Dex Warrior (Libertas Online)

35: Beacon of Hope

Cassie's skin tingled from the cool morning air. Dewdrops shaken loose from the strands of grass collected on her shoes at every step, soaking her socks as she walked from the big white plantation house to the furthest metal-sided barn. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, felt happy at their recent victory, felt dread at the thought of losing a friend, but over it all she was content. No matter what happened, today or in days to come, there would be hope. The Culicidae were not invincible.

Heaving with her legs and shoulder, Cassie slid the rolling metal barn door open just enough to slip inside. Once it was closed behind her and her eyes were adjusted to the dark structure's interior, with little more than timber frames and a hay-strewn floor, she beheld one of their two big prizes. Their reward for their bravery. Their hope manifested in a big flying piece of metal.

The black ship was the only source of light, the power lines between unfolded armor panels casting a slight green. Cassie took it as a sign that flight preparations were already underway and navigated around old wooden beams and headed towards the back. There was barely enough room to get the ship inside the barn, let alone have enough room to work on it, but it needed to be hidden and the building served that purpose well enough.

Loading ramp down, Cassie began her ascent inside and quickly found Bean in the immediate cargo hold. His silver suit came out from behind crates of scrap materials Grier had agreed to give him. Cement mix, metal panels untouched by rust, bolts, a welder, and other tools that might be useful to him wherever he went. There was also a crate with a cube wooden frame and chicken-wire sides, housing two dozen of the angrily clucking birds inside. They would not last him long, but it was what they could spare.

Cassie, Bean said from behind his helmet. How are you, friend?

She shrugged and reached for the clicker at her waist. Okay. I'm going to miss having you around. So will the others. Your help has given them hope. They've idolized you.

Idolized?

They... Treasure you. You are a hero to them.

No. Not a hero. Bean has only shown how to fight.

Well, I think we will have to disagree on that, but I'm proud of you. You could have turned us down and refused to help, but you didn't. Attacking your own people must have put you in a hard place.

Bean shrugged this time. My people are lost. They are smart, making ships and planets to suit them, but they are unwise. They think they are best, and they serve their community, their ever-growing hive, and overlook their wrongs. Humans not food. Not less people than Culicidae, just behind. But, despite their wrong I am proud of them for what they accomplish and their unity. Their sense of community. All Culicidae belong in community.

Except for you, right? Cassie jabbed with a smirk.

Bean chattered a small laugh. Maybe except Bean. But they will find their way. They will find a planet they cannot control and peace will be forced upon them. Maybe humans. You should be proud of humans, not Bean. Especially the ones who are not with you. Your family, and the ones far away.

Yeah, yeah, Cassie said begrudgingly. Dan says the same thing.

Would you like to talk to them?

Cassie tilted her head. Talk to them?

Yes. Send message to humans. You should. Come.

Bean turned away, motioning with his hands for her to follow him. She did with uncertainty, stepping through the ship until they reached the cockpit. The alien seated her on one of the four black seats, rotated her to face the center console, then reached over her and tapped away at a few keys until a mirror image of herself appeared on the screen in front of her.

Cassie looked over her shoulder at him. What should I say?

You decide. This only chance to reach far away humans. Message must be sent outside Earth atmosphere to reach them. Ship not interstellar communicator. I will send it when I leave, so send a message of hope. Earth is for humans, not Culicidae.

A sigh escaped her. I'm going to miss you, Bean. Thanks for everything.

She turned to face the console.