Blood Impulse

Part 12.3 - SEETHING

Homebound Sector, Haven System, Warhawk 343

Anabelle only looked weaker without the warmth of sunlight on her pale skin. She looked gaunt, almost skeletal where she sat beside him. Ron's hope was fading with the heat friction of the upper atmosphere, which was nearly gone as the stars began to brighten around their Warhawk.

He looked to Amelia. She looked pale and shaken. Whether that was uncertainty or vertigo, Ron was unsure. "Why did these people come after you, Amelia?" Could they truly be trusted? Allowing strangers to treat Anabelle was a risk. There were things in these worlds far worse than death.

"I..." Amelia stared out the window, a horrified gasp escaping her. The violet haze of the atmosphere had finally cleared, but the Flagship Olympia sat directly in their path. "No," she breathed. This was all just a trick. It was nothing but a ploy to get her aboard Reeter's ship.

The Colonel in the copilot's seat chortled, "Honestly, why the hell did they paint her gray?" The ash color was so uneventfully plain, even with the addition of the shimmering white stripes. "She was almost a decent looking ship." Almost.

"Colonel," the female Marine next to Ron said, "this is why the Singularity doesn't like you. You pay too much attention to her competition."

Zarrey struggled to turn and look over the back of his seat, "Shut up, Cadet." He never said the Olympia was pretty. "The Singularity's a great deal more impressive. And I wasn't the one that put two bullets in the Admiral's chest. So, if there's anyone on this ship our lovely battleship doesn't like, it's going to be you."

"That was twelve months ago!" The Marine protested. "And the Admiral walked it off. He's fine."

"That doesn't change the fact you shot him. Twice." Zarrey had never been more impressed with the Admiral's patience. Despite that arguably rocky start, Cadet Fay had become one of the most steadfastly loyal members of the crew.

Amelia paid no attention to their little debate. She was distracted by the void-like shadow that was sliding into view behind the Olympia. It was seething, the scars on the hull impossible to hide.

"The Singularity." Only one ship could possibly be that unnatural wraith. Ron had never seen her during his tour on the Olympia, but he was well aware of the ship's legend. Allegedly, she possessed the emotion that her commander had lost.

Seeing her now, Ron halfway believed it. The Singularity possessed an unnatural inheritance, a discomforting way of forcing the space around her to conform in ugly ways. She controlled the battlefields of war without firing a shot or uttering a word.

Hours had passed since her reappearance, but the Haven System's other occupants continued going great distances to avoid crossing the dreadnaught's path. The only vessel that did not shy away was the Flagship Olympia, but even the grand flagship was dwarfed by the Bloody Singularity's aberrant aura of relentless embitterment.

A small fleck against the mass of its carrier, the Warhawk landed with a metallic clang. Amelia felt her palms start to sweat. Was this really a good idea? Her father had never spoken well of the Admiral. She already owed him for this rescue, but he was little more than a stranger to her.

There was a gentle lurch, and a part of the landing bay lowered itself away, taking them into the ship. The internal structure went by: angular metal structures and cross braces that were decorated by aging yellow lights and steaming vents. It was still, but dynamic, silent, yet attesting to strength.