Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Far past Mars, the Guardian formed as a speck on black, just another star, until Iax drew close and the speck grew into a sleek warship.
He had learned many things about Sawyer Knox’s vessel while traveling. About its enhancements, its defenses, its camouflage capabilities, and its weapons.
After hours upon hours of repairs on Earth, Iax had left the atmosphere. Well-timed too, because more ships had been about to arrive at both the research station and Wynn’s outpost as the storm ebbed in strength. He had engaged those camouflage capabilities to slip past them without incident.
And while on his journey, he had taken the time to converse with the ship fully, to integrate himself until a thought opened a door, or adjusted his trajectory.
And he sent his essence into the belly of the cruiser, to the four unique weapons, shells, hidden within.
He infused all of them with a portion of his Calypson self.
They waited, as expectant and eager as he, for the hulking mass of the warship to come into range.
Even more interesting, he had learned more about the man who owned this vessel. His secrets, the data he digested, the rules he liked to break.
That such a man had touched Wynn Lambdin, and had forced her out of her home, created a haze over Iax’s vision he could not clear. He was fixated on her, and relentless in his need to find her.
Voices echoed over the comm system, instructions, orders to identify himself. To stop, stand down, and prepare to be boarded. Along with the orders came the drone of thousands of new voices in his head. Relief shimmered over his shoulders.
Ever since he was a child, he had heard others. But since being so far away from Sector Ten, he had known only silence and quiet, except for the animalistic thoughts of the beasts, and the brief contact with Knox.
With his hands pressed flat against the main terminal, Iax ignored all the voices, both inside his head and out.
Weapons fire pulsed toward him. With his shields raised, he waited, ready.
That was the other thing he had analyzed and improved on the journey.
The shot connected, and the shields rippled with the force before absorbing the energy.
No need to deflect when he could power his torpedoes with free energy from the warship.
The Guardian remained locked down. They would not voluntarily allow him to land, but Wynn was on board. His stomach clenched, and pressure built in his chest with his need to find her.
Another shot pulsed toward him. It hit, rocking the vessel, then absorbed into the ship’s systems, stored as harmless energy.
My turn.
He fired from main tactical. Divvd. An orange pulse burst from the ship and connected with the Guardian’s shields. The payload dispersed on contact, analyzing its frequencies. Iax adapted his systems to match.
On the next attack, Iax aimed his adapted torpedoes. One. Two. Three. Four. They pulsed from the depths of the cruiser to hurtle toward the warship.
A rapid burst of weapons fire sprang from a different part of the Guardian than the original blasts, these trying to take out his enhanced weapons.
One hit his fourth torpedo. Iax gasped as his essence scattered into the void of space between him and the warship. Another hit torpedo number two, and he gritted his teeth. It stung, losing that little piece of himself. But already he was healing, moving on to the next task.
Two of the modified torpedoes made it through the barrage. They slammed into the outer hull of the massive ship in separate locations, then burrowed inside.
Shots continued to rain on the cruiser, and the reserves of energy topped up to full. His scans, and the information Knox had saved within the computer systems, revealed all the hangars where a ship this size could land. With just a thought, Iax aimed for one on the port side.
His essence stretched, then connected to the ship’s systems. He interrupted the conversations the ship had with itself and opened the hangar doors. He passed through the SNAP shielding using the codes he had digested and entered the hangar.
Defenders lined the interior, their weapons aimed at the ship. They fired, the pulses making the pink of the shields ripple around him. Iax concentrated on landing beside a bright white vessel three times the size of what he flew.
The defenders continued their assault, the shields undulating. He stood and strode toward the sleeping quarters, where he had laid out supplies. With a thought, Iax lowered the ship to the deck. Thunk. He touched down just as he stopped at the foot of the bed.
He already wore one of the black flight-suits Knox had left behind, but kept his hands and head bare.
His essence needed free rein if he were to take over this domain.
But he could not sustain similar injuries as he had on the planet.
It slowed him down and put Wynn in danger.
He would do everything in his power to remain well and whole, his abilities at full strength.
He swiped an autonomous shielding device from atop the covers and attached it to the shoulder of his flight-suit. Then came the weapons he had found in the locker beneath the bed, one gun on each thigh. Lastly came the knife holster he strapped to his hips.
Fully armed, he strode to the hatch. It opened as he neared. The defenders’ rounds continued to bombard the ship, the world a blur of pink beyond the door. Iax reconfigured his autonomous shielding to match the frequency of the ship’s defenses and stepped through.
Every gun aimed toward him. If not for the autonomous shielding, he would have fallen. Instead, his body swayed with each contact while a recurring thought looped in his mind: any of these people could have hurt Wynn.
Anger propelled him as his shielding absorbed the blasts, then deflected excess energy.
At this distance, there was little he could do to deter their attacks except return fire.
He pulled the weapon at his thigh. Pop. Pop.
Pop. Pop. His four shots connected, hitting center mass, but with their own shielding, it did insignificant damage, only disrupting their formations.
He knew Tellusians liked knives for that reason.
Iax strode forward, bracing for every blast, and pushed ahead. The defenders closest to him broke their lines when he continued to advance.
With a burst of speed, Iax charged the person closest to him. He struck out, punching the weapon from their hands, then gripped the back of their neck tight. They struggled, their hands reaching to dislodge Iax’s grip while the surrounding defenders fired, the area brightening with weapons fire.
Smack. Iax slammed the person’s head into the ground. Their visor remained intact. In one movement, Iax unsheathed the knife at his hip, grabbed the control panel on their sleeve, and sliced through the fabric of their uniform.
His essence swept inside. The man screamed, the sound muted inside the confines of his helmet. Iax froze as the coalescing took hold. A surreal euphoria, a gratification he had not expected, warmed his skin and calmed the chaos of the hangar.
This was the first time he had initiated a coalescing on his own. In Sector Ten, he had not been assigned to the bay where pilgrims docked, but he had felt their minds merge with all others, that faint growing sensation as new people integrated with the collective consciousness.
There was skill involved. Those who succeeded in coalescing were the ones left in charge of such matters. There was an element of chance, that the joining might not take hold, that the newly integrated mind might reject the connection, leaving the person unresponsive.
With Iax being new at this, there was more of a possibility of that happening. But here, it was necessary, unavoidable, to coalesce with others if he wanted to find Wynn and return to Sector Ten unscathed.
The soldier’s consciousness merged with his own. Iax’s breaths shortened as their minds entwined and Shay, the defender, accepted the Calypson essence into himself. There was always resistance at first, but they soon understood the contentment of being one.
The power of it. The freedom of it.
Shay released a haggard breath, and with it, the initial pain vanished from his body. His helmet disengaged, revealing eyes that glinted in the low light.
With a hand around his wrist, Iax assisted him to his feet. Arms clasped, they stared at each other, their purposes coiling. Shay understood what needed to be done and why. It took only a moment, a half breath, and their minds aligned.
More. They needed more Calypsons to help with the cause. More coalescing.
They turned in sync to face the defenders shouting and firing at them nonstop.
Orders came through Shay’s comm, and Iax heard them too, alerting them to the crew’s next plan of attack.
The soldier also knew this ship well, and could guess what General Cazin’s next orders might be even before they came through the comm.
Together, they charged forward and took hold of the closest defenders. Weapons knocked to the deck, clattering. Shouts became screams.
Two became four. Then four became eight. Eight became sixteen. Slowly, the chaotic cacophony ebbed into quiet, and Calypsons filled the hangar. An entire squad worth.
And as the last of the defenders joined them, Iax finally learned the information he had been searching for.
Wynn. She was being held captive on deck seven, under heavy guard.
Then that is where we will go.
They all agreed.