Jericho

  Psychosomatic Output: 1,388 Bio-Units

  Synaptic Rank: Unbound

  Arthros wouldn't lie to me, she's dead.

  Whatever that thing was, it couldn't have been Kyrin. He shuddered at the thought of her rancid breath, gaunt face, and empty dull eyes.

  That wasn't his Kyrin, it was impossible.

  As Graito held him, his eyes wandered to the woman's unmoving form. She was still lying in the same place that the Shadari had thrown her, and he wondered if the force of the impact had killed her.

  A part of him whispered doubt and unease, threatening to shake his resolve in his commitment to the Division and Arthros.

  He wouldn't lie... would he?

  It was hard to think rationally when he was tucked under Graito's arm like a basket of bread. He was being carried to safety, how humiliating was that? Yet, when he looked up at Graito's face he didn't see a mocking sneer but a look of fierce determination.

  Pride shone through his pooling dread like a lighthouse piercing a blanket of fog.

  Even if his legs didn't work, he still saved Graito. The Myrd was here because of his sacrifice, and yet... he couldn't overcome the bitter taste of regret.

  How could he pilot a mech if he couldn't even walk?

  Graito ducked behind a tent, as Arthros mech walked forward. Jericho shot a questioning glance at the Myrd and saw his yellow eyes darting around the impending battlefield. They had to move now if they wanted to get to the others in time, or they risked getting caught in the crossfire.

  "What's wrong?" Jericho whispered.

  The Myrd tightened his grip on the struggling woman in his other hand, "I don't know what Arthros has planned. I'm sure the Shadari knows we've escaped by now, but who knows what he'll do if he sees out in the open."

  "I know exactly what he's going to do, we're all dead!" The woman sputtered as she clawed at the iron grip around the back of her neck.

  Graito shook her. "Shut up! If you want to live, you'll keep your mouth shut. We have to time this carefully. We go once we're sure one of the Mechs can get to us."

  "Just put me down, the human over there, she's my responsibility. Please just let me go." The woman's voice was thick with emotion.

  "I said quiet!" Graito hissed.

  Jericho wet his lips as his gaze tore from the Shadari and the perimeter of HWNDs, to the imposter's unconscious now quite far away. "Is she really..."

  "Yes." The Union woman was staring at him with a somber look, one blue eye was swollen and the other half shrouded by loose locks of blonde hair. She bit her split lip, "That's Kyrin Ammend."

  She winced in anticipation as Graito's hand rose, but the rumbling steps of Arthros' mech made him freeze. Jericho watched as the massive HWND folded its arms across its chest, golden visor glowing with pretentious malice.

  If the Shadari was wary of the HWND's might, he didn't show it. "You've lost, Arthros."

  "Not yet," Arthros' voice was amplified into a booming rumble.

  The Shadari let out a wheezing laugh, "Don't you see? I'm just the tip of the spear. Already I am in command of hundreds here, and thousands are on the way. You cannot stop us. Not here, and not when we obliterate your world."

  Arthros HWND remained motionless, "Then kill us and be done with it, you're not going to scare us off."

  "That's the last thing I wish to do. Soon, my warriors will overwhelm you and your Pilots, but before they come, there is something I want." He lifted a clawed hand, and pointed a talon at Arthros, "To fight you."

  "We already fought," Arthros said, "I won."

  Recli shook his head, "Not in the presence of my warriors. Their souls will sing my praise to the God of the Hunt, and she will bless our conquest of this system."

  "And if I refuse?"

  "The hostages die first, and I'll eat their heads in front of you."

  Okay, that's just messed up.

  "I accept," Arthros said.

  Recli's deranged smile deepened. He opened his mouth and let out a guttural howl that echoed across the valley and rang in Jericho's ears. The hair on the back of his arms lifted as goosebumps rose on his skin.

  A flash of purple and a loud bang cut Recli's howl short, and moments later, he collapsed to the ground, smoke rising and obscuring his face. Jericho gaped at the fallen Shadari and looked to see Arthros' raised arm and the smoking plasma canon still aimed where the lizard had been standing.

  The HWND's faceless, mechanical head tilted to see the Shadari's limp body lying in the sand, "I win."

  The camp was so silent Jericho could swear his heartbeat was audible to those standing in shock. For a moment no one moved, and it was Graito who broke the silence.

  "We go now!" He growled and leapt out from behind the tent.

  Graito's sudden movement was the catalyst for an explosion of activity. The Relcos scattered as they raced to the minimal shelter their tents provided, some of them drawing weapons as they did so.

  In an instant, the camp was ablaze with plasma fire, most missing their marks while others dissipated harmlessly on the mech's armour. Explosions deafened Jericho's ears and sent the occasional spray of sand in his face as Gratio weaved across the clearing.

  "Get those two to their HWNDs!" Arthros roared.

  Another HWND leapt forward as Arthros, and the others returned fire. A giant mechanical hand scooped Graito out of the air, though they barely fit in the mech's grasp.

  "Incoming!" the amplified screech of Fydither was unmistakable.

  Being squished in the mech's hand was cramped and incredibly uncomfortable, but he did have a clear view between the HWNDs' fingers.

  What he saw turned his blood to ice.

  The surrounding dunes were swarming with Shadari warriors. They flooded down the slopes like a sea of rats, tumbling over each other in their crazed haste to reach the battlefield. The cacophony of their war cries rose above the crashing explosions and plasma blasts.

  There were simply too many.

  "Formation 4, focus fire on the swarm!" Arthros commanded.

  The plasma cannon in his left arm formed, replacing mechanical fingers with a weapon's barrel. He joined the others in their barrage and the dunes lit up with purple plasma fire. Jericho watched as targets dropped in smoking heaps, yet many who were hit got back up and continued their speeding charge.

  They would be on them soon, and it was instantly obvious that their attempts to thin the numbers were futile.

  "To the ships!" Arthros shouted, "Formation 2, defend Randrea!"

  The HWNDs turned to retreat, but it was already too late. A few Shadari had cloaked themselves and snuck around. They stood in between the HWNDs and the Novawolfs. There were only a few, and they would most certainly die, but their sacrifice meant that the main force would reach the HWNDs in time.

  The flanking force wasted no time, and Sto'ram was the first to be attacked as they leapt at her. The smaller mech stumbled to the sand, unable to withstand the force of their collisions.

  It was impossible to tell what was going on through the haze of battle and the constant shaking of Randrea's hand as she ran to the ships, but Jericho was able to catch the blurry shapes of other HWNDs as they hurried to Sto-ram's aid.

  A sudden force nearly knocked him loose, and his ribs protested as Randrea's grip tightened to keep him secure.

  "Let us go, Ran!" Graito screamed.

  Jericho could just barely catch sight of the Shadari attacker, and watched as Randrea drove an ARC blade through the lizard's skull.

  "I'm not putting you down in this mess!" She shouted back.

  Two more Shadari leapt at Randrea. Jericho tried to warn her, but his words were lost as she crashed to the ground, unable to properly defend herself without the full use of her hand. She hit the sand hard, causing her grip to loosen.

  Jericho, Graito, and Cyprus were hurled onto the sand. He lay in a daze, ears ringing from the impact. For a fleeting moment, he became intensely aware of the wispy clouds and wondered how they managed to form on a planet without water.

  Graito's alarmed face filled his vision, interrupting the meteorology lesson droning in his mind. A strong arm scooped beneath his neck, and once again he was hoisted off the sand.

  Jericho blinked away the daze and gave his head a shake to clear the incessant ringing. Clarity hit him like a bucket of ice water and the intensity of the battlefield gripped him with sudden terror.

  Giant mechs stomped, rolled, and grappled around them. Heavy, mechanical boots stomped and tossed sand in the air, further adding to the chaos. Graito scrambled and dodged, desperately trying to weave between his comrades as they wrested against the reptilian swarm.

  More than once Graito had to dive forward to avoid being crushed. The HWNDs were fighting for their lives and would ignore what they crushed underfoot.

  A particular close call forced a tidal wave of sand forward as HWND was knocked to the ground. The rippling surf of sand threw Graito forward, freeing Cyprus from his grip.

  The Myrd hesitated for a moment and then cursed under his breath. He continued without fetching Cyprus, who was scrambling away.

  "What are you doing? She's getting away!" Jericho shouted.

  "I'm taking you to your HWND!"

  My what?

  He never even had the training. How was he supposed to pilot one? Not to mention the paralysis. Would that affect things? Was he doomed to slither on his belly like a great mechanical snake?

  The mutilated body of Shadari slammed into the ground in front of them, and that was Graito's queue to officially abandon Cyprus.

  "We just need to make it to Dight!" Graito growled.

  He leapt over a disemboweled corpse and ducked under the flying body of another. Everywhere Jericho looked the Shadari fell, mutilated and destroyed beyond recognition as the HWNDs weaved through the battlefield like dancers.

  "There he is!" Graito shouted.

  Jericho looked forward and saw the Aopriordian's mech. The bestial machine was an unstoppable force, and even the Shadari were hesitant to get close. Many tried, and many failed. Crushed under the gargantuan club-like limbs. On Dight's back was a powered down HWND smaller than all the rest.

  It was armored for close combat, and on both arms were HWND-sized ARC blades. Almost identical to the weapons Jericho's father had given him all those years ago.

  Graito raced up to the mech, stopping just out of reach of the stomping limbs and the swarming fury of the Shadari.

  "Hey, you half-brained giant." Graito shouted, "Drop the HWND!"

  Thankfully the reptiles didn't notice Graito's relatively inconspicuous presence. Next to the mechs' bright blue and gold colours, they were practically invisible. Regardless the Shadari were preoccupied with Dight and his deadly bulk. They crawled across his back, covering him like ants on a discard piece of food.

  Somehow, the Aopriordian managed to hear Graito's plea, and a second later, Jericho's HWND was ejected with a loud hiss of steam. It landed heavily and embedded itself awkwardly in the sand, its form that of a person crouching in the fetal position.

  A horrible, amplified cry ripped through the strident chords of war.

  Shadari and HWND alike froze and turned to see what had made that gut-wrenching noise.

  In the haze of smoke and dust, Recli, was somehow standing. At his feet was the ruined frame of a HWND.

  A hole had been blasted in his face, completely tearing open the lower half of his head. The inside of his mouth was visible through grizzle and charred strips of flesh. His tongue hung out of the ruined opening, and the exposed bone of his jaw and skull glistened in the sunlight.

  Yet despite the horrific injury, he was smiling. He seemed bigger.

  Jericho's heart lurched when he recognized the dark form skewered on the end of Recli's tail.

  Sto'ram, hanging lifeless, flesh torn from the jagged edges of metal Recli had pulled her through.

  "No!" Graito moaned, "No, I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

  Graito's agonized howl was easily drowned out by the others. The collective screech of amplified rage rippled across the battlefield, causing many Shadari to falter.

  Jericho couldn't take his eyes from Recli and the sinister smile that stretched across his ruined face. He shuddered as the predator-orange glow of the reptile's eyes seemed to meet his, and for a moment, Jericho felt like the Shadari was mocking him.

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  How is he alive?

  The others reacted before Graito could senselessly throw his life away. Fydither's airborne HWND hurtled across the sky, but Recli was unperturbed and fearlessly leapt into the air to meet the Ordanian. Jericho watched in horror as Recli managed to neutralize most of the mech's velocity, sending them both crashing to the ground in an awkward pile. He could hear Fydither's panicked cries as the reptile begin to pull apart the steel plating. The unmistakable squeal of ripping metal was matched by Randrea's vehement snarl as she drove her mechanical shoulder into the side of the reptile's head.

  The tackle forced Recli into the ground as Randrea smoothed rolled over the top of him. She used her tumbling momentum to flip onto her feet, an impressive display of agility for a machine.

  "I have to help them!" Graito shouted.

  Randrea and Recli were grappling now, her axes ineffectual in such close range. A heavy right hook staggered her, and she fell to one knee.

  Jericho nodded, Randrea needed all the help she could get. There was nothing he could say to keep Graito any longer, and yet Jericho didn't want him to leave.

  He didn't want to be abandoned. "I don't know what to do."

  Graito dropped him in the sand before the HWND and looked him in the eyes, "Yes you do,"

  "My legs..."

  The Myrd brought his face close to his, "You have to do this."

  Jericho looked up at the mech, and hopeless despair threatened to asphyxiate him. It was too big, too intimidating. He couldn't possibly Pilot something of this magnitude, could he?

  He heard the dreaded echo of his mother's voice, you're pathetic.

  "Graito, I can't, I don't know what to do." He pleaded.

  The Myrd grabbed him by the face with his thick padded fingers, and his lips pulled back in a ferocious snarl, "Now is not the time to go soft. You can do this. You have no choice."

  Behind him, Randrea was fighting for her life. Hydraulic fluid sprayed from a jagged hole in the HWND's belly, a near miss from her hiding place in the cockpit.

  "Okay."

  Graito paused for a moment, "Maritarou."

  The same word he had spoken before they left Hokku. It barely left Graito's lips before he turned to leave.

  Jericho wanted to ask him what the word meant and what significance it had for his culture, anything to get him to stay, but the Myrd was already gone.

  He hoped he would get another chance to ask.

  The chaos of the battle seemed to fade slightly as he turned his attention to the daunting machine crouching before him. It might have been small in comparison to the others, but it towered over him now, even in its compressed state.

  He reached out and placed his hand on the smoothly polished steel. To his surprise, the HWND reacted to his touch, and two large steel plates on its back folded out. A golden glow came from the cavity inside.

  He began to climb.

  Muscles burned as struggled to pull himself up the metal statue. Without the use of his legs the simple task was significantly more strenuous. Thankfully his brief tenure on Hokku had provided enough strength training and nutrients so that the task was not impossible.

  As he neared the cockpit, an explosion rocked the entire mech, and for a terrifying moment, Jericho thought the entire thing would come crashing down on his head in an anti-climatic ending. Fortunately, the mech endured the blast, allowing Jericho to reach the cockpit's opening.

  His eyes widened as he stared into the cockpit. What was waiting for him was a strange mould of his own body; the material was stark white, while bathed in the golden glow of the interior illumination system. It seemed to flex and breathe in response to his presence, and it felt like synthetic skin beneath his fingertips.

  Before he climbed in, Jericho took a moment to analyze the battlefield. Fydither, Randrea, and Scor were simultaneously battling Recli. They were a blur of robotic limbs, flashing ARC blades, and glowing plasma cannons. Somehow Recli was faster, and strong enough to repel most of their attacks. Some of them landed, but he was in a deranged state.

  The monster seemed to swell with each injury; his muscles bulged, and his attacks grew more vicious. Jericho watched Randrea hack into the meat of his shoulder, a battle-ending wound that would have crippled any warrior.

  Recli only laughed, dwarfed by the surrounded mechs and yet overpowering all of them.

  Jericho turned his attention to Dight and Arthros. They were fighting the horde of enemies pouring over the dunes.

  Arthros fought with a ferocity that matched Recli. ARC blades flashed as they cut down lizard after lizard. He weaved his way through the onslaught, raining death upon those who dared try to break through. Jericho was hypnotized by his prowess, barely able to comprehend the display of skill and technique.

  Yet, it didn't matter how talented Arthros was, there were simply too many Shadari. They needed his help, and he was stalling.

  From the far-right flank, a swarm of Shadari broke through, and the Pilots were too busy to stop them. They flooded across the encampment, charging directly at the Novawolfs that everyone was fighting so hard to protect

  Jericho was the only one who stood in their way. He wasn't even in his HWND.

  For a single, strange moment, time seemed to slow as he reflected on the incoming doom.

  He was going to die in the most anti-climactic fashion. All that work just to be killed for his own procrastination? Why hadn't he just got in the HWND right away? Now it was too late.

  He braced himself for the inevitable as the first of the incoming Shadari leapt, claws extended, tail poised. You were right mother.

  A HWND with six limbs stepped between him and the Shadari, tossing the lizard aside with a violent shoulder check.

  "Graito!" Jericho could hardly believe his eyes.

  The HWND didn't look at him, but the amplified voice was laced with frustration, "For Tril's sake, get in the HWND!"

  "Look out!"

  Two more Shadari leapt at him, snarling and spitting as they dragged him to the ground. They could barely keep him down.

  Graito pushed himself up into a one-arm handstand and used his moment to kick one of his attackers in the head, a blow that audibly cracked the lizard's neck.

  The other howled in rage but was silenced by a punch that knocked it flat. Graito caved the lizard's skull in with a stomp.

  More were coming, so many more.

  "Jericho!" Graito snarled.

  Jericho threw himself into the cockpit, and the suit reacted like a living creature. It clung to his skin and squeezed itself over the rest of his body. He felt energy ripple through his muscles and his mind went blank.

  Every sensation disappeared like he ceased to exist. He felt the AI In his mind stir, and he willed it to awake.

  "Key, It's time."

  The AI seemed bored, "Another training session Jericho?"

  "Not this time."

  That got its attention. He felt his strength fortify as the computer prepared for the neural strain of the HWND.

  "Stand by for system check..."

  "You know how to do this?" He couldn't help but ask, this was the first time either of them had stepped inside a mech.

  "Not really, but I can feel what I'm supposed to do... It's what I was created for, Optics online."

  His eyesight returned, only this time he was seeing through the HWND's golden visor. It was a wider range of vision than he was used to, with perfect acuity—as if it were his own eyes he were looking through.

  Except vision alone wasn't good enough, and now he was powerless against the horror unfolding before him.

  All he could do was watch as Graito fought against the swarm like a light house amidst a raging sea.

  They clawed and slashed, but he was too quick.

  They leapt on his back, at his chest, and his legs, but he was too strong.

  When they lashed out with their tails, he was too smart.

  With every elusive movement more fell to strikes from their own kind. Shadari tails pierced the bodies of their comrades, as they aimed blows intended to puncture steel.

  Yet more were coming.

  "Auditory systems online."

  The discordant crash of battle filled his ears. Plasma cannon explosion, curses, and the Shadari's strident war cries. All of it orchestrated into a filthy score, the soundtrack to the unfolding horror

  Graito slashed open the throat of one with a single swipe, "As long as I'm standing, I'll kill you all!"

  A particularly large Shadari, not quite Recli's size, managed to grab hold of the HWND's arm. Graito was too preoccupied to stop him, and his arm was ripped clean from its mechanical socket. Graito howled in agony and outrage as the damage translated into real pain.

  "Speech Recognition Online"

  "Graito!" Jericho screamed out, his amplified voice sounding strange as it cycled into the Mech's audio input. "Get out of here!"

  The Myrd didn't hesitate from the lost limb, and his mech continued its tenacious fight, "I'm not going to leave you, the first time always takes the longest."

  "Nervous system online."

  The world around him became real; he could feel the blaze of sand beneath his feet and the wind in his face. The stench of the battlefield was rancid from death's foul concoction of bodily fluids. He felt the tingle of sand whipping against his mechanical skin.

  He willed his HWND to move, but he was frozen in place. The only thing keeping him alive was Graito. Somehow the Myrd was managing to hold the relentless torrent of Shadari warriors at bay.

  "If you stay, you'll die!" He pleaded with him.

  You're a HWND Pilot, a real one. I haven't made it yet, don't sacrifice yourself for me!

  Graito stumbled from a tail strike that penetrated a leg. Sparks flew, and his HWND twisted awkwardly. Yet, he didn't stop, and a groan of agony and frustration emanated from his mech as he forced his crippled HWND forward.

  "Then I'll die defending a brother!" The Myrd howled as he hurled himself back against the rising offensive.

  More Shadari succumbed to the iron claws embedded in his fists. Graito battled with the ferocity of a feral animal. A pile of corpses was building at his feet, but it wasn't enough.

  "Musculoskeletal system online."

  Jericho could feel his legs again.

  He couldn't help the gasp of relief and the prickle of tears. He was no longer bound by the paralytic embrace of his steel body. In the mech, he could stand, run, and fight!

  If only he hadn't hesitated to get in the HWND sooner.

  Graito's mech went rigid when a Shadari's barbed tail punctured through the chest's plated armour Jericho knew that it had found its mark.

  An inhuman scream ripped from his lips as he watched the Myrd's mech fall like a toppled statue.

  "Weapon systems online."

  Before he even knew what he was doing, the twin ARC blades slid out of their sheaths on his arms. He stabbed down at Graito's killer and skewered his blade through the top of the alien's skull.

  Another leapt at him over the pile of bodies, but he speared it through the belly with lightning quickness. A spray of blood coated his mechanical arm as he ripped the blade free.

  He spent his whole life feeling small, and now, as he was piloting his HWND, it was the galaxy that felt small. To him, these monsters were no bigger than children, and they moved with a toddler's awkward grace.

  Yet despite his newfound prowess, Graito still lay motionless before him.

  Jericho sheathed his blades and grabbed hold of Graito's mechanical foot. He started to drag the mech through the sand and was surprised by the physical strain he felt in his own muscles. Everything the HWND did and felt was translated directly back to his brain and then funneled to his muscles.

  No wonder he needed the AI; he couldn't do this alone.

  Another wave of Shadari poured over the makeshift wall of bodies, but Jericho didn't pay them any mind. He had to get Graito back to the ships; it was the only hope the Myrd had.

  "Hang in there Graito! You're going to be okay! I'll get you out of here!" Emotion wavered his desperate screams, and his voice broke.

  A rather fast lizard managed to reach them but proved insignificant against Jericho's grief-fueled power. He left the decapitated body behind as he dragged Graito's still form to the line of ships.

  "We're almost there, you're going to be okay."

  There was no response. The HWND lay eerily still, a giant mechanical puppet. He tried to scan for any sign of life, but his AI was overloaded and the sheer pressure of the mech was derailing any critical train of thought.

  Jericho turned back to see how the others were faring. Somehow, they had managed to push the Shadari back, but only far enough to create enough space for a retreat.

  The forefront of that campaign was Arthros who fought against the Shadari as though he were a hundred soldiers. The fluidity of his movements combined with the brute force of his strikes was an unstoppable combination.

  Many Shadari balked at his god-like warrior prowess, and they died as they fled. For a moment, a tiny sliver of hope blossomed in Jericho's heart.

  They could win. Arthros was simply too unstoppable. "We're going to make it, Graito, you're going home!"

  The blooming flower of hope withered at the sight of Recli rising once more from the sea of corpses. Jericho hadn't seen how he had gone down the second time, and his body was riddled with so many injuries it was too hard to guess.

  Nonetheless, the Shadari leader was standing, almost unrecognizable due to the horrific disfigurement of his reptilian face.

  Recli tossed his head back and a bone-chilling scream rang out from his ruined maw. The keening note halted the other Shadari in place.

  For a moment, there was peace.

  The other HWNDs weren't perturbed and took advantage of the unexpected respite. They began to slowly walk backwards, keeping an eye on the army of Shadari as they marched back to the ships.

  Arthros, however, stood still. Tied around his mechanical neck and waving lazily in the wind was the thread, shining like an ethereal scarf—a warning and a beacon.

  "I need to go," He muttered, "I need to help."

  Jericho's feet began to move, ignoring Randrea's panicked bark to stay still. The thread was never wrong, Arthros needed him.

  "You will give me what I want!" Recli screeched.

  "I've already killed you three times." There was an unmistakable weariness in Arthros' voice.

  Recli cackled, "You still don't get it! No creature can kill me; I have been touched by the Empress! I will deliver this star system to her, along with your head that I will wear on a chain. All you have are your machines, and soon even that will be taken from you."

  Jericho reached Arthros and unsheathed his blades. Together they could kill the beast.

  Arthros turned to look at him, "Your father, he can help us."

  Jericho faltered and his vision flickered. "What?"

  Recli wheezed out a mocking laugh, "Delirious ramblings of the defeated? Already?"

  "The engineer, he's alive on one of the moons, find him. Now go! You must leave!" Arthros turned back to the others still slowly marching backward, "Retreat! All of you, retreat!"

  "My father is alive?" Jericho repeated dumbly, his brain was overloaded, nothing was making sense.

  "He knows about the A.I., find him! That's all I could figure out, now go! Run!" The last word he amplified to the others.

  Jericho watched as the thread around Arthros neck vanished— winking out of existence in betrayal. He didn't know what to say and his mind worked to try and make sense of the words. Why was Arthros telling him this now?

  Powerful hands shoved him in his chest, and he stumbled backward, "Go!"

  Jericho's legs obeyed first, and he began to run back to the others.

  Recli's laughter grew louder, "Yes, run! Run away like the rodents you are! Shadari! Kill them all!"

  The Shadari charged once more, and it suddenly became very clear why Arthros was forcing them to leave. There were even more than they had first realized, thousands.

  How they had managed to hold them back in the first place was a testament to the HWND's prowess in battle.

  They all turned to run, as fast as their robotic legs would take them. Jericho looked over his shoulder. Arthros was fighting once more, felling Shadari left and right as he danced to the song of death. The other Shadari swarmed past him, like river rushing past a stalwart boulder. Arthros had given them enough time, they would make it.

  "Fly!" Arthros shouted "Fly now! Save Dromedar, Fly!"

  Jericho didn't look back; they were so close. As he ran, he saw Randrea in front of him, looking back over her shoulder.

  "No, don't!" She screeched.

  An explosion so powerful momentarily cut his auditory system, and the following shockwave rippled across the terrain and tossed him aside like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

  Jericho picked himself off the ground, apprehension filling him as he looked around in bewilderment. The other mechs were strewn about, and they struggled to stand. He looked over his shoulder but all he could see was an opaque cloud of sand and smoke.

  His auditory system came back online, and immediately Randrea's scream filled his ears, "Arthros!"

  There was no answer, and strangely enough, there were no enemies. It was as if the swirling sand and smoke shielded them from the attackers.

  Everyone was stunned as they stared at the swirling cloud obscuring the Shadari from view. Jericho had a creeping suspicion what had happened, but he didn't dare voice the question out loud.

  He couldn't.

  Recli's laughter resumed in the haze of smoke, followed by the hissing and howling of the shadari warriors.

  "We have to go, Ran!" Fydither shouted as he started to climb on his Novawolf.

  She didn't move. The others were also boarding their ships, and in a few minutes, they would be out of their HWNDs and ready to fly away.

  Ready to obey their commander's final order.

  "Ran!" Fydither screamed.

  "Arthros is still back there!" Randrea refused to back away.

  "You felt that shockwave, he sacrificed himself! Don't be emotional now, let's move!"

  Jericho's blood went cold. So that explosion was what he thought. He was going to be sick.

  Randrea shook her head, stumbling back a few steps, "I can't leave him!"

  The sound of the Shadari attackers was getting closer.

  "You heard his orders, Ran, don't get yourself killed too. He wants us to live." Fydither turned away from her, and his HWND climbed into the ship's locker.

  Behind his ship, Dight's lifted off the ground followed by Scor's.

  Jericho didn't move either. He refused to leave her and Arthros here. Come on, Randrea. If you stay, I'll stay. Just say the word.

  Randrea seemed to read his mind, "We can't 'Icho, they're right. Where's Graito?"

  Jericho's mechanical knees buckled, and he looked around desperately for the HWND. The explosion had significantly altered the landscape, burying the mech in sand and rubble.

  "He's- He's somewhere here, we have to find him!" Jericho dropped to all fours and began to dig.

  A strong hand twisted him around and he saw Randrea's faceless mechanical head staring at him. "Is he gone?"

  Jericho couldn't talk, the neurological pressure was already too much to handle, his grief made speaking impossible.

  Randrea lifted him in the air, "Where is he!"

  Hot tears began to stream down his face, "I don't know!"

  There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to explain. Graito could be alive, but his body was lost in the swirling chaos of sand dust. His vision flickered once more and he could feel his limbs growing heavy. The mech's energy efficiency was severely lacking, most likely a product of it's incomplete construction.

  For a moment Randrea held his mech in the air, the emotionless mechanical face unreadable. He wanted her to strike him, to scream at him. It was his fault, Graito was lost because of him.

  "Take his ship, we need to leave." She finally spoke, her voice laced with artificial control.

  He started to walk towards the ship when he remembered his injury with striking dread. He couldn't leave the HWND.

  Randrea paused at her ship, "It's not that hard; I'll walk you through it. Just get in the air and we can tow you back."

  "I can't walk." He tried to say but the words came out slurred.

  She disappeared beneath the ship as she docked the HWND in the locker.

  The shadari were getting even closer and Randrea's ship began to rise in the air. He was the last one to leave. He would be forced to fly the HWND, but could it leave the atmosphere? There was still so much he didn't know.

  He leapt as hard as he could and willed the thrusters to ignite. They obeyed the mental command, but his controls were shaky, and he started to spin out of control.

  "Ran, I need you to come get me!" He shouted, unsure if she could even hear him.

  As the HWND began to fall, Randrea's Novawolf swooped in, and he landed heavily on the hull's roof.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Randrea snapped, her voice echoing from the built-in communication system.

  "My legs." He clung to the ship as hard as he could, "I can't walk."

  The ship didn't pause its ascent, "What?"

  "I'm sorry." His broken words were met with silence and he knew that she understood the depth behind them.

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw the two remaining Novawolfs. A stoic reminder of who they were leaving behind.

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