The shuttle was no speeder. They groaned and fought against sharp maneuvers, and these tendrils were swift. They lurched out of the canopy, which looked like an upside-down mushroom cap. More and more of them splayed themselves open, releasing tendrils into the sky, translucent like those that grabbed Arana. Except these were as thick as my arm and blinking with yellow light.
The shuttle groaned when the tendrils latched themselves onto the exterior. Shuttles weren’t made for evasion or assault. As I pushed the junk to top speed, the tendrils tugged, trying to drag us toward the canopy, and they would because the engine burned hot. If the tendrils didn’t crush us, the engine would blow us to bits. Cheap fucking Corporate.
“I’m going to shut off the engines,” I said.
“What?!” Roys bellowed.
“Once I shut them off, the tendrils will pull us to the canopy. Flip the engines back on, you give the engines a little extra thrust, and there should be enough flames to burn them to a crisp.”
“Are you nuts?” Roys glanced at the door. “We have flamethrowers on board… but we can’t risk opening the hatch.”
“Exactly."
The shuttle shrieked, signaling its inevitable loss. Roys saw the idea, his eyes wide in realization, but still hesitated.
“What’s the fucking problem and say it before the tendrils drag us in—” and one of them hurled against the window, then more joined, making the shuttle screech. “Fuck it, hit the button in three!”
I shut off the engine. Everyone screamed. We plummeted. Roys’ eyes strayed over the dash. We hit the canopy, where the tendrils enveloped us in a sea of flashing white lights. A crack formed in the window. Roys shook, sweating, hands hovering over the dash. I hit my seatbelt and flew over the console to slam the burn fuel button. My other hand turned on the engine, and the shuttle howled, or maybe it was the flora.
Fire roared. The tendrils went red and then caught in flames. We burst out of the canopy, a blazing ball of fire and thrashing tendrils that fell away. I dropped into the pilot seat, barely getting into position before the seatbelt clicked on.
“Sorry about that, folks. Had to escape being devoured by flora. The shuttle is damaged but can get us back, so we have to cut this little adventure of ours short today. Please keep all bodily fluids within yourself until we land. Over and out,” I said over comms before checking our engine. So hot it could rival the stars but cooling fast since the shuttle returned to its preferred leisurely pace. Nothing else proved to be a potential problem, so we were in the clear.
Roys’ leg took on a whole new level of shaking, bouncing enough to vibrate his seat. He removed his seatbelt and went for the door, saying over his shoulder, “Good job.”
He went into the cabin to explain the situation. My fingers tapped against the wheel, wondering exactly what had happened. Roys saw the merit in my plan. He was willing to do it but what — he couldn’t find the damn button? We did plenty of maneuvers in speeders, behemoths compared to this fucking shuttle. With all the tours he had been on, he flew these shuttles more than I did. What was the problem?
The cabin door opened. Roys sank into the copilot seat. He put on the seatbelt and shut his eyes.
“The shuttle got a quick scan of that flora, so we’ll be notified should we ever come across them again,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll search for a safer path to the mountain.”
“On manual, yeah?”
“Definitely on manual, and Iylene will be your copilot.”
My jaw clenched. “You doing that because you froze?”
Roys had far more hours than Iylene, than all of us. He should have been able to react without my help. He should be the one co-piloting the shuttle. Not that I didn’t want Iylene with me, but… I didn’t get it. Him.
“Now isn’t the time to rub it in,” he grumbled, arms crossed.
“For once, I’m not. It’s a question.”
“Yet you make it sound like a jab.”
“You’re taking it as a jab.” I flexed my fingers while his were pressed firmly into his arms. My chest ached with a pain I couldn’t place. “Why did you freeze? I’ve seen you do faster maneuvers than that in a speeder.”
“This isn’t a speeder.”
“You’ve piloted a shuttle before.” I tapped and tapped, wondering if I had misunderstood, if he didn’t… “Did you hesitate because you didn’t believe in my plan?”
He set a glare on me. “Not everything is about you.”
“I am asking honestly if you didn’t trust my plan.”
Roys slammed his fist on the dash. “Just pilot the fucking shuttle, Lucky!”
His attention was hotter than ever, pointed in a way it hadn’t been for a while. I had the urge to meet his scrutiny, to give him shit, but the words congealed on my tongue.
