Foreword:
Fun fact about me: I don't enjoy writing action. DX I've forced myself to write enough of it that I don't completely suck at it anymore, but it's still the most difficult and least fun part of the pen-to-paper phase of the writing process. Since this story was originally written with a really strict deadline (see my notes from chapter 3), I realized near the end that I wouldn't be able to finish the whole story in time. :( So, I decided to just write around the action. I wrote right up to the climax, then skipped straight to the denouement, and finished the climax after I'd already presented the story to my brother as a Christmas present. It ended up working out pretty well, though, since he was able to help me plot the action out and add some neat touches of his own—like that little cargo bot that keeps popping up. XP So, even though the story is far from over, you're currently reading some of the last scenes I actually wrote down. Writing is funny that way. ;P
Tutelary [toot-l-er-ee] – having the position of guardian or protector of a person, place, or thing.
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Service Droid 91801 had just barely entered the cargo hold of its delivery point when its central processor was assaulted with unusual information. The space station was in great distress. The power core had been destroyed. The bulkheads in three quadrants were rupturing internally. An enormous foreign object had appeared in the Central Control room and was growing rapidly in size. What an interesting day this was turning out to be.
91801 blinked its optic, suddenly even more grateful that it had been instructed to remain aboard this ship after delivering its cargo. Judging by the reports still flooding in, there soon wouldn't be much of a space station to return to. The little droid stiffened its wheels as the ship began to tremble. The vessel was still docked at the space station, which seemed to be slowly exploding. Ignoring that as much as possible, Service Droid 91801 dutifully trundled to the designated drop-off point and stowed its cargo, taking extra precautions to secure it in place in light of the precarious circumstances.
As it wheeled toward the holding rack on the wall, preparing to go into standby mode, the ship convulsed violently. 91801 was thrown forcefully against the cargo bay's back wall. Suddenly very concerned about its own safety, the robot began to assess its damage, as well as the danger level of the current situation. Turning to its right, it could see that the ship's aft hatch, which had been attached to the space station 1.3 minutes ago, now opened out into space while the demolished space station withdrew into the distance. 91801 thereby concluded that the docking clamps had failed, and the force of whatever was tearing the station apart had thrust the ship outward.
Loud rumblings and scrapings issued from inside the cargo bay, and Service Droid 91801 saw that the unsecured cargo was also being flung toward the aft hatch. Internal alarms announced the extremely high danger level, disconcerting the poor bot within a microsecond of its warranty. It quickly searched its data banks and consulted an internal schematic of this ship's model for something near this spot that it could tether to. It found a safety handle just above its head, seized it with all the power its small energy cells would allow, and desperately held on as dozens of cargo containers and less fortunate service droids were thrown out into space.
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I struggled uselessly, glaring at Darix despite the pain of his hateful grip. He stared right back at me, wrath radiating from his eyes.
"You should've stayed on your own planet, boy," he seethed.
Suddenly I heard Becky's voice screaming, and she charged Darix with such force that he instantly released me and was carried away in a beam of light.
Suddenly, everything was spinning. I looked to my right, which quickly became my left, and I was struck with sharp dizziness. It was like being trapped in a broken gyroscope. Stars streaked like comets across my vision. I saw the ship, the station, the ship again, the station again, and the flashing, blasting twin lights of dueling Lexiconians.
"Becky," I called out desperately, knowing there was no way I could get to her. I couldn't even stop my body from pinwheeling through space, and I was so disoriented from the constant tumbling and flailing that I felt I might throw up in my helmet at any moment.
I heard a frightened yell, and wrenched my head toward the sound. Mid-twirl I was just able to see a brief glimpse of Bob drifting toward me at high speed. He must've lost his grip on Becky during her mad dash to save me. He crashed into me, sending us both sailing, but the force of the collision also stopped me from spinning helplessly through space. With a gasp of grateful relief, I reached out and grabbed his foot before he could float away. The monkey squealed something that sounded like a thank-you and climbed onto my back, tightly grasping my shoulders.
I shook my head to clear the dizziness, then looked ahead, watching Becky and Darix flash angrily to and fro as they got farther and farther away. My heart sank with concern. I had faith in Becky, but she was a teenage girl out there, fighting an adult man with the same superpowers. There was no telling how long she could last against him. I had to help her somehow.
I glanced over at Darix's ship. It continued to drift from the destroyed space station, but it still wasn't too far away. With one good burst of thrust, I could probably get to it.
Heart racing with concern and determination, I pulled my computer from my belt, and reactivated its interface with my suit's oxygen system.
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"NO!" I screamed as I furiously propelled Darix away from Tobey. "You leave him ALONE!"
Darix's surprise wore off quickly, and he grabbed my shoulders and flung me aside. I was dismayed by the staggering difference in our strength, but I couldn't let that discourage me. I had to protect Tobey.
"I can't believe what a fool you are," Darix vociferated, charging me with such velocity that I barely had time to brace myself before he knocked me aside with a powerful backhand. I grunted in pain as I crashed into a large piece of debris from the space station. "Charging into a fight you can't possibly win just to protect that human?" He attacked again, and this time I dodged. My ears hurt from the screeching of metal as Darix smashed the debris behind me.
I jetted a distance away from him, then faced him once more, taking up a defensive posture. He turned around to glare at me and hatefully spat, "I don't understand you! What's the point of caring about him if you can't even save him?"
Anger flared inside me, burning away the last vestige of fear. My fists tightened at my sides, and I saw Darix with new eyes yet again. No longer was he the kind man who had begged for my help on Earth, nor was he the terrifying miscreant who had threatened to kill my friend. Now the man before me was nothing more than a pathetic wretch with no heart, and therefore no future. I would never lose to someone as contemptible as him.
"I don't understand you!" I zapped toward him, ready for his counterstrike, and when he coiled to knock me aside, I parried and grabbed his arm, spinning around and flinging him as hard as I could into a different piece of space debris. Remembering the reason he'd given for why he'd done all this—his alleged mission to protect our people from the future threat of the Zymians—I inhaled and passionately shouted, "What's the point of saving anyone if you don't even care about them?!"
I grabbed a drifting section of corridor and hurled it at him as hard as I could. Darix looked up, still dazed from slamming into the first giant piece of scrap metal, and gasped as he jumped out of the path of this one. The wreckage collided with a loud boom, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.
Darix frowned sharply and charged me. I waited until the last possible moment, then zipped away into a sharp curve and kicked him from the side. He pinwheeled off into space, stunned and disoriented, and with a swell of excitement I recognized my advantage over him. Darix was a manipulator, not a fighter. I wasn't nearly as strong as him, but I had something important that he was seriously lacking: experience.
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Bob shrieked worriedly when he saw what I was doing.
"We don't have a choice," I explained, guessing what he was concerned about. "We have to get to the ship."
I finished configuring my suit's system. Now it could dispense oxygen in bursts from the intake valve on my back. Darix had said there was a single day's supply in the tank. Hopefully it would be enough.
"Hang on tight," I said, and Bob obeyed, squealing apprehensively.
I flailed around just enough to get us facing the ship, then took a deep breath. It was true that I didn't have a choice, but I was still taking a big risk. I wouldn't do Becky any good if I suffocated in my suit two minutes after she risked her life to save me. I definitely wasn't doing her any good just drifting in space, though. And then there was the more obvious, and more selfish cause of my hesitation—I didn't want to die.
With a trembling finger, I pushed the button to execute the command. The sputtering of air leaving my suit sounded behind me, and I was launched forward. The momentum from the first burst looked like it would be enough to get us to the ship, but, unfortunately, I had to initiate another to correct our course.
"Look for something we can hold onto," I shouted as the ship rapidly got closer. If we couldn't find an anchor for ourselves, we would bounce right off the hull, and I would have wasted my oxygen for nothing.
Bob squealed urgently when the ship was mere meters away, and pointed to a gnarled piece of the ship's stern not too far to our right. Reluctantly, I let off one last small oxygen burst to get us lined up with our handhold, and prayed the mangled metal wouldn't cut open my suit when we struck it.
I almost gasped in surprise when Bob climbed in front of me. With ape-like dexterity he grabbed one of my arms with his feet, and reached out with both hands toward the ship. Once the damaged section of the hull was within his reach he seized it carefully and pushed back against me, so that I stopped short of touching it.
"Wow," I said, exhaling in relief. "Thanks."
Bob smiled back at me and chirped happily, as if to say, 'No problem,' then sobered and gave a nervous squawk as he pointed at his head.
I looked at my computer and checked on my oxygen reserve. Thirty minutes left.
"Don't worry," I said, trying to ignore the little pit opening up in my stomach. "I have plenty of time."
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Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
— 1 Corinthans 13:6-7
Author's Notes:
- Theme Song: "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten— I thought of Becky the first time I heard this song, and to this day I can't hear it without thinking of her resolve in this final battle. She's put aside all her fear, doubt, and sorrow, and she's decided that she's just going to fight until she beats this thing.
- Theme Song: "Your Guardian Angel" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus— This song has been applied to so many couples, but Tobey is earning his right to claim it. It's easy to say that you'd die for someone, but to actually put your lifeline where your mouth is and stare death in the eyes to get between it and your loved one... That takes more than just words.