The noise hadn’t stopped. Command had said it would - she was just too hyped up on adrenaline and meds. She told them it had never affected her. Brass told her to walk it off. Gave her a medallion and a pat on the back, expecting her to be back on her feet the next day.
They hadn’t seen it.
Only she had. She wished she hadn’t. She’d die for the rebellion, but only if she wouldn’t see it again. She had changed. She never wanted anyone to see it. To fight it. Not like she had.
She rinsed her face and stared into the mirror. When her mechanic had told her something was different, she had brushed it off. Only later did she see what he meant.
Storm had been proud of her eyes. They matched her name, busy and cloudy, with the slightest hint of blue.
Her eyes now carried none of that blue. Colorless.
“Gamma squadron, you are clear. Godspeed.”
Storm slammed the throttle to maximum. This was their chance; Her chance. She fought the yoke as she plunged ever closer towards the darkness. Around her the horizon approached, and she adjusted her attack path into the fissure.
Ahead of her, Scorch plunged into the ravine, and the rest weren’t far behind. She let a grin break out across her face. This would be their chance to shine, to guarantee a future for the rebellion.
The sound of her footsteps helped drown out the cry. She walked erratically, uneven steps never quite the same. It helped her stay grounded. She’d likely never be able to fly again, the hum of the engines far too rhythmic. She soon stepped into the vast hanger they operated out of, and kept her pace.
The shop was busy, and Storm was glad for it. The rhythm of irregularity helped soothe her head. As she walked past, some of the younger cadets waved to her. Few commanded genuine respect from the rookies, but what was left of Gamma had earned it.
Silver lining.
“Alright Team. Form up, and we’ll be in and out in no time” Scorch’s voice was quiet and even, yet no less commanding.
Only about two kilometers away, she pulled back on the throttle, rolling her fighter into alignment with the seam. Not much clearance, but they’d all practiced for this. Soon her cockpit was plunged into darkness until the lights flicked on automatically. She flew by her map now, floodlights too narrow to aid her vision. Maneuvering by practiced motion, all four ships soon found themselves in the hollowed core of the asteroid.
Her comms flickered to life again, “Shields up, take out the sentries, and we’ll hit the core.” It struck Storm as odd, how few defenses there really were, all of which were easily dispatched by the old team. With a hint of pride, she wondered if this might even be an easy mission.
One of the older guys nodded at Foxtail as Storm approached. The two were the last of Gamma now, and the team’s sacrifice had become something of a legend. Foxtail had been their homegrown hacker, content to work from a distance. Everyone knew that she was just as much a part of the team as the rest, and that became more clear with the rest of the squad gone. Losing most of the squad had taken a toll, and neither of them were sure they’d be able to fight with a new crew. It wouldn’t be the same.
Fox pulled the headphones off her ears, and a small smile formed on her face. Their moments in the bustling repair bay were likely the closest either of them would get to normalcy, and command gladly turned a blind eye to them slacking off. The red-headed girl clambered up the ship, and Storm was glad to follow.
She pulled a pair of cigarettes from her jacket pocket, giving one to her squadmate, and lit them both. They sat and watched the rest of the rebels work. There wasn’t the same urgency that had driven them before that fight, and both were glad for it. It almost made that mission seem worth it.
Almost
As the other three moved deeper into the complex, Storm fidgeted with her console until it displayed the targeting screen. Her lack of piloting experience meant she’d been relegated to long range duty, a role she was plenty familiar with.
Command had told them just one good shot would be enough to take it out. All they had to do was hit it before it obliterated them. It was encased by shielding, though which side was shielded was up for debate. Getting the codes for the release had been an ordeal, but it had made the whole mission possible.
With a hiss, Scorch was on comms again. “Foxtail, open the core”
“Yes ma’am”
Even when she smoked, her breath was erratic. She and Fox both sat in silence, conversations held in empty noise. Storm had just taken out an entire cruiser herself, and this was their celebration.
When Gamma had a successful mission they’d trash every bar on whatever backwater planet they were stationed on, the whole team leaving a trail of chaos behind them. Now the remains of it were too scared to let their safeguards down. They’d watched that thing kill their friends.
It haunted them both.
As the contraption heaved, Dropout and Breakneck broke off, each one keeping distance. As much as they hoped for no casualties, they all worked to minimize the number no matter what. With a flick of a switch, Storm’s missiles were armed, and she hovered her finger over the activator. With a small smile, she was reminded of her WSO days, when she wasn’t allowed near a piloting position.
It was a gasp over comms that shook that smile from her face. It was a scream over comms that brought a panic to her core. It was the second scream that would haunt her dreams.
Primal fear.
When the ships reported Drop and Break dead, the screams didn’t stop. The echoes of dead men howling, forever repeating into space.
That was the noise of the heart.
Years ago, a young Storm had lamented her lack of imagination; she wasn’t gifted with a mind's eye like her peers. She depended on the map more than any of her fellow trainees, and was helpless without the holographic aid. It was riding shotgun with Scorch that had let her fly, back in the old army. She had resented everyone in the program with her, allowed to be pilots, while she was forced into the back seat.
It saved her life.
Even Fox, in haunted moments, talked of the heart. She said it never left her mind. She could see every horrible line of the thing. Every vein, and every pore, etched into her head forever. Even across the system, it had wormed its horrible visage into her head.
Storm was cursed, and she was lucky.
She turned to her only companion. As she watched the girl, she tried to remember her emerald green eyes, once a siren’s call of the rebellion. Now they matched Storm’s, colorless and smooth.
They hadn’t always been so dark though.
Or so lifeless.
Her scream came too late.
She was always too late.
She was shivering. She’d never been so cold while flying. Somewhere in reality, she heard Scorch fire at that thing. She heard the third scream. She couldn’t look.
Her eyes pressed shut, she let instinct guide her, every weapon she had discharged at the horrible thing.
Fox told her she killed it.
They told her it was dead.
But the screams didn’t stop.
According to the logs, when the missiles had hit the horrid lump, the screams had stopped.
But she still heard them.
When the rescue teams had pried Gamma squadron out of their cockpits, there had been hope, swiftly extinguished when they had seen their eyes. They were still breathing, but their eyes were inky black, empty and lifeless.
Every morning, Storm stared into the mirror, terrified that her eyes would look the same. That she had been too slow, and she was now awaiting her punishment. But only the color was gone.
As she watched her squadmate’s eyes, she saw what had kept her awake. It hadn’t so much coated her eyes as it had sucked away the last vestiges of life.
When the rest of them had fallen, they screamed in fear. When Fox fell, she cried. She had seen it marching ever closer, steadily pulling her mind apart, until it tore at the seams. She wasn’t ready. Storm wasn’t either.
Later that same day she told command that she was done. This wasn’t a war they could win. Only late in the night, alone in the empty bunks, did she turn the moment over. She tried to remember every detail of that scene, and only now did she finally realize what scared her so much.
She hadn’t seen the thing die.