Antares drove the carrier downwards, preparing for the landing. Defending him, the heavier and less manoeuvrable fighters flew in front of him. He rounded on as sharp a bend as the engines of his ship let him. As the trailing white wisp of a torpedo flitted a dozen metres past him, symbols on the control panel lit up red. When the ship was getting back to the normal position, a dull rumble came from the hatch.


    “Chandri,” asked Antares, “what was that?”


    “Nothing. A case lost its adherence.”


    “Fine. Brace for landing.”


    Right before the prow, one of the fighters exploded. Its remains beat against the carrier, leaving deep scrapes and dents on the charred plating of the vehicle. Flagrantly white flare blinded Antares for several seconds, but Nadee nosedived left. Despite the shocks and turbulences, she rebalanced the ship flight a few hundred metres above the ground. Another noise in the hatch unfocused her. She turned her head and raised her eyebrows.


    “Open this bloody hatch!” yelled a young, female voice.


    Antares’s sight became clear again. He wiped his eyes and looked back. “No, just don’t tell me…” he began and smashed the button to open the hatch.


    Cerridwen crossed the doorway, barely keeping her balance on the swaying board. She leaned against the doorframe but before she could say a word, the ship cornered. She tumbled forward and stopped right in front of the edge of the control panel. Antares tugged on her hood and pushed her back.


    “Sit down! Do you wanna kill us?”


    Cerridwen grasped the armrest and fumbled for the belts with the other hand. She fastened them a second before another violent dodge. Remnants of a humble meal swam up to her throat as the ship did a clumsy barrel roll. Cerridwen tightened her lips, but yellow, dense fluid poured all over her belly and knees anyway. She coughed and spat the remains of the sour vomits.


    “What the hell are you doing here?” growled Antares without looking back. “How is it possible that…”


    “I told you, I have to find Felvennis!” she mumbled, mopping her mouth with her sleeve.


    “Do you know what you just walked into?” He scowled at her and pointed at the illuminator. “This is a fucking battlefield!”


    “I’ll be fine,” she muttered and shook the slimy saliva off her fingers.


    “You know nothing,” hissed Antares and bent over the control panel.


    “We’re gonna land,” interrupted Nadee.


    Cool until now, Antares gripped the armrest, stifling the fury and desire to execute the intruder right then.


    “Seven hundred metres,” said Nadee.


    “You’ll die there,” growled Antares, boring his sight into the control panel, “and I won’t feel any pity.”


    Cerridwen was preparing a riposte when the world around her spun, and smoke, dust and sulphuric smell poured into her lungs. The wreckage of a larger machine, falling around the carrier, impaled itself between the hatch and cockpit, tearing the ship in half. Cerridwen shouted and curled up, covering her head. Instead of wall and door, she saw a hole edged with flames out of the corner of her eyes, the outspread wires tossing sparks and the ginger dirt fragments blending with the grey shards.


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    Her muscles stiffened, and she flattened herself against the backrest. Thuds of explosions and the roar of the wailing engines joined the wind bluster. She heard orders being barked among this cacophony until a deafening bang and tremor knocked her unconscious.


    The smokey vehicle dug its prow into the ground and stopped a dozen metres away in a pall of sand. Cerridwen lifted her neck and despite the blood oozing out of her head, she looked around. The ripped wires jetted white gas under pressure, and the sandy-yellow mist wafted around her, veiling blazing explosions.


    Three breaths in the polluted atmosphere were enough for Cerridwen to feel a tickle in her throat and tears flooding her eyes. She rose, spitting and gasping. She stepped ahead, then leaned against the back of the seat. Her legs trembled and each time she coughed, she bent over and gripped her stomach.


    “I’m covering you,” said Quirinus and stood at the edge of the wrecked board. He grabbed the ruptured wall and leaned out, observing the area.


    “Not yet!” Antares shook his head. “Wait for my order.”


    Quirinus nodded and recoiled. He rested his leg on the seat, attempting to hold its quiver back. He reined his will to dash into the fight, but the Waves of Lethe coursing through his system enticed him to do it.


    Cerridwen battled with all her might for just a pocket of air, but as the black spots obliterated her view, she knew she was losing. Her nostrils and throat burned as if she’d drunk boiling water, and clear, runny saliva trickled from her mouth. She found the remains of strength within herself to raise her head and look at the shattered wreck and the hostile, barren earth. She bored her desperate stare at the nearest person.


    Antares breathed a short sigh of relief at the thought that he would get rid of the inconvenient intruder in a bit. No emotions disturbed him while he observed the Celestian girl suffocating in a polluted environment.


    Just another victim of war.


    He braced himself for a run. He tensed his muscles and focused his senses on the setting, but when the choking Cerridwen groaned in distress, he turned his head.


    The Debt!


    He would repay it, even towards his enemies. Cerridwen had saved his life once and supplied noteworthy information in addition. He allowed himself to defocus for a few seconds. He brought out spare goggles and respirator from his belt bag.


    “Wear it,” he said and threw the two items at her.


    Staggering on shaky legs, Cerridwen caught them. She carried out his order even though she was bent over all the time while the pain was spreading in her chest.


    As the roar of the machines approached, she turned around. Oncoming, at as high a speed as the stony ground let them, armoured vehicles bypassed a crashed ship, leaving behind a wall of dust.


    “Get down!” shouted Nadee, hunching.


    In the place where a late troop carrier was rolling in, a fire cloud in the shape of a mushroom blew off into the sky with a thunderous rumble.


    Cerridwen darted ahead and crawled under the seats like a frightened rat. A wave of panic swept down every single muscle of hers, petrifying her body. She heard nothing but her own, unnaturally rapid heartbeat, not even the reverberating bangs of explosion and shots. She lay in an embryonic position, covering her ears and tightening her eyelids.


    He was right. Antares was right by making me stay in my billet!


    She spent three long seconds there when unintelligible words and low thuds reached her ears. Somebody yanked at her leg, dragging her up from under the seats.


    “Follow me! Now!” roared a male, muffled voice.


    Cerridwen jumped to her feet and bolted away. She gasped the air filtered by the mask hungrily, which let her stay on her two legs, but she saw nothing through the goggles smeared with mud. Blurred, vividly orange points flashed somewhere among the vast plumes of smoke and ash. Cerridwen identified Nadee from the Zetherionian coat of arms sewed on her sleeve. She sped up so as to not lose sight of Nadee. She slipped on the edge of the sulphuric puddle, landing in the water on her knees, but she got up and driven by pure survival instinct, she rushed ahead.