Jace wasn’t expecting the elevator to be as fast as it was. Seconds after they had stepped into it, it shot downward. Another second later, it arrived. The doors hissed apart, revealing the hangar floor beyond.
“Now’s not the time for caution,” Jace whispered. “Stick together. Stick close.”
They dashed out onto the hangar floor. Lessa blasted a soldier and Jace cut a kobold in half. Kinfild launched a bar of flame into the eyes of a pair of soldiers.
All around, the silver-armoured soldiers began taking aim. They raised their rifles and fired a volley. Jace and Lessa ducked behind a stack of crates, and Jace pulled Kinfild down with them. A crate leaked smoke black smoke. Every breath he took felt like it scoured the inside of his ribcage, and he coughed.
Jace used a hyperdash to phase through the crates, then he emerged in the middle of the nearest cluster of soldiers and kobolds. He swung and slashed. A cavalryman charged with an Aes-shielded saber, but after a few slashes, Jace cut the man down. A volley of plasmafire raced towards him, but he ducked behind a gutted starfighter thruster.
As the soldiers paused to pull their bolts back, he charged, deflecting and swiping. He, Kinfild, and Lessa focussed on the prisoners—those likely about to be executed.
They freed the prisoners, and without command, most joined the fray. They picked up rifles and sabers and joined in the fighting. Some sealed the hangar’s inner doors, stopping enemy reinforcements from entering, and others grouped up to defend the entrances if needed.
Flight crews and pilots hopped to their feet. Some peeled weapons from the dead soldiers, and others turned to their starships. A few shouted orders, but they were too distant, and their voices distorted into echoes in the hall.
When all the Koedor-Terginian soldiers had fallen or surrendered, Kinfild said, “The sergeant said that the thegn would be down here.”
“Why do you need him?” Lessa asked. “We need to get these ships in the air, now, right?”
“And the thegn can help us do that.” Kinfild pressed his staff against the ground. “His pilots will listen to him sooner than they’ll—”
“There,” Jace said, cutting the Wielder off. He pointed to the corvette’s boarding ramp. A group of pilots in leather jackets ran up it, followed by a small crew of sailors and an entourage of palace guards. If the thegn was anywhere, it was there. Jace ran off without waiting for Kinfild or Lessa. Ducking around landing struts and jumping over cargo crates, he approached the ramp.
Before the guards could ascend all the way up the ramp, Jace leapt up in front of them. They halted and pointed their rifles at him. He heard them flick the safety switches off, and the weapons whirred as they powered on.
“Wait!” Jace hissed, raising his hands.
Before the soldiers could fire, Kinfild called, “Thegn Yrse! I return with more counsel!”
Someone murmured a command. The guards raised their rifles and stepped apart. The thegn, a head shorter than the rest, stepped out from their mix.
Kinfild and Lessa climbed up onto the boarding ramp beside Jace, and the thegn approached. He nodded to Kinfild and said, “Kinfild! Regretfully, you were correct. We did our best, but the system has fallen.”
Kinfild dipped his head, then said, “We are here to help.”
“Help?” the thegn asked. “Celacor is overrun. We are defeated. Allow me to pass, if you will.”
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The guards took a step. Jace, Kinfild, and Lessa had to walk backwards to stay in front of them. On the third step, Jace narrowed his eyes and asked, “You aren’t fleeing, are you?”
“Contrary,” said the thegn. “If my system should fall, then I would rather meet my end head on, as would the knights of ages past—in a glorious battle. We shall still perish honourably.”
Jace stopped yielding ground and crossed his arms. “You could save your people, if you would just listen to Kinfild.”
The thegn held up a hand, and the guards halted. “What is your proposal, Wielder?”
“I need a starship and a stoker kyborg,” Kinfild began. “Lady Fairynor, daughter of the First Attendant, has prepared a fleet, and just needs to be alerted to the attack before she can move. In an hour, at the latest, we will have a force capable of repelling the kobolds and the Koedor-Terginian fleet.”
“An hour?” the thagn exclaimed. “Our defenses won’t last half that long.”
“We have a plan for that, too,” Jace interjected. “We’re going to take out the queen-core. It’s aboard a single battleship near the edge of the battle. If we can destroy it—”
“Destroy a battleship with just a squadron of starfighters?” the thegn exclaimed. “We wouldn’t break its shields.”
“Hit the solar sail spars,” Kinfild said. “They will rip, and the chain-reaction will tear down the rest of the vessel’s shields and torpedo nets.” Then he nudged Jace. “This is a worldjumper, and he has a way to destroy the rest of the battleship.” He spoke as if he already had a plan, but Jace didn’t know what it was. “Your soldiers will be victorious on the ground, and the Starrealm fleet will clean up the skies.”
“Is that right?” the thegn asked, looking directly at Jace. Jace nodded quickly. The Wanderer’s Banishment might be enough to destroy a queen-core. With an accepting grunt, the thegn continued, “Yes. That…is a sound plan.”
Jace didn’t have to see Kinfild’s face to know he rolled his eyes. He said, “Relay the orders to your pilots. These two”—he pointed his thumb at Jace and Lessa—“will guide you. They’ve seen the starship. And I will need a starship for myself.”
There was a moment of silence as the thegn no doubt prepared to deny Kinfild’s request, but he must have thought better of it. “Very well. I have an unarmed shuttle that can be spared.”
“That will do,” Kinfild returned.
The thegn bowed his head. “Split-speed, Kinfild.”
Jace, Kinfild, and Lessa all hopped off the corvette’s boarding ramp. Jace turned to Kinfild and met the Wielder's gaze. “Good luck.” He paused, then grabbed Kinfild’s wrists. “Bring back help. I trust you.”
“Yeah, good luck!” Lessa added.
“I worry that you may need more luck than I,” said Kinfild.
One of the thegn’s crewmen beckoned Kinfild towards him. A kyborg much like Aur-Six trailed behind him, trowel in its mechanical hand. Kinfild turned away again, but before he took a step, he added, “Do not die, Mr. Baldwin.”
“We won’t,” Jace replied with a soft smile.
“So we’ve gotta fly a starfighter now?” Lessa asked. “Great, just great…”
“Unless you’d like me to send you off with Kinfild?” Jace spread his arms. “I could—”
“Not a chance.” She dashed in front of him. “I’m doing this, too—just, y’know, adding a little flavour to the experience. Can’t be too eager, or you’d think that I’d do anything for you. And we don’t need that.”
He snorted softly, then raised his chin in the direction of the nearest starfighter. It was a sleek, dart-like craft with gray armour plating and an angular cockpit viewscreen. Its wings, close to the stern, had wingtip plasma cannons.
They ran over to it and pulled the viewscreen open. The plate of glass hissed open and bent upward until it brushed against the starship’s miniature smokestack. Inside, instead of seats, there were saddles—just like the repeller bike. Here, however, one saddle faced forwards and the other faced backwards. One for the pilot, and one for the stoker, he assumed.
On each of the saddles was a pilot’s jacket and helmet. He cast aside the jacket. The helmet, a full-head-covering garment made of steel and leather, fit over his ears snugly.
Leaning into the fighter’s cockpit, he examined the interior. The front seat’s controls were just like the repeller-bike’s, but the furnace-boiler system seemed much more complex than just setting a fire in the rear compartment and hoping for the best. He asked, “Do you want the pilot’s seat or the stoker’s seat?”
“You’re the horseman, not me.” Lessa vaulted over the armoured hull, and slid into the rear saddle before Jace could protest. “I’ll trust you not to crash us.”
“As long as you keep us moving.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll…figure it out! Just get in.”