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The swan ship hurtled toward one of the larger orc ships, a patchwork scorpion equipped with pincers that looked a couple of sizes too large for its hull. The moment the swan ship was within range, Quon fired the fore ballista. The giant bolt shot forward, tearing through the insect ship's left shoulder and into the claw machinery. The left claw drooped, useless, to the ship's gravity plane, and the weight of it tipped the ship dangerously to one side. orcs on the upper deck tumbled overboard.

Before the surviving orcs could react, Teldin abruptly pivoted the ship in a tight, fast circle, bringing its tail catapult to bear on another scorpion. Chirp and Trivit immediately sent a load of Om's spiked bolas hurtling toward the ship. The scorpion took only minor damage, but the dracons had no time for a second shot. The swan ship already was hurtling out of weapon range.

A familiar, whistling whine began approaching the swan ship, and in response the door to the captain's cabin flew open. Pale and far too thin from his long, drug-induced sleep, Hectate made his way unsteadily to the rail where the battle wizards gathered.

"The bionoid ships have a weakness," he said, speaking quickly in a race against the invisible, approaching shrike ship. "They've replaced the forecastle ballista with a magical crystal eye-can't explain that right now. A direct hit should make a magical backlash big enough to destroy the ship."

"How can we aim at something we can't see?" one of the wizards demanded.

"They'll hover over the deck so the bionoids can drop-"

"And the cloaking device might shut down when a ship comes to a halt," Vallus broke in. He eyed the half-elf with new respect, and his expression did not falter when Hectate abruptly transformed into his monstrous insect form.

The shrike ships whistled by, then began their circling approach, slowing as they prepared to drop the deadly warriors. Vallus looked inquiringly up into the bionoid's large frontal eyes, and Hectate nodded his insect head. The dorsal plates on the bionoid's armored chest folded back, and the membrane beneath began to glow with magical red light. At the same time, the wizards began the complicated gestures that summoned fireball spells.

When the first shrike ship came into view, a bolt of energy burst from Hectate's chest. The ball of red light scorched along the shrike ship's long, pointed beak and hit squarely between its domed forecastle windows. The red glow spread over the entire shrike ship, enveloping it in a crackling field of energy and holding it quivering in its grip. The elves braced for the explosion, but the shrike ship burned far too rapidly for that. To their astonishment, the ship blackened and collapsed into a cloud of fine ash. The destruction of the shrike ship took place so quickly that the other bionoid ships had no time to react. When the second and third shrike ships came into view, the elven wizards released a barrage of fireball spells. Some flew harmlessly off to fizzle in the blackness of wildspace, but one managed to hit its mark. A second ship disappeared into smoke and ash, which drifted with the ship's momentum to cover the deck of the swan ship and the unconscious form of a reluctant, half-elven hero.

"Return Hectate Kir to the captain's cabin," Vallus ordered. "He'll need a day's rest." Two of the wizards immediately stooped to do his bidding against a whirling backdrop of stars. The swan ship was making another rapid retreat. This time, however, the third and final shrike ship darted after it in furious pursuit.

The bionoid ship did not risk coming to a hover. Barely slowing its flight, it dipped low over the swan ship. Enormous weapons dropped from it and clattered to the deck, and several bionoid warriors leaped out after them. Five of the monstrous insects managed to land, tucking at the last moment and rolling to their feet with fluid, athletic grace. The sixth was less fortunate: it missed the ship entirely. Flailing its spiked arms, it floated outward toward wildspace and death. The surviving bionoids snatched up their halberds and formed a battle circle.

"Trial by champion."

Hectate Kir's hoarse whisper echoed in the unearthly silence. He gently pulled away from the elven wizards who supported him and made his way slowly over to the invaders.

"You know our battle codes?" one of them asked Hectate in feminine, incredulous tones.

"Name your champion," the half-elf replied, his voice a little stronger this time.

"I am Ronia, captain and ranking officer of Clan Kir," the female replied. Her huge black head dipped slowly as her multifaceted eyes looked Hectate over. "But I cannot accept an honor challenge from such as you. You're a half-elf."

"As are you," Hectate said softly.

There was a hiss of anger from the bionoid warrior. She spun her halberd in a quick circle, signifying her readiness for battle, and the wicked blades at each end of the staff caught and tossed back the starlight in a gleaming arc.

"Weapons?" she snapped.

"Halberds," Hectate replied, holding out a hand to another bionoid. The creature slapped the enormous weapon into Hectate's palm, and the half-elf staggered a bit under its weight. He quickly rested the tip of one blade on the ground and balanced the thick staff with both hands.

"Terms?" Ronia's voice was inexorable.

"Victory by survival."

She let out a bark of laughter. "Of course. Conditions?"

"If I am slain, you avenge the deaths of Soona, Wynlar, Tekura, Enester, and Zeddop. If you die, the rest of the battle clan will withdraw with honor, leaving the swan ship and its crew unharmed."

"Agreed. You know much of our customs," she said with suspicion.

"I should. My name is Hectate, formerly of Clan Kir."

The bionoid woman recoiled with another hiss of rage, and she leveled her halberd's blade at Hectate's throat. "Change quickly, then, or I'll spit you like a skinned hare," Ronia gritted out. She charged forward, blade leading.

Hectate leaped aside and spun. As he did, the Change came over him and in a blink he was a ten-foot-tall insect, the mirror image of his attacker. As he whirled, he hooked one of his curved forearm blades over Ronia's halberd staff. He quickly bent forward at the waist, using the momentum of the female's attack to throw her up and over him. She flipped and landed on her back with a dull clatter.

Instantly Hectate leaped at the fallen bionoid, his halberd held before him. Ronia brought her knees to her chest and kicked out high and hard. Her foot spikes raked down Hectate's plate-armored chest with a sound like fingernails on a windowpane. Hectate staggered back, ichor dripping from the large dorsal plates on his chest; the plates had not yet sealed after opening for his ball of force spell.

Leaping nimbly to her feet, Ronia pressed her advantage. In a lightning-quick combination, she raised her left knee high and snapped a kick at Hectate's crystal eye, hit it again with a side kick from her right foot, and whirled to strike a third time with her left. She danced back, both hands holding the halberd before her in a horizontal line. An enraged oath escaped the bionoid warrior when she saw that Hectate still stood. The glow from his central eye had dimmed, but the crystal was not shattered.

Hectate mirrored her stance and the guard position of the halberd staff. A quick spring brought him toe-to-toe with Ronia. Thick oaken staffs clashed again and again as the two bionoids sparred viciously, each trying to work an opening for a halberd's blades. For many moments the battle went on. The monsters were so evenly matched that it seemed that only exhaustion could claim one of them.

Then Ronia spun, taking a sharp blow to her back but kicking backward hard. Her spiked foot smashed into Hectate's knee, and he went down with a sharp cry of pain and the crunch of cracked plate and bone. With a triumphant yell, Ronia raised her halberd high overhead and chopped down. Hectate rolled aside, and the blade bit deeply into the wood of the deck where his head had just been. Before Ronia could tug her weapon free, Hectate hoisted himself up on one elbow and smashed the back of her knee with a mailed fist. The joint buckled, and she went down.