My only concern was to get in and out before my anti-magic helmet lost its lock on the fleet. It had impressive range, but in deep space that would get eaten up fast. The ships were already tiny in the distance.
The airlock opened when I forced it just right, shoving carefully to avoid bending the metal or breaking its internal mechanisms. I was particularly careful not to damage the seal as I worked. Once I was inside, I used the internal controls to cycle the lock and let myself on board the damaged ship.
I kept my armor deployed, just in case, and stalked in, carefully heading toward the ship’s bridge. Once aboard, artificial gravity helped stabilize the sensation, so the violent spin didn’t create problems for the crew. For a ship with no armor, it was surprisingly sturdy thanks to its advanced technology.
At the junction that housed crew quarters I encountered the first delf. He wore intricately carved armor and swung a glowing mono-wire dagger at my midsection with a high-pitched scream. I caught his wrist as the blade sliced off a chunk of my armor. The suit deployed a dimensional gateway and replaced it immediately, and I crushed the delf’s hand.
He screamed again and the knife clattered to the deck, its wire going dark as soon as the power button was released.
“Who are you?” I asked, my helmet amplifying my voice.
The delf used his free hand to pull his helmet off and drop it. He bit down hard, then exhaled with a harsh laugh. “One of the blessed dead,” he snarled, before foam started to build in his mouth and he slumped.
As I watched the delf collapse, a BuyMort ad popped into my mind, sweeping over me.
"No Escape? No Problem."
Eclipse Exit Solutions - The Ultimate Last Resort
The image of a sleek, black capsule appeared in my thoughts, its surface glistening ominously in the dim light. A calm, authoritative voice narrated the benefits.
"When capture is not an option, choose Eclipse Exit Solutions. Our fast-acting suicide pills guarantee a painless, immediate end, ensuring that no secrets are ever compromised. Discreet, effective, and untraceable—because sometimes, the only way out is through. Available in bulk orders starting at 20,000 Morties per unit."
A tagline followed, simple and stark:
"In darkness, find your release."
“Well, at least their suicide pills are quick,” I muttered, continuing forward on the ship.
My path to the bridge was not obstructed further, and I found a small graveyard had already taken up root. The crew were all dead except for the captain, who sat in his chair with his back to the door, watching the now-dark main screen. All that could be seen, even with the spin, was empty space.
“In darkness we are born,” the captain recited as I entered. “And to darkness we must all return.”
“Poetic. We say dust on Nu-Earth,” I told him.
“You humans love your dirt,” he replied.
I nodded and stalked in a semi-circle around him. “I’ve noticed that myself. You feel like telling me what this attack was all about?” I asked. “I’m a friendly guy if you let me be.”
The captain narrowed his glowing eyes and shook his head lightly. “I only wanted to see the monster we hunt with my own eyes.”
“You did just try to kill me, did you not? What changed your mind now that I’m in front of you?” I asked.
“Our mission was not to kill,” he hissed. “Only to punish.”
“Who equipped your ships? Where are your military assets located? Where are you from?” I asked.
The delf captain smiled and gave a small chuckle. “Darkness,” he replied, before biting down on his own poison capsule and expiring in front of me.
I scowled and checked my helmet’s mapping ability. The fleet was still in range, so I performed a cursory search of the bridge. All of the consoles required DNA matching to access, and there was no physical evidence to find aside from a single long cloth draped from the roof.
It showed a deep, burning purple light surrounding the silhouette of a human male. I had to assume I was the figure.
I blasted out of the ship with a flash of my breaker gauntlets and turned back to look at the badly damaged craft. “I’d like to sell that, BuyMort,” I said. Then I turned to look for my fleet. I’d gotten far enough away that they were dim specks in my enhanced vision, but they stood out against the empty backdrop, so I pushed the suit and flew toward them.
Even with my powers, space was frighteningly dangerous. Something Omen had known and used to his advantage. I was lucky I’d woken up from that at all, I could have easily spun through Sleem forever without encountering anything to charge the suit.
I shook off the thoughts as I reboarded Justin Lee’s ship. He and his crew were drifting in plain view between my two ships, with the airlock open and projecting a bright beam of light for me. One of Justin’s crew members was waiting and escorted me up to the bridge.
“Well fought!” my host said as I entered. There were several monitors focused on different things, which I took in at a glance. One was focused on the Navigator, one on the Pykrete, and one on each brutalized stealth ship. The second ship, that Justin and his crew had engaged, spiraled slowly while glittering bits of debris formed a series of rings around it.
“Thank you, Justin. You saved my crew, and my girlfriend at the same time,” I told him.
“Ohhh, that sounds lovely, I’m so glad you have someone. I must admit though, I am surprised with the speed you’ve moved on from Molls. Not to offend, or bring up painful memories, but it hasn’t been that long from your perspective,” the well-dressed delf replied.
I nodded. “It hasn’t, and that bothers me every day. But she’s dead, and these new relationships help me to reach my goals.”
Justin nodded back, then offered me a chair. On one of the screens, a rainbow flash indicated the BuyMort pod had arrived. My personal account spun up a few million morties, and I was accosted by a BuyMort notification to invest in an affiliate account for future sales.
TIRED OF LOSS? SICK OF NOT KNOWING WHAT PRICES YOU ARE SELLING FOR? WHY NOT BECOME A BUYMORT AFFILIATE? AS ALL SMART SHOPPERS KNOW, BUYMORT AFFILIATES KEEP MORE OF THE VALUE FROM EACH SALES TRANSACTION, AND THE MONTHLY SUBSCRIPTION FEE IS NOTHING COMPARED TO THE FINANCIAL WINDFALL A SMART SHOPPER CAN ATTAIN. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? SIGN UP TO BE AN AFFILIATE TODAY!
The ad threw me back to a time so long ago. Back when I was struggling not to just understand the Shopocalypse, but also myself. I shook my head, trying to stay in the present.
“This ship is refusing to sell,” Justin informed me. “You know what that means, I assume?”
“It means the structure is being used by another customer,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “Would you like to board them and question the survivors?”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “Is there any reason to?” I asked.
Justin shook his head, his tall ears swaying in my peripheral vision. “None. They are assuredly cultists and will take their own lives before telling you anything of value.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Then why bother?” I sighed.
Justin gave a single, sharp nod, and his ship opened fire again. This time, its guns aimed directly at the bridge on the other ship, and I saw atmosphere vent into space with the shots. He waited for the compartment to vent completely, then raised a hand to the console as if offering me the wreck.
“Thank you, Justin. I could use the morties,” I told him, before pointing at the shipwreck on the screen. “BuyMort, I’d like to sell that.”
The delf at my side smiled gently and gestured to a nearby chair. He gave me the captain’s chair and then swirled his robes out of the way while he sat down in the nearby pilots chair. Once he had it rotated back to face my own seat he sat back and crossed his legs.
“I assume you have questions,” he said, meeting my eyes.
“Yeah, I sure do. Too many, really,” I replied. “Let’s start with Midnight. Tell me how your world has changed, Justin.”
My delf friend smiled and raised a hand with two fingers extended. “Wine, please,” he said gently to the crew member that approached. “Midnight, now that is a subject near and dear to my heart.”
I smiled shortly. “I’m grateful for that, enough of BuyMort has become a worsening hellscape since my time. I’m glad to hear at least one world is better off.”
Justin shook his head emphatically. He sat back and adjusted his robe. “No, no I don’t agree at all. On many worlds, yes, of course things have gotten worse. There is great prosperity as well, it is merely concentrated into only a few hands.”
I scowled. “That would be the primary issue, from my perspective.”
The wine arrived then, and two broad-based glasses were filled for us. The bottle was emptied by the pour.
“Oh of course, this breeds suffering and poverty. No one in The House of None’s leadership council will ever deny that. Our society on Midnight is very different from the average planet, we profit-share with each delf that lives under our protectorate.” Justin took a small sip of his wine, not bothering to smell it first. “Ah, not bad.”
“What has Midnight turned into?” I asked, warily eyeing my own glass.
“Oh what it always was,” he replied with a wry smile. “Simply better managed.”
I sniffed my wine, then raised it to my lips for a swallow. It was good, down to the molecular level. My enhanced senses enjoyed the experience immensely, while my altered cognition filed through possible scenarios based on my friend’s vague statements.
“Midnight has produced BuyMort’s lithium supply for centuries. Most other worlds don’t even have infrastructure around mining it because of Midnight’s stranglehold on supply,” I started. “But that was handled by the great houses before and kept insular. Nobody benefited from the wealth this mining produced except the heads of the great houses,” I started. “So if you’re controlling all of that now, and profit-sharing among your population . . .”
Justin nodded with a wide smile. “Yes I knew you would understand. All delves are wealthy, compared to most labor-intensive industries or planets. Our miners live in mansions alongside our political leaders. We also provide the vast majority of the BuyMort system’s deuterium and tin. Not as flashy as the lithium, we know, but they bring in nearly thirty-percent of our overall profits each year.”
“Without Midnight, there would be no space-travel in BuyMort,” I said, my brow furrowed in thought. “That’s how you’ve stayed out from under Axle’s thumb.”
“It is indeed my friend. You really left us with scum in charge, that is one thing I’ll fault you for. But he’s easily manipulated when you have something he needs, so I suppose that at least balances the equation for some of us. Your actions against the delf great houses saved my world, and my people. What came next, I cannot fault you for, but we made things . . . alright for ourselves,” Justin replied. He took another large swallow from his wine glass and smacked his lips in appreciation.
I chuckled, then gasped in realization. “Cheeze on Pasta, that also explains how this cult was able to field those ships.”
“Ah,” Justin said, nodding slowly. “Yes, that. An unfortunate side effect of our shared prosperity on Midnight is that the Cult of Eternal Darkness has plenty of morties to operate with. And your return has truly stirred them up.”
“You can’t cut off their funding?” I asked.
“I can now, if you have proof of their aggressive acts against a Silken Sands associated affiliate,” he replied. “But before today all that I could do was watch and form my own response to their actions.”
I summoned my anti-magic helmet and pulled up the combat footage. With a swipe of my hand I transferred the file to Justin’s device. He had produced it immediately upon seeing my helmet deploy.
“Thank you,” he said. “I have a financial plan of attack ready to go, all I needed was physical evidence to put it into action. I need to warn you though, this will not stop them from using what they have stockpiled, and I fear they have stored much in preparation of this day.”
I took a large drink from my wine glass and sat back with a sigh. “What can you tell me?”
“Oh I have an intelligence package you should be receiving soon, it goes over the Cult in great detail. What I can tell you is only what I have watched grow in your absence,” Justin said. “In the first days following your death there was a considerable amount of celebrating among the remnants of the great delf houses. Delf leadership had been at the head of the Church, and your actions left their network in a state of terrible disrepair. Those who remained were unable to do much with their remnant power. Many of them ran out of morties trying to vie with one another for a leadership role.”
He took a break to drink more wine, this time sniffing the glass before taking a mouthful. “In fact,” Justin said, taking another hurried sip before putting his wine glass down. “Those who survived followed in the financial footsteps of the emerging House of None. We kept our focus on income and member well-being in equal parts. In essence, we kept our people fed and in homes, while the rest of the multiverse did not guarantee such luxuries. The expansion of equipment and supplies our house had gained access to dramatically increased the income from our lithium mines. We had been held back by our leaders' greed and neglect for too long, and our own desires took over once freed. Midnight quickly became one of the wealthiest planets in BuyMort.”
I nodded and twirled a hand for him to continue.
“Hatred for you was ever-present in the members of the other houses, but in the House of None we kept out of system politics and sold a great deal of precious ores and fuel. Eventually the other houses were absorbed into the affiliate, under the condition they were not required to fold into the House of None in anything but BuyMort associate status,” Justin told me.
“But the cult itself?” I asked.
“Ah, yes! The cult rose as a result of this situation. With the profit-share in place, and your enemies benefiting from it, the former wealthy elites were once again free of financial ruin and able to pursue their own interests and desires. They began meeting and communicating with each other more and more as time went on and their personal issues were forgotten,” he explained. “Within about ten years of your disappearance, the Cult of Eternal Darkness rose as a cultural call-back to the great houses’ time of dominance and financial success. A sort of club for those who took their family’s downfalls personally. And they used your clever lie about the cult within the Church. Where you had used it as public cover for the beginnings of your war, this cult has become very real by basing themselves on your concept. They rally around a singular figure, who our sources have never been able to identify, and blame you for all of the troubles in the multiverse.”
I sighed. “Alright. How many of them are there?”
Justin shook his head. “Uncertain. Our intelligence is not as in depth as I would like, but espionage is not a major part of delf culture any longer. We know they have more ships, and that there are at least one thousand individual members of the cult itself. Beyond that,” he said with a shrug. “We simply do not know.”
“How many more ships?” I asked.
“At least a dozen. Possibly as many as fifteen,” he replied. “Not all of their craft are simple stealth ships either. I know of a battleship that would give you trouble, if it were to visit your work here.”
I nodded. “We’ll be moving on to another search zone if this one doesn’t work out, and they’ll have no way of tracking us without our map and route. “I’ll tell my affiliate CEO and she’ll send along orders to protect the information. This expedition will be safe within days, tucked away in the void between galaxies.”
“That’s good, but we will stay as escort until your mission here is complete. I was unfortunately instrumental in the funding of this cult, I feel responsible for your safety,” Justin said.
I shook my head. “I hardly blame you, Justin Lee. Your civilization is one of very few that give me hope in this wreck of a system. You can’t be expected to control what anyone spends their morties on. But I am grateful for your help, old friend.”
He smiled again and reached for his wine glass. “I’m glad to provide it. The last time we met, our situations were more than reversed. You saved me, my people, and at least one of my planets.”
“I remember, but from my perspective you saved yourself. All I did was provide the tools,” I said. “But I have to go. My crew is probably terrified, they need an explanation.”
“Would you return for a meal, perhaps?” Justin said, standing up with a swirl of his robes. “I would enjoy talking with you further, and possibly exploring how we can be of assistance to one another in the coming days.”
I raised an eyebrow, then lifted my wine glass to finish it. “That sounds like you have something specific in mind,” I said.
He smiled and raised his own, much less full glass. “Indeed! A mutually beneficial arrangement can be made and I would be remiss if I failed to lay it out before one of the greatest minds BuyMort has ever seen.”
Justin raised his glass as if toasting me. After a long moment in thought, I raised my own to his and clinked it. “Dinner, tomorrow?” I asked.
“Of course! I’ll be honored to host you,” Justin said. He took a sip of his remaining wine to punctuate his statement.
I slowly and carefully drained my own glass. Gulp after gulp, I drank the wine and stared at Justin’s glowing eyes. He scowled but smiled and even chuckled before I finished.
“Thanks,” I said, before handing him my empty glass. “Good wine.”
“We’ll open two more tomorrow,” Justin quipped, smiling nervously as he accepted my glass.
I nodded and floated up to the roof of the bridge, before aligning my body with the pod airlock and exiting through its automatic doors. My armor deployed once I was through, wrapping around and concealing my clothing through moving dimensional gateways. The advanced version was much better than its base level, which tore through my clothing when deployed.
With a short flight, I was back on board the Pykrete, and facing an angry mob of employees.