Elementis 1: The Heir to the Stone (31 page)

Jonas flew through the path of an exploding koble. His ship rumbled, sliding out to the side as he wrestled with the flight sticks to bring his fighter back into control. An explosion above his windshield thrust his ship backwards. The brightness of the flame sunk deep into his eyes, taking his sight. A loud bang came from below him. He couldn't see what he'd hit, his orientation was lost. He spun. Shapes and lights flashed into his damaged eyes as his spin took him out of control.

Spectrum's voice called out, "We’re losing too many, we can’t sustain this attack!"

Menace threw her panicked voice into his ears, "I can’t hold them off. They just keep coming!"

Sweat dripped down Jonas's face; he knew he'd be dead any second. His hands shook out of control, pulling left and right, pushing up and down on the control sticks. This was his end. Any moment he would feel the spirits collecting his soul, watching the end of this world unfold from the next. Perhaps his mother would be there to take him in her arms; death did not seem so final with such a thought. Images of his life flooded his mind; the kind wrinkled face of Lina flashed on top of the flame that burned in his eyes. He saw his old cold stone room on Rilk, a place he once called home to which he would never return; the faces of Hok and Ell spun through his mind; the dark nights on Kroyto; Twain's heroic baby face as he pulled a blaster on him, shooting over his head on the day his life had no return to normality; and Lynk, the temperless droid who lost his head with the mean flick of a sanga; the birthmarked face of Calyx, standing upon the balcony at Mercron—even in this state Jonas felt the mutual anger that had formed between them; his father etched on top of the brightness, his long flowing hair dressed his thoughtful face, blowing in the warm winds of Enterra; and Willow, removing her hood under the beauty of Valo's light, capturing his eyes forever.

"Jonas! Jonas, listen to me!" The voice was Willow's. "Calm your mind," she called out to him.

The images inside his mind vanished back to the flashes of burning light that stunted his sight. Jonas took a breath through his nostrils deep into his lungs as if letting his mind feed from the oxygen and soothe every sense in his body. The rosiness of his blood-filled face began to drain back to its normal paler complexion. His sight was restoring to a sharper focus, and the shape of his hands holding onto the ship's control sticks blinked back into place. Jonas saw no battle around him as his eyes began to work again. There were no gun blasts, no explosions.

"Willow—this is the end, it’s all over!" he expressed out loud with utter hopelessness.

She heard his sorrow from where she stood in the throne room watching her grandfather who only had concern for the puffed fireballs of the koble fighters outside of his window. The risk of speaking to Jonas was great but she felt something cry out inside of her, something that had told her Jonas needed her. Willow fed her deepest spirit deeper still into Jonas's soul, "Turn your mind to the converted fantom soldiers. You are stronger than the Zohr. Only you can defeat him."

Jonas's sight lost the last of the flaring fragments caught in his eyes. Gazing around he could see that his fighter floated above the atmosphere of planet Aquilla. From this close in, the outer glare of the green globe had disappeared and the sights of the blue oceans of the world, the green of the land and the ruptured rocky mountain ranges below calmed his heart to a gentle pulse.

The words of the princess sank into his thoughts. "I have no formula, I cannot do it," he said, defeated.

"Then, you have failed and everything will die!" Willow told him.

Jonas strained his eyes. He rolled his fighter around, losing the soft glow of Aquillas luminance, seeing only the battle between blue and silver light violating the space above him. He closed his eyes and as Willow had said, he calmed his mind and searched for the pain-filled eyes of a dydrid fantom, the only one he knew.

"Sorc, speak to me. Where are you?" his silent voice called out through space.

He waited, there was no reply.

A flash of a view from Sorc's eyes was caught in Jonas's mind. The image was unclear. It came and went in an instant. "Sorc, your mind is your own. Free yourself. Look into my eyes."

Jonas's heart raced into orbit as a familiar voice spoke to his minds ear. "I see you, Prince Jonas. Help me. I do not want to fight for him anymore," a gruff voice said.

Their minds and eyes connected. Jonas saw from where Sorc stood inside of Mercron, looking out upon the fire and destruction. Koble fighters squirmed through the darkness and died in the light. And gripped within the dark-skinned hands of Sorc were the triggers of a three-barrelled tri-blaster. Sorc fired with unnatural instinct upon the helpless pilots attacking the city.

"You can be free. You do not have to fight for him. Fight for us. End your slavery," Jonas urged in all sincerity.

Sorc shot twice more, destroying a life with both blasts. One more triple bolt stung off into space and his fingers loosened from the triggers. Sorc stopped tracking the fighters with the sight of his blaster.

"I cannot do it alone," Sorc hesitated, stolen of all confidence and belief in himself as a person.

"You once knew your own mind. Take it back. I will speak to your friends. I will help you." Jonas promised.

"And I will join you." Sorc said.

Neither Jonas nor Sorc could see each other's faces, but somewhere inside them, their smiles were felt as much as if they were standing in front of one another. Jonas broke away from the connection, still far out from the battle and watching the massacre unfold above. He filled his lungs with calming breaths as he had done when the Zohr had sealed his fate in the darkness of that chromium tomb. He closed his eyes, and strained every muscle in his body to the point of rupturing his semi-metal veins. He struggled with his mind, dropped his head into his chest, wailing from deep in his throat, pushing all of his energy up into his mind. He fell silent, lifting his head with sparkling eyes of silver. Peace flowed inside of him, taking him to a place where his imagination ruled the world.

Jonas didn't think what to say, the words revealed themselves from the depths of his mind and transmitted out into space with the unquestionable thought that every converted fantom soldier would hear his calling. "Fantom soldiers, I am Jonas, protector of the Elementis. Your minds are free to do as they will. I relieve you from the command of your Zohr. Fight with us. Join us and re-take your lives. Gunners, destroy Mercron; infantry, take control of your true enemy; pilots, turn your fire and fight. From this day on we live in peace."

*

The Zohr was aware of the presence of a new mind, a Maven's mind. Jonas's words resounded through his metal skull. He watched from his throne as the fearsome exchange of plasma outside his window all but stopped. The boy had found the strength that Oreaus had strived to create for his own race. He had found the perfect mind that the Zohr craved to give each one of his children. Even he, the most powerful Maven to live, was absorbed by how effective Jonas's mind had become. A satisfaction fed into his tainted soul that he was the creator of such a mind. Without his dedication to create and rule one race, Jonas would never have been born. The Zohr only rued that where the ideals of power lived within his own being, the pitiful wart of goodness lived inside of Jonas's. He had to destroy the perfection he had created. If he could use the Elementis on the boy once again without giving him time to counter thought, he would be free to resume his rule.

The Zohr closed his seething eyes, calling on his deepest thoughts and sending them to his fantoms to fight against their own strengthening will. But all he heard were the fantoms voices that Jonas had heard so many times before, only now they overwhelmed him with thank-yous and the awakened calls of freed spirits.

Thousands of tri-blasters twisted backwards, aiming down at the unscathed body of Mercron. They fired in unison, riddling the exoskeleton with explosions of oxygen being released and ignited from beneath the hull. The Zohr's thoughts were shaken with the quaking of Mercron. He leapt from his throne, stepping closer to the window, watching a wall of shadows returning to attack, flying wing by wing beside the enemy as they swooped and sunk their fire deeper into the ruptured hull. Warning alarms raised havoc through the city corridors, which now filled with men of all organic creeds who fought for the freedom of all. A scaly-faced crewman drew a blaster. "We're taking this ship!" he threatened, pointing his weapon at the Zohr. Mutus blasted the crewman, who crumbled to the metal deck before he got a shot away at the former ruler of his mind. The throne room was sealed shut with heavy doors and the ship shuddered and echoed with blaster impacts.

The Zohr took his seat with a face full of enigmatic thought. "This boy is beginning to annoy me," he said to Mutus. "Kill every traitor on this ship. Their minds have been breached."

*

Menace and Spectrum flew amongst the floating wrecks of ships and calmed their engines, noticing that space had become all too peaceful.

"Spec, look! They’re shooting at themselves!" Menace radioed across.

Spectrum looked down to see the guns of Mercron firing upon themselves with enemy fighters drifting above the surface, ploughing fire into their own ship.

"Well I’ll be damned," Spectrum said, sliding up his visor for a better look.

Jonas flew in and between the two of them as they watched the space city taking a pounding. "We just signed up some new recruits!" Jonas said, with his voice teetering between joy and smugness.

Spectrum looked across to him. "You know what, Spider…" he said, shaking his head, "…I never doubted you for a second!" They smiled, sharing a wry moment of wit, something of a rarity for Spectrum.

*

Within the rushing veins of the clawed city the converted fantoms took on the battle of bringing down those whose minds were still under one rule. Snarling beasts with arms the size of a man pushed purebred soldiers in a hold against the wall, tearing at their bodies and crushing into their armour with heavy blows. Blaster bolts flew down the dark corridors lighting up images of the hatred and strength in the faces of those that had endured too many years of slavery. Every freed being was prepared to destroy the city and die in space with it in order to save the lives of all others who the Zohr wished to infect with his power.

Mutus held on to a spike at the back of the Zohr's throne as Mercron rocked and tumbled. The Zohr kept steady on his feet, almost knowing which way the ship would rock. He desired to have Jonas in front of him. He wanted to return the Elementis back into its rightful place on his arm and destroy the boy. He eyed the shining white koble fighters with disgust, knowing that the wasted mind of Jonas was out there inside one of them.

A sharp tilt sent an approaching crewman stumbling down on his hands and knees in front of the Zohr's black boots. "Mercron is going down, my Zohr, power is at 30 percent and falling," he said.

The Zohr kept his gaze on the renegade shadows out of his window. "I will face this child one last time!" he said, with nothing but death in his eyes.

The ship fell through space, pulled back by the forces of Aquilla and propelled by what little power remained. None of the crew would dare express it but they knew that the undestroyable Mercron had been overcome.

A modest thought of pride touched the spirit within Jonas's body as he became all too aware that he was responsible for saving the lives floating away on the hundreds of pods evacuating from the burning space city. The thoughts of pride were followed by a sobering reality. It wasn't over, not yet. Amongst the evacuating pods came a new wave of shadows, piloted by the purebreds.

Jonas tapped in to speak with the Tylis. "Father, Mercron's coming down."

Uly's voice came back from Aquilla with a grave disdain of worry, "Jonas, are you ready for him?"

"I was born ready father!" Jonas said.

No more was said. Both father and son were well aware of the dangers that the final battle would bring. Even though Jonas was beginning to find and use the powers of his ancestry, the Zohr had hate and desire way beyond those that Jonas could muster.

"Wish me luck!" Jonas said, nodding a fond farewell to his protectors flying beside him.

"Do you need us with you?" Spectrum said.

"No, Spec, you take care of the shadows, leave the Zohr to me!" Jonas insisted, pulling away from the group with a brave smile and a heavy heart, knowing he may never see them again.

"Good luck, my friend," Spectrum wished.

*

Burning in flames and glowing all over with the heat of re-entry into the atmosphere, Mercron returned from its failed universal takeover, and Jonas followed through the stratosphere, noting to himself that he wouldn't like to be onboard when that colossal chunk of metal ploughed into the ground. Maybe luck would take his side for today and the Zohr would be crushed by the impact. Though perhaps, he thought, luck was not the right word considering he wanted so much to see Willow again. He reached a longing arm behind his ear and touched the handle of Willow's sword to make sure the skulled head was still safely guarded by the sheath against his spine. The only luck he could hope for was to not let Willow see him die.

*

Three units remained for Twain to secure and there was still no sign of his mother. Every time he scaled across a rock face his heart beat faster with the thought that she would be inside that unit, and every time she wasn't his hopeful eyes returned to sorrow. The thought crossed Twain's mind that the fantoms patrolling the cliffs above may have been called back to Mercron to embark on whatever evil crusade the Zohr had mapped out. He would then have at least been able to scale the cliff, decode the security doors and release everyone. Unfortunately for them, food and drink still shot down the pipe system previously used to dump metal parts for recycling. This meant the soldiers were still there and the Zohr wanted to keep the cythereans alive for at least a little longer. Twain wished he had some clue as to what was going on out there. How Jonas was doing. If he was even still alive. The waiting had become too tedious by now.