Chapter 113

STARTING A FIRE

Annie shifted against Alexander’s back for the third time in as many minutes.

“This is really uncomfortable,” she said. “Like, seriously. Your armor has pointy bits.”

Alexander sighed, adjusting his grip on her legs where they wrapped around his waist. The drones that had survived the fight maintained formation around them, but there weren’t enough left to carry her weight.

“I can put you down if you’d prefer. You’re welcome to walk.”

“Pass.” Annie tightened her grip. “But I’m just saying. You could have made the armor more passenger-friendly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time I’m carrying you back from a fight to the death.”

Below them, the city streets stretched empty and silent. No movement. No cultists taking shots at them. Just abandoned buildings and debris scattered across packed dirt roads.

“It’s quiet,” Annie said after a moment, her voice losing its humor.

“Yes.” Alexander scanned the streets as they flew. Nothing. Everyone was either dead, unconscious, or had fled. The cultists had consumed most of the city’s population, one way or another.

The timer in his vision dropped to twelve minutes.

They cleared the last row of buildings. The park spread ahead, trees forming a green barrier around where the Sleipnir still hovered. Alexander pulled up slightly, giving them a better view as they approached.

Then the tree line broke, and the bodies came into view.

Hundreds of them. Scattered across the grass in loose clusters, some face-down, others on their backs. Not moving.

Annie gasped.

Alexander’s eyes tracked across the field quickly, analytically. His Hyperawareness picked out details. Talia moving between the bodies, checking each one methodically. Felix in cat form, padding alongside her, occasionally stopping to press a paw against someone. White light flared briefly as he healed.

Movement caught his attention. A figure in black robes stirring, trying to push themselves up. Talia’s head turned. She crossed the distance in three quick strides and drove her sword downward through the cultist’s back. The body went still.

She glanced up at them. Even from this distance, Alexander could see the relief that crossed her face.

He descended, carrying Annie lower until his boots touched grass just outside where the barrier had been. The drones settled around them, holding their positions.

The others converged. Augustus approached from the defensive lines. Spencer emerged from behind a barrier plate, looking tired but intact. Carmen and Ryan came down the ramp, both scanning the field. Talia walked over from the bodies, sword still in hand, Felix trotting at her heels.

Alexander set Annie down. She stumbled slightly, still exhausted from the fight.

“Mean,” she muttered, but without real heat.

“How did it go?” Augustus asked.

Alexander’s gaze drifted past him to the base of the ramp. Two bodies lay there, carefully arranged under spare ship blankets. He recognized the boots. Bradley, one of the technicians. And James Carter, the navigator.

Around them, crew members and aliens moved carefully, checking people, preparing them for transport back aboard.

“We survived,” Alexander said. “We’ll trade stories later.”

His attention moved back to the field of unconscious civilians stretching back into the trees.

“How many are there?” Alexander asked, still looking at the field.

“Over three hundred,” Talia answered. “They run all the way back into the trees.”

The group fell quiet.

Alexander turned to Augustus. “How stocked is the ship’s armory?”

Augustus’s expression shifted, reading something in the question. “Enough for about two hundred. Standard complement for a ship this size, though I doubt Santiago ever had that many ground pounders aboard.”

Alexander nodded, then looked at Carmen. “What about rations?”

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She studied his face for a moment, understanding dawning. “We’ll reach The Nexus in a few days. We could spare most of them.”

“What are you thinking?” Augustus asked.

Around them, the crew had stopped working. Even those still moving among the unconscious had slowed, watching.

Alexander turned back to them. “I’m thinking about starting a fire.”

Annie gave him an exasperated look.

“I want to leave all the weapons and ammo we can,” Alexander explained. “Food. Instructions. They’re going to wake up free, but without help, they’ll just become slaves to the cultists again.”

Silence. Then Carmen nodded slowly.

“They won’t know how to use any of it,” Talia said.

Alexander reached out with Technopathy. One of the drones that had survived the fight broke formation and floated down to his palm. He began feeding it power through Electrokinesis, the charge flowing smoothly as his reserves slowly rebuilt.

“Which is why I’ll leave a drone here to teach them,” Alexander said. “Droney can dump instructional videos from his storage. I downloaded guides for just about everything. Once the drone translates their language, they’ll figure it out from there.”

“That could change things here,” Augustus said quietly. “Long-term.”

“Starting a revolution in their world might keep them from coming after ours,” Talia agreed. “We’ll also need to leave them generators. Fabricators for ammunition and parts. Maybe the combat armor too.” She glanced at the unconscious civilians. “Most of the cultists went down easily enough, but they’ll need every edge they can get.”

“That’s the idea.” Alexander looked back at the field of unconscious people. “And they deserve a chance.”

Nobody disagreed.

The timer read nine minutes.

They worked fast. Alexander floated crates down from the cargo bay with Metallokinesis while the others packed everything they could spare. Eight minutes later, the park was filled with organized rows of supplies near where the civilians lay. Weapons, ammunition, rations, medical supplies, generators, fabricators, combat armor.

Now they stood at the top of the ramp, looking out across the field.

People had started coming to consciousness. Dozens of them getting to their feet, looking dazed and confused. They swayed, touched their faces, stared at their hands as if checking they were real. But they moved like normal people now. Not the mechanical, empty-eyed puppets from before.

Alexander watched as they started noticing the ship. Pointing. Some stumbled backward, fear plain on their faces. Others just stared up in awe, mouths open.

“We’re almost out of time,” Carmen said. “Need to secure the ship.”

She slapped a control panel on the wall. The ramp began to close with a mechanical whine, rising slowly.

More people below were pointing now. Shouting things Alexander couldn’t hear over the distance.

Annie stood next to him, watching the scene unfold as the ramp closed the gap between them and the ground.

“That was a good thing to do,” she said quietly. “Maybe they can change things.”

The ramp sealed shut. The cargo bay doors closed, cutting off most of their view of the park and the people waking up to find themselves free.

The ship shuddered beneath their feet. Through his connection to the Sleipnir, Alexander felt the vessel begin to move. Lifting. Accelerating. But just as when they arrived, it wasn’t because of any commands.

“Everyone to the bridge,” Carmen said.

They filed through the corridors quickly, the ship climbing steadily beneath them. Gravity remained stable despite the impossible movement. When they reached the bridge, half the crew was already at their stations. The others moved to join them as Grimnir entered.

Ryan stood from the captain’s chair as Carmen appeared in the doorway. “Captain on the bridge.”

“Positions, everyone,” Carmen said, crossing to her seat. She settled into it with the ease of someone who belonged there.

The crew worked with practiced motions. Petra at communications and sensors. Davis at weapons. The chief engineer’s voice crackled over the comms from below, confirming status. Haley Sky, the second pilot, sat at the helm where Yuki should have been.

The navigator’s station was noticeably empty.

Grimnir kept to the back of the bridge, staying out of the way. Alexander watched the viewscreen. The planet fell away beneath them, shrinking as they climbed. The curvature of the world became visible. They broke atmosphere, then orbit.

A strange sensation washed over Alexander’s senses. The same distant, muted sensation as the System did whatever it did that sent them here.

Reality snapped back.

“Control restored,” Haley announced from the helm. “Helm responding normally.”

“Confirmed,” Petra added from sensors. “We’re back at our original coordinates. No drift.”

Several crew members exhaled, tension visibly leaving their shoulders. Around the bridge, postures relaxed slightly.

Ryan checked his displays. “All systems green across the board.” He hesitated, glanced at Alexander, then added, “Except for the missing ablative armor.”

Alexander turned to Carmen. “Sorry about that. In the rush, I forgot to retrieve it.”

Carmen gave him a small smile. “Understandable, given the circumstances.” She turned back to her crew. “Set us back on our previous course. Standard burn to jump point.”

“Aye, Captain,” Haley responded. Her fingers moved across the helm controls. “ETA to jump point, six hours.”

Davis rotated his chair slightly. “Good to be flying on our own power again.”

A few murmurs of agreement from the other stations.

The crew settled into their work, the bridge finding its rhythm. The kind that came from professionals who knew their jobs.

Carmen stood and walked over to where Alexander and the others waited. She kept her voice quiet, meant only for them.

“We’ll need to make arrangements for the two we lost,” she said. “James would have wanted a proper space burial. But Bradley has family back home. They’ll want him returned.”

“Go ahead and make the arrangements for both. Whatever they need,” Alexander said.

At the nearby communications station, Petra’s hands stilled on her console for a heartbeat. Then she continued working, her jaw tight.

“We’ll organize it for when everyone can attend,” Carmen said. She paused. “They deserve that much.”

“Agreed,” Alexander said.

Carmen returned to her captain’s chair. The rest of the team filed off the bridge, leaving the crew to their work.