A Soldier’s Death

The bullet chasings rattled onto the truck bed. A ring of talaborain knights interlocked their shields, surrounding the truck, their shields shimmering as projectiles bounced off them. Their energy was faint, not the particle manipulation Zion was familiar with but enough to stop small calibers and energy ricochets. Sapphire shielded Zyhara with her body underneath the truck, both females’ energies flashing.

Half of what was left of the Zion military was in or around the truck, the rest fighting below as Rachel reigned down fire above. She circled above the cargo truck, as they had emplaced on the high ground. She was desperately exhausted; her limbs numb from hacking and fighting. Even with the power boost from the death of her friends, the enemy horde was wearing her down.

Her men had dug hasty defensive fighting positions, emplaced the heavy guns, and fighting for their lives after the charge into the village had been repulsed. In the distant valley, companies of more knights and foot soldiers charged forward, attempting to reach their wounded liege, and come to the aide of the surrounded Zion soldiers.

As Rachel circled above, she saw dozens of bright red fire circles open in the air, more enemies pouring out as they regrouped. The numbers made up for what the Axium lacked in armor or scourges. Wave after wave of sheer, suicidal numbers. Their soldiers were ill-equipped, rushing forward screaming in a blood rage, and were cut down with ease by the professional soldiers. But for every Knight or Trooper, there were ten enemies.

Rachel consolidated her fire and dove to land by the truck, taking advantage of the lull in the fighting. Her energy flickered, and she fell a few feet in the air. Her eyes shut closed, the crips smoke-filled wind jolting her awake. She reignited her form, sparing her a crash landing as she smashed into the mud.

She spat blood unto the ground, pulling out her rifle and loading it. The knights parted as Sapphire came running forward. Her arm was in a sling, her head and legs bandaged, red staining through the white silk. She painfully knelt near Rachel, offering her canteen.

Rachel chugged the water, then choked, immediately throwing up.

“You are overexerting yourself,” Sapphire huffed, worry in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” Rachel spat, leveling the rifle and sending a bullet into the forehead of an enemy who had been prowling up the hill.

Sapphire winced from the gun sound.

“Even with your miraculous new powers, you cannot sustain this,” Sapphire shook her head.

“This ends when they’re dead,” Rachel huffed, shooting another round.

Sapphire nervously looked up at the sky.

“Where are they?” She murmured.

Rachel also looked up through the smoke and embers. The stars were beginning to show.

“They’re coming. Must be,” Rachel nodded.

A sound caught their attention, Rachel immediately pointing to their left. A lone rider on a black Artue was galloping towards them, bearing the colors of the Knights of Talabor. As the rider approached, both women rose, walking towards him.

The rider heeled his mount, the great beast rearing, its four front legs curling as it roared, stomping into the bloody mud.

“His Majesty sends greetings and dark tidings!” The rider called; his words slowly translated after Rachel’s translator had adapted.

Sapphire pulled out a handheld translator as the two walked up to his side.

“What’s going on?” Rachel grunted.

A moment passed as the radio translated, a metallic female voice sounding out the words in Talaborian.

“The black armies march on our holds. We are besieged to the south; our host must march back to stem the dark tide,” The messenger said.

Rachel cursed as Sapphire shook her head.

“How many fuckers have these guys got?” Rachel spat to Sapphire.

“Where is his majesty?” Sapphire asked with wide eyes.

“He is beyond the enemy’s lines; he has rallied the holy order; they will soon charge forth and join with you here upon this hill,” The messenger nodded.

“He’s not going back to defend his castle?” Rachel asked in surprise.

“The Knights of Talabor shall honor our oath, milady!” The messenger said proudly, pressing his drawn sword to his armored chest. His black hair gently waved in the smoke choked wind, as he stood like a figure out of history. His stone cold face determined, framed by dust, dried blood, and exhaustion.

Rachel gave a faint smile.

“Tell his majesty we are grateful; the knights of Zion will come to Talabor’s aide just as they did for us here,” Sapphire nodded.

The messenger nodded, raising his sword in a salute as he wheeled his war mount around.

“Glory and honor to the courageous fallen!” The messenger bellowed, charging away.

“Glory and honor,” Rachel softly said.

She looked over at Sapphire, sighing.

“Don’t say it,” Sapphire rolled her eyes.

“Oh, now she doesn’t want to hear that crisp “you were right?”” Rachel chortled.

“I regret everything I said,” Sapphire huffed.

The two were silent as distant roars and horns sounded beyond the fog.

“Round two, I guess,” Rachel grunted.

“Should we try and move down into the valley, give the knights less ground to cover?” Sapphire asked.

“Visibility is bad enough up here; I can barely see down there. Once they get close enough, we’ll go mobile; till then, let the guns eat,” Rachel said.

Sapphire nodded and began walking back toward the truck.

“Hey,” Rachel called. Sapphire turned.

“You’re a good acolyte. You’re going to make a damn good professor one day,” Rachel said.

Sapphire nodded.

“And you are a good leader. They should have made you an officer; I am sorry for my harsh words,” Sapphire sighed.

Rachel scoffed.

“I’m fine with my stripes, princess; we got a war to win here,” Rachel laughed.

Sapphire gave a weary smile and walked back into the shield wall.

Rachel reached into her medical pouch and pulled out some stim chems. She injected the tube into her thigh, her chest compressing and her lunges contracting as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

In the distance, the distant call of Talaborian war horns sounded, the soft thunder of hooves drawing closer on one side, the rhythmic thumping of marching enemy on the other. Rachel rose into the air, the valley of destruction panning out before her. She drew her bow and notched an arrow. A distant pop reached her ears as she was about to send it. High above in the sky, a distant orange blip had appeared.

Rachel nearly wept, joy coursing through her. She fell to the ground, landing roughly, Sapphire and Zyhara running up to her side.

“Is that?” Zyhara asked hesitantly.

“Fucking Zion!” Rachel laughed, clutching her head with both hands as she nearly cried.

As the orange blip grew larger, they watched the shuttle entering the atmosphere with wonder.

“Ho man. I can’t wait to watch the Air Wing decimate these guys. I hope they use napalm!” Rachel grinned.

“There’s only one shuttle,” Sapphire said slowly.

“Just wait, that’s got to be the advance scouts. I bet there are warships and at least ten taskforces en route right now!” Rachel grinned.

They waited, the shuttle descending rapidly. The enemy noticed it too, and the three watched in horror as a firestorm erupted, careening for the lone craft landing.

“What are they doing?!” Zyhara asked, appalled.

“Scouts do not directly insert; it's suicide against such a massive force!” Sapphire said.

Realization raked icy cold fingers through Rachel’s mind, her joy melting away.

“Those aren’t scouts,” Rachel said dryly. “That’s all the help we’re getting.”

“What?!” Sapphire screeched.

“Either that thing is jam-packed with scourges and Anna, or someone fucked up,” Rachel gritted her teeth.

“Then what are we doing here? We need to help them! C’mon!” Zyhara shouted.

The little girl sprinted towards the truck, the knights following. Rachel and Sapphire looked at one another. Rachel stood up, forming both fists.

“No matter what happens, she gets on that bird. I don’t care if you must drag her unto it; she will get home. Do you understand?” Rachel grunted.

Sapphire shook her head slowly.

“Promise me,” Rachel growled.

“We all go home,” Sapphire stammered with wide eyes.

“Promise me no matter what, on your life, she will get home, Sapphire!” Rachel grunted, grabbing Sapphire’s good arm.

Sapphire’s eyes widened as she nodded her head vigorously.

“Go, now!” Rachel shouted, shoving Sapphire away.

Rachel sprang into the air, racing towards the descending shuttle. Below her, the knights of Talabor were charging forward, about to enter the fire ridden fog. Rachel descended and saw King Alexander severely wounded, strapped to his saddle, rage in his eyes. She hovered before him, matching their speed, pointing to the shuttle.

He looked over and nodded, signaling to his men. The calvary wheeled, following as Rachel turned, and flew full speed into the fog. As she raced forward, distant bright lights pierced the dark smog. Energy signatures, the sounds of explosions, and death were all too familiar to her. She smiled; at least she was not the only scourge now.

Underneath her, the Talaborians smashed into the enemy flank, who had also wheeled to charge the incoming Zion reinforcements. The death calls and clang of metal rang out as steeds trampled the enemy, the Knights carving deeply into the horde.

Rachel pushed on, shooting as many arrows as possible, peppering the landscape with grey fire. Soon, she reached the edge of the fog; something was odd. The horde had faltered. She hovered in midair and saw the Gurgen that had killed Professor Abraham. It was charging forward.

Worry filled her; they weren’t ready for that thing. She propelled forward, trying to reach them. But then the Gurgen collapsed; some fool had climbed onto it. As she watched, the warrior began hacking into the giant. She grinned; she knew only one idiot in the entire cosmos with the balls to charge a Gurgen head-on.

Rachel descended, coming close to the ground above the horde that was now retreating, reaching the massive corpse. General Lion stood on top, holding the Gurgen head over his own, shouting his usual gibberish.

“Fear me, enemies of the Great Truth!” Lion roared.

His golden hair glowed, several feet long, his grey skin perfect, his form seemed to be encased in golden light as fire lapped from his body.

“All hail the mighty Prince of Laydra!” Rachel scoffed loudly in his language.

Lion whirled around, fire in his orange eyes, axes bared. He recognized the angel of death and held his axes up his head, dancing.

“Rachel! Oh, fuck yeah, what’s up?!” Lion happily called, reverting to human form.

Projectiles flew towards them, but Rachel displaced them with her energy, safely landing on the giant, her massive wings protecting them. Lion’s eyes widened.

“Um, did you like grow or something?” Lion asked nervously, staring at her wings.

Rachel hugged the General, surprising him.

“It’s so good to see you,” Rachel said softly.

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Lion hugged her back.

They backed away as explosions ripped through the fleeing horde. Below her, Rachel saw even more scourges, bounding forward with special assaults.

“New guys?” Rachel asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Call themselves the Vagabonds, real assholes. You’re gonna love 'em,” Lion laughed.

“Yo!” A male voice called.

Rachel looked down and saw a man approaching. His dark black mop of hair, mismatched eyes, sharp face, gold flame dancing around his skinny yet built physique. A golden lance of energy in his right hand, a round shield in his left hand.

Rachel laughed.

“Really? A spartan? That is so fucking original,” Rachel scoffed.

The man cocked his head, his mismatched green and grey eyes piercing her, a scowl on his face. That was something off about him; she could feel it. His body shimmered with a grey light only she could see. The scent of death was more of a pungent stench expelled from him, distracting her new senses. As he walked, blood seemed to seep from his boots into the ground, leaving crimson footprints in his wake. He was a very, very old soul. He had lived more lives than even she had.

Distant memories flickered through her mind. Of the vision she had seen when Rachel had ascended. She didn’t remember him but recalled his aurora. Was this the General her mother had told her to find from the first life?

Rachel leaped off the giant, slamming into the blood-soaked ground. Her energetic wings flickered as she strode towards him.

“I’m guessing you’re Rachel,” He drawled.

He was not normal. Most male scourges eyed her like a piece of meat or were scared by her wings and power. He didn’t even bat an eye.

Lion clambered down rapidly, standing beside them.

“Rachel, meet Nameless. Nameless, Rachel,” Lion smiled, gesturing with his hands.

“Where’s the Princess?” Nameless asked dryly.

“Nice to meet you too, asshole,” Rachel chortled.

“Where is she?” He said again monotonal.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Rachel seethed, looking at nervous Lion.

“Yeaaaaah, um see, he’s kinda, basically you, but as a guy. And Nameless, buddy, c’mon, she’s cool peeps!” Lion grinned, his eyes wide, hands outstretched.

An explosion erupted behind them. A Russian soldier sprinted around the giant, his Cossack sword and round shield sparkling made of purple energy.

“Where is the princess?” he shouted in a heavy accent.

“They won’t fucking tell me,” Nameless called.

Rachel scowled and got in the dark man’s face, pointing her finger.

“Listen fucker, you don’t get to just stroll unto my A.O and act like you’re in charge here, okay? I lost most of my team fighting these assholes!” She seethed.

Nameless grabbed her hand, their energies sparking and intermingling as he pointed the finger away.

“Oh boy,” Lion said nervously, backing away.

“Next time you get in my face and point that finger at me, you’re losing it,” Nameless said dryly. He then let her hand go and strolled to the Russian.

“On me, Vagabonds, find the princess and the team members!” Nameless ordered, walking away.

Rachel stood in place, her mouth hanging, her eye twitching. Pure, unadulterated rage burning in her chest, all grey disappearing as black flame spat from her, her eyes turning into pitch-black pools of tar.

“You little-” Rachel’s voice shrilled.

Rachel began to spring forward, but Lion tackled her, fully encased in gold.

“Hey, hey, hey! Same side, same fucking side!” Lion heaved.

“I’m gonna kill him!” Rachel boomed.

“You can try,” Nameless’s voice called from behind the giant’s body.

Rachel’s flames shot out like a rocket, her anger literally propelling her into the air, Lion dangling from her.

“Quit it, Rachel! Godman it, this shit burns ya know?!” Lion shouted.

“Get off me!” Rachel shrilled.

“No!” Lion roared.

Rachel slammed into the ground, shooting a long beam of raw energy into the ground. As Rachel finished shouting, she looked up. Nameless and a woman with a silver arm were eyeing her like a child throwing a fit.

“Ya done?” The blonde woman asked, head cocked.

Had Sapphire been Norwegian instead of English, that was precisely what this woman seemed like.

“That’s Julia,” Lion huffed, patting small fires off himself.

Rachel looked at them all.

“She’s in a truck protected by my men,” Rachel sighed.

“Was that so hard?” Julia asked.

Rachel gave Lion a murderous look. He shrugged, holding up both hands.

“I’m gonna love them, huh?” Rachel spat.

“I did say they were assholes,” Lion chuckled.

The group walked around the Gurgen, the fog lifting as the battle waned. In the distance, eerie red light glowed in the distorting fog as the horde seemed to portal off-world. Overhead, the shuttle came in for a strafing run, unleashing machine guns and rockets into the fleeing enemy.

As Rachel walked, she examined these new scourges and assaults. These non-enhanced were top tier; there was no greenness to them. Their auras were even darker than the Zion troopers. From what Rachel could sense, each had been killing since childhood. Their leaders, Nameless and Julia, strode forward like generals. They had a silent air of confidence, no bravado, merely the steel cold attitude of people who had led men into chaos before.

As the task force walked through the destruction, the remaining Knights of Talabor came striding forward in formation. Behind them, the Zion truck rumbled into view. King Alexander trotted before the leaders. He bowed his head, saluting with his sword.

“I am grateful for the aide, Knights of Zion,” He called.

Rachel walked past the new arrivals, standing beside the King, holding out her hand.

“You’re hurt,” She spoke softly. “You need medical treatment.”

The King grimaced, denying the hand, blood soaking his saddle.

“I am fine, my lady. My fight has but begun,” He grunted.

Rachel could see his life force draining; he didn’t have long. She leaned in.

“Either you get down from there like a King, or I rip you out of it like the child you are. Your people need you alive, Alex,” She whispered.

The King chuckled, nodding. He began painfully fumbling with his saddle straps. Rachel reached upward and began undoing the blood-stained leather.

“I need a medic!” She called behind her.

As Rachel continued undoing the straps, a petite brunette girl wearing a skull cap ran beside them. Her eyes widened seeing the magnificent Artue, but she quickly overcame her wonder, going to the other side and undoing the straps.

“You got him?” The medic called.

“Yeah, one, two, three,” Rachel huffed.

The King slowly descended from his saddle, Rachel holding him. As his weight fell into her arms, the King’s Bodyguard swiftly dismounted, coming to their lieges help. The soldiers gently lowered Alexander down beside a burned-out stump.

The medic came around, taking off her backpack and ripping it open. As Rachel watched, she realized the Talaborians had all dismounted and were watching with wide eyes. She had forgotten her wings were still formed.

As her wings flickered, about to disappear, Nameless walked over.

“I’d keep those out if I were you,” He whispered.

“The fuck you know?” Rachel seethed.

“As someone who used to worship Gods and magical beings, I’m telling you right now it means the world to them seeing you like this, helping him.”

Rachel studied the man. She was still furious with him, and she was definitely going to deck him when they got back, but he had a point. She sighed and focused all of her energy on her wings. The long blame flames melted away, revealing pitch-black raven feathers glimmered with grey light. The sight of the woman with black wings would have seemed demonic, evil-looking. Yet her beauty and energy gave her the look of a guardian angel rather than that of death.

The Vagabonds gathered around as the King Alexander as the medic began administering chems and wrapping his puncture wounds with combat gauze.

“He’s lost a lot of blood; he needs to lay down for a few weeks,” The medic said gravely.

“What is your name, my lady?” Alexander said softly.

“It’s Sammy,” The medic said, not looking up from her work.

“And what is your clan, brave knights?” He winced.

“We’re the Vagabonds,” One of the assaults said.

He was a massive man, his muscled arms and barrel chest framed by his sniper gear, long dreads tucked under his hood, and dark skin glistening with sweat.

“Clan Vagabond,” The King painfully chuckled. “That is an odd name for such mighty warriors.”

“This is King Alexander; he saved us during the battle. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his men,” Rachel huffed.

Two professors came into view; it was Thaddeus and Cirilla. Relief filled Rachel; at least there was some decent folk here.

“Zion thanks you for your help, your Majesty. If we can be of any further assistance, you have but to merely ask,” Thaddeus said softly.

“Ah, more white hairs. I am truly sorry for your loss,” The King said gravely.

Shock and pain-filled both professors' faces.

“What do you mean, loss?” Cirilla choked.

Before the King could respond, movement caught the group’s eyes. The knights were parting like a sea as Sapphire and Zyhara slowly walked toward them.

“Sapphire,” Thaddeus gasped with a tear-filled voice.

Both professors ran forward, nearly tackling Sapphire. Sapphire was weeping, her chest heaving as her parents held her close. Rachel felt sorry for her. As the Zion family embraced, Zyhara gently ran up to Rachel and hugged her.

“Hey, kiddo,” Rachel said softly, patting her head.

Zyhara was silent, clinging to Rachel to dear life.

“Is this?” Nameless cautiously started.

Rachel nodded.

Nameless knelt, looking Zyhara in the eye.

“Your Majesty, my name is commander Nameless; we’re here to take you home,” he said in a kind tone.

Zyhara backed away, looking at them all.

“I’ve never seen so many scourges,” she said with wide eyes.

Her gaze fell to Lion, who was looking at her arms crossed with an arched eyebrow. She giggled, looking at the ground.

“Hi, General,” she said softly.

“Don’t you “hi general” me young lady, guess we didn’t learn anything from last time, huh missy?” Lion barked.

“Hey! Easy on her!” Rachel spat.

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” Zyhara said distantly, her eyes misty.

Lion sighed, coming over as Nameless stood.

“We’re just glad you’re all right,” Lion spoke.

Zyhara looked over at the carnage, her lip trembling.

“Why would they do this?” She asked softly, her young voice shaking.

The group was silent as Rachel put a hand on the Princess’s shoulder.

“You mind?” Rachel asked Nameless, head tilting to the shuttle.

He nodded, putting his finger on his headset.

“Earhart, begin extraction at our location,” He spoke.

Julia and the Russian walked away, pulling out smoke grenades.

As the orange smoke rose skyward, Rachel knelt beside the King. The medic was finishing up bandaging him. She reached into her bag and pulled out some bottles of pills.

“Swallow two of these per day and wash it down with water. Preferably on a full stomach,” Sammy said, handing them to him. The King nodded gratefully, looking at the plastic bottles with puzzled wonder. Rachel sighed, grabbed one, and showed him how to open it. After giving it back to him, he grasped her hand.

“The people of Talabor owe you and your kin a debt that can never be repaid,” The King whimpered.

“We’re soldiers. We signed up for this,” Rachel huffed.

“The Knights of Talabor will always be ready to answer your call, my lady,” Alexander said softly.

Rachel nodded, smiling.

“Do not downplay your worth, Rachel, daughter of Zion. None of us would have made it without you,” Alexander faintly smiled.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Alex,” Rachel grinned, satisfied that his life force had stopped draining.

The King painfully chuckled as the shuttled roared downward, its engines scattering ash and blowing around debris. The shuttle touched down, its cargo door opening. Rachel stood and nodded to Zyhara. She thanked the King, and walked forward. The Zion family walked as one behind her as they all gathered near the shuttle, taking count.

Rachel faced the Vagabonds.

“Where are the rest of the survivors?” Nameless asked.

Rachel looked behind her at the two remaining Zion troopers and five survey team members as they came forward.

“We’re it,” She sighed.

She expected some kind of smart response or questions. But all she got was a profoundly knowing look from Nameless.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Where are you close with any of them?”

Rachel was quiet.

“Yeah,” she said darkly. “Yeah, I was.”

“There isn’t much of a time hack; we can hold this place down while retrieving the bodies,” Lion said gently.

“I’d like that,” Rachel choked.

The Vagabonds nodded, dispersing to set in for security.

Alexander re-laid commands to his men, and the Knights began searching the field for the Zion fallen. Rachel walked alone; she knew where each lay. She slowly made her way to the pastures, seeing a body with bright orange hair. She gently knelt in the mud alongside Mathew.

She pulled off his dog tags, stowing them in her pocket. She then pulled out her poncho and laid it over his mangled body. As she knelt, she held her hand to her mouth, tears forming as her chest heaved. Every ounce of pain left her body as she sobbed. She pounded the ground with her fist, gritting her teeth. It should have been her. It always should have been her. Here was another friend, dead because of her.

Footsteps caught her attention as she wiped the snot on her sleeve.

“Fuck off!” She croaked with gritted teeth.

The figure drew closer as Lion came and knelt beside her, taking off his helmet.

The two were silent.

“Matt, right? Ugly ginger kid?” Lion asked softly.

Rachel scoffed, sniffling.

“We served together on task force Ishtar; he was a good guy,” Lion sighed.

“It should have been me. Fucking asshole charged in trying to save me,” Rachel sobbed.

Lion was silent, looking around.

“What the hell happened here, Rachel?” Lion asked, eyebrows high as his eyes searched.

Rachel threw up her arms, shaking her head wildly.

“It all went wrong the moment they got here; literally everything fell apart-” Rachel choked, her tears cutting her off.

Lion wrapped an arm around her.

“It’s okay. Hey, look at me, Rachel, it’s not your fault, you hear me? This ain’t your fault,” Lion said firmly.

“It’s always my fault!” Rachel cried, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“No, no, it ain’t.” Lion shook his head. He smiled, pulling out his bandana and wiping the tears from her face.

“You’re a really ugly crier, ya know that?” Lion chortled.

Rachel punched him in his chest as he laughed.

“Fuck you.”

“There she is! There’s the bad bitch I fucking love! C’mon, let’s get gingersnap on that bird and get the fuck out of here.”

He stood up and held a hand out.

“I will personally make sure he gets back to Armenium. Political privileges and all that, you’re coming too. So, let’s go,” Lion said solemnly.

Rachel took his hand and was hoisted up. Lion dusted her off, thumping her back.

“This is our job, right?” Lion asked firmly, looking her in the eye.

“This is our fucking job,” Rachel seethed through gritted teeth.

“Atta girl. C’mon,” Lion said.

The two each grabbed opposite ends of the body and began carrying him to the shuttle. Rachel couldn’t stand holding him; she wanted to switch roles, bring him back, anything but this. As they walked, time seemed to crawl by.

Finally, they reached the Earhart, gently laying the body down next to the others. They had to stack the bodies on top of one another in the far back like wood to fit everyone. The aircrew was grim, throwing out anything nonessential to get extra room. Zyhara stood with the Zion family, her face hollow as she watched the people sent to save her stacked to the ceiling of the shuttle.

Rachel desperately wanted to distract the Princess, stop her from seeing it all, smelling it, but there was no escape from reality. She watched in real-time as something inside the little girl died.

Once everything was ready, Nameless and Rachel walked over to Zyhara and King Alexander, who was once again on his feet, held upright by two Knights.

“It’s been an honor, your Majesty,” Rachel said.

“The honor is mine, my lady,” Alexander smiled.

The King looked down at the Princess.

“Your Majesty, if I may, there is something I would like to say,” Alexander asked.

Zyhara looked up, startled.

“What is it?” She stammered.

“I know not the vastness of your Kingdom, nor do I dare pretend to understand the weight that your crown may one day bear upon your head. But, from one ruler to a future one, remember this day. War is not song and tale. It is blood, suffering, a bloody and wretched business. When the time comes, and you are insulted by another ruler or baited into conflict due to some ruse of the ego: remember these days.

“Soldiers are not wooden playthings or pieces aboard. They live and breathe as we do, do not squander the precious gift of their loyalty. Remember to never ask them to do a task you would not do. You must always show far more courage than your bravest man. For that, is to be a proper King or Queen,” Alexander smiled, pinching her cheek.

Zyhara nodded firmly, her eyes piercing with resolve.

“Farewell, Knights of Zion,” Alexander smiled.

“Goodbye, King Alexander,” Rachel nodded.

Zyhara and Rachel walked towards the shuttle, the Vagabonds beginning to board.

Suddenly, the sky shattered. The ground shook as the sky became blood red. Each person either drew their weapon or ignited their energy. Zyhara looked up at Rachel with terror as explosions and gunfire erupted.

The shuttle's guns roared as the Zion family charged out. An entire new wave of enemies smashed directly into the shuttle, materializing from thin air. Phasers. The cloaked assassins dove at the Princess. Rachel and Nameless stood nearly back-to-back, Zyhara in the center of them, killing any who got close.

Rachel ran around the shuttle, trying to see what was ahead. The sight before her was grim. There are dozens of Gurgen, thousands of enemies, many more phasers, aircraft, and the very sky filling with black ships. The enemy was so close to the shuttle that they couldn’t board unless someone stayed behind.

Rachel ran back around, picked up the Princess, and threw her in the shuttle. She then pushed the Zion family onboard.

“Take off!” Rachel roared at the aircrew.

The vagabonds formed a circle around the shuttle.

Lion ran up to Rachel.

“The fuck are you doing?” Lion roared.

“Giving you guys time, get on board!” Rachel screamed.

“Not without you!” Lion shouted.

Rachel shook her head, the two sharing a look.

Lion held out his open palm, Rachel taking it.

“This is our job,” Lion said.

Rachel looked over Nameless.

“Get the fuck on board!” She shouted.

“We don’t leave Vagabonds behind!” Nameless roared, splitting a Phaser in two with a swipe of his burning lance.

Rachel looked at the rest of the Vagabonds. She could see their fear, their auras flickering. But still, they stood. Rachel waved off the crew chief, who shouted into her headset. The crew chief leaned into her machine gun, unleashing a hailstorm of fire as she cut down dozens of Axium members, her eyes blazing balls of fury underneath her visor. Up ahead, both pilots had their pistols drawn, shooting point blank out of the opened windows, as their ship guns fired off.

Thaddeus and Cirilla held each of Zyhara’s arms as she struggled and screamed, trying to leave the shuttle. Sapphire was pressing her hands against the shuttle's hull, boosting its shields with her energy.

The cargo bay door closed as the shuttle took off, enemy clinging to the landing gear and sides. The vagabonds shot them down, burning a circle into the horde. Rachel’s wings ignited, her form taking to the sky, bow drawn. This was it. She exhaled deeply, accepting her fate. The soldier’s death. At least she would meet everyone she had known soon.