Starbreaker: Volume 4 - Chapter 11

“A man who owes nothing to anybody is not free. For in his pursuit of freedom, he has instead found ascetism. Detachment is not freedom, it is simply the absence of all. It is only on the bridge of a ship that true freedom is found, when all of reality stretches out before you, not as an enemy to be faced but a frontier to be explored, that you finally understand the truth of freedom and its immensity.”

—Foreword to Introductions to Interplanetary Flight, Volume One, Kail Hjernbard

While Kaya and Hector had a loud conversation about all of the sightseeing destinations they’d visited on the planet—entirely a fabrication of her own imagination since they’d been locked away in the palace for the whole time—Sylvas tried to work out where they were headed. He’d loaded a map of the city into his memory and fed it to Mira, but she hadn’t flagged any suggestions as to where their new base of operations was liable to be as of yet.

According to the council, Hector operated without oversight, so they had no idea where he based himself. All of their covenant operatives did. By keeping them isolated from one another, the council could ensure that if one did happen to be captured, it wouldn’t leave a trail to any of the others, and the Empyrean as a whole had some degree of plausible deniability about whether it employed them. Not that there was much in the universe that was likely to be able to take down a covenant mage once they had mastered their power.

As they moved farther across the city and away from both the palace and the commercial districts into some of the more restrained palatial estates that constituted the planet’s residential areas, Sylvas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some mansion waiting in their near future.

Oh, darling, you’re finally going to give me the sort of life I deserve, basking in the lap of luxury.

Of course, Hector gave no indication that they were going to be slowing or stopping any time soon. If anything, now that they were out of the busier thoroughfares, he seemed to be moving with renewed energy. Before, there had been a sort of swagger to his step, but now he was leaning forward as if he was about to burst into a sprint at any moment, with only Kaya dangling off his arm seeming to slow him down. They rounded the corner of one of the high-hedged estates, and Sylvas could see the tension along the back of the man’s back. He wanted to run.

As surreptitiously as he could, he sidled up to the pair in the lead and asked, “Is everything alright?”

Hector cast a glance back at him, “It’s a long hike. Don’t suppose you’ve got a portal spell?”

Strictly speaking, Sylvas didn’t. He had a teleportation spell that he could manipulate to create a portal, but it wasn’t exactly legitimate. Mira perked up a little at the prospect of breaking more Empyrean rules, of course.

Oh, you know that we can do it, darling, just let me. Oh please. You know I’d let you if the positions were reversed and you were an incorporeal figment of my imagination.

Sylvas gave Hector a terse nod, and the man plucked a slate out of his cold storage, which he hastily scribbled the coordinates onto. Sylvas only needed one glance for Mira to position it on the map and make the necessary calculations. Kaya finally let go of Hector’s arm, and much of her lovestruck demeanor seemed to melt away in an instant. It appeared she was a better actor than the rest of them put together.

With one brief glance around to be sure that they weren’t being observed, Sylvas cast his portal.

It was nothing like the beautiful, smooth circle of the hyperway gate or the demonstrations that he’d seen of real portal spells. He was twisting his usual teleportation spell into a new form, and it showed. A ragged hole in reality showed them the emptiness of null-space for just an instant, and then the second half of the spell cast through it to open up the way to where they were headed. It was the same trick he’d pulled to avoid the fire mage in the tournament but done excruciatingly slowly and without the leverage of being in null-space himself. He could feel every spike and peak of gravity as reality fought to reassert itself, and the drain on his mana reserves was instantaneous. Hector looked at the ragged hole in existence, grinned, and threw himself through, trusting Sylvas with his life even though they’d only just met. Even Kaya and Malachai, who were supposed to be his friends, showed more hesitation, only jumping in after they saw Hector passing safely through the blackness within. Taking a step back, Sylvas drew one last breath and then flung himself forward, passing through the tear just before it could snap shut behind him and crashing into the back of the other two on arrival, all three of them lightly rimed in ice after their journey through the void of null-space.

Hector shook the frost out of his hair and laughed. “Neat trick.”

Sylvas had the good grace to look a little bashful. “Whatever works, right?”

“Whatever works,” the older man affirmed before turning around to show off their new home.

They were inside a warehouse, somewhere in an industrial district that Sylvas hadn’t come across in his overlook of the planet-sized city. It was the dingiest place that they’d seen on the entire planet, still a good deal nicer than pretty much anywhere else Sylvas had ever lived, but he had been expecting something a little less rough and ready. The dismay was even more apparent on Malachai’s face. He had been roughing it since arriving in the Ardent, so he was presumably hoping for some sort of return to form regarding his living situation. The only one who didn’t seem bothered was Kaya, who had already started tramping off across the smooth stone floor in search of something to tinker with.

“It’s… spacious,” Sylvas tentatively complimented the empty space.

Hector laughed. “I’m not making you live in a hangar, don’t worry.”

Malachai seemed to relax, just a little.

“And don’t worry too much about being terrible undercover either.” He put an arm around Sylvas’ shoulder and led him farther into the empty space. “Officially, we’re intelligence operatives, but that’s just to give us freedom of movement. The Empyrean has actual spies to do the spy stuff. We just don’t fit into the organizational structure of things.”

“It made sense to me for us to be incognito since we have to keep certain aspects of ourselves hidden.” Sylvas could see something up ahead in the empty building. Something big but covered by a massive tarpaulin that Kaya had made a beeline for.

“Don’t worry too much about that either. Don’t go whipping out your eidolon in front of people, but… unless they already know about covenants, nobody is going to recognize what you can do as anything different from what any other mage can do. You’ll look powerful, yeah, but the times when you have to bring it all to bear don’t tend to leave a ton of witnesses.” Hector waved his hand as if he could just wipe the worries away. “We’re trouble-shooters. We go where there’s a specific problem the Empyrean needs handled, and we handle it. We don’t really need to worry about covering our tracks; the universe is a big place. You don’t run into the same people.”

Kaya had a hold on one corner of the tarp and was pulling with all her strength. Leverage probably played a big part in her inability to move the sheet and her ending up dangling off the sheet, but Sylvas waited to intervene to see if she’d work that out for herself or if she actually needed help. “It sounds like a lonely life.”

Hector chuckled. “Well, not now. I’ve got my very own babysitting gig.”

Sylvas looked abashed. “I will endeavor not to hold back your work too much as I learn…”

Hector’s hand moved up from Sylvas’ shoulder to smack the back of his head. “Kid, I’m joking. Try to relax a little.”

While I applaud him knocking some sense into you, do try to make sure he does so to the front of your head next time, Mira commented a little peevishly. It’s not like you use what’s there often enough to matter. In fact it might even help you. I, on the other hand would prefer not to be rattled about.

Unfortunately Sylvas didn’t have time to even consider forming a reply for right then, Kaya, now dangling fully from the corner of the tarpaulin, swinging back and forth, quickly called out, “Did you just ask the stanzbuhr to relax? Good luck! I’ve been trying for years. Or at least it certainly feels like years by now.”

“And here I thought this was going to be easy! I thought I was meant to be teaching him ancient and forbidden magic. I didn’t know I was going to be teaching him to be fun.”

“I can assure you, Mr Hector,” Malachai decided to join in, “Sylvas Vail is quite capable of being fun. He just isn’t capable of doing so on purpose.”

“It’s true.” Kaya caught sight of Sylvas’ face. “It is, I’m sorry! Remember when I first met you? Bet you didn’t set out to drink a fiend under the table, did you?”

Hector swung back around to look at Sylvas in a whole new light. “I’m sorry, Vail did what now?”

“It was my first time off my homeworld. I didn’t know that alcohol tolerance differed across… It doesn’t matter. It was a one-time mistake that I don’t intend on repeating.”

They were close enough to the swinging dwarf now for Malachai to wander over and try to untangle her, and for Hector to stage-whisper, “We are definitely getting him to repeat that mistake, right?”

Kaya was in her element swinging out of Malachai’s reach and shouting to Sylvas, “Tell him about the time you ended up in bed with a lizard and all her eggs.”

Hector clenched his hands to his chest. “They missed so much of the important stuff out of your official files.”

Sylvas reached out with his power, took hold of the tarpaulin that Kaya was still dangling from, and pulled. The whole thing lurched and dragged before the planet’s natural gravity took hold, and it continued to slip free of what it had been hiding. Kaya hit the ground with a little bump and a yelp before scurrying out of the way so she wasn’t buried under the landslide of waxed cloth. All three of them came to stand beside him as what had been hidden was revealed. Kaya let out a wolf whistle.

It was a ship. Not the utilitarian white plastic of the Ardent, nor the sleek silver of the Veilbohr Institute’s elf-made craft, but something entirely different. It was a little bigger than a shuttle but markedly smaller than any of the more substantial craft Sylvas had encountered in his time in the Empyrean. It was also made in an entirely different manner. Slowly, it dawned on him that this was the new home that they’d be sharing. It was big enough that all four of them could have quarters on board, provided that they didn’t mind sharing most of their living space.

Kaya’s whistle finally came to an end. “What a beauty!”

Sylvas was not sure that he would have described it as beautiful, as such. The elvish ships had been beautiful, with all of their smooth organic lines, whereas this one was more substantial and blocky. A solid core with squared-off wings and more cuboid extensions affixed, all made in a dark metal, lit from within along the joints as if it were superheated.

“Dwarven-made,” Hector proudly announced.

Kaya nodded approvingly. “Of course.”

Sylvas could see the influence of dwarven design on the ship, the focus on simplicity, modularity, and function over the desire to dress it up as anything more than it was. There were parts that looked almost like mining gear, crisscrossed metal struts supporting the wings, and the blocky machinery he assumed were engines at their end.

Hector strolled closer to the ship, laying a reverential hand on the hull and setting the machinery inside thrumming to life with just his touch. “Top of the line.”

“Of course.” Kaya was walking alongside him, eyeballing every inch of the ship. She presumably knew a little more than Sylvas did about spacecraft since he hadn’t even know interstellar travel was possible until he’d been unceremoniously torn from his planet, but even with her superior knowledge, she couldn’t see any fault in it.

“I cannot say that I’m familiar with this particular design.” Malachai’s brows had drawn down, suspicion writ all over his features.

Hector shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Well, technically it doesn’t exist yet since this is still a prototype.”

Kaya had been carefully examining the ship up close and now called back over her shoulder, “Explains why there’s no maker marks.”

“Oh, there’s a maker mark.” Hector grinned. “I’ve painted it into the nameplate.”

They proceeded along the central body of the ship to behind the first set of wings and almost to the massive engine block at the rear, and there it was, painted onto the dark metal in a red paint to match the glow from within.

Sylvas read it aloud, “Ironfist’s Folly.”

“That’s right.” Hector looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Malachai tried to clarify. “Durgan Ironfist made this?”

“Or had it made for him, but… yeah.” Hector’s grin was now in danger of removing the top of his own head. “His own personal ship.”

“Then how have you got it?” Kaya finally took the bait.

Hector crouched down to her eye level and pointed up. “What’s that second part of the name up there?”

She looked at him sideways. “Folly?”

“Going all in with your own personal ship on the line and betting on nothing more than a pair of 12s… I’d call that folly.”

Malachai pinched the bridge of his nose so that his suddenly tortured expression couldn’t be seen. “You have a prototype ship built for one of the greatest shipwrights in the history of the Empyrean… because you beat him at a game of chance?”

“I did tell you being fun was important.” Hector clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

Malachai looked genuinely stunned but trailed along after the rest of them as they headed up the ramp and inside.

Careful Sylvas, Mira commented slyly as they walked. I might be falling in love with this man as well.

The boarding bay of the ship had a passage leading straight through to the pilot’s cabin and another straight back to the engine room and etherium storage. The rest of the ship was spread out a little more. Those central areas were as utilitarian and bare bones as Ironfist had originally designed them, but the moment that the eye strayed from them, flashes of color and interest began to perpetuate themselves. There was a thick fur rug underneath a fold-out table and bench that had been locked into place, with a pair of pretty well-established footprints in it where Hector liked to wriggle his toes into it when he ate his breakfast.

There were paintings hastily spellbound to almost every bare patch of wall that a person wasn’t liable to bump into. A clashing, chaotic mixture of colors and art styles from around the universe, most of which were entirely unfamiliar to Sylvas, who admittedly wasn’t much of an appreciator of fine art to begin with.

What had probably originally been some sort of armory near the entry ramp had now become a pantry, with wafts of exotic spices spreading from its bulging cabinets throughout the ship and a smoked side of beef dangling from what had once been a weapons rack.

Ah…to eat again, Mira whispered at the sight. Perhaps there will be some luxury here after all.

“Should we have to fend off invading dinner guests, we will be well-equipped.” Malachai finally got the chance to make a sarcastic comment and feel more in control again.

“Space travel is long periods of doing nothing interspersed with a few seconds of absolute terror,” Hector explained. “Some people read; I cook.”

Kaya looked absolutely delighted when she pulled open a storage closet at random and found a stack of cheeses. “Looks like we won’t be going hungry on this job, eh?”

Sylvas still wasn’t sure what to make of all this. It felt strange, like they were invading Hector’s home instead of joining him in a communal workspace. Then again, he supposed that as a ship’s crew, this would be their home, shared, whether they wanted it to be or not. Maybe further down the line, once he had passed this training period with Hector, he’d end up with a ship of his own, shaped to his tastes and interests.

Hopefully, I’ll develop some tastes and interests between now and then. He thought idly, hearing a snicker from Mira in the back of his mind.

Their quarters were limited in size by both the size of the ship and the fact that the three of them were sharing what looked to be hastily retrofitted bunk beds in a single cabin, while Hector had the other to himself. But given that his room was now stuffed full of all the miscellaneous detritus of a life well-lived that had previously been stored in what was now their cabin, it was hard to feel too put out about it. They’d just been dumped on him out of the blue, and he hadn’t just made space for them, he’d given up half of his space to do it.

“I call the bottom bunk,” Kaya said the moment she saw their cabin.

“Surely, it would be more logical for the person who is the shortest to take the top bunk.” Malachai stepped in behind her, ducking through the rounded doorframe that clearly wasn’t meant for people of human stature. “So that they are less likely to bang their head on the roof every time they wake up.”

Kaya rubbed at her tattooed chin. “Well, logically, you should have called bottom bunk first.”

Sylvas took in the rather spartan-looking room, now stripped of all Hector’s personality to try and make them feel more welcome. It just left the room feeling cold, all the mechanical parts exposed. “Malachai, if you’re worried about hitting the roof, I’ll take the top bunk.”

Malachai rounded on him. “Please do not misunderstand me. I have no concerns for my own wellbeing in this situation, I simply think that we should be making decisions in a less arbitrary way.”

“Do you want the top or the middle?” Sylvas didn’t sigh, but it was an effort. There would be no point arguing with Kaya, so he was stuck arguing with Malachai about something he literally could not care less about.

“It seems equally unfair to you that Ms. Runemaul was allowed to…”

Kaya was already lying on her bunk, stretching out. “Sylvas doesn’t sleep, so he doesn’t care. Just take whichever one you like.”

“You don’t sleep?” Hector had stuck his head into the cabin when it seemed like there might be an argument brewing. “I didn’t see anything in your Paradigms about…”

“She’s exaggerating.” Sylvas stopped that train of thought before he had to actually consider how little sleep he let himself get. “I just… keep busy.”

Oh, darling, don’t say it like that. Now you sound like a notorious self-abuser.

“Well, if you thought you were busy before, just imagine how busy you’re going to be flying this chunk all around the galaxy.” Hector slapped the doorframe, and the sound echoed along the length of the ship.

It took Sylvas a moment to understand what was being said. “You’re going to let me pilot?”

“Let you pilot? Are you kidding?” Sylvas shrank back slightly before Hector’s wolfish grin reappeared. “I’ve finally got my very own gravity mage to zoom me around, and you think I’m ever lifting a finger again? It’s all you, all the way, kid.”

“Then would it be alright if I took a look at the cockpit?”

“It’s your cockpit, kid. It’s your ship as far as I’m concerned. Make yourselves at home. Poke around where you think you’re not wanted. I don’t have any secrets.” Hector stepped back out of the doorway, and Sylvas couldn’t keep his own smile from showing as he ducked through to the main passageway and then headed to the front of the ship. Power thrummed through it. There were spells woven into the engines, meant to be powered by either the pilot or etherium in case of emergencies, designed to allow them to move around without needing to cast anything more substantial, but woven through the structure of the rest of the ship, there were the more important magics. The ones that would tie to jump gates or to Sylvas’ own teleportation spells. The ones that would allow them to travel the breadth of the universe faster than light could. It was that magic that he could feel tingling at the periphery of his senses even now.

It was as though he’d been built specifically with this purpose in mind. Made from birth to fly a spaceship, even though his world hadn’t even had any. And, of course, on top of that original-born Sylvas, he’d made all of his own adjustments since he’d discovered his affinity for gravity. Adjustments that at the time had felt like they were just logical steps to address the problems in his fighting abilities, but which now formed a more coherent whole. That made the ship feel like a natural extension of his body, and his body a natural extension of the ship. Even the magic that he'd carved into his bones was replicated along the struts of the ship’s hull.

When he arrived in the cockpit, the first thing he realized was that Hector clearly hadn’t had time to clean up in there before they arrived.

The second thing he realized was that he was home.