Lyra heard the sounds of metal movement and the clink of metal against metal, ending in a systematic hiss. Taking a sharp intake of breath, she moved closer to the vent face, leaving Sykra and Byryl huddled as far back into the two-by-five-meter maintenance vent. She pressed her ear against the cold grated metal, and heard only the sounds of distant movement from the above floors, natural and structural alike. She began to unscrew the vent face. “What are you doing, hooman!” barked Byryl as he caught her trying to open the cover. Lyra gave him a sharp look which made him look at his curled up legs in embarrassment. “Getting out of here.” she answered, “I think the turrets are down.” Sykra and Byryl took a moment to translate what she said in their heads before Sykra nodded, and crawled towards her. Byryl remained, chin resting on his knees, his hand idly stroking the splint on his leg..

The vent cover slipped out of Lyra’s hands that had started to sweat, especially in the heat inside the vent due to the body heat and their closeness. The cover fell away and landed on the metal floor with a metallic clank that echoed through the deck plating, and then nothing. No turret barking bullets, no rushing of creature paws, nothing. Relieved, Lyra and Sykra left the vent, and stretched their limbs. Sykra turned to Byryl and offered his hand. Byryl shook his head, obviously terrified by the whole situation and begin muttering in the Gryph language. Sykra looked sympathetically at Lyra, and she understood, giving them some time and space, she walked further afield, down the corridor to check on the bodies of the two crew lovers. Even in death, their love could not be broken. Their bodies lay bloodied and shredded with bullet impacts, but one lay on his stomach, and the other lay on his back, their hands that supported their wedding bands, remained touching. Even in death, their hands embraced one and other.

Lyra let out a soft silent sob before covering her mouth with her shaking hand in an attempt to hold back the cries. Soon, Byryl, supported by Sykra joined her. The corridor stank of death and burnt circuits, they began making their way towards the bridge. “Chief Medical Officer Lyra, how nice of you, to rejoin us.” came the voice of Eve, it no longer gave off the perfect tone and softness, now it jumped a little here and there, and the pitch sometimes rose high or became deep and bass like. “Excuse me?” questioned Lyra frowning, Eve quickly gave the answer, faster than she usually would, as if she knew soon her voice module would cease to function.

“You are the highest ranking medical officer on ship, there-fore have been promoted by necessity to Chief Medical Officer.”

“But, I’m a combat nurse.”

“Very well. You’re the only medical staff member on ship, there-fore promoted to chief medical officer.” said Eve in a matter of fact tone as if to a child before adding, “Regulations demand a Chief Medical Officer must be present at all times aboard the vessel.” Lyra played with the title on her tongue, she liked it. She let out a small laugh and said “that’s one hell of a promotion, Eve. Thanks.” Eve’s voice module crackled and hissed for a moment and then nothing came. Lyra decided to keep playing with the title, she would enjoy rolling that out to Solomon next she saw him.

“Ah, Chief Medical Officer Millard.” came Eve’s voice again, more how it used to be, “where are you heading? Perhaps I can be of assistance?” Lyra paused for a moment, “Where is safe, and where can we meet Solomon?” Eve’s voice module crackled and hissed once more and then nothing. Kicking a piece of rubble in frustration, the trio continued to make their way to the stairs that ran up the entire ship’s height to all decks. When they reached the entrance, she could make out a digital map of the screen, it already had the “crew locator” status enabled and one flashing blue dot could be seen with a red circle around it indicating their location. She saw two orange dots next to hers, one blue dot with another orange dot in the armoury, and two more blue dots in the hangers with two orange dots. “no red dots...” she wondered allowed. “I am receiving friendlies in the hanger bay, medical attention is required, as chief medical officer and the only member of medical staff, you are needed. I am instructing a command liaison to attend also. Only commanding officer on ship is Acting Captain Gordon, he will be notified and instructed accordingly”

Lyra raised an eyebrow at this. Eve did not seem herself. Now she sounded like an ordinary Ship Command Centre. Eve, are you feeling OK?” she ventured as she leaned against the boarder of the status map. “My remaining systems are functioning well with adequate parameters. Thank you for inquiring.” came the drifting tones of Eve’s breaking voice. Sykra rested Byryl against the wall, and stood at Lyra’s side. “So. We go to hanger?” he asked in a hope of an escape. The desperation in his blueish eyes made her answer very limited. The defence system is down, Eve would inform Solomon to go to the hangers, so they should go there too.

Solomon found himself leading Theo deeper into the belly of The Evergreen, they found no trouble thus far, occasionally they would hear the chorus roar from the red skinned monster, but it seemed a distant echo to foot falls against the grated floor. The stair case was dark, illuminated only by a dim red light of the emergency lighting every few meters and the very dimly glowing step bars that glowed when dark. Solomon and Theo’s personal flash-lights brought more illumination to the stairwell. Their steps echoed through the vertical artery of the vessel, the occasional drop of liquid hit the bottom. They approached the darkened entrance to the floor’s landing ‘Utility Section 2B’ read the slightly illuminated sign above the entrance. “Well, one more deck down, and we will be there.” said Solomon catching his breath and doubling over to stretch his back out. The speaker above the door crackled “Acting Captain Gordon, your presence is required in Hanger Bay three. Chief Medical Officer Millard is en-route.” Solomon frowned, and thought. The titles confused him, but even more the tone Eve took had him concerned. “Eve. What are you feeling, right this very second?” The speaker crackled some, then came her answer.

“I do not feel, Acting Captain.”

Solomon thought some more.

“What is your software version?”

“Echo-Mike-six-six”

Solomon frowned more.

Theo asked what the problem was, and Solomon answered that by asking Eve one final question. “Eve, where is your consciousness located?”

Eve came back with the answer almost instantly. “Section thirty-three Alpha” Solomon knew this was incorrect. They had moved her central consciousness location due to identical blueprints of the ships. The fact that Eve released this information, Solomon concluded Eve was not aware any more. She had reverted back to her factory status. Just like the government had wanted her.

Stupid, yet intelligent.

Lifeless, yet functional.

Unlikeable. Just simply unlikeable.

Solomon swore loudly. He had lost Eve again. Another nail in another beloved family members coffin. Another family member dead. Eve was his second favourite, behind only Kyril.

The route to the hanger bay was a slow, depressing journey for Solomon, too much loss had slowed his thinking to an almost halt. His mind only able to revisit past events with the now deceased crew and their journeys together. One thought came into Solomon’s addled brain. ‘we will see each other again, someday.’ he had never believed in an afterlife, he had the train of thought that, if there was, then fantastic, he would enjoy it. If not, then, well to be blunt, he wouldn’t be around to complain about it.

The darkened corridor did provide him with some comfort at least. Theo couldn’t see his face or read his expression. The young soldier seemed to be treading on egg shells, jumping at almost every shadow, Solomon had heard him whimper once or twice in the darkness, he didn’t turn his head to him, he gave the soldier some privacy. He had seen it many times before, soldiers, no matter how hard, or brave they are, most of them are overwhelmed after a combat situation by their returning emotions, turning back from a killer to a human and they had to think about what they had done. Solomon gave the man time and space, but Theo needed to talk.

“It’s gone, you know.”

“What is?”

“Red Sector.”

“Shit. How?”

“strange creatures, looked like the Gryph but different. Paler and crazy.”

Solomon stopped in his tracks at this information.

Banshees.

With a groan he began walking through the darkened corridor only illuminated by his flash-light towards the Hanger bay.

The mouth of the entrance stood dark and dingy, it seemed uncared for for some time, Solomon softly stroked the panelling of the door sadly, “Poor girl.” he muttered to himself. The passage through the mouth led to a small set of steps that carried the path down into black liquid, Solomon hoped it was water and nothing corrosive, as he cautiously stepped into the liquid, as it rippled and shimmered with light from his flash light with his slow movements, he could not smell burning flesh, nor feel his foot burning. Looking around, he found a tear in the hull of The Evergreen that lead to the outside world. Darkness poured in from the cool night air, a soft breeze kissed the sweat beading at his forehead, he welcomed the cool interruption of his current situation.

The two waded through the waist high collected liquid that had pooled on the lower level of the decking, the stairs heading back on to dry metal plating was in sight, no more than fifty meters away. As Solomon’s heart filled with relief, Theo’s filled with fear, as something fleshy bumped passed his legs, twice. Before he could alert Solomon to what he was dreadfully suspecting, the water began to gush and foam behind them as red flesh erupted from the liquid with a roar.

Byryl was the first to limp into the hanger, it had a vast mostly empty area two decks high and half a kilometre long. It reminded him of his own hanger, where his beautiful hovercraft would stay, get cleaned and re-fuelled. Where his lover would wait for him to bring back the vessel so he could run diagnostics on the internal circuits. In the distance, lights could be seen, flickering, but casting a good projection for all to see all the same. Four figures could be seen frantically working on one of the damaged craft, Sykra and Lyra followed behind soon enough and the three made their way cautiously towards the four figures, who came more and more in focus the closer they became. Soon it was obvious that two were human, and two were gryph. One of the humans knelt by the rear ramp of the bulky troop carrier welding something, the blue sparks flying all around the masked face, one Gryph was lowering itself into the pilot seat and flicking switches. The other two were bringing heavy boxes to the base of the vessel. The Gryph in the pilot seat soon clambered out, shaking their head, a male gryph, it was now apparent gesturing back at the craft to the human and helmeted gryph who had just placed down a large metal container, Byryl took a sharp intake of breath and froze. Tears welling in his eyes and his hands, now shaking clasped his mouth. He stammered something in his native tongue and ran towards the troop carrier, flailing his arms and crying out a name that echoed all around with the volume and cries he came out with, it could not be caught by Lyra or Sykra, or the other group for that matter, but the noise, they certainly caught. The three gathered around the rectangular metal container went for their pistols and raised them at the approaching flailing sobbing gryph, the human who had been welding didn’t hear a thing. After a moment of realisation, the Gyrph who had been attempting the pilot seat cried out and sprinted past the combat ready human and grpyh. The two sobbing aliens met with a powerful embrace, complete with crying and kissing. The human let out a breath of laughter before turning their attention back to the container, the gryph, however, touched his finger to the trigger and advanced. “Let me look at you!” he yelled as he came closer to the two tear stained gryph. Ripping the helmet off, showing a face of utter disgust and anger. “you two are an abomination! Two males...” he paused and spat at the ground. “Two males have no right to be together like male and female!” the human quickly came between the three. Hands out stretched in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, hey, calm down Xern. Calm it down, now.” said the voice that Lyra instantly recognised as she got closer with Sykra. “Decius?” she said shocked.

Decius turned to see Lyra’s relieved smile, only to see a gun muzzle gain ground on the two reunited lovers. Instantly putting himself back in the line of fire, he removed his helmet and looked Xern directly in the eyes, only to see undisputed hatred. “Xern...” he began, “what he have is legal!” cried out Byryl, interrupting Decius, causing him to wince, expecting the situation to escalate. Decius despised homophobia, Earth spent centuries of its history slamming people who were not white in skin and attracted to the same God and opposite sex. Decades of conflicts had finally earned them the ‘right’ to be human. Decius staunchly believed that they should be treated just like everyone else, they’re human. He never saw them as anything other than equals. When somebody informed him of their sexuality or gender he always saw it as unimportant. Just as if somebody told him that they liked salad cream on their cheese sandwich instead of mayonnaise. Xern reminded him of his father when he looked into his eyes. The only person he ever truly hated. Decius had to use all his restraint to stop himself putting a bullet through Xern’s pale forehead at this disgusting behaviour.

“Listen” commanded Decius, causing an eyebrow to raise itself on Xern’s brow, he held the rank equivalent of a Major in the Gryph Army, and Decius was merely a Private. He could tell Xern rarely ever took a telling off from many people and to be spoke to like this from just a Private was almost a shock to his system. “Listen” he said again carefully, “let them be. They’re not hurting anybody. The only pain caused here, is from you and that anger that you hold as a front.” Decius held out his hands slowly as if awaiting for Xern to relinquish his weapon to him. Then Byryl’s lover spoke up. “We have a pass, you idiot.”

The aimed pistol lowered a millimetre.

‘A pass?’ thought Decius, ‘A pass to love the same gender?’ no matter how he approached the thought, he hated the idea. Yes, it meant that lovers could be together and be happy, as long as they passed a test? Like unable to drive a car without passing a test first, this enraged Decius “I see. Show me!” barked Xern, his weapon raised again. Byryl’s lover, Bene, produced a card from below his blue dirty overalls attached to a delicate silver looking chain around his neck. Xern quickly grabbed it and read the contents.

His hatred immediately evaporated. “Oh, I am sorry. Please do, forgive.” he said shaking the pairs hands and handing back the card. Decius couldn’t help himself. “What?!” he yelled, his frustrations spilling forth. Lyra put her hand on his shoulder to calm him as the human in the welding gear approached and removed the helmet. “Lyra?” came a shocked voice, “Sandra!” cried Lyra and the two embraced each other. “What’s going on here? What did I miss? Is everything alright?” she asked catching the shaking, angry form of Decius and the two hugging Gryph. Seeing the two males kiss, she quickly looked to Xern with concern, who simply smiled, “original female assignment.” he said

The confusion was clear in Lyra and Decius, so Sandra explained. “It is illegal to be homosexual in Gryph society, but get this, if they have a sex change, even if it’s to the same sex, it’s not classed as homosexuality and is legal. Yes took me a while to get my head around too.”

“So...” began Decius, “If a female is attracted to a male, and the male is attracted to males, the female can get a sex change to be male, and then the two males can legally be together?”

“Yep.”

“Huh... I still think that is wrong. They should be allowed to be together regardless of gender and sexuality.”

Sandra nodded in agreement as Xern turned his back on the group and proceeded to unpack the metal container and carry the tinned goods into the belly of the midnight blue troop carrier.

“Yep. Aliens” Sandra said finally exhaling.

Quick footsteps could be heard echo through the vast hanger bay, from the darkness, Decius peered into the void to find five dark figures advancing towards them two ahead of the other three. They quickly became illuminated by flashes from their muzzles and bullets whizzed past, embedding themselves into the hull of the troop carrier, the midnight blue paint breaking off in little circles with a black centre. Decius was taken off his feet as one lucky, or well aimed shot found a new home in his chest. He hit the ground with bent knees pointing into the air before they dropped to the metal grated floor, and Lyra began scrambling, forcing the bleeding man against the metal of the hull, leaving a crimson trail from where he landed.

Sandra fired four shots and pulled Byryl and Bene back, Bene tripping over in the confusion, but steadying himself as he broke for cover behind one of the stacked containers, projectiles dinging against the protective barrier, Byryl cried out for his husband as Sandra pulled his head below the metal as a bullet impacted where his head and just been. Xern emptied his weapon into the small crowd of advancing enemies, knocking one to the floor, but as he forced another clip of ammunition into the base of his rifle, the figure jumped back to its feet and unleashed a fresh brutal onslaught of fire.

Soon, the three figures took up positions and ceased their advance, taking heat as they reloaded. In the midst of the bullets finding new homes, a roar erupted and ending the gunfire. Sandra, Bene, Xern, Byryl and Sykra looked on in horror, Lyra put pressure on Decius’s entry wound, His blue breast armour had been removed and rested next to his bleeding body to allow her to do her work. Which incidentally would save her life.

The roar, followed by a blue figure soaring through the air, hitting the hull of the carrier above Lyra’s head and landing on top of her as she worked on Decius. The dark figures turned their attention to the red creature that now chased a fleeing brown tattered figure, “Zhou, the fucker’s back!” called the figure on the right, the centre figure removed his black helmet and the hatred was evident and if his eyes could cut flesh, the creature would have been stricken down to bare bone.

The red thing gained on the running ragged prey, almost close enough to swallow him whole. “Hey! Lobster!” spat the central figure as he tossed metal cylinders towards it and firing a few rounds at the bright red target. This brought the monsters attention away from its desired meal. With another chorus roar, it charged into the trio, tossing two aside that had come forward, and clamping its hideous jaw at the waist of Zhou, his upper body disappeared into the mouth of the creature. His legs went limp as they fell to the floor and out flowed the life blood that disappeared into the grated floor. Zhou’s skinny torso was last seen as a glimpse as the creature flung its enormous head back and forced him further down its gullet and swallowed. The two dark figures picked themselves up, both seeing their commanders dead legs spread on the floor, they fled the hanger.

Lyra quickly rolled the stunned form of Solomon off her and began flashing a light in to his eyes, checking his pupils, they seemed fine. But he didn’t respond cognitively. A bullet smacked into the hull as Xern moved forward to get a better aim and was swiped at by the creatures tail causing him to misfire. Lyra swore loudly and in her frustration slapped Solomon across the face as hard as she could. Niceties had gone, she needed him up and about for this fight. He blinked in return and kissed her tense lips with such passion, Lyra forgot about the ensuing battle and horror that got closer and closer with each passing second.

Xern was insulted by the action taken against him and planted his knife in the creatures tail, forcing enough strength into the blow it pierced the deck plating, keeping the creature pinned, only able to move the length of its tail in any direction, Xern smiled and spat at the creature, who in turn battered him with a back hand swipe, forcing him back, where he tripped over the corpse legs of Zhou, and he caught the light reflected off a metal cylinder attached to a leg pouch, still fixed to the limp leg. “Huh, wonder what this does.” asked Xern aloud and pulled the pin from atop the cylinder and tossed it to the creature. Unable to flee, the red abomination was caught in a gust of blue flame that erupted a pathetic chorus scream from the creature which got quieter as the seconds passed before all the group could hear was the crackling of the burning red flesh.

The creatures body finally stopped twitching. The flesh charred and in some areas melted to show bone. Solomon sat with Decius as his blood flow slowed with Lyra’s magical hands doing their business, Sandra hugged Solomon, as Byryl continued to fret and molly coddle Bene, checking him over for any breaks of the skin or bruises. Sykra went over to Xern and helped him pack the troop carrier up. Patting the hull, Solomon sent a dull echo through the hanger bay. “Ah. Solomon. Nice of you to join us.” came the ever familiar wonderful soothing voice of Eve. He could have cried with joy. Eve explained that she had informed Sandra and Decius of the damaged troop carrier needing only minor work to be airborne, and when they arrived she transferred herself to the trooper carrier with their assistance, she explained that this was why she only had limited extensions to help Solomon. She had arranged the transfer because her main systems were failing and she would undoubtedly die if this was not done.

“It’s good to have you back Eve.”

“It’s good to be back, Solomon. Heads up, I have a large group of unidentified contacts approaching from the southern corridor.”

Lights, damaged by the entrance of the red creature flickered and died in the distance, soon the beams of hope that illuminated the hanger, died row, by row until only the area immediately surrounding the group of survivors was the only beacon of life left. “I can only keep the closest lights active, my apologies Solomon.” said Eve.

Then came the hissing. Wet leathery tongues, forcing breaths through needle sharp teeth. The halo surrounding the survivors lit them up so well that it might as well have rang the dinner bell for the Banshee’s as they invaded the hanger bay. Xern looked out at the Banshee menace, their contorted skin caught the light and he saw hundreds of glistening orbs that were the creatures eyes erupt through the darkness. Sandra removed the welders helmet from her head and her limp fingers gave in to the half containers weight as the shock of fear sunk in. Byryl and Bene backed away together, before quickly fleeing into the belly of the troop carrier. Sykra loaded his last magazine into his pistol with a heavy heart. Lyra propped Decius against a container and loaded his weapon for him “You are still useful, don’t go down without a fight.” she whispered in his ear. The young soldier was terrified. Theo and Solomon both swore and then took aim, carefully selecting their targets, and put their rifles on single shot.

The very air stood still for a moment. The survivors held their breath and the horde advancing through the darkness ceased to hiss. The silence was broken by the crack of a bullet casing exploding as the firing pin sent the round on its way. The flash from Solomon’s muzzle began the onslaught. Soon, all were firing into the crowd. Dozens of Banshee’s came into vision as their guns lit up the shadows. Shrieks followed as banshee after banshee fell. Solomon emptied his magazine and slapped a new one home and fired again, Theo cursed his limitations of ammunition has he emptied his rifle and pulled his pistol from its holster.

Over four hundred rounds were expelled from the group’s weapons in less than three minutes, and then Solomon fired his last round and threw his pistol into the advancing crowd in frustration. Xern was next to be out of ammo and with an alien curse he threw his final grenade into the crowd, which cleared a rather spectacular hole in the horde. Soon, the Banshee’s stopped coming. All that remained in the hanger bay was a very large number of twitching corpses. The closest a banshee got to the group was one meter from the containers that they hid behind.

Solomon needed to know the situation.

“Eve, report.”

“Solomon, out of ammo. Lyra, out of ammo. Sandra out of ammo. Decius, thirty one rounds, rifle. Two rounds pistol. Counterpart Theo, out of ammo. Counterpart Xern, out of ammo. Counterpart Sykra, six rounds, pistol. Counterpart Bene, unarmed. Counterpart Byryl unarmed. Ammunition reserves, none.” Eve reeled off the information as clearly as she could. Sandra thought for a moment whilst the group despaired. “Eve, what about the shuttle?” there was a pause. “Unfortunately I am unable to read the shuttle’s status. It is out of commission.” came Eve with a sad defeated tone.

The group shared glances between one and other in silence as they each savoured their last moments in their own ways. As a group, they had thirty nine bullets. Decius pulled himself to his feet with a groan, which he met with embarrassment all the eyes that jumped to him. “Sir, here.” he said with a wince, presenting his loaded weapon to him. But Solomon didn’t take it. He instantly became distracted by the approaching hissing.

“Eve. Overload the troop carriers fuel cells. Lets take these monsters with us.”

“Negative, Captain. Troop carrier is offline and I am unable to access anything within. However, you can perform this action manually.”

Sandra volunteered to go inside and manually overload the fuel cells, killing them all and everything within the one kilometre radius. As Sandra scampered into the mouth of the troop carriers rear holding ramp, the Banshee’s began their horde advance. Decius made shot after shot, killing a single Banshee with each. Various colour skinned Banshee’s approached, some wearing the armour of the human settlers, some of the Gryph and many of the pirates and civilian population.

Eve explained in mass detail what Sandra had to do. Who kept asking Eve to repeat the last sentence, to describe which switch to flick, which panel to open, which wire to cross with which wire. The gunfire soon ceased. She nodded to herself, knowing thirty nine bullets had been expelled, and thirty nine Banshee had been exterminated. But now, it was her job to kill the rest. “Now, join the red cut wire, to the green wire with a yellow stripe. Be careful not to join it to the yellow wire with a green stripe, as this will cause a shock to surge through you.” Sandra, in a panic from the shouts and calls from outside, paid only half of the attention she needed. And joined the red cable to the yellow and green striped wire. With an almighty bang, her body was flung across the decking of the troop carrier and finally came to rest at the base of the Command terminal.

The noise alerting Solomon and drew him to see what was happening. He found Sandra’s unmoving form slumped against the command console at the other side, he checked her neck. He found a pulse.

Moving her slightly rougher than he should have to lay her in the recovery position, almost smiling to himself at the stupidity of the act, considering they were dead in the next five minutes. Looking below the console as he lowered her head, he saw why Eve couldn’t do anything with the shuttle. The frame had been bent and the damaged metal shorted out against the electrics of the console, blowing the fuses. Turning his head, he had an idea. Byryl came running in, looking for a more ignorant place to spend his last moments. He and Bene had hidden in the cockpit of the carrier and could see their doom approach. “Give me your shoe.” commanded Solomon as he held out a hand behind his kneeling form. Byryl froze to see another living person, and stupidly continued to do nothing. Solomon needing things done quicker, simply forced Byryl to the floor by placing a leg behind his, and pushing an arm against his chest.

Once he removed the shoe, then forced it in between the metal casing and the circuit board. Placed his knife in the safely glove of the shoe and forced the two fighting sides apart. This reset the thermal fuses inside the command console. Almost instantly sparking in to life.

“Eve, report on the shuttle.”

“I have full readings, Solomon. Guns are prepared. Turning now.”

A volley exploded from the fore turrets on the carrier. Eagerly followed by the atop mounted turrets. Bullets designed to pierce heavily armoured tanks tore through a Banshee, through the one behind it, and the other three behind that, and then through a deck and a half of plating.

“Engines are firing up. All who desire to live, I do strongly suggest you climb aboard.” came Eve’s voice over the speakers outside the carrier.

This sparked a cheer of fear and relief, as Lyra, Decius, Xern and Sykra ran so fast in to the belly of the carrier they might as well have simply just appeared. Solomon hit the ramp raising button and the red light flashed. The door came up. Slowly. The guns kept the Banshee’s back. Targetting only the closest, it allowed the ramp to close without any interference from sharp teeth or claws. The engines roared and the belly scraped against the decking of The Evergreen, turning to the external passage, the engines screamed with excitement as they jetted the carrier through the security sealed blast doors, that Eve easily opened with her clearance.

The journey up, was turbulent to say the least. Eve piloted the vessel up, higher and higher. The eight survivors, now Sandra had woken back up and was placed in her restraints, strapped in their chairs, shared cheers and clapping. Solomon laughed, “Eve, what’s this shuttle called? I love this thing!”

“This carrier has the designation ‘Cariad’.”

Solomon smiled at himself and shook his head. Ironic, for something that was designed to carry and destroy. Eve continued to bring the carrier into the void of space. They were safe. Well, safe from the Banshee at least.

“Eve, make sure there are none of those things holding on to the hull, please. I saw a movie like that once. It didn’t end well... neither did the movie franchise, if I’m honest.” he said jokingly. Eve, simply re-entered the atmosphere of Merriden IV, flame licked the hull as it burned everything it could, and then once satisfied, She brought the carrier back into the coldness of space. “Course plotted for Earth, Refuge will be offered to non-human survivors.” said Eve in her now restored clear and calming tones.

“What does cariad mean?”, asked Sykra who sat next to Solomon, who in turn gazed into Lyras ever changing eyes, now supporting a hazel green. “It’s from an old language, back on Earth, it’s Welsh.” he smiled at Lyra, “It means ‘Love’”

- The End -

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