Heretical Edge

Three Fomorian ships. They had started with one and only barely sort of gotten past that with a few desperate plays, and now there were three of them. All no doubt very focused on tearing this one apart to get at the juicy morsels within.

Quickly returning to the bridge after assuring himself that the holes in the hull were being automatically repaired, Jacob checked on the others. Gaia was clearly tired from all of that, but she gave him a nod and assured him that she could keep doing this as soon as the direct assault started up again. In the meantime, she was directing the ship down into the atmosphere below so they could scoop what they needed. Nothing was said about the enemy reinforcements. Nothing needed to be said. They all knew what that meant for their odds.

“Five minutes,” she reminded him softly as they looked between the approaching Fomorian vessels and the gas giant they were descending into. The living ship they had passed was already pulling itself together to begin its chase once more, while the other two were coming in from a couple different points, clearly meant to cut them off from fleeing anywhere else. “We still need five minutes. The ship has informed me that even if we use our top speed down here, the other vessels will be on top of us in three and a half.”

Jacob grimaced with a glance toward Laein. “Which means we need to survive for a minute and a half with a few very pissed off Fomorian ships doing everything they can to tear us apart. After what we just did, they're pretty motivated to make sure we don't make it out of this. I mean, they were never going to let us go anyway, but now it's probably personal.”

Laein, for her part, trembled just a little before straightening up to her full diminutive height. She glared ahead, hands tightening into fists as she blatantly refused to show her fear. “Oh well, let them try. They'll soon learn that what happened to them just now was merely a taste of the vengeance we shall visit upon them for their impudence. They have challenged the might of the greatest Necromancers in the universe, a mistake they shall learn to regret! Though only for a short time, before they can never regret anything else again.” Her feral smile made her words almost believable. “I look forward to teaching them.”

Smiling grimly just a little bit, Jacob took a deep breath, considering what they could do to survive that minute and a half. It didn't seem like that long on the surface, but he knew full well just how quickly the Fomorians could completely tear their ship apart. Within that minute and a half, they could be killed dozens of times over if they weren't ready. And this time, the monsters were going to be far more prepared for any Necromancy tricks.

Or maybe they would simply attack with such overwhelming force that even Necromancy wouldn't be enough to hold them off. Either way, Jacob and the others couldn't rely on the same methods.

That fact became even more clear a second later, as the ship’s computer loudly announced that the newly-arrived Fomorian vessels had each deployed some sort of gas cloud that would dissolve the ship within seconds if they tried to pass through it. The cloud was being set up all around the gas giant, blocking them off from any potential attempts to slip by. At this point, the absolute only chance they had going anywhere was to get the fuel they needed for a jump.

Honestly, it had already been their only chance, but the Fomorians clearly enjoyed completely stamping out any possible hope whenever possible.

And with that giant, planet-covering cloud acting as a wall to trap their quarry, the abominations began their descent, coming after Jacob and the others from three different sides.

“They’re coming,” Laein remarked unnecessarily as she stared at that screen. “They just locked the door behind them.”

“I guess we’ll have to kick it down then,” Jacob murmured, trying to sound as though he knew what he was doing. He had only known Laein for a very short time, even less of which had been spent on somewhat neutral to friendly terms. As friendly as she seemed to be willing to get, anyway. And yet, he still felt bad about putting her in this position.

If they had barely stood a chance of lasting for a minute and a half while there was only one enemy ship to attack them, having two more playing backup meant they probably wouldn't last even thirty seconds. They had to do something to change the situation, because simply trying to last through the attacks from three Fomorian ships was a complete nonstarter. They had--three minutes at this point--to figure out how to survive long enough to escape this situation.

Jacob’s mind was racing as he glanced around the bridge, taking in everything they had available while Gaia and Laein did the same. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anything useful jumping out at them. The seconds were ticking by, while the graphic on the screen showed the Fomorian ships getting closer and closer, inexorably closing the net around them from all sides.

“Fahsteth?” Laein finally put in after fifteen seconds had passed. She sounded far less certain of herself and more nervous than any other time either Jacob or Gaia had heard her speak. “He might have a secret escape button he can use to bail out of this ship in an emergency.”

“He did,” Gaia confirmed, speaking quickly. “I located it when we first appropriated this vessel. Unfortunately, it is keyed only to his body, and I disabled it. I could re-enable it, but it would still be stuck to only working on him. That’s how it was designed, and we do not have time to change it.”

She hesitated before adding, “Besides, it would only send him to the nearest survivable planet.”

And, Jacob knew without the woman needing to add, that wouldn’t stop the Fomorians. That was what Gaia wasn’t saying out loud. But the implication was there. The Fomorians were in the system. They would detect life on that planet and descend upon it the moment they were done with this ship. Even if they could use Fahsteth’s emergency escape system, it would only delay the inevitable. And they would lose access to the ship with all its weapons in the process. They wouldn’t accomplish anything more than adding a few more minutes to their lives.

No, there had to be something else. But what? Even as the time continued to tick away, Jacob couldn’t see anything useful. A tenth scan around the bridge didn’t change that fact. And it was so hard to keep trying to think of something to do with what little they had available.

All he could think about was what was going to happen when they were caught. It ate away at his nerves, making it hard to focus. He didn’t have his memories. He didn’t know who would miss him if he never came back, but he could sense that there were those who would notice, those who would be waiting for him. And Gaia--Gaia was important to the future. Gaia was important to him. He couldn’t let this happen, he couldn’t be responsible for allowing her to die here in the past. That would irrevocably shatter the future, completely changing the timeline. He didn’t need his specific memories to understand that much.

He could die here. Frightened as he was by the prospect, he knew it wouldn’t harm the timeline. People would grieve for him, he was pretty sure. But time would march on. In the long run, he didn’t matter that much. He was from the future. If it came down to it, he would sacrifice himself to save her. Because if he allowed Gaia to die right now, it would be the end of everything. This wasn’t about saving himself, not in the long run. It was about ensuring the future was safe. Losing Gaia, losing this woman, would… would… no. It couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. Not today. There had to be something they could do, something they could use. Two minutes and fifteen seconds. They had to find a way to completely change the situation in two minutes and fifteen seconds, but how?! What could he possibly do that could stop multiple Fomorian ships? If they were almost any other enemy, he could call them and stall, or negotiate, or something. But Fomorians didn’t communicate, they didn’t negotiate, they just killed. They slaughtered everything in their path, breaking it down into biological building blocks to use in their own creations. They didn’t care about anything other than killing every living being in their way.

There wasn’t a helpful button hidden on any of the consoles that would magically triple this ship’s weapons and shields, or instantly teleport them out of the way. Nor was there a special anti-Fomorian missile launcher stashed in any of the storage closets. They had thoroughly explored the ship over these past weeks and one of them would have noticed that. There were spare parts, armor pieces the ship used to repair itself from damage, a few extra engines if things went catastrophically wrong with one of them, medical supplies, tools, beds, energy cells meant to keep the power on if they went too long between recharging the ship properly, and so on. Everything they had was about keeping the ship running after they were damaged, not surviving or escaping a direct assault from three Fomorian ships. If they survived, they could repair the ship, but they had to get that far first. Having all those spare parts was useless, unless they got out of this. Then they could practically build a whole new ship with what they had lying around. It was just too bad they couldn’t--

Wait. Straightening up suddenly, Jacob shot a glance toward the screen. Two minutes. They had two minutes left. Immediately, he spun toward Gaia. “Deeper! Take us deeper into the atmosphere, as low as we can go without completely breaking apart! We need the cover, just get us down out of their sight!” Already, he was summoning all the ghosts he’d left outside on top of the ship back inside and spreading them out. Hundreds of ghosts were scattered through the vessel, grabbing every spare part they saw. He filled them up with all the energy he could, giving all those ghosts the ability to become solid and lift all those massive batteries, long bits of metal, spare engine parts, everything meant to repair the ship and allow it to keep flying after going through heavy battles. It was a bit of a risk given they might need those parts pretty soon if they survived this. But then, if they didn’t do something to get out of this situation, having spare parts wouldn’t matter. One step at a time, and the first step was getting through the next few minutes in as few pieces as possible.

Without wasting any time asking questions, Gaia directed the ship to take them deeper into the gas giant’s atmosphere. She had no idea what Jacob was planning, and yet, she did it anyway. The whole vessel was rattling around them, the shields whining under the pressure. This was dangerous. Not only because the ship could break apart if they went too low, but also because it was damaging their shields just before the Fomorians would be on top of them. Not that they would have survived for long against that sort of attack even if their shields had been pristine, but still. The psychological effect of deliberately damaging their own ship shortly before the Fomorians would reach them was… difficult. Still, Jacob knew this was the right move. Or at least, it was the only move they had, the only one he could think of right now.

The heavy gasses obscured their ship, making it all-but impossible to see them properly. That wouldn’t exactly stop the Fomorians with all their extra senses and such, but it was step one.

Step two was what all those ghosts were working on. They carried and dragged every spare part they could grab to the cargo bay, where Jacob had already instructed Gaia to open the main hatch. Very few living people could have survived that sort of exposure, but the ghosts weren’t alive. They held onto the energy cells, engine parts, pieces of spare metal, and so on as everything was immediately sucked out through the open hatch and into the swirling gasses of the giant planet’s atmosphere.

They should have completely disappeared that way, dragged away in random directions, broken apart, and lost forever with no real effect. But Jacob pushed all the energy he could into those ghosts, empowering them, giving them what they needed to hang on. The effort left him faltering, the room spinning around the young man as he started to collapse before Gaia caught him. She kept him on his feet, doing… something to push her own power into him. She gave him the strength he needed to keep going. Even though she had no idea what his plan was, let alone whether it had any chance of working, that didn’t matter. She stood behind him, holding him up as his knees faltered under the effort of what he was doing, and fed her own energy into him. She kept him upright and gave him what he needed to keep going. Without Gaia, he would have been completely lost.

Even then, it was a very close thing. It took everything Jacob had, and all that Gaia was able to give him, to keep those ghosts strong enough to hold onto those spare parts. Under his direction, the ghosts carried those parts through the violent atmosphere of heavy gasses, arranging them in the rough approximation of multiple ships.

Obviously, there weren't enough parts to actually build even one ship, let alone multiple. Under a direct visual examination in clear space, it will simply look like dozens of bits of metal plating held up here and there, along with engines roughly where they would be, a few computer terminals, energy cells in the middle, and so on. It was simply pieces of a ship held in the approximate position they would be.

Fortunately, it didn't need to hold up against clear visual inspection. The thick gasses made something like that difficult, if not impossible. Especially at a range. The Fomorians would need to be practically right on top of them before they would be able to discern the difference. Especially once Gaia realized what Jacob was doing and began to help by sending commands to those spare consoles so they would start up and begin giving the impression that they were attached to an actual ship that was in distress. She duplicated everything the computer on this ship was doing and sent it to those others.

In the end, they had just enough spare parts to fake two and a half ships. Jacob would have preferred at least a full three, but that was going to have to do. Scattering the three diversions in separate directions, Jacob told Gaia to take their ship even lower. This was dangerous. The shields were already full-time. If they went too low, the Fomorians wouldn't have a chance to kill them. They would implode under the pressure. But they needed to get as far out of sight as possible so the Fomorians would chase the fake ships. If they could just distract them for a few moments, it would be enough. The Fomorians would only be in direct combat range for a minute and a half. This distraction didn't need to work for very long, or even very well. It just had to hold up enough to get them through a minute and a half. They could do that, and the ship itself could hold together under the enormous pressure for that long. Or so Jacob really hoped.

Because obviously they weren't in enough danger as it was, he told Gaia to turn off everything they could. They cut the engines, turned off everything that wasn't completely essential for either keeping the ship from completely crumpling like an aluminum can or pulling in the gasses they needed. Even then, life support was turned down to the point of barely functioning. They were taking shallow breaths, feeling the cold air already seeping through the vessel. The artificial gravity was gone, but they didn't float. Instead, they felt the heavy weight of the gas giant’s gravity yanking them down. It was even harder to stay on their feet than their exhaustion had already made it. So they didn't. Laein laid down near the corner, while Gaia and Jacob sat together in the middle of the bridge. They braced one another, focusing every effort on keeping those fake ships moving and in some form of believable formation. That was all they had left, it was their only chance. There were no more secret weapons, certainly not the sort that could fend off three Fomorian battleships. These distractions were their only chance.

With everything shut off or put toward keeping the ship from cracking apart, they couldn’t even keep track of the Fomorian vessels any longer. They were flying blind down here, as low in the gas giant atmosphere as they dared go. They had no way of knowing if this trick was even working. If it failed, they wouldn't know until it was too late. Their first indication that things had gone wrong would be when the Fomorians tore their ship apart. Or worse, appeared on the bridge in front of them.

No, all they could do was sit there, barely conscious, as they continued to control those diversions. At that point, neither of them were even certain they were keeping the fake ships together at all. They were so exhausted, so delirious, that the various pieces could have floated off in random directions already. Holding on to one another, they felt the lack of sufficient oxygen, the oppressively cold air, the pressure from the gravity pulling them harder against the deck, the stress of knowing what would happen if this distraction failed, and so much more. This was it. The time ticked away so slowly. They couldn't keep going like this. There wasn't enough air, the ship was falling apart. They had nothing left. It was too late. There would be no escape from this, not now. They could feel themselves drifting away, losing consciousness, losing who and what they were. They couldn't survive any longer. It was over. Everything they had done, all the effort they had put into getting out of this, and it was going to be too little. The only thing they could do, as darkness began to settle in, was hold one another and murmur apologies for not being strong enough. They had tried, but it wasn't enough. At least they would fall knowing they couldn't be used by the Fomorians. The ship would break apart under this pressure and their bodies would be lost forever. It was a rather Pyrrhic victory to be certain, but if it meant their bodies couldn't be used to kill anyone else, maybe that would have to be enough.

Jacob was just sorry that he hadn't been able to save Gaia. What would the timeline look like with her gone? How different would everything be in that case? He couldn't even remember what it was supposed to be, but he did know she was vital to it. If she wasn't there, everything would change.

But that was for others to worry about. It was for others to deal with. He wouldn't be there. The ship’s shields were almost completely gone. The hole was starting to crack. In seconds, they would break apart, and then he wouldn't worry about anything else ever again.

Then, in the far recesses of his conscious mind, he heard a loud ding, a cheerful chime. It cut through his fading thoughts, the meaning coming to him belatedly. It was done. The ship had the fuel it needed to jump. Doing that so close to a planet, let alone directly within the heavy atmosphere of a gas giant, was so dangerous it was basically never done. He knew that much, even with his faulty memories. They had no real planned destination, and in their current situation, the whole ship could fall apart in the process of jumping. Or they could end up hurtling themselves directly into another planet, the middle of a star, or worse. Their ship, damaged as it was, absolutely wasn't in the right condition to jump even under ideal circumstances, and these were far from ideal. Trying to jump right now was a complete roll of the dice. And not exactly a very favorable one.

On the other hand, not jumping at all would be tantamount to crashing the dice with a sledge hammer. They could either take the risk or die.

Without even needing to look at one another, not that they had the energy to do so, Gaia and Jacob both did the only thing they could. She sent the signal to the ship to jump, and he pulled his ghosts back from their distraction duty.

The ship lurched, the system sending up half a dozen alarms. It was screaming warnings at them about how stupid this was and how likely it was to backfire. They had almost no shields, very little engine power left, the hull was faltering and cracking in places, and life-support was on the bare minimum it could be while still somewhat working. If anything went wrong with the jump, anything at all, they wouldn't last long enough to fix it. This was the hail mary of all hail maries.

And, on top of everything else, that was when one of the Fomorian ships found them. It was right there, looming in front of them on the monitor. They both saw its tentacles reaching for them. As the engines gave their loud, protesting whine from the power being forced into them for the emergency jump, those tentacles came closer. It was as though the monsters on that ship knew they were almost too late, that their quarry was about to get away, and were doing their damndest to make sure that didn’t happen. As they watched it come, Gaia, Jacob, and Laein could do nothing about it. They had nothing left to defend themselves with, no strength, no tricks. The ship’s shield wouldn't have helped even if it had been completely intact. Against the full force of the Fomorian tentacle, it would have shattered. And right now, it was already basically gone. The tentacle completely filled the viewscreen, stretching closer to grab them.

At the last possible second, in that final instant, the Fomorians vanished as the ship made the jump. They were gone, escaping into the jump.

It wasn't a long one, to say the least. They had only taken in the bare minimum that was needed for a short jump. It only lasted a few seconds. Through those seconds, Gaia and Jacob clung to one another, staring at the monitor. Tempting as it might have been to let the relief wash over them now that they were away from the Fomorians, they weren't out of the woods yet. The jump could still take them straight into immediate death. If they came out in the middle of a star, or any other obstacle, then escaping the Fomorians wouldn't matter in the long run. There hadn't been time to plot the jump properly, and being out here in the far reaches of space meant they didn't have much in the way of pre-charted courses. The computer had a certain level of safety measures, but it had also been almost completely shut down in that moment. How much had it really been able to do to protect them? There was no way of being certain, and no way to know whether they would survive when the jump ended. Not until the moment came.

Then, almost before they could finish worrying about it, it did. The loud whine of the engines stopped, and the acceleration, so heavily felt that time thanks to the low power, was abruptly cut off.

Stars. They saw stars on the monitor. Not directly in front of them, not filling the view screen, but scattered across the monitor. There were no planets in view, and no other ships, Fomorian or otherwise. There was nothing but that blanket of distant stars, just those tiny twinkling lights.

The ship was still sending up plenty of alarms about broken systems and things that needed to be repaired. They still had problems, which wouldn't just disappear, and wouldn’t be easy to deal with. Problems that they might have just thrown out all the spare parts for.

But right now, in this moment, that didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. They were free. They were safe. The Fomorians were gone. It had taken everything they had, almost quite literally, but in the end, they had survived and escaped.

Laein was saying something in the background, but Jacob didn’t hear it. Her voice was little more than noise. His eyes closed, and he let himself slump. Sitting there on the floor with Gaia, he felt the weight of certain death, or worse, lift off of him. The timeline was safe. Well, safe-ish. Gaia was alive. They were all alive. The weight, the fear, the adrenaline that had been fueling him over these past few frantic minutes ever since the alarm had begun to sound, all of it dropped away in an instant. And right then, realizing that they were alive and safe, the only thing he could do was laugh. He couldn't help it. First came a slight chuckle, growing quickly into a shoulder-shaking laugh that filled the bridge. With his eyes still closed, Jacob let the relief explode out of him that way. He didn't care how strange it might look. His laughter carried through the room as he fell onto his side. The metal floor under him might as well have been the most comfortable carpet that had ever been made. The recycled air was still thin as the life-support hadn't recovered. And it was cold enough to be uncomfortable.

But none of that mattered. None of it even registered. He might as well have been floating on a warm, fluffy cloud. The relief that flooded his system was the greatest euphoria in the universe. They were alive.

They were alive.

“Jacob?”

Hearing that soft, familiar voice, he opened his eyes to look up. Gaia was there, still seated beside him as she stared down. Her gaze was uncertain, but held a hint of amusement and her own relief. “Are you well?”

Was he well? After everything that had happened, all the terror and adrenaline and certainty that he had helped ruin an entire timeline by leading Gaia to her death, was he well? In the aftermath of surviving all of that and coming out the other side in one piece, was he well?

Jacob answered the question in the only way he could. His hand rose, sliding over Gaia’s face. It was a touch that made them both exhale softly, as his fingers gently brushed across her cheek, over the bottom of her ear, and down to the back of her neck. Their eyes locked as his hand rested there, an eternity of thoughts, promises, and assurances passing between them.

Was he well?

Jacob’s hand squeezed the back of her neck, as he lifted his head from the floor. His mouth found hers, her body dropped into his, and everything else fell away.