what we do.”
“Except when we
take orders from one,” another obstech muttered.
Sarjan glared
at the crewman. “I didn’t see that we had too many options, did
you?”
“We’re clearing
the way for him to rule us, sir.”
“Just until we
hunt him down, too; he’s done us a favour, bringing a stealth ship
into the world.”
“He’ll probably
destroy the ship when he’s finished with us.”
“Then we’ll
build another one,” the commander said.
“Sir, look at
this!”
Sarjan went
over to the senior obstech’s station and peered at his screen with
a frown. “Fiends. Bloody hell, there’s a lot of them.”
“Why don’t the
people see them?”
“Maybe they’re
invisible.”
“Or they look
human.”
Sarjan
straightened, staring at the screen. “It must be because Parsimon
is a dra’voren.”
“If they look
like people, they could be everywhere. There could be some on the
ship.”
Sarjan shook
his head. “There can’t be, or they’d have destroyed it long
ago.”
“I thought they
were all destroyed by the first stealth ship; the one that was
built in Bayona.”
“Apparently
not.”
The obstech
looked up at Sarjan. “There are enough of them down there to keep a
flotilla of stealth ships busy for decades.”
“Let’s
concentrate on getting rid of the dra’voren first.”
Bane glanced at
Kayos. “If I destroy a few demons, do you suppose they will trust
me?”
“Probably
not.”
The Demon Lord
sighed and sipped his ambrosia. “What fools they are.”
Sarjan gazed at
the main screen, where a geometrically designed building clad
almost entirely in mirror glass grew larger. “Do we know if
President Parsimon is in residence?”
“If he’s a
dra’voren, we’ll soon find out,” an obstech replied.
“Find out
now.”
“Yes sir.” The
man tapped keys on his console and read the glowing screen.
“According to the latest intelligence reports, he’s here.”
“Do a full scan
of the building.”
A minute
passed, then the obstech said, “A lot of fiends inside, and
something else. It appears to be in the basement, a source of dark
power. Even more fiends down there.”
“Keep
scanning.”
A beeping alarm
broke the hush, and everyone jumped. The senior obstech said,
“There! He’s in the east wing, top floor, with several fiends.”
“His office,”
Sarjan said. “So, the dra’voren was right.” He sat at an empty
station and keyed a device Bane now knew was a communications’
relay. “Pilot, target area is the east wing, top floor.”
“There’s a
dra’voren in there?” the pilot’s surprised voice enquired.
“Yes. It’s in
President Parsimon’s office.”
“Right.”
The ship
drifted around the building, turning as it did so, its bow pointing
at the east wing of the structure. Flying vehicles zipped past, a
few swerving to avoid the ship their pilots could not see. The
chief obstech leant closer to his screen, his eyes intent.
“Pilot, pass
control to the observation room,” Sarjan ordered.
“Yes sir. You
have control.”
Sarjan typed on
his keyboard, glancing often at his scanner screen, which showed
the location of the dra’voren. Bane went over to stand behind him,
and Kayos joined him. Glowing green crosshairs inched towards a
black form on the scanner screen, which appeared to be seated in a
chair.
Sarjan keyed
the com-unit again. “Containment, prepare for capture.”
“Generators
online, sir.”
The crosshairs
reached their target, and stopped. Sarjan’s hand hung poised over a
red button for a moment, then he pushed it. On the main screen, a
flash of blue light came from the upper floor window of the
building, and the black form on the scanner screen vanished.
Sarjan leapt up
and dashed to the lift doors. Bane and Kayos took a more direct
route through the floor, and arrived in the containment room well
ahead of the commander. The containment techs crowded around the
shredder room window, staring at the lean, well-built
“Except when we
take orders from one,” another obstech muttered.
Sarjan glared
at the crewman. “I didn’t see that we had too many options, did
you?”
“We’re clearing
the way for him to rule us, sir.”
“Just until we
hunt him down, too; he’s done us a favour, bringing a stealth ship
into the world.”
“He’ll probably
destroy the ship when he’s finished with us.”
“Then we’ll
build another one,” the commander said.
“Sir, look at
this!”
Sarjan went
over to the senior obstech’s station and peered at his screen with
a frown. “Fiends. Bloody hell, there’s a lot of them.”
“Why don’t the
people see them?”
“Maybe they’re
invisible.”
“Or they look
human.”
Sarjan
straightened, staring at the screen. “It must be because Parsimon
is a dra’voren.”
“If they look
like people, they could be everywhere. There could be some on the
ship.”
Sarjan shook
his head. “There can’t be, or they’d have destroyed it long
ago.”
“I thought they
were all destroyed by the first stealth ship; the one that was
built in Bayona.”
“Apparently
not.”
The obstech
looked up at Sarjan. “There are enough of them down there to keep a
flotilla of stealth ships busy for decades.”
“Let’s
concentrate on getting rid of the dra’voren first.”
Bane glanced at
Kayos. “If I destroy a few demons, do you suppose they will trust
me?”
“Probably
not.”
The Demon Lord
sighed and sipped his ambrosia. “What fools they are.”
Sarjan gazed at
the main screen, where a geometrically designed building clad
almost entirely in mirror glass grew larger. “Do we know if
President Parsimon is in residence?”
“If he’s a
dra’voren, we’ll soon find out,” an obstech replied.
“Find out
now.”
“Yes sir.” The
man tapped keys on his console and read the glowing screen.
“According to the latest intelligence reports, he’s here.”
“Do a full scan
of the building.”
A minute
passed, then the obstech said, “A lot of fiends inside, and
something else. It appears to be in the basement, a source of dark
power. Even more fiends down there.”
“Keep
scanning.”
A beeping alarm
broke the hush, and everyone jumped. The senior obstech said,
“There! He’s in the east wing, top floor, with several fiends.”
“His office,”
Sarjan said. “So, the dra’voren was right.” He sat at an empty
station and keyed a device Bane now knew was a communications’
relay. “Pilot, target area is the east wing, top floor.”
“There’s a
dra’voren in there?” the pilot’s surprised voice enquired.
“Yes. It’s in
President Parsimon’s office.”
“Right.”
The ship
drifted around the building, turning as it did so, its bow pointing
at the east wing of the structure. Flying vehicles zipped past, a
few swerving to avoid the ship their pilots could not see. The
chief obstech leant closer to his screen, his eyes intent.
“Pilot, pass
control to the observation room,” Sarjan ordered.
“Yes sir. You
have control.”
Sarjan typed on
his keyboard, glancing often at his scanner screen, which showed
the location of the dra’voren. Bane went over to stand behind him,
and Kayos joined him. Glowing green crosshairs inched towards a
black form on the scanner screen, which appeared to be seated in a
chair.
Sarjan keyed
the com-unit again. “Containment, prepare for capture.”
“Generators
online, sir.”
The crosshairs
reached their target, and stopped. Sarjan’s hand hung poised over a
red button for a moment, then he pushed it. On the main screen, a
flash of blue light came from the upper floor window of the
building, and the black form on the scanner screen vanished.
Sarjan leapt up
and dashed to the lift doors. Bane and Kayos took a more direct
route through the floor, and arrived in the containment room well
ahead of the commander. The containment techs crowded around the
shredder room window, staring at the lean, well-built
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