The Plasma Master by Brian Rushton
The
Plasma Master
by Brian Rushton
© 1997, published 2011
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter Ф
Chapter ∩
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 1Ф
Chapter 1∩
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 2Ф
Chapter 2∩
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Afterword
Prologue
A flash of lightning blasted away the darkness and momentarily illuminated the massive fortress that rose like a mountain out of the surrounding forest. Light shone from thousands of windows like a host of eyes glaring out at the universe. A man stood inside one of the fortress’s many rooms, staring blankly out of one of these windows.
He shifted uneasily, the metal plating of his armor crunching softly as it shadowed his movement. The blaster he had relied on so often now hung useless at his belt. No weapon in the universe had the power to resolve this conflict for him. He was alone. The man looked down at the glowing object in his hand. So much power, he thought. How could I have come to be so desperate?
He turned from the window and sat down at his desk, his forehead resting on his hand. The Council had discussed the matter at length, and their decision had been the inevitable one. All of the powers would be given to Trelan. In theory, one person would be able to make full use of the powers and thereby serve the Empire better than several separate holders. Trelan was First Holder and had held his crystal longer than any of the other Masters had, so he was the obvious choice.
The intercom beeped. “Koral, it is time,” said Trelan’s calm voice.
“Yes,” Koral acknowledged softly. He could not mask the sound of resignation in his voice, but it did not matter. Trelan knew his feelings on the subject. Sighing inwardly, Koral arose and walked to the door. It opened, and he glanced in both directions down the hall. It was empty. He strode quickly along the passageway until he reached the door to a lift pod. He entered and pressed a button on a wall panel and instructed the computer, “Shuttle bay eight.” The lift began to move through the labyrinth of passageways that linked the many sections of the Imperial Fortress. Koral’s heart was pounding. There was no telling what would happen to him when the Council found out what he had done, but he could see no alternative.
The lift door slid open, and Koral stepped out. He was in a large room filled with technical equipment and control consoles. A few workers glanced up at him as he strode to a large door at the far end of the room, but none said anything. They probably knew nothing about the meeting, and they had seen Koral use the shuttle bay hundreds of times. The doors opened, and Koral walked through an airlock and into the shuttle bay. A dozen ships stood lined up in the vacuous chamber. Koral started toward his transport ship. Again, the few workers on duty glanced at him without concern. The transport ship was a small vessel which he mainly used to get to and from orbiting starships, although it did have limited warp capabilities. When he reached the ship, Koral pressed a series of buttons on a panel attached to the sleeve of his armor. A hatch slid open on the ship’s underside, and a ramp extended. He stepped unhurriedly up the ramp and through the door to the control room. Now that there was no one watching him, he began moving more quickly. He was not sure how much time it would take before all of the other Masters were assembled and realized that he was missing, but he wanted to be off of the planet and well on his way before that happened.
Koral initiated the launch sequence, and the huge shuttle bay door began to open. Responding to his controls, the transport ship lifted off the floor and flew into the turbulent night. The forest spreading away across the planet’s surface, the distant mountains jutting above the horizon, and the mass of swirling storm clouds overhead made an impressive sight, but Koral had no time to notice such things. In seconds he was rising out of the planet’s atmosphere and into the blackness of space.
From within the shuttle bay, an unseen pair of eyes watched him go.
Koral had nothing against Trelan. He was a wise leader and had proven his loyalty to the Empire countless times in countless ways. Even now it almost seemed as if Koral’s decision had been foolish and dishonorable; he was stepping well out of his authority and attempting to prevent an action that the Council believed would bring about a momentous change in the Empire; with the Masters’ powers combined and enhanced, it was doubtful that the Empire’s enemies would be able to stand against it much longer. Yet Koral could not bring himself to comply with the Council’s wishes. He had voiced his disagreement only once; the intensity of the rejection his ideas had received convinced him that if he were to prevent the Council from carrying out its designs, he would have to do so alone.
When he had voiced his opinion, some had condemned Koral for his lack of cooperation, suggesting that he was simply jealous of Trelan, that he was just attempting to maintain the power he had for his own personal gain. Perhaps they were right, in part at least. Koral was being asked to give up something that had become as much a part of him as his ability to think, and he had to admit that he was hesitant to let it go. But Koral’s motives went far beyond that. There was just too much danger in placing that much power in the hands of one person, especially when so little was understood of how that power worked. All Koral knew about his own power was what he had learned through its repeated use, and he doubted that any of the others knew any more than he did. Even the source of the power was a mystery. There was no telling what would happen if one man suddenly found himself in control of something like that.
An urgent feeling in the back of Koral’s mind snatched his attention. He glanced back toward the planet, and his eyes widened in alarm. Instantly he rose to his feet and extended his hand. The entire interior of his ship lit up with chaotic surges of glowing energy. They were trying to stop him.
The energy surges died down as he brought his full power to bear, blocking their attempt to board his ship. Scanning his control panel, Koral saw that several starships were approaching at high warp. His own ship was not nearly fast enough to outrun them; they would be there in minutes.
Koral ran his fingers over the controls. He would have preprogrammed this command sequence, but he had been afraid that someone might for some reason check his ship’s computer and learn of his plan. As it was he had been over the process hundreds of times in his mind, so it took hardly any time at all. When he was finished, he took out the glowing object and looked it over. Had he not spent the last several months pondering his decision and scrutinizing over his plan, he certainly would have stopped right there. But now there was no hesitation in his mind; the sacrifices necessary were irrelevant. There was no other way.
The intercom beeped, and a voice began speaking. “This is Admiral Nelim. I have orders from the Imperial Council to place you under arrest. If you resist I am authorized to fire.”
Koral rested his finger on one of the glowing buttons on the control panel. A sheen o
Again the feeling in his mind diverted his attention, but this time he resisted it only for a moment. He cast the object away from him as if it were on fire. Immediately he felt weak and incomplete, as if every muscle in his body had suddenly gone dead. Then the force reaching out for him took hold.
Admiral Nelim stared at the transport ship on his viewscreen. He had no idea what was going on, but the two figures standing on either side of him, just out of the camera’s range, had looks on their faces that would freeze a supernova. “Now,” one of them said, his voice a mixture of anger, fear, and anticipation. The two figures went suddenly tense, fists clenched, and their eyes narrowed to tiny slits. At the same instant a purple glow flashed out of the ship on the viewscreen and a yellow beam of energy arced toward it from the Admiral’s ship. The yellow light struck, and the transport ship exploded in a billowing red ball of expanding gasses. The explosion and the purple glow seemed to mix violently, and space lit up in a white flash that lasted several seconds. When the light faded there was nothing left of the transport ship. The man on Nelim’s right dropped to one knee, visibly struggling to catch his breath, his eyes tightly shut as if in deep concentration. The woman to his left eyed the man anxiously but remained silent. Finally the man’s breathing slowed, and his eyes opened, but his gaze remained fixed in a blank stare as his lips trembled, reluctantly attempting to form words. Sensing what he was struggling to say, the woman took a step toward him, drawing his gaze.
“Did you…” she began, her voice a mix of concern and accusation.
The man turned away from her in shame. “No,” he whispered. “It’s gone.”