Page 178 of Scorching the Alien Empire
As if in answer, the comms erupt into a burst of garbled static, a sudden, piercing violation that claws into my mind. Andworse—the laughter. Faint, lingering at the edges of perception. Hidden. Mocking. A whisper that forces you to question whether it’s real or a symptom of creeping madness.
“Corsark, try comms again,” I command, though I already know the answer.
“Still nothing, War Chieftain,” he confirms, his fingers darting over the terminal in futile effort.
Just as I suspected. The Voidbringer has somehow blocked standard communications between fleets.
Among the Klendathians, we still have our blessed warvisors—a direct mind-to-mind connection, a gift from the Gods, superior and unequaled. But the Nebians? They fight as one, their coordination flawless. They have something. Advanced computing? Some other method? Whatever it is, it only functions among themselves.
Clever.
The steady, unrelenting downpour of plasma fire against the ship slows, lessening to a light drizzle. Through the viewport, the lifeless wreckage of shattered Seeker drones drifts aimlessly, their red lenses now dark, their husks little more than frozen debris. The few thousand-strong swarm that dared attackRavager’s Ruinand myBattlebargehas been obliterated.
“Shields recharging, War Chieftain,” Corsark announces, a note of relief in his voice.
“Shields recharging,” Princesa echoes, exhaling as she settles against me once more, her delicate frame curling around mine like the finest fur blanket. “I like when he says that.”
As do I.
“My fingers need recharging,” Drexios complains, flexing his fingers, opening and closing his fists as if shaking off an ache. Then his lips curl into a sharp grin. “Oh, but how I love it! I see enemies, I cut them to pieces. The carnage. The fear. You can feel it. Almost taste it. It’s in the air. It’s in our blood. All around us.”
“His blood’s full of crazy juice,” Princesa mutters under her breath.
If it’s slaughter he craves, then slaughter he shall have.
A smirk tugs at my lips as my gaze shifts downward, locking onto a damaged Voidbane drifting from the chaos of the frontlines. A hulking chunk of blackened arcweave, its obsidian hull torn open like a beast gutted by a celestial blade. Its flickering blue shields sputter like a failing heart, struggling to regain strength, clinging desperately to life.
A life I will claim.
My fingers glide over the controls, tilting the viewport downward as I guide us into position toward the prey. Like a swooping arrohawk, I study the nearby Scythian formations for any sign of retaliation, any shift of attention toward us. My hand hovers over the terminal, ready to pull back at the instant they move to swarm us.
Then, something cold grips me.
A ripple of unease skates down my spine as my eyes lock onto the Scythian fleet beyond the viewport, stretching beyond the edges of sight.
They are shifting. Adapting.
Their formation breaks like waves crashing against rocks, only to surge forward again in a metal fist of millions, closing around their prey with eerie precision.
This is the Voidbringer’s work.
I know how it thinks—the memories it forced into me, the torment it left behind. An intelligence as cold as the void itself. Precise. Unrelenting. Always calculating, recalculating.
The Seeker drones no longer act as shields, no longer intercept enemy fire. Now, all self-preservation is abandoned in favor of reckless, unrelenting charges.
Nebian Starcruisers exploit the gaps, weaving through the battlefield like crimson lightning, striking with deadly precision,their beams carving through Seeker drones before slamming into the Voidbanes beyond.
But they don’t notice the trap forming around them.
They think the drones are breaking, promising easy kills.
They are being drawn in.
The arcweave net closes around them, shifting like a living thing, metal masses moving into place with unnerving coordination. A Starcruiser banks sharply, twisting with incredible speed and agility, but the space around it has already been sealed off—boxed in—a metal sarcophagus.
I lose sight of it just as Its laser shields flare bright red as it vanishes, consumed by a churning plague of metal.
Brutal. Effective.
