Flying had never felt like this before. Malan had always loved it, of course. When they had lived planetside, he’d taken his father’s skimmer out across the plains. With the top down, the wind would whip around him like a tempest, battering against watering eyes and rushing through his hair like glacier water.

Back then, he’d weave between trees and rock formations as fast as it would take him, heart soaring as he narrowly avoided the terrain. The faster he could go, the further he could push his luck, the better. As he’d grown into his late teens, he’d moved on somewhat from having to push things quite so far for thrills. However, he’d never moved on from the sheer joy of piloting a ship, and even on the Jauda, he’d taken every opportunity to pilot the small transport and supply shuttles that made daily trips to and from the station.

Nothing had ever come close, however, to that wind-through-the-hair exhilaration of flying his Dad’s skimmer, pushing the absolute limits of his abilities.

Nothing—until now.

Malan leant forward as the force of acceleration within his relatively small craft tried to force him back. It was odd to be so aware of his own body with one part of his consciousness, whilst another felt as though he were experiencing things from the ship’s perspective. One part of his mind stood on Tanwen’s bridge, clutching the control pillars, and another hurtled through deep space.

It was the second part that had sweat rolling down his face, however, and it was this same part that had evoked those memories of flying as a boy. Even in the grimmest imaginable circumstances, he hadn’t been able to hold back the joyous grin plastered on his face. He urged Tanwen on, directly at the Sparrow, almost able to feel the wind rushing through his messy, matted black hair once more.

Elena’s ship was now clearly visible ahead, its short range laser beating back a crowd of a good dozen Abyssal Viphics. The broad-winged creatures swarmed the helpless vessel, its laser only strong enough to push back the Viphics, not actually kill them. Elena would knock one back whilst others swooped across to the other side of her vessel, and clawed and ripped at the shields, clinging to the hull with jet-black talons.

Malan knew from his experience on the Jauda that as soon as the Sparrow’s shields failed, those talons would tear apart its hull like a fresh-killed carcass—and tear apart those inside even easier.

He glanced back, and his grin grew as he spotted the reaching limbs of the Fiend still chasing close behind him. They were finally close enough, and neither the Fiend nor the Viphics had realised the situation they were in.

“Tanwen, its time to make some noise, start targeting the Viphics around the Sparrow. We want to pull as many of them away as possible, but I can’t do that and maintain this speed.”

“Affirmative, Pilot. I believe I have ascertained your plan. Clever, but risky. Are you certain Captain Vasquez is capable of making the jump in time?”

Malan nodded. “She’s experienced as all hell. And as much as Thaddeus is a doctor not a pilot, Elena had all of us drilled before she was willing to fly with us just in case of emergencies. He’s capable of seconding her.”

Tanwen didn’t respond with anything but the subtle hum of their weapons system powering up. There was a slight pull on the engine power, followed by a slight loss of speed, and Malan ground his teeth as he fought to keep them ahead of the reaching tentacles of their pursuer.

The pounding of their weapons shook them slightly as they exploded into life, firing bursts of Celestial Energy at the distant Viphics with the precise rhythm of a blacksmith’s hammer. They had plenty of time to notice—they would have had to get far closer for guaranteed kill shots—but that was the point. Heads turned, and those not already attached to the hull of the Sparrow scattered.

Now the abominations had a choice: new prey or old, stay and risk being picked off or leave and be an easy target? There was no cohesion in their response. A smaller pair broke off immediately, and opted to flee altogether, whilst the largest group opted to rush the new enemy.

Malan’s grin grew at the sight. They were bearing down on the Sparrow now, and he could clearly see the remaining few Viphics still attacking his old ship were too prey-frenzied to have noticed him, but their reduced numbers were making for an easier fight for Elena to manage.

The reduction in shield pressure should give him time to reach the Sparrow before they breached it, leaving him with only one thing to focus on.

“Captain?” he said, communications opening in response to his thoughts.

“Loud and clear, Malan,” came Elena’s now ragged voice, alongside the sounds of their laser firing almost constantly.

“We’re coming in at full speed, right at you. Be ready to jump the moment the Abyss are clear.”

He heard her start to speak then hesitate, and her next words were laced in a strange mix of horror, awe and respect. “Are you playing chicken with these things, you crazy bastard?”

“If you can come up with a better plan to keep these things off your hull in the next 45 seconds, I’m all ears?”

“Nope. If it’s a choice between dying in a catastrophic explosion, or being torn apart by those things, I’m choosing the boom every time. Whatever happens, it was a privilege. Do your thing, Starbound.”

The communicator clicked off, and Malan’s jaw hung as Elena’s sign off rang around in his ears. Starbound. A title he’d worked his entire life for. It was one thing to know you were one; it was quite another to hear somebody else—somebody you respected—acknowledge it. He, Malan, the scrubber of sensor arrays. Taster of Beric’s boot. A person who’d spent his last two years wallowing in grief and pain—who had given up on everything—was one of the Starbound.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

The words rang around in his ears even as he turned his attention towards the Viphics surging towards him, teeth bared and snarling. Tanwen’s guns let loose, shredding the closest beast’s right wing, sending it spiralling away through space as it lost control of its directional movement.

He turned his attention to the next, and this time the burst of Celestial energy tore into its torso, blowing bloody chunks away from its body until the third shot tore separated its top half from the lower.

Abyssal Vephid [Lv. 5] Killed

Enemy of a higher level killed. Bonus Celestial Energy Harvested.

The next two came at him as a pair, and his shots spilt the difference between them until he picked a single target to focus on, clipping it as it flew past him. Gritting his teeth, Malan launched the ship into a desperate swerve to avoid the second, only for it to graze one of its vicious talons down their flank.

The scream tore free from his throat before he became aware of the searing pain that exploded across his own side, sending him to his knees and clutching at his stomach. He was dimly aware of Tanwen taking control of the ship’s controls as his hands left the pillars, and of the guns stopping.

He felt moisture on his hands, hot and tacky, and raised his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and his hands—now slick with crimson liquid—shook as the reality of what he was seeing set in.

Around him, alarms blared once again, and notifications flooded the viewscreens at the front of the bridge, but Malan only half saw them, his eyes locked on his bloodstained hands. Hesitantly, he shifted and pawed at his side, dizzying pain lancing through him as his fingers met a deep laceration along his side.

“It—it wounded my actual body?”

Tanwen’s voice was strained, as though he too, was in pain. “I apologise. I should have warned you when you ordered the shields powered down. We are one, Pilot. Damage to our hull, is damage to us. They are wheeling back around for another round of attacks, Pilot.”

All the euphoria of flight had burned away to ashes, as though all the adrenaline keeping him going had flooded out of his system—washed out by the flow of blood. All the exhaustion, all the horror seeped back into him like winter. Standing suddenly seemed like too much. His legs were like jelly, and arms leaden.

On the screens, he could see a trio of Viphics hurtling at them, and the Fiend still close behind, a deadly pincer, and all he could think was at least he could finally rest when it closed on them.

“Hull integrity is still intact at seventy-two per cent, Pilot. Your pain, your exhaustion, is also my own. However, I cannot perform the evasive manoeuvres required without both of our input. If you do not stand, we will not survive long enough to reach the Sparrow.”

Malan wanted to cry. Scream. Sleep. Anything but stand again and keep fighting. Do your thing, Starbound. It wasn’t fair. Why him? He’d lost everything. Suffered plenty. Suffered more than his fair share. Why did it have to be him? Starbound. Do your thing, Starbound.

He curled his right fingers into a fist, and threw a right hook into the cold metal of the floor. Pain rocketed through him again, but this pain was his. His choice. Not done to him, but by him. He didn’t try and hold back the guttural roar of pain this time, he let it loose and poured all of his fear and pain and frustration into it, before hauling himself to his feet in one movement.

Malan gripped the control pillars tight to keep himself upright, and tried to ignore the warmth of the blood now seeping through his clothes as he once again become one with Tanwen.

The Viphics were already launching into their stooping dives toward him, and Malan immediately launched into a fierce twisting dive, allowing the first two to pass on either side of him, just out of reach, whilst Tanwen let loose their guns on the final enemy. Behind them, he saw one of the creature’s he’d avoided escape, but the other drew the attention of the Fiend bearing down on him, and was torn apart viciously without the creature slowing even a little.

Malan hissed in pain as the Fiends roving tentacles forced him to swerve violently after his dive, before he surged right at the Sparrow once more.

The flow of blood now seeped into his trouser leg, trickling down the outside of his thigh and dripping from the side of his shirt onto the cold metallic floor, but Malan forced himself to ignore the black spots now swimming across his vision, his eyes locked tight to the Sparrow.

The Viphics still on its hull had broken through the shields and had started to strip sheets of metal off of the outside of the Sparrows hull. However, they had now also noticed him, and had paused to stare in their direction. Malan tried to think what it looked like from their perspective—seeing his craft hurtling towards them, followed too close behind by the monstrous Fiend and what few Viphics had stayed with them.

They stayed stock still for too long, almost disbelieving, refusing to accept that Malan would actually crash into them and the Sparrow, so he did the only thing he could think of to prove his seriousness.

“Kill the weapons, Tanwen. Everything to the engines—now!”

The extra power nearly took his breath away, and Malan immediately put everything he had into one, final sprint. He saw the surprise, close enough now to make out facial features. Too close. He grit his teeth, and committed, surging past the point of no return. They still hesitated. Far too close. Malan could see the bent and torn hull panels where they’d tried to break through. Seconds.

Fuck. Now or never. Malan clenched his eyes shut and braced for the impact that would end everything and—nothing.

He took deep, ragged breaths, eyes still clenched shut.

“The Sparrow has made its jump, Pilot. They have left the System.”

The faint ring of notifications had him opening his eyes, and his heart soared at the sight of open space in front of him, even with the Abyssal creatures still giving chase from behind. He smiled, disbelieving, as he glanced over the notifications to be certain.

Optional Quest Completed: Flight of the Sparrow

Rewards Earned

***

Alert: Pilot Level Increased

Stat Point(s) Available

He chuckled, half delirious. “Are we able to jump, Tanwen?”

“Destination?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Course plotted, Pilot. Jumping in 3…”

Malan finally allowed himself a relieved breath as he saw a vivid, star-white slice open in space in front of them, and he felt the familiar lurch of a system jump beginning.

“..2..1.”

A final glance behind him showed the Fiend bringing its tentacles around for one last, futile attack, before fading away into brilliant white light as they left the system. But Malan had already sunk to his knees, exhaustion finally winning over his will to survive, and he slumped across the metal floor, the kiss of cold steel on his cheek bringing more comfort than he’d ever have believed possible.

“System Jump complete, Pilot.”

Malan couldn’t help himself. He laughed.