The Crucible- The Complete Series

by Odette C. Bell

We weren’t alone. The cavalry was finally here.

  I wasn’t out of the woods, though. I had to get to Alyssa. That feeling – that knowledge that something was wrong – it still welled within me, still threatened to pierce through my stomach and slice my spine in two.

  I followed the chaos. And the more I punched into the central decks of the ship, the more chaos there was.

  It was worse than any battle scene, far worse than any war. Destruction was everywhere. Plating torn from the walls, dancing circuits exposed as they crackled back and forth in the open air. Pools of semi-molten metal spread out at my feet, my armored boots splashing through them with every step. Only a handful of the lights dotted along the ceiling worked anymore, and the ones that remained flickered in and out like the dying light of a candle.

  Sweat now covered my brow, seeping down, collecting around my eyes and along my top lip.

  This suit was now so badly damaged its environmental controls were acting up.

  “Come on,” I begged through gritted teeth.

  Occasionally I came across sections that were completely impassable. Once wide-open corridors had been compressed, crushed as if a massive hand had wrapped around them and crumpled them with the ease of someone screwing up a piece of paper.

  My breath was hard in my chest, coming out in pants, covering the view screen of my suit in thick condensation.

  The battle between the Ra’xon and the Miracle raged on. The corridor kept pitching, lurching from side-to-side, my armor staggering with every step. I could hear explosions far off into the ship, too, pick them up with my suit’s on-board systems, feel the vibrations as they travelled out and reverberated through the floor.

  I hoped like hell we were winning.

  I tried to find out where Alyssa was by using the mech’s sensors.

  They wouldn’t work. It seemed the decks below and above me were impenetrable. There was so much spatial disturbance it was like trying to scan the inside of a black hole.

  I became rigid with fear, a sick, strange kind of fear, one that sank deep into my gut and threatened to pull me through the floor.

  Something had to be wrong. Massively wrong.

  I knew Alyssa was powerful – I’d seen it with my own eyes – but this… it… I could barely describe this level of destruction.

  That cold dread sank deeper and deeper into my gut.

  Finally I began to hear something. At first I couldn’t resolve the sound between the explosions filtering through the Miracle and above the pitching, whirring cry of the red alert klaxon.

  Then I figured out what it was.

  Someone was crying. Sobbing. Their pitching, gasping breaths filtering down the corridor.

  There was only one person it could be.

  I ran, ran as fast as my broken suit could allow. Pressure warnings erupted over what remained of my view screen, telling me I was losing integrity.

  Just as the sobbing became louder, just as I rounded a corner and saw an open room at the far end, my armor gave up completely. It let out a single beep, then stopped.

  It collapsed in on itself, one knee driving into the floor as a hand flattened beside it to stabilize the suit.

  “No,” I screamed. “No.” I balled up two fists and struck them into the controls, begging the machine to move.

  It didn’t.

  Fortunately it didn’t lock me inside. The hatch in front of the suit opened in a rush of gas, a loud pneumonic hiss splitting the air.

  I tumbled out, wrapping a hand around the mech so I didn’t fall flat on my face.

  Fortunately I could still breathe the air. Clearly the Miracle hadn’t gotten around to venting the atmosphere in this section.

  But it was acrid. It smelt like Hell itself. I immediately brought up a hand and pressed it against my mouth, coughing into the palm, digging my fingers as hard into my cheeks as I could as I tried to filter each breath through my fingers.

  At the end of the corridor inside that open room I saw a light. It was a distinct gold-yellow.

  The sobbing was louder now, more erratic, too. It was like a whirring engine about to die.

  I thrust forward, boots slipping against the shattered floor. With one arm pumping at my side and my other hand permanently collapsed over my face, I threw myself through the door.

  And that’s when I saw her.

  Alyssa Nightingale.

  I had no idea what the room had once been, but now it was a mess. It was completely and utterly destroyed. Banks of what could have been consoles were now warped shards of metal with clumps of live wires crackling within. Only one light worked, and it flickered on and off right above Alyssa’s head, lighting her up like a stage light.

  Not that she needed it. Her whole body was aglow. It was like she’d swallowed a star. Her skin burnt with such intensity I was sure it was going to scorch free from her bones.

  With one hand locked on the floor and another pressed against the wall beside her, she cried. Her hair was somehow longer, but rather than fan in front of her face, it played all around her cheeks, drifting up and down like feathers caught in an up draft.

  “Alyssa.” I threw myself into the room. But I couldn’t get far.

  The power rippling off her body burnt. It was like facing a real fire.

  I ground to a stop, grating my teeth together, balling a hand into a fist.

  She looked up, and that’s when I realized she didn’t look like herself any more. At least not like Ensign Jenks.

  Somehow her appearance had reverted to the footage I’d seen – the real Alyssa Nightingale.

  “Alyssa, Alyssa,” I said shifting closer to her. Down on one knee, hand pressing hard into the floor, I tilted my head to the side, my eyes as wide as they would go. “Alyssa,” I said, voice reverberating with a pleading note.

  She still knelt there before me, half of her body rigid, the other half loose. Her head was tilted to one side, her now long hair tipped messily over her shoulders. Here and there puffs of energy from her telekinetic implants pulsed up over her arms, catching the fine strands of her fringe and sending them playing against her forehead and cheeks.

  The light was starting to dim from her body, like a fire that was being extinguished.

  I shifted forward again. Slowly. I didn’t want to get too close. I couldn’t afford to. The nearer I got, the more the power cascading off her form singed my flesh. If I dared touch her – if I was stupid enough to follow through with the desire to reach a hand out and brush it against her face – I’d probably lose the arm. Instead I knelt there, now locking both hands onto the floor as I tilted closer and closer, as near as I dared.

  “Alyssa, it’s me: Nathan,” my voice shook.

  She jerked her head this way and that, as if she couldn’t track my voice.

  “It’s Nathan,” I said, “Nathan Shepherd.”

  She shifted back now, shivering.

  I watched the convulsions cross from her shoulders down to her feet. Instantly they reminded me of that moment in the Ra’xon’s corridors when she dropped at my feet. I remembered in excruciating detail cradling her body as she had a violent fit.

  Without realizing what I was doing, I reached a hand towards her, ignoring the pain that seared across my flesh.

  Instinctively she jolted back and fell down to her side, hair now collapsing over her face like a fan.

  Less and less energy was playing across her body, that distinct golden light dying out until it was little more than a faint glow.

  “Alyssa it’s me. You’re… you’re alright. Everything is going to be alright,” I lied.

  She shook her head.

  “Alyssa.” I shuffled further forward on my knees, the fabric of my pants snagging against the now uneven floor.

  “No, stay away,” she managed. “I… I can’t control myself.”

  It was the first time I’d heard her speak. Her voice sounded far off, the words broken, punctuated here and there by violent breaths, her chest punching against the now tor
n and singed fabric of her medical tunic.

  “Alyssa.” I drove my teeth hard into my lip, speaking around them as I tried to stifle the pain. Even though I was still a good two meters away from her and her light was starting to be extinguished, she was still producing enough energy that it felt as if my skin would blister and burn off. “Alyssa, just calm down. Focus on my voice,” I suddenly suggested. “Focus on my voice.”

  “I… Nathan… I just—”

  “Focus on my voice.”

  She drew still, slowly tilting her head up, opening her eyes wide as she stared at me.

  The seconds ticked into a minute until finally the last hint of gold light was gone from her eyes. Then for a single second she stared at me before she fell forward, body growing limp as she struck the floor, hair fanning out over her back and face.

  For a few heart pounding seconds, I did nothing. Then I tentatively stretched a hand forward, fingers trembling as I waited for the flesh to burn. When it didn’t, I took another hesitant shuffle forward and another until finally I realized the threat was gone.

  I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her body, pulling her up, her hair tumbling and catching across the fabric of my top.

  I thumbed her fringe from her face and checked on her. As I pressed the back of my hand against her soft lips, I realized she was breathing. In the exact same moment I realized I wasn’t. I let out a trapped breath, and it hissed and wheezed through my throat, echoing through this empty abandoned room.

  I did nothing but hold her, cradling her against my chest. Again it reminded me of my experience on the Ra’xon when I first discovered who she was. I remembered feeling so crushed in that moment, so confused, so torn. But I didn’t have the luxury of sitting here and reliving that memory.

  Though I knew the ship was still being attacked, I stole just a few more seconds sitting there with her in my arms.

  Then I acted.

  …

  Annabelle Williams

  The battle was fraught.

  But at least we had a chance. Somehow, some goddamn how, the Miracle’s external communications system had been shut off just as we’d attacked.

  Maybe it was luck, maybe it was divine intervention, or maybe it was just Nathan Shepherd.

  As my fingers flew across my console, I managed a smile.

  Maybe we would live through today after all.

  “Increase power to forward shields,” the Captain snapped as she stood in the center of the room, her towering figure casting a long shadow.

  Everyone worked as one. Though this ship was still understaffed, it didn’t matter. Our motivation made up for the lack of extra hands.

  “How’s the engine holding up?” the Captain radioed the Chief.

  “All good down here. I can give you maximum output for another half an hour.”

  “We won’t need half an hour,” the Captain said simply.

  She was right.

  As the Ra’xon banked to the left and slammed the Miracle with another volley of ion pulses, it was becoming clearer and clearer who would win.

  Despite the fact the Miracle had never-before-seen shield technology, we had the advantage. We were larger, and we had the element of surprise.

  Plus, it appeared as if chaos itself had broken lose on the Miracle.

  Or maybe it was just Alyssa Nightingale.

  I smiled again. It was brief and sharp, but it was there.

  “Williams, update,” the Captain snapped.

  “Ships around Moon Alpha 98 have not changed position.”

  We were going to win.

  Oh god, we were actually going to win.

  The Captain presided over the battle, snapping orders.

  It felt good.

  This felt good. Not just attacking the Miracle, but doing something. Striking back against the Star Forces.

  We continued to work as one.

  At one point the Miracle used some kind of directed pulse beam on the Ra’xon, but our pilot managed to maneuver out of position just in time, and the slice of light sailed right past us into the dark vastness of space.

  “Bank around for the final volley. Ready phase torpedoes.”

  A pounding, exhilarating feeling spread through my chest.

  I looked up sharply.

  “Fire,” the Captain said, teeth pressing hard into her lips, the word harsh and loud as it rocketed from her throat.

  I watched as a spark of light erupted from the Ra’xon, slicing across space and erupting through the Miracle’s now debilitated shields.

  It slammed into their primary weapons array.

  An explosion erupted, billowing out into space in a puff of flame and shrapnel.

  The bridge waited as one.

  “A full hit. The Miracle’s weapons are disabled,” the tactical Chief said.

  Then we cheered.

  “It’s not over yet,” the Captain warned immediately. “Send a warning to the Miracle. Tell them to surrender.”

  The tension ratcheted up once more as we all turned and flung ourselves into our designated tasks.

  I kept snapping my head between my panel and the main view screen.

  Seconds felt like years as we waited for the Miracle to make the next move.

  “The Miracle’s external communications system has been disabled, but we’ve sent the message.” The communications officer turned sharply and nodded at the Captain. “I’ve told her to cease all non-essential processes, shutdown engines, and prepare to be boarded.”

  The Captain nodded.

  I… we’d done it.

  We’d done it.

  The resistance had won its first true battle.

  Chapter 2

  Annabelle Williams

  The feeling on the bridge was electric. In all my years of service both to the Star Forces and the resistance I’d never felt anything like it.

  I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin from my face, and had no intention of trying.

  Professor Axis was never going to do it again. Not to anyone else.

  “I can confirm the Miracle has shut down engines,” the communications officer said with a laugh ringing through his voice.

  The Captain nodded low. When she looked up, there was the barest hint of a smile crumpling her lips. “Inform them we’re going to take over their ship-wide audio. How long will it take to hack into their systems? I want to send a message to everyone on that ship.”

  “Now we’ve destroyed their shields… give me a minute,” the communications officer said haltingly as he threw himself into his task, gaze locked on the panel before him.

  We waited.

  “You’re on,” he said as he pointed to the Captain.

  “This is the Captain of the resistance ship the Ra’xon.” She stood in the center of the bridge, stance strong, head held high, that determined gaze flickering in her eyes. “We have defeated your vessel. You will be boarded. You will cooperate,” she stated flatly. She didn’t offer anything, didn’t tell them that if they cooperated no harm would come to them. No. She gave them a directive. Some people were born to lead, after all, and Captain H’agovan was one of them.

  She nodded at the communications officer, and the comm feed ended. “Prepare a boarding party. It’s time to see just how many secrets that ship can offer up.”

  She turned sharply on her foot and walked from the bridge.

  All eyes were on her, but all minds had skipped ahead to the Miracle. What would we find aboard?

  I turned back in my seat to face the view screen.

  My eyes widened.

  This was it.

  …

  Lieutenant Commander Nathan Shepherd

  Captain H’agovan’s message came out of nowhere. I wasn’t expecting it. Though the attack on the Miracle had clearly stopped, as the floor wasn’t lurching anymore, her message slammed me in the back of the head.

  And it made me smile. The move exploded over my lips, kinking hard into my chin and cheeks.

  “Did y
ou hear that, Alyssa?” I still cradled her close. “We won. We won,” my voice shook and I made no move to hide it.

  She was still locked in my arms. She was weak. I had no idea what had happened to her, but whatever it was, it was starting to wane.

  She lifted her head to face me, her eyes taking a long time to focus. “… We won?”

  I nodded, one arm still wrapped around her back, another grin exploding across my face. “We won. We defeated the Miracle. It’s over,” I said clearly and directly as I looked right into her eyes.

  She held my gaze. A few seconds tumbled by, and I found myself swallowing.

  She slumped down again, head falling onto my chest.

  I brought up a hand and rested it gently over her back, fingers tangling in her hair.

  I’d gotten used to the way she looked before. But I knew, instinctively, it wouldn’t take any time to adjust to her new appearance. I didn’t want to say she was prettier, even though with her longer hair and brighter eyes most would have concluded that. To be honest, it didn’t matter how she looked anymore. Sometimes appearance gets washed away by experience, until how a person looks is irrelevant. It’s what they do. It’s what they do to you.

  I brought a hand up and rested it against the back of her head.

  She was breathing softly, chest pushing out against mine.

  Maybe I was kidding myself, but it felt as if she was getting stronger.

  “… Should we… do something? Is it safe here?”

  “It’s fine. The Captain won’t mess around. She’ll board this ship immediately. We can… we can just stay here.” I let my hand travel softly down the back of her head as I brushed some of the tangles from her hair and the dust and shards of metal that had settled there.

  “… Thank you,” she suddenly managed.

  With her head rested against my chest it felt as if she spoke right into my heart. I felt her words vibrate through my chest.

  It took me a moment to answer. Then a smile spread slowly across my lips. “You’re welcome. But we should be thanking you. If you hadn’t… attacked this ship, the Ra’xon probably wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Miracle.”

  “I… I didn’t know what I was doing,” she admitted. Though there was a far-off note to her voice, it was also filled with fragility. It shook so badly I was terrified she would lose consciousness.