A Voyage to Power
A Short Story
By: Isaac W. W.
Disclaimer:
Violence, disturbing moments, cursing.
NOTE:
It’s been awhile since I have last written; I personally do not like this story, but decided that since I have nothing else to date, I would put this up anyway.
Also this story has no connection to my other work 'Echoes of War'.
I apologize in advance for my imperfect grammar, and spelling.
Please read disclaimer in advance.
Thank you for your time.
Storms in the Quatra Sector were a very common occurrence; it didn't take the Emperor to figure something like that out.
But Super Storms were a different subject altogether.
The Krafer Sector just so happened to be in the driest part of the climate on Gaia, so sudden storms, and flash floods were almost a daily factor. But of course Super Storms were the Holy Grail for any Maelstrom. All of the raw power stirring in their depths, all of the virgin power elementals were just calling to be captured.
Qati'Elthor'Damon'Maelstrom felt his blood rise just by looking at the Super Storm which was beginning to unleash its fury on the cursed Gaia below. The time had come to act.
"Whip the power elemental dry of energy, boys! There's fish for the catchin'!" Damon's commanding tone easily rose over the awaking titan in front of the Voyage to Power airship.
Damon from his high vantage point from the command throne expected his child, his baby he raised after the death of its last Qati before Damon, Qati'Quilzath'Tarck'Maelstrom. It was a mighty vessel, it looked about like any of the naval ships humanity used before the Cursed Time, shaped like a spear tip which penetrated the air currents that buffeted its sides, made out of good old iron.
But what drove it towards the waiting Super Storm was not wind caught on sails, not anything that primitive. What powered the Voyage to Power was the mighty power elemental, a powerful creature trapped within the lead prison, which the Iron Men who created the prisons called them 'battergi'.
The Voyage to Power itself was a battergi collector ship, a craft which was commissioned by the Iron Men Zathor's themselves to brave the mighty storms that ripped apart Gaia, and to capture the great power elementals within the storms so that the Iron Men could sell them throughout the Air Kingdoms. Damon was proud to work for such a noble cause, but the money also paided extremely well also, which helped support Damon's noble cause.
But the Voyage to Power had not always been in good hands. The Qati before Damon, Tarck, had been selling unregistered battergi to the infamous Air Pirates, and was not sharing his handsome share of his money with the rest of the crew, who were only too happy to help Damon's ambition to rise as the next Qati of the ship.
At first Damon thought the Zathor's would arrest him. But surprising, Damon found out that the Iron Men hardly cared what happened on the ships, or who captained them, as long as the battergi kept flowing, Damon's mysterious masters were content with letting Damon keep command
The men ran across, and under the deck of the mighty airship. Throwing levers, flipping toggles, and tying down equipment and loose luggage in preparation of the coming ride. The power elemental started to emit a low rumble, which gently shaked the ship to-and-fro as it beginned to raise the speed of the air ships propellers.
When everything was ready for the coming confrontation with the Super Storm, the crew stood with mouth agape at the sheer size of the storm in front of them. Many of them had seen such storms before, but even if Damon was a veteran of such an encounter, the storms did not fail to impress.
The storm looked like a mighty ocean, black with hate and angry that anything would try and challenge it and take its kin that hid breath in its depths, which Damon could hear, and see as they take out their anger on Gaia below, pure bolts of energy and light dove out of its abyss colored clouds, striking the earth far below without remorse. Even Damon gaped at such displays of might, how could they, simple mortals take on the very avatar of the Storm Gods themselves!
But Damon reminded himself of everything the air ship had been through before hand. Thousands of storms, hundreds of captains and an revolt even! Such turmoil could not happen on a weak ship, and have it walk mighty out of such events with its head held high. The Voyage to Power and its crewwould look upon a challenge, and give up! Damon would not allow such a dishonor to the air ship!
"Stop your mouth' globing lads! There are demons to trap, and gods to trick!" This time Damon had to use the sound horn from the command chair to get his voice over the rising storm. The combined cheer of the up lifted crew could not even be heard thanks to the Super Storm that threatened to throw the moral back down to Gaia. None of that would happen on 'ol Qati Damon's ship!
"No one or no thing has quieted the Voyage to Power, boys! Lets not goin' and start a' breaking of the tradition!" Another silent cheer from the crew, but this time they did not look morbidly into the coming storm, but went back to work.
Waltus walked up the deck to the throne of Damon; he looked like a old Storm Guard Riater. All scars on the face, and his leg replaced by a strange metal one that allowed Waltus the same maneuverability as any man, the leg even had its own battergi, a mighty thing for a object so small to contain a power elemental for itself!
Curvus, the Qatigor to Damon, had told him that Waltus's old leg was blasted off during one such voyage that they now faced. And if the story was correct, Waltus did not cry out once when his leg was blasted off, or afterwards. Iron Men had no soul said the 'ol sky dogs, and seeing Waltus now, without any fear while others trembled, it was easy to see why.
Waltus reached the top of the stairs and said in a claim, monotone voice. "The Voyage to Power's power elemental is almost at full strength, the rest is up to you, Damon. Do not disappoint, we have an appointment."
Waltus did not even have to yell into Damon’s ear, the man had his own built-in sound horn somewhere. But where it was stored, Damon did not know. Damon shivered at the idea of any man that held so much power to carry such an object for himself.
Damon tried to not be offended by the Iron Man's lack of using the proper Maelstrom term of 'Qati' to identify him as captain. He would have given any other man ten lashings just on principle, but Damon held his rage inside. Iron Men were above calling others there proper titles, and no one wanted to upset the might of the Steel Hold itself.
Damon turned down the power of his sound horn so the crew could not hear his reply. "Yes, sir! Your masters will be pleased with tonight’s bounty!"
"Yes. I think they well be very pleased."
Damon caught the glint of something in Waltus normally blank eyes. Was it glee? Damon could not tell, but before he could consider it in more detail, Waltus was already descending down the stairs, and then disappeared among the crew.
Damon shook his head and cracked his knuckles. Time to get on the job, no more of this a' doubting of his bosses subjects aboard his ship!
He sat down on the mighty abyss colored command throne, with its back rise five more feet above Damon’s six foot frame, and let his fingers spread across the long armrests and let his mind go.
Damon had seen the next coming moments by watching the ol', sadly departed Qati, Tarck. As soon as the Qati took control, lines in the throne would light up a eerie dark blue as the chair started to feed off the personal energy of the person in control, and then thousands of lines of steel ropes would extend from secret spots in the throne, and thrust themselves deep into special holes drilled into the Qati's head, which connected the Qati's spirit to become one with the ship, so that the man could control the Voyage to Power like a well fit glove over his hand.
As Damon became one with the airship, he lost all control of his body, but gained a feeling of his body being the airship all the long. He shook his body slowly to get the kinks out, with the ship moving at his will, shifting to and fro with the poor crew trying to find handholds. And then Damon shot forward, head on to face the opposing force ahead of it.
What a feeling! With pure power rushing through his veins, and his sheer size he felt like he could take on the puny Super Storm ahead of him! Nothing could stop him!
As if response to its challenger’s confidence, the storm let loose several of its power elemental children against the side of the ship, but not even a scratch was marred on the mighty vessel! The slightly singed metal stood resolute in defiance to the angry god facing it.
Damon let loose a howl of triumph, and the sound horn blared out, laughing in the face of the storm. And Damon could feel the crews silent cheer vibration through his body. The storm screamed back in rage, and loosed hundreds of more bolts of energy against the side of the vessel.
Damon swayed back and forth, dipped and dived, and did anything possible to avoid the overwhelming number of power elementals. He could feel the crew scream as they dive to his deck, and grab anything they could. Some were hit by the vengeful power elementals and reduced to black ash that was quickly blown away in the mighty winds of the storm. A few were even thrown from Damon's deck, down to Gaia below.
Not even Damon could withstand this much power being thrown against him, including his crew. He had to get the power elementals and bolt out of there as soon as possible, or he would soon be reduced into scrap metal.
He commanded the machines in his sides to retract, the task seemed simple to Damon, but even the screech of metal as the ancient sides of the ship retreated to reveal its insides could be heard by the crew over the evil storm. What lay breathe was one of the greatest wonders of all Maelstrom airships.
Thousands of ancient steel rods extended from within their cases, charmed by the Iron Men themselves so no power elementals could resist the attraction to them. The elementals would travel down the rods, and then they would follow the rods shortly into the airship before finding themselves in a lead container. Then the trap would be sprung.
The ancient spirits put into the battergi by the Iron Men would activate, closing themselves to the rest of the world, trapping the power elementals inside before they could escape their soon-to-be prisons. After that they could safely power the machines of men without killing anyone.
The iron rods finished deploying themselves, and before the unexpecting storm could turn its children away from the rods, its children dived head first at them, attracted without knowledge of their dooms. As the battergi were filled, men below desks would remove them, and put in new ones to replace them. Hundreds would be filled in seconds.
The storm cried in anguish, seeing the true cunning of its foes, it lashed out in pure spite at the airship for the loss of its kin, only helping filling the battergi within the Voyage to Power.
Damon, during this time was fleeting back and forth, showing its sides and undersides to the storm to make sure the Super Storm touched all of the rods in turn over and over again for a nice even fill as possible.
Soon Damon felt the last battergi fill up, and he quickly proceeded to close his sides, while turning around to run. The dangerous part began. When no battergi connected to the iron rods, the insides of the ship would take a fierce beating until the rods were retracted and the sides were closed.
Sensing the weakness of its challengers, the beaten Super Storm unleashed new vengeance against the airship. These power elementals destroyed many rods, scorched the inside of the ship, and killed many of the crew inside. It was a disaster.
Damon forced its sides close and applied all of his power to speed, and run with the hellish black monster at his back, thrusting forward to continue its revenge against the airship.
Finally after ten minutes of non-stop danger, the Super Storm slowed down, with quite a bit of its energy exhausted it could not continue chasing the racing Voyage to Power. And instead turn its remaining power upon the earth far below, smiting the cursed ground below into oblivion.
Damon made sure to fly several miles away from the storm, just incase it changed its mind and came back to destroy the helpless airship. The crew during this time picked themselves back up and continued with their assignments such as recording the dead, checking the amount damage done to the airship, and making notes about the size of the battergi's which they collected this time.
After they were a safe enough distance, Damon exited the command throne. The wires and cords retracted from his skull and the chair itself ceased to glow its eerie blue. Damon sat up wobbly, and tried to move, but his exhausted limbs could not bear his weight and he collapsed.
Thankfully Curvus was there waiting for him, and caught him mid-fall and steered Damon to a close-by chair that was made just for that purpose. This chair was hardly special looking, just a normal iron chair you could buy anywhere. But to Damon it felt like heaven, and he slumped into it, exhausted.
"By Cursed Gaia herself! That was the best damn flying I have seen since the 'ol bastard Tarck himself flew us against an Super Storm himself! You should see the battergi; we filled the whole load up to brim! That will fetch a mighty price from the Iron Men themselves!" Curvus exclaimed, obviously bursting with enthusiasm.
Damon gave his second in command a wearily smile. "Just a’ doing my job Qatigor."
"Indeed. Quite the performance, Damon." said a cold, emotionless voice. And Damon realized that Waltus had joined them, and was systematically scanning Damon with the eye of only one such as him.
"Thank you sir. Qatigor, I am turning command over to you for now, I need to rest. That took more out of me then any other flight before, I trust you can take us home?"
Before Curvus could reply, Waltus interrupted with a hint of impatience. "That will not be necessary, Damon."
Both Curvus and Damon looked surprised at the old Iron Man, as if he were crazy. But Waltus took no notice to their stares, and reached inside his thick rope and pulled out a odd square shaped piece of metal.
He pushed the top button down and said to it. "This is Waltus, the payment is ready for you, over."
Curvus and Damon stared at each other, both at a loss for words. Had the old man finally lost his marbles?
But before Damon could question Waltus, he heard an odd humming sound over the far away cries of the Super Storm, it sounded oddly familiar...
It grew louder and louder, until the whole crew stood still, moved around nervously at the loud humming, then something sped past the Voyage to Power, coming to rest above just a few feet above them. Then it hit him, he knew what it was.
Airship.
A second smaller vessel rushed along side the Voyage to Power, there was something large resting on its top, but it was moving too fast to tell. Then the whole ship shuddered, and Damon could hear the horrible sounds of screeching metal as the hull of the ship was rent asunder.
Damon could not believe what was happening. They were hit by a Lich Harpoon of all things! A military weapon used only by the Sky Fleet, and... Pirates. What struck him odd was that they were not falling; the Lich Harpoon was made to magically seek out the main battergi of any vessel, and allowed the shooter to suck it dry.
The crew just stood around, shocked at what was happening, and how quickly it was taking place. Damon could not blame them, he could barely think.
Suddenly the metal box, which Waltus was still holding, spoke as if it were living itself. A heavily accented, slightly aggorunt voice said. "Roger that, we are preparing to board, over."
. I think if you were to write this in the first person it would make for some good characterisation - logically this would be from Waltus' point of view but I would really like to know more about Damon, his perspective would be most entertaining I think. (And should give Dalmus an evil laugh right at the end!
)
