Page 160 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“Ugh. You aresofucking disgusting, Drex-iot.” Princesa rolls her eyes, idly stroking her grotesquely fattened cyloillar as it slumbers against her shoulder. “Why don’t you stop projecting your fantasies onto me, and actually helpDracothfor once?” she sneers, venom in her glare.
I move past them both, ascending the obsidian steps and lowering myself into the throne. The stone groans beneath my weight, metal grinding against rock as I settle into my rightful seat.
The navigational display confirms what I already know. A fleet of Voidbanes and millions of drones trail in our wake, so numerous their markers blur into a single, pulsating mass of white. But ahead, blocking our path—three Voidbanes, accompanied by three hundred thousand Seeker drones. A lesser force, but still overwhelming. They will be upon us in less than ten minutes.
“Collision course?” I ask, noting that theRavager’s Ruin’snavigation is locked onto the lead, oncoming Voidbane.
“Yeah,” Drexios replies, his voice thick with dark amusement. “I say void ’em. Let’s go out fighting, take as many of the bastards with us.” His claws extend with an audiblesnikt. “Ravager Berserker style.”
“Iknewit!” Princesa exclaims, throwing her hands into the air. “Why would you leave thissuicidal maniacin charge of—well,anything?” She turns her accusing glare on me, frustration blazing in her eyes.
But I don’t meet it. My focus remains on the navigational controls, on the tactical error before us, on the asteroid field lingering just beyond our starboard flank.
Despite the dire situation, despite the oncoming doom, a ghost of a smirk tugs at my lips.
They don’t see it. Not yet. A possible stratagem, my mind already calculating countless numbers, timings, moves and counters.
Perhaps Princesa is right. Perhaps Drexiosisa fool.
Or perhaps I am uniquely blessed by Arawnoth. Destined to lead. Destined for victory.
“Oh, IthinkI saw a little smile on my Mr. Frowny Face,” Princesa teases, tilting her head with mock delight. “That’s such a relief.” She strokes the bloated cyloillar nuzzled against her, sighing dramatically. “Todd wasworryinghis little booties off.”
I feel no relief, nor should she. Victory hangs by a thread, delicate and fraying.
“Prepare the damaged Shorthair vessels for launch,” I command, my fingers flying over the controls. “Remotely operated.”
“At once, War Chieftain,” Corsark acknowledges, his voice steady, though the rapid clicking of his arcweave-plated fingers betrays his urgency.
A deep shudder reverberates through the walls as the ship banks sharply to starboard under my careful guidance. My gaze shifts to the immense viewport, where streaks of dazzling multicolored light ripple over the black marble surfaces like reflections on a restless tide.
Then, I see it.
At first, mere specks against the void. But as we surge forward, the specks become an ocean—a vast asteroid field, dense and unforgiving. Jagged shards of rock float aimlessly, their colossal forms ranging from drifting grains of space dust to towering remnants of shattered moons, as if Arawnoth himself had hurled mountains into the abyss.
My pulse quickens. My course is set.
Steering theRavager’s Ruininto that chaos at hyperspeed is a gamble so audacious it borders on madness. A single miscalculation, and we’ll be reduced to debris in seconds. Yet slowing down is not an option. Behind us, the Voidbanes and the Seeker swarm close in, their metal jaws poised to crush us if we falter.
Drexios lets out a sharp bark of laughter, his gaze flicking toward the viewport. “My plan was better,” he sneers, turningto me with that ever-present smirk. “At least the Scythians would’ve had toworkfor their kill.”
I barely hear him. My focus remains locked on the navigational display, my hands a blur over the controls as I calculate a path through the asteroid field. TheRavager’s Ruinand the Battlebarge have shields strong enough to withstand most impacts, but sheer brute force won’t be enough. Weaving through the shifting debris at this velocity pushes my reflexes to their limit.
“Corsark,” I order, passing the partially plotted course to his terminal, “have the Battlebarge follow these coordinates precisely. Maximum shields.”
“It will be done, War Chieftain,” he replies, a long inhale betraying the unease beneath.
Everything now hinges on the Scythians’ reaction. Will they pursue us into the field? Perhaps only the agile Seeker drones, leaving the larger Voidbanes waiting beyond? Or will they recognize the trap and hold back, letting patience be their weapon? If they do, then we are already dead—just debris waiting to be scattered on the solar winds.
I gamble on their desire for revenge, to kill. Let it draw them in. Let it blind their mechanical red lenses.
The asteroid field looms closer, brown-gray masses stretching and distorting as we hurtle forward. At these speeds, the jagged rock formations blur into streaks of dim light, making it impossible to tell where one ends and another begins. The deep hum of the shield generators rises as they reach maximum output. The display confirms the Battlebarge has fallen into perfect formation behind us.
And the Scythians... They adjust course.
They’re coming.
Their intent is clear now—intercept and annihilate.
