HMS Valediction

Chapter 21.2

With John joining the melee, we stand a chance for survival. Confidence radiates through my limbs, joining the buzz of adrenaline. Before spinning around to concentrate on my own objective, I notice ARC10 trembling.

At first, it seems like my eyes are tricking me. But no, the whole ship is wavering in the air. 

I need to get higher. Frantically climbing, I hoist myself up a stone wall to stand on a roof.

It's true. ARC10 is breaking apart. Agonizing screeches pierce the air as the sides of my ship break from the main, jagged body.

I drop to my knees.

No. I didn't see enemy fire. What the hell is happening?

Hope floods from my body. 

How will we make it to NOHA? How will we survive this if our only escape is shattering mid-air?

The screeching metal death of ARC10 rings louder and louder. I look up, covering my ears, expecting to see it crumbling from the sky, raining metal sheets and our Earth artifacts onto this strange, inhospitable planet. I expect the heat of the explosion at any second.

But there's nothing. No explosion.

Five sides have broken off the ship and form. They attach to the girth of the ship at their middle. From those broken parts, another piece detaches. They bend like knees.

They begin to move, swiping at the ground in sync with one another. Their ends touch down.

Its abrupt scuttling is so familiar, I squint at it, consider it, try to connect it to all the biological entities I've ever known. Its malformed body rests among the five grotesque legs and for a second, I can't imagine any creature from Earth with a gait that haunting. Its staggered gait reminds me of an injured spider — one with legs made of two screws badly-welded together. 

I balk.

It moves like John.

I fall backward on my ass, gasping and choking on the harsh intake of air.

ARC10 is one giant Xani.

There was no Xani army in the ship with us. It was the ship itself communicating.

As ARC10 lurches toward the rocky forest, hope returns.

The people are going to be just fine. We all will be.

My confidence is at full volume again — I leap off the small building and sprint with long strides through the streets, the bulls detect me and change direction back to the abandoned marketplace.

I need to find a Meltronian. They're the ones behind this. My gut knows it.

Yaks in various states of decomposition litter the ground. Some are nothing more than skin and bones — as if their insides had been sucked dry. The tentacles of sand still work at others.

Leaping over their hollowed corpses, I head for the dias and climb it to survey the scene.

ARC10 still rumbles in the distance, lifting its legs to squash whatever's underneath. Glittering soldiers line the ground smashed up with black sand streaking their bodies. I can see the white crowds of my people running for the ship.

Once we're back onboard, I'm going to have a serious talk with them about their Xani cultural relations.

Once I've confirmed all is still clear over there, I return to my current situation.

Bulls charge at me dead ahead.

I leap from the platform and take off in the direction I remember our container rolled from. There might be answers there.