“Get off my bridge, Syden,” said Hunt in a low, dangerous tone.

  “You get off my bridge, Hunt!” spat Syden. “I’m taking over. And get your hand away from that pistol or I’ll put a hole in your head!”

  Hunt grimaced and raised his hands to the level of his shoulders. “Now’s no time to spill blood.”

  “No,” said Syden sardonically. “Now’s the time to be throwing back some rum and holding our loved ones on Griffonia. But we can’t do that, because we’re stuck out here in the aether with a monster and a false prophet. So if it comes to spilling blood-”

  “Then it’ll be yours first,” said a deadly serious voice from the doorway.

  Syden swung around to see Vanbrook and Reclan standing at the entrance to the bridge. Vanbrook had his saber in one hand and was leveling his high caliber revolver at Syden with the other. Reclan stood firmly next to him, her rifle cradled in her arms and a small swarm of drones hovering over her shoulders. Syden’s partner put down his sidearm, and the group of sailors with him laid their weapons down as well. Syden’s face twisted into an enraged sneer, but his commonsense got the better of him and he put his weapon down as well.

  “Alright. All of you, to the brig,” said Hunt. “Reclan and Vanbrook will escort you. Cool off and be ready to apologize when I visit. I could jettison you into space for what you did, but I need all my sailors to accomplish what we’re trying to do here.”

  Syden shook his head. “You don’t even know what that is.”

  “All the more reason I need as much manpower as possible,” said Hunt.

  Vanbrook motioned with the barrel of his gun for the disarmed ruffians to follow him. Reclan let them pass and then fell in behind, her drones spreading out and boxing in the prisoners. One of them stepped a bit too far to one side and received a low-energy shock from a drone. Reclan smiled as the prisoner yelped and stepped back into line.

  “Excuse the interruption,” said Hunt, returning to his announcement. “The cause has been dealt with and is currently being escorted to the brig by members of Talon Squad.

  “Now, please hear this: it is true that this mission originated with D’Jarric, whom you all know to be a powerful and steadfast ally, and he is, indeed, a servant of the Progenitor. However, this mission is not a crusade. It is a mission to save our home from the further ravages of the Drakmundi invaders by crippling their army’s command structure. Regardless of our personal beliefs and creeds, we are all members of the Griffon Republic’s armed forces, and we will all fight to keep our Republic safe. I expect no further trouble from my crew.

  “Please be advised that we have identified a promising world where we hope to take on water and resupply. We will be making the jump to it shortly. Currently named DM176-WB0.89. We have used the designation “DM” for “Dragon’s Maw” as that was our last known point. The rest of the naming convention should be familiar to you. It is the 176th planet identified by our deep scanners after we arrived at this location, has both water and a breathable atmosphere, and it has a gravity approximately 0.89 times that of Griffonia.

  “You will be notified when the time for departure approaches. Until then, please report for your normal duties and go about your normal routines. We will defeat the Drakmundi, and we will return home. May Providence shine on us all.”

  ***

  Raivyn fell in behind a marble pillar at the front entrance of a large bank and hunkered down as a volley of energy fire hit on the other side. The long black overcoat felt foreign and unwelcome. She found it too large for her frame and felt that she looked like a child who’d stolen her mother’s coat. Of course, her main objection was the crimson crystal insignia embroidered on the shoulder patch, and the organization it stood for.

  Despite her misgivings about the uniform, she was happy to be helping to liberate Griffonia. Kerucester had been completely secured, and now forces had been dispersed to the other cities to liberate them, as well. Cook’s Bluff, the northern city Raivyn currently found herself in, had been hit particularly hard. The Drakmundi had overtaken the local Undercity, and were now an entrenched force. Clearing them had become a brutal door-to-door struggle for control, with beast soldier units regularly popping out of the ground in areas previously thought to be cleared.

  Leaning out from behind the pillar, Raivyn fired off a few shots from her sidearm. Only one of three rounds hit its mark, but a Drakmundi infantry soldier went down. She’d been saving her psychic energy for when she needed it most, and using her pistol for the smaller skirmishes.

  “Good shot!” said Yulun, her newly-minted partner. He was tucked away behind the corner of the bank, leaning out and firing his energy pistol. Wabulubans such as himself typically preferred weapons that had little to no kick. Their tentacles were strong, but didn’t displace recoil energy as neatly as bones did.

  “Thanks,” she answered joylessly.

  Grepk’s Marines exploded out of their cover across the street, deeming that the Drakmundi forces were sufficiently softened. Their dual-barreled energy and ballistic rifles tore through the remaining frontline, scattering the rest of the unit. Keshri launched herself at a fleeing foe who was firing his staff-like energy rifle over his shoulder. Firing her jetpack, she hit him full speed and slammed him into a building. Stone crumbled over them both, but only Keshri stood back up.

  “Easy, Kesh,” said Grepk with a laugh. “We’re trying to preserve the city, remember?”

  She shrugged and pulled her rifle off her back again, firing at another Drakmundi position in a window above the street.

  “Chatter indicates that the Drakmundi general we’ve heard so much about has taken refuge in the Cook’s Bluff Civic Center,” said Grepk, addressing his squad, the other two Marine squads with them and the RTS agents. “Think of it like a mini-Keep. It’s the most fortified building on the Bluff so it makes sense. It’s just ahead. Let’s go for shock and awe.”

  Grepk rose into the air along with the rest of the Marines, and they shot off together towards the Civic Center. Raivyn, Trebor, and Yulun followed behind. Creddik hesitated. He could shoot them in the back and run. He could even just run. Maybe it’d be a few moments before they knew he was gone. He licked his scaly lips, his brows knitting with internal conflict. He heard the distant roar of a beast soldier and decided it was best to play it safe. At least for now.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Utterly unaware of Creddik’s treacherous thoughts, Raivyn watched as twelve fully-armored Marines crashed through the remaining windows of the Civic Center, and flashes of light and peels of gunfire exploded through the open panes a split second later. The purple blasts of the Drakmundi weapons were drowned out by the red glow and yellow-white flashes of the Marine’s weapons.

  By the time the RTS agents reached the building, the atrium was clear. The large blast doors that were designed to keep enemies out had been damaged badly when the Drakmundi took the center, so they wouldn’t be too much of a hindrance for the Marines now.

  However, the enemy had decided not to wait for the Republic to make their way in, and the doors exploded out towards them. A couple unfortunate Marines were caught by the flying metal slabs as they hurdled through the ruined front of the building. When the dust settled, a half dozen beast soldiers could be seen, standing in a semicircle behind a tall Drakmundi male in a sleek silver headdress and a purple tabard. He held a staff weapon like the ones used by his infantry soldiers, but this one was producing a spherical purple shield that covered his entire form. The Drakmundi general spat a guttural command and the beast soldiers leapt from his side, attacking the Marines.

  “Agent Raivyn, that’s your cue,” said Trebor.

  “It’s Specialist,” she said, already concentrating on the nearest beast soldier. “I’m only on loan.”

  The RTS agents backed up, taking cover around the outside of the front entrance.

  Raivyn reached out towards the beast soldier’s mind and was immediately slapped back by a third mental presence. Her head snapped back and she shook it to clear her mind. Her eyes drifted towards the Drakmundi general, who was smiling maliciously at her.

  “I need some fire on the general!” she cried. “Creddik, how are you making out?”

  “Just got slapped down pretty hard,” said Creddik as the other agents trained their fire on the general.

  “Let’s hit that one together,” said Raivyn, indicating a nearby beast soldier already engaged with a couple of Marines. “Now!”

  She reached out again, feeling Creddik working with her, but once again she was slapped back by the general. Still grinning, his bubble shield simply deflected all the fire trained on it. Far from being a distraction to weaken his resolve, it seemed to amuse him. Creddik punched the wall in frustration.

  “New plan,” said Raivyn. “Cover me.”

  Charging into the building, she ran straight for the general, who recalled a nearby beast soldier to defend himself. An armored hand shot out, grabbing the beast soldier by the neck and yanking it up into the air. Slamming his prey into the ceiling and driving his cutlass into its torso, Krum-Bahk winked over his shoulder at Raivyn. She nodded a quick thanks without slowing down.

  A gout of flame erupted from the gem in the general’s forehead, and Raivyn dodged to the side, avoiding it. She pivoted back in towards the bubble and stepped inside it. The general’s grin faltered for the first time, but Raivyn’s lips curved up slightly. He tried to slam a T-bolt into her mind, but she brought up a psychic shield and blocked it.

  Frustrated, the Drakmundi general decided to put his physical prowess to work. This interloper was a good three feet shorter than him; he certainly didn’t need psychic powers to defeat her. He swung his staff with blinding speed and brutal strength, but she dodged in towards him, striking him in the stomach with a quick jab as she did.

  “Ow!” she cried, her fist impacting solid metal just below the cloth.

  The general laughed, pulling back his staff to stab at her and drive her away. She rolled away from the attack again, this time distancing herself from the general. She pulled her pistol and fired, the round pinging off the general’s forehead and ricocheting off the inside of the shield, ultimately bouncing off the general’s chest before tumbling to the ground.

  “Foolish little one-eyed child,” mocked the general. “You cannot hope to beat me.”

  Raivyn was surprised to hear the Drakmundi speak in Talpaertan, but didn’t let it show.

  “I did what I was trying to, though,” she said with a smirk. “Distract you.”

  Looking around, he saw that his beast soldiers were in disarray. The other psychic had cracked the defenses of one of them, and the Marines had taken back the initiative. His face twisted with rage as he turned back towards Raivyn, his staff raised over his head. She fired again, this time aiming for the glowing end of the staff. She twirled out of the way and let him bring it down onto the floor with a smash. The end shattered, and his personal shield flickered away. Raivyn emptied her weapon into the general. Her shots alone may not have accomplished much, but she was joined by enough Marines that the general was soon an unrecognizable purple mess.

  ***

  Trilia’s star tree landed in the gaping mouth of the massive metal serpent that had appeared in the skies above Koomia. As soon as it had appeared, she knew that it was the Drakmundi, come to form an alliance. A thrill coursed through her crystalline form as she stepped down onto the metal surface.

  She hoped when she caught wind of Hoon-Kra’s little cult that she could grow it into something truly special. But here she saw her wishes fulfilled. True, the “Drakmundi,” as they were called, had suffered a setback on Griffonia, but she was certain that it could be turned around. A tall, stately biological with orange skin and a cybernetic body walked into the hangar. She wore a purple tunic and tabard, a belt at her waist bearing the strangely familiar symbol of a serpent-like creature wrapped into a circle. The Drakmundi led her from the hangar through a series of rounded metal hallways in a large, open room. Trilia was beckoned to stand in the center of the room. She felt a strange trepidation about standing in the dead center, on a small panel that seemed just wide enough to swallow her whole if it were to give way. She took the small risk and did as she was asked.

  There was a whirring of machinery and a strange object was lowered by a series of cables and robotic arms. It was a severed head, evidently of the same species as the creature that had led her to this room. It seemed a strange offering.

  “Welcome to World Serpent Farbin, Trilia, High Priestess of Koo L’Koom,” said the head.

  Trilia was shocked, but masked her surprise carefully. “Thank you. And who might you be?”

  “I am World Serpent Farbin,” said the head indignantly. “You stand within my domain and within my body.”

  “I see, World Serpent,” said Trilia. “You must excuse my ignorance in Drakmundi matters.”

  “I will,” said Farbin.

  Trilia needed to tread carefully now. She could not risk making an enemy of the Drakmundi, but one wrong phrase could make her their servant rather than their master.

  “And I will, of course, excuse your ignorance of Koomite custom as well,” she replied.

  “I care little for the customs of those not of the Drakmundi,” spat Farbin.

  “Then why did you come here?” Trilia asked pointedly.

  “The Council sent me,” answered Farbin.

  “Then perhaps, World Serpent, I should be speaking to the Council, not to their messenger.”

  “Impossible,” said Farbin. “We cannot communicate with the Council until the new maw has been constructed.”

  “Well,” said Trilia. “My Koomites are at your disposal. You will have whatever help you need.”

  “I need no help,” said Farbin. “Return to your world. I will summon you when the portal has been built.”

  Trilia nodded. “You will not summon me, World Serpent. You will request my presence. Again, I will excuse your ignorance.”

  “So be it,” said Farbin in a tired voice. “I will request your presence, and you will grant it.”

  Trilia smiled, nodded, and returned to her star tree. That had gone better than expected.