Prism and The Red Wolves

While Rhonan walked through the underground hallways of Getla Base with his facsimile, Prism was discreetly navigating the intricate structure of the speedsub's circuitry. In fact, he'd quickly become lost in it.

Moving through the biological systems of a nerve-grid in a form of pure electricity was simple and seamless to Prism, especially since the nerves he’d traveled through were thick and high-capacity. But zipping through the billions of switches on the nano-scale architecture of the speedsub’s electronics disoriented Prism. He did his best to keep his sense of self while the billions of electrons that made up his form were being split and sometimes transduced.

Prism had known that traveling through such a sophisticated maze of technology could lead to his death, yet he took solace in the fact that the Queen would never get his body if his electrical form was subsumed by the machine.

“Got to…get out of here!”

Prism formed one last coherent thought before he connected to a less complex set of circuits that offered him an escape. He released his electrons from a wall full of outlets that were a part of the speedsub’s original Destructor machinery. Arcs of plasma shot from the metal sockets and convalesced into Prism’s humanoid body. He fell to his knees once his transformation was complete, feeling an intense weakness in his body. His mind was quiet, and he realized that his telepathic connection with his team had been severed.

As he looked over himself to check his condition, Prism noticed large holes in the skintight sections of the living body armor that he was wearing. He sighed gratefully upon realizing that he’d unknowingly sacrificed portions of the suit to make sure that his own body rematerialized fully. The lethargy he felt was caused by two things: losing a variety of nutrients from the materialization process, and the suit repairing itself with energy from his malnourished cells.

He’d lost all the excess mana he’d absorbed from the base’s bio-system, which he’d used to assume his electrical form. Gathering mana on the speedsub was like breathing acidic air that burned his skin and his lungs. Prism had no choice but to do so, however. He paced himself, only absorbing small amounts until his body was healthy enough to function somewhat normally.

Prism weakly raised his head and looked around the room he was in. It was dark and cold with several pipes and bundles of wires running along its walls. The floor was hard and almost icy on the parts of his legs that were exposed to the elements. There was a burning smell that came from the sockets he’d flowed through. The room was no bigger than a walk-in closet and its messy layout made Prism belief that it hadn’t been entered in a long time. The lights overhead flickered a few times before shutting off again.

Prism rose to his feet and approached the closed watertight door only a meter from him. He became lightheaded, still weak and disoriented, but he reminded himself that time was of the essence. The ship rocked from the rough seas outside, which made Prism feel a bit queasy as well. It seemed like everything was working against him.

Despite trying to steel himself and push forward, he fell over and had to crawl to the door. He realized that the muscles of his legs were especially malnourished, causing them to spasm when he tried to use them. He pulled himself up along the door’s ribbed surface and looked out of its cloudy circular window. He soon saw that the narrow corridor outside was dark as well.

His ability to see in near total darkness allowed him to make out his surroundings regardless. He could hear hurried footsteps approaching, and he leaned over to avoid being seen. Two men with head-mounted flashlights ran by, ignoring the room Prism was in. Seconds after, the ship began to vibrate slightly before a voice crackled over a damaged intercom system.

“S-3F3 Orange, I repeat, S-3F3 Orange.”

The voice was that of an older man, low and calm, though Prism wasn’t sure if it was automated or not. It was in a code that Prism didn’t understand, but he reasoned that it was most likely reporting a fire. He’d encountered a lot of disabled circuitry as he’d tried to find the weapons systems, so Prism knew that the ship was extensively damaged.

As the holes in his suit sealed themselves, Prism’s enhanced senses returned to him. No longer overwhelmed by the storm, Prism detected the presence of each person within five meters. He sensed a few men on the deck above him, and a few frantically moving out of his range on the level he was on. He’d gained an understanding of the speedsub’s layout while within its computer systems, but he still needed time to figure out exactly where he was.

For a ship that was 100 meters long and had an internal height and width of 10 meters each, the speedsub was condensed enough for Prism to be almost completely aware of his surroundings. Prism felt safe in moving through the speedsub while avoiding its crew. He was sure that any internal sensors they had were being used to detect damage, not unidentified personnel.

Prism slowly turned the long metal handles of the heavy round metal door until he felt the door shift slightly. He then pushed it open quickly and stepped out into the metal corridor. It was barely wide enough to contain two men side-by-side, but it was incredibly clean despite the condition of the ship. Prism began walking down the corridor, getting his bearings as he moved. It soon became clear to him that he was in a largely unmodified portion of the speedsub near its aft, or rear section.

He walked further towards the aft, staggering every few steps due to his shaky legs. He moved away from the center of the ship where Vitenza and her command were, as he wasn't foolish enough to face them head on while in his sorry state. He approached the ship’s primary fusion reactor and quickly sensed how empty the area was.

The door leading to the reactor section was sealed shut, though beside it was a ladder leading to the upper level. Prism used what little mana he could to stretch his perception beyond the sealed door, peering inside. He saw that the reactor was inactive due to a small perforation in its plasma confinement chamber, which was a much larger gash on the hull itself. There was a pool of water at the bottom of the chamber, though any leak had been since sealed.

Prism had a basic understanding of fusion power and other high-tech concepts, but he was not an engineer. He wasn't sure if the particle weapon could still be used with the single fusion reactor that was still in operation aboard the vessel on its bow, or front side. He shook his head angrily while he wished that he could consult with Leanna or Jaik.

"I need to keep moving." Prism said to himself.

He looked determinedly over at the ladder and made his way up it, struggling to keep his grip since his strength had not yet returned to him. On the upper level, there were far more Destructors walking around. Each of the thuggish men was armed with machine pistols, ready to kill any forces that attempted to board their ship. Vitenza knew that it was possible for Getla Base to realize how damaged her speedsub was, so she'd prepared for a possible attack. However, they were still dedicating much of their manpower to stabilizing the ship.

Prism cast a simple spell to keep himself cloaked in darkness while he crouched along the shadowy ground around his enemies. It wasn't true invisibility, but it was a far easier spell to maintain. When the lights suddenly became bright for a moment, Prism's magical darkness faded slightly, revealing the outline of this body. One of the Destructors who'd been looking in his direction dismissed the sight as a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation, much to Prism's relief.

After a few minutes of slinking about towards the ship's bow, Prism found himself outside the door to the control room. Two burly men stood guard on either side of the door where the hallway widened a bit as it led there. A hatch with a ladder leading to the lower deck was open a meter away from the door; the ladder that Prism needed to go down to bypass the control room as he headed toward the second fusion reactor. The issue for Prism was that the area was the first well-lit section that he'd encountered, no doubt due to its importance. His veil of darkness would not hide him from the guards.

A thought occurred to Prism as he hid behind a section of bulkhead that protruded out of the side of the hallway. He knew that he could siphon off the mana that made up the guards' life-force to restore his own strength. They wouldn't have much mana to supply him with, but it would be enough for his body to function normally again. It had been something that he'd always seen as a moral dilemma, even when it involved those who most would call evil. Prism knew how dangerous it was to start using people as sources of mana, how tempting it would be to get out of any situation by just draining his magically-defenseless enemies to empower himself.

But the most harmful aspect of such magic was how significantly it affected Prism. As an Elementeitan, he would gain a portion of the will and memories of those that he siphoned from. He would never truly forget what he'd done to his victims, as their voices would echo in his own mind.

"I can't...I have to find another way."

Prism shook his head as he pushed the temptation out of his heart. While he did, a new idea came to him. With a wave of his hand, he caused the sound of Vitenza's voice to be heard by the guards.

"I need both of you at the aft reactor immediately. Seems someone has found a way inside through the hull breach. I don’t want everyone to raise a fuss about this, so be discreet." Prism had the voice say into the men’s ears.

Both of the guards gave each other a queer look to make sure that they'd both heard the same message. They then took off running down the hallway, making Prism feel a small, cool breeze while they dashed by him. Prism smiled before he crawled over to the open hatch and slid down its ladder. The ladder led down to a third deck below the two tiered command room, a lower deck that only existed within the center of the speedsub. He didn't detect anyone within its illuminated vicinity, so he continued onwards through the storage sections beneath the command room.

Prism found the lack of human presence in the storage sections to be eerie, though he wasn't too bothered by it. But by the time he made it outside of the electrolysis chamber on the lower level, he sensed the largest contingent of Destructors he'd perceived so far. Ten men were gathered outside of the fusion generator overhead, while ten more patrolled the electrolysis chamber. Given the fact that the chamber was responsible for creating breathable oxygen and hydrogen fuel cells as another power source for the ship, Prism understood the increased security.

Prism could hear a man shouting orders to others on the level above him. His voice was sharp and high-pitched, but had a kindly tone about it despite his yells. What he asked of his men was strange and indecipherable to Prism.

“Couple the L16 to the W52! You two need to reinstall the G9 into the DT operant! SR is deficient and in need of a lot more juice!”

Prism expanded his perception as he hid behind the protruding bulkhead that separated the storage room from the hallway leading to the electrolysis chamber. He reached out his vision until he could see the man in charge above him. The man was very thin with light-brown skin and black hair tied up into a bun atop his narrow head. He had a long wiry beard that contrasted with his otherwise youthful face. The man wore light-blue tinted goggles as he welded some sort of valve mechanism above him. The sleeves of his violet overalls slunk down enough for Prism to see the extensive colorful tattoos that covered his arms.

Prism was struck out of his expanded perception when he heard fast-approaching footsteps behind him moving through the storage area. Prism was sure that the guards he’d distracted must’ve returned after realizing that they’d been duped. Why they hadn’t sounded the ship’s alarm, Prism didn’t know. But as he crawled behind a storage crate and hid himself in the shadows, he braced for a fight.

Prism was relieved when he saw two lean men walk by, both wearing violet overalls like the man he’d seen on the deck above. They wore sturdy hard-shelled satchels that contained an assortment of tools. Whatever they were doing above, it was important, Prism reasoned. After remotely viewing their work in more detail, Prism saw that they were creating a long, thick power cable to run more electricity somewhere. Prism guessed that they were rerouting power to the particle weapon.

“Hello hello, Head Engineer Neshal here. Fuel Cell Power is imminent. Lighting and heating will be back online within five minutes. PBTS will be back online in six minutes. Thank you all for your patience.”

Prism smirked at how friendly the Destructor engineer sounded, especially when compared to Vitenza. Knowing that the clock was ticking against him and the base, Prism knew that he needed to act immediately to stop them. He had an idea that would be just as risky as the rest of the ideas he'd had that night.

Prism needed power, and he knew just where to get it.

The corridor leading to the electrolysis chamber was well-lit, as was the deck above it where the engineers were working. Beside the two guards outside of the electrolysis chamber door was a ladder leading up to Neshal and his workers. Prism knew that he couldn't sneak up the ladder and catch the engineers unawares since there were several guards up there monitoring the ladder. Prism had recovered some of his strength, but he was still too weak for acrobatics and fanciful spellcrafting. The only option left for him was good old-fashioned misdirection.

Prism leaned around the corner of the storage room and raised his finger towards an unlit red bulb on the corridor wall. His eyes shimmered red while he sent a small jolt into the mechanism, triggering the alarm within. Soon, the entire speedsub was put on high alert as the alarms started blaring throughout the ship. He'd unexpectedly disabled the ship-wide intercom system as well, which was both intertwined with the alarm circuitry and already significantly damaged.

Prism then conjured an illusion upon himself to appear like one of the guards he'd fooled outside of the command room. He then stood up and started running down the corridor towards the electrolysis chamber, fighting against the pain of the cramps he was still getting in his legs.

"Are we under attack?" One of the guards asked the disguised Prism.

"Damn alarm came on without any messages telling us what's going on!" The other, surlier guard yelled.

"False alarm. Some sort of glitch in the system. I've got to tell Neshal to fix it, since the comms are being affected." Prism said to the two men.

"He's still up there." The quieter guard replied while pointing at the ladder.

"He better turn it off soon! No telling what noise is seeping out of all these holes in our hull!" The surly guard shouted angrily.

Prism nodded to the men before climbing up the ladder. His arms and his legs ached, making him bite his lower lip to stifle his pained groans. When the guards on the upper level saw him on the ladder, they lowered their pistols and let him up. Prism felt a small sense of relief that lasted only a few seconds.

"What are you doing up here alone, Jupe? Where's Dudai?" One of the guards said while Prism watched Neshal lower his welding tool and look over at him curiously.

"He's hanging back to make sure that this really is a false alarm. Our boys in command say that it was started by a power surge. They want Neshal to fix it, since the comms are down, too."

Prism was completely unsure of how he should speak. He had never even heard how Jupe’s voice sounded. And from the looks of the men around him who actually knew Jupe, he'd been completely unconvincing.

Prism began to walk over to the thick conduit that lay in the middle of the corridor that ran out of the fusion reactor room. He saw that all eyes were on him while the red lights flashed on the wall and the annoying alarm sound echoed through the corridor. Prism even sensed the approach of several more Destructors from the ship's aft.

It was now or never.

"No way. You're him, aren't you? You're the alien." Neshal said in quiet awe.

Prism looked at Neshal with a lowered brow, though he was impressed with how discerning Neshal turned out to be. Prism then fell down to his knees and dug his fingers into the live conduit. His body became wracked with an immense electrical current as he fed on the power from the fusion reactor.

A guard who thought that the disguised Prism was still his friend Jupe rushed over to Prism and foolishly tried to grab him. The guard was sent flying back into a wall, electrocuted by the force of the current moving through Prism's body. The three guards began firing on Prism, but arcs of plasma destroyed their bullets before they could strike him. Neshal just stood by and smiled at the sight, captivated by the increasing incandescence of Prism's still-disguised body.

"Shut the power off!" One of Neshal's workers shouted at him, knocking him out of his transfixation.

Neshal grabbed a lever on the wall behind him and pulled it down, though the conduit didn't lose power. Neshal shook his head and smiled once again. The corridor was becoming warmer and brighter while Prism continued to drink deep of the ship's electricity. Wind began to be whipped up around him, causing technical papers and small tools to fly around Prism and the seven others nearby. The red lights of the alarm began to dim and its sound began to distort as its power was diverted to Prism.

"He's keeping the circuit open to absorb more power! Unbelievable!" Neshal yelled in facetious glee.

Prism's form began to shift into that of his mystical body, with his ethereal tendrils unfurling from his back and head. He started to lose himself as the electrical power threatened to overwhelm him. It took the firing of a portable railgun to snap him back to his corporeal existence. The long metal rod passed through Prism while his body was transitioning between a physical and energy state, luckily doing only minor damage to him as a result. Prism's illusory disguise faded as well, and he returned to his normal human appearance.

Prism rolled out of the path of the railgun-wielding guard that readied himself for another shot. Prism, energized and ready to fight, imbued himself with a spell to make him faster and stronger. With shimmering red irises, Prism leapt into the fusion reactor room, severed the conduit leading out of it with a chop of his right hand, and sealed the airtight metal door behind him.

"Everyone, get to the escape vessels! He's going to destroy the fusion reactor!" Neshal shouted to the men in the corridor.