The night is finally here. The night of the biggest strike we've ever planned. The night we'll show the aliens that we're not just a nuisance, that we're a real threat. I can feel the tension in the air, the anticipation, the fear. We're all on edge, all ready for what's to come.
We gather in the common room, our faces grim, our eyes determined. Arden gives us a final briefing, going over the plan one last time, making sure everyone knows their role, their part. It's a simple plan, but the risks are high. We all know that.
When he's done, we all stand, our weapons in hand, our hearts racing. There's a moment of silence, a moment where we all just look at each other, a silent acknowledgment of what we're about to do. Then, without a word, we move out, splitting into our teams, heading towards our respective targets.
Hestia still isn't ready to go with us, and that... is a comfort to me, even if she's not happy about it. Before I can even make it to the hatch to the lower levels, a blur of black hair darts into me and hugs me.
I catch her in my arms, curling protectively around her. She used to be shorter than me, smaller to the point that I could almost believe she was younger than sixteen. But now she's almost the same size as me.
But still...
"I'm going to be back, Hestia. I promise." I whisper.
She squeezes me tighter, her arms trembling. She doesn't want to let go, and I don't want her to. But I have to. I have to do this.
I gently pull away, cupping her face in my hands. "I'll be okay. I swear." I kiss her forehead, trying to convey all the reassurance I can, all the love and affection I feel for her. "Just... keep the lights on for me, okay?"
She nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I give her one last smile, then turn and walk away, my heart aching. But I can't dwell on it, can't let it distract me. I have a mission to complete.
Alistair is waiting for me outside, the night air cool against my skin. He gives me a nod, his expression serious, focused. I can see the determination in his eyes, the resolve. All that grief, all that softness and vulnerability from a couple of nights ago... is locked behind that iron wall once again.
I get on the cycle behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist. He starts the engine, the rumble vibrating through us, and we speed off into the night.
Our target is a hangar, one of the larger ones in the area. It's where they store their ships, their equipment. We're hitting all the nearby hangars tonight - the only one left is further away, where Maren believes is their main hub. But this one... is definitely the biggest one we're hitting tonight. The others are small, personal hangars for small scouting ships. This one... will have their larger transports. Which means more ships to destroy. And a heavier defense. Which is why I'm the one going in.
It's not exactly the same supply depot that we broke into what feels like... almost a lifetime ago now. But it's structured similarly enough that I know the path through it. I don't need a map, or to stumble through it looking. I can get in and out more quickly than Alistair - which means I can do it before they react. I hope.
I keep my eyes on the road ahead, my mind focused on the task at hand. I can't afford to be distracted, can't afford to let fear or doubt creep in. I have to be sharp, alert. Lives depend on it.
The hangar looms ahead, a large, imposing structure against the night sky. There are guards, of course, patrolling the perimeter. But we're ready for them. We have a plan, a strategy.
Alistair slows the cycle, stopping a safe distance away. I get off, my weapon in hand, my heart pounding. I can feel his eyes on me, his presence a comforting weight at my back. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.
"Sarah." He whispers, and when I look at him, he catches my lips in a kiss.
My eyes widen in surprise, and then close, leaning into it. It's not... a romantic moment. It's not filled with heat, or love, or anything like that. It's... more like a seal. A pact. A promise. We're in this together, we'll see this through. Together.
He pulls away, his forehead resting against mine for just a moment. "I'll be here." He murmurs. "When you get back. And if you make me wait I'll tear this whole fucking place apart and drag you back myself." He smiles a little, though there's a shadow of something dark in his eyes.
My hand touches his cheek. "You won't lose me." I promise.
"I know."
We share one last look, and then I'm moving, slipping away into the darkness, towards the hangar. I move silently, my steps light, my body low. I can see the guards, their forms silhouetted against the hangar's lights. I wait, timing my movements, waiting for the right moment.
Then, I see it. An opening, a gap in their patrol. I make my move, darting forward, my body pressed against the wall of the hangar. It's the same run I made... the same thing last time I infiltrated the hangar. This time I'm alone, and... for some reason, this time there's no fear. Just certainty. I know that if I'm caught, I'll die. And yet...
I'm not afraid.
I reach the door, my fingers finding the control panel. It's locked, of course, but Maren gave us all a tool to override it. I still can't read a damn thing. Can't speak a word. But with this, I don't need to. It's something that Sinead would have...
I swallow, pushing down that thought. I have to. All of those. I can't.... think about any of that. Not here, not now. Especially not here. I stick the tool into the panel, my fingers moving quickly, efficiently. The lock disengages with a soft click, and I slip inside, the door closing silently behind me.
I feel like I've been holding my breath. The inside of the hangar is just as I remember, the smell of oil and metal, the sight of ships looming in the darkness. I move quickly, my feet silent on the concrete floor. I have to place the charges at key points, strategic locations where they'll do the most damage. It's a delicate task, one that requires precision, focus. I can't afford to make a mistake.
Just like last time there are no guards inside the hangar. For whatever reason, there weren't any outside of it, either. Which is good, because it means I have extra decoy explosives I can use if I need. Or if there's more things that need to be destroyed than we expected.
I stay crouched, just in case, but move as quickly as I can. The moons in the night sky above the hangar cause my shadow to stretch and twist around me, and I feel like I'm in some surreal horror movie.
It takes me ten minutes, maybe eleven, to place all the charges. I work quickly, my hands steady, my mind clear. When I'm done, I make my way back to the door, my heart still pounding, my body thrumming with adrenaline.
The safest path... the smart one. It's to wait until I'm outside the hangar until I set the explosions off. The only problem is, I'm certain that guard change is done by now. My exit is blocked, even if I can't see that it is right now.
I can climb the wall. There's a place I can leap off of it to the cliffside where Alistair will be waiting. Not far enough to hurt myself, I think. It's much more direct. Safer to escape that way if I have to set off the charges to give myself an opening. The only problem with that, is the guards are on the wall above me.
I don't know... any of their patterns. And I don't know when the guards will return to outside the hangar. If I don't make a move soon, I'll be trapped here. And then Alistair will have to risk himself to come get me, and there's no telling what will happen. We need all the hangars gone tonight if it's going to work at all. I can't risk us missing this one.
So there's... only one choice.
I duck into a nearby alcove. It's hidden from the walking path by a stack of crates, and shield from the blast by the wall of some sturdy warehouse. It's not ideal. But it's the best I've got. I wish I could tell Alistair what I was doing, not to worry when the explosion goes off... but the reality is even if I could, that man would only come rushing faster if he knew my situation. I can't. Let him do that.
I hit the switch.
The explosion is deafening, the heat intense, the force of it nearly knocking me off my feet. I cover my head, my body curling in on itself, as the world seems to shake around me.
When the noise starts to fade, I hear shouting.
I don't hesitate. I can't. I burst out of cover.
They've come running. I expected that. I knew that would happen. But I didn't expect how much the explosion would have damaged the hangar. It's... I can't see shit. The dust and the fire and smoke make it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of me. The guards... there are about five of them. And they're looking around, confused, disoriented.
Which is good, because it means I know they're there, and they don't know I am. I raise my weapon, and start firing.
The first guard goes down without a sound, his body crumpling to the floor. The others react, turning towards me, their weapons raised. But I'm already moving, already firing. I take down another, then another. They're not prepared for this, not ready for an attack from inside the hangar, in the middle of the chaos. They're off balance, and I use that to my advantage.
I've never been the best at aiming. But that's at a distance. This is close quarters. It's not about precision, it's about speed, about aggression. And I've got plenty of that.
The last guard falls, his body hitting the ground with a thud. I'm breathing hard, my body shaking with the aftershocks of the fight, the adrenaline. But I don't have time to recover, don't have time to process. I can hear more footsteps, more guards approaching. I have to move.
I turn to run, to make my escape. As I burst out of the dust cloud, my feet skid to a stop.
I stare. My chest is so tight that I can't breathe. My hands are shaking.
I haven't seen him in nearly a year.
He hasn't changed. His hair is still that messy black. His eyes are that steely grey.
Eric.
He's standing there, his weapon raised, his expression blank. It's... that look. The one that I see every time I'm in the dark. When I close my eyes. I thought... I'd made peace with it, with him. But I guess not. Seeing him again, like this... it's like a punch to the gut, a knife to the heart. It's like my heart's stopped. I can't breathe.
My hands...
I'm pointing my gun at him. I did it automatically, before I'd realized who he was. It's pointed right at his chest. His eyes aren't looking at it. He's looking at me.
They're not cold. They're not. Empty. Just... calm. That's all I can think to describe it as.
I can't move. My body won't respond, my mind a whirlwind of emotions, of thoughts. I don't know what to do, what to think. I just... I just stand there, staring at him, my weapon raised, my heart breaking.
I don't... I don't want to shoot. But I can't put my gun down.
He raises his gun. So smooth. So calm.
I need to...
I have to shoot him. I have to... to run at least. Maybe just shoot. Something nearby, something to distract him. I can't move my hands. Can't will my fingers to move.
His grey eyes are everything I remember.
"Eric...."
My words are a whisper in the air. A sob torn from somewhere deep inside I thought I'd locked away. My vision is blurry, my throat is raw.
He looks...like nothing. He doesn't respond. It's like he doesn't even recognize his name. And-
A gasp rips from my throat. His arm. There's a mark. A brand, like what Alistair described. Burned into his skin, stark black against his pale flesh.
The emptiness, the... not knowing me.
He's...
My hands shake. It's just like Alistair said. I don't know how, I don't understand. But he's... emptied. They've scooped everything that is Eric out of him and I...
He's staring at me. The rifle is pointing at me. His finger is on the trigger. He doesn't... he's not Eric anymore. He's a monster. A puppet. He's...
Not shooting.
There's no intensity in his eyes, no grief, no silent plead. But he's... not shooting me.
"Eric..." My voice is strained. A pleading whisper. "I-I'm sorry. I... I'm so sorry..." I don't know why I'm apologizing. I know it's not his fault, and I don't... I don't think he can understand me anyway. But it's all I can think to say.
Maybe I just need to hear his voice one last time.
His eyes narrow the slightest bit. And for a moment - maybe... maybe it's in my mind. The barrel of the rifle starts to lower. I don't know. It's only the slightest moment, a figment of useless hope. Then I hear the sound of many more footsteps running up behind him. He whirls in surprise, and I take the opportunity, lunging for the stairway that leads up the wall. If I can just reach the top...
Gunfire echoes behind me, too close, but I don't stop. I don't look back. I can't. I have to keep moving, have to keep running. I take the steps two at a time, my legs burning, my lungs screaming for air.
I reach the top, my hands gripping the edge of the wall. I pull myself up, my body trembling with exertion, with fear. I'm out in the open, exposed, but I don't care. I have to keep moving, have to get away.
I turn to look down, my heart in my throat. The aliens are there, their weapons raised, their eyes fixed on me. I know I don't have long, know they'll be on me in seconds. But then I see it, see the problem.
The explosion... the explosion broke part of the wall, and the place I needed to get to. It's gone. There's no place to jump to. No easy escape. I'm trapped.
I... really took the one option that got me trapped.
Of course I did.
I look around, my mind racing, trying to find a solution, a way out. But there's nothing, no escape, no salvation. The ground is at least twenty feet - maybe thirty - below me. There's no other convenient cliff faces along the wall. And there's a group of aliens far too large for me to fight on my own bearing down on my position.
I'm... I'm fucked.
My eyes land on a banner, lying on the ground near my feet. It's one of the aliens', their symbol, their mark. I don't even know what the damn thing is supposed to mean. A twisted figure with their arms in the air in what might be a triangle? It's just... some kind of ugly shape. But it's a sign of them, of everything they've done to us.
I feel something twist inside me. Defiance, anger, desperation. I don't know, I can't tell. All I know is that I'm not going down without a fight. Not like this.
I pick up my rifle, my hands shaking, and I fire at the banner. I carve an 'x' into it, my fingers clumsy, my aim off. It's not perfect, but it's something. It's a statement.
I lift the banner, holding it high above my head, and I scream. My voice is raw, breaking with the rage and the force. "Listen to me, you bastards! I'm not afraid of you! I never will be! I am Sarah! I will always be Sarah! I'm a human being, a person, and you can't take that from me!"
My voice echoes across the desert, the sound lost in the wind, the night. But I don't care. If this is the end, then I....
I won't.
I won't die afraid.
"Fuck you! Fuck your stupid empire! Fuck your meaningless symbol! I hope you all burn in hell!"
The aliens are shouting back, their weapons raised. But I don't stop, I can't stop. Not yet. Not until I've said everything, until I've made my stand.
"Do you hear me? I am Sarah! I'm not a fucking thing! I'm not a slave! I am Sarah, and I will never be anything else!"
They're not impressed by my scream. They fire their weapons, and the shots hit the banner. The material burns, disintegrates. I hold on for as long as I can, but then a shot hits my arm, burning, searing pain that makes me cry out. My hand releases the banner automatically, and I stumble back, clutching my arm.
This is it. This is where it ends. I'm going to die here, on this wall, fighting till the last. And maybe... that's okay. It's a better end than I could have hoped for in the camp. I can at least die on my own terms.
"Sarah!" The scream I hear from behind me is as loud as my own had been. I turn, surprised. Alistair is there, on a hovercycle, soaring through the air. He's jumping off the cliff, his hand reaching out for me. "Jump!"
I don't even think. I just move. My legs carry me forward, my body launching into the air. Our hands meet, his grip tight, and then we're falling, the ground rushing up to meet us. Momentum carries me to saddle the bike behind him.
"Hold the hell on, Sarah!" He shouts, as the cycle's engine roars, the repulsors kicking in at the last second. We hover just above the ground, the wind whipping around us, the aliens' shouts fading behind us.
My heart is still racing, my body still shaking. But I'm alive. We're alive. And we're getting away.
I press myself against Alistair's back, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist. I don't say anything, don't trust my voice. I just hold on, my eyes closed, my mind reeling.
He doesn't say anything either, just focuses on driving, on getting us out of there. We speed across the desert, the night a blur around us. And slowly, slowly, my heart rate starts to slow, my breathing evens out. I'm safe. We're safe.
But I... I can't stop seeing his face. Eric's face. That blank, empty stare. The brand on his arm. The way he didn't even recognize me, didn't even react to his name. He's gone. The real Eric, the one I knew, the one I... loved... He's gone.
And I don't know if I'll ever get him back.