Lifeline to the Stars

Autel ‘Vadamai’s senses were greeted by moist subterranean air as he clambered down into the vehicle bay. Though there was some bracing in the walls and ceiling, it was mostly made up of natural stone with a few patches of densely packed dirt here and there. Not far from a pair of unattended Ghosts, Fira ‘Demal had seated himself behind the controls of a Spectre, and Autel hastened over, practically collapsing into the passenger seat as the last dredges of adrenaline ebbed away. His friend shot him a look of consternation but said nothing.
And then they zipped away into the only connected tunnel, the hum of the Spectre’s propulsion drive filling the passage and casting a purple-blue glow along the walls. Autel closed his eyes, his aching body momentarily abated by the cool rushing wind. It had been his mate Ceyla’s idea to construct the escape tunnel, and not for the first time, her instincts had been correct.
Fira tapped his communicator while steering with one hand. “I have him. We’re on our way.”
“Good,” came the voice of Elumi, Ceyla’s personal bodyguard. “Rakh is initiating the final launch sequence. House ‘Cazal has vacated their keep and is boarding now.”
“And what of my kin?” asked Fira.
“Elder ‘Demal is evacuating them into the mountains. He expects retaliation from the Seeker of Truth any moment now.”
Sure enough, a rapid string of muffled explosions was heard overhead, sending dust raining down as the tunnel shook in response. Through the layers of stone above, Autel could faintly make out the distinctive whine of Seraph fighters. “Bombers. My father has learned of my survival. His wrath will consume the entire village if we linger.”
“Fira. Status.” The gruff voice was instantly recognizable as Ka’nar ‘Demal, elder of the Demal Keep.
“Our way remains unobstructed, elder,” responded Fira, strafing the Spectre to the left to avoid a falling rock. “We’ll clear the tunnel long before they collapse it.”
“Good. We’ve spotted Phantoms heading for the shipyard. Remain vigilant.”
“They shall not triumph over us today. Take care, uncle.”
“And you, nephew. Honour our House always, no matter how far your journey takes you.”
The transmission was disrupted by a particularly aggressive explosion, and a cascade of rocks tumbled into the junction up ahead. Autel cursed under his breath once he was close enough to see that the main tunnel was buried in rubble. Without slowing down, Fira swung the Spectre into a side tunnel, prompting Autel to shield his face amidst a shower of stones clattering against the vehicle’s metallic frame.
When the albino opened his eyes, he was able to make out the distant glow of twin propulsors down the tunnel. Fira gave him a sidelong glance, his keen eyes taking in Autel’s battered condition. “We face them head-on. Can you reach the gun?”
They were close now; Ghosts, Autel could tell from the sound of their turbines. He waited for Fira to ease up on the Spectre’s propulsor before rising to a half-standing position, one hand gripping the side of the vehicle while he shimmied with his back against the hull in order to reach the plasma turret. He practically lunged onto the gun, one hand clumsily slipping from the blood slicking his palms even as his other hand held on stubbornly. Fira, having noticed this, slowed the Spectre slightly as the Ghosts opened fire.
Through the burning scent of plasma sizzling against metal, Autel finally managed to steady himself enough to return fire. He was nearly thrown off the Spectre as Fira accelerated unexpectedly in order to speed past the Ghosts. The albino swivelled the turret about and sprayed plasma into the tunnel as more projectiles whizzed past his head, straining to listen for the positions of the enemy vehicles. The overlapping echoes of gunfire and propulsors reflecting off the tunnel walls were too disorienting, however. “Am I hitting them?”
Fira glanced back and winced. “You shoot like a du’nak, if a du’nak had thumbs. Hold on.” He spun the Spectre around, bringing them to a brief halt as he drew his pistol. The vehicle launched forward once again. “I’ll slow one of them down. Be ready.”
The dark tunnel flashed with pulses of blue as the vehicles sped toward one another, plasma spitting furiously from their cannons. Autel became aware of a green glow from Fira’s position, and just then the sharpshooter shot an overcharged bolt at the nearest Ghost. Even as they zipped past each other again, Autel managed to hone in on the sound of its engines winding down amidst a crackle of EMP. A lifetime of training allowed his mind to paint a sonic image of its contours within a heartbeat, and the albino pointed the turret directly at the driver and fired. He was gratified to hear the sound of a body tumbling to the ground a moment later.
There was no time to reorient himself, however, for the second Ghost could be heard closing in. Autel stiffened upon hearing the faint but telltale whine of a plasma grenade from the driver’s direction. To his surprise, Fira plowed sideways into the Ghost, right next to the Spectre’s turret. At that moment, Autel caught the blue glow emanating from the driver’s hand and instinctively grabbed his ria’kun. The plasma blade flashed out as it ignited in an instant, severing the enemy’s grenade arm in a single swing. The Sangheili howled in agony as Fira gunned the Spectre’s propulsors, barely managing to clear himself and Autel of the ensuing blast as it consumed the Ghost.
Autel sheathed his blade, panting while still holding onto the turret with his other hand. “Can a du’nak with thumbs do that?”
“I’ll let you know if I ever meet one,” Fira responded dryly.
The end of the tunnel came into view up ahead, and beyond it was the underground hangar concealing Ceyla’s secret project. It had taken a lot of trust for her to allow anyone outside her House to know about it, but she had relented on a select few individuals at Autel’s behest. With the war against humanity showing no sign of letting up, the architects and engineers of House ‘Cazal lived in perpetual fear of being drafted for the war effort — or exterminated for refusing. And now that day has come. But we are ready... I hope.
Though the details of the hangar were still out of focus, Autel could hear the sounds of a gunfight ahead. The tunnel exit was obstructed by Sangheili clad in the iconic silver of the Evocati; Thel’s forces, which meant that the zealot himself couldn’t be far. Determined not to underestimate his father again, Autel sprayed the enemies with a barrage of gunfire, trying to clear a path for the Spectre. One soldier fell, then two, and then as the shields sputtered out on a third, the Ultra braced himself as a white barrier enveloped him.
Autel squinted, momentarily confused about what he was seeing. Conversely, Fira flipped open the driver’s safety hatch and immediately leapt at him. The two of them tumbled haphazardly to the ground as the Spectre collided with the Ultra and was instantly obliterated in a red-purple explosion.
A furious ringing sounded in Autel’s ears as he dazedly stumbled upright, dimly aware that Fira had gotten up clutching his rifle. The albino reached for his ria’kun, prepared to take on any potential enemies to survive the explosion. But to his surprise, out of the glowing mist appeared four or five hazy figures, expediently cutting down the Covenant troops. Autel quickly recognized their silhouettes as that of Captain Jido and the guards of the Vadam Keep. He breathed a sigh of relief as the hangar settled into stillness, all the while hobbling toward the stealth corvette docked next to the launch tunnel. The Resurgent Nova, a modified Makar-pattern light corvette constructed by House ‘Cazal as a last resort. And now, a lifeline.
“Hurry, kaidon,” urged Jido. “The bombers are destroying all the ships in the external yards. They will bury this tunnel before long.”
“Are you coming with us?” Autel asked.
“I am not,” the captain replied flatly. “For all your would-be usurpers, there are some who remain loyal to you. They have tasked me to ensure your survival at any cost.”
Ceyla was inspecting the Nova’s hull, one hand cupped beneath her slightly bulging belly. Elumi, hovering vigilantly at her shoulder, did not take her eyes off the tunnels. “The next wave of attackers will be here soon, milady. You’d be safer waiting aboard the ship.”
“I’d be waiting to die a slow death if this ship gets scuppered,” responded Ceyla, using her free hand to hold up a scanner to a section of hull frayed by plasma scoring. “Okay, we can go.” She peered up from her scanner upon noticing Autel’s approach and winced at seeing his bloodied state.
He returned the look with a reproachful stare. “Elumi’s right. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself.”
Ceyla’s mandibles parted in an ironic smile. “Go lie down, milord, before the blood loss takes you.”
Autel wrinkled his nose, aware that she only used honorifics in front of the others to annoy him. But he did not argue as Fira led him toward the corvette’s gravity lift, and instead asked, “How long until takeoff?”
“Not long,” Ceyla assured him. “The power recyclers are almost fully charged.”
“Do we need them fully charged?”
“Only for oxygen, water, artificial gravity...”
Autel scowled at her, but had no time to respond as he stopped short of the gravity lift, prompting a quizzical look from Fira. The albino reached for his ria’kun as the sound of a Phantom could be heard emerging from the launch tunnel. The form of a lone gold-armoured Sangheili could be seen nimbly dropping to the ground, and even from a distance the scent blowing in from the tunnel was one that remained fresh in Autel’s mind — Thel ‘Vadamee.
The albino was about to take a step in his direction when Fira tackled him into the gravity beam, prompting a roar of surprise and indignation. “Wait, no—” Autel struggled without success to writhe free as Ceyla and Elumi stepped beneath the lift as well, while Jido began striding calmly toward Thel with his own ria’kun in hand. “Uncle... don’t—”
And then the Nova’s hatch slammed shut beneath Autel, depositing him and the others into the deployment bay. Ceyla wasted no time, thumbing the transmitter on her utility lapel and shouting, “Take off, Rakh! Now!”
The Nova’s fusion reactor could be heard whirring to life, and despite his own unsteadiness, Autel forced himself to his feet yet again, staggering in the direction of the bridge and ignoring Fira’s protests. He could hear the others running after him but did not slow his pace, dimly aware of some kind of numbness dulling the incessant sting from his most grievous injuries.
It did not take long to reach the bridge due to the Nova’s modest size, and Autel made it to the viewport just in time to catch one last glimpse of the hangar bay; he couldn’t be certain, but it looked like Jido was slowing being backed against a wall by Thel — and then their forms were whisked away as the corvette hurtled into the launch tunnel. The sudden acceleration sent Autel toppling backward onto his knees, and this time he found he had no energy to get back up. At the front of the bridge, Rakh ‘Pyron was monitoring the main control console, too preoccupied with his task to notice Autel’s presence.
Autel did not turn at the sound of Fira approaching with Ceyla and Elumi, too spent to even raise his head. “You were right, Fira,” the albino murmured, his voice barely more than a feeble rasp. “I have no keep to call my own.” His trembling hand grasped the cloak dangling loosely from his left shoulder, singed and torn but still bearing the sigil of House ‘Vadam of Rahnelo — and he vigorously ripped it free, letting it slip from his fingers.
Ceyla knelt before him, cradling his face against her palm. “Yes you do. The Resurgent Nova is your keep now, and its people are your clan. You fought your way back to them.”
“I fought my way back to you.” Autel’s eyes found Ceyla’s, one hand resting upon her midsection. “To give you what pieces are left of the life I promised you when we took our vows.”
“We can build a new one together, ad’tunhea"Ad’tunhea": Intimate term for a lifelong companion, reserved for closed or private relationships.. There is no future I fear so long as I have you.”
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