Constellations' Child

40

The hum of approaching Addicted crafts blocks out the patter of rain. We exchange tense glances in silence, crouched behind a patch of dense bushes, as we wait for Graham to take off. Small gaps in the trees provide momentary glimpses of the enemy; from what I can tell, at least five or six Addicted crafts are patrolling.

Crater motions for us all to move closer. "Before we head out there, we have to get one thing straight," he says, looking more serious than usual. "If anyone gets hit, the others have to just keep running."

"What?" I instinctively fire back. "I'm not leaving any—"

"He's right," Carina says. "There's nothing any of us could do if someone takes a round of dark energy."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. "You expect me to just leave and—"

"Edwin." Vela's voice is firm but kind. "They're right. We've seen what happens when someone's hit; they're gone. Addicted. And there's nothing you or any of us can do about it. You, Edwin — especially you — have to keep running, no matter what happens. You're the only one that truly matters here. You need to make it."

I look at Vela. Drops of water run down her face like rivers, none of them tears. I want to tell her that, to me, she matters more than anything. That if I make it without her, I might as well inject myself with dark energy. But I know she's right. They're all right, and they're here because of me. If I don't make it, what's the point of their effort? I nod, accepting the absurd reality and praying it doesn't come to that.

Then, we hear it. The hum of another Addicted craft, but closer and lower to the ground than the others that have been flying by in the clearing. Within seconds, the craft piloted by Graham darts across the sky above us, inches from the treetops.

"Let him get out there a bit," Carina says, charging her weapon. "When we hear him starting to take fire, we run."

The sound of Graham's craft fades and blends with the other patrols in the area. Several moments pass with the situation seemingly unchanged.

"You think something's wrong?" Pavo asks.

"He's probably drawing them as far away from our position as he can before making his move," I reply. I can tell he's scared. "It's going to be fine, Pavo," I add, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Just stay next to me and we'll—"

A cacophony of intense shots break out. Without thinking, we're all on our feet and moving. In seconds, we cross the threshold from the blanket of the dense forest into the clearing and open daylight. No enemy fighters seem to be in our direct path, but an immediate feeling of vulnerability takes hold.

Initially focused only on the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing, the fireball of an exploding Addicted craft forces me to glance briefly at the firefight taking place. Whatever Graham is doing, it appears to be working. Five or six enemy craft are frantically chasing him, firing wildly. They have no idea they're facing an AI, but there's only so long before reinforcements arrive, making it a numbers game that will render Graham's abilities mute.

Despite running as fast as possible, the other side of the clearing feels like it's a lifetime away. Like a bad dream where you try to run but your legs just don't work. Still, we keep moving, all of us running in a tight pack. We hadn't planned that out, but being totally exposed in broad daylight instinctively make us stay close.

Finally, the trees on the other side begin grow larger. We must be a bit over half way there, and that's when I hear them. Addicted reinforcements. Glancing again down range for a moment, I can see them approaching. I can't make it out for sure, but it looks like a dozen Addicted craft approaching the dogfight that's covering our advance.

I yell to the others, but my words are returned only with looks of confusion due to the cacophony of battle. I point to the oncoming crafts. Looks of concern as heads nod in understanding. Most of the reinforcements join the fight, but two of them fly right past it.

They see us.

As I attempt to cry out to the others, the ground in front us explodes fifty feet into the air. They intended it as a warning shot, but we keep running without thinking twice. What choice do we have? Another explosion rocks the ground, sending dirt into our faces. Pavo falls, but we're able to get him back up quickly and continue.

One of the crafts positions itself between us and the tree line. It begins to hover, and a disturbing scene begins to play out. Black ropes pour out of its sides. Within seconds, a dozen Addicted fighters are sliding down them. Every inch they get closer to the ground feels like it's sealing our fate. How can we get this close only to run directly into the enemy's hands.

We stop, and Carina takes aim a the craft, firing at the beast with a weapon that has no chance of doing any damage. I'm about to tell her that it's no use, when two deafening shots from an approaching craft ring out. I don't know what I notice first. The Addicted fighters, still a good seventy-five feet in the air, falling off their ropes, or their craft exploding.

Graham soars by us and banks hard to the right, trying to turn around before the other crafts get to our location. As he turns, I have a clear view of the empty cockpit just before the Addicted craft that brought us here, along with Graham, are destroyed by a hail of fire. He's given us a fighting chance.

"Come on!" I cry out. We move, but three Addicted craft soon take the place of the one which Graham shot down.

"What are we going to do?" Pavo yells in panic.

"What else can we do?" Carina replies. "Grab a weapon," she adds with a head nod toward the downed Addicted fighters who fell moments ago.

"Good call," Crater yells.

Vela and I look at each other. Our pledge to the EDP. Those are dark energy weapons. We can't, but what choice do we have? The others already have their weapons raised and locked on the crafts. We both nod to each other. If we're going to die here on this field, at least we'll go down with a fight.

Carina yells and fires a shot that sparks against the nose of the lead craft.

We're both about to pick up a weapon when the enemy crafts suddenly bolt in the other direction, toward where they'd been battling Graham. In shock, we look at each other in the relative silence left in their wake.

Crater laughs. "Nice shot."

"What the hell just happened?" I ask, watching our would-be captors, or killers, fly away.

Squinting into a rising sun, I can make out explosions in the far distance, just above the tree line on the side we came from. Dozens of them in rapid succession, and the sound of guns - hundreds of them.

Carina laughs and sighs with relief. "It's the Alliance! They've started their assault."

I look to the tree line we've been trying to reach. Unbelievably, it's only about two hundred feet away. "Let's go, while we can."

Just as we begin to move, something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. The shot rings out before I can turn. The weapon of an Addicted fighter who apparently survived the fall is still pointed directly at us, but Carina fires back and he flops on his back.

"No!" Vela calls out.

As though it was happening in slow motion, I turn and see him on the ground, dark energy already making its way through is body.

Pavo.