Fresh cigarette smoke dragged across Quandroiz’s sunset, mixing with the mist of clouds until another puff was exhaled to join its brethren in the sky. Davon took up smoking just two years after he was appointed Messenger of the Division by Emperor Magnus Ohavim. It had become his vice of choice, calming him in this uncertain time. But aren’t all times uncertain?
Davon pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, smiling at the sight of Gerry and Nadeden returning to the dreadnought. They held hands but split apart as they neared the entrance where Davon awaited them. “Didn’t want to join me, huh?” Gerry asked. Davon chuckled, “Hey, sometimes I just want to smoke by myself. Besides, you still had good company, didn’t you?” Gerry glanced back at Nadeden for a brief second. Davon thought he spotted Gerry blushing as he entered the ship. Davon placed the cigarette back in his mouth, stopping Nadeden before she could follow Gerry. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“What?” Nadeden questioned Davon, who slipped a hand on her shoulder. “Gerry’s a good guy, maybe too good. People like him, but people don’t like you.” She scoffed, “That’s harsh.” Davon wagged a finger at Nadeden, scolding her. “It’s the truth. Look, I don't want to be your enemy. No one does, but that’s only because people fear you, and that’s only because they don’t understand you. Gerry wants to, though, and we both know that part of the reason he does is because of what’s between his legs. And I can tell by the way you look at him that your thoughts aren’t exactly pure either.” Nadeden pushed past him. “Yeah, I’ve had enough of this.”
Davon shot back, exclaiming, “I’m trying to say that if you can make this thing work with Gerry, you can make everyone on this ship at least not be terrified to be in the same room as you! Maybe get the whole Division to trust you!” Nadeden marched back toward him. “So you’re using your friend to seduce me because you think I’ll, what? Turn traitor and murder you all? What’s wrong with you?”
Davon ripped the cigarette from his mouth, aiming it at Nadeden. “You’re reading into it too much! That’s not what I mean at all!”
“Then what did you mean?” Nadeden huffed, leaning toward Davon as if preparing to attack him. “I meant Gerry’s a good man and he’ll be good for you,” Davon leaned over, squinting his eyes through a haze of smoke. “So don’t mess things up with him.” Nadeden stepped back to the entrance. Davon reined himself in as well. “You make it sound like you’d rather be with him.” Nadeden joked. Davon took one last puff of his cigarette. “And if I do?” Her eyes widened. “Don’t mess it up,” Davon stated, tossing the cigarette to the sand before stepping onto the dreadnought.
Davon later watched from the dreadnought’s viewing deck as Quandroiz was decimated by the Planet-ripper he had placed just hours prior to their departure. He held his gaze on the planet as it was reduced to nothing more than rocks floating in the void. He then watched as Nadeden spoke to Gerry, who was writing a final report of the operation on the deck below him.
Davon lit another cigarette.
“What do you think, sir?” A division guardsman questions Davon, who stands in the center of what he can only assume was once a Republic dropship, yet is now a rusted pile of wreckage that appears to have been smashed open.
Walking through the wreck, Davon’s spacesuit rubs against his old wrinkled skin, scarring it further. He’s old, and so is this place.
“This matches the description that Fiskejef’s gang gave of the ship. She knew the asteroid field would be here. It doesn’t make sense for her to just crash into it.”
In his confusion, the guardsman asks a rather obvious question: “So she’s still alive?”
Davon grabs a piece of splintered wood lodged between the ship’s broken frame. “Yes.” He cracks the fractured bow in his hand and snaps his fingers. The action summons a portal to lead his hunting party further into the asteroid field. “She is.”
“There! What’s that!” Smith points out through Granix’s eyes to a clearing in the field. Nadeden spots it as well. “It’s definitely too big to be an asteroid.” Granix floats through zero gravity over to a mountainous chunk of rock, using it as a piece of cover to spy a drifting green mass in the distance. “That is most certainly them. It is the same vehicle they have used before.” Granix’s voice bellows inside of their body, confirming Smith and Nadeden’s suspicions. “Get us closer.” Nadeden orders with a certain determination in her voice, which wasn’t noticeable to Smith before.
After what we saw not too long ago, I’m sure now. She isn’t heartless at all. Smith thinks to himself while Granix climbs over the chunk of rock, floating back into zero gravity.
“Never expected you to cry over a few carcasses, or are you just getting sensitive in your old age?” The young man haunts Nadeden's mind once more. She snatches her newly forged bow. “Well, either way, you seem eager to do it.” The ghastly image of his face passes through her. “Head into another massacre, I mean.” Even with the guilt she carries, Nadeden’s resolve burns brighter than ever. She’ll murder all those pirates and laugh throughout the slaughter. However, it will all mean nothing to her. For deep down, she knows none of them wear the Emperor’s face and name. Yet they will get her ever closer to that inevitable goal. Gelmidas Atheneum will pay along with the rest of the Division and the Republic. Their bodies will all drift through space just like the lifeforms of Quandroiz. If only Smith knew her thoughts. “What would he do?” The ghost taunts again, “He already knows you're a monster, but does he know the true extent of it all? No, it's just another thing you’re keeping from him, isn’t it? Face it, Nadeden, if that boy knew your true nature, he would run in fear just like everyone else.” Nadeden strikes out, unable to contain herself. “Would you shut up!”
Smith turns to her in startled confusion.
A green tentacle swings itself at Granix’s eye. Just as Smith and Nadeden turn to it, Granix catches it in their hands. “It appears the pirates have noticed us!” Granix’s voice booms.
“Just hold them off and find a way to get us on board that ship! Smith, stay with me!” Nadeden orders. Smith clings to the wall. Another tentacle slams into Granix while they still struggle with the one already shot at them. The tentacle wraps itself around Granix’s ankle, freezing it in place with a dripping sludge, gluing the stones together. The same is then done to their hands. Granix angles their back, moving their mouth to the closest asteroid. They snag it with their rock tongue and swallow. Nadeden and Smith hold onto the innards of Granix’s eye as their entire body expands with the new stone, freeing them from the tentacles as they grow in size. “An impressive attempt, but as long as these stones surround me, I’m invinci—”
Granix’s boast is suddenly silenced by another tentacle erupting from the pirate ship, slamming their mountainous head into the amorphous slime. Granix’s face appears to Smith and Nadeden. “My head’s on the ship, shall I open my eye?” Smith gulps, sweat pours down his back. Nadeden nocks an arrow. “Yes, please,” she answers. Granix’s eye rips into the pirate ship. Nadeden drops down with a malicious grin while Smith cries in terror.
Landing face-first onto the solid floor of the ship, Smith is dragged upwards by Nadeden, who has already shot an arrow into the nearest pirate. “Where’s the Machinist?” Smith inquires.
The pirate removes his gaze from his wound to look at him as Nadeden moves in for the kill. “NO!” Smith screams, tackling Nadeden. Her bow falls out of her hands, slipping across the floor over to the pirate. Before Nadeden can even question, scold, or simply punch Smith, he’s already apologizing to her. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” The pirate rises behind the pair, with Nadeden’s bow in his hands. Nadeden clutches Smith, rolling over to take the hit. The wood shatters against her back. She jumps up after the attack. “Great, that’s two broken now,” she scoffs, winding up a punch. Smith leaps between the pair before any more strikes can be traded. “What is this kid’s problem?” The pirate asks Nadeden, who lowers her arms. “Be patient with him, he's religious,” she jokes, snatching an arrow to stab at him. Smith grabs it.
“Life is precious, life is all, I shall not raise my hand—” As Smith begins his litany, the wall of the ship shifts, revealing the rest of the pirate crew.
“The Machine kept saying the same thing.” A large, broad-shouldered Martian steps through the crowd of scoundrels of various species.
“Is this supposed to be a rescue mission?” The Martian chuckles, holding out his cane. Nadeden keeps her guard up. “You the captain?” The Martian lowers his cane, blinking his dark eyes, he boasts, “Indeed, I am. You are now aboard the gelatin vessel, Phobus, which is the vessel of my orphans of the universe. I am Ymirdrun. Who are you?”
Before Nadeden can stop him, Smith is already beginning introductions. “That’s Nadeden, I’m Smith. She was helping me return to my home planet, the Forge, when the giant you attacked informed us that one of my people was, well… Taken, I suppose, by your group.”
A cold look crosses Ymirdrun’s face. “The robot is one of your people?” Relief and joy fill Smith. “Yes!” he states as Nadeden tenses. “But you are organic. You are aware that consciousness transfer is illegal, no?”
Smith points to Nadeden. “She did it to save my life. The Rusting would have killed me.”
The orphans ready their weapons. “Natural selection should have taken its course. The Rusting is liberation, boy.”
Smith steps back. Nadeden steps in front of him. Ymirdrun holds out his cane. “Organics will inherit the universe. Everyone here will now have to watch you die because you defied the gods!” Nadeden snatches the pirate she was fighting beforehand, ripping the arrow from his leg and placing it on his throat. “Let him go, we’ll let you leave, woman, just hand us the boy!” Ymirdrun demands. Nadeden turns to Smith, who looks on in horror. “Decisions, decisions. My lovely Nadeden.” The ghost calls out to her, placing its imagined hand on Smith. She laughs. “You think I care what happens to him?” She slices the captured pirate's throat. “I’m only here for your ship.” She scowls, leaping into battle.
So this is my life now? Smith wonders in horror. Being stuck in a body that isn’t my own, attacked because of it, and trying to keep my captor on a leash, only for it to be in vain? Only for her to spill more blood? She doesn’t care about me. His hands, which are not their own, tremble as they watch the carnage unfold. So why is she still fighting for me?
Ymirdrun’s body hits the floor. Nadeden proudly stands over it, stabbing another arrow into a woman holding a spear. “I haven’t gotten to stretch my legs in a while.” She tosses the woman’s body to the ground. “How long do you think it will take for me to kill you all? Personally,” The rest of the crew lunges at her. “I’m aiming for under an hour.”
The orphans pile on top of her, relentlessly stabbing the floor, unaware that Nadeden has disappeared. Smith’s gaze holds on where Nadeden once stood. Sparks of blue flicker in her absence. “A portal? A Mystic portal?” Smith questions as the pirates turn to him, his body fills with the all too familiar emotion of fear.
With a snap of his fingers, Davon has brought Nadeden before him.
“And all I had to do was find what ship you were on. See how much my skills have improved since we last met, Nadeden?”
Rage boils within her at the sight of Davon. She wants to shout at him, no, she wants to kill him, but drifting through empty space, she can’t do anything. Davon and his team step toward her in their spacesuits. One prepares a capture unit. “No,” Davon orders his underling, who questions him. “Our orders were to bring her in.”
“I know,” Davon sighs, “but now I’m giving you the order to help me kill her.” His men hesitate at the words. One of them leaps forward. Nadeden struggles but quickly bats him aside and sends him hurtling into the dark of space. The rest of the team follows suit, diving into the dark as Nadeden holds her breath. She digs her fingers into their spacesuits and rips the plastic open. One of the men suffocates in an instant. The others hold out, but not for long. Nadeden knows that her time is as limited as theirs was. She has to act quickly or risk death. She shoves the swarm of men off of her, throwing them into the depths of space.
Davon has decided that he’s had enough. Nadeden has killed Division men. His men. Now is the time for action. He’s waited years for this. For this chance to finally put the Scorched Archer in her place. As she meets his rage-filled eyes, Nadeden is filled with something she hasn’t felt in a very long time.
Dread.
Davon reaches for his daggers. “As I cut you open, Scorched Archer, I want you to know that every single cut, every slice, and every stab is all personal.”
Helplessly flailing in the dark, Nadeden uses her last gasp of air to mouth one word. A word that perfectly embodies everything she’s feeling right now.
“Fuck.”