Эндрю Маккей: Star Cat: War Mage

“Guys, make sure you keep your center of gravity,” Tripp hopped over three wall pipes like a racehorse.

“What the hell is happening around here?” Bonnie asked.

“I don’t know. Hopefully Manuel can give us some answers,” Tripp reached the panel on the wall and slammed his palm onto it.

The door slid across and allowed them inside.

They were used to seeing the communication console on the left-hand wall. Due to the imbalance of gravity it was technically on the ground.

Tripp walked over it, careful not to damage the panel, “Tor, get Manuel online.”

“Yes, okay,” Tor snapped his fingers and tested the environment, “Manuel?”

“Be careful with your weight, Jaycee. Don’t tread on anything important,” Bonnie tiptoed over the screen and ran to the windshield at the far end of the room.

“It’s not easy, you know,” Jaycee clomped his way past Tor and looked up at the flight deck – which was now on the wall, “What in the hell ?”

“A-W-A-K-E,” Tor lifted the keyboard and sat next to the panel, “Four, five, seven.”

The console whirred to life and attempted to boot up.

“Success,” Tor clapped his hands and turned to Tripp at the windshield, “We’ve got—”

Tor’s eyes grew with disbelief at the view from outside.

“Jesus Christ. ”

“I know. Look,” Tripp pointed at the view of Pink Symphony.

The horizon staggered up, down, left and right, due to the tree’s transportation of the vessel. They could see the edge of the universe due to the height they had.

Pink Symphony wasn’t a globe as previously thought. It was a disc – the quasi-planetary equivalent of a dinner plate. Where the horizon would naturally curve, instead, it simply ended .

Thousands of tiny white dots scrambled hundreds of feet below them. The Shanta.

The enlarged sun provided a brilliant light source for the view. Worse, it seemed to be growing by the second.

“Is this heaven?” Jaycee attempted to take in the spectacular view, “How are we moving?”

CREEAAAKK-WOOOOSH

The ‘floor’ tilted up and around, forcing the communication console to climb up the wall to its regular position.

Tripp, Bonnie, Tor, and Jaycee barrel-rolled down from the wall and hit the ground. They were finally upright once again.

“I think that black tree is carrying us,” Tripp turned to Tor for an answer, “Where’s Manuel?”

“Waiting for him to boot up,” Tor tried to ignore an unusual shifting noise coming from the ceiling, “What do you mean carrying us ?”

Tripp pointed at the edge of the universe through the windshield, “Look out there, we’ve—”

CREAK-THWUCK!

A giant Shanta carcass slammed to the ground. Its pink, gloopy remains splattered in all directions.

“Gaahhh,” Tripp kicked himself back, scared it would attack him.

“No, no. Wait,” Tripp held the others back and approached the gory miasma of flesh and limbs with trepidation, “It’s dead.”

Everyone turned to face the flight deck. A cylindrical metal disc rolled from under the desk and fell onto its side.

“The Decapidisc?” Tor said in fright, “It’s been used.”

Jaycee thumped his fists together, “Yeah, I think that one was for your friend.”

Tripp looked around for something, “Speaking of Baldron, where is he?”

THWUMP!

Baldron’s decapitated android corpse crashed against the ground behind the crew.

Everyone jumped back in fright.

“Damn,” Jaycee stepped back onto Baldron’s severed head, “That’s one dead Russkie.”

His boot accidentally kicked the severed head toward Tor. The jumbled fusion of synthetic skin and protruding neck wires sparked and fizzed as the football of a head rolled toward Tor’s knees.

Tripp stomped his feet to the floor, “Okay, everyone. Just keep calm. They’re dead. We know about them. We know what happened.”

The console produced a succession of beeps.

Manuel’s holograph appeared in the middle of the room, swinging his pages around like a flailing Octopus.

“Duh-duh-duh… ¿Dónde estoy?”

“Huh?” Tor pressed the return key on the keyboard, “Say that again?”

“Estoy confundido. ¿Qué me pasó?”

“Eh?” Bonnie asked, “Is that Spanish ?”

“He must have taken a serious knock, or something,” Tor punched in a command on the keyboard, “Wait. Let me try something.”

Manuel flapped his pages like an angry pigeon, “¿Compréndeme? ¿Holaaa?”

“Nah, this is no use,” Tor hit a button the keyboard, “Let me try something else.”

“¡Oh, por Dios! Es ridículo… ”

As Manuel spoke, his sentence shifted from Spanish to English.

“…You changed my language, you morons, ” Manuel slowed his speech down and realized the crew understood the latter half of his complaint perfectly well, “Umm, did you hear that last part?”

Everyone nodded, taking great exception to what he’d said.

“Yeah,” Tripp said. “We did.”

“I apologize.”

“You can make amends by telling us what’s going out there.”

Manuel’s shivering covers caused some consternation in the crew, “My scan suggests we are still on Pink Symphony.”

Jaycee grabbed Baldron’s ankles and dragged him over to the door, “Yeah. We figured that out on our own. What’s going on out there?”

Manuel shook himself and floated over to the windshield. He took in the impressive view of the edge of the universe.

“Oh my. Would you look at that?”

“What?” Bonnie rocked up behind him and watched the sun with him, “What’s wrong?”

“The entity that’s carrying us. It’s moving us for a reason.”

“It’s pulled us away from the Shanta creatures. Where is it taking us?”

Manuel bent his spine and ducked, “Its off the charts. That ball of fire in the sky is going to destroy everything. It’s headed straight for us.”

“So we’re all dead, then?” Tripp asked without a trace of emotion.

“Oh n-no,” Manuel freaked out and whizzed over to the comms panel, “Everyone grab hold of something. Now!”

BZZZOOOOWWW!

The power in the control deck snapped off.

“Guuuuh,” Manuel vanished into thin air.

“You heard him,” Tripp clutched the solid surface of the flight deck, “Grab hold of something and get ready.”

Tor dropped the keyboard and grabbed hold of the door, “Ughhh, I don’t wanna die.”

“Shut up,” Bonnie and Jaycee blurted at the man in unison.

The interior of the ship rumbled up a storm. Jaycee and Bonnie held onto each other and hit the deck.

“Gahhhh!”

Baldron’s body and the dead Shanta slid across the floor and slammed against the wall.

The ground lifted into the air and pushed the crew towards the ceiling.

Tripp closed his eyes and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Hold on, everyone!”

SCHWAAMM!

The rumbling noise grew louder and louder. Anything that wasn’t bolted to the floor sprang from the floor and crashed against the ceiling.

Everyone’s legs lifted away from the floor.

The windshield staggered around and threatened to break free from its housing.

Pink Symphony’s horizon sparked and elongated, appearing to zoom closer and closer against the roaring ball of white sun against the stars…

“What was that noise?” Wool lifted her thumb away from the wall. A thin blue line recorded Jelly’s height; three feet and three inches.

Jelly stepped away from the wall and looked at the window, “It’s coming,” she whined and flicked her ears with concern.