“How is that possible?” Miran grilled the watchstander. “Check again, and be sure.”

  “Matriarch. It’s Soren,” confirmed Captain Danesh, “or his transponder at least.”

  Miran couldn’t believe it. Through the dim dark, a sliver of hope opened up.

  “Trace it. And dispatch a shuttle to confirm.” Miran ordered.

  “And the other signals, Matriarch?” asked the watchstander.

  “Send another shuttle to the Vasser. If it’s Halah Alteretla out there, we brought them here and owe them a lift home at the very least. And send two shuttles to Malfjordur; let’s hope there’s a good amount of survivors.”

  “Captain Danesh, thank you and your crew for your service in this conflict,” Miran started as she stripped off her evening dress. As she fitted an environment suit on at the back of the bridge, Captain Danesh stopped her.

  “Matriarch, what are you doing?” he questioned. “Don’t tell me you’re going down there personally.”

  “After all of the death we just witnessed, Loreto– I need to try.”

  Captain Danesh stepped back and flashed her a formal salute.

  “For the Herd,” he said.

  Miran smiled a half-cocked grin. Without another word, she rushed off to the shuttle bay.

  As Miran’s shuttle cleared the bay just behind the other three, it boosted off towards the planet at maximum velocity. In the intervening hour between The Dream and the planet’s surface, Miran tried her best not to let her mind race. She hoped that Soren would be there, waiting in the forest for pick-up.

  “Matriarch, are you seeing this?” the shuttle pilot asked.

  “Show me,” she said.

  The pilot flashed an image on the shuttle’s wallscreen.

  “See this ping? There’s another distress signal at the sight of Captain Djucovik’s transponder. It’s coming from a firecrawler by the name of Perun.”

  Miran called up the firecrawler’s dossier on her terminal that showed the vessel was registered to a Captain Tolly Ignacio.

  “What the hell is a firecrawler?” Miran scoffed. The pilot just shrugged.

  “Timestamp on the distress signal is old though,” said the pilot, “dated near three weeks ago.”

  Strange, Miran thought, how could a vessel be stranded this long in the outer continent?

  “Well, take us in,” Miran commanded, “I’ll see if I can reach them.”

  “I’ll need to take us on a bit of a roundabout. There’s fresh wildfire dead ahead. Seems to be headed straight for the Perun.”

  Miran opened a bulletin to The Perun’s general channel.

  As the bulletin established, a battered, somewhat familiar young woman stared back at her.

  “Hello?” the young woman answered.

  “I detected your SOS, though the timestamp on the transmission seems to be three weeks ago,” Miran said, just as the distress signal terminated, “Well at least it was.”

  The young woman introduced herself as Tolly; the same Tolly Ignacio registered as captain to the vessel Miran’s shuttle now headed toward. After the connection static cleared, she continued on rapid-firing her life story up until now. It wasn’t until Tolly mentioned Soren, Blane, and the hunters that plagued her that Miran’s skin started to buzz. Tolly insisted that rescue be sent for Soren and her friend Connor who were now lost somewhere in the fiery wilds, to which Miran offered to dispatch drones to search for them.

  As the rolling mountains and endless smokey treetops gave way to a shallow valley, Miran could make out the Perun floating atop the ashen mud in the central clearing, looking like a mammoth spider struggling to free itself.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Picking up four life signs,” said the pilot as he moved the shuttle closer. Three of the life signs tore through the structure’s levels heading directly toward the fourth.

  “Tolly, if you can, get yourself to a higher point in the structure,” Miran instructed, “We are coming for you.”

  As the bulletin closed, Miran instructed the pilot to hurry. The pilot didn’t argue but pointed out a fresh wildfire that had sprouted near the crawler. Just then, the dormant firecrawler sprang to life. The structure shifted slightly.

  What is she up to? Miran thought.

  As the shuttle approached the upper level of The Perun, Miran couldn’t make out Tolly anywhere. Scanning again, the four life signs were converging at the structure’s center, several levels down from where the shuttle now hovered. Arming herself with a sidearm and a rifle from the shuttle’s store, she leaped out onto the slanted rooftop of the firecrawler’s mud-plastered hull despite objections from her pilot. The shuttle drifted away, keeping Miran in line of sight as she moved slowly across the muddy grating until she slipped into an open hatch and out of sight.

  The interior of the firecrawler was dark and mud-laden, smelling of wet peat. The lighting that did work seemed to exacerbate the smell, heating the mud that obscured them. Miran switched on the torch of her environment suit’s helmet and gripped her rifle. The life signs showed on her helmet’s display, blips popping in and out as they passed behind shielded bulkheads.

  Miran found the liftway and pried the doors open. The lift wasn’t running, so finding the ladder rungs on the inner wall, she leapt down them as quickly as she could manage, urgency driving her.

  Nearing the central crew level, Miran could make out gnashing sounds interspersed with screams of a young woman; she feared she was too late. Rounding the last corner, the gnashing stopped. Miran auto-targeted the two larger life signs that were at rest down the corridor. As if they were waiting for something, Miran could make out the silvery skin of the two monsters, shimmering in the relative dark. They were massive hulks, and Miran knew instantly what they were; the monsters that had once been human citizens.

  Without stopping, Miran charged at the beasts and opened fire. Two shots rang out, aimed directly at the monsters’ skulls. Miran shot twice more for good measure as the hulks dropped to the floor. Now lifeless, Miran leapt over the monsters as she neared a doorway partway down the corridor. Tolly’s screams were increasing in desperation and pitch as Miran stepped into the room. Before her, a black-suited soldier stood with its back to Miran, facing Tolly, where she clung in fear to a bed’s frame.

  “Hey, asshole!” Miran wailed, hoping to get the black suit’s attention. She succeeded, momentarily locking eyes with Tolly as her shrieking halted.

  The soldier turned, raising its arm to Miran just as she ducked out of the room. Miran hustled down the hall, hoping to lure the soldier out with her and taking cover around the corridor corner and into an open doorway. The hauntingly familiar boot steps grew louder as the soldier drew closer.

  As the soldier neared her position, Miran called up a voice recording of herself on her terminal and dropped it to the floor. Knowing that her shots were useless against the soldier’s armoured exterior, she kicked the terminal into an open doorway across the corridor and concealed herself behind cover. As soon as the soldier took the bait, stepping into the room opposite to her own, Miran took aim and fired at the room’s door panel.

  The panel shattered into a shower of sparks, triggering the door to fail closed, trapping the soldier inside.

  Knowing she likely has only minutes before the soldier breaks free, Miran rushed back down the hall toward Tolly. Tolly was just helping herself out of bed with a fractured wrist, moved slowly as she navigated the room’s angled floor. Miran climbed up, meeting her halfway, and took her weight onto hers.

  “I’ve got you,” Miran said, “I’ve got you.”

  Tolly seemed to relax at this and showed just how exhausted she really was. The two of them hurried down the corridor back the way Miran had entered, passing by the soldier’s prison and the loud clangs and reports of gunfire within.

  Miran pushed Tolly to continue on, urging her forward up the several levels to the Perun’s rooftop exterior and to the awaiting shuttle. The two of them hopped in, collapsing to the shuttle compartment floor as the shuttle drifted up and away.

  A few potshots registered on the shuttle’s hull, which Miran assumed was the vengeful soldier finally having freed itself. No matter; they were safe, Tolly was safe. And despite all that had happened in the last few days, Miran was satisfied to count this as a win. Hoisting Tolly into an awaiting seat, Miran buckled her in before dressing the girl’s arm with a brace from the shuttle’s medkit; Tolly drifted to sleep as she did. Taking a similar cue, Miran instructed the pilot to head for The Dream and strapped herself in, fading as well.

  Back aboard The Dream, the last of the shuttles docked just after her own. Miran sat in her shuttle seat, a hand tightly gripping Tolly’s as a frantic Captain Danesh stepped aboard. Raising a finger to her lips to not wake Tolly, Miran urged him to speak.

  He said in a low but sullen voice: “All of the shuttles are onboard, Matriarch. I will be brief, however. A few dignitaries were rescued from the point of the Vasser signal. Also, Soren and a few others were pulled from the research station. The less than golden news is that the enemy stirs once again. Their ships have begun freeing themselves from the earth that buried them. I fear that they will be able to fire upon us momentarily.”

  Miran, elated at the information of Soren’s rescue, couldn’t show it. She was wistful, beaten, and all-around exhausted.

  “Get us out of here, Loreto,” she said before resting her head over Tolly’s and closing her eyes.

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