Tyrial groaned as he sat up, tapping his PA he silenced the alarm. He never really seemed to get along with beds very well. This one was no exception. He had slept fairly well for the two hours Rella had been there to keep him company. Once she had left to return to her post on the bridge, however, he had spent the rest of the time tossing and turning.

  Darkness and terror always seemed to wait just beyond his closed eyelids. No matter how much Rella soothed him while she was there, nothing she said seemed to make any difference when she wasn’t.

  Strangely the prospect of sneaking onboard a Conclave science vessel under the noses of two heavily armored Cruisers didn’t seem to bother him. Not as much as the nightmares that danced around his mind lately.

  Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed he sat up and looked at his PA again. Just time enough to take a shower. Stumbling over to the bathroom he did his best to remove the evidence of his sleepless ‘night’. Trying to sleep in what was normally the middle of his day certainly hadn’t helped matters.

  Once he was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, he checked his PA again. He still had a few minutes before he had to meet up at the cargo bay for the mission. He decided to head up to the bridge and see Rella one more time before he left. He would probably get a lecture on staying alive, but all things considered, maybe he needed one.

  Walking out of his quarters, he headed up to the bridge. Once their Tyrial found the young mage Jason sitting at the Mage station. For a moment Tyrial felt a pang of jealousy at someone else sitting in his coveted chair. The young man didn’t even have the decency to look awed at sitting in a chair instead of on the floor. Shaking his head, Tyrial let the feeling go and turned to where Rella was sitting in the command chair.

  Apparently hearing his approach, Rella stood and walked up to Tyrial as he turned to face her. “It’s time?” she asked.

  Tyrial nodded. He wasn’t sure what if anything he wanted to say. He didn’t want to say goodbye, that sounded far too depressing. Instead, he just smiled and said, “Ya, be back in a bit.”

  Smiling up at him, Rella leaned towards him and gave him a fierce hug. “You better,” she said into his chest.

  Looking over her head briefly, Tyrial saw the young Mage looking back at him with a look of intense jealousy on his face. Oddly the look made Tyrial smile. He didn’t like to think of himself as vindictive. At least not in the petty sense, but it made him feel better anyway. Payback for taking my seat, Tyrial thought.

  Stepping back from Rella, Tyrial was about to turn when she reached a hand out and grabbed his arm. “I mean it,” she said with an almost desperate look in her eyes, “come back. I need you.”

  Putting his hand over hers, Tyrial said, “I’ll do my best Rella, I promise.” Tyrial tried to put on his most confident smile. For once, it almost seemed as though it was working.

  Rella smiled back at him, then in a flash, she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Rocking back on her heels, she smiled mischievously at him for a moment, then turned back to her station.

  For a moment, Terial’s mind was having a hard time processing what had just happened. Then he noticed the slightly dejected look on the young Mage’s face and he wondered if maybe he had just been used as a scapegoat. Smiling to himself and shaking his head he decided he didn’t mind. If it made Rella happy, he was fine with it. Turning he walked back down the stairs from the bridge.

  Heading down the lift towards the cargo bay, he couldn’t stop his mind from running over that kiss. Even if he knew it didn’t mean anything, that didn’t do anything to put out the fire inside him it had ignited. He’d always thought he was done with that part of his life long ago, but suddenly he felt the desire for companionship again. Not just friends but something more. Shaking his head, he tried his best to put that aside. He needed his concentration for this.

  Stepping into the cargo bay, he looked again at the giant black brick they planned to fly into the science vessel’s exhaust port. No, fly was the wrong word, perhaps ‘crash into’ was more appropriate.

  Looking up from where he was studying a tablet, Gabriel smiled as he saw Tyrial walk in. “Glad you could make it,” Gabriel said.

  Glancing at his PA, Tyrial replied, “I’m only one minute late, blame Rella.”

  Chuckling, Gabriel put down the tablet he was holding. Turning to the others who had already gathered, he said, “You all know the plan, any last-minute questions before we get started?”

  Looking around, Tyrial saw everyone had already gathered. Kreshen stood by the capsule holding two massive auto-cannons, one for each set of hands. Next to him stood Sarah, the buts of pistols and rifles sticking up from her belt and over each shoulder. Assorted other devices, all looking military in origin, were hanging, pocketed, or otherwise attached to her person. She looked like a walking armory, which was quite a trick while standing next to Kreshen. Leaning into her was William, dressed as usual in his black trench coat. Tyrial was partial to trench coats himself but William never wore a stitch of color other than black or gray.

  Tyrial looked down at his own mostly black trench coat with white and green accents. Smiling to himself, he remembered Rella giving it to him a few days ago after having repaired it. Of course, it hadn't originally included the green accents but now that he was wearing it, he found he liked them.

  Standing apart from everyone else was the enigma. The Mage who was too old to be alive. Tyrial had never in his life seen a Mage with so many wrinkles and so much gray hair. He hoped he managed to live as long, but perhaps with just a touch less bitterness. The old man looked like he chewed nails for breakfast and spit rust for fun. Tyrial hoped he was more useful than he looked at first glance.

  Gabrial, upon getting no response to his question, continued, “Alright then, let's get this party started.” Suiting actions to words, he headed for the rear opening in the boarding pod. Tyrial followed with everyone else trailing along.

  Stepping through the opening, Tyrial found the insides to be almost as sparse and drab as the outside. Six seats lined either side of the pod, all facing towards the rear opening they were all walking through. One was oversized with extra straps, obviously meant for Kreshen. They looked like g-force absorption seats. Tyrial was not looking forward to the planned extreme deceleration they were going to attempt once they reached the exhaust port.

  “Alright everyone,” Gabriel said, “get strapped in.” Sitting at the seat farthest from the rear entrance, Gabriel tapped on the console attached to said seat. Tapping a few more times, he opened a comm to the bridge. “Rella?” he asked.

  “Here captain,” Rella replied over the commlink.

  “Alright,” Gabriel said, “I just ran the numbers one more time to make certain. We need to be going around fifteen hundred kilometers per hour relative to the science vessel, not much more than that.”

  “Understood Captain,” Rella replied.

  Tyrial sat in the seat next up from where Gabriel currently sat. Sitting facing the rear entry, he wasn’t able to see Gabriel behind him. The old mage sat in front of him, saying nothing as he strapped himself in.

  “Are you sure twenty-five G’s isn’t going to be a problem for you?” Tyrial asked of the Mage sitting in front of him.

  Snugging up his straps, the old man only snorted in reply. Tyrial leaned back into his own chair, it didn’t seem the old man was the talkative type. Delanor, that was his name. Tyrial remembered Gabriel mentioning it once while going over the plan in the mess. Tyrial didn’t like having to rely on an unknown for such a critical mission. Well, Gabriel seemed to trust him, at least he trusted his abilities anyway.

  The rushing sound of air announced the atmospheric ventilation system removing all the air in preparation for opening the cargo bay doors. As the air became thinner the sound faded off until nothing but silence followed.

  “Disengaging cargo bay gravity,” Gabriel announced.

  Suddenly Tyrial felt the weight of his body fall away, the straps of his seat the only thing holding him in place. A split second rumble sounded from below him as the pod’s thrusters gave them some vertical momentum. A second later a similar rumble sounded from above them as the pod centered itself in the now zero-G environment of the cargo bay.

  “Opening cargo bay doors,” Gabriel said.

  Tyrial heard nothing but saw the evidence of the doors opening as the light from the nearby star flooded into the small pod through the four small windows near the front of the craft. Glancing up, Tyrial noticed a mirror mounted above the rear entryway, through it he could see Gabriel and behind him through the small viewport, the opening cargo bay doors. Tyrial wasn’t really sure he wanted to be able to see where they were headed, but in morbid curiosity, he found he couldn’t take his eyes off of it now that he knew it was there.

  “Disengaging inertial dampers,” Gabriel said. A short pause later, he continued, “Alright Rella, we’re ready for departure. It’s comm silence from here on out.”

  “Understood,” Rella replied, “be careful. All of you.” She put extra emphasis on the last words which Tyrial knew were directed at him. He was just glad she didn’t call him out on it in front of everyone else. Honestly, he really didn’t see himself as being suicidal or anything. He was just unlucky when it came to the Conclave it seemed.

  Through the mirror, he could see they were slowly drifting out of the cargo bay. As they slipped past the doors, Tyrial wished he could have seen the Osiris as they left. It would have been a far more comforting sight than the empty blackness filled with nothing but the light of the nearby star that he could now see through the mirror.

  “Science vessel relative speed is currently one thousand five hundred and twenty-two,” Gabriel said. “That should do. We have about five hundred meters to decelerate once we reach the exhaust port, that should keep us well below the twenty-five G threshold.”

  Tyrial had only once before been subjected to anything close to twenty G’s and it had not been a pleasant experience. He was definitely not looking forward to their sudden stop. According to Liam, anything short of fifty G’s shouldn’t be fatal. That didn’t really make Tyrial feel any better.

  “Twenty three minutes until we reach the science vessel,” Gabriel said, “might as well get comfortable.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Sarah said from her seat next to Gabriel. “What if that science vessel decides to move. We’re not exactly in what you would call a maneuverable craft here.”

  “I told you earlier,” Gabriel said with a hint of exasperation in his voice, “that's why Tyrial is here. If it all goes pear-shaped before we hit the target he can Jump the entire pod to safety.”

  “Right,” Sarah said. “That won't be a problem, right Tyrial?”

  Tyrial could hear a touch of nervousness in her voice. “Sure,” he replied, “no problem.” He did his best to put confidence in his reply as well as keeping his natural sarcasm to himself, trying his best to keep the doubt from the hundreds of things he could think of that could go horribly wrong from creeping in.

  His reply seemed to suffice, or at least no one else decided to discuss the issue now that they were already traveling over a thousand kilometers an hour towards their destination. For the next twenty minutes, they all sat in uncomfortable silence. Like inmates waiting on their inevitable execution.

  Glancing at the mirror again, Tyrial could just make out a spec which must have been the science vessel they were heading for. That spec started to enlarge itself at an uncomfortably fast pace.

  “Two minutes,” Gabriel said quietly.

  Tyrial saw the spec begin to resolve itself as a loosely defined spaceship. As it began to take on more detail it slipped out of his view, likely somewhere behind the huge bulkhead door that took up most of the front of the pod.

  “One minute,” Gabriel said. It seemed that the situation was finally starting to have an effect on Gabriel as his voice was starting to sound a bit strained.

  “We’re on target, thirty seconds,” Gabriel continued, “prepare for deceleration. Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Mark!”

  Suddenly a deafening roar filled the small pod as the deceleration thrusters ignited straight to maximum. Tyrial was thrown violently into the back of his seat. He could almost feel his eyeballs trying to migrate into the back of his head. His vision became a watery blur that didn’t allow him to make out anything in the small mirror across from him.

  Before his mind even had a chance to fully grasp what was happening to his body, the world exploded into a thunderous boom. His vision had gone completely black and the only thing he could hear was the intense ringing in his ears. He wasn’t even certain that he was still breathing. As his mind finally started to reassert its hold on reality, his vision began to return as a non-distinct blur of color.

  Suddenly he felt everything moving, he began to panic thinking the pod had fallen apart on impact. Slowly he realized that someone was shaking him, as his hearing began to return he could almost make out the sounds of someone talking to him.

  “Tyr… you… us…,” the voice faded in and out at first. Tyrial shook his head and immediately wished he had not. The dull ache turned quickly into a sharp throb of pain. But with it also came some additional clarity. Squinting slightly, he could make out the shape of Gabriel standing in front of him.

  “Are you alright Tyrial?” Gabriel asked.

  Gabriel seemed to have a very concerned look on his face, at least Tyrial thought it was a concerned look. He was having a hard time distinguishing a face from cream pudding at the moment.

  “Ya, I…” Tyrial began. He swallowed a few times trying to hold back the nausea that suddenly hit him. “Ironically I… don’t do so well with G forces it seems.”

  “It’ll pass in a few minutes,” Gabriel said, moving off in another direction.

  Tyrial closed his eyes and rested his head back on the chair for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, his stomach settled back down and his hearing returned to normal. Opening his eyes he was pleased to see they still worked, looking around he noted that everyone else except for William and Sarah was already up and standing near the front of the pod. Glancing over at William, Tyrial saw Sarah hunched over him whispering quietly and gently stroking his cheek.

  At least Tyrial wasn’t the only lightweight on the mission. He still felt a little ashamed that the old man was dealing better with the trip than he was. Taking a deep breath, Tyrial unbuckled himself and stood. The gravity holding his feet to the floor could only mean they must have hit their mark. Holding onto the chair he gave his equilibrium a moment to stabilize then walked over to where everyone else was standing by the front bulkhead of the pod.

  “— won’t open without some manual intervention,” Gabriel was saying to Kreshen.

  The large Tartarin looked at the bulkhead, then cracked all twenty of his knuckles. Standing in front of the large bulkhead, he slammed all four fists on the four corners of the bulkhead, then grabbed them. With obvious exertion and a growl, he heaved on the door. It began to groan in protest, as Kreshen put more of his strength into moving the large bulkhead his growl became a yell. The door’s groan soon became a shriek as it began to move.

  With one last protest, the door gave way and swung open. Stepping back Kreshen was breathing heavily. Shaking himself, he walked back to the rear of the pod and began unstrapping his auto-cannons.

  “Hope no one heard that,” Tyrial muttered to himself.

  Glancing at the door, Sarah said, “Well, that’s not likely to seal again. I hope those escape pods are where you say they are.”

  “They will be,” Gabriel said. “I’m just glad the sealing mechanism worked. We hit the hull harder than I’d intended. And as for the noise, there shouldn’t be anyone anywhere near this section of the ship.” In a low mutter, he finished, “Definitely going to have to have a word with Zin’dar about those deceleration boosters.”

  “Don’t bother,” Sarah said, unstrapping her own equipment and attaching it to herself. “You know he’ll just say it was your fault.”

  Grunting, Gabriel continued inspecting a tablet he had removed from under his seat a few seconds ago. Once he was satisfied with what he saw, he glanced back at what the open bulkhead at the front of the pod now revealed. A small round indented service hatch with a corroded locking mechanism.

  Pulling a small square package from under his seat, Gabriel attached it to the lock mechanism. Tapping some keys on a small control unit attached to the package, he turned and tucked himself behind his seat. Glancing at everyone else looking at him he said, “Might want to take some cover.”

  Realizing the package was probably an explosive, Tyrial quickly huddled down behind his own chair. He noticed that Sarah had helped William down behind his chair and was wrapping him up with her own body. Kreshen didn’t even bother to try and hide behind his chair, he just moved to the back of the pod and turned his back, covering his head with his hands.

  With a loud thud, the explosive detonated. To be honest, Tyrial was surprised it wasn’t much louder. That much power in such an enclosed space should have been deafening or worse. Looking up he saw the package still sitting over the locking mechanism of the door. Gabriel stood from his crouch and walked up to the hatch. Inspecting his work, he said, “Kreshen, would you mind ringing the doorbell?”

  “Certainly,” replied Kreshen. Walking up to the hatch, he leaned back and gave it a solid kick with his booted foot. With a rush of air, the hatch swung open, revealing only darkness beyond.

  With a quick peck on William's lips, Sarah rushed to the newly opened hatch and dove through it, disappearing into the blackness beyond. A few tense seconds later, Sarah's disembodied voice echoed into the pod, “All clear.”

  One at a time, starting with Gabriel, they all climbed through the round opening into the Conclave science vessel. Kreshen came last, handing his immensely heavy autocannons one at a time to Sarah and Gabriel. The two strained just to lower them quietly to the floor out of the way of the opening. Kreshen himself had to wiggle carefully to fit through the opening.

  Tyrial looked around the dark interior he found himself in. The area was large and empty, every footstep creating an eerie echo. At least the air was breathable, if a bit stale. The darkness certainly didn’t help the creepy atmosphere. Now that he was out of the brightly lit boarding pod, however, his eyes began to adjust to the dull glow that pervaded the unused cargo bay. He realized that's what they were in, an unused interior cargo bay.

  It was difficult to imagine a ship so incredibly large that it had unused sections almost as large as the entire Osiris itself. Tyrial had glanced at the schematics that Gabriel had of the ship, so logically he knew how large it was. Standing in such a beast personally, however, brought it to an entirely new reality. Tyrial noticed that every footstep was stirring up large billows of dust from the floor. It seemed this cargo bay hadn’t seen any movement in a long time.

  “Everyone all set?” asked Gabriel.

  Seeing nods from everyone, Gabriel produced a small cube from his pocket. Taping it, it produced a small hologram of the ship’s schematic. Scrolling through the image, Gabriel inspected a few areas. Tapping the cube again, he dismissed the image and returned the cube to his pocket. “This way,” he said shortly, then began walking.

  It took them almost a full two minutes to reach the other side of the immense cargo bay. Another minute walking along the far wall finally brought them to the access door they were looking for.

  “Where are the people?” asked Tyrial.

  “Are you that eager to meet some Conclave?” replied Gabriel.

  “Not particularly,” Tyrial said, “but this place is as empty as a ghost ship. Are you sure it isn’t deserted?”

  “Very certain,” Gabriel replied. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find you plenty of Conclave to play with once we get to the quarantine lab.”

  The old man… chuckled? Tyrial had not heard much from him the entire trip. If Tyrial didn’t know better, he would have said that Delanor almost looked… eager.

  “Not really what I meant,” Tyrial muttered. Despite how he felt about the Conclave, his bloodthirsty habits had begun to feel like a lifetime ago. Now he just wanted to get what they had come for and get out in one piece.

  Opening the access door to the cargo bay, they proceeded down a similarly poorly lit and empty hallway. Tyrial noticed as they moved from hallway to hallway that the thick dust they had been stirring up as they went was slowly becoming thinner.

  Somewhere around the fifth door, however, things changed considerably. As they had been doing up to this point, Sarah stood off to one side of the door, Gabriel on the other. Kreshen stood directly behind it, both autocannons pointed at the door. Gabriel tapped the access panel, directing the door to open. Unlike all of the previous doors, however, when this one opened, bright artificial light spilled into their dark dimly lit hallway.

  Kreshen immediately dropped to one knee, squinting into the bright light of the hallway beyond. To his credit, he kept his finger off the trigger. Sarah waited for a moment for her eyes to adjust, then slid into the hallway beyond. A few seconds later, she appeared in the doorway again and said, “All clear.”

  As everyone moved into this well-lit hallway, Tyrial noticed that the floors were almost completely free of the dust they had been trailing through up to this point. It seemed they were leaving the unused portions of the ship near the engines and moving into the occupied sections.

  “It should go without saying,” Gabriel said, “that everyone needs to be extra cautious at this point.”

  Progress became slower as they traversed the well-lit hallways. Each doorway was treated as though a contingent of Conclave soldiers stood behind it. Despite the obviously recent occupation of the areas they were moving through, however, they did not encounter anyone.

  At one point, William held up his hand and then pointed to a service panel on the side of one of the hallways. Gabriel inspected his holographic schematic for a moment, then nodded. Sarah and Kreshen took up positions on either side of the panel, then William and Gabriel carefully removed it from the wall.

Behind the panel were various wires, conduits, and circuits. Waving his hand over the components slowly, William concentrated for a moment. Finally lowering his hand he shook his head. “No primary systems,” he said. “We’ll need to get closer to an actively used area.”

  Nodding, Gabriel helped William replace the panel. Once in place, they moved on down the hallway.

  Four hallways later, as they were about to pass a closed door, Kreshen sharply raised his hand and stopped. Everyone stopped moving, even in mid-stride, practically holding their breath. Tyrial had been standing almost directly behind Kreshen. He strained for a moment, trying to determine what had caused the Tartarin to stop.

  Faintly, from behind the closed door they stood outside of, Tyrial could just make out the sound of… giggling? Silence followed for a moment, then the sound of someone moving around. Everyone really did hold their breath at that point, Kreshen very slowly and carefully turned towards the door, aiming his two massive autocannons in its direction.

  A few more seconds of silence followed the movement, then the ghostly giggling wafted out from the door again. Tyrial could just faintly hear a female's voice from behind it, “don’t … not … caught …”

  A slightly louder male's voice followed, “Don’t worry, no one ever comes down here. Just take them off, please?”

  Beginning to realize what was going on behind the door, Tyrial smiled slightly. Motioning to Kreshen, he pointed further down the hallway. Nodding, Kreshen carefully turned back towards the hall and slowly crept along it.

  Everyone else stepped very quietly down the hall until they had reached and passed the next doorway. Taking a moment to breathe, Gabriel said, “We really need to find a live access panel.”

  “I haven't stopped looking,” William said. Although William looked a little stressed, he was also smiling. Probably in no small part due to the mischievous grin Sarah was shooting his way.

  Nodding, Gabriel straightened up and after briefly consulting his schematic, motioned them to follow down yet another empty hallway.

  Two doors later, as they stood in front of a third preparing to open it, the unwelcome sound of an opening doorway drifted down the curved hall to them. Glancing down the hallway, Tyrial could not see the source past the curve. Without waiting for Sarah or Kreshen to get into position, Gabriel tapped the control panel on the door in front of them and hurriedly motioned everyone to get through it.

  As Gabriel tapped the controls on the other side to close the door, a voice echoed down the previous hallway to them, “Hello? Is someone down —.” The voice cut off as the door closed. Looking at the rest, Gabriel motioned them to follow him. He quickly moved to another door and again without waiting for Sarah or Kreshen, opened it. Two doors later he finally stopped for a moment, breathing heavier than the brisk walk accounted for.

  “William?” Gabriel asked with a slight edge to his voice.

  William looked around briefly at the hallway they were in, then shook his head. “This isn’t part of the primary hub,” he said. “I have a pretty good idea of how the hub is connected now, here, let me show you.” Walking up to Gabriel, he inspected the holographic schematic that Gabriel had just produced again. Pointing, he said, “This is the closest primary hub according to the wiring I’ve seen to where we are now, we’ll need one of these hallways that intersects it.”

  Looking at the schematic for a moment, Gabriel said, “Alright, it's a little bit of backtracking but at this point, I think it’ll be worth it.” Putting the hologram away again, Gabriel said, “Let's keep moving, this way.”

  As they proceeded down another string of indistinct hallways, Tyrial couldn’t believe how unremarkable the construction of this ship was. He had been on a lot of human ships before, some fairly large ones. He had never seen one, however, with so many identical unremarkable hallways. Perhaps there were more interesting things behind all the doors they passed, but the only way he knew they weren't going in circles was based on the numbers above each doorway they took. That and the cleanliness of any given hallway. The dust was all but disappearing now.

  As they moved down another hallway that looked like all the rest, William stopped and indicated a panel on the side. Tyrial couldn’t tell what made that panel more distinct than any of the hundreds of others they had passed, but William could apparently tell.

  Again, Kreshen and Sarah set up positions on either side of the panel while Gabriel and William carefully removed it. Behind this one were more wires, circuits, and conduits. Tyrial did notice, however, that the circuits behind this panel had a great deal more blinky lights on them. He wasn’t certain if that was in any way important but at least it was different than the last one.

  Leaning forward, William waved his hand slowly over the assorted circuits and wires. This time, however, his face began to show a small smile. “This will do,” he said finally. “I’ll need about three minutes.”

  “For what,” grumbled the old man standing behind Tyrial.

  Tyrial almost jumped out of his own skin. The old man talked so seldomly that it was a surprise when he did, Tyrial had almost completely forgotten he was even there. Swallowing hard, Tyrial did his best not to look like he had been discarding the older man's presence.

  “To hack into the ship's security system,” William said. “Weren't you listening to the briefing?”

  Apparently having already expended his entire vocabulary, the old man just grunted.

  William apparently hadn’t expected an answer to his question, as he had turned his head back to the problem at hand without waiting for one. Reaching into his various pockets, William produced several small and medium-sized devices with clips, clamps, hooks, and other attachment mechanisms on them. In less than a minute he had all the aforementioned devices connected to one thing or another amongst the circuitry behind the panel.

  Tyrial liked to think he had a somewhat solid understanding of technology and basic starship design, given how many he had spent time on. But he had no idea how William knew exactly what each wire or circuit did just by glancing at it.

  A few minutes later, William had a satisfied smile on his face as he tapped away at controls only he could see. “There,” he said, “I’m into their security system. Looks like we haven't tripped anything so far. As we thought, security is fairly sparse on a science vessel. That’s good I suppose but it also means I’m going to have a very hard time tracking potential enemies until we get closer to the labs.”

  “Anythings better than nothing,” Gabriel said, “let's get moving. Every second we're here is one second two many.”

  “Cheers to that,” Tyrial muttered.

  Gabriel and Sarah moved to the open panel while William stepped back, still taping at his invisible controls. As the two were putting the panel back where it came from, Tyrial noticed that the small smile that had been on Williams’s face was quickly turning into a frown.

  “We have a problem,” William said briskly. “Someone's moving down the adjacent hallways in our direction.” He indicated back the way they had come. “Also, there are two stationary individuals two hallways further on.” He indicated the direction they had been going. Further taping on his controls his frown deepened, he said, “I don’t see any potential hiding spots. We're going to need to deal with one direction or the other I’m afraid.”

  Kreshen hefted his two autocannons and looked at Gabriel. Gabriel, however, shook his head and looked at Sarah. Nodding, Sarah reached over her back and grabbed one of her rifles. From her belt, she removed a short cylindrical silencer which she attached to the end of the rifle. “Which one?” she asked.

  “The one moving towards us,” Gabriel said. Then motioned everyone else to head further up the curving hall.

  Tyrial could just barely see Sarah from where he stood. He saw her crouch down against one side of the hall, one knee on the floor. Carefully aiming her rifle back the way they had come, she waited.

  William continued to monitor his systems, at one point he raised his hand and then slowly lowered it in the direction they had come. As his hand came level with the rest of the hallway, Tyrial heard the distinctive sound of a doorway opening.

  Tyrial had spent the majority of his life hating the Conclave and everything they touched. But for some reason, he was just as glad he couldn’t see where the poor bastard coming down the hallway was going to be shot. It just didn’t seem right, even for a Conclave, to end someone without giving them at least a few seconds warning so they could make peace with whatever maker they believed in.

  A very quiet but distinctive report emanated from Sarah’s rifle, indicating that the Conclave that had been coming up behind them was no longer an issue. Standing, Sarah removed the silencer from her rifle and replaced it on her back.

  Gabriel took another look at his schematic and asked William, “Can we still use our originally planned path to the labs?”

  Tapping on his controls for a few seconds, William nodded, “We should be able to get to the service ways without too much trouble. We may need to uh… move the uhh...“ He pointed back the way they had come.

  Nodding, Gabriel motioned to Kreshen, “If you would, try not to get too much blood on the floor.” Looking back to William, he said, “Can you find us an unoccupied closet?”

  Ten minutes and one disposed body later found them traversing hallways that were finally starting to look different from one another. Many had missing panels on the walls now or miscellaneous engineering parts off to the side. Finally, they came to a large bulkhead.

  “Welcome to service department D six,” Gabriel said. Looking at William, he asked, “Any occupants?”

  William shook his head, “Security logs indicate it's been empty for days.”

  Nodding, Gabriel tapped the access pad and walked into the large cluttered room beyond. Tyrial followed along with the rest. For a Conclave science vessel, this place looked like a mess. Circuits and wires littered the floor in small piles. Several consoles around the room were covered with boards and boxes of varying sizes. One corner of the room was dominated by a large construct that looked like some kind of central control module for the engines.

  Gabriel appeared to know what he was looking for though, walking to the other side of the room, he moved some junk out of the way to reveal a small bulkhead against the wall. Tapping another access panel, he opened the bulkhead and crouched to step through it.

  Following, Tyrial crouched through the opening and looked around. The small room beyond was mostly empty. The walls were covered in exposed circuits and wires. Only two things made this room remarkable. One was the ladder on one side, the other was the lack of a ceiling. Looking up, Tyrial could not see the other end of the ladder.

  “Fun,” Tyrial said, eyeing the ladder with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

  “It’s either this,” Gabriel said, “or wade through a few hundred Conclave officers.”

  “I’d take the Conclave,” the normally quiet old man grumbled with something verging on eagerness.

  “Come on,” Gabriel said, “the sooner we get started the sooner we’ll be there.”

  As Tyrial stood at the base of the ladder waiting his turn to get started, he watched Kreshen squeeze through the undersized opening into the small room dragging his massive autocannons after him. Once he was in, he stepped to the side and lay his autocannons on the floor. He then reached back and flicked open a few hooks on the back of his gear. Picking the autocannons back up, he carefully lifted them one at a time over his shoulders and hooked them on his back. Shaking his head, Tyrial saw that it was his turn and started to climb.

  For the next thirty minutes, they traversed ladders, catwalks, and hallways. Slowly they wormed through the internals of the ship's service ways towards their goal. For the entire time they spent in the service ways they didn’t detect any signs of life, human or otherwise. A few times they had to backtrack around a physical obstruction. At one point William called a halt indicating that high levels of radiation were emanating from a piece of broken equipment. They had to backtrack for almost five minutes to get around that.

  Making their way across yet another narrow catwalk suspended over a chasm filled with wires and circuits, Tyrial was becoming convinced they were never going to make it out of this nightmare. Finally making it to the end of the catwalk, Tyrial found himself in another small room. This one looked much like the one they had first stepped into, right down to the ladder on one wall climbing up into oblivion. Tyrial eyed it with something close to active hostility.

  “No worries,” Gabriel said looking at Tyrial’s expression, “We’re here.” He indicated a small bulkhead door on one side of the small room.

  Tyrial’s heart almost leaped out of his chest at the thought of getting out of the dark, dingy, dusty service ways. Then he began to consider what they had planned next.

  William walked up to the bulkhead door and stood tapping on his controls for a moment. “Looks clear into the next room,” he said. “Another small service bay. Beyond that, however…” He looked at Gabriel for a moment, a grim expression on his face.

  “What,” Gabriel said, “out with it.”

  “Well,” William said somewhat ruefully, “I won't need to guess which lab has the artifact. It’ll be the one surrounded by a full fifty man contingent of Conclave elite guards.”

  “Well, that’s it then,” Gabriel said. “Stealth is no longer an option. Looks like you're going to get to use those autocannons after all Kreshen.” Turning to look at the old man who was standing quietly off to one side, Gabriel said, “Well Delanor, this is your specialty, are you up for it?”

  An evil light had begun to smolder in the old man’s eyes when they had first started discussing the situation. At Gabriel’s words that light exploded into a burning fire. A slow smile crept onto his face and in a low grumble he said, “Let the bodies hit the floor.”

  Tyrial had originally thought when he had first met Delanor that a smile would have gone a long way in improving his face. Tyrial realized now how very very wrong he had been. Between the smile and the light burning in the old man’s eyes, he looked like some kind of mystical devil incarnate. Tyrial felt a chill slowly work its way up his spine, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the elite Conclave guards they were about to face. Looking at the manic anticipation on the old Mage’s face, Tyrial had the distinct impression that he and the old Mage used to have more in common than he was comfortable with.

  “Alright then,” Gabriel said, quickly turning back to his schematic. It seemed as though even Gabriel was uncomfortable with the level of excitement the old man was showing for the imminent battle.

  “Kreshen, you and Sarah take the north wing. Do your best to push them hard. The escape pods are about one hundred meters in that direction so we’ll need to clear that hallway. Delanor, you take the south wing. You don’t need to go nuts, just keep them off our backs.”

  “Sure,” the old man said, sounding almost impatient with his twisted smile.

  Ignoring the comment, Gabrial continued, “William, you’ll follow Tyrial and I towards the lab entrance. Once there you’ll need to bypass the security system to get us into the quarantine room. After that, you stay outside and make sure you can secure the codes for those escape pods. Tyrial, you and I will retrieve the artifact and deal with any Conclave in the lab itself. Everyone clear? Any questions?”

  Everyone either kept silent or shook their heads. Nodding, Gabriel tapped the console for the small bulkhead and everyone filed out into the slightly larger service bay beyond. This service bay was much cleaner than the first one they had entered the service ways from. Shelving held most of the circuits or devices on the walls. The floors looked to be recently cleaned and the consoles around the room were free of clutter.

  Stepping up to the larger bulkhead door on the other side of the room, Tyrial took a deep steadying breath. Kreshen stepped up beside him, holding his two massive autocannons. The Tartarin looked as stoic as ever, if he was nervous about the upcoming confrontation he didn’t show it. Sarah and William were standing to the side of the room, their heads together, whispering to each other. Gabriel stepped up to Tyrial’s other side. Looking at him briefly, Gabriel gave Tyrial a quick nod then turned back to the door.

  Tyrial glanced behind him to see William and Sarah stepping apart from a kiss and moving to join the rest of the group. Behind them all stood the old man, the twisted smile still on his face. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looked to be breathing heavily. Tyrial just hoped he didn’t become a liability. Tyrial could remember being filled with rage almost that hot, he also remembered how little regard he had had for his own crewmates when it came to killing Conclave.

  “Ready?” Gabriel asked everyone. Sarah drew two very large pistols, while Kreshen flipped the safeties off on his autocannons. Taking that as a yes, Gabriel reached forward and tapped the button on the bulkhead access panel.

  Tyrial watched almost in slow motion as the door opened. Two conclave guards were standing on the far side of the hallway as the door opened. Their heads had only just started to turn in the group's direction when two small flashes of plasma whizzed past Tyrial striking both men in the forehead. The guards slumped to the ground, lifeless eyes only just now starting to register the surprise of what they had seen.

  Glancing at Sarah, Tyrial saw a surprised look on her face. Just as he began to wonder why, the realization hit him. Those plasma bolts had only made a noise for him. Which could only mean the source hadn’t been a pistol.

  With a mad cackle, the old man leaped into the hallway ahead of them. Glancing in both directions, he raised his hands and sent bolts of plasma whizzing down the hallway in both directions. As the cackle became a maniacal laugh, he dashed down the hallway to the right. Tyrial could hear the sounds of surprised shouts and desperate commands echoing up the hallway from where the old man had run.

  “Let’s move!” Gabriel shouted.

  Suiting actions to words, Gabriel dashed out into the hallway and dove across it to the other side, pistol in hand. Kreshen and Sarah shared a quick glance, then Sarah dove out into the hallway herself. She tucked into a roll and came up guns blazing down the hallway to the left. Kreshen stepped out into the hallway himself, not bothering to dive, duck, or roll. He just pulled the triggers on his autocannons.

  With a deafening roar, the autocannons let loose with a torrent of hot plasma. The surprised shouts from Sarah’s initial burst of fire quickly turned to screams as Kreshen’s deluge effectively suppressed any thoughts of retaliation.

  Tyrial glanced quickly down both directions of the hallway. To the right, he could see no sign of any Conclave guards or the old man. He could only just barely hear the faint echoes of Will Power the man had used on his mad dash. To the left Tyrial could see Kreshen steadily advancing on the quickly retreating guards, autocannons blazing.

  Taking a deep breath, Tyrial drew on his Will. He spread it around himself and his crewmates to make sure no enemy Mage’s could affect them or their immediate surroundings, the old man was on his own. That done he moved quickly across the hall to join Gabriel with William less than a step behind him.

  On the other side of the hall, Gabriel was tapping on a console next to a large set of double doors. Just as Tyrial and William arrived, the doors opened. Glancing down the short hallway the doors revealed, Gabriel said, “In here.”

  Tyrial and William followed Gabriel into the short wide hallway. Less than ten meters from the first set of double doors stood another much thicker set. There were no windows in this second set and they appeared to be thicker than an airlock. Crouching down on one side of the hallway, Gabriel said, “Alright William, your up.”

  William, who had crouched down next to Gabriel, glanced at the doors then at the controls only he could see. Taping and wiggling his fingers furiously, he stared into what seemed to be empty space for over a minute.

  Tyrial couldn’t hear the noise of the old man's Will anymore, it had been fairly quiet to start with even when he had been standing right next to him. Tyrial wished he knew how the old man had created self-contained plasma packets by Will alone. So far as Tyrial could tell they were almost indistinguishable from regular plasma bolts generated by a high powered rifle. That included the very handy feature of not needing Will to maintain them and being impervious to Raganacite once launched.

  Shaking his head, Tyrial glanced at the extremely thick double doors. Out of curiosity, he expanded some of his Will towards and beyond the doors. As he did so another chill worked its way up his spine, this one much worse than the last. Ragnacite. Not just in the doors, but so far as he could tell, covering the entire chamber beyond.

  “Gabriel,” Tyrial said, his voice less steady than he would have liked, “Theirs Ragnacite. A lot of it. Seems to be covering the entire room beyond those doors, doors included.”

  Glancing at Tyrial, Gabriel nodded, then said, “Alright, plan B. You stay out here with William, you’ll be of no use in a room covered in Ragnacite.”

  Tyrial felt as though he should have argued the point, but he figured from outside he could at least cover Gabriel using projectiles. To that end, Tyrial looked around for some debris to use. Given Kreshen’s liberal use of his autocannons and their generally indiscriminate targets, there was plenty of debris to be had. Using his Will he scooped up some of the smaller particulates from several locations and dragged a twenty-centimeter ball of various bits over to the hallway. Gabriel only glanced briefly at his collection, a smile on his face.

  “Alright,” William said, breaking his long silence, “I almost have the door. One small problem, I can only override the security for about a minute, maybe less. You’ll need to get in, get the artifact, and get out. If you get stuck in there I don’t know how long it will take to get the doors open again.”

  “Understood,” Gabriel said. “Tyrial, cover me from the entrance…. Tyrial?”

  Tyrial had barely heard anything after William had started to explain the problem with the door. His ears were almost ringing from the sounds neither of the other two could hear. That old man was far more powerful than Tyrial would have given him credit for.

  “Mages,” Tyrial said, still distracted by the noise. “Four of them I think, one must be the old man.”

  “Four…” Gabriel said, the first note of worry creeping into his voice that Tyrial had heard the entire mission.

  “Three,” Tyrial said. “Three now. What was his name again? Delanor? He’s strong… Maybe stronger than me.”

  “Strong yes,” Gabriel said, a tight grimace on his face, “but extremely unpredictable.”

  “Also like me,” Tyrial said, a slight hint of self-recrimination in his voice.

  “Not anymore,” Gabriel said, the grimace being replaced by one of genuine trust. “You are a dependable man now Tyrial, I would trust you with my life.”

  In that moment, Tyrial could not have explained what he was feeling to save his life. Surprise, pride, maybe even some happiness. Whatever it was, it was a feeling that made him both happy and terrified all at once. There was no feeling more amazing than living up to the expectations of someone you admired nor more terrifying than the fear of failing them.

  “Times running out gentleman,” William said quietly.

  “Right,” Tyrial said, “those Mages are headed back this way, we need to get moving for those escape pods.”

  Nodding, Gabriel said, “Alright, let's do this. William, on my mark.” Standing, Gabriel placed himself in a low crouch at the center of the door. “Tyrial, if you’ll provide some covering fire.”

  Tyrial used his Will to pick small bits and pieces from his pile of debris. Lining them up above Gabriel’s head, he stood ready a meter or so behind Gabriel.

  Glancing back, Gabriel saw the floating debris, then turned back to the door and said, “Three… Two… One… Mark!”

  On his mark, the doors sprang open. Tyrial immediately saw two surprised guards on either side of the door beginning to turn towards them. He fired off one projectile for each, the Raganacite doing nothing to impede the momentum of the flying objects. With two solid thunks both guards began to fall to the floor.

  Without waiting to see if the guards had been dealt with, Gabriel began to dash into the mostly empty room beyond. Tyrial could see a pedestal in the center of the room. On top was a small metallic sphere that glowed slightly silver. Tyrial saw four other guards around the circumference of the room, he sent projectiles to deal with each. Gabriel was almost halfway to the pedestal by now.

  With an animalistic roar, an enormous guard vaulted over the artifact and headed straight for Gabriel. Tyrial tried to get a line of sight on the guard but Gabriel was directly between the guard and the hallway. He couldn’t launch anything without the risk of hitting Gabriel, particularly since he couldn’t alter the trajectory once he fired it.

  The guard slammed into Gabriel, his momentum carrying both himself and Gabriel backward. Tyrial threw himself to the side as both the guard and Gabriel tumbled back through the open door and into the hallway.

  Picking himself back up, Tyrial discarded his projectiles, preparing to deal with the foolish guard directly since he had been so kind as to leave his protective Raganacite. As he gathered his Will, William shouted, “The door!”

  Turning, Tyrial suddenly remembered the time limit. Glancing back at Gabriel, he saw that he had the guard in a chokehold. The guard was quickly losing consciousness but Tyrial didn’t think Gabriel could regain his feet in time to make it back through the door.

  Holding his breath, as if that would somehow protect him from the Ragnacite, Tyrial dashed into the quarantine room. As soon as he stepped past the archway he felt his power weaken and the sphere of Will he had formed around himself vanished like a pricked bubble. Steeling himself he continued his mad dash towards the artifact. Glancing around quickly he noted with mild satisfaction that at least all of the other guards in the room were taken care of.

  Reaching the pedestal, he quickly reached out and grabbed the artifact. As soon as his fingers touched the cold metal the world dissolved around him. He felt as though he was falling into a bottomless pit. His vision faded and blurred, twisting into a sickening caricature of reality. He stumbled, somehow still standing while at the same time also falling.

  YOU ARE NOT THE ONE, an enormous voice bellowed into his head accusatorily.

  Tyrial stumbled backward, the artifact somehow still clutched in his hands. He couldn’t seem to keep his balance. It didn’t help that his vision continued to swirl and distort around him.

  YOU MUST FIND THE ONE, another voice boomed into his skull. This one sounded somehow different. Unlike the note of accusation from the earlier voice, this one carried a strong sense of command.

  Tyrial began to wonder if he was losing his mind. Perhaps the artifact had been covered in some kind of poison or hallucinogenic as a last-ditch security measure. Turning and almost falling, Tyrial could barely make out the door to the room. It still seemed to be open. Judging time in this state was almost impossible. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He could almost make out Gabriel in the hallway getting to his feet.

  “Ty… et… t….,” bits of words floated to him from outside the swirling maelstrom he waded through.

  PLEASE, PROTECT THE ONE, yet another voice shook the very fabric of his reality. Different from the other two, this one seemed to be almost feminine and pleading.

  He saw Gabriel moving towards him, he knew the door would close soon. No matter how hard he tried he just could not get his head to function correctly. He stumbled towards Gabriel for a second but realized he would never make it in time. With all his strength and remaining sanity, he hurled the artifact towards Gabriel.

  As soon as the cold metal left his fingers reality snapped back like shattering glass in reverse. He stumbled from the force of his throw but quickly caught his balance. He watched the artifact sail through the air towards the open door.

  Gabriel, who had already started a mad dash for Tyrial, saw the incoming artifact and slammed his feet down hard to stop his forward momentum. Realizing he was not going to be able to catch the wild toss, he threw himself backward to try and catch the artifact in mid-air.

  As Tyrial watched the artifact fly towards Gabriel’s outstretched hands, he realized he needed to be making a mad dash himself for the still-open door. He had no idea how much time had passed, to him it seemed like several minutes, but William had said they would have less than one.

  Getting his legs in motion, Tyrial managed to make it up to a flat out run in just a few strides. He saw Gabriel’s fingers close on the artifact as he flew backward from his desperate leap to catch the projectile. Tyrial watched as Gabriel cradled the artifact to his chest and fell onto his back in the hallway. He watched as the enormously thick double doors slammed shut less than half a meter in front of him. He watched as his forward momentum slammed him into the now-closed doors.

  His head ringing from the impact, Tyrial stumbled backward a few steps, then fell on his ass. He stared for a moment at the now-closed doors, his mind having trouble grasping the situation. Standing back up, he walked quickly back to the doors.

  With both hands, he grabbed what little of the seam he could and tried to pry the doors apart. He knew it was futile, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. Frustration poured through him. Not again, his mind screamed. Giving up on the doors he pounded his fists on them in pointless rage. Sliding down to his knees, his hands dropped to his sides and he let his head hit the closed door.

  Once again the Conclave had managed to screw him over. And this time he really didn’t see any possible way out of it. Seventy some odd years he had survived their best attempts to put an end to him, and now when he had just started to find a reason to live, they had almost managed to kill him no less than three times in the last few months. And now it looked like they might actually succeed. Of course, it always seemed that way lately, and he was still alive, but his mind refused to listen to such pointless optimism.

  Unbidden, thoughts of Rella floated through his mind. She would be crushed if he didn’t make it back. He still wasn’t sure why she depended on him so much, but he had stopped questioning the authenticity of her feelings.

  Thinking of her he somehow found the strength to stand again. Bringing her beautiful face front and center in his mind, he found the backbone to again listen to that little voice that said ‘Don’t give up now, you’re still sucking wind’. Looking at the door, he knew it was a lost cause. Everyone always said that Ragnacite was impervious, but then everyone said the Ancients were a myth, and he was pretty sure they had just talked to him.

  Thinking back on the voices he had heard while holding the artifact, he was fairly certain that hadn’t been a hallucination. If it hadn’t been the Ancients themselves, what else could it have been? No, if the Ancients could exist, then Ragnacite could be overcome.

  Concentrating Tyrial tried to form a pocket of his Will inside the room. No matter how hard he tried or how much of his Power he poured into it, he just could not get his Will to manifest. It was like trying to push a pin into a solid durasteel sphere, he just kept slipping off to the sides. Growling, he concentrated harder. If he could just put enough pressure on a single spot maybe he could get it to stick.

  He began to break out into a sweat. He couldn’t even hold very much of his Will due to being in such close proximity to the Ragnacite. Combine that with trying to overcome it and he just couldn’t make it manifest no matter how hard he concentrated.

  A sudden boom behind him made him jump. Turning he moved back to the door, a second later another boom followed. It didn’t sound like explosives, it sounded like… someone pounding on the door.

  Concentrating, Tyrial formed his Will outside the room where the Ragnacite did not reach. It took a lot of effort but he managed. Beyond the door, he could see Kreshen pounding on it with his bare fists. Beyond that he could see William and Gabriel, William appeared to be taping at thin air frantically. Beyond them stood Sarah and Delanor letting hot plasma fly down both directions of the intersecting hallway.

  Tyrial calmed himself and gathered more of his Will Power, straining hard against the Ragnacite that tried to hold his power at bay. He pushed his Will out farther and saw a huge wave of Conclave soldiers marching up the south hallway. The north wing didn’t look all that much better. Tyrial felt a push on his Will and realized that at least one of the Conclave Mages was still alive.

  Taking a deep breath in, he breathed out his frustration. His crewmates… No, his friends, weren't going to be able to save him this time. By the Void, Tyrial couldn’t even save them this time. They had to save themselves.

  Concentrating, Tyrial used his Will to generate photons from atoms of oxygen and nitrogen in the air. He’d used this trick a few times before to make simple illusions. Focusing, he caused a string of letters to appear in the air in the hallway beyond the door. Blinking red and white, they spelled out ‘Flee you fools’.

  When none of the people standing beyond the door started moving, Tyrial created a small gravity well to give them a push. Finally, Kreshen stepped back from the door and picked up his discarded autocannons. Moving back to the entrance of the short hallway, they fought their way out and back up the northern hallway. Towards the escape pods.

  Breathing out again, Tyrial finally let go of the last of his hope while he was at it. Looking around the room, he halfheartedly searched for some inspiration. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all solid durasteel. No holes, no access panels, nothing. Walking over to one of the walls, he knocked on it hard. The sound was oddly not quite as solid as that of the door. Maybe the walls were thinner. Not thin enough for him to dent though, despite a solid kick from his booted foot.

  Walking to the pedestal in the middle of the room, he sat down with it at his back, facing away from the door. Leaning his head back against the pedestal he sighed. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t overcome the Ragnacite. He’d tried that trick once before when he’d been captured. Believing you could find a weakness in that Void be swallowed material was just foolish optimism.

  It prevented any Mage from forming his Will in its presence just as thoroughly as another living Mage’s body would. As Tyrial’s mind turned to the morbid, a thought occurred to him. Even in the presence of Ragnacite, a Mage’s power could still affect their own living body. More than one Mage had committed suicide rather than be captured by the Conclave by exploiting that fact. As long as the Ragnacite wasn’t touching you, you could still get the last laugh.

  But no, a few years ago, he might have considered that option. Now? He just couldn’t bring himself to give up that thoroughly. The crew of the Osiris had stuffed too much damned hope into him for that.

  Thinking of the illusion he had made, he wished he could at least do that much in this room. At least it would have given him something to do while he waited for the Conclave to kill him.

  Suddenly an idea popped into his head. The walls weren't as thick as the door. And the Ragnacite only extended to just barely beyond the walls. He couldn’t affect anything in the room directly, but anything he created outside the room could still affect it. Like the gravity from a small singularity.

  He wasn’t sure if he could muster enough power to do what he had in mind, but he would be swallowed by the Void if he wouldn’t try. Standing back up, he moved around the pedestal, putting it between himself and the far wall. If nothing else, this would at least give the Conclave something else to think about than chasing his friends.

  Concentrating he gathered every ounce of Will Power he could manage. Pouring it all into a single point just past where the Ragnacite extended. With a shuddering groan, the metal beyond the walls began to distort. Soon even the walls began to bow outward. With a loud crack, a large section of the wall fell backward into what used to be the supporting structure.

  Tyrial could see conduit, wires, and circuits exposed by the now severely deformed wall. It wasn’t enough, he just couldn’t bring the singularity close enough. He tried to pour more of his Will Power into the construct but the Ragnacite was interfering too heavily with his ability. He tried moving the singularity slowly around the perimeter of the wall in the hopes he could damage enough of it that he could make an exit with his own two hands.

  Another groan resounded through the entire structure of the room, with another thunderous crack a large section of the ceiling collapsed to the ground less than a meter from where Tyrial was standing. Tyrial’s concern of the potential of raining ceiling panels was quickly overridden when thick white noxious gas began spewing into the room from the open ceiling.

  Coughing, Tyrial tried desperately to increase the power of the singularity so that it would draw the gas away from him. Unfortunately whatever he had broken to release the gas was doing so far faster than the feeble singularity he had created could affect it.

  Coughing harder, Tyrial began to lose what little concentration he had managed to put together and a few seconds later his singularity collapsed. Barely able to breathe, he tried again to gather his Will but the intense coughing and his rising panic wouldn’t allow him the necessary concentration.

  Slumping to the floor, he finally gave up on his Will as a lost cause. The air was a little less toxic this close to the ground but he could still barely breathe for all the fumes. As he lay there choking on the toxic gas and coming to terms with his imminent demise, he brought back images of the crew of the Osiris. He’d only been with them for a few months but they had grown more important to him than anyone else he had met over the last fifty some odd years of being an illegal Mage.

  Bringing one particularly beautiful face to mind, he finally succumbed to the gas as blackness consumed him.