Elder Cultivator

There were a couple weeks of stalemate as fleets maneuvered around Ceretos, between the Exalted Archipelago and the continents. Neither side found many good opportunities. There were a few more swift assaults on the shores of the continents, breaking bits and pieces of the formations apart and then retreating, leaving everywhere more vulnerable. On the other side, some minor groups in the Archipelago were forced out. The outlying sects weren’t stupid enough to just wait for an army to assault them and hope that reinforcements would come, and there was simply too much to defend. They were mostly stripped of valuables, and there were plans to return to the Eternal Glamour Sect for a proper victory, but there simply hadn’t been a good opportunity yet.

“Fight me.”

Rutera’s forces had arrived, and Anton had thought there was no reason to rush to meet them. At least this time it wasn’t Chikere who had made the statement- but she was still involved.

“Okay,” Chikere responded about the time Anton glared at her. She turned between him and Ty Quigley. “I mean, um… I can’t get in any serious spars until after the war.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Ty bowed his head. “Instinct. Also, I should probably break through to Assimilation first…”

“That would be optimal,” Chikere agreed. “You appear to be close.”

“Any time,” he agreed. “A war like this… well, I can’t say I’m glad it happened, but it’s a great opportunity.” His eyes couldn’t help but drift around Chikere, stopping in one particular place. “Are you, uh, left-handed?”

“I am right now,” Chikere said without concern before he could apologize for his question. “But if I had both arms I would be right-handed.”

“It’s difficult to recover, I presume?” Ty said awkwardly. “I mean, uh, obviously. I’m sure you can get anything you want, with your power. What I meant to say is… you can just replace it?” Even he sounded unsure of his words. “We make arms. Prosthetics. Combat prosthetics.”

“A replacement arm does me no good,” Chikere said. “It would be just as simple to form an arm out of my own energy for similar results.”

“Oh, but these aren’t just hunks of metal,” he said. “I don’t really know how they work, but they respond to your body naturally and energy flows through them just like living flesh. So I’ve been told. I’ve been lucky enough to keep everything.”

Chikere turned to Anton, then looked up into the sky. “Excuse me. I will be taking a short trip.”

Anton grabbed her shoulder before she actually tried to move. “You can’t just show up in Rutera and ask for things,” he sighed, “You’d at least have to know who to talk to.”

“Good point.” Chikere nodded, “Who should I talk to?” she asked Ty Quigley. “And can they infuse a blade into the structure?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure… on either, really,” Ty Quigley admitted. “But I’m sure General Nicodemo could get you in contact with the right departments. And you’re, uh, allied military so it should be possible. I don’t know if it will be done fast enough to matter, though.”

“I see,” Chikere nodded, “I hadn’t considered the craftsmanship time. Direct me to General Nicodemo.”

“I thought I heard my name,” General Nicodemo was already approaching- though probably with the intent to see Anton. Not that he would be uninterested in meeting any cultivator of Chikere’s strength. He looked at Ty, who still had a hand on his sword hilt. “This man isn’t causing you any trouble, is he miss?”

“No,” Chikere said easily. “He did mention that I might be able to get a combat capable prosthetic arm. If possible I would like to take that opportunity, because I just gave up my previous opportunity to have my arm restored.”

Anton added some more detail, “Chikere is a great combat asset. I’d be glad to contribute funds or materials if necessary, though I don’t know if you can finish it for the current troubles. At least… I hope the war doesn’t drag out so long.”

“We won’t let it,” General Nicodemo agreed. “I’ll see what I can do, but unfortunately you’d likely need to be present in person to get the process started. With travel time there and back…”

“I can accelerate that,” Chikere said. “But I can also wait. It is not necessary to rush.”

“Won’t you be weaker without your arm…?” Ty Quigley said cautiously.

“Then I simply have to become stronger to make up for it.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “I suppose that makes sense, yeah.”

Anton pulled aside Nicodemo. “Make sure she gets an opportunity. If you need more favors or political clout to do so before she has to return to the upper realms, I’ll provide my full support.”

“Really? Well, I knew the two of you were sometimes companions, but this seems like even further than you’d normally go.”

“I learned… she helped one of my granddaughters with an old problem, giving up her own opportunity to regrow her arm. And Chikere didn’t even mention it. So beyond all the practical reasons, I’d like to do this for her.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Nicodemo nodded. “And with your support we can probably get something more than just ‘functional’. Maybe even better than what she had, assuming she’s not a body temperer like Nthanda.”

“Not to any significant degree, no,” Anton shook his head.

-----

The arrival of Rutera’s forces were significant. Though they only had a small number of ships that could match The Independence- and thus just one each they could spare for their allied systems- the quality of their fighters and mid sized ships were still exceptional. They’d been fully functional even without their pilots having access to proper cultivation- neither techniques nor a world with sufficient natural energy. Now that they had both necessary components, Rutera was a significant force to reckon with.

Though the portion of their power they were able to send was only able to slightly shift the overall power dynamic, they provided important opportunities. They could cover large amounts of ground or sea scouting, and arrive pretty much anywhere for a precision attack when they pleased. As long as the Exalted Archipelago didn’t gather their forces wherever they were planning to assault, they could hit and run, causing significant damage. And if the enemy did gather their forces, that meant they left other places open for the continental fleets and kept them from harassing the shores. Keeping them fueled wasn’t terribly difficult either, as they recharged quickly in places with high density of natural energy- and Ceretos was practically overflowing with the stuff.

-----

The Isle of Falling Clouds. Ty had thought it was a pretty bad martial style to count on there being clouds around, but it seemed these people could make their own clouds. They had the sea to work with too- though that just limited where he could safely fly. No skimming the water. Unless he had a reason, at least.

Fighter pilot formations were already optimized as well as possible to not have wingmates get taken out by an attack aimed at another, so it didn’t matter as much where they might come from. More than that, Anton had determined that with sufficient speed the Falling Clouds would likely have trouble forming their attacks. Ruteran ships were great for that. Given their adaptive shielding as well and this sect would regret throwing their lot in with the rest.

They weren’t one of the outermost sects, so they likely thought themselves safe. That was old thinking, though. They were going to realize that they had to worry not just about fliers, but space ships that could use all of three dimensions. They could come in from directly above and leave the same way. While some of the enemy cultivators could match that, as well as a few ships, one sect alone wouldn’t be sufficient. And a simultaneous attack would be happening elsewhere- already was happening, actually. That would be some place they’d softened up first.

“Command,” Ty spoke into his radio. “Did we receive info on friendly fire results for the Falling Clouds?”

“Negative. That will have to be determined mid-combat.”

“I’ll make it happen,” Ty grinned. “How about their barrier durability?”

“Nothing conclusive. Assume class 5.”

At least as difficult to break through as it would be killing an Integration or Assimilation cultivator, then. Ty would be fairly confident in causing serious damage after he broke through, but before then there was only so much his fighter could elevate his ability. On the other hand, it shouldn’t be adaptive… so he didn’t have to do it all in a single pass. And he wasn’t alone. Though in the strictest sense he would be, as he didn’t have a squad that would be following his movement.

Everything else Ty needed to know had been discussed during the briefing, so he waited patiently for their orbit to carry them into position, then they dropped. The fleet descended at a sharp angle, cutting into the atmosphere. The Sylanis Cluster’s shielding technology almost completely mitigated problems from re-entry, especially when combined with Rutera’s advancements. Ty didn’t know how it worked deep below, he just knew it worked. As long as he avoided big hits, he shouldn’t be whittled down unless the enemy had a very wide array of attacks.

Ty Quigley was the first to arrive, though only by a fraction of a second. That wasn’t out of any sense of self sacrifice or intention to make himself a target. He simply needed to go faster to be the most effective he could. His guns flashed, propelling ordinance that would have already been supersonic with even more velocity. It was like a hundred tiny swords slicing at the enemy’s barriers. He didn’t break through- but there was more following after him.

He pulled up just slightly while tilting onto his side, dangling a wing towards the dome of the formation barrier. That both served to reduce his profile- extremely useful given the sudden barrage of ice from above- and allow him to focus his energy on one point. His whole ship could be a blade if necessary, but using just one wing was more conservative. He didn’t want to fully commit to crashing through a barrier and find out his force was insufficient.

Ty’s wing cut a line in the barrier like a knife through plastic wrapping. He could feel it restoring behind him, but with all the other damage happening together it was destabilizing. Either way, it would be eating through power like mad.

Ty took note that the falling spears of ice dissolved before striking the barrier- which must have taken conscious effort. That meant the barrier would be damaged by them as well. Good. He continued on, only to spot the sea having risen up in front of him. Sure, he was the only one who had gotten right up against the barrier but he was surprised anyone was ready and capable to pull that off less than a minute into the attack.

Preparing himself to cut through what would no doubt turn into a solid barrier of ice, Ty’s knuckled turned white on his controls. Then he just pulled up and to the right, realizing that he was just that much faster than they could move any significant amount of power.

But he wanted to cut the sea apart. Maybe on the next pass?

For a moment it seemed like the barrier would hold after the squads of ships bombarding it passed by. It tried so hard, Ty almost felt bad for it. But when The Independence’s attacks arrived from orbit, it simply couldn’t hold on. The barrier shattered, the rest of the bombardment landing directly on the building and the people trying to defend, frantically rushing out of their buildings.

It was their own fault for not having proper long range detection. Nobody had even reacted until they were halfway done with the descent, and clearly they had been unprepared. That wouldn’t work quite as well a second time, but that was why they’d carefully chosen this target.

Ty wheeled around, using his eyes, energy senses, and knowledge of flight formations to avoid running into fellow pilots- though he was lower than everyone else anyway. It seemed that everyone was working together to pull the ocean itself to cover their sect- that was likely supposed to be the first layer of defense, softening blows outside of their formations, but they were simply too late.

Good. He’d get to cut through it this time. He didn’t care if it was liquid or ice or something in between. He’d pierce through that, take a few shots at the Assimilation cultivator- and maybe more- then come out the other side. He imagined his move, the level of synergy required between him and his ship. Difficult, but nothing he couldn’t pull off. Sadly, that meant he probably wouldn’t be breaking through right away. He needed something more.