“Feck off,” Reg snarled, floating into the air and moving away from John.  The rest of the team, with one exception, had all chosen to trade in their Essence.  Varying levels of persuasion had been required but Sam had finally caved after Raoul opted to no longer be trapped semi-transformed.


    “Still don’t see why I can’t get one of them interface things,” muttered Bob-Prime.


    “Your time will come mate but right now you’re split between all the server-Bobs on Earth and the ones here with us.  We need to be home before you undergo the change,” John replied.


    “Well I’m happy to let the robot have my go,” muttered Reg.


    “What’s the problem Reg?  You’ve seen it doesn’t hurt and there’s no drawbacks.  You’ll get the equivalent of all your unspent Essence and won’t have to kill to grow stronger anymore,” offered Flash as he conjured glowing weapons and barriers.  “I can’t open my status screen anymore but I don’t think I’m even using reserves!”


    “You aren’t.  You’ll get tired from using your power eventually but the arbitrary limit of reserves has been replaced with something more like mental endurance,” said Felicity.  All eyes turned in her direction and Reg used the distraction to move a little higher.  “I’ve been talking to my companion,” she added with a shrug.  John wasn’t going to hold his breath for an apology about all the “heretic” stuff but hopefully he also wouldn’t have to worry about the “Saint” shit anymore.  Now the twins could talk to beings from Outside reality he was optimistic their penchant for religion would be focused elsewhere.


    “So why can’t I wait till we get home as well?” snapped Reg.


    “Because the System is going to react to this and we all, bar Bob, need to be able to fight,” said John.


    “How come?” asked Evie.


    “We aren’t heretics or proscribed.  As far as the system is concerned we’re something worse.  We’re a cancer that needs to be cut out at all costs.  They’ll be sending other ships to assault and invade the Kipragtsek as we head home and we either fight and win or fight and die.”


    “You’re different to us.  Stronger?” said Vic.  Her new purple flames burned just as hot as her old power but they couldn’t touch John.


    “I’m different but I’m only half cooked at this point.  I need more time to stabilise the bridge.  When they come for us it will be you guys fighting while I focus on completing my end of things,” John said.


    “Fancy a spar?” asked Raoul.  “Or some arm wrestling?”  John grinned in reply, making his facial scars twist and writhe.


    “It wouldn’t be a fair fight,” he replied, carefully not pointing out for whom it would be unfair.  Raoul took a weird sense of pride in being the strongest.


    “Look Reg, quit being a bitch and get your arse down here!” Evie barked, tiring of watching the old man floating overhead.


    “Make me short-arse!” he replied.  Bars of power formed a grid around him.  Anything touching them would become hundreds of times heavier than it should be.  John waved a hand as his eyes flared and the bars vanished.


    “Reg.  You’re too weak.  You’ve never been a weak link in the team before.  Sure, your power was kind of niche.  You were basically a support fighter for when we took on tribs.  You can be so much more now and we will need you if this thread is to flourish,"  John pleaded.


    Reg bridled at the accusation but there was some truth to it.  It had been why he’d withdrawn from the team for years at a time to play laird over Seahaven.  Even that had been little more than a paper thin mask.  He’d left the people to run themselves and once they grew strong enough not to need him protecting the boats from the larger denizens of the seas he’d basically retired.  He couldn’t deny that always feeling unneeded had made it easier to distance himself from the people who were the closest thing he had to friends.  He floated to the ground and grunted as he landed.


    “Feck off with your threads, Sassenach.  Fine.  Do it,” he muttered angrily.  He thrust his arms out to the side as though he was about to be crucified and braced himself with his eyes closed.  With a flex of willpower John reached out and returned his Essence, holding it on the bridge for an eternal moment as a new Concept formed from it.  The emergent being was split across the material and immaterial, just like the team were now, and the physical manifestation of it began to blossom on the palm of John’s hand.


    He walked forward and offered his hand to Reg who opened one eye, blinked several times then reached out cautiously and shook hands.  As their palms met the interface slipped into Reg’s body and quickly transformed his ability and physical nature.


    “Fecking strange,” Reg muttered as he tried to understand the change.  He bent his mind and floated into the air again for a moment before settling back down on the ground.  “I still say this a stupid idea.”  John knew that was as much as he could expect from the irascible old man so he smiled and turned back to the rest of the team.  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    “We’ve got an interceptor incoming.  They won’t be in much of a condition to fight when they get here but that will change as we move back onto the trunk routes,” said John’s old face from a projection on the wall.


    “God you’re creepy.  It’s like a flashback to being a kid again.  What the hell is an interceptor?” asked Evie.


    “A vessel used to attack Void forces in space.  All voidliners carry them.  Think of them as heavily armed assault boats.  There will be multiple teams of fighters aboard and they carry weapons capable of damaging a liner in transit,” Colin replied helpfully.  “Don’t worry about the weaponry, I can stop that from a single interceptor no worries but I won’t be able to kill the fish until it spits its nasty little eggs into me.”


    “He means the boarding teams will deploy before he can stop them,” added John.


    “Why won’t they be in fighting shape?” asked Raoul.


    “They’ll be zipping across the edge of the Outside without the shielding effect of a Concept.  No enslaved Concept to make sure they walk the line: no guarantee they won’t go mad in transit,” Colin replied, flashing a grin.


    “Evie’s right.  That is creepy.  It’s like seeing him the first day we met,” muttered Sam.  “What should we expect?”


    “Whatever the highest level minions they had on board, they’ll be pissed off as well,” said Colin.  The shoulders of the image shrugged.  “This is just the first of dozens of them.  We’ve got the Gatrysk, Howquink, Shattrul and the Pawtarak all reversing course and moving back to the trunk line.  They’ve all launched interceptors but it’s not being done very efficiently.  This one is from Howquink and it should have launched dozens of them at once but they’ve been fired off in dribs and drabs.”


    “Rebellions?  If they’re older species in the Alliance they might have some inkling of what they’re up against,” said John thoughtfully.


    “Maybe.  The price on your head is insane.  You know you’re worth hundreds of trillions of Essence?” asked Colin.


    “Huh, no wonder you wanted us all on team rebel,” laughed Flash.  Everyone pivoted to look at Bob-Prime who shrugged three sets of mechanical shoulders.


    “I got the notification.  It’s not like I’m going to kill an old friend for fuckign Essence.  Show some respect!” the machine grumbled.


    “Why didn’t we get the notification?” asked Vic.


    “You’re cut off from the system.  No more status, no more teamchat.  I’m not going to lie, the wording of the bounty was pretty… strong.  The system really wants you guys dead.”


    “Fecks sake,” muttered Reg.  “Well I’ve nailed my trousers to the mast,” he finished with a sigh.


    “Nailed your colours to the mast, I think you mean?” asked Sam.


    “Nope.  Trousers.  It’s harder to climb down if you nail your fecking trews to the mast.  Bloody hell John,” Reg complained.


    “It’s necessary to give humanity a fighting chance at liberty in the centuries to come,” John said softly.  “How long till our guests arrive?”


    “About thirty minutes.  The translation tech won’t put them down anywhere specific.  They’ll aim for the engines or bridge but it will be pot luck if they even arrive inside the hull.  Some of them probably will.  Most of them in a worst case scenario,”  Colin added from the wall.


    “So we need to fortify and protect the vitals of the ship,” said Bob-Prime.  Drones began swarming down Doris’ back and spilling out of the portal to the stash.  Some of them were lugging what passed for heavy weapons that needed to be emplaced and bolted down to fire. “I’ll cover the approaches to engineering and the bridge.  Will the shield things on those sections stop them from arriving inside?”


    “It makes it far less likely but the arrival of your guests will be chaotic at best.  I would feel much more comfortable having a sentient in both locations able to deal with an interloper without trashing my vital systems,” said Colin.


    “Ok.  Gemini, reckon you can handle it?  You’re versatile and precise.  I’d rather have Sam, Raoul and Flash mobile.  Evie and Vic would zap or torch the place if they have to fight full on so they’re out,” said the drone thoughtfully.


    “Oy! I can be precise, you bloody rust bucket!” snapped Evie.  She received several looks that mixed scepticism and pity in equal measure.  “Well I can” she muttered but decided to let it slide.


    “We can do this,” said both twins simultaneously.


    “Good.  So the rest of us are mobile.  I think we keep pairs outside the entrances to the key sections, Sam and Raoul for engineering and Vic and Evie by the bridge.  Reg and Flash can hold this hangar.  Then once we know where the pricks teleport in we can react accordingly,” Bob finished.


    “What about me?” asked Zeeg.  Seeing her reduced to her original size was the most jarring change any of them had undergone.  She wagged a tail that yesterday was a meter and half long.


    “You’re with me girl,” said John.  “I’ll need you to watch my back.”  The dog nodded and gave a canine grin.


    “Well?  What are you waiting for?  Hop to it soldiers!” barked Bob-Prime.  The team set off to their assigned locations exchanging some grumbles and a few jokes as they began to spread out through the vital areas of the Kipragtsek.


    ***


    Krakat wasn’t a stupid being but now he was aboard the interceptor he had begun to entertain doubts about his judgment.  He hadn’t managed to claw his way to level sixty five by taking unnecessary risks.  He had grown up with the system and spent nearly three hundred years fighting monsters and the Void.


    He reached up with the arm that sprouted from his chest and rubbed at his eyes.  His other six limbs hung limply around his barrel shaped torso.  These fucking lights and noises.  All seven of his eyes were blurred and weeping as the nightmarish and incomprehensible images and ideas slipped directly into his mind.


    As the leader of his team he had convinced them to go on this mad venture.  He was beginning to think he should have listened to Jripal.  The most salient question the younger female had raised was why the hell the System couldn’t just teleport them into position like it normally did.  The side effects of slipping along the boundary between reality and whatever was infecting his mind brought home the lesson that sometimes he really should pay more attention to his primary wife''s concerns.


    “Husband,” Jripal grunted.  The acceleration had them all crouched down in the hold of this tiny ship.  Each of their seven legs bent and splayed around their core as they fought against the G forces trying to squash them into a tangle by the rear hatch.  “Perhaps you will admit I was correct?”.


    “The rewards will be worth it.  We will gain many levels,” he said in a strained voice.  He was never going to hear the end of this.  That was the best case scenario.  It assumed they’d survive long enough for him to be repeatedly verbally castrated for his lapse of judgment.