Something Good

[Toaster]

Percival lowered his right arm to his side, dropping his pistol to the floor with a loud clatter. With the other hand, he reached for the fresh wound in his chest, pressing tightly against it. Blood ran out between his fingers.

Before him, Galahad lay sprawled across the deck. He stirred slowly, groaning in pain, as he clutched with both hands at his abdomen.

Down the Avenger’s ramp ran Cara, looking wild-eyed around the docking bay. Her gaze landed on Galahad and, from there, shot over to Percival. Seeing him still standing, she hurried over to him.

“Come on!” She shouted, throwing his right arm around her shoulder to support him. “Let’s go!”

Percival nodded faintly and mustered what strength he had left to stumble into the ship. He dropped into the pilot’s seat and took a ragged breath, inspecting the instruments before him. The engines were already roaring, ready to lift the fighter off the deck.

“Strap in,” he coughed. Behind him, Cara buckled herself into the copilot’s seat. As he placed his right hand on the stick and the left on the throttle, he noticed darkness creeping into the edge of his vision. He nudged the throttle, and, with a shudder, the craft leapt off the deck and towards the docking bay’s airlock.

“Flick the blue switch,” he muttered through labored breaths. He could sense the young woman behind him searching the panels before her and, with a whispered cheer, find the control. Through the cockpit’s canopy, they could make out a slight shimmer run across the length of the ship as the cloaking device came online.

Percival gunned the ship out of the airlock and into open space. Immediately, bolts of energy shot past them as Chesapeake’s defenses opened fire on them.

Come on, he thought, pleading with the ship to disappear from view and sensors. A blast of plasma struck the starboard wing, shaking the ship violently. With fingers slippery with blood, Percival struggled to keep the stick in place, aiming the fighter towards the trade lane that would take them far away from here.

Then, the hostile fire ceased. A tingling feeling coursed through Percival’s body, as though his limbs had gone numb and immediately reawakened, as the cloaking field expanded around the ship, making it disappear into the void of space.

He managed to crack a smile, promptly causing blood to run down his chin. Then he coughed, darkness encroaching ever further on his view. His head slumped against the seat’s headrest and he fought for breath.

He could hear Cara unlatch her seatbelt and leap out of her chair. She hurried to his side, tugging at his shoulders to keep him awake.

With what little strength he had left, he turned his head to face her. Her bright, blue eyes were full of worry. Her mouth was moving, shouting, but he could not hear what she was saying.

The ship, now on autopilot, approached the trade lane rings, a ring of energy waiting to take them into deep space at speeds faster than light.

Percival’s hands fell away from the instruments.

He took a final breath, still smiling at the young woman at his side.

“Finally,” he whispered. “I did something good.”

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Olivia Sable