The beacon, p.12
The Beacon, page 12
It was a human woman about his age. She had pale skin, a heavily freckled face, though with some blood droplets mixed in, and bright red hair shaved on one side with the other falling to her collar. Dark, dried blood caked in a messy clump at the crown of her head.
Melias had seen her once before in the hangar bay of the commander’s base, but he didn’t know her. None of the others said her name, and with their helmets, it was hard to know if any of them recognized her. He was sure they had seen her too.
Ixion’s hands ran gently over her, inspecting, and then again with the bioscan. As he did so, he said, “She isn’t pierced through by the debris, so you may remove it, but carefully. I don’t need it falling on her or me if you jostle it wrong.”
Hearing that, Melias and Niath joined them in helping remove it. Nummer and Lyra had superior strength, but more hands meant less loose pieces coming free and hurting the others. Once that was all out of the way, they backed off and gave Ixion space. All except for Arke, whom he told to keep close for a moment.
“I’m going to move you out of this small enclosure. Is that all right?” he asked the woman.
Melias didn’t hear an answer but was pretty sure that she nodded. With permission, the medic grabbed her by the legs and Arke by the armpits, and they slowly lifted her from where she lay and out into the hall. The Sentinel sucked in a breath, and Melias had to wonder if she was struggling because of an injury or the stifling heat of the planet, which she presently had no protection against. Perhaps both.
As she came more clearly into their light from their helmets, they could see she was soaked in sweat and grime. Blood trailed down her jaw and neck, though he couldn’t tell where the wound was. Her right arm was at an awful angle, and there was blood seeping from her shirt along her hip.
Ixion examined her further. “Broken radius, punctured kidney, internal bleeding, concussion, some broken ribs, ruptured eardrum, clear dehydration, and bordering on heatstroke.”
Aaron whistled. “Wow, you’re going through the wringer.”
“Will she live?” Melias asked.
“Had we not found her, or if we had arrived a few hours later, no, but I think she will be all right once we get her back to the ship.”
The woman sighed, some measure of relief in the sound. Melias knelt in front of her and fixed her blue gaze with his own.
“Can you tell us your name? Apologies. I should know everyone under the commander’s umbrella, but as Sentinels, we’re all busy.”
She coughed, and a few flecks of blood spurted out. Not a good sign. She winced. “I-I am…S-Siobhan.”
Melias offered a comforting smile. “You’re going to be alright, Siobhan.”
He stood straighter, prepared to help Ixion and the others get her out of there, but she reached for him. “Wait,” she pleaded. He raised a brow. Her face was stricken but with a flicker of hope. “Is… Is there any…anyone…”
The crew fell silent and still. That was answer enough to the question she had not finished. Her face sank, and tears began to glisten.
“How many were you?” Ixion asked gently.
“Six of us. And a droid.”
That made Arke perk up. “We didn’t find a droid. Maybe they could still be salvaged. Tomi could fix them if they’re in decent shape.”
That did give Siobhan some visible comfort, but not much. Her eyes searched them and asked the question that she knew the horrible answer to. “S-so I am the only one?”
Ixion nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Loss was not something any of them were unaccustomed to. They were knights of the stars, former mercenaries, soldiers, warriors, and peacekeepers, all who had seen much death and sorrow. Still, losing your comrades, your friends, people you fought and bled with, laughed and cried with, it was always a blow no matter how hardened you were.
So when an agonized sob escaped her, they all understood. She didn’t cry for long, maybe because it was too painful, and perhaps also because she was surrounded by people and didn’t want to seem weak.
“Lyra,” Melias said. Her golden eyes snapped to his behind her orange-hued protective face visor. “You are the strongest, so I need you to gently carry Siobhan out of here. We don’t have the means or time to get her out any other way, and your strength and rocket boots will easily let you jump out of here.”
She nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
As she moved to Siobhan’s side and scooped her up into her arms, Melias addressed the others. “Nummer, Niath, with me while we search for the droid. The rest of you exit and get back to the ship.”
Wordlessly, they went to action. Lyra told Siobhan to brace herself, and as the wounded Sentinel did, Lyra crouched and then shot out of the wreckage through the hole they had come through. Her strength and boosters were the only way she could have resisted the heavier gravity. The rest of them had to climb out the hard way, which was even more difficult with the press of the air and the heat.
Melias did another sweep of the ship. He did not wish to see the bodies again but had no choice. They had to find the droid, or at least try.
Of course, now that they knew what to look for, it didn’t take long. After all, the ship wasn’t that big. Smaller by almost half to the Goose. Melias skirted down a small hallway that led into the belly of the ship, where their now-ruined small wormhole generator was. The room was half-squashed by the press of the earth below, but not enough that he did not see three-quarters of a medic droid laying in a heap on the floor.
It was one of the same kind the Angel Corps used, though with some obvious modifications in addition to the obvious and shoddy blue paint job to denote it as a Sentinel. Bipedal in shape but short and with a round middle where it housed its brain and kept its tools and extensions. A few panels could be seen in the middle, where extra arms would snake out.
Atop its stout, square neck was a horizontal cylindrical head, somewhat like the hammerhead sharks of Earth. The gold light that would have shone from its three center eyes was out. It was missing its left arm and left foot. As Mel surveyed the room, he found no evidence of those missing appendages and had no desire to search the rubble for them. A droid could be repaired. New parts could be bought.
Melias didn’t know if their hardware was damaged, or if the brain within was intact or corrupted by the crash, but that was something he was sure Tomi could assist with. As an android, she knew the inner workings of her lesser kin quite well.
“Over here, found them,” he called.
Nummer was there in an instant, and with minimal effort, he lifted the droid over his shoulder. Melias and Niath climbed out of the ship first, then laid on the lip of the hole. Nummer, who despite his strength would have had difficulty climbing out with only one arm, handed it up to them. They both took it and held on with all their strength. It left his arms shaking, but he and his vice-captain held on long enough for Nummer to climb out and then take up the burden again.
So, two survivors in a sense. One for sure. Not a good number. He wished they all would have survived, but he was at least glad he had not waited to stop here.
At least today, no matter what was to come, he would know he saved a life.
11
Siobhan was taken to the infirmary, where Ixion quickly went to work treating her injuries. Meanwhile, Nummer and Melias gave the droid to Tomi, who was surprised as they came into the hold with it and deposited it by her little workshop. Her assessment for the moment was that the belly looked intact, which boded well for the brain within.
She went to work on the droid, and Ixion worked on Siobhan, so Mel was down two Sentinels for the time being. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need them.
Once he settled back into his seat, only having stripped off his helmet, which he placed at his side, he wasted no time getting the Goose back in the air. Niath sat beside him, her frizzy curls looking wilder than normal—no doubt a side effect of the heat.
“Make note of the coordinates,” he told her as they rose back into the air. “We don’t have time to retrieve the dead, but I know the commander will want their bodies recovered.”
“Yes, Captain.”
He didn’t know if any of the dead had family, but they still deserved to be laid to rest properly and not left to rot on a faraway world. No one deserved that.
There was a heavy silence between them. He glanced her way. Niath’s face was stony, emotionless, but he knew that usually meant she was burying something. Not that she wasn’t usually stoic, but he knew the difference between her normal stoicism and deliberate quiet.
“You knew some of them, I take it,” he said.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I knew of them, met most of them. I wouldn’t say I knew any of them, certainly not well, but it is never a glad day when we lose some of our own, and definitely not when we lose so many.”
Melias’s grip tightened on the stick. A couple of knuckles popped. “Was it our fault? For choosing Narvote? For using the device and perhaps pushing Red into the arms of the enemy? Did we cause their deaths?”
“No. No, Melias. Do not blame yourself for their deaths. We might blame ourselves for Red, but she may have turned on us eventually because of the hold the Lightbringers have over her, but that is not why these Sentinels died. No one could have known there would be Colossi here, nor that comms would be jammed. They knew the risks, knew it might be a trap by a different enemy. We are not to blame.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath and then released, his grip loosening slightly. “I hope you’re right, though I can’t promise that I won’t think about it for a long time.”
She reached across the space between their seats and rested a hand on his shoulder. “So will I.”
There was nothing else to say. They had each other’s backs, in joy and sorrow, in guilt and innocence.
He steeled himself and pressed his mind to the task at hand. The signal beckoned, and now it had his full attention, his full hope, even if it dwindled with each passing second.
They soared over mossy lands for many kilometers before the moss turned to plains of grass, orange and gold, brittle as it swayed in the wind. Large boulders and outcroppings of stone jutted out of the earth. Over the flat plains, a few huge mounds towered over little, lonely mountains that he presumed were small volcanoes. Whether they were active or not was impossible to tell.
As they flew, he failed to spy any hint of life or movement, save for some of the strange birdlike creatures he’d seen before. No large fauna, no people, no signs of any Colossi Mecha, though that didn’t mean they weren’t present. No sign of the Lightbringers, but he knew they would be well hidden. If this place was truly volcanic, and he was sure it was, then there would probably be many vast networks of lava tunnels all throughout the planet.
Finally, they came to the location of signal, though he couldn’t spot anything from the air. The grass had given way to more rocky plains, patches of moss dotting terrain dominated by more uneven volcanic rock. A small stream carved its way through the dingy red and gray surface, defiant as it ran from one of the larger nearby volcanoes and mountains. There was a waterfall in the distance.
There were several large rocky outcroppings, and some of them had what he judged to be cave entrances. At least that was what they appeared to be from the sky, dark alcoves in the shadows.
Still, no sign of ambush, no sign of Red, or any living thing. Except…
He thought he saw a flash of blue.
He set the Goose to hover a few meters above the surface, but he didn’t set down. He wanted her humming and ready, either to fight or give them a speedy escape if need be.
Then, Melias stood. Niath joined him. He commed Tomi and told her to take the stick and be on standby for fight or flee. He hoped for neither but was prepared for both.
They were all already armed and armored, so no time was wasted in the cargo hold. Mel had checked briefly in on Siobhan, who was out cold, and the droid, who was now propped up against the wall of the workshop with a new, silver foot.
The ramp lowered. They were a few meters above the ground, but the kinetic bracers in his boots and in theirs—most of theirs—would absorb the force of the fall, though it wasn’t too far a fall.
He jumped down, landed with a thud, then recovered and waited for the others to join him. All the while, he had his rifle raised, sights up, and eyes surveying everything for even a hint of movement.
Once everyone was down, he led them forward to the beacon where the signal was coming from, which was now so close that it could hardly be discerned on the scanners from their own position. He knew what it was or had a clue.
His boots crunched over the flaky rocks and bounced on the bits of spongey moss. He padded slowly forward, eyes still peeled for any movement or hint of treachery. Directly in their field of vision, he saw three dark holes. One small, one about as large as a man, and another slightly larger in the middle. They could have gone deep into the planet into tunnels that went on for many klicks, or they might have just been a deep inset in the rock shadowed by the sun and nothing more. His mind wouldn’t let him think that there was anything but danger waiting within, however.
All of that fell away from his mind when he came to the reason they were here. The source of the signal. Red. But not Red. Not her, not here, but something.
It was a small stack of volcanic rocks, deliberately stacked and positioned in a way that could never happen naturally. Large, smooth rocks on the bottom, gradually getting smaller at the top. Some were smooth, others craggy and filled with holes, much like the larger ones all around. This was a grave if he had to guess. Many species, humans included, would mark their dead like this. A bit primitive, but something present in their primal DNA, their ancestral memory.
But who was it for? Or was it simply a marker?
The flash of blue that he’d seen from above sat near the top. Before the rocks became so small he could hold them in his hands, one of the flat smooth ones acted as a ledge. Atop it sat a bright blue, if a bit scuffed, piece of armor.
His breath caught. He knew that armor, as they all did. It was from her. Red. A piece of her suit. The piece where the location tag was embedded. She had been here. She had left them this, knowing they would find it.
The question was, what did this mean? Was it her leaving this life behind, or telling them to come find her, or was it a trap after all?
“Melias, look,” Arke said softly, almost reverently. His eyes rose from the piece of armor and followed her gaze. Just beyond the grave, against the rock and bathed in shadow, was a message.
He wasted no time, almost jumping over the grave to get to the message. The others crowded behind him, all caution cast aside. If this was a trap, then they were walking right into it and not caring if it was sprung. Right now, Red was more important, consequences be damned.
Leaning in, he saw it—the letters, the words—burned into the rock with a plasma torch of some kind. The words were in Galactic Common, thankfully, which made him think it was her mind, not the one controlled by the Lightbringers, that had sent them this message.
I am sorry for everything, but you must not follow. I do not wish you all to be hurt. I will try my best to fight this, to save you all, but I cannot promise my success. Please, stay away and be safe, far from the chaos that is about to come. – R
He pulled away, stifling a shaky breath. Warring emotions raged within him, battling within his mind and beneath his skin. Raging relief fighting against frustration, who fended off hope, who tried to defend against the mounting thoughts of a plan to go after her despite her warning.
Those things could be discussed later, but this was her doing. Red had been here, and she had been of somewhat clear mind and had left them this message, because she was doing something against her will and trying to fight it and she cared for them. If that wasn’t the best news that could have come out of this beyond her being free and joining them again, then he didn’t know what else could have topped it.
“This is good, right?” he asked, barely a whisper, a rasp of his voice above the heavy breaths of his suit.
The others crowded in around him and read the message. He hoped he wasn’t the only one being optimistic and hopeful. He wasn’t an overly optimistic person, but when it came to friends and family, he tended to believe the best, because the contrary was maddening and depressing.
Arke leaned back and let out a sigh. “I think we can hope. She doesn’t want us to help her, but knowing you, you’re going to want to ignore that request.”
“You’re damn right I am.”
“Even if we do follow her,” Niath said, “we have no way to track her. Not without her locator.”
Melias huffed. “Well, that was why we went and got the device first, to use it to lure the Lightbringers to us.”
“That’s assuming the Lightbringers have the ability to actually track them and aren’t just using the same maps we are and their own knowledge of where the devices were left. If they can’t track the devices, then I’m afraid we’re back to square one.”
“If that’s the case, then we will keep looking for devices. Eventually, we will cross paths again. It’s inevitable. Even if its them that lure us.”
“I’d like to avoid that outcome, thanks,” Nummer said.
“Agreed,” Arke added.
Melias rolled his eyes, even though they couldn’t see it, and snorted. “Well, at least let’s look on the bright side. This was a heartfelt message and not an ambush. At the end of the day, that’s a win to me.”
He reached to grab for the piece of Red’s armor and put it in his pack for safekeeping, to give back to her when they were reunited, but then all hell broke loose. He knew he’d spoken too soon and had jinxed them, had tempted fate.
“Captain!” Lyra cried and tackled him to the ground. He wasn’t even able to form a thought or a sentence before her powerful arms were around him and pulling him down. Before they even hit the hard volcanic rock, he knew why.
