Chapter 37
Shoddy Work and Rapid Deployments
You ever have a group project? One where there are three of you. You have to do one thing, one fucking minor thing, the same exact way three times. Well really just once, but for this instance three times. You do it twice. Two of you even team up to make sure the task is done correctly. Then you try to team up with the third person, but they just don’t want to work with you. So, you trust the third person that they did the assignment, the one very important assignment correctly. Only to find out two weeks later that not only did they half-ass the assignment, but they also ended up destroying the core of their planet completely?
No? No planetary death by failure to do an assignment to satisfactory conditions? No genocide level events caused by complete ineptitude of the third member of the team? Well, aren’t you just lucky? Either you had good teammates, or your assignments weren’t that important.
I know what I’m thinking right about now. Why didn’t I go to community college? Am I right?
Well in case you haven’t guessed by now the Dwenvarian, or space dwarfs as they are commonly referred to, fucked up. Not going to sugar coat it and say that Rayquel and I were ready to help a week ago when we were already out on a mission. Not going to say I told you so, again mainly due to translation errors. If you thought the translation of that idiom to Endarian was bad, the Dwenvarian version is far worse. In Dwenvarian the idiom I told you so translates to “use the hammer and forge like your father taught you.” Again, idioms especially across space faring races should be avoided at all costs.
If the translation didn’t already inform you, let me make it blatantly obvious. Dwenvarians don’t exactly call themselves space dwarfs, that is the term we came up for them, when we first began integrating ourselves with them. Their culture is odd to say the least. While humans and Endarians have gone to the spaceship form of space travel. The Dwenvarians have gone to a mechanoid approach, yep, space mechs. Small space mechs that have large weapons to compensate for nothing.
They say you can tell a Dwenvarian’s worth by the size of their beard. The Dwenvarian space mechs are no different. A piece of scrap metal from every enemy killed will be melted down and forged into a unique piece of beard to be worn by the mechanoid. Thus, it is not uncommon to see a prolific mechanoid combatant with multiple colors and lengths of beard. The beard serves a dual purpose of providing both extra armor and protection for the driver of the mechanioid, while also serving as a supposed deterrent for combat.
As for me, personally I never found the beards all that intimidating. The minds of the mechanoid pilots were never protected by the metal beards, nor did a longer beard imply the pilot would have greater mental resistances. In the end most mechanoid pilots were easy target practice for Mind Renders like me. Then again with Psionic capabilities expanding by a thousand-fold in space, it is little wonder why the Endarians were seen as the dominant force in space. While the Dwenvarians began conquering planets from the inside out. It wasn’t until we humans came along that the delicate balance of power was thrown off.
At first, we were welcomed by the Dwenvarians as we were seen as a natural rival to the Endarians. Only to then find out that we too liked the minerals and resources of planets, especially after the Dwenvarians shared many of their processes with us. The end result was, we were ultimately hated by both until recently.
I have the honor of being the only human in this converging fleet coming from Endarian space. The humans are amassing their own reserve force, but logistics dictate that they will be later as it will take not one but two hops from human space to reach the Dwenvarian’s home world, Fjorid.
As for us, Rayquel and I will be the poster children for the joint operation. We already have a camera set up with her in the front and me in the back. The only problem is that, while I am in the co-pilot seat, I am the one in primary control. The reason for this is simple and can be summed up in one word, politics. Yes, I am in an Endarian ship, joining in on an Endarian mission. Thus, I will need to take the back seat to the true Endarian noble, Rayquel. Fortunately, I have monitors set up that allow me to see what is in front of the ship. Also, additional crystalline compensators have been added to help increase my Psionic range even more.
Why am I still the pilot, even though I should be performing the role of overwatch? Simple, I’m the better pilot. My Piloting skill is at 77% overall, now it should be pointed out that this considers all forms of piloting, from piloting freighters, to piloting large scale transport vessels, to piloting mechanoid pieces of garbage. If you name it, and it flies my piloting skill will tell how I rank in relationship to flying any of those other pieces of trash. My love, my true reason for learning to fly in the first place is the fighter plane. I have a main specialty with human fighter pilot that has me at ninety-nine plus percent, making me one of the top aces. What isn’t listed is my secondary specialty of Endarain fighter pilot, which has a respectable ninety-nine percent. Note the fact that I am missing the plus? That is literally the only difference in the numbers, one of the Endarian pilots is slightly better than me.
“Thank you again.” Rayquel says, her voice low. The voice feed is still off from our broadcast and our lips are likely being blurred out. But we still have a live feed of us in our respective seats. The angles of the cameras are at such an angle to make our hands and arms appear off screen. This is done for a reason, as this will make it easier to sell the fact that we are in the correct roles.
See humans only send up one pilot and prefer to send up psionics at that. The idea being the psionic will be better able to move and fight as an individual. The Endarians believe that two minds are better than one. While the Psionic, or more often the case, the Psychic minded Endarian plays the role of the gunner. The Mage will be the one to pilot the ship. In Rayquel’s case, this piloting is not possible. First, she is not a mage. Secondly there is something about the magical resonance of her wings makes it so the crystals she would normally use to control the ship go haywire and cause immediate problems. This is standard for most truly gifted Psychics when dealing with the finicky crystalline matrices of the cockpit. I am somehow able to negate this problem due to my dual class situation. Also, the previously mentioned amplification crystals under me also help to feed off any residual psychic phenomena that could interfere with the instrument panel and direct it elsewhere. Still, it would look unseemly for a human to spearhead the entire operation. Thus, the modified cockpit with Rayquel, the Iron Butterfly leading the way. Her wings up and fully exposed. This too is by design. First her having to fold her wings is apparently quite painful. Secondly her wings serve as both a calling card denoting who she is and helps further hide me from the cameras that are set up in the cockpit.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Apparently, her last partner was a double-classer like me. Or someone who fulfilled both the role of pilot and the role of Mage. Well apparently, the other person was way more qualified than a Support Mage, like me, but it was determined that Rayquel would be more than enough to make up for our differences. At least that is the way the media is spinning this joint operation. I come across as someone basking in Rayquel’s shadow, as opposed to being the one driving the vehicle, providing the fire power, and being the strategic level asset with in-depth knowledge of the alien foe.
Apparently, my skill affinities were part of why General Tigran, there I got it right the first time, paired both Rayquel and me up. Our pair bonding was just a glorious benefit. I personally didn’t mind, as it meant I was officially an Endarian citizen, and thus any attempts by the human governments to lock me up again would be seen as a war crime. So, I filed the paperwork almost immediately declaring myself a full Endarian citizen and emancipating myself from the humans of this universe.
The paperwork is still being processed. I find it funny how currents and stores of data can travel at faster than light speed, but everything dealing with bureaucracy still needs to seemingly have a human sacrificed to grease the wheels of efficiency. Not that I am contemplating murder, just saying people might feel more motivated if certain conditions were met. Though I guess this couldn’t be a joint human and Endarian operation if I was a full Endarian subject. I have a feeling that my swaying of racial denominations will be used as a political trump card later, but that is a battle for another time.
“Not a problem, we are a team.” I say, after I feel the slight pulse of emotions from our bond letting me know she is worried about my response. I still find the whole thing odd, how I can feel her uncertainty within me.
“Still, I know I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Stop that, you know you would be fine.” I say, not liking the uncertainty that was building within her. I have a question that is forming on my mind, one that I think would answer why she feels so vulnerable right now. One that I think would provide insight into why she lost her first pairing. I am about to ask the question, if nothing else than to fill the lull in time before we are set to start.
For anyone not familiar with a major military operation, the idiom hurry up and wait are the four best words to describe the whole ordeal. We have been prepped and loaded for hours, especially as the Thessia Academy was labeled as the official congregation point for this joint operation. Why Thessia Academy? The answer is simple and can be summed up in one word, Astria.
Simply put, Astria is the leading expert on Portal creation. Since she was already here at the Academy, along with both Rayquel and me it was made into a big promotional opportunity. The freaky human joining forces with the Endarian beauty who had the wings of regalia adorning her back. The new power couple who recently pair bonded, a sign that the Endarians and Humans had a lot in common. Yep, I was being used in an act of war against the Scourge as a sign for how peace could be achieved between Endarians and Humans alike. I was okay with this, even when I went back, the humans and Endarians would need to keep peaceful relations if they wanted to deal with the Prolaxian menace.
“Hmm.” A pain filled reverberation filled our bond, at the same time Rayquel let out a pain filled humming sound. I was about to ask what but was cut off.
“All right, this is a standard spear thrust formation. Astria will open the portal, then you will dash through as quickly as possible. Once through break right, left, up, down in that order. This way you should manage to clear the initial entry point without problem. Remember we have a short time window before Astria will be forced to shut down the portal.”
Thinking back on her classroom lecture from the other day, us performing this operation in space made the most sense. While she could clearly contemplate the vast intricacies and mathematics of creating portals on two planets that were rotating in opposite directions, why bother. Instead, she would just effectively punch a hole in between two areas of space and let us travel through. We were packed tightly in a diamond formation; this was believed to be the largest that Astria was able to create a dimensional rift in space to cover such a vast distance. To help prepare we were already set up in formation and waiting for her to create the portal.
Rayquel and I were at the front of the line, it wouldn’t work to have the two stars of the operation to not be able to join the operation. So we were at the very tip, the second group to go through. This was also done to ensure our safety, sometimes the rifts were not fully formed when ships tried to go through. So being second in was often seen as a spot of the most chances to succeed. This all sounded like superstition and statistics to me, but who was I to argue with orders.
I first felt the surge of energy before I saw the portal get created. In space a giant green arc appeared in front of us. The readout and instruments before me of course said nothing, but my magical senses told me that great swaths of power were being called forth and mobilized to this one point.
“Go, go, go!” The commander called out before the rift in space had fully formed. This was part of the plan, as we would hopefully be going through the portal at the exact second the portal connection fully stabilized. I was already moving the second I felt the first craft in front of me lurch forward.
Then just before the ship in front of me would have either flown through the non-existent hole, thus missing it entirely, or reached a hole that was not fully stabilized. A miracle happened, the ovular rift in space opened and swallowed the first row of ships completely. Instantly minds that had been right within my range suddenly blinked out. Just as I was contemplating this odd experience it was our turn to enter the tunnel.
Space whipped by in a blur for a second, then we were through and immediately thrown into a fight. Banking a hard right, I turned and immediately began to engage the enemy. Scourge as dark as space flew like an unending curtain of death straight towards us.
“Evasive maneuvers!” I shouted, as I began turning about. The first row of ships was already captured in the wall of cascading darkness. Not even having a chance to see or even react to the black insects that were splattering against their crafts.
“AHH! Clink, clank, clunk.” Came over the airwaves as the first row of ships were already being engulfed and extinguished by the space cockroaches.
As for me I was already making plans on falling back. “Fall back.” That was until the next wave of ships came through, apparently the portal either didn’t allow for communications to proceed back, or we were already too committed to this process to turn back now. Realizing we couldn’t go back; I did the only thing I could.
I amplified my Mind Rend, using the amplifying crystals below me and projected it out in a wave of death before me. I was little better than having your windshield wiper on during a hurricane, but I tried. At the very least I would carve a path forward for those who came later to follow. At least that was the goal. I definitely wasn’t retreating in a forward direction; such actions are not possible given military procedures. Even if that was in essence what I was doing. I couldn’t turn back, as I would likely crash into the next waves of ships coming forward, and I couldn’t stay by the entry way as that was where the curtain of death awaited us. The only way to move, with even a slight chance of living was forward.
So that’s what we did, we retreated forward, through the enemy lines. I felt like a knight trying to charge at a dragon. In this case my lance would be my Mind Rend, which I used to kill each mind indiscriminately before me. This was also a reason why I couldn’t retreat back; with such indiscriminate use of power, I would rend friend and foe alike. Thus, my need to lead the charge.
Darkness engulfed us, as for a moment it looked like we were lost in our own pocket dimension of hell. One where there was no sight, no sound, only pure emptiness. Emptiness and falling alien bodies.
Clump. Clump. Clump.
The bodies of the dead softball sized creatures clattered against our vessel before veering off harmlessly into space.
“Eeep!” Rayquel squealed up ahead, I could tell she was cowering in fear. I couldn’t really blame her I would be too if I was in her shoes. She was in all essence powerless to do anything about this. She could neither drive the vessel, nor direct her attacks. She was little more than a glorified figurehead at this point.
Then finally, I felt the surge of minds before us start to dwindle, then die out entirely. One second, we were surrounded in a sea of complete darkness. Then the next we were blasting free from the curtain of death and looking down on the remains of the wasted Dwenvarian home world of Fjorid.
The signs of orbital bombardment were clearly evident to see, but orbital bombardment only went so far when so many different Dwenvarian settlements went so deep underground. In the end, looking at the planet it was clear that such countermeasures would not have been enough to take care of the scourge. At least not against the Dwenvarian settlements.
A quick glance around showed the remains of the Dwenvarian orbital fleet of mechanoid infantry. Ships and armored constructs depicting different Dwenvarians floated listlessly in space. Looking at the scene it was something out of a horror movie. Then closing my eyes, I performed a quick flip of the vessel, so that we were now facing back towards the path I had just carved.
The path that was even now being filled in by more and more monsters.