And it is destroying me.
My stomach hurts some from hunger, mostly from guilt. I cannot waste this chance. They planned this without me. But I cannot throw away their sacrifices because I’m upset, or everyone dies.
So I salute my friends, wishing I didn’t feel like I was abandoning them. They salute me back. Daken helps Charlee get her hand to her brow.
Reluctantly, and with painful steps, I hike the ramp into the belly of my ship. The ramp seals up behind me, and I slip into my pilot’s seat. My cabin is mildly warm, but life support is set to minimum standards to conserve power and supplies.
“Dragon Nine, Centurion Hangar Control. Opening doors, Bay Nine.” Charlee sounds like she’s desperately trying not to cry.
I tap my ear com and call back. “CHC, Dragon Nine.” I ignite my thrusters. “Fire under my wings. Fury in my soul. Solcrue will reap what they have sown.”
As I hover toward the blue sealscreen, I hear a crash over the coms.
“Aera,” Daken rasps over the dash. “Light a bonfire under that ass. Charlee is down. We are running out of time.”
My lips quiver as I think of my friends and all the hours of flight training when we were younger, the hand-to-hand combat sessions on the gym mats, and how Charlee liked gummy bears in her ice cream back when we still had homes and hope on Earth Minor.
But Solcrue were winning the war, so our colony fled to the stars. The aliens wrecked every outpost and spaceport. They took over highways and jump portals. And here we are, adrift in space, dying because we wanted only to be free.
Anger strengthens my resolve and my voice. “Keep her warm, Colt. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll do my best,” Colt faintly replies.
The moment I’m through the hangar, the doors begin to close. I bank and fly overCenturion’sdark thrusters, aiming for the nebula. It is several days away at a conservative pace. But I have no intention of walking around my empty ship for that long while my colony dies.
When I’m a safe distance from our mothership, I increase speed. My thrusters push me harder toward the distant stars. The force sinks me back and into the cushions of my seat. My thinning body shifts inside my loose suit, and I realize how much weight I’ve lost.
My friends and my colony have lost more.
I increase speed as fast as my body can handle. Breathing gets difficult. My vision swims.
Stay focused, Aera. They need you.
I blink hard and keep my eyes on the navigation screen and the ink of space…the faint purple blaze in the distance.
The ship’s power drops, as does the time to my destination.
Two days, 12 hours.
I push the ship harder.
1 day, 18 hours.
I max the throttle until my ship rattles. Power drops to fifty percent.
Momentum increases. That’s the thing about space. No resistance of air means constantly adding velocity until I cut power to the thrusters. Trouble is, I need enough power to stop.
I ease back on the throttle until I shut the engines down completely. My little ship races across the stars. Power drops to forty-five percent. I’ve gone too hard.
The dash blinks with the time to arrival at the Iridithatium nebula.
12 hours, 51 minutes.
Then a warning.
Power drain in 12 hours, 39 minutes.
Shit.I need to conserve power.
