"The fight has already prolonged two minutes past when you should have been exhausted of spiritual energy, Pilot. Your body is taking a toll from producing such vast amounts, trying to supply me with power. We must retreat! The last escape shuttle is loading the evacuees now!"
As Andromeda complained in my ear, the mutant KnightMare painfully got up from the sand, clutching the deep laceration across its chest, the wound blackened with frostbite.
Twisting Andromeda to scan across the desert and the seething alien horde surrounding us, I spotted the escape shuttle just having landed in the distant sand dunes over the crowd of Dream Swarm bugs. Soldiers and military vehicles were scrambling to board. If we ran for it now, the KnightMare would just destroy the shuttle and kill everyone on board. If we didn't get to it, I'd be stranded on this planet. Andromeda could probably fly into space, but he was too damaged—we'd be sitting ducks for those needle-like projectiles.
"Kriiiii!!"
Slamming its one remaining arm into the sand, the KnightMare screeched in frustration, seeing Andromeda distracted. It lunged forward, claws aimed for Andromeda's fiery chest. Too drained to react in time, I could only watch as its talons punched through Andromeda's side, slicing through metal—piercing into the cockpit. The edge of its claws grazed my cheek.
Behind us now, the KnightMare shot past again, its claws slashing into Andromeda's leg. Like a ricocheting bullet, it zipped back and forth, cutting into Andromeda from every angle, a relentless onslaught that my battered machine struggled to counter.
[Critical damage sustained! Key systems barely functional. Armor at 15%.] Andromeda blared in alarm. [Pilot, we need to retreat to the evacuation shuttle.]
Having had enough of this relentless assault, I waited for the next attack. The moment the KnightMare leapt for another blitz, I initiated a surge—turquoise flames erupted across the battlefield. The mutant reacted instantly, trying to halt its momentum, realizing too late that it had fallen into my trap.
Andromeda's right hand shot out, impaling the flaming sword deep into the insectoid's chest. A final, desperate screech tore from the creature as the blade exploded with cerulean fire, burning and chilling its insides simultaneously. A wave of searing heat blasted outward, incinerating the hordes of alien bugs caught in the blast.
The KnightMare slumped forward, its beady black eyes going vacant as death took hold. Its head drooped, staring at the glowing blade buried in its chest as though trying to comprehend its own demise.
Sliding off the sword's edge, its charred and lacerated corpse collapsed onto the burning sand, lifeless. Screams of incinerated Dream Swarm bugs filled the air, their bodies bursting in sizzling pops as a rain of boiling purple blood showered down. Andromeda raised his arm, catching a puddle of the viscous liquid in his metal palm, watching it evaporate into the flames.
Panting in the cockpit, I let out a shaky breath, relief washing over me. "It's over..."
The blue and green flames flickering from Andromeda's open flaps faded as he stood, surrounded by the surviving Dream Swarm. The air still sizzled with the aftermath of my attack, but the battle wasn't over yet.
[Pilot, your vitals are dropping. Medical attention is urgently required.] Andromeda nagged.
My head felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish. "I'm fine... just... tired."
[This battle has forced you to far exceed your working parameters, Pilot. Immediate medical attention is required. Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot. Assuming emergency automatic control.]
Andromeda locked me out of manual control just as the surrounding horde screeched and surged forward. Without hesitation, he combined his twin emerald swords back into one, bracing for the next wave.
The first bug lunged—Andromeda met it with a clean slash, cutting it in two. More followed. He fought his way through, his blade carving through the chitinous wall of nightmares. Without my energy supply, his sub-zero and superheated attacks were no longer functioning, but the raw edge of the weapon was enough to cut a bloody path.
[Saint of Paradigm, this is CK-14; Andromeda. Requesting immediate air support. My pilot is experiencing severe spirit drain. Danger close.]
"Copy, Andromeda. Prepare for orbital napalm bombardment. We'll carve a path to the escape shuttle for you."
Captain Guvec's voice crackled through the comms as new alarms flared across the cockpit, displaying Andromeda's catastrophic level of damage.
The battlefield echoed with screeches and wet crunches as Andromeda pressed forward, wading through waves of alien flesh. He was covered in blood and viscera, his armour dented and torn, his every motion met with snapping mandibles and razor claws. One machine—one damaged steel giant—against an endless swarm of death. And he was losing.
"Napalm inbound, Andromeda."
Hearing the call, Andromeda hesitated for only a second, looking up—just as a massive tail stinger speared through his back, driving him into the sand. His head and chest slammed into the ground, buried beneath the shifting dunes.
Then, the sky ignited. Flames engulfed the battlefield as the first napalm payload hit. It was impossible to see what was happening—only the purple-soaked sand and the blinding inferno consuming everything.
Screeches of agony filled the air, the sounds of burning flesh popping in sickening bursts.
In all honesty, it was probably best I couldn't see what was happening. I had seen death by Andromeda's fire before. It was painful but quick. But hearing the swarm's tortured cries now, I knew—this was not quick. The Dream Swarm was dying in agony.
With the little strength left in my body, I forced out a question. "Andy... can you still move?"
[Y-y-yes...] Andromeda's voice crackled with distortion, struggling through damaged systems. [M-my-m-my gyroscopic b-bal-balance has been compromised. I-I-I wi-will need your ass-assistance to mo-move, Pilot-ot.]
With effort, I reached forward, pressing the controls. Andromeda obeyed, his movements sluggish and uneven. I kept him steady as he rose, my vision swimming. Around us, the battlefield was a hellscape—twisting tongues of fire licked across scorched earth, and what remained of the Dream Swarm scattered, fleeing the inferno. Those that lingered were reduced to charred husks, their bodies collapsing into the burning sand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the mutated KnightMare's corpse.
"Andy... collect the body."
[R-roge-er.]
Andromeda lurched forward, dragging his damaged form through the sand. His arm extended, grasping the charred remains of the KnightMare, and with a sluggish pull, he hauled the carcass along, leaving a deep trench in the scorched dunes. We moved for several hundred meters, the searing heat pressing against Andromeda's battered hull, until finally - we arrived at the escape shuttle.
"Over there!" A voice called out from the ship's ramp, its owner unloading rounds into the last remnants of the Swarm. "Knights! Assist the CK!"
At the order, three mech Knights sprinted toward us. Two took hold of Andromeda, hoisting his battered frame over their shoulders, while the third dragged the corpse of the mutated KnightMare onto the shuttle. As they carried us aboard, the shuttle's engines roared to life, sand and ash kicking up beneath us as the final soldiers scrambled inside.
Then, at last, the ship lifted off.
[Ejecting pilot... error.]
Inside the cockpit, my world shuddered as Andromeda's systems flickered and failed.
[C-cannot eject pilot. Power low. Power... compromised...]
"Pilot of Andromeda, can you hear me? Pilot!"
The cockpit lights cut out.
Darkness wrapped around me, thick and smothering. My mind swayed between wakefulness and exhaustion, a haze pulling me under. Someone shouted—orders, maybe—but the words melted into the void.
Then I drifted into a dream.
"There's something maddening about looking toward the future." A voice—familiar but also not—spoke in my psyche. "It's like sending a prayer to the sun. You can call out, say what you want it to be, but all you can do is wait and watch as your actions levy their consequences."
A figure emerged from the void—Traveler, his veiled face shifting with static.
"How is that maddening, stranger?" I asked, though the voice that left me wasn't my own. It was older—happier, even.
Traveler's grin was barely visible beneath the distortion. "It's neither a haze nor a vision, what happens next. But a wish's reality. A far cry from the fantasies of dreams and imagination."
He stepped closer. His fingers brushed against my forehead. "Fairies love to play with nature... so I wonder how your Andromeda will play with it, Kallen Lancelot."
I gasped awake from the dream. The sudden inhale felt like I'd just been shoved back into my own body. Air rushed through my nostrils, cold and sharp, and my eyes blinked open to a sterile white ceiling.
A heart monitor beeped steadily at my side. A plastic IV bag dripped clear liquid into my arm. I flexed my fingers, feeling the tug of the needle, the dull ache of overexerted muscles.
A shifting shadow caught my eye.
Someone sat slumped in a chair at the bedside. Dozing. Familiar.
"...406?"
At my quiet call, the boy startled awake.
"Firefly!"
He bolted upright, energy rushing back into his frame. "You're awake! Thank the Empress. Actually, I'm surprised you even remember me from the training facility."
"You were one of the few survivors from the two-hundreds like me." A faint grin tugged at my lips.
He nodded in understanding. "As short-worded as ever. By the way, my actual name is Harry Lawndone."
"Harry," I echoed, testing the name.
"No need to apologize for not knowing," he said, combing a hand through his hair with a sheepish chuckle. "We never really interacted much back at Fallen Moon Base."
His amusement faded as he seemed to remember something. "Right—there's two things Captain Guvec wanted me to tell you when you woke up. First, you've been asleep for forty-nine hours. Second, Andromeda's undergoing repairs, but he'll need a full maintenance facility before your next mission."
My stomach sank slightly. Given how badly damaged Andromeda had been, that was... expected.
"Now, uh, rest up. It'll be a few days until we reach the space station outpost," Harry added, shifting toward the door. "I need to inform the captain and Lieutenant-Colonel that you're awake. Sorry I can't stay longer."
"It's fine."
He hesitated, as if guilty, but nodded. Then, with a flustered expression I couldn't quite place, he turned and left.
I exhaled, running a hand over my face.
"...Is my smile that scary?"
The door slid open again sometime later. Captain Guvec stepped inside, followed by another man I didn't recognize. A nurse-bot checked my vitals, its mechanical hands holding my arm as it worked.
The newcomer was older, his uniform crisp, the badges on his chest indicating his rank—a tiara and a single shield on his left breast. That made him a lieutenant-colonel. A rank below Guvec, who served as a ground officer for the Space Navy.
"Hello, Pilot Firefly," Guvec greeted calmly from the foot of my bed. "This is Lieutenant-Colonel Drig—the man responsible for the fifty thousand lives you helped save. He has something to say to you."
Before I could respond, Drig bowed. Deeply at a near ninety degree angle. "Thank you," he said, voice filled with conviction. "Had it not been for you saving me from my own incompetence, all of my men would have died yesterday. You sacrificed your own wellbeing to protect their lives, and there is nothing I can do to ever possibly repay that. Should you ever need help, the 7th Regiment of Jovian Company will gladly come to your aid."
Flustered, I fumbled for words. "H-hang on, I was just doing my job—there's no need for this—"
"There is," Drig interrupted, staring at me fiercely. "You don't understand the weight of what you saved. Fathers and mothers. Daughters and sons. They can all return home because of you. Any normal Constellation Knight would have left to save their pride. But you stayed." He swallowed hard, blinking back emotion. "From the depths of my being, on behalf of them all... thank you. Truly. Thank you."
Leaning in beside me, Captain Guvec whispered, "Just accept the thanks. He's been restless since we got on the cruiser, waiting to see you in person. He even rushed you to the med bay himself."
I shifted my gaze to Drig, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way exhaustion clung to him like an ill-fitted cloak.
"Well, I, um..." I hesitated, still caught off guard. "Thank you for your commendation, Lieutenant-Colonel."
As I spoke, the nurse-bot released my arm, its mechanical limbs retracting with a soft click before it wheeled itself away.
"H-how's Andy?" I asked, my voice carrying a thread of concern. "My Knight?"
"In the engineering bay," Guvec replied, adjusting his collar with an air of practiced nonchalance. "The technicians are losing their minds trying to decode his repair protocols. They managed to re-power his core with fresh fusion cells, but they're stumped on the rest. Once you're in decent shape, you can go help them out."
I gave a small nod, then shifted to sit up, pushing the bedsheets aside.
Before I could move any further, Guvec's hand came down on my shoulder, firm but careful, pushing me back down with the same authority one might use on a reckless child.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before fixing me with a knowing look. "I said once you're healthy. Severe spirit drain doesn't just go away after a long nap. Your muscles are probably too weak to properly support you for at least another twelve hours. After that, I'll have someone escort you to the engineering bay."
I stared at him, unimpressed. "Can't I just be pushed there in a wheelchair?"
Guvec and Drig exchanged a glance, clearly not expecting the workaround. From the doorway, a muffled chuckle slipped through the moment.
"Still the same efficiency freak as back then," Harry muttered, barely holding back his amusement.