He was drifting now, his violet eyes fading. He chuckled. How often did this happen, him being near death? It had been so many times that they could’ve had a full-on conversation, and yet, that was why it was so laughable; what had gotten him in this mess in the first place?
The gases closed around him, and a soft breeze blew in his face. A breeze? Was he hallucinating now?
But… it was so warm.
As Simon gazed outward at the grassy plains that he found himself lying on, a hand reached out to him. Instinctively, he reached for it, but stopped, the dream fading before him.
It was useless to think that he could escape by other means.
Reality had taken hold, its claws clutching at his freezing body. His skin was beginning to be tinged black: there were blotches on his arms, hands, and feet. Even as he tightened his grip around his knees, he couldn’t keep warm. His breath was no longer heating him.
And to make it worse, the lights were on their last legs. They were blinking on and off continuously. On… and off. On… and off.
Finally, they too failed, leaving him in total darkness. He heard a distant buzzing sound that was probably another alert. Then it started to ring in his ears as well. It was all he could hear. He tried to shift toward it. He felt nothing when his hands and knees touched the frigid metal surface. His limbs were frostbitten.
Listen!
He stopped. The hand reached out to him for a second time, and in that moment, he saw it: a breathtakingly beautiful field. It stretched out miles and miles beyond the horizon. Countless flowers bloomed, and a breeze whipped up the grass and petals, lifting them high into the air.
As the petals floated down back to the earth, one landed in his hand, glowing as it touched his palm. Gently, he lifted it back into the sky.
A mosaic covered the heavens.
Listen….
Simon awoke, his eyes fluttering open. He groaned. His head felt as if it would split open. Warily, he scanned the room as the headache dulled to a throbbing, allowing him more room for thought. When the pain faded altogether, he stopped and listened.
The buzzing was gone.
The lights flickered eerily. The ship’s systems were back online. Nothing was leaking. He looked down at his body in astonishment, inspecting it more closely. He was no longer frostbitten.
As he finally got up from the metal surface, he smiled. The heat had come back on as well.
It was time to head home.
His vision shifted. It was as though he was seeing through a kaleidoscope; fragments caught in the riptide of reality. Through this scattered viewpoint, he saw himself huddling for warmth, the ship still powerless. But here, he was walking.
Simon reached out.
Soon—
He fainted once more.
What woke him was a rumble that spread throughout the ship like wildfire. He jolted up, a throbbing pain coursing through him. His limbs were pale once more. He sighed with relief; he was back.
Although…
Where was he this time?
Out in the vastness of space, only the light of a new dark blue star was visible. It was an impressive sight to behold. Beyond, there was only the void.
As it turned out, most of the systems, including life-support, had rebooted. Usually it took hours for it to repair, but this time….
Simon shook his head and stood, leaning heavily on the hull.
Well, at least I’m not out there.
He walked to the center console and saw it, too, was operational. Something dripped onto the various blinking buttons. He followed the semi-liquid trail upward, and saw the pipes were still jutting out from the ceiling. It seemed that when the ship warmed to room temperature, so did the contents. He grabbed a handful of the substance and felt it with his fingers. It felt like some sort of gel, and it was odorless.
What was this stuff? It certainly wasn’t the fuel, that was stored farther back, and not in pipes. A coolant? Maybe.
Setting the gel-like substance down, Simon looked out at the star, now nearly blinding to see. An image of a similar star flashed through his mind. It was somehow familiar to him. Had he been in this system before?
No… he couldn’t have.
He felt underneath the console until he found another button, and he pressed it. A hologram shimmered before him. A variety of maps popped up, and he surfed through them.
Around five minutes passed before he closed the projection. There wasn’t anything substantial on the maps; this particular system wasn’t even mentioned, which puzzled him. Was this an uncharted area, perhaps?
He decided to see what else he could learn—
A second proximity alarm wailed.
A fleet emerged from the black. Ten, twenty, thirty ships in formation, and all of them looked menacing, even from afar. Simon couldn’t believe his eyes—were those the same ships he had run afoul of earlier? And how did they come to be here in the first place? His fingers flew on the keyboard, trying find an answer to his questions.
When he stepped back to analyze his results, his jaw dropped.
The Alliance was here.
How…? Simon was taken aback. Was this some sort of coincidence, or a fluke? No one would go that far for a fugitive. He tried to convince himself of that. He stood still and kept his hands away from the controls. Even though his instincts told him to run, he couldn’t. Not now. Not when he needed to see what they were doing here.
After all, this was uncharted space.
The ships crawled past, seemingly unaware of him. Their jet blue trails streamed past the gargantuan star. To him, the fleet looked like toys, but if he got near enough, even the smallest ship would dwarf him.
But something didn’t feel right. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but his stomach was tied in knots. His mind swam, and a voice kept whispering in his ear.
Go.
Perhaps he had finally lost it, but still…
What else could he do?
He tapped the far-right corner of the control board, igniting the thrusters. The ship locked on to the fleet’s coordinates and made a sharp turn starboard. The craft accelerated, chasing after the arrivals.
Out of all the possible outcomes of this impromptu decision, a sudden dust storm popping up out in the middle of nowhere was one of the most unexpected. Minerals came out of nowhere, once again crashing into the damaged ship. A sheet of dust obscured his vision beyond the screen. The star’s light reflected on the particles.
The last remaining sand cleared and Simon found himself staring at the one place he had only dreamed of revisiting.
Arcadia. It was a beautiful sight.
Chapter XXI
A Distant Memory
Contrary to popular belief, the last assignment was uneventful for its duration. The fleet had arrived on schedule, warping into an area not found on any maps. Officially, it was called “Quadrant 325-4.32.” Of course, everything had an unofficial name, and that was usually something like The Pit, but this was unfamiliar territory.
So, the engineers called it Blue for the system’s star. Before Cynthia passed the glass that connected the bridge and hangar, she couldn’t comprehend why they’d named it that until she stopped. The star’s luminosity was blinding, to say the least, but there was something else, something….
Her pocket pinged, and she pulled the comm out to read it. She smiled; the fleet was nearly there.
When she stepped onto the bridge, the ship was rocking furiously from side to side. The captain and the entire crew held on for dear life even though they were already firmly strapped in.
“Nelson, I told you to take her in slowly!” He waved at the viewscreen. “What’s this all about?”
“S-sorry, Captain. It just showed up.” The navigator turned and spotted Cynthia, and stopped.
The captain turned his attention to her as well.
“Wood, what’re you doing here?”
“Sir—”
“Get back to the hangar!” he yelled as anoth
er barrage came through.
Cynthia held her ground.
“Coulson’s calling for you.”
He stopped and listened. “What is it now?”
“He specifically said, ‘Get Maxwell down here or I’ll have your head. If he doesn’t, I’ll have his head.’”
He gritted his teeth. “All right. Hollins, take the chair! I’ll deal with this myself.”
Hollins looked up from his post. “Sir…?”
“Step to it!”
The man nodded, stepping down and settling into position.
The door closed behind them, and they were off.
“Why do I always have to listen to that man?” Maxwell grumbled under his breath. They were walking in front of the windows again, their reflections bouncing every which way off the walls. She’d only been assigned for five days, and each of those days this man had been called down. The first time she thought it was a fluke—it turned out the engine was ready to burst. Since then, she’d been the middleman on these calls. And for no particular reason, apparently.
And yet, this little business was already running her ragged. Having to run down these halls, bursting onto the bridge out of breath, and hastily coughing up enough words to just explain the problem before the man named Maxwell finally listened, and the constant bickering once they arrived was already enough. By the third round, she was an expert on these problems.
How often did these ships really break anyway? It felt like things were breaking just out of spite toward the mechanics.
“We’re here,” Cynthia said. The man was fidgeting with a loose piece of cloth under his jacket.
He looked at her with anxious eyes. Who knew what would be wrong in there? “I know that.”
The door slid open, and they entered the hangar.
“You took your sweet time! We’ve could’ve been sucked out by now thanks to your laziness!” the mechanic yelled at her. Cynthia stared him down until he turned his attention to Maxwell, pointing to the main hatch while he spoke. “Thing’s been sparkin’ all day.”
The captain seemed hesitant as he peered over Coulson’s shoulder at the hatch. White-hot sparks were indeed pouring out of it. The mechanic pulled him a few steps away, whispering, “Come on, come on. You don’t want to disappoint your crew now, do you?”
Maxwell nodded, yielding to the insanity while the older man yanked him over towards the hatch.
It seemed on every ship there was a madman.
As Cynthia turned to leave, she spotted a humongous silhouette underneath a cover, and she smiled.
“Hello, old friend,” she said to it. Genesis was along for the ride, accompanied by many other Rangers. Why, she couldn’t say, because according to Rayleigh’s documents, this was just scouting.
Scouting for what?
“Hey!” She turned. One of the mechanics was waving her over. She sighed. Another request?
“Yes, what do you need?” she asked as she walked over.
“Do you know what day it is? I’m not really that great with time….” The mechanic twirled her hair, embarrassed. Truth be told, Cynthia didn’t know much about the time on this ship either. Though….
She brought up the time from her comm, and relayed it.
“Oh. Almost time, isn’t it?”
“Time?”
“For the landing.” She smiled.
Oh. Yeah. It was almost time. She turned to toward her mech—
The captain cried out, causing everyone to look.
“What’s wrong?” Cynthia called to him.
“Crows.”
Cynthia stopped in her tracks. For a moment, everything was quiet, and everyone was wondering the same thing: How did they find us?
A second later, a blast hit them, knocking everyone off their feet. She fell to the floor, hastily scrambling back up. Before she knew it, the battle alarms clamored through the hangar, alerting the entire crew.
Maxwell was composing himself from a similar fall, though as he ordered everyone to sortie, his words fell on deaf ears. A shockwave ripped through the hull, causing more chaos than it should have. Pilot and mechanic alike came screaming down the halls, one servicing the machines while the other hopped in and launched before the bystanders even knew what had hit them.
“Hello?” Someone tapped Cynthia on the shoulder, snapping her out of her daze. It was a woman, most likely someone from high up, even though she dressed like a civilian. “What’s going on?” The woman shouted over the alarms.
Attack, was all she could say before another salvo hit, rattling several launching Rangers, nearly creating a mass chain of explosions in the process. When it passed, the mechs continued to launch.
By the time she returned to the woman’s question, she was already running toward the door, her only visible feature in the dim hangar a splotch of bright blonde hair.
Who…?
There wasn’t any time to worry, for the last robots had already shipped out. The only one left was her, but as she ran to Genesis, she stalled. Her feet were slipping from the surface, as if in zero-gravity. Had the artificial gravity been turned off? If that was the case, then….
Cynthia looked up and jumped.
Genesis was powered up, but it was beginning to float aimlessly around because of the loss of gravity. She grimaced. How would it even fly? It barely had enough fuel! What were the mechanics thinking?
She was getting ahead of herself. Cynthia slowed her breathing, trying to calm herself. Then she established a temporary correction course. Slowly, the mech slid back onto the pad, and she fired up the engines.
They puttered piteously.
Come on!
She tried a second time, and a third. More puttering. The weightlessness was starting to affect the fuel. The course wouldn’t hold for much longer.
Hurry!
She powered them on again, and finding success, she cheered as the flames roared—
And an explosion shredded the hangar to bits the instant the flames lit.
The blast sent her flying. The mech spun through the vastness of space, unable to move an inch. That alone made her head spin with nausea. Various alarms echoed through the cockpit, adding to the headache. With her hands still attached to the steering mechanism, there wasn’t much she could do.
With luck, she would make it out alive.
Cynthia prepared for impact when she saw the first rocks appear. The meteors rammed into her with tremendous force. The barrage jostled the mech violently. More rocks shattered limbs and the torso. Soon, they were floating limply alongside her, useless.
Only the cockpit remained intact. On the fifth round of bombardment, the magenta lighting wavered and dimmed. It signaled loss of twenty five percent of power, and then fifty. By the time she was sent careening into a massive asteroid, eighty percent. The electronics ceased their functions. Magenta deepened into black, and she felt a sudden chill. Heat had powered down.
Genesis crashed into an enormous rock, suffering enough damage to dislocate the head and disconnect all power flow to the body. The torso ricocheted off the surface while detritus showered outward from the crater. Meanwhile, the head emitted a soft blue glow, just like the star.
Inside, it was a different story altogether.
“H-hello…?” Cynthia began, “Anyone there?” She waited. The steering had released her, as conserving energy was a priority, so she was briskly rubbing her hands together in the dark. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, but as it grew colder and colder, the viewscreens frosted over.
Huh, she thought, goosebumps forming on her skin. So this is it? This is how my life really ends?
A flash of light blinded the screen for a second.
Cynthia blinked and shielded her eyes from the white.
What she saw next was beyond confusing. At first, she didn’t believe it. Even though she heard what Rayleigh had said, somehow, deep down, she hadn’t believed it, had she? She thought that that was probably his way of getting inside her head. In fact, ever since
Simon’s escape….
She waved the thought away as the cockpit exited the ring, but then caught her breath.
No.
It couldn’t be.
It wasn’t possible.
It… shouldn’t have been.
Rayleigh… you were….
Tears fell down her cheeks as she caught sight of the marble that she had fought for so long to see once more.
Arcadia.
Home.
Chapter XXII
Reunion
The incoming fire was completely unexpected. The red and blue bolts blazed past, searing the hull and shattering the rocks in front of him. Simon looked behind him, appalled. Where had they come from? A panic gripped him. Had the Alliance finally found him?
A flicker of gray raced through the ring, another wave of bolts following. He watched with awe as the fight raged.
Then the radar pinged. One blip. Two. More popped up. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. It was crashing—too many to count.
A second grey flicker accelerated past him, then the craft doubled back to cross directly in front of his ship, catching him off guard. The next moments were a blur. His hands flew to the controls, trying to evade this newfound enemy.
He saw the ship’s markings, and stopped.
No… the Alliance hadn’t caught him. In fact, this scenario was much worse.
Because he recognized those markings.
The Crows were back.
Warning. Warning. The alarms blared in his ear. He shot through the last asteroids, trying to evade the plasma that was scorching him alive. The engines flared, and died, leaking fuel into the blackness of space. That alarm added its wail to the din.
He glanced back Nothing. He pulled back on the controls, but too late. When he looked forward again, it was just in time to witness his ship slam into one of the denser rocks. The impact knocked the breath out of him.
Then the silver glint came swooping toward him. The ship’s defenses were fluctuating, and barely took notice of it.
The bolts seared through his ship before he could take action.
Later, he woke, dazed. Fog clouded his vision. Sparks flew through the air, and only a blue light filtered through. It cleared, leaving only a sense that something was missing.
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