Authors: Unknown Author
Untitled (29 page)
Ergos stepped out of the shadows—a projection of his mind. He assumed his usual guise—the fat fop, bald, in garish clothing.
"I did what I did—I take no pleasure in it. She had to be quieted. I'm glad she survived."
"I am not acquiring a harem, sir. I am simply trying to help this woman. I am trying to assist her in becoming an Elder."
A second entity joined them in the crowded alcove.
Davage looked. An image of Demona of Ryel stepped out of the shadows. Her crisp uniform was as black and tidy as ever. Her brown hair was tied up.
"Loviatar," Davage said. "This isn't you usual guise."
"What do you two want? I am, most certainly, busy."
Davage picked Bethrael up and headed to the edge of the alcove. "Yes, and how many friends did I lose at Mirendra? Perhaps you should have thought of that before setting yourselves in a final attack against us here. Perhaps you should not have listened to Princess Marilith."
"We offered you a star … one of our own creation. But you wanted dying to go along with it. You betrayed us, and now here you are. Deluum dead."
Davage thought a moment. He felt for Deluum, despite himself. "Should I survive this ordeal I will take your proposal to the Admiralty and argue on your behalf. I promise you that, though I cannot predict their response."
Loviatar's Demona image approached Davage and gently touched his shoulder.
"I do not need your help. As I have said, the Stellar Fleet will be here shortly."
Allow us to bring you up to date, Captain. You will be pleased to learn that your first officer was successful in getting your vessel out of orbit. However, your vessel is in a bad state.>
Ergos continued.
Davage listened and could hear the truth in what they were saying. He had always been able to work well with the Marines—his first officer was a Marine, after all. His engineer, Mapes, Lord of Grenville, could be an arrogant man if not properly motivated and tasked. He was certainly a Grenville, but he was a good engineer. He wondered if he would accept orders from Kilos, a Brown Marine lieutenant. A person of no social standing at all.
His heart sank.
"I recall your warning against approaching the Silver Temple."
Davage thought he could hear a roaring sound.
A column of Shadow tech slammed into the buildings surrounding Davage and the fallen Black Hat.
The alcove exploded in a raging funnel of black.
8
The man in the massive engineering bay was wearing a Fleet uniform, the usual elaborate blue coat with gold ivy, frilly shirt, boots, black pants, and large triangle hat. He wore the scarlet sash for the Engineering Division decorated with devices and Fleet ribbons. Syg had come to associate the uniform with Davage, though his sash was black. She loved the uniform. She loved the way Davage looked in it.
But this man wasn't Davage.
He stared at her with prying gray eyes, looking her up and down, regarding her, calculating … coveting. He made no attempt to disguise the fact that Sygillis, still in the habit of wearing her black Hospitaler Chancellor's bodysuit, was very much to his liking.
On the way to Engineering, Kilos had warned Syg about him: Commander Mapes, Lord of Grenville, Chief Engineer.
"He's a marvelous engineer, Mapes is, but he's certainly a Grenville, the younger brother to Lord Sixtus Grenville."
"That means nothing to me," Syg had said.
"It means he can be a pompous ass and makes it a point to be so. Five years ago when our old engineer, Commander Penderline, took command of the
New Britain
, Mapes was appointed as the new Chief Engineer—a surprise move knowing how the Grenvilles can't stand Dav, his castle, or his family to boot."
"How did that happen?"
"Blue maneuverings—social stuff, politics. Ask Dav, I try not to bother in such things."
"I would love to ask Dav something, anything right now."
"Anyway, the end result was that Dav was stuck with Mapes, brother of his archrival. It was gossiped that Lord Grenville was trying to take control of the
Seeker
. But Dav being Dav, he was able to win Mapes over to some extent, and it worked out in the end. Mapes is a talented engineer."
"Dav is able to control him?"
"He is. But we don't have Dav right now, do we? Remove Dav, and he's prone to arrogance and insubordination. He will, doubtless, challenge my command as first officer because I'm a pathetic Brown, and he'll see you as nothing more than a beautiful woman to make trophy out of."
"He may say what he pleases, as long as we achieve results. I am anxious to get Dav back as soon as possible."
When they entered Engineering, there was a great bustle of people moving about here and there. The smell of burning metal filled the air.
Mapes, resplendent in his Fleet uniform, stood by the rails and surveyed the situation. Becoming aware of visitors, he slowly turned.
"Ah, Lieutenant Kilos of the Stellar Marines, I was wondering when you would be arriving down here."
"What is our current status, Commander?" she asked.
"Status? Is it not obvious?"
"Please answer my question."
"Status, if you must know, is not operational. Life support is maintained, breaches controllable as long as the ship does not alter course. Any movement or pressure on the spar and we will go into breach afresh."
"When will we be re-sparred and fit to travel?"
Mapes shook his head. "We will not be re-sparred. The spar is in twain, and we've not the materials on hand to dock it. We must send word to the Fleet and tow to dry-dock."
"We must re-spar, Commander. Otherwise, we will not be able to effect a rescue of the captain on Ergos."
"I'm afraid the captain is lost. We will not be re-sparred without a proper dry-dock and a team of craftsmen in attendance."
"Mapes, I have brought Sygillis here to—"
"I do not care a moment's notice who you have brought, Marine. We will not be re-sparred, as I have said. You are lucky we have managed containment thus far."
"I am in command on this vessel, and I am ordering you to—"
"Issuing orders are you? If you have an ounce of sense available to you, you will lay down your claims to command and allow the Fleet to attend to our situation."
"I am the first officer of this ship, Marine or not, and you will accept my orders in the captain's absence or I will have you clapped in irons."
A passing group of Marines heard the conversation and moved in behind Kilos. They were fuming.
Mapes regarded them with scorn. "Get your frothing rabble out of my engineering bay at once, Brown-head!"
The Marines muttered to themselves in a low growl.
Kilos's right eye twitched with rage at the insult. "You are about to be knocked on your Blue backside, Grenville."
"That is Lord Grenville to you. You should know your place."
A few Fleet crewmen lined up behind Mapes.
It appeared the peace Davage had so easily kept over the years was about to fall apart in a bad way.
Sygillis stepped forward. "Lieutenant, Commander, please," she said. "This bickering is a fruitless waste of time. We've a ship that needs repairing, and we've a captain who needs immediate rescue. I am certain it is in all of our mutual interests to recover him as soon as possible. Please, Lord Grenville, we have come to assist in the repairs required to make this vessel whole once again."
Mapes looked long and hard at Sygillis. His eyes moved up and down her small, fit frame. "Well met, madam." He bowed. "You must be Lady Sygillis, our captain's esteemed guest."
His eyes smoldered beneath his large hat. He seemed to take notice of the Blanchefort belt Syg was wearing.
"The captain has done me a great disservice. I had no inkling that you were such a … handsome … lady of standing. I am sorry that you have been smothered up to this point by the captain … the Blancheforts, you see. I assure you that much more tasteful company abounds."
"Sir," she said, "time is of the essence. We have come to assist you in repairing this vessel. Please, could you—"
"And how could a, lovely lady such as yourself, assist me in the serious repairs ahead, hmmm?"
"I am wanting to fix the problem, the what is it—the Main Spar?"
Mapes doubled over with laughter. His crew followed suit.
Syg and Kilos looked at each other in disbelief.
"Sir," Syg said in a dangerous voice, "I am most certainly not joking. I intend to repair this ship, for it seems that you cannot or are unable to do so."
Mapes stopped laughing and stood bolt straight up—he towered over her. He fumed.
He went to say something.
Sygillis spoke over him, the Dirge hard in her voice. "
Now,"
she Dirged, "Y
ou will be good enough to show me this spar machination, and you will show me and Lieutenant Kilos exactly what needs to be done to correct what ails it."
Her Dirge voice banged around the bay, fierce and strong. Mapes's crewmen, enraged, made to advance on Syg, and she was quickly surrounded by the Marines in a defensive combat box, just as they did for a Sister in their charge. They were ready to defend Syg to the death. The irony.
Mapes, Dirged, began walking, his staff eyeing Syg angrily. The Marines stared them down, ready for a fight.
"You have set the Dirge to a Lord of Grenville," he hissed on the march. "I'll see you executed for this, Lady Sygillis," he said, his body moving of its own accord.
Sygillis snapped back, her mastery of the Dirge allowing her to talk and hold it at the same time. "And, if anything happens to Captain Davage as a result of this childish delay, Mapes, I will kill you myself as many times and in as many ways possible. Pray you, sir, that he returns to my arms safe and unharmed, for woe to you should he not.
Lead the way, sir, and you need not speak until we arrive
."
In a shuffling mumbling mass, they exited the bay.
* * * * *
Davage seized the limp form of Bethrael of Moane and Wafted out of the alcove. A whirling fist of black Shadow tech shattered it, grinding stone into dust and making the ground shake.
He re-appeared about a hundred yards south of the alcove on a flat plain, approaching the temple.
He was panting, winded. Wafting while holding another, even a tiny person like Bethrael, was an exhausting labor. He needed a moment.
Looking back he saw a Black Hat approaching his position. He noted, even at this distance, that she was a good deal taller that most of the Black Hats he'd ever seen—she appeared to be almost as tall as Kilos.
His Sight began to take over.
He saw himself and this Black Hat in hand to hand combat. He saw a huge black battle axe.
She seemed to have no Hulgismen, for none were in the immediate area, and she seemed much wiser as far as fighting with a lone opponent.
And that will make her his most dangerous adversary yet.
She raised her hand, and a scintillating black battle axe formed. It was huge. When she raised her arm, it seemed to tower over her, thirty, forty, fifty feet in the amber air. With her other hand, she formed a withering black whip that cracked and hissed.
She was going to fight him one to one. He wondered, given her power and apparent skill, if he would survive.
He laid Bethrael down and un-saddled his CARG, stretching it out to a manageable fighting length of four and a half feet.
Further underscoring this particular Black Hat's skill, he noted that she was moving around. Most Black Hats tended to stand still when they fought. Obviously, their Dora were a painful impediment. This one closed in, moving easily, gracefully, ignoring the pain she was in.
She raised her battle axe; it climbed to towering heights.
It came down in a whistling arc.
Davage rolled to his left and felt it bite deep into the dirty plain behind him, lifting dirt and rock and bits of Ergos into the dull air. He lunged forward and swung his CARG around. It impacted with a heavy thud against her left foot—the Dora again.
The Black Hat didn't make a sound and didn't fall. Instead, she hauled back and lashed him across the back with her black whip. As he recoiled in agony, she picked him up using a simple TK and mashed him into the ground. Again, her skill at in-fighting was superb. She ignored the usual Black Hat Weapons, the Point, the Mass, the Sten and so on, and used the things that worked—quick, easy TKs, Shadow tech weapons, and her bare hands,
