Haledon neared the overgrown edge of the Astralaceaes, where the thick roots met the grey flesh of the Megacolides. Examining the point where the ship had bitten down over the pod, Haledon noticed that the skin had created a hard seal with the bramble hull. He poked at it but found the hardened leather surface resistant to his pushing.
Looking up from the mounds of roots and vines that crawled from the Astralaceaes, he recalled Sparrow's defiance of Mesa when the Mecharrion attacked. When he had been far away in the Gravodonata before, the brambles had looked small, but up close, they stretched sixty feet up the face of the worm.
"Here, use the roots for stability," Witch-Hazel instructed as their hand reached out and gripped the first root.
Haledon observed Witch-Hazel as they began to climb along the surface of the Megacolides. The arbornaut made it seem effortless and was halfway up the wall when a strange sensation overwhelmed Haledon's body. Instead of following along the roots, he felt the urge to jump and did so as an anxious Mek-Tek gripped Haledon's helmet.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Mek-Tek yelped in a panic.
Floating from the hull of the Astralaceaes, Haledon drifted along the surface of the Megacolides. He passed Witch-Hazel, giving a slight nod before twisting his head back in the direction he drifted. The stars hovered around him, and he felt at peace momentarily.
As Haledon neared the top of the ship's face, he reached a hand back. The Druid muttered, casting out a tethering vine to the roots beneath. The vine snapped taut, swinging him towards the ship's flesh, where his boots landed atop the leathery surface with a dull thud.
"Sorry," Haledon apologized as he looked at Mek-Tek. "I felt an urge."
"Yeah, well," Mek-Tek said as he signed with his hands and, reaching down, connected a vine from Haledon to his waist. "Momentum and gravity, or lack thereof, can be problematic. And we're a long way from a gravity skimmer—"
"Not really, probably just under that first layer of scales." Witch-Hazel interrupted as they pulled themselves into a standing position.
"I don't want to drift through space, thanks!" Mek-Tek said sharply before inhaling from his straw and concealing himself within his clouds.
"What about you?" Haledon asked Witch-Hazel.
"Been there, done that, got the Sprouts Badge—" They replied, smiling before continuing to march forward.
Reaching the edge of the Megacolides' exterior armour, Witch-Hazel reached out to touch the nearest scale. As Haledon drew near, he examined the armour's outer bark. It was dark and scarred with thick ridges. Admiring the texture, it began to set in how large the individual scales were. Haledon quickly estimated that the plates were as wide as he was tall and stretched a hundred steps in width.
"This is what killed the Mecharrion Scout?" He asked in awe, touching the plate curiously.
"Yeah," Witch-Hazel replied and looked at Haledon. "I'm not going to lie—when Sparrow pitched this idea for a ship's defence, I thought she had lost her mind."
"You and Sparrow designed the Megacolides?"
"Me? No." Witch-Hazel laughed, releasing their hand from the armour and bowing their head as they began to walk through the narrow passage under the slanted scale. "That was all Sparrow and Tallgrass. I just invited myself for the drinks."
Haledon continued to examine the scales as he instinctually ducked his head and followed Witch-Hazel. Entering the darkness, Haledon whispered to himself and transformed his open palm into a faintly glowing beacon.
YOU ARE READING
The Astralaceaes
Science FictionAboard the Astralaceae, Haledon's purpose was simple: to maintain the balance of nutrients that kept the bramble ship floating through space and seeding planets. Or it would have been if not for the sudden arrival of Druids from Earth and their deli...
