Hidros Station
The Brotherhood marines filed through the portal on the Crasher’s side and entered the station. The acrid haze left over from the earth-based acid round spells cast by the hatchling raiders had cleared enough that Akamori could take his helmet off without choking. He stood back as Sala continued to use light magic to heal the wound in his leg; the strain showing as beads of sweat formed on Sala’s temples. The primal’s teeth clenched and Akamori rested a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
“Hang in there, big guy.”
The primal grunted in reply. Sala was the most diminutive of them, but when he channeled his magic and went on the attack, he truly lived up to his race’s namesake. Akamori glanced up as the Brotherhood marines formed up. The senior nco’s filed through, and then Lt. Fennex finished the flow. Then the doorway deactivated. The swirling violet energy fading out. He was still awestruck at the idea that they could make portals for traversing great distances instantly. From his limited training and understanding, it limited teleportation spells in range based on the casters’ magical magnitude and the amount of pool invested.
Once Lt. Fennex assumed control of his marines and got a head count, Lt. Rayshe strode over and Akamori tensed. Rayshe had never been one to communicate well between ranks, never mind with the Brotherhood. Amara gave him a nervous look, too. It was one thing to snip and bite at each other on the ship, but this was a combat situation and they couldn’t afford infighting. Akamori spotted more than one uncertain look in the marines expressions. Some were even the ones who’d introduced him to the business end of their fists.
“You. Take your men and clear the rest of the station.” Rayshe ordered.
Akamori shook his head, stunned. He felt like someone had just tucked a brick into a glove and swung it across his face. He’d crossed the distance between himself and Rayshe in an instant before he even realized it. The fact it was greater than three meters didn’t sink in just yet.
“Sir, you can’t order them to do that? There’s still a shackler somewhere on the station, and that means there’ll be more undead.”
Rayshe turned to him with a contemptuous scowl. “And who are you to question my orders?”
Akamori ignored the question, pressing the point. “You know they’ll take losses. Why sacrifice an entire platoon before we even hit the surface of the world? Setting aside the tactical stupidity of the fact you’d just be feeding their numbers and further exhausting us.”
“It’s the cold, ruthless calculus of war, Private. They are expendable assets. And they are being spent.”
Akamori opened his mouth to speak again, but Amara put a hand on his shoulder. None of this made any sense. It was like they were actively trying to lose this war. The only one he saw doing anything collectively positive was Captain Morwen. Hell, even the sergeant for all his bluster and rough edges didn’t seem this murder hungry.
Lt. Fennex’s face went pale, devoid of all color. The men in formation behind him exchanged nervous glances between each other. The drop in mood was obvious to Akamori, so why was this clown so oblivious to his own poor decision-making skills? Akamori’s back went rigid. He felt like lightning had just shot through him.
“You can’t be serious. I refuse to accept the Captain would support this plan if she knew.”
Rayshe leaned close to Akamori, his hand slid towards the pistol on his thigh. Tracers of aether flowed down the grooves in the weapon at his touch. The warmth of Rayshe’s breath splashed against his cheek.
“I am in charge here. Placed here by the Captain. And you dare challenge my authority?”
“If you’re going to make such a stupid order? Then yes.”
Rayshe’s hand seized his pistol. Akamori opened his left hand and pumped a raw amount of air magic into it. He compressed the swirling air so much that the violent friction created a spark that grew. As Rayshe drew his weapon, a bolt of raw plasmic lightning grew. The energy danced and played between his fingers as though it were alive.
Rayshe aimed the weapon at Akamori in the same instant that he pointed his hand at Rayshe and loosed the bolt of lightning. The void bolt clipped the shoulder plate on Akamori’s spell armor as his bolt caught Rayshe square in the torso, throwing him across the room into the far wall. Rayshe landed in a smoking heap with a groan as he struggled to get to his feet, lifting the pistol back at Akamori.
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“I’ll have your head on my desk for this,” he growled.
Before Rayshe could do anything further, though, a bolt of pink energy crashed into his head, and Rayshe tumbled to the ground. Amara stood behind him with a stern expression, her single eye aimed down the sights of her pistol. Pink smoke rolling from the barrel. Silence fell upon everyone as the shock of the exchange gripped the marines and mages alike.
Akamori cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the silence. “Well,” he started. “At least your aim got better.”
That cracked Amara’s stern look as she gave him a nod and holstered the pistol, marching over next to him to look down at Rayshe’s sleeping form.
“I hit him with a deep sleep spell. Think of it like a magic induced coma. He’ll be out until we want him awakened.”
“He wasn’t kidding,” Sala said in a solemn tone. He’d paused his healing and the wound on his leg looked back, but it was slowly improving. “He’ll want you dead as soon as you wake him up.”
“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we have a mission to finish.”
Lt. Fennex scratched his head, “I uh. I won’t forget that. He’s going to want retribution, but all of us appreciate you stickin’ yer neck out for us like that. It’s rare the Federation recognizes the Brotherhood’s people like that. Hell, most of the time they use us just like he wanted to. Disposable troops.”
Akamori nodded with a frown. “We’re all in this fight together, and no one is any more important or special than the next. We’re all soldiers. It’s high time the Federation started acting like it.”
Fennex bit back a chuckle, “Goodness yer a spitfire.”
Akamori scoffed. “I’m just getting started.”
“Don’t suppose you’ve got any advice or ideas on how to handle this?”
Akamori glanced into the recesses of the station from their beach head position. He glanced back at Amara, recalling their stealth infiltration. “I might. Your men lack magical defenses or weapons, so setting up a perimeter and holding this position feels like the best use of you for now. Hold this position. We’ll go hunt down the shackler. They’ll probably send their minions in a push, but your weapons are just fine for taking down the undead.”
“Destroy the head and those things turn into meaty rag dolls,” Fennex said confidently.
“If you’re going after the shackler, they’ll have a totem or relic they are using to control the soul bound. If you destroy the totem, you break the binder’s hold over those it has shackled. Since most of them are already dead, it will mean a permanent death for them,” Sala said.
Good to know… “Alright,” Akamori turned to Amara, who’d been watching him expectantly. “Still got that other invisibility potion?”
She nodded, “I do.”
“Let’s go hunting then.”
The marines spread out, assuming covered positions, and set up a perimeter. Akamori wanted to wait, since losing the gate would mean losing their access to the ship. They had to protect their lifeline. As the marines barked orders and chanting affirmatives, Akamori took a moment to study the station’s map.
The arrivals and departures terminal was mostly a lot of corridors and airlocks. But the main area of the station was like an enclosed city in a glass and steel jar. The Necromancer would likely have the most access to places to hide and bodies to bind there. He charted a flight path that would see them patrol the districts in a manageable route.
“So what’s the plan?” Amara asked.
“We can reasonably expect the necromancer to be operating close to this area. So our patrol will allow us to search and scan it most effectively.”
“Ok, and what happens when we find it?”
“We kill them.”
“Think we even can?”
He scoffed, “Probably not no. But those marines would sell their lives to Rayshe for the Federation. We should be willing to risk our own necks, too.”
Amara nodded. “Fair enough. So two poorly trained privates are going to go attack a necromancer.”
“Could be worse.” He countered.
“What, like losing our home, worse?”
“Actually, yeah. We know more since then, and we have more magic too. We’re in the best position to do this. Rayshe was never going to do it. And Sala is too wounded to come along. Besides, he can help in a pinch here if needed.”
“I still can’t believe you were willing to challenge Rayshe like that.” Amara said. She glanced at Rayshe’s prone form. His chest rode and fest in sleep.
He sighed, pacing in a tight circle. The fight to ward off anxiety was becoming a losing battle.
“It wasn’t right. Throwing away lives didn’t feel right. If that’s the Federation does things, then they need to change.”
“I’m sure your father would agree.”
“Everything I’ve seen from this federation is telling a bleak story. And it’s no wonder. They lose personal like it’s their job to, and they struggle with supply and personnel. Trapped in a war for survival and no one wants to fight to die a useless death. I’m wondering if this is all worth it. I told the captain I was in, that I’d fight. But like this?” He shook his head, unsure.
“Your father taught you to follow your heart and fight for those who couldn’t. Maybe that’s what this federation needs right now. A reminder of why it was formed. I have to suspect that this wasn’t just some get rich quick scheme or an artificial glory machine for petulant nobles. Fight this war your way, and I’m sure the winds of change will fill our sails.”
Akamori groaned, hearing his father’s words parroted by Amara. “Okay. Okay. Just please stop quoting my old man.”
“Only if you promise to stop doubting yourself.”
“Fine. Deal.”
The marines finished establishing their perimeter, maximumly using the second floor. Lanes of overlapping fire and covered positions meant they could defend the position as long as they needed.