by Casey Lea
Darsey sagged and pulsed her com to halt her downward slide. She pulsed herself across the room instead, angling down to where Wing was supporting Clear.
“I can’t access anything,” the DS protested. “It’s locked by senior code and something more.”
Wing turned to look back up the tilting deck and a smile flickered on his face when his eyes met Darsey’s. She felt a surge of warmth and hope, but then his gaze moved on to find Free, who was moving too. The Leader reached them and skidded to a halt, sprawling beside his wife to offer his com to her. The ship shuddered and Darsey bumped the rest of the way to join her friends.
“We’ve but minutes,” Free panted, bracing himself against the wall on either side of Clear to hold her in place. She released her desperate pressure against that smooth curve, then used her husband's access code to force her way into the guarded display.
The ship swayed and wailed as their dive continued to strip its hull and the deck across the nest abruptly twisted. It buckled upwards to block the link and the metal at Darsey’s feet creased upward, to hold her in place. She stopped her com pulse, grateful for the step, but several kres below had been caught in the mangled deck. Any screams were lost in the growing sounds of the ship’s rupture, but minds could still be heard and Wing looked up to lock eyes with his wife.
The traitor left defenses plus, he warned, and this is far from done. Take care.
A series of blasts rang through the nest, loud enough to be heard over the wail of their fall and Darsey was thrown through the air. She hit the deck then rolled across its cracked surface. She thumped to a halt to lie there, bruised and battered. When her head stopped spinning she lifted it from the shattered deck to find a scene of carnage.
An explosion had destroyed the activated console and flung her friends across the nest. Smaller blasts lit the room, again and then again. Each flash blew a new hole along the curve of the nest.
The crew tumbled and slid over petals and ash, tossed around by growing mayhem. More blasts lit the room and Darsey saw slivers of metal dart from the walls. They arched toward the central pilot's seat, where the ruined dais now lay. A dozen silver diamonds reached that crater and circled it, before spiralling out as if seeking something.
Targets, the strange voice said in Darsey’s head and she wondered who was taking the time to keep her informed, but only briefly. A buzz from behind made her flip onto her back. Two slivers zipped past and dived into a group of people huddled beside her with deadly accuracy. Like oversized arrow tips, they burrowed through anyone in their path.
Darsey closed her eyes and pushed with her heels, sliding over a floor suddenly slick with blood. She reached a still form and dragged it on top of her, burrowing deep under a corpse she had no wish to recognise.
A dart whined past overhead and she froze. She lay very, very still and waited for it to pass, before she dared to peek out.
Darsey was looking for Wing and she spotted him at once. He was one of the few people still upright. She found him in mid-somersault and as he spun through the air, a dozen slivers curved past him. Two collided and disintegrated in a spray of shrapnel. He landed lightly and three corrected course to plunge straight at him. His sword swung and they fell to the floor in pieces.
Wing instantly sprinted away. Straight at the thickest concentration of drones. What was he doing? Darsey cried out, even as she realized he was doing exactly what he should be doing. What she should be doing too. Fighting back.
You’re pregnant, the voice in her head objected testily and she suddenly knew who it sounded like.
Grace?
Indeed.
Darsey paused in pushing away the body hiding her and ordered her com to stop her hallucinations. Her effort was rewarded by a dry laugh.
You won’t get rid of me so easily, girl and you’ve other concerns right now. Just lie still and watch my boys work.
Darsey automatically looked for Wing again. She found him in mid-air once more, slicing through a pack of darts in a spray of sparks and metal splinters. He landed in a forward roll that helped him slip under an incoming sliver, but it still grazed his temple, to leave behind a line of red.
More darts converged and Darsey made a small, keening noise, but Free was suddenly there. He skidded on his knees, straight past Wing and grabbed the sword when he skated by. Free came to his feet and jumped to skewer a sliver. He landed and spun to take out two more before sprinting away, chased by every dart that was close. He yelled and accelerated then leapt high, straight over the blackened hollow that used to be a dais. The drones swept after him and disappeared into the dark fog.
Darsey looked frantically for Wing, but he was on his feet and running. He skidded straight into the crater, sliding over its lip to land crouched and half hidden. His fronds swirled around him and images joined them. The scans and control points of a pilot console appeared and Darsey let her head fall back. They were going to make it.
She stared at the ceiling while her pulse slowed and something much closer came suddenly into focus. She was looking at the gleaming tip of a killer dart. Its skin rippled like bubbling mercury and Grace screamed in Darsey’s head.
It’s seen you. Run.
Darsey wriggled frantically sideways, heaving at the corpse, but the sliver was already diving. It sliced toward her chest as she threw the body aside. The hum was ear splitting, but she flung herself sideways at combat speed.
The drone slammed into the deck behind her. Its nose crumpled, but a line of energy spiralled around its body, growing brighter as she stared transfixed.
It’s mending itself, Grace informed her. I suggest a response-
Darsey attacked before she could finish and before the sliver could fix itself. She rolled back toward the dart and her heel slammed down on it.
“Arrgghh,” she cried in unexpected pain and her foot rebounded from the dart’s armoured skin making her dainty cream shoe fly through the air. She groaned, and the sliver rose from the deck turning to aim its undamaged point at her face.
You’re with child, the interloper in her head snapped.
“You’ve already said that.”
Quiet and listen, girl. Your body won't passage at this time. It can't while you carry a child. Think what cell merging might do to a babe trying to grow inside you. Pregnancy hormones have switched your ExM off.
Darsey absorbed the knowledge that she could no longer passage and her advantage in fighting was gone. The dart rose to hover at eye height, before abruptly leaping to full speed. She only had time to blink and it was on her. She closed her eyes, knowing she was too late.
However, nothing hit her. Seconds passed and Darsey unclenched her teeth, before carefully opening one eye and then the other. Right in front of her, so close it was hard to focus on, was the dart. It hovered, unmoving, in a spot between her eyes. She released a shaky breath and slid to one side, before realizing something else. The roar of their fall had eased. The ship still groaned and swayed, but it was no longer screaming at re-entry.
Darsey pushed herself to her feet and staggered toward the ruined dais. In the centre of the room, Wing was flying the ship, balanced in the crater and tapped directly into a massive hologram. It surrounded him, while he struggled to control it with fronds and hands, fighting against the last vestiges of Gull’s sabotage.
“We’re close to the planet,” he yelled. “Brace each other. This landing won’t be gentle.”
Darsey looked around for shelter, just as Free closed on her at speed. He had an arm around Clear and half-carried her with him.
“This way,” he called, throwing his free arm about Darsey's waist, to lift both females toward a buckled stretch of deck. He chose a trough of undamaged floor between two peaks and settled them within it. He wedged himself above them and held them both close as the ship began to buck again.
Darsey could turn her head far enough to see Clear, but when they made eye contact her friend sagged, her lids fell and she collapsed on the far side of Free
.
'Is Clear alright?' Darsey yelled in alarm, but he sent reassurance.
“Ye, she programmed a com coma. Anaesthetised herself. She'll be most relaxed when we hit- ah, land. Do you wish to do the same?”
“Will you?”
“No.”
“Me neither. Is this crash part of the Arck's plan?”
“Certain-sure. It's his usual SNEDO.”
“S-snedo?”
“Situation Normal Everyone Drakked Over.”
Darsey managed a laugh against Free’s shoulder. “What a great tombstone I’ll have. 'D. IceFlight, SNEDO'.”
“Dee? Is that your favored name?”
Darsey laughed again, with a tinge of hysteria this time, while the noise around them grew once more. “No. It's j-just my initial.” Only Devyn called me Dee.
The roar became deafening, but Free’s calm thought slipped easily into Darsey's mind, distracting her back to their inane conversation, which had suddenly become more serious. Who's Devyn?
My brother, she answered, with a surge of grief too great to control. However, before Free could respond, the universe seemed to fall apart around them. The vibration felt like it was going to tear her to pieces even faster than it split the ship. What the hell was Wing doing?
Darsey tried to see past Free’s shoulder, but it was impossible to lift her head. His weight was crushing and she panted frantically fast trying to hold back darkness. Something was wrong, she knew it.
What genius, Grace grumbled in her head. Wing’s trying to fly a wreck and keep its shield up too. That’s hugely demanding.
Darsey fought down the urge to argue with a voice in her head and tried to think instead. There was no way she could move to help her husband, but perhaps she didn’t need to shift. She closed her eyes and tried to lift her frond, but it was pressed flat. She gave up and concentrated on opening its bristles instead, unfurling them as far as she could. Wing!
Darsey? Busy.
I know. Let me help. I can keep the shield up. She lay gasping and trying to hold onto jagged pieces of her husband’s mind. The connection was worse than a cell phone in a tunnel. Darsey might have giggled hysterically, if she’d been able to get enough air.
Hard to hold, Wing warned, and handover will be a ditch.
Darsey sent back all the determination she could and was rewarded by a mental image of what her husband was doing. Holy hell. How was she supposed to help with that? It was going to be like handing over a shattered cup. If she dropped any of those tiny shards the remnants of their shield would fall apart and everyone would die.
No wonder Wing was reluctant to attempt an exchange, but the effort of doing both was too much, even for him. Darsey had no choice and neither did he. Give, she ordered and he obeyed.
A million shards scattered through Darsey’s mind and she threw her thoughts after them, but there were too many. Some scuttled away like beetles climbing her hands, while those she thought she’d caught seeped away like water through her fingers. The pieces were too different and holding them in a single head impossibly hard.
Darsey froze. The world roared around her and metal peeled from the ceiling above in a fluttering strip. Through the gash she saw fire and ice, as the cold atmosphere burned around them. How could she possibly hold back such an inferno?
By trying. Even when it seemed impossible.
Darsey closed her eyes to the hell outside and reached for the threads of the ship’s shield. They were shrivelling, curling away from her, but she stretched her mind and kept stretching. Past pain, past agony and past nausea, she gathered them together with desperate haste.
She couldn’t hold them all, not against such pressure, but she finally had enough. At least she hoped she did.
Darsey pressed each energy strand and its trailing sparks into an imaginary globe. A crazed and dented skin that she struggled to smooth around the remnants of their craft. She could feel multiple rips in her armour and countless cracks running between chasms, but somehow she held it together.
Hurricane heat blasted her, but she didn’t flinch. She accepted the pain of re-entry and kept that terrible abrasion away from the skin of their vessel.
The ship wobbled then dipped sharply, diving more steeply, but that wasn’t Darsey’s fault. It was up to Wing to pilot their desperately damaged craft, while she held back the fire. She sucked in each desperate breath and did just that, even when they crashed.
The ship landed with jarring impact. It hit the ground a glancing blow and bounced back into the air, before falling again. The collision crushed Darsey even deeper into the hollow and flattened her shield across the ship. The next impact was too much for it. Crushed between the ground and a crumpled hull it disintegrated.
Darsey groaned and let go. Her mind spun away too, so she hardly felt the series of jolts that followed. The shaking continued, although it gradually grew easier to resist and the roar slowly faded to a single groan. She finally managed to focus on the image above Wing.
He’d touched down in a meadow and the ship was ploughing along the planet’s surface, gouging its way deeper into the soft soil. It slowed further, until the prow met more solid rock and they suddenly stopped.
Everyone tumbled forward when the Grace lurched up and onto its nose. It hovered at the point of tipping over, but Wing fired thrusters and it fell back with a crash. The wreck of the ship had reached its final rest.
Inside its buckled remains, Darsey sagged and found herself staring at the gold braid of Free’s tunic. “Are we alive?” she whispered, and his chest heaved with a surprised laugh.
“I think, yes. Thanks to Wing.”
“Wing,” Darsey realized, and pushed away from her protector, who seemed happy enough to release her and offer both arms to his recovering wife. Darsey staggered out of their furrow, almost tripping on the remains of her skirt. She reached more solid footing and spun in a disoriented circle, looking for her husband.
“Wing,” she called again, and was frightened by how forlorn that cry sounded, but before she could panic, a familiar mind touched hers.
I’m fine, love. I got thrown from the dais and now the crew has me.
You’re hurt?
No, just mugged with gratitude. I’ll come soon-as, just, stay away from the dais.
Darsey frowned in surprise and tried to stare through the remaining smoke and steam. Most of the nest had survived and the only sign of the massive explosion at its heart was a ragged crater where there had once been a dais. Abruptly, Darsey realized that wasn’t the only sign of the attack. In the middle of the pit sprawled a blackened form.
Grace’s com field had been enough to keep her body relatively intact, but nothing more. Darsey lowered her eyes in horror and her nausea from a lifetime ago returned. She struggled with it while people moved slowly past her, drawn to thank Wing and pay their respects to the corpse in their midst.
Hish and hush, that impossible voice whispered through Darsey’s skull when she choked back a sob. I never knew you cared.
Neither did I. Grace, I don’t know where or what you are, but thank you. You died to save my family.
I’ve done so many times, but for now I’ll leave you all in peace. Look up, Darsey.
Darsey slowly lifted her head, but that fire-flayed body had vanished and she could see only the stricken kres kneeling around it. However, when she looked up, Sparrow walked away from that group to join her. He placed a hand gently under her elbow and led her further from the corpse. His frond touch was sad but resigned, and even carried reassurance. “She saved you all and was pleased to do so.”
“Oh,” Darsey choked, lost for further words, and Sparrow patted her arm, before releasing her and extending his hand.
“The jewel, if it please you,” he instructed gently and Darsey struggled to untangle the necklace from her wrist using only one hand. Sparrow had to help her unwind her earlier twisting and she finally passed it to him with unexpected reluctance. A faint voice might have called farewell, but
she couldn’t be sure.
“Full thanks, Lady IceFlight. If you’re well enough, I believe your husband needs your support.”
“Of course,” Darsey murmured, still listening for an elusive voice, before turning back toward the dais.
“Not that route,” Sparrow corrected and pointed at a group of kres jostling nearer the wall.
“Of course. I’m a bit distracted,” Darsey answered vaguely, but then there was a gap in the crowd and she saw who she was searching for. Abruptly she was running. She hurtled across the uneven deck and into Wing’s embrace. He hugged her back and time passed while they stood together in mutual support.
Well done, he thought. We’d have flown apart but for you. (pride, joy, concern) Are you well? Both of you?
Darsey felt sudden panic. Were they? Her com sent instant reassurance and she rested her head on Wing’s shoulder. She let him share her relief, but he was already running his own scan. “See,” she whispered, “baby’s fine.”
“Indeed- wait.”
“Wait? What do you mean wait?” Darsey pushed back in his arms to see the image hovering over his com. It was grainy and strangely colored, as if seen through fronds, but still clear enough. She leaned closer to check and gulped in shock.
“I’ll find a medic,” Wing promised, but she held him close so he couldn’t leave.
“No, it’s fine.” Darsey sent reassurance, but her husband’s mind was too distraught to listen.
“Our babe’s been cut in half. The cells are just two balls-”
“Wing. It’s okay. It’s twins.”
His mouth snapped shut, but he still looked panicked.
“Twins,” she repeated more slowly. “You know, two babies.”
Wing frowned and stopped trying to pull away, turning back to hold Darsey very gently. “I’m sure we’ll have more children in the future, but we can still help this baby.”
“We don’t need to. Listen to me and look at the scan. It shows two very tiny, perfectly healthy babies.”
This time Wing pulled away to study her more closely. “You think this is some sort of multiple birth? Like an animal?” Darsey sent a frond snap at the suggestion her babies were animals and Wing winced, but didn’t back down. “Only non-sentient creatures have multiple young.”