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Chapter 8: Told by the Victors

  Chapter 8: Told by the Victors

  


  Mana – magical power – is the source of all of our success as a combined people. Once we learned to harness and store it, to channel it through devices instead of people, even the most mundane citizen could enjoy the comforts that mages had known for generations.

  – Prof. Bartholomew Etterson, Historian

  The captive did not seem inclined to fight back. Less informative than Apex would have liked, but better than nothing. Sallus had protested loudly when he’d insisted on bringing the survivor in, which had puzzled him, at first. In his long life, he had never worried too much about the lives of Lesser Folk, but neither was he bloodthirsty. To have Sallus argue the murder of one of her own kind was interesting, to say the least.

  This led Apexillos to only one conclusion: Sallus did not want him talking to anyone else. Perhaps she worried that he would find some moral objections to her plan, or that he would find out something that would distract him. That would make sense, as this Cult of Renewal seemed intent on tearing down an existing structure that had kept the Lesser Folk in relative peace for thousands of years.

  Amusement flickered through Apex over the idea that he would object. He held some grudging respect for what the Lesser Folk had achieved in his absence, but it was ultimately not something he cared about one way or another. He knew that the thirteen heroes were still here, or perhaps other bearers of the remnants of his Essence. Whomever now claimed it, he would take it back. That was all he cared about for now.

  He’d figure out what to do afterwards once he had reclaimed all his pieces.

  The dragon double-checked his readouts, now that he was getting used to what they could provide. This body still felt old and sluggish in many ways, but the odd advantages it provided were not something he intended to ignore. After scavenging what he could from the mangled corvette, he had set a course for the nearby port Sallus had indicated. Then, he’d shut off his thrusters once underway so that repair and refueling could occur during the trip.

  


  


  He’d lost one of the two tanks on the patrol ship, but the other had been almost full. What he had not been prepared for was the realization that the much smaller craft also had much less fuel. This was concerning, though… he had realized he was also far more massive, and even with the corvette’s lighter fuel load, it seemed to him that his own tanks should be much larger.

  “Is my fuel tank size sufficient?” Apex asked this over the intercom, as Sallus had finished the siphoning of the fuel from the corvette’s surviving tank, and was now doing an Extravehicular Activity along his side, attempting to repair the wing joint that had been frozen. He’d regained control of the booster on the wing, but it still wouldn’t fold.

  “Of all the questions you chose to ask, that is not the one I would have expected.” The elf didn’t look up from her inspection, but Apex could see her pause for a moment by using his side camera. “It is small for your size. The Draconis ships were built for show and intimidation. They were never meant for long range travel. We had to install the Etherglide Drive, and your two side tanks. It’s a known design flaw that they ran out of fuel very fast.”

  Apexillos rumbled to himself irritably. “That sounds like a serious problem for my plans. How long can I operate? We traveled here and fought a battle with only one twentieth of my capacity, but most of that was the travel.”

  This time, Sallus didn’t even pause to answer. “The Etherglide Drive uses a lot, but you don’t have to use it much. As long as you aren’t heavy on the boost thrusters, flight can last a while on your tanks. It’s the energy weapons and your plasma lance that eats power. And shield generators, if we can find some.”

  “Hmm… my targets are all very distant from here.”

  “You need to relax.” Sallus chuckled. “You’ll have to be careful, but for long trips we can mount external tanks or use your cargo bay. You just can’t up and go whenever you want. That presumes we find a way to refuel reliably though. Once they hear a Draconis ship is flying around, refueling at a port will be difficult.”

  Apex internally grumbled some more, but did not question that. He was distinctive, he got that. But this meant that he’d also have a hard time getting repaired, wouldn’t it?

  “Will we be able to find upgrades at this port?” That seemed imperative, to him. If he’d been launched with only partial completion, getting himself in peak fighting trim would be the next step before he challenged the heroes.

  “Unfortunately not,” Sallus replied with an audible, heavy sigh. “Replacement parts to get you fully operational, maybe patch up some of your armor, yeah. I’d like to bring on some crew, if they haven’t found the cell at this port, but this is just to refuel and restock basic supplies. We only have enough for a few weeks with just me. If we take on more prisoners or crew, that will go fast. I’ll think of something to fix your mana circuits and weaponry. You’re no use to me like this.”

  He considered asking about her ability to work on his frame, but thought better of it. Sallus had been hard at work with repairs all day, and had only slept a few hours in the last two days. He thought he remembered elves needed less sleep… or was that gnomes? Lesser Folk had never been his area of study, and while he was sure he’d known it at some point, his memories were still a little jumbled. Better by the hour, but not clear-headed yet.

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  It was still several hours before Apex would reach the coordinates that Sallus had given him. The hard burn had put him at a high velocity – apparently this was rough on both crew and his systems, even with inertial compensation – but continuing the burn would strain his systems a lot more. He needed the repairs and maintenance badly, but the slower trip gave him more time to think and clear his head.

  It had been less than two days since he’d been yanked from his painful death into this mechanical corpse of a body. Much of that time had been adjusting to the systems, sorting his jumbled thoughts, and fighting for his life. He’d been too confused to take advantage of the Etherspace trip, so this was the first chance he’d had to approach things in a calmer, collected manner.

  His body ached. It did not feel pain in the same way as his old flesh and blood body did, but it still registered damage in some way. The hole in his side from his initial escape had been repaired, but the armor plating was still missing. His wing was being repaired, but he was pretty sure it would not maintain the same flexibility as it had possessed previous to the mana blast.

  Worse, the entire frame just throbbed. He’d forced a spell through what Sallus had called the mana circuits, and it had nearly destroyed them. Life without the ability to cast magic was already harsh enough, but in this shell of a body it was even worse. He’d have to learn to leverage the advantages this body had, and quickly.

  But first, he had to follow up with some questions.

  He swapped to a view of Naven’s quarters. They were simple quarters – two bunks, a table and chairs, lockers. Basic living accommodations. Naven had peeled his shirt off and was inspecting it, but had not bothered trying to open the locked door.

  Good. He knew that he was not a crew member, just a well-treated prisoner.

  Apex pondered how to approach this. He didn’t really need the man, but the human was convenient for a number of reasons. The question was how to get what he wanted out of him. Evasive wording and steering the conversation was time-consuming and… for the information he wanted, perhaps not even necessary.

  Direct it was, then.

  “Naven Moongale.” He announced his presence through the intercom, causing the man’s head to jerk upright. “What formality do you wish? It appears you will be my guest for some time yet. Would you prefer your given name or family name?”

  He looked around, but unlike Sallus, the prisoner had no idea where the cameras were until he found them in a search. “Apexillos… well. A good question. You call Sallus by her first name, don’t you? Or should I call her by her family name?”

  Apex sighed internally. He was direct, not stupid. He knew that Naven was searching for more information on Sallus, to report in case he escaped. It was tiring, but he couldn’t blame the human. That was the most reasonable course of action.

  “Naven it is, then,” Apex replied. “I do not know Sallus’s family name, and did not ask. Family names mean little to me. No doubt even if I recognized one, the family would be much different after all this time. You Lesser Folk have much shorter lives, and even two generations can vary wildly from one another.”

  Naven frowned and rested his hand against a wall, leaning against it. His other hand prodded at his chest, inspecting the still-healing wounds. Medical supplies were one of the items that needed replenishment, but the existing supplies had managed to stabilize him.

  The human looked up again, managing to guess a decent approximation of where the camera was. “I’m not sure I believe you’re the Apexillos. Have you been watching this entire time? Why reveal yourself now? I’d heard the thirteen heroes killed you after you ordered them to exterminate the orcs.”

  “Why would I order the thirteen heroes to do that?” Apex growled in a lighter tone, his puzzlement carrying through even the aging intercom. “For one, I had no reason to exterminate the orcs. I barely interacted with any orcs. Even if I had, I certainly never gave orders to them. I did not even know there were a total of thirteen until yesterday. I have not been hiding, I was summoned.”

  Naven held up a hand. “Wait, just one moment.” He scowled. “Are you or are you not the Emperor Dragon Apexillos?”

  A loud snort carried through the speaker, and Apex ruthlessly crushed his anger. He would feed it this, not let it take over his reasoning. Not like the attack on the corvette. “That is your name for me, not my own. It sounds as if your heroes have told you a very distorted version of the true events. I never ruled anyone. Your ‘heroes’ called out to me to trade for my knowledge. As many mortal beings did at the time.”

  His voice lowered into a more rumbling snarl. “Then they ambushed me and murdered me. When I next awoke, I was in this… vessel. The ship you call a Draconis. I know nothing of your Coalition beyond what little I could infer from speaking to Sallus and the brief records this body provides.”

  That brief story caused Naven to slump onto his bunk, rubbing his chin. His fingers slid over the slight shadow growing in, and the human’s eyes drifted. He looked tired – tired and pained. “I guess from your point of view it would look like that, but it’s possible the stories changed over time. Not that I believe you either, but I’ll admit that what I’ve heard might be a distorted viewpoint. It has been thousands of years.”

  Apex wasn’t sure if Naven was truly being reasonable, or just saying what he thought Apex wanted. Given how duplicitous the Lesser Folk could be, he settled on presuming the latter for now, but kept the conversation going. If nothing else, it was insight into what stories were told of him.

  Naven looked up from his thought. “So if you really are Apexillos… are you claiming that you were not ruling over the ‘lesser races’ and subjugating them? That you were actually benevolent? I’m no historian, but I think if you were really the victims here, you would never have been killed.”

  “Mmm… do not be so sure about the latter.” Apex growled that. “If I had something that was wanted, you Lesser Folk – which is our name for your kind – would not hesitate to steal it.”

  He paused at that, and the growl softened. “I did not rule over anyone, as I said. I subjugated no one. Neither was I a benevolent being that aided freely. I was merely… separate, as were all my kind. Great Dragons such as myself were even rarer, and would in time ascend, but during our time in the flesh we would sometimes offer advice or magical aid to your kind in return for various trinkets.”

  “So not an evil overlord, just kind of an arrogant dick who didn’t care?” Naven said, a thin smile on his lips. “I’ll say that whomever you are, you’ve definitely got a unique story about Apexillos. Not so unique a view about the heroes, though. I haven’t heard it from them directly, but downplaying the thirteen heroes is definitely Cult of Renewal kind of talk. Are you certain you haven’t just been brainwashed into thinking you’re a dragon, and you’re just a guy hooked up to a ship interface of some kind? I haven’t heard of any that were this good but I do live out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  Apex briefly looked inward, focusing on the flickering remnant of his power once more. He almost reached out again… but no. Not yet. And this was certainly not something a mere Lesser Folk could sense.

  “I am certain,” he growled. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe that I have returned?”

  The human shrugged. “It just seems… unlikely. Necromancy is what would be needed, and that’s rare and forbidden. I don’t know a lot about it – or any magic, really – but I’ve been told it can only communicate with the recently dead or raise corpses. A complete revival of something dead for eons is just… impossible. You’d need the original body or some incredibly powerful anchor or catalyst related to the deceased. Some kind of mystical tether, I’d guess. But that’s about as far as my knowledge goes.”

  “Hmm…” Apex rumbled again. “Then I suppose you will just learn eventually that the unlikely, if the only thing that can explain it, is what happened.”

  A mystical tether would make sense, but how would Sallus have found something like that? He’d never bound himself to anything that would have the strength to yank a spirit across millennia. The human’s understanding of magic was clumsy and primitive, but he was correct. An extremely powerful connection would be needed to drag him through time like what had happened, but what could have done so?

  Unbidden, he heard himself speaking his last words, in the midst of all the pain and anger.

  “I… will… kill… you… all!”

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