Babylon 5 Crusade: of Fusion and Fission
A Technomage's spacecraft looked like a small black dart, but the outer size was deceiving. Galen's ship had many large rooms and several laboratories. He had spent the last few hours preparing his mind and body to perform a dangerous and powerful ritual, in one of the largest laboratories. He had drawn a pentagram on the shiny black floor, in mercury and liquid gold. The glowing lines of the pentagram delineated the borders of a new reality. Inside each arm of the star, symbols and lines of power created a bubble universe where different physical laws and conditions applied. Galen had planned what those conditions were to be, and it was his hope, as he sat in the middle of the design, that they would allow him to survive the ritual.
Around the edges of the pentagram, in the area, most people labelled "reality," was a tree growing out of the floor, at the apex of the pentagram, and at each of the other four points, twisted pieces of Shadow technology. Stripped to the waist, his mind focused inward, turning off the parts of his body and brain that created the sensations of pain. Relaxing deeper, mind relaxing body, and body relaxing mind, his focus reached down to the cells in the spine that linked the nerves coming from the body with the nerves that carried the signal to the brain. Scientists called these the Gate Cells. Galen closed the gates. Then he did the same to the pain centres of the brain. He knew it would not be enough to shield him from the torment of the ritual, but it would at least dull the immediate pain and shock.
Galen turned his focus to his techno-organic implants. They gave him many extraordinary abilities. Shadow scientists had created them to turn people into weapons of terror. But the Technomages had rebelled and tried to become more than just living weapons. The implants had been kept alive, passed down through generations of mages. He diverted his body's blood and nutrients away from most, concentrating on the implant that had grown to be part of his liver.
When Galen was ready, he sent a thought to the Ship, and power flowed into the room, grounding itself in the corners of tables, leaping from point to point before crossing the boundary to store in the pentagram.
Galen's heartbeat slowed, and his mind separated from the body. He looked down at the body sitting cross-legged on the floor. Lean, the pale skin showing black implants and blue veins. Not bad condition for its age, he thought. He was never sure if this stage was a lucid dream, or if his spirit was outside his body.
"Nice work," Alwyn said, appearing in the room. The old technomage looked over the equipment taking up space on the work tables. "I've known this was possible, but I never wanted to put my body through the stress."
"Am I dreaming you?" Galen asked, "Or is there something you want? As you've noticed, I'm a little busy."
"Yes, your Place of Power is rather in need of repair," Alwyn waved a hand at a wall of the ship, and it faded, revealing the Excalibur floating in space close to the Transport. The flagship of the Terran fleet, the mile-long craft was shaped like a sword and normally moved switfly through the void. But now there was a hole amidships, and one of the rear gun batteries was missing entirely. Excalibur drifted, powerless, in a debris field made up of many dead ships. Alien vessels had attacked without warning, and when it was clear they were losing the fight, the last two had rammed Excalibur. The crew had been working ceaselessly for days, trying to repair systems that were not just damaged, but had significant pieces missing.
"The tree's a nice touch," Alwyn said. Stepping over the lines of liquid gold, which seemed to flow in an intricate pattern of their own. His robes changed as he moved, from white with a gold embroidered dragon, to black and a blue dragon, to gold and a black dragon. Galen realised the old man's idea of himself was changing. That thought disturbed his concentration. Alwyn had always been a steady anchor in his life.
"Excalibur is not my Place of Power," Galen corrected, sending a thought to the ship to begin the next stage. Energy leapt from the pentagram to the implant in Galen's stomach. His body arched its back and froze, every muscle taut, the skin white as blood surged into the implant.
"Then you're going to a lot of trouble for a place you are just passing by. Even with all the resources of your ship- you do not have enough power! You cannot succeed in this!"
"I'm using the pentagram to store power, it should work with enough time to build up," Galen said. He watched his body writhe in pain. He could feel it pulling his mind back in and fought to stay aloof.
The gold began to rise from the floor, wriggling into basic geometric shapes.
"I don't think it will hold, but I can help," the old man pushed a hand into Galen's body, and it lit from the inside. Galen had a lucid moment to wonder where the old man had gained this kind of power? He could feel the body trying to suck his mind back down. The stomach turned red as if a fire burned inside. Every muscle fought and writhed. The skin bulged as something grew inside. Galen watched all his careful preparations fail as the skin stretched and blackened –
The body swallowed him. Galen screamed- muscles ripped from bone. The black skin grew and burst open like a flower bud, and something crawled out of it.
Followed by another, and another.