Bahumet 0
Lieutenant Akamori Shinjo, Spell Warrior, Reaper, and hero of both Hidros and Eryn, ran into the hangar with his spell blade drawn. He was still weary of running in Thalara’s loose brother. The roar he’d heard still made his skin crawl, thinking of it. The longer he could put that encounter off? The better.
Rounding a corner in the hangar bay, he found a series of spell mechs standing in stalls. All the stories his father used to tell him about the riders who flew and fought with the dragons in epic space battles came to mind. He wished his father could be here. He traced a finger affectionately along the hull of the mechs leg. An impact rocked the deck and shook him free of his distraction.
“Right. Bad guys. Asses to kick.”
He summoned some air magic and felt himself glide up gracefully into the air before the mech’s hatch and pressed the rune to open it. It turned pinkish translucent, like his old spell armor used to. He grinned at the welcome sight. “Well, I was just feeling like I missed my armor.”
He feathered his thrust and drifted through the entrance screen and settled down into the pilot’s chair with a gust of air. He set Thanaton down next to the command chair, feeling a little naked without armor. Assuming the process worked just like spell ships, he reached out and grabbed the control sticks. He was partially right. There was a bond established. But it was a two-way bond.
Just as he’d merged himself to the mech, the mech had merged itself to him. Each imparting aspect the other lacked. The mech gave him size and mass. He gave the mech power and focus. The large spell rifle stowed on its back melted into the metal flesh of the spell mech. The head rippled and transformed, sprouting a series of metallic horns and fangs as its mouth extended outwards. The legs bent backwards, and the hands grew metallic talons. A pair of binders emerged from its back and a tail that ended in a barrel. When all was said and done, the Hoplite Mech no longer registered itself as a Hoplite Spell mech, but as Bahumet 0.
The mechanical dragon roared, and Akamori felt something cold and amused stir deep within his soul. A sense of pleasure rumbled up, and the deep buried presence of the elder soul hinted its approval.
“What…just happened?” Akamori asked.
You have asserted your will and your soul upon the mech. It has taken your form. Such as it can. Though it is imperfect. Unfinished. Just as you are.
“oh. Thanks. I think?”
As you grow, so too will it.
“Alright then. Let’s go kick some scaley ass.”
The black and purple draconic spell mech lumbered forward. As it spilled through the vibrant blue energy curtain that held back the atmosphere of the hangar bay and into the void, Bahumet 0 banked gracefully and deployed it’s void wings. He soared after one of the missile cruisers just as it unloaded an entire volume of Brotherhood stolen warheads. A seething cold anger boiled deep within Akamori.
Just like Sauridius to use the weapons of his dead enemies against their survivors, the Elder dragon’s soul resonated deep within him. Frank and Thanaton both remained quiet. When the dread wyrm spoke, no one else did.
Bahumet 0 pulled up short, wings flaring open wide, and magic pooled within its mechanical maw. Motes of void and fire spiraled around together and tighter. Successive bands of runes formed like focusing rings. Dead ahead of him, the ship and its munitions bore down on him. The beam erupted forward. Blossoms of fire marked the destruction of the missiles as his beam smashed into the feeble ward of the missile ship. A small flash of light was the only sign it had washed the vessel from creation in a storm of voidfire.
A storm of smaller acid bolts belted his metallic skin, causing him to flare his wings wide for stability in the void. A cruiser was adjusting to bare down on him. Apparently choosing the more appealing smaller target between himself and the legendary spell ship. Bahumet 0 gnashed its jaw as it banked and approached the foreboding cruiser of unknown make.
As Akamori closed the gap, it occurred to him that no one really knew much about Sauridius culture. Who made their ships? Where did their people come from? His mind flashed back to the feeling he got as he electrocuted the hatchling warrior from within. The small atrophied soul thanking him for release.
The black and purple dragon dipped and climbed as it swerved between spell beams. More than once it blocked an attack with a wing, just as a dragon naturally would. Akamori’s heart raced with anticipation the closer he got to his prey. Before he could pounce, though, an adult wyrm slammed into him, tackling him out of the way. The pair spun off in a tangle of wings, tails, snapping jaws and slashing talons.
Morwen leaned forward and slammed a fist in frustration down on the console next to her controls. Sirsir relayed the situation with the adult dragon attacking Akamori’s flank and taking him out of play. Sala relayed Ward Strength levels. A tense edge to his voice. She knew that ship battles weren’t quite his arena, so to speak.
“Adjust attack angle. Focus on the Cruiser, Akamori was about to engage. Let’s not let them think they got off the hook easy.” Morwen ordered. “Spell use is at your discretion, Sgt.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Sirsir said with a grin.
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An instant later, a roiling rod of molten lava punched out of the massive spell cannon’s maw. It slammed into the cruiser’s wards, which distended inwards, discoloring from the strain. Though the wards held, the attack shoved the cruiser out of formation and way off course. Morwen grimly smiled at the large, angrily glowing red circle in the cruiser’s hull from where the proximity of the attack superheated the hull.
She directed the perimeter defense arrays to fire full spreads into the missile storm as the smaller ships were hurling their way. She silently whispered a thankful prayer to any gods, listening that the Sauridius hadn’t stolen magical nukes from the brotherhood. In ways, her magically celibate brothers in arms had given them a slight edge in crippling her enemies, who suffered from the unfortunate drawback of recycling personnel and weapons from their spoils.
The main cannon primed with immense magic, preparing to blast the Cruiser again when the enemy battleship responding, blasting an ethereal white beam of soul energy that smashed into Theferis’ wards pressing them inwards so much Morwen clenched the controls tightly until she realized the ship had no other crew on it except those gathered on the bridge.
“Lock down the compromised sections. Keep those wraiths out.” Morwen ordered.
Sala gave a responsive nod, activating a series of light wards throughout the ship, keeping the wayward souls trapped. “Compromised areas quarantined with perimeter fields.”
“Good Work. Bring us about. Target that battleship and hit them with a disintegrate.”
The long-barrel shaped spell ship adjusted its angle to face down the battleship. Morwen had never faced a Sauridius battleship before. Seeing one in the system drove home just how much they thought of stopping her here and now was. She rose from her chair. “Fire.”
Fire and void splashed together in the main cannon’s maw violently like matter and anti-matter coming into contact with each other. Runes along the inside of the cannon’s barrel shaped the magic and fed the spell with its instructions. A moment later, a violent maelstrom of negative energy lanced out of the canons muzzle and bore down on the battleships wards. The disintegration spell drilled through complex layers of protection like a katana blade cleaving rice paper. Matter boiled away, reduced to single particles by the beam. In the attack’s wake, a perfectly round hole remained, cleanly marking the spells passage through the hull of the ship.
The battleship responded by hurling several level 6 soul beams back. Powerful battleship level spells backed by proficient and powerful mages. The pallid green beans slammed into the Theferis’ wards, punching holes in three points clean through the ship. Each salvo deposited more angry wraiths behind to wreak havoc and thwart enemy efforts. It was akin to poisoning the ship or giving it a virus.
Morwen both cursed the attack and was silently thankful the ship was running in only a skeleton crew at the moment. That would minimize casualties to the wraiths, since there were none to be had. The wards on the bulkhead leading to the bridge would hold any that found their way here off until they could purge the ship. That left her free to focus completely on the battle at hand.
She glared at the main screen as the Battleship fell back while charging all three spell cannons. She needed to take that ship down, and fast. She had the equipment, but most of her mages were teetering on the edge of depleted from the day’s battles. She needed a low cost magical solution. She leaned back, tapping her lips with a finger in thought.
“Rozien. I need a solution. An abstract one. Low magical cost.”
The enchanted tome flew to hover next to her. “A solution to what?”
She jabbed an index finger at the ship before her on the main screen. “That.”
The book tilted to scrutinize the ship thoughtfully. “In the previous war, a god would have wielded the ship like a massive staff. Unfortunately, we lack a war god to hold the ship.”
Morwen chewed at her lip thoughtfully. “No.” she said slowly. “But perhaps we don’t need one.” She turned to Sirsir, “Back us off. String together a series of short range teleport jumps, but keep us aimed at the battleship.”
“Ma’am?” The big burly NCO gave her a confused look, but followed her orders. The ship dulled the stomach churning sensation of teleportation.
After enough jumps to build distance, she held up a hand. “That’s good enough, thank you, Sgt.” Morwen noticed the uncertain looks from the rest of her people, but she couldn’t give them reassurance for that right now. She had to focus and get this right. Low cost, and simple. It sounded easy in principle, but here’s where her pedigree as a weaver and a mage earned its pay.
She studied the battleship ahead of them. It was using soul wards. That meant for best results she should use void or light because those were the aspects soul was weakest against. She was equally strong in both, but her pool was limited and wasn’t certain how best to proceed. Morwen decided.
“I need everyone with light magic to pour as much as you can into the spell drive. Maximum thrust. Everyone with void? Lend me your pool.”
The ship thrummed as they dumped magic into both its engines and the cannon. A volcano of raw plasma erupted from the rear of the long cylindrical frame of the Theferis. The intense thrust throttled everyone into their harnesses until gravity normalized. Morwen focused on the front of the ship.
As the long rod-shaped ship raced forward after the battleship, the void magic spilled out in front of the Theferis. Instead of lancing out in a simple beam or bolt spell, it instead created a long spear tip of void energy.
“I see now,” Rozien said, still floating next to Morwen.
“If Theferis is like a spell stave, then why can it not also mimic a thrown spear?” Morwen said. “As if thrown by a god.” She added softly under the dull roar of the ship’s engines. The ancient spell ship hurtled forward like a loosed arrow, slamming into the battleships wards like magical chain mail. The wards resisted, losing color and gaining vibrancy as the Sauridius ship’s mages poured more AP into their protection, desperate to fend off assault. All the battleships’ weapons fired, but the void devoured the soul beams.
“More thrust!” Morwen growled and rode the controls forward hard as her crew grunted from the strain of the ship, literally tearing the magic free of her crew to power the demand.