The Forge had remained silent for many epochs. No god had forged an artifact since the close of the previous Divine war. It had changed hands several times through history as various races discovered it, and used it for various means before ultimately abandoning it again. Few ever truly plumbed the depths of its capabilities. The Dwarves, however, were such example of people who not only understood its past, but its purpose.

Masters of alchemy, creation, and stone craft, the dwarves could take the Forge to new heights it hadn’t seen in thousands of years. This, of course, ebbed as their society crumbled under the crushing weight of expansion. Now all that remained of the Golden Empire were a few settlements held over across the sector. The Forge being one of the last.

Without a flow of materials, it forced the dwarves to turn their idle hands towards their second favorite hobby. Drinking. And so many centuries past, the dwarves used the Forge as a massive brewery, manufacturing the sector’s largest supply of magical beer and potions with which they would trade throughout the region. A commodity the Artificers of Aeryn were all too happy to sign contracts for trade with.

Forge branded beer now flowed from almost every world in the sector in almost as many brews. It was this notoriety that drew Morwen here initially. Seeing the value of the Forge as a third party potion supply depot she could trade with. The dwarves were a quirky lot. They valued bartering and treated deals with utmost zeal. She’d had some pretty lucky breaks here before and viewed this place and its people as her adoptive peoples. So it came as no surprise that with no one else left to turn to, she’d come here.

“Another beer for the lass with the long look?” Pack said while drying off a mug with a towel.

Pack was an old friend of Morwen’s on the Forge. One of her first, in fact. He’d been the first vendor she’d struck a deal with. Since then, he’d always been her first stop, and the crude brewist had become something of a reliable friend.

“Thanks, but I should really stop. There’s a war to be won, you know.”

“Aye. That there be. But I notice yer missin’ a crew. Short a’ that lad with the glasses an’ the wee mousey look about him, I don’t believe I been seein’ yer squad.”

Morwen shook her head. “They’ve taken off to fight a different battle. One I suspect was designed to take them out of play. But we can’t risk ignoring it. So here I am, which brings me to my point nicely. You’re right. I need a crew. And I need healers. My vessel has a corruption that needs cleansed.”

Pack finished the mug and set it back under the counter, then fished another one from the sink and repeated the process. “So how do ya plan to be fightin’ this war without an army? Ya can’t be a commander with no army ta command.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if its help yer lookin for, old Pack might be able to help. Word has it the Sauridius are eying up the Forge. And us dwarves aren’t interested in leaving one of our oldest homes.”

Morwen gave Pack a wry grin, “Are you suggesting a possible deal?”

Pack smirked at her as he continued to clean mugs. “Ah might be. Aye.”

She propped herself up on her elbows as Pack’s wife came out. “Alright, let’s here your terms.”

“Oh they won’t be nothin ya can’t accomadate. We’re just lookin for some help if we ever need it. Word that if the Forge is attacked, there’ll be someone here to defend her.”

“Done.” Morwen said with no hesitation.

“And yours?” Pack asked, as was part of the process of the deal.

“I need a crew. Mages with healing magic or experience with cleansing rituals. My ship is corrupted, and is proving difficult to cleanse, even for the elves.”

“Ahh. I see. The elves withdrew support and left ya high and dry, did they?”

“Quite so,” Morwen said as she spat in her hand and offered it. “I find your terms acceptable. What say you?”

“I say I find yers to be acceptable as well.” The dwarf spat in his large hand and the two shook, then emptied a pint each before clinking the glasses.

“I’m sorry we didn’t conduct our last deal so formally. Time wasn’t on my side,” Morwen said.

Pack waved it off like a bothersome gnat. “Eh. Their more like guidelines really. Truth be told, we just love to drink.”

Morwen chuckled. “How soon before your people can board?”

“Now.” Pack said, scribing a missive and sending it. The small flaming hammer split into dozens and dozens as it sought every recipient on the Forge. “Ya’ve always done right by us, Captain. It’s time we paid it forward.”

Morwen’s eyes threatened to moisten up, and she drew in a steady breath before nodding. “Thank you Pack.”

“Captain.” Arjun said, approaching Morwen’s side with a tablet in hand. “I think we should head to the cargo bay.”

Morwen glanced back at Pack, who gave her an appreciative nod. She dropped the credits to pay for her beer plus tip and followed Arjun out of the market towards the docks. It wasn’t too long ago she was leading Akamori here to barter for potions to keep their team alive long enough to have a chance at victory. Now the war was nearing, the conflict was nearing its close and her squad was away elsewhere.

Something about Pack’s words stuck with her even as she strode through the carved out corridors of the asteroid upon which the Forge lived. What was a commander without an army to command? Had she finally reached the point in her life that she’d fight alone? As if to answer her question, she found hundreds of dwarves with small packs ready to board the ship. Her army awaited.

#

Aside from his squad and Captain Fenix, the crew on the Crasher was pretty light. They hooked a bunch of maintenance and technician dock workers along so the poor guys could keep working while they dragged the aging battleship off to yet another potential suicide run. That meant the number of marines posted to the ship when he and his squad borrowed the ship only numbered in a few dozen. Barely enough to man a few weapons emplacements when they reached battle.

Akamori returned the pair of salutes the two solitary guards rendered him as he strode into the brig. Seated on the other side of a magic ward was Helios, leaning on his knees, dark raven hair draped over his face as he studied the toes of his boots. He stopped, folded his arms, and studied Helios silently.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Helios’ head tilted up just enough he could see through his hair to look at Akamori. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Akamori had caught it.

“The prodigal hero returns. Have you come to gloat?”

“No. I’ve come to make sure you honor your word.”

Helios leaned back, gesturing widely with his arms. “As if I have any room to break that word.”

“I held up my side of it. We ran the cleansing ritual on you and your sister. Some of the corruption ran too deep in you. You’d been exposed for too long if I had to guess. We saved most of her.”

Helios nodded, a sad expression on his face. “We are the last, her and I. The dark one spread to every corner of creation. We fled to the great ship hoping someone would come to reclaim it, and bring it against our enemies.”

“But none came?”

Helios shook his head. “Only the blood. It consumed all it touched until all that remained was the blood. It sucked all the magic and life from everything. There used to be an entire flight of us, but centuries turned into millennia. As time marched onwards, our numbers dwindled. Given to madness, before the Darkness seized control. The possessed then would attack us. It was a war of attrition we could never win. We only hoped that the prophecy would come true.”

“What prophecy is that?”

Helios looked, brushing his jet black hair free of his face and hooking his bangs behind his ears. Akamori got a full look at Helios’ eyes. Draconic like most he’d seen on Anazi Prime. The sclera were black with white irises and draconic pupils. The black was likely still the result of Helios’ void poisoning from the blood.

“That you would find us, and save us from the darkness.”

“Oh. No pressure then, huh?” Akamori joked softly.

“None indeed. So what suicidal scheme are you intending to suck me into?”

“Hey!” Akamori said, affronted. “That hurts. You don’t even know me for five minutes and already you assume I’d drag you into something like that.”

“So it’s not a hopeless mission?” Helios asked.

“Oh, it’s absolutely hopeless.”

“Then why so offended?”

“It’s the principle.”

“You’re pouting?” Helios asked incredulously.

“N-no. Anyway.” Akamori said, clearing his throat. “We’re going to go save some people from a bunch of dickhead necromancers. You’re coming along. Emphasis on the lack of question mark.”

Akamori punched the power button for the barrier ward. The runes dissolved, and the field dropped. Helios watched curiously. He held his hands out and Akamori removed the magic suppression binders and collar.

“Play nice, and I’ll make sure these stay off. Step out of line and they’ll go back on.”

“And if I feel like causing real trouble?”

“If by real you mean putting up a better fight? Try me. I’m always game for a good spar,” Akamori said with a smirk as he let his aura flare. It heated the air with an imperiousness that was normally absent of Akamori’s personality. Something deeper.

Helios took the warning heart and nodded. He stepped out and next to Akamori in a subordinate position. Akamori grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go get you acquainted with the rest of the team.”

The trip back to the CIC area was quiet, with Helios following silently, and Akamori content with the silence. He found it a nice respite from what would inevitably become a cacophonous and explosive experience to come. The initial reception went rather frigid the instant Helios entered the command center area.

“Helios. This is the squad.”

“The…squad? Then you haven’t formed your mercenary company yet? How far back have I traveled…” Helios wondered aloud.

“Eh…we’re still workshopping the name. But we have formed the company.”

“Will I be paid as well?”

“Provided you pull your weight. Of course.” Akamori said with a grin.

Helios nodded, leaning back against the projection table. The image of that assault shimmered like a mirage as the dark-haired dragon broke the plane of the image. In each hand shimmered void weapons.

“I trust you’ll find the weight I pull satisfactory.”

“Hold, we get paid?” Yasiin asked, glancing up from wiping down his spell rifle.

“Sure. Just as soon as we actually do a job.” Akamori said with a shrug.

Yasiin and Sala exchanged glances with each other and nodded. Fair compensation for Federation troops was all but a joke, since the Federation didn’t technically fund them. It relied on the noble houses on Eryn to back ships and troops. Being a cooperative alliance, each faction would contribute. The Brotherhood lent manpower, and Eryn sent their magical know how, and resources. The idea of being paid well appealed to the squad.

“So we save this planet, and we make bank?” Sirsir asked, his own curiosity now piqued.

“I have it on good authority that the Brotherhood will practically give us an open credit line for anything and everything we need.”

“What’s a credit line?” Sala asked.

Akamori shrugged. “The implication was that we wouldn’t have to worry about finances.”

“Means we can focus on sticking it to the bad guys,” Sirsir said with a sage nod.

Helios continued to brood, but even the dour dragon seemed open to the idea of striking back and being well compensated for it.

“There’s just one problem.” Helios said.

“What’s that?”

“I want to talk about what happens to my sister.”

All eyes shifted to Akamori, even Captain Fenix, who’d just been observing. He wasn’t officially part of Akamori’s team and was largely here as the custodial commander of the ship. Akamori took a deep breath and nodded. He had to admire the stones on Helios for dropping this on him in front of the whole squad.

“Alright, let’s talk.”

‎