Galactic High

“Sephy! We’ve got another bot being belligerent over here!” Alora desperately called as she quickly moved between various groaning figures on the ground and rendered whatever magical aid she could to keep them alive with the school’s medical droids that had been reprogrammed to assist. She felt terrible for leaving so many of her friends and other fellow students still crying out in pain, but she remembered in the back of her mind a concept Jack had told her of from his home world while they were at the Temple of Hope assisting the healers.

Triage.

Saving as many survivors as she possibly could, even if it meant neglecting others.

“Medical treatment can only be administered during school hours,” the droid chirped unhelpfully.

“I’ll get the bot!” Nika groaned as she staggered up to where Alora had pointed.

“You should sit down!” Alora worriedly reprimanded the Kizun, who predictably shook her head in defiance.

“Fuck no, my wounds aren’t lethal and I’m still conscious.” She grunted as she roughly grabbed the floating drone, pulled some kind of pin out of one of her pockets and jammed it in place to hold something down. “Which is more than I can say for others here. That’ll sort it for now.”

She huffed as she stumbled to move back to Dante, who was looking very lethargic as he lay on the ground exhausted. “Stay with us Dante, you did what you could.”

Alora nodded in agreement as she moved to another patient. Shortly after Svaarti had been flung through the portal, closing it in the process, Dante had suddenly collapsed to the ground in a sudden heap, a motion that was quickly mimicked by several others nearby him, including Nika. Nobody had any idea what Dante had actually done, but all had agreed that he had done something big to help. Chiyo had done her best to make him comfortable as she went about doing tasks of her own, grabbing a spare coat from her school locker and wrapping it around the ‘dog’ who was weakly panting while watching everybody else with sad, pleading eyes.

A loud cry of surprise came from behind her, as one of the unconscious bodies suddenly woke up and madly flailed around in panic.

“Someone help me hold them down!” Alora called out as she tried to calm the student down in vain as they tried ripping their bandages off of them.

“I’m here!” A low rumble came from the side as several whitish-blue tentacles held down the flailing limbs. “Klikko! We’ll need some more bandages too!” Plooderoo called back to his date, the arachnid keeper from Luvia’s deathball team who was spinning some webs while a few others folded, cut and tied them into strips of cloth that were passed back.

Sleep. Chiyo soothingly told the patient as she placed one of her hands on the side of their head, the green-skinned student immediately slumping their head back to rest, antenna drooping as Plooderoo slowly lowered them back to the ground.

“Thanks, Plooderoo.” Alora sighed in relief.

“H-Have you seen Kizzarith anywhere?” the Ploothe asked.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Alora replied, placing a comforting hand on the giant’s shoulder. “There’s still people on the other side confirmed alive and well, though.”

“You’ve got some heavy hitters on that side too, that’s gotta count for something!” Kritch pointed out, with a few others nodding in agreement. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have them here out of danger with the others and I hope he’s gonna be alright, but if Jack was able to get the defences back online, everyone's chances go way up!”

“And Devil’s Daughter arrived with a High Threat Response team!” Sephy added. “It’ll be cleanup duties from here, so the worst of it should be over, but still. All those people…”

“If the Klowns have been beaten back then there is the possibility for the resurrection of any of the fallen.” Crill groaned from where he leaned against a nearby wall. “They will have taken what bodies they could for klownification, but any remaining could be revived, especially with the school bots…”

Such a thing after such an event would still cause heavy damage to their mental state. Chiyo cautioned. Of course we must try, but it may not work for those who have already fully passed on.

“Not to mention expensive,” Luvia sighed, fighting to stay up and awake. She had taken a heavy amount of damage from the fight, but refused to accept any help or instruction from Alora, insisting that she was fine and having no intention of looking weak in front of everyone else. Though with every minute she passed she looked even more worse for wear as she muttered something about ‘looking strong’…

She would need to lie down soon one way or the other…

“Clan Bharzum should cover whatever costs are needed!” Sveta Bharzum nervously spoke up as she looked around at the sad display all around them. “As a matter of honour, I have no doubt the elders will act to make this right!”

The crowd paused for a moment before Nika spoke up.

“We shall see,” the Kizun replied simply, a hint of doubt in her tone. “Right now we should focus on what we can do.”

“Especially those that we owe our lives to,” Vaal replied from where he was knelt down next to Svaarti. The Nirah had received the greatest priority from anyone who could help in any way. Coats and jackets had been laid on the ground to keep the unconscious wizard as comfortable as possible, and Greta had taken it upon herself to monitor her condition. Her breathing was weak, and Chiyo had confirmed extensive spell scarring all across her arms and chest.

But the worst part was her aura. The Ilithii could see cracks and fissures throughout it, with terrified emotions running rampant. Svaarti had used far more power than she was capable of safely using, and it had torn the Nirah apart.

Chiyo didn’t know if she could be healed from something like that.

“What even happened on the other side of the portal?” Nika tiredly asked as she paced up and down where it had dissipated, somehow hoping it would reappear for her to rush through and rejoin the fight. It would distract her from her wounds. “They shut it quickly by sending the Svaarti through, did the Klowns have reinforcements?”

“I don’t think so, the High Threat Response Team was already making landfall!” Greta Bharzum pointed out from the other side of Svaarti, also taking what care she could as she pressed a cold cloth to the Nirah’s forehead. “Devil’s Daughter was saying something, so maybe Svaartal was just following her advice….”

Alora, Nika, Chiyo and Sephy looked to one another, not believing that conclusion in the slightest.

Suddenly, a gap formed in the crowd as at the end of the corridor a shimmering light began to shine, as it grew in intensity and formed a dimensional rift.

Gasps emerged from all around the corridor as Svaartal emerged, torn and bloodied, with his sword in one hand and the recognisable staff of Devil’s Daughter in the other.

Taking in the wide eyes and expressions, Svaartal knew he had everyone’s attention as he raised Devil’s Daughter’s staff high before slamming it into the ground, sending fissures of hellfire rippling along the ground in waves of dark red light with a loud roar of power. Everyone immediately went quiet and gave the Nirah their full, undivided attention.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Svaartal announced to the stunned crowd, as Carrow perched on his shoulder, cawing challengingly at the various gazes of shock all around them.

“Where is my sister?”

*****

Captain Ivar Bharzum dashed forward as fast as his short legs could carry him, flanked by his squad of elite soldiers. They and several other groups had scrambled as soon as they had received word that their outpost was under attack and had been up in the air a minute after the first call for help had been received, gearing up during the flight as he received updates and reports.

It wasn’t good. Clusters of the Killer Klown’s forces had launched surprise attacks at specific points all over the city, and the confusion had delayed any sort of organised response. They had gotten here a mere fifteen minutes later, and he had been terrified that they had been too late.

Thankfully, his cousin Sigrin had organised an evacuation and defence, but the work was far from done. Their territory had to be purged of the unholy taint of Jingubash’s Children.

His heavy plasma rifle was hot in his hands, soot caking the thick, metal bands of his gauntlets from continuous fire, as he and his men obliterated any surviving Klowns they found, and had even relieved some wounded that Sigrin told him about. His younger cousin had quickly seized the initiative and pushed forward to the security nexus to guide them via the cameras, and she had notified them of groups of injured, and defenders that were still fighting the Klowns. He was trying to catch up to one that was fighting on his own that Sigrin wanted rescued as a priority for questioning, but they were moving very quickly, and leaving a very messy trail of gore to follow.

Eventually, he just caught up to them at a crossroads fighting a Klown Klasher of all things! This type of Klown had a reputation for being a powerful juggernaut in battle, yet as their group turned the corridor and charged in to assist, the Klown was blasted off her feet by the powerful warrior, who had spun around and planted his boot into their chest in a vicious kick that heavily dented the thick sheet of polkadot metal the Klown was wearing as armour. The warrior was covered in blood, much of it his own from several open wounds. Ivar had no idea how the boy was even alive.

As Ivar and his men raised their rifles to help finish off the Klown she lifted her head to get up. However, the warrior growled and sprinted at the armour-clad mutant, lashing out with a penalty kick so forceful that it blew the Klown’s helmeted head right off her body to fly past a terrified-looking soldier who dodged just in time, with what remained of the head smacking into the nearest wall.

“Holy shit!” one of the responders yelled in shock as he raised his rifle at the mysterious warrior. “What the hell is that motherfucker?”

“Compose yourself, Balvi!” Ivar snapped back as he holstered his rifle and took a cautious step forward. “Are you Jack?” he asked the form that was caked in blood.

It took several moments of loud, growling breaths before the warrior had the presence of mind to speak.

“That’s me. Are you the cavalry?” Jack asked, panting, as he quickly stumbled back to check on Nya, who had been unconscious from just the moment after he found her. “We need a medic for this one!” he told Ivar, having correctly assumed him to be in charge.

“Mamur, help her!” Ivar ordered his field medic without hesitation, pointing to the grievously wounded Nya. “Rargil, Dagli go help him.“

Ivar then turned to Jack as the human grabbed a half-drunk bottle of something off the floor, quickly downing the contents. “You need to come with us, we’re getting you out of here.”

“No, there’s still places I haven’t checked yet…”

“Stop. Your friends told Sigrin you’d probably say that.” Ivar sighed. “We have other teams combing the complex for survivors, including the groups you were able to help. We also have Sigrin on cameras and my grandfather leading a counterattack into the Gloom Paths, so you don’t need to do anything else. Our orders are to get you out of here, ensure you get medical attention and get your full account of what happened. Are you going to cooperate?”

The rush of adrenaline in Jack’s mind subsided as he realised he and everyone else were safe now. He fell to his knees in sheer exhaustion, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as he barely had the presence of mind to put a hand out to stop himself from smacking into the floor as Ivar shouted in alarm.

“Ailgur, get over here, he needs help…” the Hoduth ordered.

“Are you ok, lad?” Ivar asked as Jack softly laughed, which gave way to a chuckle. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, we’re going to stop you leaking before we move, otherwise you’ll bleed out.”

“Why are you laughing?” one of the other soldiers asked the human.

Jack held up a metal stick to show to the squad.

“My fucking axe broke…”

*****

Many hundreds of miles away, in a long-abandoned city, a light suddenly shone in one of the alleyways.

A lone rodent, scurrying along the deserted streets reclaimed by nature, saw it and got curious, slowly padding its way towards the unusual sight with stick-like appendages. Two creatures it had never seen before suddenly appeared out of thin air, panting from the brief excursion of teleporting as they stepped into the cold night air. Before the rodent could scurry away, a long, sharp tentacle quickly lashed out, lancing the rodent through the chest.

Barely letting out one last final squeak of pain, the rodent died instantly as its body was rapidly decomposed and absorbed by the tentacle. Dr Reyazz Grine barely let out any hint of exertion as he re-knitted a small part of himself back together.

“We have time,” his companion calmly hissed to him, his black robes perfectly still despite the strong breeze.

“Less than you may think,” Grine replied back with equal calmness, though his mysterious companion was not a fool.

“Complications?” The wizard asked, tilting their hooded head in expectation.

“Our end of the bargain was fulfilled,” Grine confirmed. “Though as you know, the Killer Klown is…mercurial at times. He may blame myself and the others for any perceived failure on his part.”

“I doubt he’ll see it as a failure,” his wizard companion reasoned. “His primary drive is terror, and he will have certainly accomplished that tonight. His lack of new recruits may work in our favour.”

“You may be right,” Grine conceded as he absorbed several more rodents while they walked. “Though the rest of the Court may not agree with your assessment.”

They continued travelling in silence for several minutes. Nothing disturbed them, and with the exception of Grine absorbing fresh vermin, both figures were content to remain quiet and alert.

“Here we are,” the wizard confirmed as they eventually made it to the tall ruin of a building they had agreed to rendezvous at.

Climbing the stairs without complaint, both men silently slinked down a long corridor, following some shadowmarks that had been left specifically for them. Coming to an unassuming but decrepit-looking wooden door that looked like it had fused to the frame over time, the wizard cast the passphrase, dispelling the traps and illusions on the door, before opening the reinforced metal door.

“Took your time!” The huge muscular reptilian man grinned with jagged, sharp teeth as he threw his wizard friend a cold bottle of expensive ale.

“We’re ahead of schedule and you know it, asshole!” the wizard grinned slyly, reaching his arm out into a handshake symbolising their camaraderie before sitting down in a plush, comfortable chair.

The safehouse had been stocked with all the comforts and necessities they could possibly want while resting between assignments, or waiting to be called upon. Dr Grine wasted no time in quickly moving to a minifridge in one of the cupboards, pulling out a vial of an expensive concoction of his own creation which he quickly downed. His wounds quickly began to regenerate and heal, and his biomass rapidly replenished to the levels they were at before he had infiltrated Outpost Khundohr.

The wizard made no comment about that, recognising the dimensional pocket enchantment for what it was. He casually got another cold ale out of the fridge and laid back with some snacks, using his long tongue to spear through each crunchy freeze-dried vegetable and egg-based morsel out of a large bag.

“Excellent.” Grine calmly sighed as he rested in another chair opposite the wizard. “Another successful operation, and I don’t think we’ll be called upon again soon. I will be laying low for the immediate future once this meeting has concluded; perhaps you will accompany me, Vhashiel?”

“You’re not going to have another crack at Devil’s Daughter?” the reptilian asked Grine, genuinely surprised as he leaned forward on his chair, placing his chin on his hammer.

“The Good Doctor was spotted and confronted,” the wizard interjected before Grine could answer. “The one responsible for that hiccup is still alive, so we need to be careful since they will surely talk. Perhaps you know them? Same rough age as my ‘wayward children.’ An Outsider.”

At hearing these words, Master Kull growled heavily, dragging his warhammer along the ground as he got up and paced up and down the room.

“Jack Frost,” he growled. “We know this Outsider. We know him well!” he snarled under his breath. “I shall kill him, and we will make him suffer!”

“No!” Grine replied, almost seeming to slightly flinch when Kull turned his gaze to him. “The Court will not take kindly to your pursuit of vengeance unless it runs parallel with our goals. Your position at the school is at risk enough already!”

“It may be that the Outsider will end up marked for death just like Devil’s Daughter has,” the wizard pointed out as the Nirah removed his hood to reveal a hateful-looking serpentine face. “Though his nature as an Outsider puts too many eyes on him. They have enough enemies, let them do the work for you.”

Kull seemed to calm at that suggestion, nodding in agreement with a low growl.

“How did your mission go?” Grine asked Kull pointedly.

Kull grinned. “Better than expected. The local Red Legion districts got hit hard, the Killer Klown has many new recruits and my standing with the Legion could not be better! Nothing like a champion killing one of the Named to save face. Already pinned the blame for the feeble defence on the dead, and my path to Grandmaster of the Red Legion forces on the Ring is well and truly clear.”

“And here I thought subtly wasn’t your thing!” The wizard grinned wickedly, earning a friendly shove from Master Kull.

A single beep rang out, and the three individuals immediately stopped what they were doing.

The Court was in session.

Many individuals all across the Ring gave their updates. Across several hours they listened to accounts from others that had operated over the past few weeks, broken by a single brief moment where they gave their own reports. Eventually, secret votes were put in place, and orders were anonymously given.

As Dr Grine had predicted, the trio had no new orders, so theywere either to maintain cover where it applied, or to lay low. If they wished to induct anyone to the Court, it would have to be proposed later.

“I’ll need to head back soon,” Kull pointed out. Though he did not have a court-provided sequencer crystal to take him back the way he had arrived, his wizard friend had given him an alternative.

“I know, I almost envy you.” The wizard locked arms with his old friend, clasping the forearm of the other in a firm grip.

“The time for the Red Legion to acknowledge you properly will come, my friend,” Kull reassured the Nirah.

“Indeed. I especially can’t wait for the family reunion!” The Nirah chuckled as he let go and let Kull return home. The dimensional rift disappeared as quickly as it came, and soon he was alone with Dr Grine.

“So what really happened back there?” the wizard asked Grine, expression immediately falling serious, not bothering to hide his curiosity any longer. “I’ve never, ever, seen you lose control like that before.”

“Something unexpected,” Grine answered. “I encountered the Outsider, as you saw. They chased after me, and were far stronger than I anticipated.”

“Really?” the Nirah lazily asked. “Kull told me of his exploits first hand. Defeating 7 of the best Red Legion aspirants in his class, including my own wayward ‘son’, and an incident where Kull had to instil some discipline in his students.”

“I can imagine,” Grine acknowledged, waiting to hear where the wizard was going with this.

“Why give him information about the Spawn of Nekdon we know he faced?” he asked, looking at Grine with steely eyes. “You omitted that from your report, and we both know the Court does not look too kindly on letting information like that slip.”

Grine paused for a moment, nervous.

“Will you tell the Court?”

“No.” The Nirah smiled. “You’ve sent him on a path that will either kill him or turn him into an asset. A move out of my own playbook.”

“Your wards?” Grine asked.

“Yes. Svaarvali’s scions know barely any scrap of their heritage. Provided my own allegiance to the Court remains obscured at all times, they will serve it well if approached properly. Another insult to the family when the time comes.” The Nirah’s grin went wide as he relished the idea.

“Vhashiel?” Grine began to ask, but the Nirah cut him off.

“That is not my name. It is merely an alias that is no longer needed,” the serpent snapped, with a look that would allow no debate. “An identity that now needs to be shed for the good of the Court. It is time for me to reclaim my true name.”

“Then who are you? Really?” Dr Grine asked, curious now. He respected the wizard as a powerful and reliable ally, and he had wondered who the well-versed mage really was. As a precaution, he had learned all he could of the members of the Court known to him, but had found very little about the wizard, and that concerned him greatly. Wizards of comparatively high power were usually well known in public circles, and finding nothing about this Nirah was concerning. Not even his link to Master Kull gave him much.

The Nirah smiled wickedly, as if an invisible burden had been removed from his shoulders. “I am Svaarzhul, and none shall eclipse me.”