’s skin…then all of a sudden the rings disintegrated and the powder-like material began to expand over its fingers and up its legs. Out of all proportion it gained speed and quickly spread across the dragon’s entire body.

  The powder then began to solidify into hard plates…thousands of tiny, hard plates looking for all the world like red dragon scales, even up and over its wings and down its face, making the giant look even more intimidating than it was before.

  “Stand aside,” it told Kara.

  She glanced at Kel’sad and saw him walking off as well, still in zombie mode, and chose to get out of the dragon’s way as it climbed down and sank its claws into the ridges on the floor, pulling itself along towards the exit and out into the corridor. The Scionate held position off to the side, but Kara gave his frozen form another glance before running off, hopping from one ridge to another as she followed the dragon off elsewhere into the underground caverns.

  7

  Ashley was partway down the long tunnel and just beginning to see activity in the distance when Ske’rar confirmed her suspicions.

  “They are ahead and waiting for us. Several dozen at minimum behind barricades and heavy weapons,” he explained, using his enhanced eyesight, though whether that be from biology or the advanced armor he wore the Archon didn’t know. “The digging machine is a short distance behind them. If we can get past these it is ours, but we will be running straight into their concentrated firepower. I can only block for you for so long, after which it will be up to you to subdue them.”

  “Bad plan,” Terry commented. “Ash, please tell me you have something better in mind?”

  In response Ashley slowed her decline-enhanced run and reached back to pull the compact rocket launcher off her back, exchanging it for her rifle.

  “That’s better.”

  “We need your weapons for the digger,” Ske’rar warned.

  “We need to be alive when we reach the digger,” Ashley countered when a comm line opened.

  “All teams engaging the Nestafar in the tunnel,” Kara’s energetic voice said, “pull back. Repeat, pull back. The Nestafar are coming out. Let them go for now, I’ll explain everything later, but it’s urgent that you do not get in their way or engage them. Pull back now.”

  “What the hell?” Ashley commented. “Ske’rar, hold up,” she said, raising a hand and skidding to a halt. The big cat did likewise just ahead and turned back questioningly, but Ashley was already contacting Kara.

  “We’re about to blow the hell out of their digging machine,” she argued.

  “No need, kiddo. It’s coming out too.”

  “Quit calling me that, I’m as old as you. And what do you mean it’s coming out?”

  “They’re breaking off the assault and don’t ask me why, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. For now just get out of the way.”

  “Copy that,” she said, reattaching the rocket launcher. “Can you see any movement up there?”

  The Scionate turned around and stared off into the distance. “Nothing we can exploit. Why have we stopped?”

  “We’ve been called off. Apparently the Nestafar are withdrawing from the tunnels.”

  Ske’rar did a double take. “Has some form of an agreement been reached?”

  “I don’t know, but something is up. Can you tell whether or not they’ve stopped digging?”

  “I can still feel the vibrations, can you not?”

  Ashley rolled her eyes, unseen beneath her helmet. “Ok, dumb question. Can you see anything else going on up there?”

  “Nothing. They are holding position behind their barricades and the machine continues to advance…”

  “What’s happening?” Terry asked.

  “They are walking out of cover,” the Scionate said as the audible vibrations began to wind down. “And coming up the tunnel.”

  “Armed?” Ashley asked, straining to see the tiny figures in the distance.

  “Yes, they are carrying their weapons, but their movements are slow. They are also disassembling the heavy weapons…and the digger appears to be reversing direction.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Ashley whispered. “Let’s stay ahead of them,” she said as they began to walk back up the tunnel. “Less, Chase…where you at?”

  “Heading out, you?”

  “We’re in pretty far and pacing the digging team on its way out. What’s happening up there?”

  “They stopped fighting a minute after Kara’s message came through and just started walking out to the surface.”

  “What about the protomechs?”

  “They haven’t showed up yet. We’re trying to beat them out just in case.”

  “Meet you outside,” Ashley said, accelerating into a jog. “The rest of their troops are retreating out of the tunnels,” she told Ske’rar.

  “This is very odd,” he commented.

  “No kidding, but as long as they’re not digging forward let’s play along. Kara knows more than she’s saying.”

  “Agreed. Are you fatigued?”

  “No,” Ashley said with confused look under her helmet.

  “Then I suggest we increase our speed and get to the surface as quickly as possible.”

  “Go ahead,” she prompted. “We’ll catch up later.”

  The Scionate huffed, a sign of agreement, and tore off ahead of them eager to find out what was going on.

  Boen lugged Mark around one last piece of engine that he been flung from the crashed ship, climbing up the shallow ridge that it had cut into the ground on impact and stepping across a narrow line of ashes…then they were back into the grasslands that covered the planet and finally out of the debris field.

  “Put me down.”

  “Gladly,” Boen said, dropping the trailblazer onto his good leg and helping him stand in place with a firm grip on his arm.

  “You see anything?”

  Boen looked around the perimeter, but there was nothing aside from grass and mountain ahead of them and debris behind. To the south they could see the edge of the Nestafar encampment, with the walkers barely registering as dots.

  “I don’t want to jinx us, but I think we’re clear.”

  “Call it in,” Mark prompted as he lowered himself down to the ground, grimacing as his broken leg was forced to bend an inch or two. “See if they’ve got that mantis repaired yet, though if I have to I can ride on the top of a skeet.”

  “Not a half bad idea,” Boen said as he activated his comm, thinking that whatever pilot they had fly out here could change places with Mark and let him fly back, then he and Boen could head in on foot rather than risk a dropship. The one surviving mantis had been hit badly, and he figured it wouldn’t be fully operational any time soon. The idea of sending it out wounded to get them was problematic, considering the protomechs and rocket launcher-toting infantry the enemy had in the area.

  Mark pulled off his helmet and keeled over to the side, throwing up as the pain finally won out against his stomach. Fortunately there was no blood in it, but his insides now f
elt almost as messed up as his leg.

  Boen looked down at him, but knowing there was nothing he could do short of organize his extraction he didn’t comment.

  Mark spit out what gunk was left in his mouth then his arms started shaking. For a moment he thought it was due to his weakening condition, perhaps shock setting in, but the vibration in his arms was also in his half numb leg, making it complain in an entirely new fashion, which was when he realized it was the ground that was shaking.

  “What’s that from?” he asked, not in a position to get up and look around.

  “I don’t know, but it’s close.”

  The tremors increased until a section of hillside below them disappeared. Mark couldn’t see it well, hidden in the grasses, but a tunnel mouth appeared with no dirt or debris being thrown about. As if by magic the hollow formed, out of which a red-scaled dragon climbed and stood upon the grasses, stretching out a huge set of scaled wings.

  “What the hell?!” Boen asked, taken aback. “That can’t be the one…”

  With a wicked flap of its wings and a muscular leap off the ground the dragon took flight and rose up a short distance, thereupon it stretched out its wings to their full grandeur and hovered in place, looking down on the Nestafar camp, the debris field, and everything else in view as it rotated its long neck around.

  Suddenly both Archons got a surge of pain in their minds along with words they did not recognize, but whose meaning they somehow understood.

  The pain disappeared as soon as it began, but the words flowed, instructing all those near to cease fighting…with the unmistakable threat of doom should they dare to disobey.

  “Boss, can you hear that?”

  Mark nodded, his nerve already weakened by his injury. The power of the mental contact was so great that he was stunned into silent awe as he stared up at the enormous beast that somehow was staying aloft without flapping its wings.

  “Hey, you still with me?” Boen said, kneeling down next to him without completely taking his eyes off the dragon.

  “Yeah…yeah, sorry,” Mark said, blinking away both pain and the tears welling up in his eyes. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shaking. “Might want to delay that pickup for a while…till the skies are clear.”

  Down in the Nestafar camp where the pair of Archons couldn’t see, the enemy pilots of the nearest walkers began exiting their war machines while the infantry around them, clearly intimidated by the dragon’s words, looked about, confused as to what was happening. Then one of the giraffes on the back edge of the formation, apparently unaffected by the dragon’s mind control, tilted its head around and fired a red plasma blast at the distant aerial target.

  The shot missed badly due to the range, but it prompted several more to follow, along with missiles launched from a pair of spider walkers. Those tracked directly to the dragon and impacted it on the chest and wings, blowing apart in a short-lived fireworks display that left the dragon exactly where it had been. Boen and Mark couldn’t see what damage had been done, for they were on the wrong viewing side of the attack, but they didn’t miss the subsequent roar of rage, both audial and mental, that ripped forth from the great beast…followed by it flapping its wings and rising higher up into the sky as more plasma and missiles came in at it.

  It flew in lazily towards the camp and halfway there stalled out briefly, flapping its wings forward once violently, which resulted in some sort of clear ripple through the air that crossed to the now moving walkers in less than two seconds…and knocked them off their feet as if they were toys. The super dragon tipped over as well, falling on its right side and crushing a protomech that got swept up underneath.

  The zombified Nestafar in the ruins that could see what was happening suddenly snapped out of their haze, turning their weapons on the dragon or heading towards it for those that were out of firing range. The remaining upright walkers in the camp began heading towards the dragon, firing as they went…then the leaders would stop their advance and weaponsfire as their minds were frozen once again, though it seemed that combat was significantly diminishing the dragon’s ability to hold as many minds inert as before.

  “Get that transport in here now,” Mark urged, watching the dragon sweep its wings again, this time towards the ground from overhead and crush one of the stalled spiders with the invisible concussion wave as rounds of plasma were hitting its red scales and appearing to do no damage whatsoever…though it was difficult to see from such a distance. Regardless, the dragon wasn’t thwarted and continued to quickly break up the overflowing camp of enemies that Mark and the Alliance had been about to be overwhelmed by. How one aerial craft, dragon or not, could be so powerful filled Mark with a mixture of both dread and inspiration.

  “Already on the way,” Boen said, lifting Mark up to his feet. “You feel up to flying?”

  “Not really,” Mark said, tearing his eyes away from the carnage below for a moment. “What did you do?”

  “You’re flying back, we’re running,” he said, catching a glimpse of reflected light from the top of the mountain as a skeet zipped over the summit. “Three minutes and you’ll be in the air.”

  “Thank you,” Mark said, for more than just the good news.

  Boen nodded, but didn’t say anything until the skeet got to their position and landed. When the hatch opened Liara hopped out on top and helped Boen lift Mark up and into position, which took some doing without leveraging his bad leg. Still, getting it over the pommel and into position hurt him badly, but once down on the seat he was more than happy for the tradeoff.

  “Doors are open,” she told him from behind his head as he reconfigured the controls so he wouldn’t need to use his bad leg. “Put her down by the column, we’ve got people standing by.”

  “Better step back,” Mark warned. “I’m a bit shaky.”

  Liara smiled beneath her helmet, but her mirth was still evident in her voice. “At least now I can say there was one day I was a better pilot than you.”

  She slid down off the skeet and ran around it to where Boen was already climbing the mountain at an angle to get to the nearest auxiliary entrance a few kilometers away. They both glanced back as the skeet slowly rose up into the air and shot out ahead of them…then the Archons picked up the pace, turning the ascent into a mixture of workout and race, eager to get back inside and away from the dragon.

  “Do you know what’s going on with that?” Boen asked, thumbing back over his shoulder towards the one-sided battle.

  “Kara’s doing. She was starting to explain when you called for pickup.”

  “Is that the same one that we found below?”

  “Sleeping beauty it is, and she brokered some sort of deal with it.”

  “Score one for Kara,” Boen said, feeling slightly less at risk but still wanting to get back inside as quickly as possible.

  The Zak’de’ron landed in the midst of what had been the Nestafar camp, lifting up and crushing one of the giraffes without even touching it. The walker simply levitated then collapsed down into a rough ball, which was then thrown into a nearby spider, denting and knocking it off its feet as another telepathic wave shot out to those in the immediate vicinity.

  “Submit!” he warned, “or I will destroy you all.”

  A group of flying infantry fired a pair of rockets towards the dragon, but a pyre of blue flame shot out from its throat, vaporizing both rockets and the Nestafar that had fired them.

  With considerable mental prodding the minds around him began to cave…not him overriding their control of their own bodies, but submitting to his will and command, once again becoming the Zak’de’ron’s servants as they once had, though he knew such servitude would be short lived if he could not also control those in orbit above.

  The minds elsewhere were also in turmoil, but a quick check of those at the tunnel entrance confirmed that they were still obeying his orders, though the aftereffects were beginning to wear off. He sent another surge of telepathic energy their way, furth
ering his tenuous link binding them to his will. So long as the Zen’zat or their pathetic allies didn’t fire on them they shouldn’t be able to break free of his control…and if the fools did, the outcome would serve their stupidity well.

  The dragon walked over to one of the broken spiders and lifted it up into the air by apparent magic and loosed a stream of fire into the side of it, melting straight through and cutting the machine in half. It threw the two pieces aside in concurrence with another telepathic wave, this one reaching even further in range and he felt the outlying troops submitting in turn.

  A few dozen at a time he contacted directly, imposing his will and command on them until they fully submitted, then he withdrew the focus of his mind while leaving only a tiny monitoring tendril behind. In such a way the dragon quickly and efficiently conscripted the surviving Nestafar troops to its command and had them abandon their machines, then fly back over to their LZ while he trashed their walkers beyond repair, both as a demonstration of power and in order to take away their means to fight should they shuck his mental control as he contended with the others.

  Eventually he returned to flight, relishing in the battle and the freedom of the air once again after having slept for so many countless years. He stayed aloft for some time, picking off the minds of those Nestafar that had remained behind at their landing zone, including the pilots of the dropships on station.

  From them he also learned many secrets, now that he had the time to pry into their memories. He learned of the assault in orbit and the victory of the Zen’zat in the defense of their orbital station. Crude as it may have been, the design and tactics employed were sound, befitting their ancestry. He had always wondered what the Ter’nat would become if taken off the V’kit’no’sat’s leash. The other races had deemed them stupid and unworthy of peerdom, but then again the Zak’de’ron viewed the other races just the same.

  The Ter’nat had been primitive savages when the Hjar’at had discovered and conquered them, then they were ‘elevated’ to mere primitives and allowed to reproduce as a labor force, given their small size and dexterity. They learned quickly, however, and soon became valued slaves that the other races demanded be shared. The Hjar’at complied, and the Ter’nat became wards of the V’kit’no’sat. The Zen’zat had been created so that their new slaves could better serve the more advanced duties needed of them, as well as making them at least minimally useful on the battlefield and had proven remarkably adept for such primitive origins.