Ryuki Warrior for Others

Ryuki Warrior

Eric Patton

Chapter 1

Ortega Family

The air was thick. My drink was thicker. But the burn in my throat was barely an escape from the sweltering heat permeating every inch of this godforsaken city.

I was alone in the bar, except for the solitary bartender steadily drying glasses. He was a small man, in width and in stature; a perfect fit for the modest room I found myself in. It was no luxury by any stretch of the imagination, haphazard dugout walls smattered with amateur paintings and the sandstone floor covered by a worn out rug. Still, it was as good as any when it came to drinks, which is why I sat where I was, suffering the heat. I was waiting.

I didn’t have to wait long for them to arrive: five of them, bursting through the opening with explosive energy and quickly spilling into a table against the wall. The bartender was unphased; they were regulars. Instead, I watched as he quietly prepared some drinks, leaving them on the bar table one after the other to be snatched up in the end by his impatient patrons. I watched them retreat to the table in my periphery, laughing and shouting and teasing each other.

It was a celebration, I realized. As four of them cheered and guffawed, one sat shyly between them, smiling sadly while being jostled by the rest. Whatever they were celebrating, he was not so keen on it. I made mental note and turned back to my drinks. I could not help listening in on their conversation.

“Still, I can’t believe it. Five for four! Now that’s a job,” one of them sang.

“Nothing less to expect from our boy, now, Horus. I always had faith.”

“Faith!” Horus howled. “You used to mock Carter here ‘till the sun came up. You thought he’d be dead in week, when he first joined us.”
There was a scowl in response, but no denial.

“Regardless, you’ve proved yourself by now, kid,” a third man chimed in. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a promotion sometime soon. How long has it been, nine years?”

“Eight,” came Carter’s reply, who I assumed to be the unenthused man sat between them. He had seemed about my age: early twenties, at the youngest. “Do you think,” he coughed, speaking up for the first time. “About Alisa…”

They went silent for a moment; I could only guess at their expressions.

Finally, one of them spoke up. “Ugh, listen, Carter. You know that’s not up to us. You can talk to the boss, but…”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” another of them finished.

Interesting. I could tell enough from the conversation that their boss had some kind of leverage on Carter, leverage in the form of Alisa, whoever that may. But, regardless, my mission remained the same. I could not worry about the individual circumstances of all of my targets, because at the end of the day, one thing was true.

They were criminals. Robbers. Murderers. Kidnappers. Thugs. Members of the local gang outpost of Ortega Family, one of the great space syndicates which terrorized the spiral. On Alcaeus, a planet famous for its artists, they usually dealt in smuggling. But high art was hard to come by in the slums of Salabar, a city half carved into the sandstone and the rest cobbled together from metal scraps and fraying tarp. Which meant that the only business Ortega had here was theft and extortion. And from what I had heard, their business had been booming recently, apparently having discovered some talent which was boosting their revenue one way or the other.

Which is how I had found my way to Alcaeus, a planet which at the moment was attempting to burn me alive. Luckily I, never one to give way to discomfort, was able to tough it out, sitting through the oppressive heat as the hooligans behind me became steadily more plastered. At the same time, I eased off the alcohol. I needed to be sober for what came next.

The night dragged long before they finally left the bar. Whatever daylight that found its way into the opening had faded, giving way to the golden hue of the electric lights within. The five men stumbled out of the bar’s opening and into the narrow street outside, a channel carved deep into the sandstone plains long ago until it could be used today as a passageway to the poorest of places and people. I followed them outside.

The air thickened more outdoors, even as the sky darkened with the setting sun. I gritted my teeth and scanned the shadowy channel for my targets. I spotted them quickly, loud and stumbling towards the outer slums. Maintaining my distance, I began to trail them in silence. My mission was almost upon me.

The sandstone channels were deserted at this time of night, their meager residents breaking from their daily toil to retreat within their carved out homes. The history of the place was apparent in the worn down path beneath my feat and the canopy of laundry ropes and wires strung above me. Some walls were covered in massive carved murals, curling down the channels and tumbling over doorways, magnificent in details but fading with age. Although one of the poorest cities in Alcaeus, Salabar still managed a respect for art and beauty, and what few passerbys there were covered their faces in an extravagant mural of vivid blue and yellow paint. I even saw one woman with a face mod; metallic gold veins streaking across her cheekbones.

Soon enough, the channels of the older Inner Salabar gave way to the newer, quickly growing Outer Salabar, the tall Sandstone walls opening to a maze of shacks haphazardly constructed out of scrap metal and plastic, which were in turn painted and draped in colorful tarps in an attempt to hide the rust and scratches. Here, the sunset shown bright across the metal rooftops, the two suns casting gold beneath a purple and pink sky. I had to squint away the beauty to resume my task; the drunk men in front of me were not phased by their beautiful planet.

After enough time winding our way through the maze of interlocking pathways and singlefile alleys, we finally came upon a large warehouse. We were towards the edge of the city, in a transport district used to ship in whatever imported food the city could afford. The warehouse was one of many: nondescript and monochromatic, a simple structure made from sheets of gray stone. The men approached the entrance, which was guarded by two lounging bouncers, who recognized the five on sight. They made their way inside without so much as a word.

I pondered my first move. There was no telling what was inside that building, and with no windows or other visible doors there weren’t many options for an entrance either. I sighed. It looked like I was going to have to do this the hard way. I turned on my shields and pulled out the sword hidden on my back, moving swiftly toward the entrance.

I was only a few paces away when the bouncers finally noticed my gleaming sword and purposeful stride. It would be quite clear what my intentions were. One of them scrambled for their gun, the other turned around to open the door behind her, likely to raise the alarm. I spun around, feeling power rush down my arm and into my hand as I raised my sword and used the momentum to cut their heads off in a single strike. I sick crunch followed by two muted thuds followed, leaving my sword dripping with blood. I did not clean it yet. There would be more blood to come.

Without hesitation, I flung the door open, finally exposing the innards. The room was littered with gang members, some seated at a table playing cards while hung by the walls to watch an ongoing sparring match. Across one wall there was a massive collection of weapons and burlap sacks, likely filled with stolen or extorted capital. The buzz of conversation in the room began to die out as the first few people noticed me. I jumped at them, pulling my sword into an overhead swing to slash the first across the chest, then spinning with the momentum and crouching on the floor to slice through my next opponents legs. They both let out curdling screams, finally alerting everyone in the building of my sudden attack.

Immediately a number of gunshots went off, both in laser and metal variety. They both burned up harmlessly in my shield. A surge of people ran for me, closing in on all sides. I swept three daggers from my belt and swung them out, releasing each just in time to lodge them in a new throat. Then I leapt forward, moving fast and ruthless, cutting through each gang member in front of me and dodging the attack from the sides to slice a line through the oncoming hoard. Those in the back were caught off guard, and I made quick work of nearly a dozen unprepared assailants. Now my enemies were coming mostly from behind, and I spun around to see a crowd of people charging me. I hoisted my sword, ready to fend them off.

Just then, another gunshot went off. I was unconcerned, continuing in my slaughter.

“Carter!” a shout rang out, one of disbelief. I had no time to consider it, still slashing through attacker after attacker. There were many of them- a pile had begun to grow around me- but the crowd was finally starting to thin. More shots rang out, and I could swear some of the enemies fell with them. The last of them came at me with renewed vigor, whether as a last hope or to avenge their fallen comrades, it didn’t matter. I cut them down just the same.

At the end, all that was left were bodies and cowards, lying dead on the floor or shaking fearfully against the wall. I quickly surveyed my surroundings for any lagging attacks, but didn’t see any. For now, at least, my onslaught was finished.

It was then that I noticed the man with the gun. I recognized him quickly as Carter from the bar, Carter who had just recently been congratulated on some gang related accomplishment. I narrowed my eyes.

Carter dropped his gun without hesitation, holding his hands up in a sign of peace. He was a plain man, my age or younger, dressed in ragged clothes as typical of the slums. The only mark of distinction he had was a clean leather belt strung around his waist, covered in empty gun holsters. So he was a marksman.

“I’m on your side,” he started, voice shaking. I sighed. So he was a coward, like the rest of them. “I- I helped you! With the- with your fight!” Carter gestured to some of the men on the ground, men who I realized had fallen not from cuts but from bullet wounds. So it was true then, at least that he had sided with me. Still, I was suspicious.

“Why.” I stared him down, compelling him to tell the truth. I could read the fear plain on his face. He hesitated for a bit, casting quick glances to the remaining gang members in the room. Humoring him, I slid a number of daggers from my pocket and spun, flinging them around the room to dispatch those left. I turned back to him, but strangely enough he did not seem to be comforted by my actions.

Finally, Carter spoke up. “I was never here by choice. I… They threatened Alisa, and… I couldn’t… there was no other way.”

He was rambling, but I understood what was going on. For whatever reason, he’d been blackmailed into joining the gang, and he saw this as his chance to escape. An unfortunate situation, to be sure. It did not forgive his crimes.

I lifted my sword. His eyes widened. “Wait! I- I’m sure they’ve called back up! I can help! I can-” I only raised one eyebrow. He looked to the bodies strewn at my feet. “Okay, so you don’t need help. Uh… but… Oh! I know things! About Ortega, I know things.” I lowered my sword, hesitant but curious.

“What?” I asked. If it wasn’t enough I would kill him on the spot.

Carter’s eyes lit up with hope. “Th- Their headquarters! I know where their headquarters is! I overheard it one time…” he began rambling nervously about his boss and eavesdropping, but I was finally interested.

“Where?” I cut him off. He stopped, remembering himself. A shy smile covered his face.

“Republic,” he said. “On Icarus.”

Republic. Of course it would be there. Republic, a shorthand for the Free Republic of Icarus, had been lawless for nearly half a century, inhabited by all manner of gangs and syndicates, all clustered together in one dense city. It maintained its status as the only free city on a PA controlled planet for the sole reason that no one wanted claim over it anyway. Even the eternally greedy Planetary Assembly would turn a blind eye to a place housing only the worst in the galaxy.

Still, the information was good. I slid my sword back into its sheath, and nodded once, signaling that I was satisfied. Carter let out a sigh of relief. I turned around, making for the entrance.

“Wait!” Carter shouted. I stopped and gritted my teeth. He was really pushing his luck. Still, I waited without moving as he gathered the courage to continue. “T- Take me with you!”

And there it was. It had not been my first offer for companionship, nor did I expect it to be the last. In the course of wiping out as many syndicates as I could, it was nature that some expressed some gratitude and wanted to follow a similar path. Many wanted me to teach them swordsmanship. But I knew I would be a terrible companion, much less a teacher. Friends… didn’t suit me.

But just as I was about to turn him down, he blurted out “You’ll need me.” I whipped around to face him, wondering what could possibly possess him to think that. He swallowed, than continued. “Even if you get to Republic, you won’t know where Ortega is, and no offense, but…” he glanced over me. “…I don’t think anyone will be inclined to help you out.”

It dawned on me that I was wearing a black sleeveless jumper (good for movement) which was covered in dirt and blood. Besides a belt loaded with knives and my sword, it also carried a number of pockets which housed a litany of useful weapons and utilities. I knew it wasn’t the most discrete choice of clothing, but it certainly didn’t betray the intimidation methods of intel gathering that I was most partial to.

I opened my mouth to say as much, but Carter kept going. “On Republic, things are different. There are spies, connections. Over there, everyone’s a criminal. You need someone who’s already inside. You need me.”

He was desperate, I could see that. He also wasn’t wrong. I’d always avoided Republic for precisely the reason he just mentioned. Everyone was a criminal. The city itself was basically a criminal. Why bother cleaning the trash out of a garbage dump? But… if the massive Ortega crime syndicate was really headquartered in such a place, would it really be so bad to have an in?

I sighed and rubbed my head, ruffling the tight bun my black hair was pulled into. I considered Carter one last time. He had the clothes of a gunner, and the past of a criminal, but the eyes of a decent man. I closed my eyes, already regretting my decision. “Fine,” I said. Carter broke out into a smile. I just shook my head.

“Pick up your gun,” I said. “They’ll be here soon.”

I couldn’t have been more right, as it wasn’t a few more minutes until a fresh stream of Ortega drones spilled through the doorway. Luckily, this time around we had the same advantage which had made it so difficult for me to attack in the first place. A single entrance, funneling every opponent one by one through the doorway. Carter made quick work of shooting them down, until they finally realized what was going on and stopped to strategize.
That was when I made my move, charging out the door and into the surprised mob outside. I’d cut through half of them before they were ready to fight back, and by then- with Carter backing me up- they didn’t stand a chance.

It was the middle of the night by then, with only the vibrant stars to illuminate the now quiet transport district. They reflected off the pool of blood which was seeping down the rocky street. I stood still for a while, as I often did at the end of a job, contemplating. Five years, I had been doing this. Taking down branch after branch of the criminal underworld. There was no end to them. I often wondered, in my sleepless nights, whether I was having any effect at all.

“You’re very impressive with your sword,” Carter said, pulling me out of my trance. I turned to him. I suppose I had had an effect on him.
I took this time to clean my sword, pulling out of my many pockets a handkerchief which been long blackened by dried blood and wiping it along the blade. “I learned from a young age,” I said, content to leave it at that.

Carter was of a different mind. “As did I,” he said, gesturing with his gun. I recalled the conversation from the bar, that he’d been part of the gang for eight years. “It’s terrible, to… well, whenever I have to… But still. I take pride in it.” It was a dangerous game, to kill for the love of the craft. I didn’t say as much. It hit too close to home.

“Let’s go,” I said finally, storing my sword once more and taking off down the street, boots squelching in the blood and bodies left decaying in a pile. Carter followed without a word.

There was no good way to leave planet from Salabar, it being the slum that it was, which meant that we first needed to visit a larger city, where we could then hitch a ride on some Freight Carrier, like most who couldn’t afford Passenger Carriers tended to do. Even if I could afford it, they may take issue with the fact that I’m technically dead in the eyes of the government.

Unfortunately, Alcaeus, lacking a Hyperloop system like most other planets, was only traversable by car. It was certainly a good thing that I had stolen one on my way here.

It was only a ten minute walk to the car, one we made in silence as we carefully navigated through the dark streets. Every now and then we could hear the shifting of sleeping Alcaeans, or the footsteps of a rare insomniac strolling by. At some point, Carter made a call to Alisa, something about getting out of the city and laying low. We didn’t talk about it.

The stars were my only indication of direction, and I relied on them to reach the dilapidated shed where I’d left my stolen vehicle. I pulled up the large rusted door on the front, its squeaks penetrating the silence.

Carter gasped. Inside sat a brand new, practically shining trigger car. Gravity defying trigger cars weren’t new, but they certainly weren’t cheap either.

“Where did you get this,” Carter breathed. I gave him a look. Surely he didn’t need me to answer that. Although conspicuous, expensive cars had a clear advantage. Their owners could afford to lose them.

They were also very fast, which Carter found out as soon as we got in, the car turning on for us automatically when it recognized the id chip I’d dug out of the car’s owner. A console lit up at the front, and I quickly entered a navigation to Treim. With a dull hum, the car gently lifted off the ground and began speeding towards its destination. Satisfied, I sat on one of the two couches lining either side of the car, Carter having already taken the other one. We had been silent now, and he was avoiding eye contact.

I was about to turn to look out the window when Carter spoke up.

“So,” he said. “Tell me about yourself.”

I stared at him. What did he want? I didn’t know the last time I’d been asked that question. I didn’t know if I ever had. What was there to know about myself? What would be interesting? Frankly, I’d been doing the same thing for several years now. I scrutinized Carter’s face, trying determine what he wanted to hear. After a long enough time, Carter said “I’ll go first.”

“Well… I’m a sniper. As you know. Not by choice, I mean not initially. But honestly, for a while, it was just something I was doing. The training, I mean. But it was different when it was real. So different.” He sighed. “You made it look so easy.”

I stared at him, then looked at the ground.

“Ah! I didn’t mean… uh,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I just mean you’re impressive, is all. Fearless.”

“Bravery is foolishness. Fear is wisdom.” I recited the phrase I’d been taught, that had been drilled into my skull. Then I blinked away memories of my own training.

“Yeah, I guess.” He was silent for a moment. “Well, I’m from Salabar. Lived here all my life, for better or worse. Used live in the channels, until Ortega picked me up.” He waited a moment. “So… where are you from?”

“Atropos,” I said. There was no good answer to the city I was from. The homes I had had were both too many and too few.

“Hmm,” Carter nodded. It was a common reaction for an unnoteworthy planet.

“My mom knew someone who’d been to Atropos, they-”

A jerk rattled the car around us. I turned sharply towards the windows. There was nothing there.

Another jerk, and this time I heard a loud thud. Carter joined me at the windows. His eyes widened a little. I scrutinized the landscape, trying to see what he saw.

The suns had continued setting, only the faintest red hue still emanating over the horizon. The land itself was dark and barren, empty except for the occasional towering rock formation which cast long shadows over the rough rocky ground. Here are there were the silhouettes of squat cacti, several of them shaking slightly in the wind…

Then I saw it. Barely a smudge of gray and brown in the darkness, it was only noticeable by the debris it was whipping up beneath. A sandstorm. And as I looked closer, it seemed to be covering the entire horizon.

Another rock pelted our car.

“We’re going to die,” Carter said. Then he laughed, a high pitched disbelieving laugh. “We’re going to die from a sandstorm.”
I turned to him. Surely he was overreacting. “We’re not-” even as I started talking, three more rocks rattled against our car. I stopped for a bit. “How do we escape it?”

Carter shook his head. “You take shelter. Underground, or in a channel.”

Despite myself, I was starting to get a little nervous. “And if we can’t do either of those? If we’re on the rocks? How do escape a sandstorm from the rocks?”

Carter looked at me with hopeless eyes. “Never go on the rocks when a sandstorm’s coming. You either never go… or never come back.”
I was silent. Then I gritted my teeth and looked out the window again, head spinning. There had to be some way out this. Even if no one had done it before, I could always be the first. Then I had an idea.

“Could we go above it?”

Carter already looked defeated. “The car will never make it that high.”

“Even a trigger car?”

He furrowed his brow a bit, then shook his head. “The storm is too tall.”

I stared at it, the dark swarm that was getting closer. The rocks were still hitting us, a constant barrage of collisions shaking the car. I peered at the top of the storm. As Carter had said, it seemed impossibly tall, seeming to stretch right into the dark sky above us.

But… there was something else. I squinted my eyes, hope coursing through me. Around me, the shaking was getting more violent. Carter was breathing heavier. But I had just found our refuge.

It was a carrier, a massive cargo ship capable of interstellar travel. Our ticket off the planet and, hopefully, out of the massive storm that was enveloping us. It was far, a tiny cylinder on the edge of the storm, but it was there. I quickly jumped into the driver's seat, disengaging the autopilot and taking over the controls. Luckily, this wasn’t my first time commandeering a trigger car.

I fiddled with the gravity settings until we were quickly ascending in height. Carter shrieked as he was forced to the ground with the pressure. Navigating through the control panel on the car’s touch screen, a finally opened the steering wheel. The cargo ship was closer to the sandstorm, so I whipped the car around to face it and started pushing headfirst into the ominous dark which was approaching us.

“What are you doing!? You- stop! You’re going to kill us!” Carter had peeled himself off the ground and was trying to pull me from the controls. I shrugged him off and kept focusing. I needed to get us to that carrier. Most of them had shells thick enough to easily withstand a sandstorm, regardless of the ferocity. But the world outside the windows was growing darker, both as the sunlight fully slipped out of view and as the swirl of dust and sand began to envelop us.

A rock shot into the windshield, lodging itself there and sending cracks through the glass. Carter jumped back and stopped trying to convince to turn back. Instead he started muttering to himself in the seat behind me.

I kept my mind focused on the carrier, now barely more than a blur. It seemed to be getting larger, but I didn’t know how much longer this car would hold out. Desperate to maintain vision, I turned on the car’s headlights. They illuminated something even more terrifying.

No more than a kilometer in front of us, approaching with rapid speed, was a solid wall of black, complete oblivion here to suck us out of existence. Horrified, I pushed the gravity of our trigger car down until we were nearly massless, the buoyancy of the atmosphere launching us higher with ridiculous speed and forcing both Carter and I onto the floor.

Even from where I was flattened on the floor of the car, I could see the ominous wall. I hardened myself and tried to get up. The force was incredible. It felt like I was carrying a moon on my back. I had to grip onto the dashboard with all my might just to hoist myself back into the chair in front of the controls. There was a blinking red light on the screen. We were nearly out of power.

Shouting in frustration, I did the only thing I could think of and pushed the car at full power towards the ever-nearing carrier, now big enough to fill a quarter of my vision. We shot forward once again, Carter being flung to the back of the car and crying out in pain. The wall of black was still approaching. Soon it would pass the carrier and then we would have no chance of reaching it. I looked back at the battery indicator. It was decreasing at alarming speed. 5%… 4%… 3%…

“Carter!” I yelled, straining to be heard over the ceaseless rumble of rocks against our car. Dents were starting to form on the car’s metal housing.

“What!?” came his delayed reply.

“Do you have any explosives!?”

Carter strained to turn towards me, shock and confusion on his face. “What!?!”

“DO YOU HAVE ANY EXPLOSIVES?” A loud beep rang out from the dashboard, indicating we’d run out of battery and were moving to emergency backup power. There was a short pause while I waited for Carter to answer.

“Yes!” was his reply. Another rock shot into the windshield, nearly shattering it. Without thinking, I jumped out of the driver’s seat and fell towards the back of the car, landing heavily with a pang of metal. Carter was fumbling to extract something from a pocket, so I, with great effort against the constant pressure of acceleration, pulled my sword from the sheath on my back, gripped it with two hands, blade pointed towards the back of the car, and with a yell and a burst of energy stabbed a hole in the metal housing which sheltered us from the elements.

The noise was deafening. Wind and sand exploded into the small space, whipping our clothes around and throwing dust into my eyes. Carter produced a spherical bundle of metal and wires about the size of his fist and struggled to hand it to me. Another loud beeping sounded from the control panel as the car began to depressurize at the high altitude. Suddenly the hole in the car was sucking air out instead of pushing it in. Finally betting it all on one last chance, I activated the bomb and shoved it out of the hole.

“Get ready!” I shouted, the wind tearing away my words. Carter gave a stiff and labored nod. A moment later, the bomb exploded.

The shockwave punched me in the chest, throwing me and the car forward at ridiculous speeds. I heard the start of the explosion before it was fully replaced by a loud ringing in my ears. Through the windshield, the carrier was now taking up the full view, and we were headed for impact. I needed to act fast.

Defeaned by the bomb, it was all I could to motion to Carter at the chairs before launching myself with all my effort towards the front of the car. I could see the carrier racing closer and closer in front of us. Finally, I got hold of the seat and flung myself into it, then fumbled with the seatbelt until I got it fully secured over me. Besides me, I saw Carter had done the same. By now we were seconds away from hitting the carrier. I reached deep under the seat and pulled the lever hidden there.

We were launched upward. The ceiling of the car opened up, and we were catapulted into the turbulent air, sand pelting my face and low oxygen tearing at my throat. It was all I could do to stay conscious. Cracking my eyes open amidst the sand, I could see us flying over the carrier, just barely missing a collision. Below us, the car rammed into the carrier in an explosion of metal and debris that likely would have killed has had the wind not carried away the shrapnel.

We had narrowly escaped death, but now the hard part had begun. We were high in the atmosphere with no discernable tools and not enough oxygen. We had to get into that ship, one way or the other.

Just as I had that thought, we began slowing in ascent, until finally we came to a stop… and starting falling downward. Sparing a glance below, I could barely make out the outline of the carrier over a backdrop of solid gray beneath it. Worse still, the wall of black that was the full sandstorm had finally reached the carrier, and was racing across its length.

A bit below me, there was a flash of light, and I looked over to see that Carter’s seat had deployed a parachute, and he was decelerating quickly. There was only a split second to realize that mine hadn’t deployed.

In a smooth motion, I flung a knife out of my pocket, cut my seatbelt off of myself and kicked upward and off of it in the direction of Carter, arms outstretched to catch him.

I just barely made it, hands latched on to the side of his chair, the speed difference yanking at my arms and tilting his chair to the side before the parachute righted it again. Carter reached down to offer me a hand, but I waved him away. We wouldn’t be in this position much longer. Both the carrier below and the sandstorm in front of us were getting closer by the second. We had to find a way to get inside the carrier before the storm reached us. Luckily, this wasn’t my first time hitching a ride.

From position dangling off the side of Carter’s seat, I scanned the surface of the carrier, squinting my eyes to make out the details in the darkness.

There, barely visible, was a small indented square. An access port.

The ringing in my eyes had begun to fade, so I shouted to Carter “We need to get there!” and pointed at the port.

He followed my gaze, then looked up at the parachute for a moment, looking back at me and nodding. Then he grabbed the straps of the parachute and pulled, tilting us to the side and setting us on a slow course to the access point. Too slow.

I pulled myself higher on the seat until I could reach Carter’s waist and grabbed a gun from one of his many holsters. He gave a look of surprise before seemingly deciding to trust me and refocusing on his task. Making sure the gun was loaded with the safety off, I pointed it straight up and began firing.

The recoil was jarring, but I was careful to place the holes symmetrically so we could still maneuver, and soon my efforts paid off as our descent picked up speed. I couldn’t tell if it would be enough. Looking over, I could the sandstorm nearly upon us, although the night had become so dark it was difficult to see anything. The winds were picking up again as we descended towards the carrier. I tried to guess how soon we could cut the parachute without breaking any bones on landing.

Just then, a large rumble sounded from beneath us. The carrier was preparing to leave. Time was running out on all fronts. The surface of the carrier beneath us began to slip away, perpendicular to the oncoming sandstorm. We were going to miss the access port.

Carter did all he could and yanked on the parachute straps, putting his full weight on them until we began racing forward, barely outpacing the carrier beneath us. We were nearly to the surface now, just a few more meters and we’d be able to jump. I looked over- and the sandstorm was right there.

“JUMP!” I just barely managed to scream before the storm whipped across us. I let go of the chair and Carter jumped off of it and we were buffeted by the winds before being slammed against the carrier surface. I scrambled against the weathered metal panels below, looking for purchase. The world had gone completely dark, and sand was pelting me from every direction as I tumbled across the roof of the ship.

Finally, my fingers slipped into the crack of some metal grating. The force jolted me and pulled at my body until the metal bit into my skin, but I could do nothing but hang on for dear life.

I shouted out for Carter, once, twice, but either my words had been fully stolen by the storm or he wasn’t close enough to hear me. I had no chance of trying to reach the access port without any visibility or mobility. All I could do was hang on, and try not to breath in the sand despite not having enough oxygen. My loose clothes whipped at my body. The fine grains of sand assaulted my eyes. My starving lungs pulled at my chest. I hung on.

Finally, the carrier began rising, forcing my body against its roof with the change in momentum. I couldn’t see anything yet, but the wind seemed to be weakening slightly. We kept rising, picking up speed. I realized it would be even harder to breathe as we got higher, so I started taking as many breaths as I could, inhaling sand with it. The carrier picked up speed until finally, finally, the completely vanished and we emerged above the sandstorm.

The view was beautiful. With the vast carrier beneath me, all I could see was the massive sky stretching above me, stars spattering the sky in a glorious collage. The air around me was still, silent, but it was also starting to cool rapidly. If I didn’t act fast I might die of hypothermia before suffocating in the low oxygen.

I looked around frantically for Carter, rubbing my arms to offset the chill racing down them. Eventually, I made out a vague silhouette a few dozen meters away. He was pressed against the carrier, not moving. Struggling to get up against the accelerating ground beneath, I managed to stumble my way towards. Almost falling multiple times. I was starting to shiver from the cold, and my breathing had grown quicker.

To my relief, Carter was still awake when I reached him, although he looked terrified and wasn’t moving. Without time to consult him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. He stumbled a bit to gain his footing before finally standing straight. He looked at me for a bit, then seemed to clear his mind and recover.

“We need to find the access port,” I breathed, nearly a whisper in the quiet night.

“Where?”

I shook my head. I’d lost track of it in the storm. Now it would be nearly impossible to find, as it was set into the carrier surface and so hidden from our view. I struggled to think of what to do.

Carter started fumbling with his harness, until eventually pulling out… another bomb. He grinned a little. “For light,” he said. Then he handed me the bomb and put his hands together, crouching down into a position where he could lift me up. And he thought I was crazy.

No time to spare, I stepped onto Carter’s hands, struggling against the upward acceleration to push myself higher. Carter likewise stood up until I had a good view of the dark surface around us. I silently prepared myself. Then I activated the bomb and threw it into the air as hard as I could.

The explosion was further away this time, so I could hear it in its full glory. There was a brilliant ball of fire above us, a rattling shockwave, and a deep roar of expanding gas, but I didn’t look away from the carrier beneath us, quickly scanning for a flash of a reflective access port in the brief light we had.

A glint of light caught my eye. I’d found one. I pointed at it, making sure Carter saw it too. Carter let me back down, and we started towards it, as fast as we could, the explosion still ringing in our ears. The air had grown so cold my teeth were chattering. I could barely breathe. Still, we pushed on.

The light had completely died out now. We had to trust we were walking in the right direction. It hadn’t been too far away, but a small deviation could cause us to miss it entirely. We walked and walked, growing more and more desperate, more sure that we’d passed it already.

I tripped on something, a ledge, causing Carter to bump into me and push me to the ground. My knees hit the metal surface harshly, and I swore.

“Sorry,” Carter breathed. We were both exhausted. I could barely think. But- that ledge, maybe…

“Here,” I said, and felt my way towards the ledge I’d tripped on. Carter likewise got on his knees and began searching. The surface of the carrier was
cold against my hands, and still covered in rough sand which had caked onto the surface. There were dents here and there, small concavities giving me hope before dashing it. I found another one and- no, this was no dent. I felt around, and discovered a flat edge, leading to a large intrusion, the metal dipping down to form an inset square.

Hopeful and desperate, Oxygen rapidly escaping my lungs, I felt around the square until I felt a handle protruding. I wrapped both my hands around it, braced myself, and pulled as hard as I could. It didn’t budge. I tried again, pulling long and hard. No luck. Carter must have heard my effort, as he came up next to me.

Giving up on pulling, I tried to think rationally. I tried turning the handle. I tried pushing it. I tried sliding it to one side. It wouldn’t move. It must be locked. I let go of the handle. Sat back. Tried to think. My lungs pulled on my chest. My fingers were beginning to go numb. Next to me, Carter tried his luck on the handle. We were seconds from death. But I had one last trick up my sleeve.

I slid a long knife from my belt and, despite the dark, closed my eyes. Concentrating. I tried to block everything out. Feel the air around me. Feel the blade in my hand. The bulk of it. The edge of it. I tried to picture my will closing around it, gripping it. I could feel it, the knife. From my hand and from my mind.

I opened my eyes, kept my focus. In front of me, the blade of the knife was glowing a faint blue. A younger me might have wavered, in awe of the phenomenon. I was steadfast. My entire being lived in the blade of the knife.

I swung it, a wide, high arc, swooping overhead before crashing down, through the air, through the metal of the access port. The blade left a brilliant trail of blue and green as it fell, crashing against the metal in an explosion of color. I turned my wrist, turned my mind, redirected the motion. Across the surface of the metal, in a wide circle. I was pushing it forward. The color followed my motion, turning from blue and green to orange and red, sliding down the edge of my knife and biting into the metal I cut without resistance. Finally, I swung the blade up, out, the color following in a splash of purple and pink. In a smooth motion, I flipped the blade and returned it to its sheath, letting my will fall away. Waves of colored drifted through the air, still fading. Carter was staring at me, astonished. I ignored him, instead getting to my feet, crouching. Focusing all my energy into my legs from launching myself into the air, above the access port. I let the gravity push me down, and the ship rose up to meet me, until my legs crashed into the access port, in the center of the clean circle I’d cut in its metal.

It gave. The metal fell inward with a loud pang, and I fell with it into a small, dark room. A motion activated light flickered on. Carter fell to the ground beside me just as air began rushing out of the hole I’d made. I looked around quickly for something to fill the gap, finally settling on one of many spare sheets of metal set against the wall. I grabbed it and flung in into the air, the suction from the hole pulling it tight against the ceiling and temporarily stopping any more pressure from escaping. The air inside was warm, the pressure restabilizing. Feeling was returning to my fingers. We were safe for now.

Gasping in relief, I feel against the nearest wall and slid to the ground. Carter was still splayed out in the middle of the room, facing up and breathing heavily. We both caught our breaths for a moment.

Finally Carter turned his head, looking at me. He took another deep breath before bursting out “Who are you?”

Ah. He was referring to what I’d done earlier. The cut in the metal. It was no easy feat, to be sure, and I’d just done it by hand, with a knife.

In truth, there were many answers to the question he was asking. But my past was something I did not share often or easily. Perhaps one day I would share it with this man in front of me, but not now. Not yet. Instead I gave him a literal answer.

“I’m Kaya,” I said. And it was the truth.

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