An Ending

“Lana Rios has ten minutes to live.”

The ship’s alarm sirens filled the air so densely that she could feel the walls vibrating around her, almost making the warning impossible to hear. Her sense of hearing had already been dulled by a stray shot of searing hot laser fire that grazed her ear just ten minutes before when she’d narrowly escaped the bloodbath that had taken most of the rest of her crew.

“Lana Rios has ten minutes to live,” the voice echoed once more over the ship’s systems, rich with static. Shutting her eyes, Lana noticed how the limp body in her arms felt unusually heavy causing her to struggle as she made her way down the cold, blood-stained corridor of her crew’s beloved ship, Hera’s Revenge. Her back felt like it could snap at any second, especially with the Captain’s weight bearing down upon her.

“Lana Rios has nine minutes to live.”

The warning from her A.I. companion was one she’d requested, but as each minute came to pass, the engineer began to wish she hadn’t. RIZ had a knack for being annoying in even the most desperate of situations.

Lana fell to one knee, her skin damp with sweat and blood. She held onto the unconscious form of her crew’s Captain with one hand and pulled a small communicator from her belt.

“RIZ, that’s enough,” she said. “Unlock every available escape pod and check to see that my path is clear. Then open the deck’s primary console, and get ready for a data transfer.”

“Yes, Lana Rios.”

She tucked the communicator back into her belt and continued down the hallway, passing the lifeless forms of several crewmates, all gunned down by a traitor they’d never expected. Young and steadfast, Gillon Trax had joined the crew less than five years before and had proven to be an incredible strategist in the heat of battle. Trax had been the first intended apprentice for the ship’s former Captain, Teleraan Scarow, and was well on his way toward that same fate.

Lana had almost directly disrupted that path when she brought Rina Dovoro on board after a mission three years back because Dovoro immediately usurped Trax in Teleraan’s favor. Trax’s outrage at Dovoro’s round of promotions from babysitting job to next-in-line for Captain had led to the creation of a spy right under their noses. He’d contacted the Terrajin Police Force months before, when he had first heard that Scarow had been considering Dovoro instead of him. By the time Lana found his messages, the royals of Halsit and the forces on Terrajj had already brought in their combined warships and surrounded Hera’s Revenge, intent on taking out the galaxy’s last known pirate crew. Seconds after the fleet had popped onto their radar, Trax walked onto the main deck with two laser cannons strapped over his shoulder and opened fire on the other members of their crew.

In the end, Lana’s efforts against him meant almost nothing. Their fates were already sealed by then, and she knew that the brutalized ship was one hit away from total destruction. Her life was at the mercy of the deadly Terrajin Hex Cruiser that floated within sight, just beyond the cracked glass windows that lined the ship’s outer halls. Lana had RIZ’s warnings timed to the second against the cruiser’s powerful cannons as they recharged for one massive final blow against the Revenge.

Lana continued stumbling down the hallway, making a sharp turn and heading up a long ramp that led her back to the ship’s main deck. There were the bodies: Minn, the crew’s excitable chef; Xydine, a cat-like Weelakan that served as her assistant mechanic; and the legendary pirate, Teleraan Scarow, her beloved Captain.

This marvel of a Captain once intimidated every single power in the galaxy. Scarow had been her mentor, her savior, and the best pirate she had ever known.

Now his hulking form lay slumped against the ship’s controls.

Now he was just another dead pirate at the end of an era.

Hera’s Revenge was a place that Lana had come to call home. Though the crew rarely spent a long time with one ship, they managed to keep the vessel in perfect condition for an impressive amount of time. Despite that, she had not prepared her heart for what it would feel like to call it her tomb as well.

Lana steadied her walk, dizzy and more leaden by the second. She knelt down, letting Dovoro’s limp form rest against the console’s base. Reaching into the satchel over her shoulder, she pulled out what seemed like an old canister from ancient times of war. Then, she pulled a wire from inside of the casing and plugged it into an open port on the control panel.

“RIZ, how long until those cannons fire?”

“Lana Rios has five minutes to live,” echoed the computer’s digitized voice.

Lana cursed under her breath, before yelling directly at the console. “Then hurry up and transfer yourself into this thing!”

Moments later, the console began beeping, and Lana quickly removed her communicator’s connection.

“You’ll be safe in here,” she whispered aloud. She didn’t care how ridiculous she sounded for speaking so fondly to the advanced program inside of the can. No one around her was alive enough to witness it, anyway.

She hauled Dovoro up again, struggling to keep her balance as she made her way back down the ramp and away from the main deck. If RIZ had missed any of her previous orders before she pulled him out of the ship’s core, it would mean the end for all three of them.

When she finally found the last available pod, she nearly collapsed, partially dropping the Captain in order to slam one hand on the portable activator for the pod’s hatch. Dovoro was tough; she’d survive a little more bruising.

Lana removed her communicator and tossed her supply belt into the pod, then dragged the Captain inside, strapping the smaller woman down into the only available seat. She placed one hand on the frame of the pod’s open door, lifting her communicator to her face.

She switched it on again, and almost as if it were desperate to warn her, RIZ spoke immediately:

“Lana Rios has two minutes to live.”

“I know. I need to leave a message.”

“Lana — ”

“It’s okay, RIZ. Just hurry.”

Lana stepped back, her eyes examining the young woman before her. Dovoro had been the crew’s Captain for all of two hours before everything came crashing down, and no matter what the young pirate might say in protest, Lana couldn’t help but blame herself for what happened.

If this moment was to be the last time she would ever lay eyes on Captain Rina Dovoro (and Lana was certain that it would be), she was going to make it worth every ounce of pain.

RIZ obliged after a tense few beats. “You may begin.”

Lana drew the communicator up and stared into the eye of its camera, forcing a warm smile.

“Hey, Rini,” she said, using that special nickname to keep her tone calm despite the chaos. “I guess this is goodbye. I don’t have much time, but there’s a lot that I need to tell you.”

The floor shook beneath her as the last of their shields finally gave way and disappeared under a barrage of enemy firepower. Smaller crafts were still slowly circling them, taking concentrated potshots at the ship for fun. Lana continued speaking, facing her communicator directly, completely still as the chaos unfolded around her.

The lights cut. Air pressure control began to waver. Years of training helped her mentally count down the seconds, timing her every word so that nothing was wasted. When she finished, she locked RIZ’s physical data chip into the can, threw it into Dovoro’s lap, and used every ounce of the strength she had to smack the large button that sealed the pod’s door.

Lana slumped down against the wall that separated her from the pod docks, listening as the process of escape began. The releases clicked forward, loosening the small vessel from their hold. She could feel the engines kick in from the other side of the wall, hot and suddenly exploding with life. Then the pod shot away into space, carrying Lana’s would-be Captain, her most complicated A.I. project to date, and her very last words.

Lana Rios, a genius engineer, a brilliant tactician, and a life-long space pirate, sat quietly waiting for the destruction of Hera’s Revenge. She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with the scents of smoke and death. It felt familiar, in a way, and, perhaps a little comforting. Even as a child, Lana knew that going down with her crew and ship was a fate that had long been set in stone for her. She was a pirate — she was a Crow. Her grave was always fated to be spread out across particles among the stars mingling with the spirits of her crew. While she robbed Captain Dovoro of that same honor, Lana’s final act of piracy was one that she did not regret.

She let her body relax and listened carefully, just barely able to hear the final shot fire from the massive cannons of the Terrajin Navy cruiser above. As the beam of light bore down from the Terrajin cruiser’s cannons and onto Hera’s Revenge, the pod spun off into space, disappearing from sight beyond the final explosion.