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An Attack

The shuttle’s antigravity fail-safe kicked in right before impact, as it was designed to do, which is the only reason Hermes, Cam, and the remaining crewman weren’t killed in the crash. Their vessel landed with a loud roar of air, kicking up dust on all sides.

Hermes wrenched free of his twisted seat fastenings, moving on instinct more than anything else. Before it was torn in half, the shuttle warned the crew that the inhabitants of T-446 were not peaceful. He knew he could not remain in one place—especially fastened in one place—because any attackers would find and kill him.

And Cam.

Cam’s snowy white skin was marred with gray ash and a splattering of blood where some metal debris impacted his collarbone and left a gash. His head lolled to one side, eyes rolled back, and Hermes concluded that the sudden loss of oxygen while midair had caused Cam to lose consciousness.

“Cam. Cameron,” Hermes said. He was surprised at how pleading his voice came out—his hands reached out shakily, and he steadied Cam’s head as he came to. As soon as they touched, the world quieted, and Hermes felt a peace wash over himself. Mind calm, he was able to see the beating of Cam’s pulse in his throat and the gentle exhale of his breath and Hermes knew he was alright.

Cam’s wide eyes blinked. He gasped.

Hermes squeezed the sides of his face gently. “Are you conscious?”

Cam nodded.

“We have to go.” He unfastened Cam’s safety belt and turned to the man across the shuttle. He hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was sweating profusely and breathing heavily, at the brink of panic. Hermes hesitated before placing a hand upon the man’s chest. “You are okay,” he said. “We survived the fall.”

To Hermes’ surprise, Cam’s voice sounded from behind him. “Come on, Lyh.” He seemed to have gathered his wits in record time, and was tightening the laces on his boots, though he winced in pain from the injury on his collar. “Get up. Hermes is right; we need to go.”

Hermes recalled the man’s name now that Cam had reminded him. Lyh Haasit, a middle-aged Tarotan translator with gray fur-covered skin and big bull-style horns. Hermes helped him out of the safety belt and together, they exited what was left of their vehicle, and found themselves in a flat, desert-like terrain, with plumes of smoke visible across several points in the horizon. It was with a sudden kick to his chest that Hermes realized—

Dr. Wha was in one of those ships.

He started to move forward but Cam’s hand tightened on his biceps before he took two steps. “Over there. Hermes, look—” His voice was tinged in panic.

Figures wearing black full body suits, faces covered by reflective shields, appeared along the horizon.

Hermes, Cam, and Lyh ducked behind their shuttle debris.

Cam’s hand hadn’t left Hermes’ arm.

“Are either of you trained in combat?” asked Lyh.

“I am not,” Hermes said. Cam shook his head, a little frantically.

“The half of our shuttle that got destroyed was the half with the soldiers,” Lyh said, voice going high at the end, like the panic was getting to him again. “I don’t even have a pistol.”

I’m not going to die like this, Cam thought, and Hermes looked at him.

“What?” asked Hermes.

Cam’s brows pinched in concern. “What?”

“You just—spoke—” without opening his mouth.

Cam’s hand shifted off his arm. “Are you injured?”

Hermes shook his head. No. He felt—

The adrenaline running through him made him feel—

He felt—

Powerf / / ul.

Hermes carefully looked around the corner of the shuttle and saw the two figures gesturing to one another in conversation. One unfastened something on his belt. A black egg-shaped device with a single flashing red strobe.

A memory of eggs came to Hermes unbidden: the first time he ever left the compound where he was created on Earth, the sleek black auto-SUV got egged by protestors waiting by the garage exit. They screamed obscenities and cried about how he shouldn’t exist. Their furious, shrieking faces were distorted by the drooling yellow yolks streaming down the windows, and Hermes felt guilt for the first time. Dr. Wha had patted his arm companionably, though, and his anxiety abated after some time.

“—Mes. Hermes,” Cam hissed at his side. “Get down. They’re going to see you.”

Hermes ducked back down and analyzed his memory. The device seemed familiar. What was it? It certainly wasn’t a chicken’s egg from Earth… No, it was something else. Something far more sophisticated.

“Why were we attacked?” Lyh asked. “We’d already made contact with these people. This makes no sense.”

“We can figure that out when we’re safely aboard Soter. Right now, we need a way to safety—”

A high-pitched whizz tipped Hermes off that something was coming.

And his memory grabbed it. The black egg device was a bomb utilized by rebel groups on Earth and Dromeda.

It was nicknamed the Scatterer.

He grabbed Cam and snatched Lyh’s arm and jumped as far as he could manage just as the bomb impacted their vessel. Flames licked at their feet as they fell away. An eruption of dust clouded them on all sides.

There were distant shouts—in English. English? Not Gacommon, the language most prominently spoken among the space races, but… English, Earth’s most common language?

These people came from Earth, with illegal Earth tech. What were they doing on T-446?

Hermes pushed himself to standing, pulling Cam and Lyh with him. “We have to run,” he said.

Cam’s eyes were welled with tears but he nodded. His hair fell across his beautiful, soot-stained face, and Hermes distinctly understood the concept of brav// ery.

brav·er·y

/ˈbrāv(ə)rē/

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

noun

c// ourageous behavior or character .

// .

The smoke provided cover for a few precious minutes. There was a forest of rocks a quarter mile away. If they could reach it, it would provide ample shelter—at least until Soter could respond to the disaster and deploy rescue.

Lyh was slower than both of them, but Hermes kept him within arm’s reach, ready to throw him forward if they were attacked again. “Keep going,” he said. Lyh grunted in pain but didn’t stop. Their feet pounded on the earth, kicking up dust from the tawny compacted ground. Distantly, there were shouts in English—

“Shit. Get another. Get another one.”

“I see them!”

“I see him!”

“Fucking—do something!”

A now-familiar whizz sounded in the air behind them.

Hermes turned. With perfect, inhuman speed, he raised his hand, and before he could even see the Scatterer, he caught it. His mind wasn’t able to keep up with the speed with his body. He pitched himself backwards, arm flexed, and threw the bomb back at the two Earthlings.

It arched through the air, red light flashing more and more rapidly—

It exploded upon impact against the attackers, sending a spray of red through the air above the thick black smoke.

A beat of silence passed; only the sound of crackling fire and a howling of wind surrounded them.

“Holy fucking shit,” Cam finally said. “You caught it.”

“You threw it,” Lyh gasped. “What was that, 200 feet? Is that even possible? Those guys had a launcher to be able to do that.”

“And you hit them with it,” Cam added. “What the fuck?”

Hermes’ hand was frozen midair where he released the bomb. He looked at his fingers, black with grime, and blinked once or twice. His brain seemed to come back online—like a computer. Maybe he was more robotic than he gave himself credit for.

He turned to Cam and Lyh.

“Yes,” was all he could think to say.

Cam laughed, the sound near-hysterical.

Hermes looked to the other plumes of smoke on the horizon. “I need to go help the other vessels.”

Lyh’s eyes bulged. Cam pointed to the rock tree forest. “Go there, Lyh, and try to connect to Soter. Hermes and I—”

Hermes took a step towards Cam. “No. It is not safe. You should take cover with Haasit.”

Cam continued, ignoring Hermes entirely as he spoke to Lyh, “We’re gonna go find other survivors. Okay? You have a radio, right?”

Lyh looked between the two of them and eventually nodded. “Yeah. I’ll try to transmit a message. Be careful.”

Hermes’ eyes narrowed as Cam started to walk towards one distant wreckage. “I am technically your superior,” Hermes pointed out.

“You can technically suck my dick,” Cam said. Hermes nearly tripped over his own feet and Cam added, “Keep up. We need to move quickly.”

Hermes didn’t want to put Cam in danger—and having him there, hurt and determined, made something tighten within Hermes’ chest. Together, they marched forward.

----------------------------------------

They found her alive.

Dr. Wha jerked backwards when Hermes and Cam appeared at the edge of her vision and then she sagged in relief as tears fell from her shiny, black eyes. “You’re alive,” she cried, pushing off the ground to stand and limping with one leg covered in blood. She picked up speed, running towards them, but Hermes rushed forward instead and caught her.

“You should not walk,” he said, heart thundering in his throat. “You are injured.”

“My leg’s broken,” she said, teeth gritted. “No one else—” A sob broke her sentence in two. “No one else made it.”

Her shuttle was in many pieces, strewn over a half mile radius. Hermes cast a look over the landscape, if only to confirm there were no other survivors crawling from the wreckage. Dr. Wha sagged in his arms.

“Qhat, you don’t look good—” Cam said, leaning in to look into her face.

“I’ve just lost blood,” she said. Her eyes shuttered closed and open. I don’t know if I can make it, she thought. Hermes jerked back.

“Dr. Wha—” his hands tightened into her middle. “Tell me what to do.”

“Nothing. I’ll be okay, Hermes.” She reached out and gently patted the side of his face. She winced. “Sorry. I got blood on you.”

Hermes carefully sat her against a piece of rubble. “I need to apply a tourniquet for your injury,” he said, examining her. He then began to search the area for broken straps—anything to tie off the injury.

Cam rushed to remove his shirt. He snagged one corner with his teeth and pulled until the white fabric ripped in half. “Here. Here,” he kneeled down, handing it to Hermes. “Just tell me what to do—”

“Thank you,” Hermes said before pulling the fabric taut. He wrapped it around Wha’s still-bleeding leg, working quickly. He studied this many times before now, but had never experienced real-world application. His hands felt distant—removed from himself—as he went through the motions. “Is this alright?” he asked, testing the knot he tied.

“That looks great,” Dr. Wha said. “Nice and tight.” She exhaled a slow breath, eyes closing. “I hope Adam hurries up.”

“Captain Shear is undoubtedly enroute right now,” Hermes said.

Dr. Wha huffed out a quiet laugh. Hermes looked up to Cam. Their eyes met and Cam gave him a soft, encouraging smile, and Hermes thought: maybe he would make it out of this after all.

“Look,” Dr. Wha said. “I think—there’s a chance that this whole thing—” a tear slid down her face again, voice hoarse. “I think it’s my fault. I was trying to take care of it alone and that was—so stupid of me, but, I saw how much you were trying to—”

The whizz of the Scatterer came unexpectedly and Hermes wasn’t fast enough. He reached for Cam and Dr. Wha and tried to throw them forward, away from the impact, but it was too close, and the force of the explosion sent them flying, flames licking up his side.

The pain was, in that moment, all-encompassing. He was injured–gravely.

He had never been hurt like this and it was sending strange, unnatural signals through him. It was like his brain was blinking online and off, grappling with a new—unwelcome—sensation.

The three of them landed hard, a few feet apart, against the hard and brittle earth. Cam immediately coughed in pain, groaning, but there was no sound from Dr. Wha.

There was only terrible silence.

Hermes pushed himself up, gritting his teeth against the terrible smell of his own burnt flesh, and crawled over to her. Her chest rose and fell in a breath and he scrambled up to kneeling. She was alive, even if she was silent—

Embedded in her neck was a large white piece of shrapnel, the size of a dinner plate, cut through her throat from one end to the next. Blood gushed from the wound and her mouth opened, closed, opened again.

“Dr. Wha,” Hermes gasped, hands shaking as he reached towards her. Her eyes met his, black to black. She choked one soft, pained sound, and her trembling stopped. Everything stopped. Hermes touched the side of her face, but her eyes didn’t move, and her chest didn’t heave, and her hands were now still at her side.

I love you, she thought as she died, and I’m so sorry.

“Dr, Wha,” he s. / aid a// gain.

A //ll of the keys crashed t//. ogether in a broken

//broke. n

discordant scream and that s// ong;

that familiar, agonizing song drowned e// verything around him

//

“Please,” came a distant, pleading cry. “Hermes, please. Please stand up. Please. We have to move—we have to move, the smoke’s clear—”

Cam’s hands pulled at him.

This time when the whizz of the Scatterer cut through the air, it was Cam that threw them backward, safely out of its path, saving them both. When Hermes looked up, he saw Cam standing bloodied, shirtless, hair loose around his face. Beautif//ul.

beau·ti·ful

/ˈbyo͞odəfəl/

adjective

pleasing the senses or mind.

Cam turned to face something—someone—and Hermes turned his head to see the assailants walking towards them. Cam’s fists tightened as blood dripped from his face. His head darted from side to side, like he was analyzing the environment, but Hermes couldn’t shift around enough to look at whatever it was Cam saw. No, Hermes couldn’t move at all.

“He’s alive,” said one of the attackers.

“I don’t think he can move,” said another. “Look, he’s all burned up.”

“So we can take him in, then.”

“Crazy. Absolutely crazy. We’re going to get so much fucking money, Duc.”

Cam laughed—until it dissolved into a cough. “If you want him, you’ll have to come get him,” he said in English, his Midwestern accent new, unique, and pleasant across Hermes’ blinking consciousness. “And I’m not fucking moving.”

“Oh yeah? You’re gonna stop us?”

Cam took a step back. “Yeah. Come get me,” he said, gesturing them forward. “Come on.”

The attacker took another step forward, cackling, and his accomplice rushed to him and said, “Wait, Duc, I think those cracks are unst—”

The earth caved in. The world shifted until Hermes saw the sky.

Then, nothing.