Onidus 2 #3
I learned the hard way, by trying things and crashing…and burning more things than I care to remember.
In my mind, I map the offline starter like a cold void in a sweltering field of hot stars. Wrapping my hand around it, I channel the universe through my hand. The engine sputters and kicks on, igniting the hoverpad thruster. Cautiously releasing my hold, I wait and listen. It keeps running.
My tired body presses against the shuddering metal partition of the prison compartment, and we charge back through the forest toward the Aegeris fleet.
But as we break through the trees, so do the Neb reinforcements.
I set my other hand over my chest and initiate my squad shield. It surrounds the hovercart, just in time.
Nebs fire at my passengers and me. Every hit rattles the sensor in my chest.
“Can I get a pickup and some backup, please?” I call over the earcom as I get up and turn the cart away from the strongest assault. “Queen’s cart is free, but we’re being chased by more security.”
I see our vulnerability a second too late. A Nebulous fighter drifts around in front of us, punching holes in the ground just before an Aegeris ship blasts them out of the sky.
I turn hard, but it isn’t going to be enough. The ship explodes before us as the hovercart careens at an angle into the caving ground. The cart’s mass is not one I’ve tried to control before, but for the queen of an endangered species I try.
I’ve already served and lost one queen.
Debris pelts my body. Taking the abuse, I dig deep and open myself to the universe in a vast way, not the trickle or the cracked door to let in just what I need.
I throw the door wide open, knowing this could tear me apart.
Then I cast the energy into a fiery pulse in front of the cart that rights it again.
But the landing is still going to be hard, and my momentum from the blast is carrying me upward, away from the ship.
I break my shield out of my armor, throw it at the cart, and pray Voian hears my plea to keep the queen safe.
The craft lights up with my shield as it slams to the ground and tips, cutting a path in the dirt. I flail as I fall and try to conjure a blast to slow my descent but don’t get it to manifest before I smash into the ground.
A pounding wave of misery shoots through the shoulder I’ve landed on.
My punctured side rips open. Smoke and dust cloud the air as dirt and rocks rain over me.
My lungs won’t fill with air. I wheeze and fight through the thrumming in my bones to roll onto my back, look up at the smoky sky, and grit my teeth.
My hand won’t respond when I try to brace my wound.
I’ve dislocated my shoulder.
A groan escapes me because I know what I have to do. I grab my bad arm, leverage it away from me, then rotate it quickly and pop it back in.
The queen doesn’t have a federation guard. She’s out there in a busted hovercart, vulnerable.
Get up.
I hold my shoulder as I roll my body onto my stomach and manage to get onto my hands and knees. Sure, the queen has royal guards, but they weren’t enough to keep her out of the prisoncart to begin with. So I’m certain I am on my own until someone else arrives. And more Neb security is on their way.
As I crawl toward them on aching limbs, through the debris trail and burning pieces of wreckage in the dense smoke, I’m certain I’m alone. Ships fire in the distance, blue Neb rounds versus gold Aegeris rounds. They are trying to get to us. But they aren’t going to be fast enough.
A Nebulous squad surges in and skids to a stop beside the cart the queen has climbed out of and now flees.
They’re much closer than I am. They unload as she panics inside her cluster of guards and servants, who barricade her behind them.
They are willing to die, to sacrifice their bodies, their futures, everything to save her.
I’m near the end of my energy. I feel it sparking in vast emptiness. My flesh-and-bone vessel is taxed. A foot screams. My shoulder hangs by a thread. Pressure pounds in my skull. Watery lines blur my vision. My side leaks blood down my armor. But I am not dead. Yet.
My target is now the Nebulous squad that lifts rifles and stalks toward the gathered Roscazkan who shift into armor-plated Derorsin.
I curl my good arm close. My thought commands sputter. My mind is breaking.
I am the only one capable of standing between the innocent and a monster. I have seen species fall apart before. Just let me save one more.
“Voian…” My throat is dry and blood drains from my teeth, aspirated in my lungs from my graceful fall from the sky.
I must speak the words because my mind needs to hear them to focus in my severely damaged state.
“Voian, I call to you for guidance as I ask for the strength of stars to back my soul this night. Luminesce in my hand. Deliver my vengeance so I may protect the innocent and return balance to the universe.”
A fiery orb ignites in my good, left hand, growing brighter than I have ever seen.
Our Vibrance god has heard my call and helped me summon what I need.
The light draws the shadow soldiers’ attention.
I smirk even though, inside, I am broken and ready to meet my ancestors.
A casting of this size will no doubt be my last. But it will be the last one they witness, too.
I draw the raging orb back, linger in the scalding heat on final time, and launch it at them. The flare storms across the charred ground and blooms so brightly that even I have to squint and look away.
Gray sheets blur my vision. Energy leaves me. My shaking body gives out, and I fall forward. I have nothing left. And I don’t care. ION Striker…
“Hear, sir,” my ship says in my earcom.
I’m relieved to hear his voice. Access my iris implant. Show me the hidden file, Personal E-S1.
My right eye illuminates with an image of a woman.
She looks so different than my memory of her.
She’s a beautiful addiction, her image something I tucked away for my last breaths so I could die knowing comfort, remembering her smile and gentle touch, the way she bandaged my arms and snuggled close to me at night to stay warm like I wasn’t a heartless machine made for killing but a simple boy who wanted only to be the protector his father trained him to be.
“Why do you ask to see her?” ION Striker asks.
I study her golden eyes and honey brown hair. Even in her business portrait, the one I’ve captured from Earth’s internet, I see the distance in her gaze. She hasn’t left the past behind.
Neither have I.
I wish I could heal that part of her. But she has her own life now.
At least she’s somewhere safe. Of all the guard positions I’ve had, choosing to protect her lingers with me.
It is one of the few positive impacts I’ve had, more than rescuing and restoring balance.
She has become a good person, saving lives instead of taking them, even if she fronts as an augment surgeon. I always dig deep.
I just wish I could’ve seen her one last time. She’s the only one who ever understood me.
I close my eyes and savor the comfort of the solid ground beneath me. I’ll find you in the afterlife, Solara.