Jarred turned from Ethan and Elora and found the dark being, the
Usarion impersonator;
a name he used with more doubt than he cared admit; staring back at him from across the chamber, it’s yellow eyes burning with an intensity that mirrored the growing inferno he felt in his own chest. An inferno that threatened to consume him if not unleashed. Upon the very subject that was the cause of its manifestation.
Behind the dark being, shielded by the stone chairs they had only recently been seated in and were now cowering behind like frightened children, were the Head of State and his significant others, most likely fearing themselves the targets of the explosion. Durak and the elder Rai Chi were also there, neither cowering behind anything, and though the latter’s fury was unmistakable, both remained still in the presence of their false deity.
It was no matter. Jarred wasn’t concerned with any of them. His sole interest remained with the dark being that stood in the forefront, as it’s interest remained equally trained on him. He wanted to hurl himself at it. To destroy it. He didn’t know where the feeling came from, and strangely, it didn’t seem to matter to him. Regardless of its true identity and origin, everything in Jarred told him it was . . .
evil
. He wasn’t even sure he believed in so simplistic and ideological a concept, but if such a thing existed, this dark being surely embodied it.
If that was true, what did it mean for himself? Jarred wasn’t naive or pompous enough to suddenly think himself the embodiment of good, but
something
had urged him to return here with the purpose of confronting this being. Of that he was certain. And much like before, he felt powerless to resist. The urge was too strong. He
needed
to destroy this
impersonator
, and though the cause of that need was a mystery, he could not deny its hold over him.
Beneath its alien faceplate, the dark being almost appeared to smile, as if sensing Jarred’s thoughts. Without speaking, it seemed to call out to him, inviting him to give in to his desire to kill it . . . or try.
Jarred took a step toward the being, more than willing to capitulate, but was halted, his movement cut short by a blinding explosion of crimson fire.
* * *
“What
is
that?”
It was Ethan that asked the question, but Elora was thinking the same. Jarred had seen them. He had been looking right at her, but something had kept him from coming to them. Something . . .
horrible
.
“I don’t know,” she answered him, not fully sure if that was true. The dark figure wasn’t any race of being she was familiar with, though she did recognize it. It resembled images she had seen before, terrifying things that used to frighten her as a child, and frankly, still did. Stone sculptures, in varying depictions of its likeness, decorated much of the chamber it and Jarred were occupying, a throne room of some kind by the looks of it. This whole temple was a shrine to their kind. To the Usarion Gods. But the being in the chamber, as terrifying as it appeared . . . it
couldn’t
be.
Elora absently activated her comm and spoke into it. “Are you seeing this?”
“We see it,”
Sierra came back, from the flight deck.
“I’m on my way back.”
“Is that what I think it is?” Elora asked, hoping she was just imagining things.
“If you’re thinking what I am,”
Kern responded, the chill in his voice obvious even over the comm,
“then I really hope not.”
“Well, whatever it is,” Elora went on, “it’s got Jarred’s full attention.”
“Not for long,”
Sierra commented, as she entered the hold, with a cold edge to her voice that Elora had come to recognize as her no-nonsense combat tone. She took up a position next to the open boarding ramp door and activated a control panel along its side bulkhead, a panel sliding free to reveal a mounted cannon. Swiveling the cannon around by its attachment arm, she pointed it out through the opening. “Whatever it is, it’s about to say goodbye.”
Before Elora could respond she was shielding her eyes against the brilliant flashes of radiance lancing out from the gatling gun’s spinning barrel. Spattering and burning into the chamber floor, the volley of rapid cannon fire traced a quick path of destruction towards the Usarion figure, who stood motionless in its approaching wake. As the energy barrage struck its target, some of the blasts appeared to actually bend around it, exploding into the surrounding stone objects and the wall on the chamber’s far side. Others simply vanished into the being itself, leaving no burns or marks of any kind to show they had even made contact.
And then she felt the cold weight of its eyes, yellow and monstrous, fall on her, and was seized by a terror she had never known, sheer will keeping her from crumbling to the deck beneath the horrible gaze. The thing was truly a nightmare and Jarred continued to face it, Elora unable to fathom why. The unthinkable answer came to her as he took a step toward the being, Elora’s mouth opening in a desperate scream, as she tried to call out to him once more. He did not turn.
* * *
As the rapid volley of energy blasts shot past him, Jarred stood unmoving, his eyes locked on the dark being that was their target, the superheated rounds tearing through the stone floor, pillars and sculptures along with anything else they came in contact with.
All but the dark being itself. Much of the laser fire, which should have burned through the stationary being, appeared to bend and veer away from it instead, as if being drawn away by some unseen force. Even more impossibly, the flurry of bolts that
did
stay their course seemed to vanish on contact with the dark figure, disappearing inside it.
A cold chill ran up Jarred’s spine and he knew immediately that wasn’t what had happened at all. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he felt something else had happened . . . or
was
happening.
The being’s eyes brightened with a familiar intensity, a sulfuric gaze Jarred had met only a short time earlier, and he knew immediately what had made his blood run so cold. The energy rounds had not simply disappeared. No. They had actually been absorbed by the dark figure and Jarred knew for what purpose. The building tempest in the being’s eyes told him what it intended to do, yet what unsettled him most was the focus of that fiery glare, as unlike before, it was not directed at him, but over his shoulder. At the people he had sacrificed himself to protect, and who had in turn come here, putting themselves back in danger to rescue
him
. He heard a voice call out to him, even over the mixed roar of wind and ion engines, but did not dare remove his gaze from the danger before him.
The dark being’s hand rose, the clawed appendage igniting with a crimson energy that quickly swelled into a tempest of swirling fire. Jarred was already moving as the being gestured forward to unleash the maelstrom it had conjured back on the vessel that had first fired it, placing himself between Elora and Ethan and the destructive fireball. Unsure of what was compelling him to do so, he extended his hands and braced himself, taking the full brunt of the energy blast. At the moment the red fireball struck him, inexplicably, an energy discharge of his own emerged from his hands, a bluish shimmering light that flared into existence, meeting the dark being’s own maelstrom.
The collision was fierce, and though his own energy blast had the effect of acting as a shield, buffering him from being disintegrated, it was not enough to keep him in place. The blast impact took Jarred off his feet and sent him flying backward until he found himself surrounded by open sky. Realizing he had been thrown through the opening of the chamber and clean out of the building, he twisted himself around to catch a glimpse of Elora and Ethan’s startled faces before they raised out of view as he began to fall.
* * *
Sierra released the trigger on the gatling gun, cutting the ultra rapid laser flurry, her eyes wide with disbelief. Impossibly, her target still stood. Not only that, but it was completely unharmed, the chamber all around it lying in ruin. She knew that she had struck it with much of the barrage. Nothing could have survived it.
And yet this
being
, who’s appearance so eerily resembled that of a Usarion deity, had. And that being’s attention had now shifted, from Jarred . . . to them. It’s yellow eyes flashed brightly, and though she could not see it’s face beneath the shell of the mask it wore, a cold, sickly feeling in her stomach told her it was grinning. The being raised it’s hand, and Sierra was shocked again, as a shimmering energy conjuration emerged from and engulfed it, crimson as the laser flurry she had been firing.
The knot in her stomach tightened as she realized the being’s intent, and before she could give voice to the command to retreat, pull away, dive, anything that would remove them from the being’s line of sight, the ball of flaming red energy surged forward. Unable to look away, or even recoil, she could only watch as the red energy projectile bore down on them, a fraction of a second which seemed to stretch for an eternity. But the crimson fireball never reached them, halted before it had escaped the audience chamber’s outer wall, Jarred moving to place himself in its path.
It happened so quickly, Sierra could not say what had actually occurred, but instead of Jarred being instantly vaporized, which is what she assumed
should
have happened, there was a bright flash of light, pale blue mixing with red, and Jarred was thrown backwards out through the hole they had created in the chamber’s outer wall.
Stunned beyond comprehension by what she had just witnessed, it took Sierra a moment to snap out of her stupor and react. “Kern!” she shouted, over Elora’s cry of dismay, as Jarred dropped out of sight. “Take us down!” Kern had obviously seen him drop as well, as the ship was already dipping into a sharp descent as the last words were leaving her lips.
“I’m on it!”
Kern called back, over the comm.
“Hold onto something,” she directed Elora and Ethan, next to her, who were already clinging to handrails along the inner hull. Her own hands still firmly clasped around the dual grips of the gatling gun, she pulled the weapon out of the boarding hatch opening and threw herself back into the nearest bulkhead, wedging her foot into the inner ledge of the hatch to keep herself in place while used one hand to attach a nearby thether to her belt.
“I see him!”
Kern reported, the ship obviously banking, though Sierra couldn’t tell how much without being able to see out the boarding hatch. A problem if she was going to get to Jarred. She would have to see him to get a hold of him. Gripping the hatchway handrail she pulled herself forward, not an easy task against the inertia of the descending craft, and stabilizing her footing, peered out through the hatch. The rushing air current nearly pulled her through the opening and she strengthened her grip on the handrail. The tether would keep her from falling to her death if she was sucked out of the ship, but she would do no good to Jarred or herself if she was left dangling helplessly outside of it.
And then he was there, falling right along side them, only meters away from the extended boarding ramp. As he turned over, their eyes met and she tried to shout into her comm for Kern to alter their vector, the rushing air flow making her scream a bare whisper. Luckily, when it came to piloting, Kern was always at pace with her, if not a step ahead and the ship began to drift closer to Jarred. Straining to keep her grip on the handrail, Sierra pulled herself forward and reached her free hand out in Jarred’s direction.
* * *
Still dazed from the energy collision that had sent him tumbling out through the destroyed opening of the audience chamber, Jarred struggled to right himself as he plummeted. To one side and only meters away was the tower itself, it’s levels ascending so rapidly they were a dizzying blur.
He tried not to look that way.
Everywhere else, he was left with a view of the vast city skyscape, the pace of his fall seeming less dramatic when measured against it, though the illusion did little to comfort him. Far below, the ground, and his death, were inevitably growing nearer. That end seeming a foregone conclusion, he found himself stunned yet again when the mass of a ship appeared in front of him. Inside, Sierra hung half into the opening, staring back at him and screaming something he couldn’t make out.
Not wasting any time trying to figure out what she was saying, or what pilot was crazy enough to pull off a maneuver like this, he twisted and contorted his body around to create enough drag to allow him to glide closer to the opening, or the boarding ramp that was extended from it. Closing the short distance, he managed to take hold of the ramp’s edge, though his grip was tenuous at best. The shear force of the rushing air, coupled with his weakened state, made climbing the sideways ramp and a seeming impossibility. Looking up, he could see that Sierra was reaching out to him, though her hand might as well have been on the other side of the universe. He was unable to pull himself forward, every ounce of his strength allocated to the task of simply maintaining the hold he had on the ramp, one that was growing more difficult by the millisecond.