My Glide On Death

Chapter 10: The Martian Pursuit

I thought it would be a peaceful flight until we got closer to Mars, but no—the Death Glider’s constant chatter wouldn’t allow it.

At least it was fun debating with it.

“Caution. We are about to enter the fire zone of the Martian laser cannons. I will increase speed, and the journey will become rough,” the Death Glider warned.

Though my seat already had stabilizers, it suddenly began to float. Bluish rings appeared beneath it, making the seat hover in place. Now, even if the Death Glider flipped upside down, I would remain upright.

A strange noise reached my ears, like energy concentrating somewhere. Before I could react, the laser cannons fired. Five shots in quick succession.

The spacecraft jerked violently. It dodged the attacks so quickly it felt like teleportation, racing full-speed toward Mars. Thirty seconds passed, yet we weren’t as close as I expected. The Death Glider was slowing down under the barrage of attacks. I took control, targeting the cannons on the Martian surface. I missed two shots but managed to hit three.

We were close now—I could see Mars’ surface clearly. The cannons ceased fire. Just when I thought we were safe, I realized we were about to crash. And the worst part? There was no control to slow us down.

I braced myself, then jumped out, activating my plasma jet boots to control my descent. The lower gravity made my fall slower, but I knew the Death Glider, moving faster than the speed of sound, would create a massive shockwave on impact.

I was ready for it.

I glided downward, my plasma jet boots keeping me steady in the near-vacuum of Mars. The thin atmosphere meant there was almost no drag, and I had to be careful not to overshoot my descent. The red landscape stretched endlessly below, still and barren, save for the dust slowly settling after the Death Glider's fall.

In the distance, the Death Glider hurtled toward the Martian surface, barely slowed by the thin air. I angled my jets, trying to keep pace but putting distance between myself and the inevitable crash. There was no shockwave of air like on Earth, but the impact would send debris flying in all directions at high velocity.

The Death Glider smashed into the ground, creating a silent explosion of red dust and shattered rock. Without much air to muffle the sound, what little noise there was hit me almost immediately—a low, dull thud that I felt more than heard.

I hovered, watching as debris scattered in a wide radius, the thin atmosphere making the dust plume disperse far more slowly than it would on Earth. I touched down softly, a few hundred meters away from the impact site, careful not to disturb the dust that was still lazily swirling in the weak Martian gravity.

The wreckage of the Death Glider was smoking, but there wasn’t as much visible damage as I expected. Without the thick atmosphere to generate friction, the ship hadn’t burned up much on descent. Still, the crash had done its damage, bending the ship’s frame and warping its systems.

I approached cautiously, my footsteps barely stirring the red dust. The atmosphere was so thin that sound barely carried, and everything felt eerily silent, as if the entire planet was holding its breath. The only noise was the distant hum of the ship’s failing systems, a faint crackle of energy as it struggled to power back up.

The Death Glider’s voice crackled through the wreckage, distorted and robotic. “System... critical... malfunction... attempting... reboot.”

I frowned. Even after that crash, the AI was still trying to pull itself together.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me trembled violently, as if it were about to split in two. Instinctively, I hovered back, alert, knowing this had to be an attack. But to my relief, it was nothing alarming. The Death Glider was sinking into the Martian soil, just as I had been briefed. It was self-healing, and when I returned from my mission, it would reemerge, fully restored.