Aura Overload

21 – A Voice in the Dark

You changed your report, Evie—some of the language is different.

//My goal is clarity, though I should note that I am rounding up on your Speed Boost. Each unit will grant closer to 2.964 to your Speed attribute. Returns will diminish as you add more and more aura—not enough to be concerned with until you’re applying more than 90.//

Hector snorted. It would be a long time before his aura pathways could handle anything close to that much of a boost. Six or seven would be all right, he figured, but more than that and it would be aura overload for him. He looked at the report again, focusing on the available boosts and abilities:

Critical Eye: Enter an aura-induced combat trance that will temporarily enable you to more precisely land devastating strikes. Purchase Cost: 12 aura potentia

Shadow Stalk: Gather shadows, eschew light, and mask your presence from the watchful eyes of your prey. The air grows still around you, holding your scent close and muffling the sounds of your passage. Purchase Cost: 25 aura potentia

Aura Tempering: Enhance the capabilities of your standard Aura Blade. Purchase Cost: 30 aura potentia

I’ve never seen aura tempering before.

//I believe it’s an uncommon ability. I named it based on an interview in my database with an early-Empire Praetorian named Judicus. He mentioned a “tempering” ability that improved the quality of his aura blade.//

Hector was intrigued. My blade’s already better than most.

//Yes, I’m not exactly sure how it will improve, but based on the aura connections, I’m certain it will.//

Hector shifted his attention to the other two abilities. Both sounded good—perfect, in fact, for his style, though he doubted he’d get much use out of Critical Eye until he’d gained more levels; his pathways simply couldn’t handle much beyond his Speed Boost, and speed was king when it came to his current talents.

You don’t know how much Shadow Stalk will cost? Is it a one-time expenditure, or do I have to channel it?

//You’ll need to channel it, but based on the pathways, I can say it will be significantly more efficient than Aura Blade.//

Considering Aura Blade cost two aura per second, Hector certainly hoped Evie was right; being able to conceal himself sounded ideal, but it wouldn’t be much use if he burned through his aura in thirteen seconds. At the thought, he looked at his aura pool—26/26. It was almost comical next to his absurdly large bank of potentia. “I need to build this up,” he muttered.

//Unfortunately, your Reaver archetype doesn’t have any boosts available that directly enhance available aura. Gaining levels will help, and there’s always a chance that you’ll unlock boosts that will—//

I know how it works, Evie. I have to spend potentia—gain levels and purchase abilities—in order to unlock more. Go ahead, start my next level advancement and then buy all three of these boosts. I might as well see what happens.

//64 potentia applied. Corpus Vivum conditioning has begun. Approximately 15 hours to complete level advancement. Disorientation, weakness, and even fleeting incapacitation may occur. Extra caloric intake is recommended.//

//Critical Eye ability purchased for 12 aura potentia. Initiating aura pathway propagation. This process will be relatively mild…

Shadow Stalk ability purchased for 25 aura potentia. Initiating aura pathway propagation. This process may cause moments of sensory overload…

Aura Tempering purchased for 30 aura potentia. Initiating aura pathway propagation. This process will be mild, but it may affect the readiness of your Aura Blade ability. It is recommended that you avoid using the ability during this process…

Integration of purchased abilities and boosts will be complete in 6 to 7 hours.//

Hector sighed, wishing there were some way he could speed up the leveling process. If he weren’t mistaken, he’d have enough potentia left over to buy several more.

//You have 316 aura potentia remaining.//

“Right, thanks,” he said, grunting softly as he sat up on his bedroll. The cave was quiet, but when he moved, Kristy stirred, inhaling sharply as she realized she’d fallen asleep.

“Mmph,” she grunted, stretching. “Hector? You were sure out of it, buddy.”

“How long have you slept?” he asked, standing.

“Just thirty minutes.”

“Keep sleeping, then.”

She started to get up, protesting, “Someone should—”

“Sleep. One of the others will wake you when it’s their turn.” He picked up his rifle, clipped it onto his belt gimbal, then glanced at Kristy to see if she would argue. She was asleep.

Pressure in his bladder steered Hector toward the mules and the screened off area they’d set up as a latrine. The bluish-black polymer curtain was mounted to the cave wall with two adhesive strips, and when he slipped behind it, there was just enough space to unbuckle his belt and greaves.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

A toilet might seem like a luxury when it came to rift equipment, especially considering the mules’ limited payload, but the safe, scentless disposal of human waste helped reduce the odds of certain roving rift denizens sniffing them out. He opened the lid of the bucket-shaped contraption, a fan started up, drawing air into the processor, and then he relieved himself, his piss gurgling down into the processing tubes. If he waited a few seconds, he could watch the result—purified water—get pumped into the attached holding tank.

Hector didn’t wait, though. He closed the lid, buckled himself up, and then walked over to Paige and Bobby. The two looked up, watching him approach. They were sitting on their bedrolls, apart from the techs, and they both looked more than a little run-down. “Why not sleep a bit?” Hector asked, standing over them.

“Waiting for the rain to stop,” Paige replied, “so I can get the drone up ASAP.”

Hector shook his head. “You’ll do a better job if you’re rested.” Looking at Bobby, he asked, “What about you? Find anything in that rock sample you took?” He nodded toward the narrow, dark crevice in the cavern wall.

“I was hoping for similite, but was surprised to find traces of veritite. If we have time, I’ll try digging a bit, expanding that opening. If we can pull out a few ounces of the stuff, it’ll help offset our losses.”

Hector rubbed his chin as he regarded the fissure. There were certain things that lurked in the depths of the rift world, and he didn’t want to risk stirring any of them up.

“It’s what they use in gravity manipulation tech.” Paige said, mistaking Hector’s silent contemplation for a lack of understanding.

Hector voiced his concern: “You have maps of the cave system, yeah? I don’t want you opening up a nest of stripe vipers or something.”

Bobby nodded. “I’ll use sonar mapping before I do any digging. If there’s a cavity, I’ll insert a micro-probe.”

Changing the subject, Paige gestured to the tunnel leading out. “I was thinking we should put some more drop curtains up—block the light and sound we’re making.”

“Smells too,” Bobby added.

Hector turned to regard the mules. “I didn’t know we had more.” He nodded slowly. “It’s a good idea. Can you two do that?”

“Of course,” Paige replied.

“Sleep when you’re done. We’ll wake you when the rain quits.”

When Paige nodded, Hector turned and walked into the tunnel leading out. He passed the moist, acrid-smelling earth that had been the rock hanger’s nest and paused, kicking his foot through the damp, dark stuff. Was it soil or just waste? He supposed it didn’t matter—not to him, but maybe to Paige. He was a little surprised she wasn’t sifting through it, running samples through her little science kit.

Movement in the corner of his eye startled him, and Hector looked up to see Perry’s shadow looming against the stormy sky. “Get enough sleep?” the big man asked, a little of his old sneer coloring the words.

Hector didn’t bite. He reached up to his helmet, touched the button to lower and secure his visor, then said, “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Perry didn’t move, but the angular yellow-tinted eyes on his helmet regarded Hector for a moment before he said, “I’m just busting your balls.”

“I know.” Hector gestured to the deeper recesses of the cave. “Go on. I’ll watch for a few hours.”

“What about Fred?”

“I’ll send him behind you. We might as well stagger our sleep schedules. Kristy’s already been out a little while.”

Perry nodded, clapping Hector on the shoulder as he passed by. “Nothing going on out there, anyway.”

Did he have to say that?

//Remember what Tribune Sanguinus said to the troops during the Meridian Revolt? Right before the drop?//

“We make our own luck,” Hector replied, his mind’s eye rushing through a series of vivid memories—a white-knuckled drop through Earth’s thick atmosphere, grav-cannon rounds warping space enough to tug his drop-coffin off course, fiery water as he made his escape, then the rush of battle as he unleashed his aura and—

“Hector?” Freddy called from just outside the cave, interrupting the vivid flashback.

Damn, Evie. Why’d you bring that up?

//I’m sorry, I was trying to reassure you that Perry didn’t jinx us.//

“Yeah, it’s me,” Hector said, taking the last few steps to the tunnel opening. “How are things looking?”

“Good. Just rain out there. I hear things sometimes—noises that remind me of whale song. My AI says that’s how the titans communicate.”

“Yeah.” Hector leaned his shoulder against the stone, just behind one of the auto-turrets. “Did your AI have any idea how distant they were?”

“Not anywhere close.”

Hector nodded. “Good.” He jerked his thumb back toward the cavern. “Go on. Get some rest. I’ll want you up and ready when I head out to scout.”

Freddy stared at him for a moment, maybe wondering if he ought to be taking orders from someone who refused to elaborate on their credentials for command. He was a Royal, after all—a member of a Great House; hadn’t he been raised to lead? Whether or not Hector was right about his thought process, after that heavy pause, Freddy just said, “Okay,” and walked into the cave.

Hector stared out into the rain, looking down the stony slope. He set the helmet’s AI to “sentry-mode” and let his mind wander, trusting the AI to keep an eye out for anomalies that he might miss, distracted as he was. For some reason, despite the many things to be concerned about, he kept coming back to Lemon, wondering if the Imperial investigators or maybe even the Ventress family were giving her a hard time.

Surely they’d be looking into the backgrounds of the people who’d been in the rift. There were probably a thousand bureaucrats losing their minds trying to figure out which terrorist group had done it—unless they already knew. He supposed there was a chance someone had claimed responsibility. Odds were it hadn’t been terrorists, though. Freddy’s presence made for too much of a coincidence. If Hector were guessing, it was probably someone in his own family.

He wondered if the kid had drawn the inevitable conclusion that his mother was either dead or in grave danger. Freddy didn’t strike him as stupid, so he had to assume he had, which moved him up a few notches in Hector’s book. It took some discipline not to show worry. Of course, the thought brought him back full circle to Lemon and her kid brother—the hell was I thinking getting her mixed up in all this? Considering their less than law-abiding backgrounds, he wondered if she and Grando’s men would be used as scapegoats.

“All the more reason not to die in here,” he muttered.

The last thing he expected was for someone to respond. A voice came out of the wet darkness, frail and hoarse, “Help!”

Hector stood up straight, shifted his rifle into his hands, and then took a couple of steps outside the cave, into the rain, so he could turn toward the sound. Sure enough, his helmet picked up the thermals right away—a humanoid figure crawling toward the cave over the rain-slick, stony ridge.

Not possible.

//The voice matches Commander Mathews.//

I know. Hector hesitated, his mind racing down avenues of impossibility.

“That you, Red?” the voice called, and Hector frowned. If she didn’t have her helmet, he supposed she might not have a clear view of him. “Damn it! Help me before those cats come back!”

Hector started toward her, but not before speaking into comms, “Freddy, come back. Mathews is here.”

“What?” he replied immediately. “I saw her, man. She was bled out—helmet cracked, burned.”

“Yeah. I’m checking it out.” Hector approached the crawling figure. He wasn’t stupid; he was well-acquainted with aura fiends, after all. Still, he’d seen people who seemed dead come back to life, usually thanks to nanites or potent aura abilities. He had to be sure.

“Oh, it’s you, Hector,” Mathews said, grimacing up at him as she dragged herself another meter over the slick stone. “Could’ve left an easier trail for me to follow.”

“Freddy said you were dead,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Funny,” Mathews said, coughing wetly. “He’s the one who tried to kill me.”