“If this is the end, MONA, thanks for watching my back for all these years.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
The tail hits first. It bounces up into the air, tipping us forward. I redirect all power to the forward dorsal thrusters. The snowy meadow rotates before me. Then vanishes overhead. The tail catches again, harder this time. The ship slams belly-down into the snow, bouncing and skidding. Momentum shifts.
We skitter sideways across the field. Snow sprays in white waves. I fear a death roll and frantically shift the thrusters’ focus to the opposite side, creating downforce. They drone loudly through the hull.
The ship sinks lower into the snow, the engine heat melting the area around us, forming an icy liquid. Loose items rock and rattle as they tumble around the cabin. But my Scintilla stops.
I check the medical stats, scrolling over Zariah’s cocoon. She’s safe for now.
“Sir,” MONA crackles. “Significant damage to aft section.”
“I figured.” I unbuckle and walk through the ship, surveying what I can.
“Life support is down,” MONA continues with clarity from a different speaker. “Missile dislodged, bay two.”
I go to bay two, inspect the missile, and get it repositioned safely back where it belongs.
“Thrusters four and seven out, dorsal, starboard,” MONA continues.
I fix what I can inside, then make a plan for outside. “Redirect remaining power to the cockpit. I want to ensure Zariah is safe. She’s not built to survive a place like this.”
I’m going to have to leave soon to search debris for parts to get life support back online. A heater core has been ripped out. There’s body damage that risks hull integrity. I have a lot of work to do.
But we’re alive.
For now.
Worried Zariah won’t make it with life support down, I gather all the blankets from every room and carry them to the cockpit. It takes me several trips. In the staff seating area behind the pilot’s seat, I pile them up and form a little divot in the center. With a backup heater I keep stored in a cargo compartment, I wire it into a nearby console and point it at the pile. Then I collect Zariah from her cocoon. It’s low on power and I don’t want her stuck in it while I’m gone.
I nestle her into the pile of blankets, tuck her limp body in as best as I can, and check her vitals on my wristband. She’s still safe but needs recovery time.
“Zariah.” I run a hand through her hair. Her face shifts enough I know she’s still with me, but she’s in pain. I give her one last vial of serum through her port, then tuck the blankets around her so only her face is exposed. “I have to go collect some parts from the crash trail. I’ll be back later today.”
She mumbles something that I can’t understand.
“Life support is down. Oxygen is safe for you here, low but safe. There’s just no heat except this unit. Stay in here. You’llsurvive until Aura gets here. If I’m not here when he arrives, go with him.”
She fights her way through the blankets and reaches toward me. I take her hand, kiss her cold fingers, and tuck her into the blankets again.
“MONA, confirm orders.”
“Confirmed. I will be sure she goes with Aurelius if you do not return, sir.”
I march myself to my quarters, pull out my arctic gear, and get dressed.
“Do not let anyone access Zariah in the cockpit unless it is me or Aurelius. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I grab a survival pack and my sled from a storage bay near the rear ramp, hike them over my shoulders, and lower the ramp, exposing the inside of the cabin to the blisteringly cold winter weather. Outside, I scan the hills and listen through the wind for signs of omenotau and hellacyna. Then I take my first steps into the snow. I close the ramp and scoop up a handful of melted ice, looking for any algae. I’m lucky we landed where we did. The ice is rich here. I pop a piece in my mouth and start the long hike out across the snowy meadow to hunt through the debris for critical parts.
I pick up a piece of housing for the heater core, check it and drop it. There’s only so much I can carry. I have to save my energy for the most important pieces.
A faint growl in the distance makes me dart my eyes across the edges of the field and draw my Haxgun. I have to get us out of here as fast as I can. No doubt the ghosters know where we dropped out. I know they’ll be here sooner than I’d like. If they don’t find us, someone else will come looking. My home might be remote, but everyone watching the races likely saw us depart the convoy unexpectedly.
I am really getting tired of running for my life.
