Dad whipped his head around forcefully, settling after a moment to look me straight in the eye. "Your sister," he said, his breath gaining but a moment of calmness. "Get back to the house-" A massive groan cut him off before he continued. "Nnh… get the rifle; hide in the basement with your sister." His speech was obviously gravely labored.
I shook my head, feeling the tendons strain against my bum shoulder. "Dad… neither of us can do anything alone-"
"You can do a helluva lot more than me right now." He began panting heavily again, clutching, his destroyed hand and shaking uncontrollably. "Just go! Someone'll find me."
"Didn't you hear?" I instinctively motioned wildly to the Titan with my bad arm, quickly wincing and pulling it back in pain. That was going to take some getting used to. "They're headed right this way!"
"Someone… will… find… me!" He spaced out the words emphatically, trying his best to be so damned difficult that I'd have no choice but to leave him behind. "Grab the rifle, let off a few signal shots outside, and get to safety." His words veiled so much anger, but I knew none of it was directed toward me. "Now go, go!"
I could see it in his eyes: there was nothing left to say. In the distance, the engines of the IMC ships could be heard, their growling growing closer and more sinister every passing moment. It was all I could do to share one last look with Dad. His mouth was straining; he clearly wasn't in a good enough shape to keep talking. Instead, he offered just a single nod in my direction, which I reciprocated. Looking in his eyes before I turned away, I saw the only hopes he carried: my and Lucy's survival. I turned and began to shuffle as quickly as I could back toward our hermitage.
The entire colony had finally gotten a clue by the time I passed the halfway point. Several people I had known to constantly live in fear of the IMC, I'd seen waddling out of their housing units, rubbing their eyes sheepishly only to spread them wide as they noticed the veritable cavalcade on the horizon. Within minutes, the entire area was in disarray, the manner of which was unlike any I'd ever seen. Adults and children alike were running to and fro, everyone seemingly ignoring everyone else in the commotion. Most held expressions of wide-eyed confusion, likely due in no small part to everyone's being hungover. I began to think: shouldn't this be the one time we'd want to work together more than ever? That said, I don't think anyone really knew exactly what to do. How long could we have expected to live in peace, taunting the IMC with our infamous yet wholly illicit venture? The war finding us wasn't a matter of if, but of when. That said, it couldn't have come at a worse 'when'.
I quickly turned to the sky as I approached our house. Our little metal cottage had become completely shrouded in the shadow of the IMC carriers above, sending a chill up my spine counteracting the bombardment of pulsations being emitted from the IMC ships.
Throwing the door open, nearly knocking it off its beat-up hinges, I stormed into the house and immediately made for the kitchen. Dad kept the rifle at the bottom of our kitchen's island, in a hollowed out space behind a wood board we'd disguised as floor trimming years ago. Even so, the old thing was still covered in dust; no one had even acknowledged its existence in years.
My shoulder was absolutely screaming, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, dragging the rifle across the floor and out into the open. The dust it kicked up set a fire in my lungs, and also revealed the 'G2A4' insignia emblazoned on the receiver. What the hell did Dad expect me to do with this? Even if my dominant shoulder wasn't positively decimated as it was, I barely even remembered how to fire the thing. I remembered how I'd bragged to the other kids in school, how I was the only one among them who had actually fired a gun. In truth, it was just as well; I'd only pulled the trigger once in my lifetime, years and years in the past all the while Dad stood behind me, steadying me against the recoil. I was no marksman, that much was obvious.
With any luck, I wouldn't need to shoot anything… or, shoot at anything, at any rate. Everyone was well aware of the situation, if the continuing din outside was of any indication. Firing off a few signal rounds as Dad had suggested wouldn't be necessary.
I quickly made for the stairs, rifle in tow tucked into my good arm. Lucy was probably hiding under the covers of her bed. Or having seen her last night, she probably slept through all this, I thought, taking solace in the slight grin I felt invade my-
Gone. The room was far too small, our beds too low, and her very presence far too conspicuous for her to be hiding anywhere out of my sight. Lucy wasn't in our room. My heart damn near stopped.
I spun on my heel and dashed back downstairs into the bathroom, dropping the rifle on the floor and falling to my knees, beginning to run my fingers along the tiles. Much like the rifle, we hadn't used the basement in years. Hell, chances were Lucy wouldn't have even remembered it was there. But it was the only place she could be; she had to be down there. The thought of her being out there in all that calamity… she had to be down there.
Detecting the edge of the floor panel, I ripped upward with my remaining arm, sending the facade panel across the room. I lay down on my belly, lowering the rifle as far as I could before dropping it unceremoniously, then spinning on my chest and jumping down into the dark.
I hadn't remembered the basement being so dank, but as soon as I reached the damp dirt floor, I could overtly feel the mold penetrating my nostrils. Whose idea was it to make a basement directly below the biggest producer of moisture in the house? Lucy wouldn't last long down here, I thought.
"Hey!" I let out softly, in that yelling-while-still-whispering manner you use when you can't get too loud. "Lucy! Luce, it's me!"
No answer. Couldn't even hear her her breathing, and Lord knows she'd be on the brink of hyperventilating if she'd ended up seeing what was going on outside.
I felt around near my feet until I was greeted with the cold touch of gun metal. I snaked my hand along the barrel until my fingers reached the flashlight beneath the muzzle. I twisted it, and it flicked on, adequately illuminating the entire space. Sure enough, it was empty, save myself and the mold.
It was a struggle to climb out with only one arm, and even more so while trying to shimmy up with the rifle in tow, but I eventually made it back into the bathroom, kicking the floor panel back into place. It made a resounding 'thunk' as it sunk back into its allotted indentation.
Just then, it hit me: the commotion outside had completely ceased. Not a single footstep penetrated the walls of our home.
I edged along the wall back to reach the door, still ajar from when I had burst in. Slowly, I craned my neck around the edge of the door, trying to get a glimpse of the outside.
Fittingly, not a soul in sight. Where had everyone gone? There weren't many places to hide, and even fewer avenues by which to escape.
Seemingly from nowhere, a voice spliced through the silence. For a moment, I'd thought it might have been God, looking down on me and finally saying, 'Well... you're screwed, kid'. It might as well have been, given what the voice truly purveyed.
"Attention civilians: this is Commander Kuben Blisk, operating under the authority of the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation. We've already taken many of your compatriots onto custody." Well, that'd explain where all the people out in the open had gone off too. That also meant the progenitor of this voice wasn't too far off from me. "This is an unauthorized colonization effort, brimming with illicit commercial ventures. Even worse, you're harboring the escaped fugitive Robert Taube, and are in possession of stolen IMC military paraphernalia."
Barker. Wasn't a surprise they'd come for him. That's one problem with being the hero, I supposed: to someone else, you're always the villain, and that 'someone else' might just have an army to back them up. Everything else was semantics; they'd never have have come for us if Barker hadn't rode in on his shining steed. What a way to equate his beat-up-ass shuttle, I thought.
After a very short and weighty pause, the voice continued. "I'd ask you to produce the fugitive and stolen property… but judging by the ones we've already picked up, you Militia types still tend to turn your noses up to the law. Let's see how you fare in the face of real power." It was at that time it struck me that this 'Blisk' must have been speaking through a loudspeaker, because from far off, I heard him yell without using it. "Deploy the Spectres! I'm dying to get out of this shithole."
A collection of loud metallic banging and whirring sounds echoed through the colony. This can't be good, I thought. Some of the guys at the tavern were in the loop with Vinson Dynamics; word had it, the IMC had commissioned the design of mechanical warfare units some time ago, and since, they'd been running abhorrent experiments on people, trying to implant human consciousness into a robotic body. That was a logical, even exciting, scientific frontier.
What? No. Can't believe that thought crossed my mind. Logical for the IMC, maybe, but not for basic humanitarian identity. Either way, whatever the IMC was about to throw my way, I wasn't eager to meet it. Priority number one was finding Lucy, finding Dad, and getting the hell outta dodge. Then… leaving the colony? Region? Planet? Giving up our lives to go to another planet, again?
Couldn't think about that. Needed to focus on priority one.
To my right, I heard a massive slam, followed by the sound of scattering debris accompanied by massive reverberation beneath my feet. The dust generated cleared quickly, and I recognized its source immediately. I'd heard about those things: drop pods. Thing was only about 30 meters off, at the end of the row of housing units. Any troops inside would find me in no time, basement or no basement. And I'd be just as screwed, armed or not. I wasn't going to wait around to die. Before any sign of life emerged from the pod, I slinked around the edge of the door frame and ran across the path, ducking behind the next building.
I fidgeted with the rifle, shaking it into a position where I could maybe fire it, my hand along the curvature of the stock just behind the trigger guard. I'd have to drag it behind me and risk clogging the barrel, but I'd risk it for the ability to quickly pull up and shoot. Wasn't like I'd be able to hit anything either way.
I lurched along the side wall of the building I'd reached, hugging against it and trying to distance myself from the drop pod. My best course of action would be to move through the main 'shine production building, and out through the west egress. If nothing else, I'd be on the other side of the colony from where they were dropping troops.
There came to be an area in front of me I recognized: the stairway into the grain repository where I'd sat reminiscing happily just a few hours prior. Seemed completely removed from that memory now. This was likely the last time I'd get to see the place. How fragile it could truly be, I thought; place had stood for years through time and turmoil, serving us well. After today, it'd be a distant memory, no matter where we ended up.
I rolled along the corner, checking the adjacent path for any presence. Both to my own relief and chagrin, no one was there at all. It was just a few feet to the granary entrance, but I'd have to cross in front of the main lane, giving any IMC forces on the east dock a clear view - and by extension, a clear shot - directly at me.
How many were down there? Despite having heard the voice of… what was his name? Bisque? Despite having heard him yelling, I hadn't actually seen what I was dealing with. Kneeling down, I craned my head around the corner, just as I had been doing several times during this whole ordeal.
Shit. Immediately, I recoiled back, sucking in my breath to make as little noise as possible. Not ten meters away, a monstrous squadron of what I could only describe as 'robotic soldiers with pointed jackal heads and fierce glowing eyes' marched toward me. All I could tell was that they were travelling in rows of five or six, and moving directly on an intercept course with my path into the granary. Wasn't able to tell just how many rows of the things there were, but suffice it to say there were just too many to count, with a massive brute of a Titan standing at the back watching them roll out. It was only once I was aware their extreme proximity that I became cognizant of their footsteps: subtle enough to be mistaken for basic machinery, but distinctive enough to drive a cold fear into my core.
No way I could make it across into the granary door. I'd have to go around and cut across the repository, and simply hope they wouldn't catch wind of me through the now open port. Usually, if the granary or repository was left open, we'd all have our bosses screaming at us about 'contamination' or some other banal shit, but at that point, it seemed everyone had had the same idea: abandon all hope, run for your life.
Continually watching my flank for the 'jackals', I ducked down the path to my right. If I timed it properly, I'd be able to duck into the side repository entrance just as the robot squadron was forced to turn at the fork in the road and encircle the granary. I could slip out before they met back up at the other side, and make my way back around the perimeter to the shuttle takeoff area. At that point, I had to trust that someone had scooped Lucy up and brought her somewhere to evacuate.
Wait, didn't that IMC commander say they'd already picked people up? I couldn't risk leaving anyone here. What about Lucy? What about Dad? Wha- what was my goal really? Just to stay alive? Was I the last one left in this entire damn colony?
My mind was racing so frantically, my head almost physically started wavering. Had to calm down. If I was going to circle back around to the shuttles, I'd pass by where I'd had to leave Dad. If he wasn't there, I'd have to assume he'd been picked up… and would have to hope it was by the right people. His words resounded in my brain: "Someone will find me!"
The pain in my shoulder was beginning to subside a bit, but my whole left arm was still completely out of commission. Had to ignore it; had to do everything I could.
I came around the side of a smaller garage into a small grove, flattened faces of rock protruding through the grass and obscuring my view of the coming mechanical onslaught. Focusing, I could still hear their footsteps, although timing my run for the side entrance to the repository would prove difficult while applying such mental fortitude to focusing on the footsteps. Squinting, I managed to see the porthole, just small enough to duck through, and fully opened just like the other entrance. I'd have to clamber up the outcropping, a tall order in my condition, but after that, it was a straight shot to the opening.
Had to be fast, even faster than if I'd had both arms usable on a good day. Getting a running start to the rocks helped a bit, but on the last and highest ledge, I'd have get a running start parallel to it and use my momentum to swing my rifle up and use it as leverage. Once I was up, I'd be free to make my run.
I took a few steps along the ledge, steadying myself slightly against the raised earth. Falling from here would do nothing but harm. As I backtracked along the edge, a memory suddenly invaded the forefront of my mind.
Was three, maybe four months ago. Couldn't be sure. Lucy stood about where I was, climbing up the little cliffs on which I stood. Damned things stood up to her eye level, but she effortlessly managed to throw one arm over the top, pivoting her hips to swing her legs up onto the surface. She spun around on her stomach, jumping up to reveal her entire torso covered in mud and soot. Lucy started jumping up and down, nearly devolving into jumping jacks as she bobbed excitedly.
"Look! I did it!" she shouted excitedly. I had just happened to be passing by, grabbing a box as I was wont to do at work.
I shot her a smile. "Good job!" Probably sounded about as half-hearted as it could get. Couldn't really offer more, my mind focused so much on work.
"Daddy, look!" Her gaze drifted away, to some area behind me. I turned to look the same way, my smile fading as I saw him. Dad was arguing with someone, far off at the edge of the outcropping. Tensions were high; Dad gesticulated at his opponent wildly, occasionally motioning toward me and my sister. In my memory, I could've sworn I recognized the other person, but couldn't pin down a single detail. Memory's funny like that, I supposed. Even Dad looked wrong; his eyes grey, lifeless, almost like he wasn't fully there somehow.
Wait… could I climb up the last ledge just like Lucy had? I snapped back to the present. If I pulled myself onto the cliff just as she had, I'd be primed to quickly slither along the ground into the hatch. As long as the surrounding ferns and brush kept me covered, I'd essentially guarantee my safe passage. Not only that, but I'd only have to use one arm, and I could use the rifle to steady myself!
I was in position. Still had to be quick, but madly precise. I wound my arm back like I was about to throw something, and launched my good arm, rifle and all, up onto the ledge, my lower body following swiftly in tow.
Bang. So quickly had I moved, there was no chance to do a thing before my massive blunder took its toll. And so hard had I slammed the rifle, it had fired, sending a stray round vaguely in the direction of the robots, and even worse, toward where I had seen that hulk of a Titan with them. Remembered how Dad used to go off on people who carried guns around the colony with a round already chambered. Told them how dangerous that was for the kids, asked what they were afraid of. I wondered if he'd somehow known this kind of thing would happen. He's a lot of things, I thought, but not that heavy of a hypocrite.
My ears were ringing something awful, but I was in position to make my run. Wasn't able to tell what was going on with the approaching robots, but no doubt the shot had been heard, or sensed, or whatever robots did. There wasn't much time before they'd be on top of me.
My mind suddenly became clearer than ever before. Looking back at how I'd remembered Lucy and Dad… it provided some kind of laser focus onto my very desire to stay alive. The choice was simple: stay, and wait for the robots to crush me even worse than I already was, or make for the granary.
My legs acted before I even consciously made the decision. My feet dug into the clay, dirt, and soot, propelling forward into a mighty bound toward my destination, leaving the gun in the dust and freeing my usable hand. I would have continued on all fours, had my arm been in good shape. The clarity, the energy: it was primal, almost animal.
In but a few bounds, I had reached the opening, my heart beating faster than I'd ever felt before. Wasn't going to bother looking to see if the bots had seen me; my heart was close to bursting out of my chest, as it stood.
I managed to duck into the opening, and drop down onto the metal walkway bordering each side of the grain repository. I'd only been in here once before, and for good reason: generally, they try to keep it locked up tight to prevent "contamination". Truly, you couldn't contaminate such a massive quantity of grain so easily, and the kind of people who drank the swill we made probably wouldn't care anyway.
In front of me sat all the grain we'd harvested. Something about the soil on this planet made it grow just about as fast as we could harvest it. As such, we'd collected hills and hills of the stuff; the mounds of it we'd stockpiled were literal meters deep, all flowed together in this bountiful golden sea before me… not that it particularly mattered, anymore.
"'Ey!"
The call came from across the sea of grain, just barely surmounting the ringing in my ears. I instinctively ducked down, throwing my good arm out to the side for balance; not sure if I was reflexively trying to hide, or just make a smaller target.
I peered out across the grain, and took a few careful steps to my right as I noticed someone at the other end of the room. They hadn't shot at me yet, so my best assumption was that they were friendly… or, about as friendly as one could get in this situation.
Squinting and shifting my focus, I could make out one person, crouching down almost in the same manner as myself. They seemed to have been cowering in the corner of the room, interrupted only by my entrance. Couldn't make out the voice from what I'd heard, but after a few moments, I realized who it was.
Sam Hermes, our pilot and my Dad's prospective replacement, was the one I saw. He had a frantic look on his face, accentuated by his very visage: eyes so reddened I could tell from all the way over where I was, even behind his translucent pilot's goggles, and unkempt facial hair like he couldn't decide whether having a beard was the right choice or not.
He was just staring over at me, a mixture of surprise and fear permeating his expression. His jaw was quivering; he had something to say, but maybe he just hadn't the courage to say anything more for fear of alerting the robots outside.
Hermes's fear wasn't unfounded: we both twisted our heads toward the main grain repository entrance as the sound of motors whirring and metallic footsteps echoed throughout the chamber. Looking back to each other, we exchanged a look of knowing exactly where we each stood.
There was no clear walkway from the main entrance to where I stood, though one could potentially walk across the grain to reach me. On the other hand, the area where Hermes resided was directly connected to the main entrance with a short metallic boardwalk. I think we both saw in each other's eyes the same idea: simultaneously, we both jumped feet first into the grain, frantically using our (available) arms to bury ourselves like crabs in the sand on a beach.
I wasn't in as advantageous a position as Hermes was to do this, but the footsteps drew ever closer. Once I was beneath a thorough layer of grain and dust, I used my arms to try to swim to a corner, shoving my face against the metal to ensure that I still had a channel for breathable air. My mind was flooded with panic. Will they see me? What if they dig me out? Are they going to round me up like they did the rest, or will they kill me on sight? Every moment I wasted, Dad and Lucy moved farther and farther away-
Silence.
No, perhaps not: the sounds of motors hadn't waned, but the metallic footsteps had vanished, replaced by a light crunching of some sort. They'd reached the grain; I'd gotten underneath just in time. But there was nothing I could do but wait, and pray.
I tried to keep my breathing at bay, the sound of my exhalations turning to thunderous winds in my ears as I tried to breathe as deeply as possible, while staying as steady as I could as to not disturb the surface of the grain.
I nearly yelped; my heart skipped a beat. I could feel pressure building around my feet, the immense weight of the sinister metallic horrors drawing closer and closer. With every shuffle, with every displacement of weight nearer to my resting place, my heart beat faster and faster. 'Resting place'... what an apt description; this pile of grain may well have ended up being my grave. That assertion only became stronger when I heard one of the robots approaching from the same port by which I had entered.
It was jump a moment before I heard it ingress, jump, and land directly on top of my chest, nearly knocking the wind out of me. The barrier of grain between us managed to cushion the blow, but the weight was too much. I could feel my ribcage bowing just as my shoulder had before, my diaphragm starting to strain fiercely. In fact, the pain had been beginning to subside in my shoulder, but all this caused it to flare up again, just as bad as when the Titan had originally grabbed it.
I ground my teeth ferociously, squeezing my eyes and mouth shut, doing everything I could to avoid crying out. In the midst of all that, I still had to control my breathing, now labored by the extreme weight on my chest. One barely audible sound, and it was all over: Dad, Lucy… the way I felt about losing them now? I couldn't subject them to that. No matter the pain, no matter the self-control I had to spontaneously gain there in that moment, there was no choice to make. Had to survive. Had to live on. Had to… had to breathe, dammit, had to shift my body mass, all my internal organs cried out. How long was this thing going to stand on top of me? It's no use, I wailed mentally, something's gonna give, I have to…
...have to breathe…
...everything going numb…
...sight's going dim...
...have to move…
...right on my chest...
...have to…
...have...
A scream. Not a human one, at that; some mechanical abomination of sound, metal scraping on metal in this unholy expulsion of energy. The weight on top of me was miraculously lifted as I heard the robot atop me jump once again, landing in the grain somewhere far off.
I slowly let my lips peel apart, sucking in the air slowly through my lattice of tightly gritted teeth. From afar, a string of garbled expletives erupted through audible struggle. They got him. They got Hermes.
"You stupid ass-! Get off! You're gonna break my fuckin-". Hermes let out a loud cry through gritted teeth, letting it bleed into his next word. "Aaaaaaarm! Dammit, you metal motherfu-" The next sound was distinctive, the kind only metal pounding into unsuspecting flesh could create. Just like that, Hermes was out, and I listened on in my own silence as I heard them drag him, limp, across the grain.
I waited until the machines' footsteps and the sound of leather dragging on solid ground were too distant to double back in time before I burst out of my granular grave with a steep inhalation. For a few moments, I collected myself, letting my heavy breath disturb a few grains in front of me. Had to evaluate my position.
Thinking about it, Hermes was likely the only pilot left in the colony who was worth his salt. Certainly, I couldn't go after him. That said, piloting a shuttle off-world, with my lack of skill and my busted shoulder? Despite its impossibility and my own shuddering at the thought, it was a chance I'd have to take. Once my breathing calmed, I unearthed my legs and trudged across the grain, making sure to sneak a look out at the loading area where the bots had come from.
I found a bit of relief in the fact that the Titan seemed gone, and its booming footsteps would have been audible throughout the colony, even after all I'd been through. With any luck, it had left the planet on one of those carriers, or at least gone far enough away to cease being a concern. The majority of the robots were either gone or already widely dispersed; hopefully, they wouldn't bother me anymore. My next step: heading out the granary through the west egress.
As I reached the other end of the grain repository, I noticed a smattering of blood tainting and grain and the floor near it. Those robots really weren't gentle. And that could've been me… one had been right on top of me. How could I have hid so well directly beneath one, and have covered myself well enough with a busted arm, while he…?
Wait… had he purposely got himself captured? And, moreover, did he do it to ensure my own passage?
There's only a single reason he would have done such a thing, I thought. He had seen my family, maybe even put them on course to get off-world, to safety. Were that the case, there's no doubt Dad had made a wise decision in choosing his replacement.
I was able to move much faster once I climbed beyond the grain, especially since I had ditched the rifle. Within a few moments, I had reached the western door, the light giving me cause to guard my eyes a moment.
I jogged out onto the platform, checking left and right to see if I was clear to run out and get a better view. I was, once again, alone.
Had to stick to the plan. I turned to my right, and headed for the edge of the valley, right where I'd hoped Lucy and Dad were waiting for me. In a way, as long as I was with them, having to start all over again on a new planet wouldn't be such an ordeal. That's what family's for, I thought. Gotta stick together, or else nothing-
They were back. One of the bots emerged from around the corner of the building, jumping directly over my head and landing to my left. Before I could make a run for it, two more of them came into view, these two sprinting directly at me, automatic rifles trained on my chest. I was caught between a dead end or taking my chances back inside the granary. Somehow, I didn't think that hiding amongst the grain would work so well a second time.
There was only one play. Had to take my chances by running past the one, rather than take one the armed two. Hell, I figured I had no chance no matter my choice, but somehow still, my odds seemed better off the way I went.
I pivoted on my heel, and began my undoubtedly fruitless sprint at the monster. Had my chest not been still feeling the weight of the previous robot standing on it, I would have been letting out a might war cry. Or, come to think of it, just a pained, hopeless scream.
The war machine drew closer. I tried moving to flank it, but it kept pace with me laterally, widening its stance and drawing forward to meet me. Its segmented, cold hands were far too close together to try stopping or detaining me; this thing was preparing to maim me severely, if not worse.
The wind was in my face. A tear came to my eye. Didn't want to accept it; couldn't be weak. Just blame it on the wind, focus on right now.
Couldn't focus on right now.
Dad.
Lucy.
...Mom.
My life flashing before my eyes, she appeared. Was that really the way she wore her hair? The way her violet perfume smelled, when she'd leave us alone for the night to go out with Dad? Her eyes, weren't they hazel- no, green? What was the name of that story she'd always read us? How could I not remember her more distinctly? What had I to gain but pain by seeing this at the moment of my demise? Maybe I'd never know; I was nearly in the arms of the artificial beast.
Maybe someday I'll see them all again.
Maybe someday.
Not today.
"Protocol three: protect the pilot."
Mirroring the appearance of the robots, the Titan - my Titan - rounded the corner of the distillery. In one smooth motion, it swiped its hand along the ground in front of me. I stumbled and fell back, but the battle robot wasn't so lucky, shattering into its disparate parts that went flying away from me. The Titan shot forward with a short engine burst, and as I flipped over to watch it pass me, I saw the tongues of flame just disappear from the back of its chassis as it decimated the other two bots beneath its feet, leaving nothing but unrecognizable mangled metal in its wake. The few shots the robots had been able to let off were completely in vain, deflected off of some kind of energy shielding visible only while the bullets made contact.
The Titan stopped a moment, staring out over the expanse of the colony and the way to the shuttle ports. Slowly, it turned, but just its torso; it almost looked like it was… looking over its shoulder at me, as any human would.
Finally, it pivoted its body, every step in doing so sending shockwaves through my body. The thing was staring down at me again, giving me all-too-familiar feelings of dread as I'd felt when it looked down on Dad and me. The Titan, though, proceeded to kneel, its knee falling to the ground with an immense impact. It rested its arm on its leading knee, looking down at me like I was a child who'd just tripped while learning to walk.
"Are you alright, Pilot? Have you sought medical aid?" Its voice was different, somehow. More natural, more… human, as much as I hesitated to think. I refused to answer, completely awestruck and still trying to mentally process the spectacle I'd just witnessed. "I shall interpret your silence as the negative. Unfortunately, all trained medical personnel have vacated this AO."
"What did you… how are you…" I wasn't even to formulate a cohesive question.
"I apologize for the deception, Pilot. I am unable to reveal my genuine operational details in the presence of Militia-affiliated personnel." Although its voice was still largely monotone, there was more inflection to it than before.
My breath began to quicken, an air of unrequited rage beginning to form. "I'm… Militia… affiliated…" I managed to emit, barely able to speak before leaning back and catching myself on my good arm. The adrenalin crash was beginning to take effect, I thought; wouldn't be long before I outright passed out.
"Titan protocols shall always supercede any military affiliation." It stood up again, its joints creaking loudly. "Ready to receive orders, Pilot."
I was lost. Everything was happening so far beyond my capacity; only one thought stood out in my mind. "Are we safe? And what about my dad, my sister? Are they safe? Where are they?" I asked frantically.
"They're gone, kid." The voice came from behind me, and it didn't take long for me to surmise who it was this time, and even less time did it take for them to pass me by and stand next to the Titan. Hermes. I saw he'd procured a pistol, as well several new facial contusions. "All of 'em. They loaded 'em on the carriers, and shipped 'em off to who-knows-where."
My head was spinning, my balance so far off, I almost thought the Titan was making the ground shake again. But there it stood, steady as a rock, in front of me. Hermes holstered his weapon, and took a step forward, kneeling down in front of me. His stance was eerily similar to the way the Titan had posed in front of me before, only contributing to its humanity.
"Now, look: they're gonna circle back and pick off any stragglers. And we're not gonna be here when they do, y'understand?" Hermes tried his damnedest to look me straight in the eye, but I avoided his gaze entirely. Reluctantly, I took his hand, and he pulled me up to a standing position.
"What about my family?" I squeaked quietly, in this mousey little voice.
He took a step back, dragging his feet along the ground. "I'm all ya got right now, kid. Best we focus on makin' it outta here alive, for now." He patted me on the shoulder. "One step at a time." With that, he walked past me, heading for the path to the shuttle dock. I watched as he grew smaller before me, and felt my feet began to move, following directly in his footsteps. Behind me, I heard the pounding of the Titan's footsteps close in tow.
I quickened my pace, and caught up to Hermes in a few moments. He, too, seemed to quicken his pace, if only to try and avoid engaging me in further direct, awkward conversation. "Where are we going?"
"To my shuttle," he quickly retorted.
My eyelids drooped, just like my dad's would when he got fed up. "Yes… I'm aware. Where will we be going once we leave the planet?" I enunciated thoroughly, making it clear I meant business.
"Freeport System." He continued to face forward, barely acknowledging me. "I know a place we can lay low; stay off the grid. Used to run our business through the place; the IMC won't bother us while we figure out our next step." He didn't seem like he wanted to continue talking, ending his sentences abruptly with no room for interference. It was just as well, I supposed, as we neared his shuttle. As I'd feared, only Barker's was missing. No one else made it away in time. I felt my heart flutter, before regaining normalcy.
Hermes quickly ran around to the back of the shuttle, where it tapered into a large boxy compartment undoubtedly for mass transport of our product. Pulling back a latch hidden beneath one of the side panels, a massive garage-style door folded upward, revealing a sizeable, yet hollow and empty, cargo area. "Not the fanciest accommodations, but I wanna draw as little attention as possible."
I put my hand against the frame of the opening. "You sure it's big enough?"
"The hell ya mean 'is it big enough'? Just get in and-" He stopped, just as the Titan arrived at the edge of the dock. His eyes went wide, as his eyes darted between me and the Titan. "No!" He sounded absolutely incredulous. "You're not bringin' that thing with you!"
"Protocol three," the Titan quickly retorted.
"Point taken." Hermes turned, disgruntled, and headed for the cockpit, yelling back to me. "But ya either shut 'er down now and fire 'er up once we land, or leave 'er on the whole time. Titan initialization's been known to screw with nav charts!" His voice waned, and the Titan approached the cargo opening.
I took a step back, signalling it to get in before I did. Nearly said 'Ladies first', then shook my head sheepishly at the thought. Adrenalin crash was truly nearing. "You first," I said, barely commanding any authority. Without a word, the Titan stepped into the opening, nearly causing the ship to tip over as it ducked its head beneath the door. Once it was fully secured, crouching in one corner, I stepped in as well, and quickly turned back toward the outside.
It didn't look too different, the colony. Especially not from all the way out here. The way I saw it, it was the same place I'd lived, loved and worked for… hell, nigh on as long as I could remember, every metal-coated building sending sparkles dancing into air from the still-rising sun. It was about the most cobbled together it ever could've gotten, but, it was beautiful, in its own way. Maybe, even now, I could savor the way it looked. Despite the danger and destruction I'd witnessed, this very image from afar could embody-
"Takin' off, kid! Hang on!" shouted Hermes from somewhere up ahead, as I heard and felt the engines fire up beneath my feet. The cargo door slowly began to crane back down, the view of my home slowly fading and filling my sight with darkness. I fell to my knees, just before I felt the ship leave the ground, the only evidence of my downfall being revealed by the low blue light emanating from the Titan's sensors. As I stared down at my knees, my vision swirled, the rest of my body weakening. Even my shoulder pain began to falter.
"Pilot: your prefrontal neural activity is rapidly declining. If you require rest, you may seek refuge within the cockpit of this chassis."
Yes? No? Couldn't even get the words out. Lucy. Dad. I'm sorry. Wish this wasn't the end. I felt my eyelids drop swiftly, and my world went darker than it had already become.