by Aer-ki Jyr
“You are badly injured. Do not move quickly.”
“Status?” the Scionate asked after a few seconds.
“The Dumbo is destroyed and we are taking cover beside its corpse while we await extraction,” Puar answered as Keel’vo left them to join the fight at the entrance that was now piling up with minion corpses.
“What did you do?”
“Used my Essence to partially heal you,” Puar said, trying to keep from passing out. “I could not fully do so.”
“Thank you,” the Scionate said, gingerly standing on his feet and stepping on the armor segments that flew up onto his legs and attached to their mounts automatically, though he was missing a large section over the top of his injured leg. “Are you injured?”
“I am depleted,” Puar said, sitting on his hind legs as he tried to shore himself up, then a flashing alert in his helmet finally drew his attention. A large flashing green circle was superimposed on the ground to his left, which he was only able to see when he slowly turned his head, but even that movement caused him to stumble as he lost balance. Inside the circle was the icon for extraction, and the alert was a pull out order.
A couple more minutes of carnage at the entrance of the triangle bought them enough time for a dropship with skeet escort to fly over top of them and land inside the gap with the fighters staying up top and shooting constantly at stuff Puar couldn’t see. He dragged himself to his feet and wobbily walked to the descending ramp as Jumma came over and telekinetically lifted him off his feet and pushed him inside.
Puar slumped down on the deck as the rest of them climbed onboard, counting on the battlemap to see that everyone had made it. No one left behind and the target destroyed, assuming the dropship didn’t get shot down. He could hear impacts on the shields increasing in frequency, then they began to lift off even as the ramp was not fully retracted. He saw thousands of minions had poured through into the triangle, and while he had most of his own Essence left, he had no appetite to fight them.
He put his chin down on the ground and rested, waiting for his body to adjust to the lack of material he had pulled out to help the Scionate…then a pack of ration bars thumped down on the deck in front of him.
“Eat,” one of the Scionate said, though not the wounded one. They all had names, but he hadn’t bothered to learn any of them. “Recover your strength.”
Puar popped off his goo-covered helmet and immediately regretted it. The smell was horrid.
He telekinetically grabbed and peeled one of the ration bars, then stuffed it into his mouth whole before putting his helmet back on.
“We’re heading back to…orbit,” Keel’vo told him as a particularly nasty hit shook the dropship. “We will recharge our jewels there and be deployed again if needed. I assume you will not be able to?”
“If I had known we were going to be pulled out so soon I would not have done it,” Puar admitted after swallowing the last bit of the chewed up bar.
“Can the Regenerators replenish you with supplies?”
“I believe so.”
“Do not come with us until you are at full strength. It will weaken the group.”
“How many more Ultra minions are there?” he asked, not bothering to check the battlemap as he could barely keep his eyes open as his body begged for sleep.
“Several hundred, but not all are close to the cities. Some are weeks away. They cannot drop them off closer or the navy shoots them down. You will have a chance for more carnage later,” Keel’vo said with a touch of hilarity.
“Are you satiated?”
“I have found my calling. You?”
“I need to sleep.”
“Go ahead. I will carry you off the ship if needed. Even if you have the extra Essence, using it takes a toll. And you used far more than us. Rest,” the biped said, placing a mostly clean armored hand onto his goo slopped helmet. “Rest.”
Puar didn’t argue, giving in to his heavy eyelids and quickly losing consciousness…
When he awoke he was back onboard the Lantern ship, but two full days had passed. Medtech staff were around him and gave him a detailed explanation of how much damage he’d done to himself that had to heal up. Most of which had to do with his Essence use. The Vargemma had no experience using the amount he just had, but Star Force did and what he’d done was considered an ‘overdose.’
It was rare, but when someone used the full amount of a jewel while never having expended anywhere near that amount, their connection to their own Essence became strained and the need to rebalance resulted in a near coma. They asked about his Essence practice beforehand, and he had reluctantly admitted he had not done much because he didn’t want to waste the Essence. That was the Vargemma in him talking, and he knew it had been a mistake, for previously he just couldn’t fathom using so much for training alone.
He was ordered off duty and into supplemental training, for his Essence was still having trouble adjusting. It was locking down harder than normal, meaning it was more difficult to elicit an ‘Essence rush.’ If he forced his way through it then he might encounter other problems, so their Archon put him on a regimented Essence drill set that he was to follow precisely.
Feeling like a failure, Puar did as told this time as his fellow Varkemma made trip after trip down to the surface and returned with mostly victories. Some missions had to be abandoned before they would lose personnel, but one Varkemma named Tu’shu had died when a city was breached and he stayed behind trying to cover for last minute evacuations rather than retreat when prudent. It was said he didn’t want to leave any of the locals behind, and because he held to that he got himself killed by taking on too much.
People were dying all over the planet, and while they weren’t going to leave any Star Force personnel behind, they had to choose when and where to intervene with the locals or they’d end up getting themselves killed…and if they did that, who was to rescue those who needed it tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the next? Die here and you fail all future missions. Tu’shu had lost sight of that, as Puar had lost sight of the purpose of his training on the way out here. Both had made mistakes and paid for them, but Puar had lived through his.
He realized all the Varkemma were young, despite their age, in this war and were making rookie mistakes alongside veteran troops. But they were being sent here because they had powers that the others did not, and the risk was worth it to accomplish these missions. Star Force had not sent him in over his head, and he and Tu’shu had only died because they didn’t stick close enough to the empire’s lead.
Puar knew there was never any certainty in battle, but he also knew that war was unforgiving for rookies…and he was a rookie. No Vargemma had ever fought in a true war beyond the Caretakers, and he was very grateful that Star Force was keeping most of them alive through their rookie mistakes.
Nothing could be done for Tu’shu, but Puar was going to remember him. He had gotten to know him on the journey out here and he did not fault his aggressiveness to protect others, but when you fought a losing battle you had to focus on smaller objectives.
Puar did not insist that he be included on future missions. He waited until he was told he was ready, then he joined another quartet going down to the surface to help protect more evacuees as the portion of the planet under nominal Star Force control continued to shrink by the day.
Before, in the Temple, he had wanted to come here and kill as many Hadarak as he could. Now he felt like an entirely different Trigorma. He wanted to be here, but not to kill Hadarak. He wanted to do the work Star Force was doing…and that was saving lives. Killing the Hadarak was just a delaying mechanism and not the objective.
If the day ever came when they went on the offensive he would join those forces willingly, but only because it was a means to an end. And that end was protecting people, protecting the galaxy…not racking up a kill count.
When Puar boarded his second dropship to the surface he was no less eager, but he was more focused and now experienced, even if only
having one mission completed. This was the hard work that Star Force did so that others could live, and so that others could live without ever knowing the horrors of the Hadarak. He did not want to be one that was shielded, he wanted to be doing the shielding and earning his keep, but he now understood one lesson that had been taught to him before.
Endurance was power here, not raw strength. Raw strength would die after several rounds of fighting. He and the others had to be survivors in order to save others, for there was no end to the Hadarak. More would always keep coming, so the objective wasn’t killing them all. It was surviving them. It was spiting them by denying them their targets. Every life saved was a defeat for the Hadarak, and Puar was now focused on racking up defeats.
And he wasn’t the only one, though no more Lantern ships came to System 3992007. They were all that they had, but more and more were coming out of the Temples and heading to systems that had no Essence support, and many more would be coming in the future. Cal-com was going to continue to provide a steady stream of those that were worthy to help Star Force in this never ending war.
And Puar was honored to be one of them.
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