Harry looked aimlessly out the ship's window, distracted by the Earth's enormous silhouette that seemed to grow smaller and smaller in his eyes, when in truth, the ship he was traveling in made a steady course away from the blue planet. To his left, a co-pilot he'd gotten to know for only a few moments before launch, flicked numerous dials and switches as their borrowed vessel finally tore free of the Earth's gravitational pull, which resisted their escape. Harry breathed slowly, his thoughts of blissful nostalgia beginning to deepen as he watched the world shrink before him… That planet held so many memories, good and bad, and it seemed most odd that he should find himself leaving it in order to save it.
His co-pilot, Colin being his name, steered the ship with one hand as he worked various panels that regulated power flows and ventilation systems. He looked serenely in control, though Harry admitted to himself, he could probably do better on his own… Dumbledore had been reluctant to tell him why he had the other man join him in this endeavor, when he'd borrowed the ship, though he did recall hearing the words; "keep him calm" said somewhere in the equation, but as to what that meant exactly, he was unsure. Regardless, whatever brief conversation he'd had with the younger man, Harry could feel from the outset that he was little more than a nuisance to be around, and he was very much hoping he might drop the irritation off at the nearest space port, assuming of course that he would actually pass one. He honestly didn't know where this trip would take him, though he kept his eyes keen as he scanned the blank space ahead of the ship, trying to find some clue as to what the destruction of civilian vessels might mean, and whether or not they were related to Voldemort's ever growing army on Earth. Though where to begin exactly, THAT was the challenge.
A beeping noise reverberated from the co-pilot's chair, and Harry turned about to see Colin flick a switch to bring up a large holographic monitor in front of his face, of which he watched with curiosity as several flashing icons appeared.
'We have another ship on radar,' Colin said with enthusiasm, clearly expressing his status as an amateur, 'It's at ten thousand kilometers and closing. I'll activate the cloak…'
Harry barely bothered to give a nod, sure enough in the youth's abilities to let him enjoy himself for a while, though he made a distinctive effort to look ahead through the view slits, as the sun's rays began to shine towards the detected vessel.
'Our ship is cloaked, is it not?' Harry asked briefly, receiving a quick nod from the other man. 'Hmm… cut the engines if you would Colin.'
'Cut them? But why? We're under cloak and invisible to their sensors… why would you want to…?'
Harry looked over to him with a streak of impatience, dearly hoping his young companion wouldn't contradict his orders for the entire trip.
'I'd very much like to take a closer look at the other ship, so as to make the most of my time up here. Now if you please, cut… the… engines.'
Colin stared back mutely for a second before grumbling under his breath. Slowly he eased back on his control columns to bring the ship's speed down to a gentle stop, leaving them to float in the vacuole of space as the other craft approached at a slow speed. They both stared curiously out the vision slits as the metal hulk neared them at a snails pace.
'What type of ship do you think it is? I can't match it's profile with any recorded vessels.' Colin asked, his gaze alternating between a computer readout and the approaching vessel, 'And it's coming in awfully slow…'
Harry watched it in silence, trying to pinpoint identification details as sunlight shone upon it, gleaming off it's metal hull.
'Let's find out shall we…?' he replied to the over curious co-pilot, who returned an unsatisfied frown, his young age giving him a certain level of impatience. Harry however, found himself in his best form when waiting. It was a trait you acquired when tracking an equally patient enemy… 'Now then, let's take a look at you…' The mysterious ship propelled itself ever so slowly to the veritable right of their own vessel, and both Harry and his companion followed it with their gaze, seeing at last just what they were dealing with…
To Harry's surprise, the vessel had League markings written neatly in orange lettering from one end of it to the other. But more surprising, perhaps shocking, was that there was little remaining of it that could really be called a ship at all. Giant, melted holes checkered the right-hand side of the vessel, being worn like enormous wounds that penetrated deep within its alloy shell. Harry could quite easily see numerous bulkheads and levels, whilst internal fires raged within like some unholy inferno. He couldn't understand how anything could possibly survive onboard, and vaguely he noted the sporadic nature of it's engines, which flickered on and off as though unable to function normally. In short, it was a floating wreck, and he felt sorry for whatever people were still trapped aboard, as the natural state of the ship would ultimately negate it's ability to re-enter Earth's atmosphere in one piece. They were destined to die a horrible, fiery death.
'What could possibly do that to a ship?' Harry muttered to himself as much as anyone, staring amiably as the stricken vessel finally disappeared from visual range, back towards Earth. Colin looked over his scanners as another beeping noise reverberated throughout the cockpit, and as he looked up, he pointed towards a large cluster of blinking green shapes that were present on his radar.
'There…' he said hoarsely, indicating to the flickering mass, 'We should see it…'
Harry looked once more out through the forward vision slits, using his enhanced eyesight to his maximum ability as he strained to see what the radar had picked up. For much of what was ahead, there was little more than darkness that stretched on for an eternity, until suddenly, shapes appeared. Giant forms of burnished metal materialized from nowhere, rays of sun revealing their presence to the naked eye. Hatches, panels, batteries of bristling weapons… it wasn't long before he knew he was looking at not one, but over a hundred warships of various classes, spread across the event horizon like an enormous swarm, with the Celestial gate floating ominously in the background. From first glance alone Harry could identify Nymph class attack ships, Facade class gun frigates, and even dreaded Phantom class Cruisers, which themselves were monolithic pieces of mechanical terror, capable of unleashing hailstorms of tremendous destructive power.
Colin whistled in awe as the full scale of the space-bound fleet was revealed before him.
'That's the Viridian's Navy! Merlin's beard I can't believe I'm seeing this… there has to be over two hundred warships here!'
'He has a Navy?' Harry asked with a touch of skepticism, 'I thought that was all a load of rubbish.'
'Oh no professor Potter,' Colin replied, inching forward in his seat, 'It is quite true… that is, I've always believed he's possessed a large military fleet. You cannot govern a planet without one right? I think this is probably the culprit for that damaged ship…'
Harry stayed silent, watching the Viridian's fleet suspiciously whilst biting his lip. Colin put on a disbelieving face.
'What? Don't you think so?'
'No…' Harry replied shortly, 'I don't think so. If that fleet truly wished to destroy that League craft, it could have annihilated it outright. The weapons on those warships are more than capable of that… no, I don't think this is our answer. My guess is that Garcia sent these ships here to make it look like he's dealing with the pirate threat. If there even is a threat. Judging by the state of that other vessel though, I'd say these measures are having little effect.'
Colin passed him a rather bemused look.
'Garcia? Who's Garcia?'
Harry nearly choked, but then realised that most people seldom saw the Viridian, let alone knew what his real name was. He turned away dismissively.
'Never mind.'
'Soooo…' Colin began, a hesitant streak apparent in his voice, 'If this fleet didn't do it, then what did?'
'I'm not sure… but I hope it's not what I fear. Accelerate to cruising speed, and keep the cloak active. I don't want any unnecessary attention.'
'Right.'
As Colin pushed forward on the control sticks, their ship began to quickly pick up speed, accelerating through the Viridian's fleet which floated idly as though waiting for further orders. Harry hoped very much that the cloak of their ship would keep them invisible from prying eyes, but he kept his fingers crossed all the same as they maneuvered through the mechanical masses, often coming within meters of the enormous Phantom class cruisers, which reverberated with the eerie hum of their engines as they cast shadows over them. Giant gun emplacements lit up by ambient lights across the warships metal hull, put the size of their own vessel into stark comparison. Harry could've sworn he heard Colin gulp in anxiety when they passed one particularly menacing weapon, which bristled with magical arcs of energy as though preparing to fire.
'Relax…' Harry whispered in a level tone, receiving a terrified glance from his co-pilot, 'I heard some of these vessels can detect an erratic heartbeat.'
If he was hoping that would calm the nerves of his annoying companion, then he was severely mistaken. Colin's eyes widened even further as he stared toward the gothic form of the Phantom Cruiser, a cold sweat dripping from his brow. Harry shook his head in dismay at the younger man's inability to handle pressured situations, but nonetheless kept a keen eye on his surroundings, watching for even the slightest movement that might indicate hostile intentions by any of Garcia's fleet. He was still at a loss as to what it was doing here in orbit around the earth, but had a deep resounding sense that this was not the answer he was searching for.
"Search their minds Harry…" spoke a familiar sinuous voice in Harry's head, "Use Essence my boy, learn the motives of your foe… USE IT!"
Harry did his best to push the Essence spawned being from his mind, knowing it was a sign he was on the threshold of going mad… How he needed the other Narcissan books. It was becoming apparent to him just how much of a burden this Essence magic was, now that it threatened to consume him alive.
"Wait a second…" he thought to himself suddenly, stroking his chin, "Essence is a burden…? Yes… that's it… that's what the dream meant!" Realization hit him as to the meaning behind his latest vision, of which he could not believe he had missed before… oh he was so foolish not to have known earlier.
'What dream?' Colin said suddenly, and Harry realized he had spoken aloud.
'Nothing! No, don't worry about it… err, just something I've been turning over in my head, that's all. Oh, by the way, watch your speed lad, I don't want them picking up on our fuel trail.'
Colin squinted suspiciously towards him, but dismissed whatever thought he had, and eased back off the controls whilst keeping the ship at a level speed as they passed the final rows of picket ships. Leaving the enormous fleet behind, they headed towards the void of space near the Celestial gate where the League freighter was reported to have been shot down. Perhaps now, Harry thought to himself, they might actually find some answers. So much rested on this, he mustn't fail.
'Ok then… we're coming up on the ship's last reported co-ordinates.' Colin said as he mucked around with numerous dials. Harry looked amiably out of the ship's windows searching for… what, he didn't know exactly, something perhaps. Slowing down, their craft ceased activity in the rear engines and floated momentarily, scanning the surrounding space for life signs. As if any were to be found, Harry thought it amusing to think Colin would assume life survived the freighter tragedy. Such it was to be young and naïve, though he let him continue, until after a few frustrating minutes, his co-pilot shook his head and stopped searching for life forms, residing himself to just sulking over how wrong he had been to bother looking in the first place. Harry sighed…
'Don't feel bad my boy, I hadn't expected anyone to survive here. The possibility of living through an explosion in space is highly remote.'
Colin stared back grumpily, but Harry shrugged him off. Far in the distance, the Celestial gate shimmered like a halo, and he dimly remembered a time roughly ten years ago, when the Viridian opened the gate for travel between the numerous colonies that had been established throughout the galaxy. There was such fanfare involved with the entire ordeal, with enormous crowds cheering as television covered the opening ceremony, bands and performers displaying their skills to the revelers of a new age. It seemed almost peaceful, that moment in history. The initial shock of wizards and muggles coming together had finally begun to level out, and prosperity was occurring everywhere. It had seemed natural that space should become the new frontier, though everything that had transpired since then had served only to ridicule those achievements. As though the blood and sacrifice to whom everything was owed simply ceased to be of value, cast aside like remnants of a bygone era. Harry felt determined to get to the bottom of this plot quickly, and so he didn't feel compelled to trust all his fortunes to the whims of a machine, it was time he knew, that he should take matters into his own hands…
'Steady your scanners Colin,' he said in a level tone, receiving an odd look from his co-pilot, 'I'll search for life in a less contemporary manner.'
And reluctantly, he opened himself to Essence, knowing the Viridian could not possibly detect its use this far into space… A nimbus of ancient magic embroiled him from the deep chasms of his mind as he closed his eyes, though the magic would be invisible to the eyes of a non-Essence user, being little more than spirit in the way it formed… Expanding the scope of his mind, Harry took in the vast array of space around him, reaching forth with tendrils of Essence enhanced thought to probe the fabric of reality in search of life forms, no matter how minute. Such thought would be impossible for a normal person, whether they be wizard or muggle, as it resided on a level far deeper than human meditation, yet it allowed for so much more than mere sensations could describe. Through eyes that seemed not to be his own, Harry's mind became one with the vacuole of space, as he sensed for… a presence, of some kind, though he was unsure what exactly. The limits of his magical knowledge became apparent with the seemingly invisible wall of thought that stopped him from expanding his mind further into the material universe, and so he yearned once more for the subtle taste of primeval skills, born only of the ancient Narcissan books. Oh how he longed for those books…
Harry's eyes snapped open at once, a sense of urgency apparent as he felt a tremor of Essence surge within him. Colin stared back with a puzzled look, not quite understanding of what Harry felt. Something was coming…
'Are you certain our cloak is raised?!' Harry asked the bemused man, trying to break him out of his reverie. Colin rolled his eyes as if checking were a major chore.
'For the hundredth time, yes the cloak is raised. Why?'
'I felt something… nearing us. I want to know what's out there…'
A sleek ship of burnished metal appeared suddenly across their path, surprising Colin at realizing Harry was right. Resembling a winged needle, two glowing engines protruding from it's rear propelled it forward at an incredible speed, making it appear little more than a blur even to Harry, whose trained eyes adjusted frantically to keep up. Colin stared at it for a brief millisecond before consulting his computers as the unusual vessel zipped out of visual range. Hundreds of ship silhouettes flickered across his screens at his command, and he hoped he might match one so as to identify the vessel… But none did.
'I don't understand it…' Colin piped frustratingly, banging an impatient fist down upon his control panels, 'The computer doesn't even recognize the class of ship. It's almost as if the thing don't exist.'
Harry stroked his chin in thought, turning his gaze to the inexperienced co-pilot.
'That's probably because it doesn't. The ship must be a private vessel of some kind, like a yacht or something.'
Colin sniffed in doubt.
'A yacht?! Rubbish! Who do you know that could possibly afford a yacht of that size?'
'Can you think of no one?' Harry replied, crossing his arms, 'You have limited perception I think…'
Furrowing his brow, Colin burrowed himself in thought at the comment, before he looked up seemingly affronted.
'You don't think… not the Viridian? THE Viridian himself?!'
Harry nodded as he flicked his gaze out the cabin windows, where the black ship was little more than a shining orb as it sped on.
'I do indeed believe the Viridian owns that ship. However, what I find confusing is the exact reason he would be out here in space, so close to the Celestial gate. Look out the windows, that's where he's headed.'
Colin looked through the glass in the Gate's direction, watching the minute speck of burnished metal close in upon it. Harry sat in a knowing posture, his arms crossed.
'Why would he be going there…?' Colin asked faintly, stroking the side of his neck.
'That's what I intend to find out.' Harry said at last, his facial expression betraying a sense of single minded focus, 'Colin, I want you to follow that ship.'
The youngster's eyes almost bulged out of his head at the suggestion.
'You have got to be JOKING!!!' he shouted in disbelief, 'I'm not going to follow the ruler of Earth just so you can satisfy some curious hunch! Can you even BEGIN to imagine what he'd do with us if he discovered we were trailing him?!'
Harry's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting darkly.
'I can imagine a fate far worse young man, believe me… Now, follow the Viridian's vessel.'
Colin went frantic, shaking his head from side to side.
'No… no, no, no, no, NO!!! I won't do it! He'll have me obliterated into a million pieces! He'll make me pay. Make my children pay. And my children's children. And my children's, children's children! And my…'
'I don't have time for this…' Harry muttered to himself, trying as best he could not to vent out his frustration on the foolish man. He clicked his fingers suddenly, and Colin stopped his mindless fanaticisms and just sat motionless, his eyes going cross-eyed before slowly realigning themselves. His body slackened…
'Now, young Colin…' Harry spoke gratingly, rather upset he had to use Essence in a way so similar to the Imperious curse, 'I don't want to spend any more than is necessary out in this cold void of space. I need answers Colin, and that ship is the best bet I have to obtaining them. I'd say we're far enough now not to worry about our fuel residues being picked up by fast flying. Now follow it as fast as you can.'
Colin sat there confused before his hands moved deftly towards the control sticks, his focus directing to the navigation of the ship.
'Yes…' he said weakly, the Essence having a powerful effect over his mind, 'Yes, you're right. We don't want to waste our time…'
'Good.'
And in an instant the pulse engines in the rear of the ship were brought online, whilst the hull of the vessel shuddered violently as it was abruptly pushed from idle to full speed in the blink of an eye. Harry held tightly to the handholds of his seat as the g-forces pulled him tightly into the back rest, his teeth grinding numbly together as their craft picked up speed, flying swiftly after their quarry whilst becoming enveloped in the shadow of the enormous Celestial gate… All the while, he felt he was taking the first step into something far greater, and that Garcia held answers to many a question he had…
Further ahead, Garcia slowed his ship down before the enormous ring-like form of the Celestial Gate, which blocked out the moon's glowing aura like a solar eclipse. Normally he would stop for a minute just to admire the sheer scale of the technical beast that floated before him, it's many hundreds of levels holding large contingents of his loyal Viridian guard, whilst it served him as a power base as well with which to manipulate the politics of Earth. He could see the thousands of missile batteries installed generously across it's metal hull, along with other, more deadly incarnations of metal and magic which had been ordered built by the Dark Lord himself… His master's plans were beginning to come together it seemed, Garcia only wondered how many days it would be before Voldemort would commit to his master stroke, and finally set the elaborate schemes into motion. Perhaps then, he may begin to understand just what kind of role he'd played in the entire saga. And perhaps then, he may grant him the honor of becoming a Deatheater as grand as it seemed to him, though he regrettably he felt his chances were slim if Lucius had anything to do with it. That sly creep was always blocking his attempts at being noticed by the Dark Lord, always taking the credit for things that he, Garcia, had done in his master's name. That bastard!
As he waited there in his zero gravity cockpit, a loud crackling noise came over the ship's intercom system, which he listened to intently as a holographic image of a familiar lieutenant appeared before his face.
'Imperial starship Paratamizer, your clearance codes have been cleared and we are awaiting your choice of destination. Please advise…'
Garcia smiled maliciously.
'Take me to Neptune system.' He spoke silkily into the speakers, 'There are matters there I wish to attend to in person.'
'As you wish,' the uniformed man replied from the other end, 'Exit trajectory will preside in Neptune's orbit. You may enter at your whim. Celestial Gate out.'
And with that the flickering hologram winked out, shrouding the Paratamizer's cockpit in an eerie darkness, save for the lights present across his control panels. As enormous generators placed about the rim of the gate began to glow intensely with magic, a giant shimmering wall of blue light formed within the halo of the gate, creating a bonded connection with an area of space many light years from his current location. Garcia sat there watching the process unfold, whilst a tingling sensation scraped at the back of his mind, distracting him. Absent mindedly he placed his right hand inside his robe pockets, stroking an ancient hard covered book within their dark confines.
'Patience my old companion,' he spoke reverently, withdrawing the Narcissan book, 'Your time will come yet… very soon, you WILL make me a Deatheater.'
And with that he urged his ship onwards into the halo of light before him, not realizing as his vessel was embroiled in energy, that another ship was following him through from behind…
Harry remembered little from his experience through the Celestial Gate, save for scattered images of light and power surging through his veins, tinkering with the thoughts in his head. But despite whatever illusions he may have had as he left Earth's space, none could compare to when his ship left hyper warp badly, cart wheeling an uncontrolled manner into nameless space, whilst his disorientated co-pilot fought the engines for control.
'I do hope this ship can survive another jump if we're to get back home.' Colin remarked as he vented overheating gases from the engine mechanisms. 'This craft isn't designed to handle such stresses upon it's hull.'
'Never mind that,' Harry said in a distracted tone, looking out the vision slits, 'I think I know where the Viridian was going. Look…'
Colin followed his stare out the windows, before his own eyes widened in amazement, having never witnessed such a scene before. Ahead of them was a giant planet, that glowed ominously with a bluish hue as ravenous winds lashed within it's atmosphere.
'Neptune…!' Colin whispered in awe, totally engulfed in admiration whilst not watching the Viridian's vessel flying towards the planet.
'Quick, follow his ship Colin.' Harry said in expectation, clicking his fingers as though it would make the process any quicker. 'We have much to learn yet I believe.'
Restarting the battered engines, Colin pushed his sticks forward, the ship once again picking up speed after their quarry. He gave Harry several querying looks, as though wondering what was coming over him in going along with Harry's plan. Perhaps he wondered why he wasn't still at home tucked away in a comfortable bed, instead of flying about in the dim gloom of space for some unfathomable reason, remaining stuck in a mode of behaviour almost like he was in a trance of some kind, or under some kind of spell.
In the eerie half light of the sun, which shone far weaker this distance into space, Harry watched as Garcia began flying just above Neptune's vicious atmosphere, his engines glowing like bright magenta orbs against the planet's blue shadow.
"What are you doing old wizard?" Harry half wondered to himself, scanners constantly watching the ship, "Why are you out this far?"
All of a sudden, their ship lurched in aggressive deceleration as Colin pulled back hard on the control sticks. Harry was barely saved by his seat straps as his body was thrown forwards from the kinetic power of slowing down… He shot an angry look to his co-pilot, but stayed his temper when he noticed a holographic radar screen erected before the young man's face, showing hundreds of flickering green dots seemingly representing objects ahead of them.
'What is it?' he asked abruptly, studying the concerned look across Colin's youthful face.
'Up ahead, there's a formation of ships… but… I don't see why they would be this far out into space.'
It didn't seem much of a mystery to him really, and he looked ahead to see metallic shapes glinting from the sun's dull light.
'Well, there are colonies out here. Perhaps they're apart of a local freighter service or something.'
'No, not likely.' Colin interjected, as he fumbled with several dials on his keypad, bringing up numerous diagnostic screens, 'The vessels are carrying vast amounts of curse energy on board, my scans have just confirmed it. They're warships…'
'Warships…?'
Harry held his breath as their ship glided slowly towards the unknown vessels, whilst feeling glad their cloak had somehow remained operational despite the hyper warp. The golden hued ships, which numbered well into their hundreds, laid scattered in a sphere-like formation in the planet's orbit, their engines giving off a strange, red glow that illuminated them in an eerie light. A sudden sense of dread seemed to permeate through his mind at the sight of those ships, though Harry did notice that they looked very different from the Viridian's own impressive fleet. Their designs were archaic instead of smooth and modern, yet they also held an incredibly advanced streak about them as they floated there idly, apparently devoid of life even as Colin made his way through.
'They're Telsacom vessels…' Colin said after a moment, checking his ships silhouette databanks.
'Telsacom? I don't understand.' Harry replied, turning to him, 'I thought space companies couldn't produce military fleets. The law forbids it, does it not?'
'Yes, it does.' Colin said once more, looking out the windows at the old ships, 'But it was because of Telsacom that the laws were made… You see, when we first began using space for business purposes, the demand was great and the competition fierce. A lot of different freighter corporations popped up everywhere, just like weeds, and all competed for the same space with which to buy and sell their goods. Rivalry became so intense after a short time, that freighter companies started using armed ships, not only to protect themselves, but also to destroy competitors vessels. It was only when Telsacom produced a fleet of warships specifically for this task, that the Viridian king acted and changed the law to prevent such fleets being produced. He commanded that all businesses were to strip their ships of weapons, and any built solely for combat were to be scuttled immediately.'
'I see…' Harry said shortly, his eyes glued to the enormous Telsacom ships that cast shadows over their own. 'But that doesn't explain why so many are out here in the middle of nowhere.'
Colin scratched his chin in thought, apparently in agreement.
'No it doesn't… Though I heard that during the Viridian's insurrection against them, Telsacom was quick to strip it's fleet of all military vessels… Too quick so they say. Perhaps the fleet wasn't destroyed at all. We may very well be looking at it now…'
The Telsacom fleet floated there idly, not apparently doing anything as their own comparatively tiny vessel glided by. But the sheer size of the ships made Colin's story all that more believable, and Harry knew straight away that for Garcia to have ignored such a threat, would have been to place the world in great danger… Yet the reason for Telsacom hiding it's fleet this far out into space still eluded him. Neptune's system was uninhabitable save for a number of scattered orbital platforms. The very nature of the blue planet itself was one of violent storms that no ship could pass through intact, so one would wonder exactly what value this desolate part of space would have for either Garcia, or for Telsacom. Whatever it was, Harry had a feeling inside that perhaps both Garcia and Telsacom held similar agendas, maybe even a common objective. But as for what that would be, he hadn't a clue.
'Hey, what's that?' he said suddenly, as he observed a cluster of ships surrounding a large metal object. Colin followed his gaze before he started nodding his head, some scrap of knowledge beating about in his mind.
'Irrigan platform.' he replied, furrowing his brow curiously, 'Used to be part of a shipyard for the building of vessels during the trade conflicts. Was a lot bigger years back, I reckon Neptune's gravity must have pulled the rest of it apart. No one lives there anymore, it's nothing but a piece of wreckage that's been floating here for two decades.'
'You are full of knowledge aren't you?' Harry said to the young man, leaning towards him 'Care to tell me why that thing's so important?'
Colin scratched his head in confusion.
'Important…? Why do you say that?'
'Because…' Harry spoke in a knowing voice, 'The Viridian is heading straight for it.'
Colin pushed his way towards the window for a better look, only to see the lithe, black vessel decelerate beneath a large docking clamp, which extended with mechanical difficulty to grasp upon it's hull. Harry engaged the secondary controls of the ship to steer them closer, receiving a frightened look from his younger companion.
'What are you doing?! Those ships might detect us!' he said frantically to him, trying to wrestle the controls away from Harry's iron grip.
'Not likely.' Harry replied in earnest, before he clicked his fingers for good measure. Colin's eyes went sideways for a moment before twisting back into focus.
'Yes… of course you're right, they couldn't possibly know we're here.'
Harry smiled knowing that he could so easily manipulate a person's mind, and set his sights on Irrigan platform, which floated menacingly amidst a collective of archaic warships. He mused over the metal shipyard for a moment as it filled his many different scanners and viewing machines, still wondering what Garcia could possibly be up to in this abandoned place… If what Colin had said was true, then there wouldn't be a sole person aboard the platform, and it may even be without breathable oxygen. But that was something he was willing to risk in this case. He planned to go onboard.
Guiding their small ship towards a dubious docking clamp, Harry engaged deceleration thrusters which pulled their speed down quickly in preparation. Hoping not to be noticed by anyone, he made sure the cloak was still raised when he located another docking clamp over the opposite side of the platform, far from Garcia's black ship. He was half balancing on the prospect that passageways within the old place would lead him to the monarch, yet he still had his fingers crossed about that one… With his fingers tense upon the control columns, he gently eased the ship near the clamp, and signaled the platform's outdated computers to grapple the hull. Two corroding metal arms folded out from the station's exterior, before they extended forth and locked upon Harry's vessel with an iron grip, making their ship shudder for a moment as they took a permanent hold. With any luck, these clamps would also release as well. There was no telling just how corroded they were.
Colin sat there without really saying anything, apparently in some kind of trance since Harry used Essence on him to cloud his mind. Harry became slightly worried that he'd perhaps been too forceful with it's use on someone so young, but it kept him quiet at least, so there wasn't anything to feel guilty about. Harry pointed a menacing finger at him as he undid his seat restraints and began floating towards the airlock door.
'Stay here,' he said in an authoritive tone, receiving a blank look from Colin, 'I'm going to check this place out on my own, but if I have to get out in a hurry, I want you here with the engines primed to go. Do we have an understanding?'
Colin nodded hazily, making Harry want to grimace a little. But deciding to leave his admonishments there in the ship, he turned about and floated out the airlock door, just as artificial gravity from the other side began to slowly pull him to his feet whilst the hatch behind closed with a harsh echo… He looked forwards to the second door of the airlock, which would lead into the station, and took a long, deep breath.
"Here goes nothing…" he thought pessimistically, and with one final moment of reflection, he pulled down upon an old rusting lever to his right, which activated numerous mechanisms to open the door…
Holding his breath in trepidation, Harry shielded his eyes as a blast of ice cold air struck him in the face, putting his feet off balance as the artificial gravity took a hold upon him, pulling his form to the floor. The rush of air howled at him like a Banshee, as years of internal pressure released itself into the airlock, before a few moments passed by and the wind became little more than still air once more, as though it had never been disturbed… Harry cautiously lowered his guard to peer into the corridor beyond, which was shrouded in an ethereal darkness that seemed to extend forever, his own rasping breath resounding in haunted echoes down the long abandoned hallway.
Summoning a ball of Essence over his palm, Harry slowly walked into the dark abyss of the platform, shining ambient rays light over walls and floors to take in the lingering remnants of a time decades ago, whilst his gentle footsteps sounded like harsh grating along the steel wired catwalks. It occurred to him only vaguely that this platform had been built just after space was first colonized, when muggles were still coming to terms with wizard existence. And yet it still struck a chord with him, as though this long forgotten piece of architecture was a part of him somehow, like an innate feeling, or a missing piece of a whispered past. Whatever it was, the feeling was strong here, as was the desire he felt to use Essence, which had peaked unusually the moment he stepped onboard. And that felt dangerous to him, as he more than anyone remembered that invisible line of power he could not cross within his mind, for to do so, would be to lead to disaster.
Walking slowly along the metal walkways, he shined his conjured light about himself, bringing to witness sights not seen for near twenty years. Ice covered the walls in cold crystalline sheaths to turn his breath a misty fog, whilst a myriad of insulating pipes and ducts stretched across them in spidery formations, starting from nowhere and seemingly ending within the old metal of the walls themselves, disappearing from view. It was truly a work of technical disarray, yet symbolized the hesitant blending of machine and magic during the early years, when neither side truly trusted one another, and the world itself remained to be set into order. But this place held a darker side to itself as well, more like an evil composed of the cold, cruel purity of metal, rather than the noble feats that pushed for the platform's construction in the first place. It was enough to make him want to shudder, his eyes darting from side to side wary of the slightest movement.
For each step he took, the pitch blackness of his dark surroundings seemed wanting to encroach upon him, biting ruthlessly at the corners of his vision. The Essence spawned light hovering over his right palm flickered every so often in this darkness, as though some ethereal wind blew within the claustrophobic spaces of the platform's eerie corridors, threatening to blow it out entirely. Harry felt relieved in a way, that such a thing couldn't happen, even despite his improved vision in the dark, as he knew it would be a grave misfortune should he be unable to depend on Essence, for he had left his wand back on the ship by mistake. He was too far away to turn back for it now, and Garcia may have done his deeds and left by the time he returned to continue his pursuit. He had no choice but to go on.
It seemed there was no end to the hundreds of different passageways and shafts, that deviated in their direction wherever he looked. And more than once did it occur to him as he tried to keep his bearings, that he may have taken a wrong turn at some stage in his hazardous trek, being disillusioned by the darkness and overlooking crucial signs written in English… More than an hour had passed he was sure, by the time he entered a windowed passageway beyond a maze of identical corridors, where Neptune's aura shone with radiance beyond the glass, bathing the walls in a eerie blue glow. He took scant moments to stare at the planet's alien beauty, marveling at it's size and apparent inhospitable nature, before realigning his senses to his location in the platform.
By his estimates, he was close to the docking bay Garcia had secured his ship to, and knew the challenge would be even greater now, as he had to walk undetected in the darkness. It was his only way to find what the monarch was really up to out here. Walking onwards, Harry kept silent, subtly using Essence to guide his actions as he went, searching for Garcia's elusive trail. It was hard to keep the haunting nature of the place from interfering with his judgment, but nevertheless he kept his eyes firmly ahead as he left the dimly lit room down another pitch black corridor, not knowing what he might find. The prospect of finally finishing his own years of toil was alluring, and it felt to him that Garcia was the key to it all.
Suddenly he heard a noise up ahead, and silently he crouched low against a wall, using the darkness to camouflage himself in his black robes. It would have been less than a patter to the ears of a normal person, but Harry could distinctly hear soft footsteps that could only have belonged to people, and he inched himself cautiously towards the corner to risk a guarded glance… There in the center of the next room stood his quarry; Garcia, all decked out in his imperial red attire, he stood with his back to Harry, looking over something in front of him. Two of his most elite Viridian guard flanked him on either side, their enormous forms tuned to their environment as they held loaded stun rifles with armored hands. Occasionally they searched the dark confines of the room with their neural implants, whilst devices attached to their grimly armored helmets twisted and turned seemingly of their own volition to guard themselves, and more importantly, their master, from attack.
Harry pulled his head back and leant against the metal wall, breathing calmly so as not to draw attention. What was Garcia doing here, he wondered, before sneaking another look about the corner. The monarch stood silently, engrossed with something upon a pedestal, even as Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye. Trying to push questions from his mind, he watched in interest as Garcia stood mumbling to himself for one such reason or another, before there was a sudden burst of blinding light, and both he and his two guards disappeared, leaving Harry dumbstruck with his mouth gaping.
'What the…?' he said in disbelief to himself, rubbing his eyes. 'Where did he…?'
Looking about to make sure he wasn't being tailed, Harry sneaked over towards the pedestal where Garcia had been standing mere moments ago, shining his Essence light throughout the darkened room. There was little about that could give any indication as to where he had gone. Piles of rubbish, abandoned computer terminals, and odd assortments of clothing laid scattered about the room as though it's previous inhabitants had packed up and left in an incredible hurry. But nothing else could tell him of Garcia's movements, save for the lone pedestal itself, that stood on it's own at the far end of the room, whilst alien rays of blue light illuminated that single spot. On it was a parchment, that seemed bare but for a few spots of ink that were somehow vanishing into it, being absorbed at an incredible rate. Harry stared curiously at it, trying to read the last characters to be written upon it's surface, but was hampered as they too began to disappear with the ink, until nothing but blank parchment remained there to mock him.
Hurriedly he worked strands of invisible Essence magic into the parchment, hoping to derive whatever small amount of ink could be salvaged, of which could not be seen by the naked eye. Small specks began to be pulled to the surface, revealing themselves as he continued to pour minute particles of Essence into the blank sheet, somehow fighting another form of magic that was sucking the parchment dry… More and more magic did he pour into it, and more and more did the strange enchantments on the parchment seem to suck it in, before at last he managed to scavenge some semblance from the page, and he committed the symbols to memory just as he let go and they began to disappear… The symbols looked archaic, and old. And yet, somewhere within his mind he seemed to recognize their somewhat alien appearance of harsh lines and jagged edges, as though they had been committed to memory long ago. But he remembered them nonetheless… they were Narcissan symbols.
What use Garcia would have for such a language was lost to him, but it drove home a deep sense of dread when he realised that only a few examples of such script remained in the world, and all of those examples, were in the revered Narcissan books themselves! If Garcia had gotten a hold of one of those ancient volumes, then… let's just say he didn't feel entirely trustworthy of the old king. He was already power hungry as it was, so ancient knowledge the likes of which one of those books could provide would undoubtedly go to his head. It made Harry want to find him all that much quicker and end this entire fiasco, so he frantically began looking over the parchment for a way to "disappear", as Garcia had done mere moments ago.
Looking at the white sheet, he mumbled numerous incantations and spells trying to decipher what the parchment did exactly. But without achieving success, he tried holding it up to the dim light in case anything filtered through. However, there was nothing, as with his original approach. He was beginning to feel frustrated, and slammed it down onto the pedestal in annoyance.
'Why won't you work?!' he shouted at it in anger, whilst breathing heavily, as if the act would provoke it to do something. The parchment just laid there inanimately, mocking in it's idleness. Harry scratched his head in confusion, before an idea struck him suddenly, and he twisted black strands of Essence about his fingers like ink. Touching the parchment with his index finger, he drew the Narcissan symbols onto it, recreating it exactly as he'd seen it when Garcia had left… A language of jagged edges, with cuttingly sharp tips upon their characters, came to light as he painted them onto the white parchment, vaguely hinting of the mysterious, yet deadly civilization to whom the writing once belonged.
It was then that it happened, slow at first, but then faster… and faster still. A blinding yellow light enveloped the Narcissan symbols, shining in an unnatural brilliance as a glowing aura of magic stretched it like webs across the page, growing larger and larger as they spidered their way from one side of the parchment to the other… Harry shielded his eyes as he watched the spectacle unfold, the seemingly lifelike magic moving with a mind of it's own… Then it lunged, glowing tendrils of energy gripping him from head to toe in an iron bind as his eyes widened in horror, his vision becoming blurred and distorted by the energy as he let out frantic gasps for air, whilst his hands waved about uselessly as the magic constricted around his body.
'ARGH!' he spluttered in vain, the energy coiling around his throat like a vice. He moved awkwardly in an attempt to break free. But he was hindered by the stubborn magic that refused to let him go, before at last, all thought left him and his melded with the unknown magic, taking him far away to the brink of his own conscious mind…
What felt like an age had passed by before Harry opened his eyes tentatively, squinting in pain as he realized he was laying on his side, with his face flat against the floor. Trying to overcome his grogginess, he used his left hand to hazily push himself up, before propping himself exhaustedly against a hard wall. His breath was a wheeze as he fought to catch it, whilst his eyes slowly began to adjust to the light. And then his memory returned…
"Light? What light?!" he thought suddenly, and his vision immediately became clearer as he twisted himself about to peer at his strangely familiar surroundings… He hadn't left the room he was in before he lost consciousness, as he noticed the burnished pedestal off to his immediate right, with the parchment still sitting there as if untouched. But the room was different, it couldn't possibly be the same place. Instead of cold darkness enveloping the room, a blood red light bathed the walls in a hellish ambience, inspiring a hate filled mood inside him as he looked at it. One could possibly believe, that there was an alternate source of light somewhere within the station, that for some strange reason, radiated from seemingly every place possible. Flaming torches that floated in their hundreds above him, burned with a quiet crackling noise as he painfully got to his feet, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
There were flashes in his mind, dark images of the abandoned Irrigan platform before he was suddenly taken by the magical energies radiating from the parchment. The sensation of it was a binding, almost constrictive force, yet it felt all too similar to Port Key travel, in the way it picked him up and transported him. But as he slowly turned his head about, his eyes taking in the station walls around him, he began to question whether he'd gone anywhere at all. Apart from the multitudes of floating candles and the sinister red light reflecting off the metal walls, everything about the scene was exactly as he'd remembered it, save for the strange feeling he was experiencing in his gut. There WAS something different about this place.
It was then his eyes landed on a sight he had only dreamed of, and he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Two dusty books laid on separate pedestals, encased in glass and surrounded by eerie light. The Narcissan books! Voldemort's he was certain! Why they were here on an abandoned station he didn't think to ask within his mind, and without realizing it, he darted forward and smashed the cases, pocketing the two volumes within the deep caverns of his robes… A feeling of relief passed through him even as he came to his senses, his head twisting about to scan the room. At the far end there was a round doorway…
Taking hesitant steps towards the entrance of the spherical room, Harry peered around the corner of the doorway to the long corridors that stretched a sort of "T-intersection" in both directions. Looking left and right, he pondered whether or not he should explore the station further in it's somewhat altered state. Though inside he felt strange in this place, he made up his mind to take a look around, seeing as he might not be here again…
But just as he took his first step into the long corridor, a sudden chill came over him, freezing his breath to ice. The walls about him became slick with rampart frost as an all too familiar feeling came over him, and he jumped backwards quickly, hiding himself in a darkened corner… Two Dementors floated sinuously in the red lighted corridor, slowly gliding past the doorway without any visible effort. Harry kept himself as quiet as he could as he watched them, loathing the Dementor's rattle-like breath as his mother's screams permeated into his mind, threatening to overcome him. Yet he resisted their mind numbing power, even as one of the two halted suddenly, turning it's eyeless face about to sniff the air suspiciously, as though it knew it was being watched from somewhere. It's companion also turned to it as if sensing much the same, before they both seemingly dismissed their suspicion and returned to their eerie glide down the metal corridor.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as tension leaked out of his muscles. That had been a close call. And yet despite this, a knot seemed to form in his chest at the prospect of Dementors being here. HERE! Of all places! Why, he wondered, would Dementors be so far from Earth? Why on this abandoned station? Harry remained still hoping no others were gliding down the hall, before at last, he picked himself up and ran quickly through the corridor in the opposite direction. He felt scared and confused that he would find Dementors so far out into space, yet it seemed a catalyst for something more mysterious, and he briefly pondered what connection Garcia had to this. He felt almost sure the old man did, knowing how connected he was. That bastard!
Running through blood red corridors and moving stealthily about corners, Harry kept his eyes open and his ears pricked for the slightest sound, not forgetting the terrible feeling in his gut that he felt was getting stronger … Thousands of gothic style candles made their fiery presence known as the corridors began to lose the radiance of their light, slowly succumbing to eerie shadows and bad vibes as they twisted and contorted, becoming technical works of anarchy as overhead pipes enclosed around him. He was seriously beginning to wish he wasn't here, feeling some form of envy for Colin who was back on the ship living out an unusual daydream, as the Essence charm slowly began to lose it's effect. But he reluctantly reminded himself why it was that he was here in the first place, and rekindled his duty to find the truth about what Garcia was doing, and whether it had any connection to suspicious events on Earth.
It was just when he thought he couldn't take anymore that he noticed a shadow move up ahead, and recognized it's profile as being Garcia's lean form as he walked slowly to the door of a large room, being flanked by his two Viridian Guard. Sticking himself tightly against the wall, he bore the pain of a pressure gauge poking into his back as he silently watched Garcia residing at the mouth of the room, kneeling in an odd manner.
'I have come in your presence my lord, as you have commanded of me…' he suddenly spoke in a respective tone, taking Harry off guard. A biting sensation began to ripple through his scar …
'Very good… Come before me my servant.' Replied a hissing voice, and Harry suddenly realised what Garcia was all about as horrible memories of that voice began to emerge in his mind. The Viridian was a Deatheater! That had to be it.
Garcia slowly returned to his feet and walked in, his two guards following him in silent pursuit. Harry inched his way slowly along the wall so as not to make a noise, stealthily moving before at last he found himself peaking slightly around the corner of the door, taking in the room. Large glass windows formed the entire far wall, which showed the enormous form of… it couldn't possibly have been… Neptune? Where once there resided a blue planet of violent winds, there was now an enormous red giant of turbulent magma that seethed and boiled in poisonous gases, filling the room with a ghostly aura of red light.
And it was there on a central dais, where there sat a cloaked figure who's face was shrouded by the dark of a voluminous black hood. A veritable aura of evil seemed to surround this being, who resided on an ornate chair of carved gold and silver, whilst clawed hands stretching from beneath the robes, tapped impatiently on the arm rests. Harry knew immediately who it was… It was Voldemort.
Garcia walked towards the Dark Lord before once more dropping to his knees, not taking heed of a golden haired man standing by his master, whom Harry recognized as Lucius Malfoy. A burst of hatred permeated through him, and he had to force down the urge to strike at him.
'So then…' Lucius spoke in an arrogant manner, looking down upon Garcia from his vantage point. 'You received our message. How nice of you to join us… Though you are late, are you not? We haven't the time to deal with those who aren't prompt to obey!'
Voldemort raised a solitary finger, as a haunting hiss reverberated from beneath his hood. Lucius stayed himself, returning to his silent vigil with some reluctance. Garcia spoke.
'I came the moment I received your message my Lord! Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience I may have caused.'
The Dark Lord sat motionless, occasionally flitting a stare out the giant glass windows to the fiery planet beyond, before he finally spoke in his cold, hissing voice.
'Port keys to Limbo can relay minor lapses in time. Your delay is somewhat expected, I fear Lucius dramatizes too much… However, I cannot tolerate lateness, there is much to discuss… I fear, you are becoming irritated as to your role in my plans. Correct?'
Garcia sat there looking surprised at the question, even as his own two guards looked to him and then back to the Dark Lord with mixed emotions.
'My lord?!' he spluttered back hesitantly. Voldemort continued to tap his fingers in a mechanical fashion. Tap… tap… tap…
'There is no point in hiding your feelings from me old man, for I can sense within you that which you hold as sacred. Your very emotions are but playthings to my mind, I can sense your frustration. To what part of our arrangement are you perhaps unhappy with?'
Garcia sat there mutely, his mouth working in contemplation as though trying to formulate an answer.
'Reply quickly to your god, Garcia!' Lucius spoke abruptly, making the white haired man jitter in nervousness.
'I… I…' he began hesitantly, searching for the right words. 'I don't know how much longer my services will be required. My position on Earth is unsafe, tentative at best! There are elements in the World Senate just waiting for their chance to shut me down, as well as whatever activities I am undertaking for you. How much longer will I have to continue this charade? I fear for my safety!'
Voldemort must have been staring at him somehow, for Garcia began to quiver after the last words he spoke, not being sure whether sharing his concern was exactly the right thing to do. Harry watched silently from the darkness of the doorway, keeping himself hidden from view.
'You fear for your safety?!' hissed Voldemort, raising his hood a little to reveal rows of blade like teeth, 'Why fear for your safety Garcia? I have armies prepared for war all over Earth, waiting for signals to start their attack. The order of the phoenix is but a useless covenant trying vainly to find me. Their leader, Albus Dumbledore, is on the brink of death from old age. And lastly, Potter, the thorn in your boot that is one of the world's last Prodigen mages, appears to have left my sight completely! Now… along with your own cover-ups and law breaking, what's not safe?! You overstate the situation, and you know that well. Choose your words more carefully my servant, I know that fear is not your dissatisfaction.'
Garcia stared back shocked, a large bead of sweat rolling ominously down his forehead. He didn't look as though he trusted his own craftiness anymore, Voldemort held him captive with words alone…
'Tell me everything I have done for you has not been in vain. I have tried hard to imagine what possible reason you could have for seeing civilian space vessels destroyed. I have tried hard to understand why it is you have kept me in the dark for so long, and why I cannot be elevated to a more prominent role by your side. And I have tried so very much to discover why it is I risk everything for you without knowing to what purpose my efforts are for…'
Voldemort sat idly as Garcia finished. Beyond the shrouding darkness of his black hood, his blade like teeth grinded together with a menacing sound, making blobs of sticky saliva drip terrifyingly from his mouth. At once he stood up from his throne, making Lucius drop to his knees in respect, before the Dark Lord turned his seemingly eyeless stare upon Garcia.
'Impatience I sense in you old man…' he said in irritation, his voice a subtle hiss as he turned himself about and walked towards the windows, Garcia's stare following him. 'I pulled you towards my cause as you were the one person with resources enough to see my plans through to fruition. And as such, I believed you were capable of discretion so as to benefit me. It appears I may have mistaken my trust however, but since you are so persistent, come and see what your efforts have been worth. Stand by my side underling!'
Garcia promptly obeyed, walking up from behind the black cloaked lord whilst wearing a wheedling expression.
'Lucius, if you will…'
Nodding, Lucius pulled a small device from his robes, which he pushed a button on.
'Now Garcia,' Voldemort spoke in a snake-like tone, gesturing out the large glass windows with a clawed hand, 'Behold what your efforts have provided me with…'
And Harry watched in horror as from seemingly empty space, there was a flash of light, and an enormous ship, larger by far than anything he'd previously seen, emerged from cloak to dwarf the station a hundred fold. Garcia's mouth dropped open in shock, and he absent mindedly took a fearful step back as he took in the leviathan vessel, which looked a terrifying blend of magical technologies stolen from every corner of the globe.
'By the gods!' he spoke in disbelief, receiving a sly grin from Lucius behind him, 'That isn't… I mean, this can't be…'
'Oh yes my old companion, I'm afraid it is…' Voldemort replied, turning his head just enough for Harry to see a yellow eye glowing brightly within his black hood. 'This Garcia, is the first ever construction of a Khorah class battleship, ironically it's the only class of vessel you deemed illegal to build. And now, we can see perfection take physical form.'
'This is what you needed all those parts for isn't it?!' Garcia said in dawning comprehension, 'This is why so many had to die so that only selected ships could pass through the gate! By all that's sane in this universe, how could you build this monstrosity my lord?! I outlawed any manifestation of this ship class for good reason, the very existence of one could…'
'Alter the balance of power in the galaxy?' Voldemort prompted, receiving a terrified glance from Garcia, 'Yes, I know. Twenty years have I seethed over my defeat in the department of mysteries Garcia. Twenty years that I have brooded in hatred over the stifling of my plans by the will of one ungifted teenager! And yet, in that time I have learnt much of myself and thus refined my plans to suit these changed times of ours, so that I would one day set foot in the department of mysteries again and learn of the hidden powers within that threaten to consume even the ancient magic of Essence itself.'
'And you think building this… THING, will help you achieve that?!'
Voldemort moved so suddenly that Garcia barely had time to react, and could only struggle in desperation as a scaly, clawed hand gripped him by the throat and lifted him into the air. Pulling him close, Voldemort spoke to him in a cold whisper.
'Your inability to conceive my visions have been most TAXING to me Garcia, soon enough you will pay for that fault with your life!' and he threw the old man to the floor with a crash, making Harry shiver inside as the floor beneath his feet vibrated nauseously. For a moment Garcia didn't move, before slowly he drew himself up from the floor, coughing up splatters of blood as he turned his frightened gaze out the windows again. The giant warship floated there menacingly, it's many gun emplacements only partly indicative of it's true power.
'Yes Garcia… FEEL it's power! You helped create this. Seven kilometers long, and built of magic infused alloys, it holds a broadside weapons complement of over four thousand Curse launchers, as well as sporting two linked Blight-slinger cannons with a minimum range of two hundred thousand kilometers. It is indeed a weapon to be reckoned with, would you not agree?'
The look spread upon Garcia's face was anything but agreement, but even as he staggered back to his feet, Voldemort watched the battleship float sinuously before him, casting a veritable shadow over the installation.
'How will you do it?' Garcia asked in a more respective tone, quite apparently biting back his fear, 'How could this contraption possibly gain you access to the Department of Mysteries?'
Folding his hands behind his back, Voldemort drew in a rattle-like breath as he looked out the window into the vastness of space.
'London is well protected by energy shields, as you know I'm sure.'
Garcia nodded as Voldemort continued on, refusing to face him.
'However… these archaic shields, which in themselves are merely relic precautions from the last war, are quite easily deactivated should the world senate abdicate itself.' Garcia looked surprised.
'Abdicate itself?' he queried of a sudden, stepping forward, 'You expect every senator to leave London in fear? My lord, though I had anticipated spies of yours infiltrating the senate, I cannot foresee how you could achieve such a feat. It's impossible!'
Voldemort chuckled in amusement, sending a shiver down Harry's spine.
'No… it is not impossible. Merely "improbable" to a mind the likes of yours… My intervention into the affairs of the world senate runs far deeper than you know. ALL the senators save one are agents of mine, or those I hand picked personally for their position. Only the senator of the League of Free People's was a honest politician, yet seeing as you assassinated that troublesome stone in my shoe, it leaves the rest of the senate to be rather… pliable. Cowards they are, ALL OF THEM! The mere mention of an army of dark creatures will be more than sufficient to scare them into leaving the city, and thus lower it's shield protection effective immediately. And then, my mechanical work of art will be put to good use…'
Garcia went pale at the prospect of the battleship being used on people, though somewhere within his mind he felt it was necessary. Nevertheless however, he couldn't foresee anything in this arrangement that could possibly be of benefit to himself. It was almost as if he were brought along merely for the ride.
'My lord?' he asked in confusion, his mouth working, 'I must ask of you, is there anything to this scheme to which I would play a more active role?'
'You mean to become a Deatheater?' Voldemort added in a knowing voice, making him gasp in disbelief. Turning, he bent towards the old man and held his face with razor sharp claws, drawing slivers of blood than ran down his wrinkled face. Garcia groaned in pain as he watched two glowing eyes staring pitifully down at him, whilst struggling to remove the Dark Lord's iron grip.
'IT… IT IS ONLY MY WILL… MY WILL TO SERVE YOU… OH POWERFUL LORD!!!' he shouted back to his emotionless captor, whose teeth filled jaws stretched in a cold smile. At once Voldemort threw him to one side and walked back to his golden throne, before he sat down leisurely with Lucius beside him at bended knee.
'Is that so?' he asked Garcia simply, who stared back past his own blood stained face. 'Then tell me old ruler… what would you have to say about this?!'
And at once a tugging sensation pulled within Garcia's robes, and the ancient Narcissan book suddenly flew out into Voldemort's outstretched hands. The glow beneath his shrouding hood intensified as his eyes widened in sadistic pleasure, whilst a tremor of increased pain stung through Harry's scar. Voldemort laughed as Garcia's own eyes widened in terror, seeing that his only salvation was immediately lost.
'Planning to bargain your way into becoming a Deatheater were you…?!' he half asked, tapping his claws on his chair's handles once more. Tap… tap… tap…
Garcia spluttered in a vain attempt to correct his own error, but found his mouth held shut by some invisible force as the Dark Lord enjoyed the moment. Sticky trickles of saliva dripped hungrily from Voldemort's mouth.
'You needn't provide some fabricated excuse… GARCIA! Ha… I can feel the fear pulsing through your veins as we speak, and the betraying sedition you plan in your mind! You can hide nothing from me, as I have just demonstrated… but just so as you know Garcia, I had originally planned something for you. I had wished you to become the General of my armies, should your faithful and blind servitude to me continue. However, judging by this…' and he held the Narcissan book in full view, 'I'd say not. Your services are well appreciated I assure you, but your loyalty is something that will not suffice, and that brings consequences…'
Drawing himself back, Voldemort pulled in a deep breath as he shouted aloud in a language Harry felt deep recognition of… and felt fear.
'Shovarrna horakhtashaar! Virotakuu janeevade… Smisharak… Darenkhare… come to me my loyal servants!'
For a moment there was a deep lull of silence, before ghostly shrieks sounded, and whispy black shapes emerged from the floor at Voldemort's sides, shedding unnaturally dark shadows across the room as they took form. Garcia looked to them in terror, and swiftly began crawling backwards away from the monstrosities. It was then he hit something sharp, and turned his head up slightly to see Lucius poking his serpent headed wand into the base of his neck, a drawling smile spread across his evil face.
'Behold Garcia… "Viridian King"!' Voldemort said aloud, his hands raised to accommodate his shadowy companions, 'These are your replacements as of now, my own personal blend of Essence and Dementor DNA. They are the perfect servants, loyal and unquestioning, and most of all, more deadly than any creature who treads foot in MY armies!'
Harry drew himself back into the shadows, knowing the inevitability of what was about to happen. There was nothing he could do against such impossible odds, and he quickly ran back down the hallway towards the parchment, which he was sure was a port-key. Perhaps once he was back in the material universe, he might try to use Garcia's ship to get home. Afterall, the Viridian would no longer be needing it.
Meanwhile, Garcia gritted his teeth as the hybrid Dementors approached him, floating through the air like accustomed killers, and already he could feel his own blood beginning to curdle and freeze within his veins.
'Yes old man,' Lucius whispered into Garcia's ear, as the horrible apparitions closed in on their prey, 'This is the end. No loss really, our master was never going to make such a gullible worm as yourself into a Deatheater anyway. That's the way things work I'm afraid… so now you must die. I've no doubt these… "things" will want to bleed your corpse dry of every last drop of blood. Best not keep them waiting…'
Lucius pulled back his wand behind his head to yell the killing curse, his mouth beginning the incantation.
'AVADA KE…' But just as suddenly Garcia rose from his crouched position with his right arm spinning about in a wide arc, as a long, cruel blade swiftly extended from beneath his robes, which he plunged viciously into Lucius's exposed throat.
Lucius's eyes rolled into his head as he staggered and fell to the floor clutching his ruined neck, blood spurting in different directions as his assassin turned swiftly once more with his wand appearing unexpectedly from his other sleeve, letting off a Reductive curse at the nearest hybrid Dementor. The black creature spin itself inside out like a whispy sheet of silk as the curse hit it, absorbing the energy whilst letting out a deafening shriek that pierced Garcia's ear drums like a needle.
'KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!!!' Voldemort howled to his underlings as he rose from his chair, teeth bared in a horrific display of hatred and fury as he raised his own hand in preparation to do the deed himself. Garcia ran backwards over Lucius's dead body, pulling from around his own neck the symbol of his regal authority; a necklace holding the golden sword wrapped in thorns…
'THIS DOESN'T END HERE DARK ONE!' he shouted back to Voldemort, whose eyes burned with fire, 'I'LL LIVE ON WHEN YOU ARE BUT A DISTANT MEMORY!' and at once he closed his fingers around the necklace, before a sudden nimbus of white light consumed him, a hidden port-key transporting him onto his starship in the material universe.
It was only when he released his hold upon Irrigan platform and flew away, did Voldemort's screams of rage fill it within, pulsing pain through Harry's scar in a way he could never have previously imagined…