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Obsidian’s black eyes roll back. He’s focusing deeply. He rattles off coordinates, and I punch them in instantly and hit the second button to start the jump. Every millisecond counts.

There’s nothing.

Then there are screaming alarm bells and a cracked viewport. A pane of reinforced glass rips in the wind and slices against my shoulder before embedding itself in the chest of an Aurelian technician. We’re nose-diving downwards. The nose of our warship pierces a flaming Org-Ship, burnt from the atmosphere. Scorp roll into the bridge, trapped in their amber cocoons, pulling themselves out of their prisons.

“To arms!” I yell, grabbing my Orb-Blade and activating it as we plummet. A technician stands, reaching for his blade, but blood spits from his nostrils in steady streams. He stumbles, falls, and twitches. The jump was too much for him.

“Scorp! They’re in the bridge!”

I force myself forward, my combat boots hard against the floor, but the wind presses me back. Through the ruined viewport and the huge husks of burning white organic matter, I see the ground below. We’re high above a planet. There is a city below, it’s anti-air batteries firing in a steady drum. I take a huge breath, tasting the thinness of high atmosphere.

I force myself to the left, grabbing a triad of shield technicians who were monitoring our defenses. None of them are moving. They stare blankly forward. “Regus!” I yell, slapping one on the back of his head. “Move all power to front shields! All fucking power! Now!”

His hand shakes as he keys in the command, and I pray he understood, because we’re about to smash the front of our ship into the ground. The Scorp are waking. They don’t care where they are, as long as there is fresh prey.

I grin like a madman. The lust of battle rushes through my veins. The Scorp move slow at first, sluggish from the long stasis in their cocoons, but they gain strength. I put myself between them and the technicians, hoping to buy them enough time to get the shields active.

I charge. I slam my Orb-Blade into the chest of the first Scorp, the rain of green-red blood spewing out as I get its heart. The second pulls itself from its amber prison, its claws clacking as it sidesteps. It towers over me, a big beast that has lived endless years at war.

So have I.

I turn, feeling the sticky sap of the amber in my hair from the swipe of his claw, ducking under the scything death of his swing and cutting his legs off. As he falls, I jam my blade into its brain.

Reinforcements are coming. I hear them behind me, and loyal triads rush forward, fighting desperately on the bridge as we plummet, faster and faster.

I turn. “What’s the status on the engines?”

“Everything’s offline, sir!” A young technician’s voice breaks as he lays out the status.

“Fuck! Fuck! Shields?”

Regus looks up at me. “They’re not working,” he says, and the console goes blank. The lights turn off. A flaming piece of organic matter flies past me, beautiful in its chaos.

“Abandon the bridge! Everyone! To the back of the ship!” I yell, leading us through the hallways. The anti-gravity malfunctions, and I’m thrown backwards, towards the doors. I keep my Orb-Blade in front of me, and cut through the heavy door with laborious swings, then pull myself through. The other Aurelians are running down the hallways, trying not to panic, fleeing to the back of the ship where they will have the most chance to survive. The shield technicians abandon their post, the console useless with the link to the main Orb-Drives broken.

The wind is pushing me backwards, but I fight back into the bridge. I activate my Orb-Blade and drive it deep into the armored ground, pulling myself forward, then deactivating the energy weapon so that only the black metal is in the scorched ground. I jam my hand into the hole, holding on tight, and activate my weapon again, pulling myself painfully towards the shield console.

The wind is whipping around me, and I prepare myself for impact. The ground is looming larger and larger in front of me, but if I can’t get those shields up, we’re all dead.

“Orr! Ra’al! Get to the back, we’re falling fast!”

“The shields. Get the shields up,”orders Ra’al. Somehow, his aura is calm.

“Offline!”

“Try!”

I shake my head and pull myself back to where I came. A Scorp flies hard and cracks against the back wall, shattering, as Aurelians flee under my command. I’m the only one left in the bridge. The wind screams through my ears.

Fuck, fuck fuck.

I grit my teeth. We’re plummeting. Everything is all wrong, but I grab a chair that’s bolted to the ground, pulling myself to a console. It’s black, no energy. I slam my hands against it in frustration and look out the front of the ship.

The ground is rushing up, and I imagine the peace that will be mine when I’m obliterated.

That peace is not for me.

Not yet.