Spaceships and Magic, What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

The blaze of white light came to an end, and once again we had been transported completely, straight into another room. 

The room we were in now was much smaller than the Observation Deck we had been on before. 

We stood in the centre of the room, a sliding door behind me, and an empty desk with a human-rated chair in front. From my knowledge of shows like Star Trek, this looked a lot like a Captain's Ready Room, adjacent to the bridge. 

"Right, if we're going to be picking up a bunch of scared refugees, I'm going to need security down in the Cargo Bay," I said. "Akash and Vadton, you're the two most physically imposing people around, I want you to go down there and keep order. Yr'Arl and Rin, go with them and try to be personable, reassure people that we know what we're doing and we're going to make sure everyone's just fine, okay?" 

"Of course, Squadron Leader," Vadton spoke, perhaps for the first time since I had seen them in the tournament. Their voice was low and grating, like metal scarping across a stone floor. It sent a shiver down my spine. 

"The rest of you, I'm sure you've had a horrible and frantic time. Please, find out where your quarters are and get some much-needed rest," I continued. "In a few hours, we'll rotate the groups out and have those who are resting now look after the refugees." 

With that, I dismissed everyone and all but collapsed into my chair. 

It had been a hell of a day. 

All I wanted to do was find a bed, curl up in it, and sleep for another week. 

Part of me wondered if I was still actually in the magically induced coma that I had been put into after our excursion to the underwater Clan Pren base, but that was just wishful thinking. 

So many had died. So much had changed. 

<Well, wallowing here in lethargy, self-doubt and self-pity isn't going to do much,> BB cut in. <Do I have to bring up the whiny crybaby speech again so soon?>

I all but growled at the AI's interruption. All I wanted to do was rest. 

<Look, Jacob. You can rest, sure. But you can't rest yet. Resting is for when we've cleared the base and are on our way to whatever dirtball world Actaeon is, okay?>

"Fine," I hissed under my breath, "I guess I can rest when I'm dead." 

Wearily I stood back up from the chair, twisted my neck from side to side to work out the kinks, and walked toward the door I had sent my core group through. 

The door opened up into the stereotypical bridge of a starship, once again startlingly similar to the sort of tech and layout that was present in a show like Star Trek. 

In the centre of the room was a comfy looking chair, clearly outfitted for a humanoid body type. It looked plush and comfy, the perfect thing for me to sit in on long weary space journeys. 

Both arms of the chair had an indent for my palms and fingers, I figured for some kind of neural interface. 

<You think one mind can run the whole ship through a neural link? What are you, bonkers?> BB said, <Well, of course, you are, I already knew that. Anyway, no, the hand indents are channelling points for you to push your Manna through the system. It will be keyed into your manna signature and will allow you to channel your manna into the weapons of the ship.>

That was pretty cool. It would be as if I were still fighting if we ever engaged in ship to ship combat, with my own power going through the system. I wondered if that meant I would be able to leverage some of my untapped latent manna, surely if I were just channelling it into a more powerful system my body would be able to handle the load. 

<Maybe. Probably. I don't know. Probably something best left untested until we really need the extra boost,> BB suggested, one I thought was quite wise. 

Ahead of the captain's chair were two more, though these were made of the same beanbag material that the chairs in the Initiate Waiting Room were made from, ready to be morphed into any shape the user wished. In front of them were holo grid projectors, presumably to bring up a display unit for the people that would sit in them. 

In front of those two chairs was a massive viewscreen, which at present showed nothing other than the lunar surface and the inky blackness of space beyond. 

I let out a long breath. 

Seeing space like that, actually and properly, for the very first time was a bit of a headrush. Of course, I'd known that I had been teleported up to the surface of a moon, but to actually see it in front of me like that? The rocky crags, the dusty peaks of impossible mountains, the deep black darkness of space and the speckles of stars unhindered by the atmosphere of an inhabited world.

It was incredible. There was no other word for it. 

Behind the captain's chair were arrays of computer banks built into the wall, each panel with another beanbag chair in front of it. 

All the beanbag chairs were filled, of course, with a variety of alien races. Some I recognised, there were two Lyrin and one of Lara's kind, and some that I didn't. I'd get to know all of them in due course. 

"Squadron Leader on the bridge!" Came a call from one of the aliens as I stepped my first foot into the room, all of the lifeforms in the room stood to attention as a mark of respect. 

"Uh," I said lamely, swallowing hard. "At ease, it's a pleasure to meet you all." 

The aliens resumed their seats, though all of them looked at me expectantly. I'd never really been one for giving speeches, but for this one, I'd have to try.