Dragan's eyes widened the second the blip appeared on the ship's radar.
"There!" he cried, jabbing his finger onto the console -- nearly getting Bruno in the face in the process. "That's it! That's the ship!"
It hadn't been difficult to get the signature for the ship that had taken Skipper. After all, the owner hadn't exactly been subtle. He'd boarded the ELIZA, killed everyone in his way, and then left. All they had to do was check which ship had docked without authorization right before the carnage started.
Dragan's heart hammered in his chest as they weaved through asteroids and clouds of stardust, slowly but surely making their way towards their quarry. Thank goodness he'd been right about the route Avaman would be taking, too.
This wasn't the safest way back to Supremacy space, but it was the fastest. As he'd hoped, the First Contender had prioritized speed over anything else.
The First Contender… as he was reminded of who exactly they were pursuing, Dragan's heart nearly dropped out of his chest. He'd never been one to buy into the grand Supremacy narrative of glorious warriors and their prestige, but even so -- the Contenders were titans of the culture. They were nearly as synonymous with the concept of strength as the Supreme himself.
Could they… could they really pull this off?
A heavy hand landed on Dragan's shoulder, and he looked up to see Ruth standing behind him. Her face was hard, firm, eyes focused on the distant red light that had just come into view. Even as she spoke, she did not let that ship out of her sight.
"You said your plan would work," she said seriously. "So I believe you. Don't lose heart."
It was weird for her to tell him that, but Dragan nodded all the same. He swallowed, turning back to the flight console. Bruno bit his lip as he continued to maneuver through the stellar debris, the two of them leaning over his shoulders.
"Remember," Dragan said quietly. "This can only work if we get close enough. I need a hole in that ship. It doesn't matter how small it is. Just… just anything."
As Bruno concentrated on piloting, Serena spoke out of their mouth. "Mr. Dragan," she said cautiously. "A ship like that will have self-repair, you know. Even if we open up a hole, that doesn't mean it will stay open."
Dragan's grip tightened on the back of the chair. "How long will I have?"
"About five seconds -- and that's pretty generous, Mr. Dragan!"
Five seconds. In and out. He could do that. Dragan's fingers drummed against the back of the chair anxiously. He could do that, right?
"Give me as long as you can," he repeated.
Bruno nodded, and the Slipstream AE continued its approach.
----------------------------------------
Avaman put his mask back on, various augmented elements appearing around his vision as he did so. His blood pressure, his heartbeat, his rate of breathing… all the information his suit read on his physical condition, beamed right into his eyes. It read the signature of the approaching ship, too, displaying a rotating 3D model of the vessel right in the corner of his vision.
The Slipstream AE. Equipped with top-of-the-range Paradisas technology. It would be a formidable opponent, but Avaman had faith. He had overcome greater challenges than this.
He would eliminate them. He would eliminate them without fail and return his quarry to God.
"Hey, fair warning!" cried out Esmeralda from his holding slab.
Before he could speak any further, Avaman flicked a switch on the console, and a metal gag slapped itself over the prisoner's mouth. It would not do to listen to that man. His words were honeyed poison.
Avaman's eyes scanned the readings the console was giving him. This wasn't his personal starship: he'd selected this one for maximum speed. As such, its offensive capabilities were somewhat lacking. It was vexing to rely on a ship that was less powerful than he himself, but Avaman would use what he had.
This asteroid field was a prime location to engage the enemy, the massive rocks providing easy cover against their attacks. Rather than continue fleeing and risk engagement in a less fortuitous environment, he would eliminate them here. Perhaps seeing his crew blasted apart would put an end to Esmeralda's japes.
Let's see how you answer my greeting, first.
Targeting computer was locked on. Automated defenses were activated. He was ready to kill.
Avaman tapped a button -- and three missiles were launched from their bays, red streaks spluttering behind them as they zoomed across the darkness of space. Even a regrettable ship like this had enough firepower to blast their paltry vessel apart several times over. A grin curled beneath his mask -- oh… he couldn't wait to see the look on Esmeralda's face.
As expected, the Slipstream AE turned into a barrel roll as it attempted to avoid the barrage. The missiles missed by mere inches, flying past for a short time before reacquiring their target. Their thrusters stopped for a brief moment as the missiles reoriented themselves, blasting off once again to pursue the AE.
The first missile smashed into an asteroid the AE dived behind as cover, blowing it apart into chunks of rock. Avaman slid a hand over the part of the console that controlled the missiles, adjusting the programming of the remaining two. The second would trail behind the first somewhat, giving it enough time to counteract whatever means the AE used to dodge.
In this case, however, the AE did not exactly dodge.
With a daring maneuver that would have seriously damaged a less sturdy ship, the AE turned on a dime, letting loose a hail of punchpoint fire at the incoming projectiles. The first missile took the brunt of the counterattack, exploding prematurely -- but that only meant that it served as more effective cover for the second.
Avaman's grin widened as the last missile drew close to the starship's front window, far too close to be deflected.
It's over.
----------------------------------------
"Now!" Dragan cried.
The barrel of the musket pressed against his back. Even if it was part of his own plan, the sensation was disconcerting.
Ruth pulled the trigger, the cape of her Revolutionnaire Set billowing behind her -- and red Aether surged directly into Dragan's body, boosting his own power. The incoming missile came in closer, pinpoint bullets bouncing off the shell, and Dragan watched.
If this was to work, he had to wait until the very last second.
Closer…
Closer…
Closer…
The missile was inches away. The explosion would be enough to open up the front of the ship like a can opener. Dragan took a deep breath…
…and a miasma of blue Aether engulfed their surroundings.
Gemini Shotgun.
----------------------------------------
The missile vanished.
Avaman sat up in his seat, eyes wide in surprise and frustration. Right before the missile could strike the AE, it had disappeared in a haze of crackling blue Aether, like a thunderstorm. Recorded? If that was the case, then there must have been an extraordinarily powerful Aether-user on the other ship.
Or perhaps they had simply Aether burned? That would be preferable, as it would mean Avaman wouldn't have to worry about that ability again. Still… to think they'd been able to outmaneuver him. His arms tightened on the armrests.
Behind him, beneath the gag, Zachariah Esmeralda laughed a muffled laugh. It took all Avaman had not to decapitate him there and then.
There was no time for executions, at any rate. The AE swooped out of its hiding place between the asteroids, zooming towards Avaman's ship in pursuit. He flicked a switch, directing the autopilot to keep distance between him and his enemies to the best of its abilities. If the missiles weren't going to work, he needed to concoct a new method of attack.
He checked the radar again. There was an old mining station nearby -- decrepit and derelict, but perhaps sufficient to use as cover. He adjusted the autopilot once more, just slightly, to bring them over to that location over time.
In the meantime, his gaze returned to the AE, quickly growing larger in his vision. The pilot module of this ship was able to rotate, and so Avaman had no trouble looking straight-on at his enemies even as he retreated. He could see them in their cockpit even, silhouettes made vague by distance and glass.
They were using Aether to assist them in the dogfight, eh? Well, two could play at that game.
Avaman's own abilities worked by sculpting and manipulating the air around him. He could make blades to slice things up, form projectiles to fire at his foes, cause air bubbles to expand inside his enemies and detonate their bodies… any number of things.
To use that in this situation would be difficult -- after all, there was no air in space. This ship, however, had the ability to vent out contaminated air. He'd use that to get the air outside, where he could manipulate it for a surprise attack. Around ten percent would do it.
Avaman flicked a switch, and there was a brief woosh as the air was vented out. He kept hold of it with his Aether, feeling it as an extension of his own body as it invisibly clung to the outside of the vessel. He'd let the AE come into range, and then pelt it with a hail of Whirlwind Crossbows.
Even if it didn't destroy the ship entirely, it would do enough damage to leave it drifting and hopeless.
The AE weaved through stardust as it came closer and closer to Avaman, closer and closer, closer and closer… the mouse in the trap… so close they could almost touch! Their cockpits were inches from each other, those dark silhouettes almost discernible. They'd want to dock his vessel to retrieve Esmeralda, but they'd never get the opportunity.
The time had come!
Whirlwind --
----------------------------------------
It was coming.
Dragan squeezed Ruth's shoulder -- the signal they'd agreed on. She was kneeling on the floor in an unusual position, her hand planted against the floor of the ship. After they'd stopped the missile, they'd swapped places -- and now Dragan was the one holding the musket to her back. Even if she wasn't using the musket personally, it still held the ability she'd imbued it with.
She'd manifested her armour on objects before, but they'd always had to be roughly the same size as the Set itself. Stretching her armour out to cover anything bigger than that was outside her capacity. It was like trying to stretch your own arm across an entire room -- you just couldn't do it.
That is… you couldn't do it normally.
Ruth felt a jolt as Dragan fired the musket right into her back, and immediately shouted:
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Noblesse Set!"
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-- Crossbow!
Avaman had miscalculated. He understood that the second he launched his attack -- for, at that very same instant, the ship before him changed. A clear white surface, like marble, spread across the entire vessel, utterly encasing it.
He could manipulate his Crossbows to a degree after he fired them, but from this distance there was nothing he could do to avoid hitting the AE. They struck as one, shattering the strange white plating -- and then, still as one, they rebounded upon Avaman's own vessel.
The ship shook wildly. Alarms blared. There was the sound of cracking glass as the cockpit window was splintered -- and an automatic arm immediately began repairing it, so fast that not even air could leak out.
The AE passed above him, and Avaman swerved his own vessel to pursue. No doubt they thought they'd gotten one over on him. Well, they'd accomplished nothing. Any damage they'd done would be swiftly repaired, and the only thing they'd gained was his wrath. He'd --
A sound behind him. A foot landing on the floor.
Avaman whirled around in his seat, just in time to see a young man with silver hair wrench open Esmeralda's restraints, freeing him from the slab. It was the Cogitant from back on the ELIZA, the one he'd used to take out Esmeralda. What was he doing here?! Hadn't he learned his lesson the first time?!
Avaman thrust his hand forward furiously as Esmeralda collapsed forwards into the Cogitant's arms. Two phrases were screamed at once.
"Whirlwind Greatsword!"
"Gemini Shotgun!"
As a massive blade of wind smashed into the back of the ship, devastating it, there was a split second where Avaman's view was clear. In that moment, his heart dropping, he saw it. He saw a spark of blue, quickly writhing… and manifesting…
…the missile.
Needless to say, as the returned missile struck Avaman, the ship did not survive.
----------------------------------------
Ruth grinned breathlessly as she saw the explosion behind them, Avaman's vessel scattering into flaming debris that slammed into the surrounding rocks.
It had worked. Their insane fucking plan had worked. They'd taken down one of the Contenders.
It had been simple. Once they'd opened up a tiny gap on the outside of Avaman's ship, Dragan had been able to use Gemini World to get aboard -- and use the missile he'd recorded before to destroy it from the inside. At the same time, he and Skipper would have retreated back into Gemini World.
They'd be floating out in space as a cloud of Aether -- all Bruno had to do now was open up the exterior airlock as they were passing and let them flow back inside.
She patted Bruno on the shoulder. "Go get them!"
His hands were shaking with excitement as they danced across the controls, but his expression was as serious as ever. "It's not over yet. Don't celebrate."
Ruth looked down at him, the grin on her face almost painful. "We just blew that guy the fuck up, Bruno. You get that?"
Despite everything, the slightest smirk tugged at Bruno's lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." With a flick of the switch, they began their approach to the spot the ship had exploded. "Still, we need to get as close as possible to them."
Ruth nodded -- but before she could say anything, the two of them were struck by two sensations at once.
The first was an Aether ping, coursing with malice and murderous intent, flooding through the ship like poison gas.
The second was a projectile smashing into the ship. Ruth was sent sprawling down to the floor as the vessel shook, the rumble of the engine dying down into an eerie silence.
“Primary engine has sustained critical damage,” the auto-brain said smoothly. “Further operation is unsafe. Switching to first backup.”
The engine roared back to life, perhaps just a tad quieter, as Ruth climbed up Bruno's chair. His face was pale as he looked out the cockpit window.
"The hell was that?!" Ruth asked, rubbing her injured head.
Bruno didn't have to say anything. He just nodded forward. Ruth followed his gaze, and her jaw dropped.
There, floating in the void of space, was Avaman the Announcer, First Contender of the Supremacy. He was utterly unharmed, clad in that same mask and cloak without even a scratch. His cape was even writhing behind him, as if blown by a non-existent wind. It was like he was standing on nothing.
And he was pointing at them.
----------------------------------------
"Dragan Hadrien…" mused Avaman, floating freely. "Yes… that was your name, wasn't it? It slipped my mind, but I read it in the file."
The Whirlwind Javelin seemed to have done its work well, judging from the brief halt of the Slipstream AE. He must have disabled the primary engine as intended. Judging from the schematics of the AE, it would have now automatically switched to the first of two backup engines -- ergo, two more well-placed shots would disable the craft entirely.
"It was naive of you to believe exposing me to the void of space would kill me," Avaman said casually, glancing towards the location of Hadrien's Aether cloud -- the location his Aether ping had revealed to him. "I am a Contender, after all. Still… I have to admit, your little gambit with the missile did make me sweat for a second there. Well done. Through the combined efforts of three weaklings, you managed to induce a moment's anxiety."
He tracked the far-off ship with his finger as it took cover behind the asteroids. Distance wasn't an issue, but those rocks would be. Unlike the mid-range attack of Whirlwind Crossbow, Whirlwind Javelin could fly at a distance of about a kilometer, but it could only travel in a straight line. Wasting ammunition on cover would be unwise.
"I'm sure you're wondering how I'm surviving right now, in the void of space," he continued speaking, finger fixed on the AE's last visible position. "This isn't a spacesuit I'm wearing, if that was your theory. It's just that my ship was full of air before it was destroyed. It was nothing for me to seize hold of it and create a habitable bubble."
Yes… as things stood now, he was in no immediate danger of dying. The air he'd managed to collect would also serve as his ammunition. Technically speaking, he had enough air to produce about seven more Whirlwind Javelins, but realistically he'd be able to fire off only three. The remainder of the air would be needed to get himself to the mining station, after all.
Two hits would be required to disable the AE, and he had three Javelins at his disposal. That meant he had one shot to play around with. Avaman adjusted his aim, focusing on an asteroid just a little bit further away. Whirlwind Javelin could only travel in a straight line, but that didn't mean he couldn't get creative with it.
Whirlwind Javelin.
Avaman fired, the bubble of air around him shrinking slightly.
----------------------------------------
Smash.
Ruth looked up at the source of the sound, but it wasn't visible from the cockpit. Bruno, in the pilot's seat, focused instead on the readings of the console -- and went pale as he wrenched the lever that would get them moving again.
"What?" Ruth demanded, clinging to the back of the chair to prevent herself from flying off. "What is it?!"
Bruno was still too focused on flying, so Serena spoke out of his mouth. "Ricochet!" she exclaimed, panicked. "He blew up an asteroid -- and now the chunks are coming this way!"
The Slipstream AE weaved heroically through the incoming maelstrom, but there was only so much they could do. The ship shook as fragment after fragment struck the hull, red emergency lights blaring.
"Shit," muttered Bruno. "Shit, shit, shit!"
He twisted the ship into a roll in order to avoid a particularly large chunk of rock, and at that moment --
----------------------------------------
There.
For a split second, the ship was just barely visible between two asteroids. Avaman smiled.
Whirlwind Javelin.
----------------------------------------
-- the ship shook once again, more violently than before. Warning signs flicked on around the console as the ship was plunged into darkness. A second later, dim lights came back on, but the voice that echoed through the cockpit confirmed their worst fears.
"Back-up engine has sustained critical damage," the auto-brain said. "Further operation is unsafe. Switching to second back-up."
Bruno paled, angling the ship to use one of the asteroids as cover again. "One more shot and he's got us. Damnit."
Ruth's eyes flicked around the void of space, as if she'd see something there they could use to survive this ordeal. But there was nothing there… nothing but the dark.
If they lost here, it was all over. Dragan wouldn't be able to maintain his Gemini World forever -- either he and Skipper would reappear and die on the spot in space, or they'd disappear entirely. Avaman would be able to board this ship and kill them easily.
One more shot would kill them all.
Her grip tightened on the back of the chair. Hell no. She wasn't going out like that. If she was dying, she'd do it fighting, not sitting behind a rock waiting for the end!
Besides… there was something out there in space, wasn't there? Something that could help them. Something that would definitely be waiting for the perfect moment.
"Bruno," she said seriously. "I have a plan."
Bruno and Serena looked up at her. Their gloved hands were shaking on the console, driven by tension and anxiety. She knew the feeling.
As quickly as she could, she explained her plan.
"That's crazy…" Bruno muttered.
Ruth swallowed. "You got anything better?" she replied gruffly.
Bruno considered it for a moment -- and it became clear that he didn't. He threw himself over the controls, manhandling them as the Slipstream AE jerked back into life. They'd only have one shot at this. He'd have to give it everything he had.
"If I die!" he exclaimed. "I'm haunting the shit out of you!"
----------------------------------------
"Oh?"
Avaman raised an eyebrow behind his mask. How utterly unexpected.
The Slipstream AE had swerved out from behind its cover -- and was now charging directly at him, thrusters propelling it at full force. He couldn't help but chuckle. This was the best that Esmeralda's disciples could muster?
Doubtless there was a trick to it, but it was a desperate trick all the same. Did they seriously think he'd forgotten about that white shield? They intended for his Whirlwind Javelin to be reflected right back at him, but he had already seen through it.
From what he'd seen the first time, that strange armour took at least one second to fully manifest. Avaman would simply wait until the very last moment before firing, giving them no chance to block. From there, he could execute them at his leisure.
As the AE barrelled towards him, it let loose another hail of punchpoint fire, but to no avail -- it simply bounced off the air bubble around him, individual bullets floating off into the dark. Weak weapons like these, without so much as a spark of Aether, didn't even qualify as obstacles to him. Avaman simply continued to point straight at the incoming ship, waiting for that perfect moment.
Closer…
Closer…
Closer…
So close he could see the silhouettes through the cockpit window again, so close he could see the wear on the ships hull, so close he could see the open airlock on the side --
Wait. What?
Just as Avaman thought that, he felt a sensation. A sensation one never wants to feel while in the midst of battle. The sensation of cold, merciless metal pressing up against their temple.
In an instant, less time than it took to blink, Avaman's eyes flicked off to the side -- and he saw it, and he understood. The suicide charge of the Slipstream AE had been nothing but a distraction. He'd been so focused on them that he'd forgotten entirely about the Aether cloud he was guarding.
That brat could manifest things partially, as well.
The thing pressing against his head was the prosthetic index finger of Zachariah Esmeralda. His upper arm had appeared out of the cloud of Aether, blue sparks buzzing around the border between existence and absence. In that moment, Esmeralda's mouth did not exist in this world, but Avaman was still certain of the words he would be saying.
Heartbeat Shotgun.
Avaman brought all his air back for defense as the sound blast struck him -- he avoided serious damage to his skull as a result, but the impact was still enough to send him flying off, flipping over and over. He roared in fury as the arm disappeared again, and that fury only intensified as the Slipstream AE zoomed past. The Aether cloud surged into the open airlock as Avaman was forced to watch, drifting away, and the airlock slammed shut a moment later.
By the time Avaman had used the air around him to stop his flight, the ship was already gone.
----------------------------------------
Skipper dropped to the floor of the Slipstream AE, panting for breath. His metal arm was creaking and clicking -- presumably from the intense cold -- but that wasn't what Dragan's eyes were focused on. No, his eyes were focused on the other arm.
The one that wasn't there.
Right before Dragan had gotten them out of the ship with Gemini World, Avaman had launched an attack. Dragan had assumed they'd avoided that attack. It seemed… that wasn't the case.
Skipper's ‘good’ arm was little more than gristle and dangling bone, blood pouring copiously onto the floor of the ship. There was a heavy creak as Ruth opened the interior airlock, only for her to stop in her tracks one step into the room.
He must have still been touching the Neverwire when the attack hit. Dragan stared just like Ruth, dumbstruck for a moment, at the wound. Skipper gritted his teeth as he clutched the stump.
"Get something to stop the bleeding," he grunted, forcing himself to his feet. Before either of them could say anything, he continued: "But no Panacea. Never Panacea."
He staggered past the two of them on his way to the infirmary, pausing for just a moment to glance towards the cockpit. Serena was sitting there, her face just as pale as the rest as she looked over her shoulder at the bleeding Skipper.
"Elysian Fields," Skipper said forcefully. "Fast as you can. Don't stop for anything."