The Collapse

Chapter 17: Lancer

Alder sat in the back of an Albatross, his mind still trying to wrap itself around Ember's revelation. There was just no way he could be a clone, much less an extremely advanced, super-warrior clone. But even as he told himself that, he knew it was right. Fighting had always been in Alder's blood, and he loved the adrenaline rush he got from one. Finally he pushed it out of his head. He knew he'd drive himself mad if he kept on it, and he knew he had to keep a cool head.

He shifted his attention to the open cargo door, where a unit of soldiers were coming in. There was just enough room for them to march single file down the lane between the seats, and the first in line, a young woman with short bleached hair put up in a bun, sat down next to Alder, cradling an assault rifle. She glanced at Alder, and a smile lit her face up. "I'll be damned! If it isn't the Pilot that saved our asses!" She stuck out her hand. "2nd Lieutenant Vanessa Lancer, Tornado 1-3."

Alder took her hand and shook it briefly. "Alder Ward." He studied her face for a moment, puzzled as to what she meant when she started talking again. "I won't lie, I thought we were up a creek with no paddle when that monster busted through the door. But lo and behold, it just upped and flew away without any warning."

Alder stole a quick glance back at her, then turned away. "Glad I could help," he rumbled, not in the mood for a conversation. But Vanessa either couldn't see that or just flat out didn't care. After the Albatross's main engine flared to life and lifted the ship into the air, she went on, "Man, I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up. Well, I do, but I'd rather not --"

Alder cut her off with a raised hand. Something wasn't right. Over the mumbled sounds of men cleaning their weapons and talking among themselves, he could hear a faint hissing noise that grew louder with each moment. "Brace! Rocket incoming!" Alder bellowed, gripping his own safety handhold. All but a few soldiers followed his instructions almost immediately. Without warning, the gunship swayed heavily as the rocket seared past, eliciting outcries from some of the younger soldiers. An explosion, too close for comfort, ripped the air apart for a moment, only to be replaced with another terrifying hissing.

This time, the warhead hit the side of the armored gunship, sending it into a spin. Inside the hold, most men were holding onto their safety devices with one hand and their mouth with the other. Those who weren't at risk of being sick were either bawling out of fear or praying to some obscene god. Alder did none of those. He squeezed the handhold so tight he thought it'd give way, but he remained silent, determined to get out of this alive.