War of Elysium

Chapter Nineteen: Elysium falls

        Victory was for brighter days. This was a day for retreat. The sun would crest another time in another place, maybe even for another man. 
"Grow it out." She said. Reese turned to his to side and there she was, looking up at him with those big eyes that always seemed to glint with emerald starlight no matter the time of day. 
"What?" He asked in a daze. She stepped closer to him and ran a hand through the tangled mess of his fledgling beard.
"You should grow it out. I always wondered what you'd look like with a beard?" She said, beaming.
"That's easy, he'd look old." The other said. She sprang aside and dodged past Reese and Serah, clearly uninterested in talking with them. A mess of white hair fell from beneath her black and pink baseball cap. She slicked it back and bundled what remained into the hat. 

The corridor was dark. The sunlight couldn't reach through this much cold steel; but nor could the flaming hail.

Reese scratched at his massing stubble while he walked along the corridor. "It'll get in the way." He mumbled to himself. He stepped over a fallen pipe and rounded the corner where he found the vast hangar bay and the frantic people within. A horde of chiefs and farmers, tailors and cobblers bundled into improvised transports by the thousand.  Above them, a hundred soldiers kept their watch from catwalks and suspended platforms. They seemed to be more interested in their comm devices than their duties. Had Reese been their CO he'd have had them all running laps of the hangar in full gear for the discrepancy.

He noticed that, despite the vast open hangar bay door, the sun still didn't reach him. He looked out at the island and saw why. What could have been a million shuttles fled east. A cloud of fresh refugees, like a vast plague of locusts, blotted out the sun as they swarmed the sky. Soon enough, he would be at the front of the retreat; fleeing defeat and dodging death for one more day. 

"Lieutenant!" A spot scarred young corporal called out. Reese turned to him and waved away the young man's salute. "Your shuttle is ready, sir! How many onboard?" He asked.
"Sintred's coming with us." Iris shouted from amongst a small crowd. He realised she was treating an old man's minor injuries. A scrape and scratch as well as what looked like a bed sore. It was a waste of resources, but she wouldn't care. 
"Lara Black, Adeladia Tempish, Iris Commons, Bernard Garrison, Emanual Sintred and myself." Reese counted aloud for the soldier. The boy marked the names down, ticking as Reese spoke.
"Oh..." The boy said. "It seems we are expecting one more, Sir. An... Aricci Mason?" 
Reese took a moment to respond and when he finally did, his voice was much colder than it should have been. "Mason was lost in action." He grimly reported. The boy nodded slightly but didn't react otherwise. Where he had given the other names ticks, he wrote 'LIA' for Archi.

The boy guided him along the winding catwalks. There was three layers of pathway. The bottom most was for the displaced; the menial folk who kept Elysium alive. They were penned in and funnelled along, though most had already left by this point. The next layer was a series of suspended catwalks. The shuttles awaiting passengers here were much more sturdy. Armoured personal carriers, meant for soldiers. The worryingly sparse men and women jogging along into their designated craft would soon be sent to fight off any MOG forces that hadn't been crippled by oblivion. The top layer, the layer on which Reese walked, held priority craft. Convoys for dignitaries and top line jets meant for scientists and VIPs. 

"And... This is you, sir." The boy said, pointing towards a clunky but well armoured shuttle. 
"It's older than you?" Reese complained. He ran a finger along the thick steel body and a layer of pure black dust came off, exposing the blue paint below.
"I'm sure that's not true, sir." The boy politely laughed. "All other VIP vessels have been sent off already, I'm afraid." 

He opened the door and inspected the ancient interior. The ship seemed like it had been in storage since the old war. He didn't bother dusting it down as there wouldn't be nearly enough time.