Dusk Moon

Gideon

The muffled wind rushed past him, his armored suit sealing him from the environment. The veiling of the Scabbard antigrav bike was active, with them flying high enough to not disturb the ash below within their air-wake. He focused on his internal map, seeing Baxter was keeping up, the plume of ash trailing the only tell. On a dead moon of constantly blowing ash, Baxter’s trace would fit right in.

Security sure is light for having just escaped. Unless their presence is just those Rumblers and a few drones. Or they didn’t believe the ship was manned. Of course, they could check for life-signs; we have that technology ourselves. Do they only have a handful of satellite drones with those walking cities? This is complete bullshit.

He sighed in the coms, his logic having given up the ghost on trying to piece together the shambled scenario he found himself in.

Nothing makes sense.

His first correct conclusion was a grain of truth atop a mountain of mysteries. But it did little to assist the now.

Focus. Find the Decima. Work on a plan of rescue, escape the moon and go home. So easy, Baxter could do it.

“Gid, are we there yet?” Baxter’s trepid voice added to the muffled strobing wind.

Gideon checked his internal map, seeing he was several miles off. All directions led to the northernmost Rumbler directly ahead. A monolith of death awaited them.

You better not be inside that thing.

He was already in the bargaining stage. Next came depression. And then acceptance. He needed to get out quickly before those feelings made themselves at home in his heart.

What did you do with your life? Oh, hello Saint Peter, I don’t know, got trapped on a Dusk moon, befriended inanimate objects to pass the time as I slowly drifted in madness and then complete starvation. Shindow made a shrine for my bones. It was a touching ceremony. Baxter keeps sneaking them away to bury them, but it’s all good; I didn’t expect much from Adonai anyways, but He did give me a cool new tattoo. Although, I’m trying not to think too hard on how the dog outlived me.

“Good Gideon, you appear troubled,” Pat’s voice broke his spiraling train of thought, speaking through the Scabbard.

“I mean, yeah, I guess? Trapped on a dusk moon with limited supplies, surrounded by some of the creepiest looking vessels known to man, rushing on a potential suicide mission on a plume’s fume’s chance in hell of succeeding-”

Gideon braked the Scabbard, lurching forward as he spotted movement in the sky.

“Shit. Drones. Baxter, stay still!”

He spotted several of the sinister satellites traveling in their general direction. The cloud of ash Baxter trailed drifted off as the dog laid flat.

“Let’s beat them!” he barked.

“Please don’t bark at them,” Gideon retorted, his pulse spiking upon spotting the Dusk drones.

A sighing whine emitted over the comms before going silent.

“Can’t I-”

“-No, you can’t shoot at them either,” Gideon interrupted, guessing his thoughts.

He could hear the dog’s ears drooping.

“But why? They are bad guys,” Baxter asked with a cock of his head.

“Good Baxter, it is best to let them pass, we have little understanding of their numbers. Ours is purely a scouting mission,” Steak explained over comms.

The Scabbard had halted, floating gently in the air, veiled from prying eyes. Noise levels were dampened, making them all but invisible. Unless they impacted with the oncoming patrol. The Dusk drones flowed past, giving Gideon a brief respite as he forced himself to breathe again. The strobing thrum of their engines set him on edge. His pulse quickened, at their disquieting forms up close. Within minutes, the Dusk had passed on into the horizon, leaving them unmolested.

Gideon let out a gentle sigh, the stress of the encounter frazzling him.

“Good Gideon, shall we continue?” Pat asked over comms. Its voice sounded different, but he had little time to investigate.

Focus.

“Let’s go,” he ordered curtly.

Get in, get out. Keep it simple.

He revved the vehicle, continuing the journey with Baxter in tow beneath. The signal had led them into the horizon. Towards a Rumbler. Towards their doom.

Don’t think that.

It can’t be there. There isn’t enough room for a sloop classed ship. And yet…

The tracker guided him towards the oncoming Rumbler on the horizon.

He traveled for a time, trying to think up a better plan, but finding none. He halted in place, the trip was finished. Time was up. Gideon hovered precariously close to the Rumbler. He could feel the strong wind currents from the skyscraper legs, threatening to blow him off course if Steak and Pat weren’t assisting. He pulled the pulse rifle from the Scabbard side-holster; it would all be for naught if the Rumbler spotted the light-show from his QSD. Baxter sat atop the dune, lying down to watch.

Hope this works.

He gently gripped the rifle, aiming the underslung tracker-launcher. He felt himself trembling at floating so close to the grand terror of the Dusk moon. He swallowed his parched throat, his body threatening to sweat out every ounce of liquid. He aimed high, knowing that even though he was close, and the Rumbler occupied his entire field of view, he was still a few miles off. The steel hull of its main body traveled as far as he could see, up into the overcast sky.

Not possible. Not possible.

None of what he was looking felt real; his mind began to disconnect from the situation. He had to remind himself that if some ground infantry took out enough legs, it would topple like anything else. It had the size and presence; that was it.

“Good Gideon, whenever you are prepared,” Steak announced over comms.

“Right,” Gideon replied as he breathed in, “tag it and rush back to the Ferrum.”

He aimed high and fire, thumping an arcing round as he pulled the front grip trigger of the attachment. The rifle shuddered as the projectile flew high before tumbling into the Rumbler’s leg. Gideon holstered the rifle, giving the tracker a final passing glance. He stopped at the sight of movement and lights catching his eye. He zoomed his HUD in, seeing the hull around the tracker coalescing. The metal moved, flowing like a liquid. Gideon sucked in air and held it.

The metal was alive.

“Oh,” Gideon stated calmly, “Shit.”

A jutting arm quickly gripped the tracker as several metallic eye stalks formed, inspecting the device. He glanced higher up the mountain to see the vessel-sized glowing LED eye staring down in his general direction from the mid-hull of the Rumbler. He now realized how much trouble he was in. It wasn’t as static of a structure as he anticipated.

An ear-shattering thrumming horn bellowed from the monstrous structure, His helm deafening noise. He felt the air vibrate, the Scabbard shifting slightly in the air. There was only one instinct he felt.

Run.

He swerved the bike around and punched the antigrav nodes.

“Baxter! Baxter, run!”

“Oh boy! Going fast!” the dog barked over comms as he leaped to his feet, dashing down the dune.

That’s Excertius’ language- the Rumbler just spoke! What. The. Hell!?

Gideon felt his hair and skin crackling with static. The veiling the Scabbard enjoyed began to pixelate and vanish, leaving him completely exposed. He revved the bike, channeling his panic into the throttle.

“Good Gideon, the Rumbler has deployed a veil-disrupting field,” Pat announced calmly.

“I can see that! We need to lose sight of the Rumbler now!” Gideon replied, his voice cracking.

“Understood, projecting new trajectory,” Steak declared.

Dozen of ship sized glowing red eyes traveled along the Rumbler’s hull. It was wide awake.

Gideon followed the projected line, running diagonally to the Ferrum enough that they wouldn’t give it away by fleeing back to base.

“Shindow! They got us! We’re going to shake them- dammit, hold down the base!” Gideon spoke, the nervous edge betraying the situation.

Shindow began to reply, “Gideon, what the hell is going on-”

“No time! We’re bugging out away from the Ferrum. We’ll make our way back once we shake them!” Gideon announced, interrupting her.

I hope.

Another trumpeting bassy blast echoed from what felt like one end of the moon to the other.

“That can’t be your language, can it?” Gideon asked, glancing back to see a small cloud of Dusk satellites beginning to rush out from the Rumbler.

“It is,” Steak replied with a pause.

“What’s it saying?” Gideon inquired further, keeping to the route.

“Intruder,” Pat replied.

Another alert blasted out from the Rumbler as if affirming Pat’s statement.

How did the Dusk get Excertius? Oh right- Kraken nebula.

He saw more satellites dead ahead. Four of them in a star formation. He unholstered the pulse rifle, keeping it close.

“Does this thing have weapons?” Gideon asked hurriedly, aiming one-handed at the top Dusk vessel.

“Affirmative. Prepping pulse cannons,” Steak announced.

Glowing blue light blossomed from both wings, revealing attached swiveling pulse cannons, the larger cousins to his rifle. The Dusk sentinels broke rank first, attempting to dodge as Gideon let loose a salvo. The screech-crack and shriek-boom of the armaments roared out, striking true on two of the satellites. The rounds tore through the armor plating, blasting holes out the backside. They did something unexpected; they simply tumbled away, staying aloft as they spun with their momentum as the antigrav nodes kept running.

Gideon blinked dumbfounded at the unusual response. He expected detonations or crashing.

Well, that was anticlimactic.

The third Dusk drone spun as it recovered from the glancing hits, chunks of the silvered ebony armor missing. Gideon rushed by, with only one satellite keeping pace. The untouched drone drifted just underneath the wings, several hundred feet away, out of the line of sight of the top wing guns. Gideon stood and pivoted to the left, letting Steak fly as he turned his torso to get a shot. And then something impacted the Dusk satellite.

The Dusk drone was struck by what off from the dunes to his right, the cannon blast of a roar strobing out. The satellite dropped from the sky, the exit wound had almost it tore in two.

Gideon felt elated at the third Dusk casualty. The final Dusk drone lagged too far behind, trailing back to the cloud of chasing sentinels.

“Baxter, nice shot! It was trying to distract us!”

“I did not shoot... but I will take this praise,” Baxter replied dubiously.

Gideon glanced at the map in his mind, seeing Baxter just behind on the ground below. The angle was all wrong. There was a third party.

What the hell?

There was another roaring snap as another object passed overhead from the right. Whatever was in the dunes also saw him as a target.

“Engaging,” Pat stated blankly.

The cannon swiveled to the dunes, getting the relative position of where the shot project came from. The shriek-roar of the gun thundered out, sending plumes of ash skyward as it peppered the target with thirty-six round bursts.

And then the Rumbler moved. Gideon felt the pressure against his back before the deafening impact rang out, even his helm was unable to filter out all the noise. Gideon glanced down, seeing Baxter trailing behind. A single step and the Rumbler had almost made up the difference. All of its legs began its marching shuffle towards the lead limb, the traveling wall of destruction kicking up a wave of ash dust.

“Brace for turbulence,” Steak relayed.

It wasn’t for the antigrav nodes, but for the passenger. Gideon held on, the Scabbard being buffeted by the dust storm. He slowed, unable to keep a firm grip at such speeds. Another cracking roar echoed out, an object sheared through the nose of the Scabbard and sent it into a spin. Gideon grit his teeth, unable to let out the shriek he was containing. Alarms blared in the suit. Whatever that third party was, it was no friend to either side or its first shot was friendly fire. And then Gideon felt himself falling, being flung by the centrifugal force. He released the howl of fear he was holding onto, falling into the dark buffeting wall of ash dust. The antigrav safety node built into the suit activated, slowing his descent as he spun from the torrent. He hugged himself, bracing for the slow impact with the ground. Another tectonic blow thundered out as the Rumbler took another series of steps, displacing the air and sending him into a helpless spin. He touched down, face-planting to the ground in a flurry of ash dust. He lay stunned for a moment, shock setting in at what had just happened. His suit feedback showed negligible damage. He glanced around, seeing Baxter galloping through the ash dust as if it was deep snow.

That’s why he slowed down. The tremor vibrations make the ash into an almost liquid substance!

“Steak! Pat!-” Gideon began to shout, witnessing the Scabbard gently spinning off to the ground. The comms only buzzed back at him.

Another series of shudders ran through the moon as the Rumbler moved. Gideon could see the rising dark shadow through the ash storm, a monolith of doom. Gideon felt the ground reverberate and with that, felt himself sinking. What was solid ground had quickly become quicksand due to vibrations, his idea that infantry had a chance against this monster was a vanity, snuffed out completely. He breathed in instinctively as his head went under, he thrashed his arms to stay afloat, trying to swim on the moon’s surface. He sunk, his suit weighing him down as he barely kept his helmet above the surface.

“No-no-no! Shit, Ffff-!”

Gideon’s cries were cut off as he felt a sudden compression against his chest, squeezing him quiet. The vibrations quickly ceased, his body going still as the ash settled. He hyperventilated, struggling to breathe as he felt his life flashing before his eyes. His time traveling to Karmmrak. The year-long venture on base. The time Baxter stole his shoe and hid it somewhere in the facility. Seeing the Decima the first time. His struggle with identity, family, and God. The Dusk. The bizarre dreams and the failed flight. The coiling tightness of the ash compressed against his lungs. He struggled, encased up to his mid helmet in ash. His lone right hand peeked from the ash-dust. He wiggled his fingers as he tried to free himself, hurriedly rocking side to side. He felt a heavy pressure against his body. His vision swam with black spots.

“Gid-e-on! I am coming to get you, Gid!” Baxter bayed as he tromped through the ash, freeing himself.

“Baxter!” Gideon cried out with a cough, unable to think of anything else to say, his panic from falling and being buried alive rushing out in unintelligible cries.

The power-armored dog dug through the ash, kicking up a cloud as he furiously worked on digging him out. Baxter gently gripped down on his hand with the armor’s deactivated energized teeth, gently pulling him as he began to wiggle free. The dog pivoted the suit to use his shoulders as a fulcrum, slowly raising his head higher like a crane to free Gideon. The winds whipped around the moon, a storm of ash buffeted them. Gideon pulled himself free, seeing stars and feeling the instant relief at being dug free.

“Steak? Pat! Come in!” Gideon rasped over comms.

He heard static, the comms ruined by the strange dust storm.

Just like the overcast. Shit.

The torrent of ash screeched against the suit, roaring in his ears. Baxter gently gripped Gideon’s hand, keeping together as they navigated the storm. He glanced back, seeing the outline structure of the Rumbler. It was within several thousand feet. He could see movement all around. Glimpses of Dusk satellites.

And something else.

“Follow me, Gid! We will find Steak- not food steak but Steak-Steak!” Baxter chuffed over comms.

A cannon blast thundered out and a Dusk satellite drone dropped just next to him, crashing into the dust, torn inside out from a massive slug round, half of its remaining glowing eye going dead.

“Jesus Christ!” Gideon bellowed, falling back on his rear at the sudden jump. Baxter let out a yelping bark, crouching down at the sudden danger and noise.

Gideon unsteadily to his feet, the shock of everything weighing him down. He spotted a dark silhouette in the storm. It stood at six and a half feet tall, sporting two long and wide membranous limbs, advancing with an unnatural gait. It slowly walked to them, unfazed by the howling wind. His stomach dropped at seeing what appeared to be a Dusk nightmare.

“Bad guys!” Baxter snarled. Blue light flashed along his shoulders, materializing two mounted pulse rifles. Gideon put his hand in front of the dog, halting him.

“The Dusk! Baxter, keep back!” Gideon ordered as he reached for his own gun.

He paused, realizing it was missing; lost when the Scabbard was struck. The dark being progressed, unintimidated by Baxter’s armored form. Blue coiling shot out from the haze, wrapping around the dark being. It resisted, branching its massive limbs revealing they were in fact wings.

What the hell is this thing? Just like those damn dreams...

With hooked clawed hands, it gripped the energy coiling and tugged, sending a Dusk drone hurtling towards it. The being struck upward with its wing, bisecting the drone from nose to tail with a mighty feral bellow. The drone crashed into the being with a thump, kicking up more dust to obscure their view. Gideon sprinted with a gasp, taking the initiative the distraction afforded to rush by the rubble with Baxter in the lead. More loud thumping and crashing rang out. He glanced back to see more Dusk drones were crashing themselves into the being, piling themselves atop it. The rubble mound grew higher with each crashed drone.

“What. The. Hell,” Gideon muttered.

A dark shadow eclipsed over him, over the moon itself. The sickly light went dim. He glanced up, unable to see the source. The wind roared, the ash dust whipped around him, scraping and rattling against his suit. He suspected the Primetech paint and designs would be nearly buffed off by now.

The storm is raging harder than ever. Just from the damn Rumbler.

And then madness broke out. The sky dazzled with blue energy beams, scorching the skies. Gideon ducked down instinctively, the roaring of laser beams crackling overhead. A beam struck near the earth, sending a plume of ash skyward. Gideon could feel the heat from the shot, implying it was far more powerful than a simple militarized laser. He moved forward, only to halt as a laser beam struck the ground just in front of him, guiding straight to him.

“Move- move!” Gideon shrieked, running to dodge to traveling beam. Baxter kept up, tail flicking tensely. The laser would have bisected him at best, melt him to instant slag at worse. He sprinted along, dodging another laser blast.

Who are they shooting at?

A wall of lasers struck the ground in front of him, stopping him dead. A thump crack echoed out, a new weapon being fired. Gideon danced to the side, heading the other direction, away from the incoming deathly energy barrier. There he spotted the remains of the Scabbard, embedded into the ash.

“Excertius! Steak- Pat!” He cried out, rushing to the downed craft.

A voice spoke out in the storm, “good Gideon, we are well,” Steak began as he de-veiled, “We were using the rubble as bait.”

Steak gripped his Mars antimaterial rifle.

Railgun. Anti-armor. Explosive ordanance. Dusk Drones step aside.

Another thump crack rang out. Pat. Steak swiveled his eye towards the conflict, telegraphing to him where the Drone was.

Pat de-veiled, sporting its own smoking antimaterial rifle.

Pat announced as it hefted its weapon, “Scratch target.”

Gideon surveyed the terrain, unable to view farther than a dozen feet.

“I can’t see shit- we need to get out of this storm!” Gideon bellowed over the howling wind.

Steak touched the Scabbard’s hull and it broke down in blue light.

“We still have coordinates locked, please accompany us,” Pat suggested.

He still felt disquieted by its staring red eye, but it wasn’t the worst thing he’d seen this week. Excertius led the way through the blurry haze, shouldering their rifles. Baxter kept pace, head swiveling at the din of noise behind them. Gideon used this time to materialize another pulse rifle with a scope, an anti-material under-launcher, and grips.

A cannon blast whistled by, with Gideon briefly blacking out from the pressure. He came to on his knees, mind disassociating from the combat.

Shit!

Steak and Pat swiveled their torsos, returning fire at the unknown target.

“Engaging!” Steak announced. Their rifles rang out akin to the impact of a bomb blast.

“Bad guys!” Baxter snarled as he turned, firing into the storm.

Gideon got to his feet, swiveling to see the winged figure quickly advancing on them at a sprint. It had survived being crushed and shot. Steak fired, the round thumping against the being, it spun and stumbled to the ash face first. It lept back to its feet, only for a shot fired by Pat to take it in the chest, flinging it backward.

“We need to move,” Steak announced as he began to sprint, spun his rifle upside down, then flipped over his head, resting it against his back. He aimed at the hip and fired, the thump crack of the gun roaring out. It always looked strange to see Excertius shooting backward as it ran; the omni ball-jointed limbs allowed for universal flexibility. Baxter barked irreconcilably, firing a screech crack volley into the haze before turning back and scurrying away.

Gideon shook from the stunned shock of the near miss of whatever that cannon blast was, running behind the other Excertius.

“Agent sighted!” Steak declared as he swiveled his eye back and forth.

Gideon spotted another lone figure, standing seven feet tall. Shrouded in those black robes he knew too well. The ones who broke humanity’s back at Kraken Nebula. The ones who broke the Federacy, who kidnapped thousands. The ones that invaded Karmmrak akin to a massive beast crushing a child’s sandcastle. The ones who spelled humanity’s doom.

The Dusk.

Gideon’s heart rate spiked, his breath became shallow, and adrenaline shot at seeing his nemesis. He gave it no time to act, snapping his rifle and ripping loose a volley.

“Dusk bastard!” Gideon shouted, the screech crack of his rifle drowning out his swearing.

As if sensing his intent, the Dusk simply dropped through the ground, into the dust, vanishing from sight.

From reality.

All Gideon managed to do was waste ammo and send more plumes of ash into the rushing storm. He flinched at another blue laser scorching along the ground to his right. The ash storm was beginning to clear, the Dusk drones were becoming visible. He spotted the winged being fighting dozens of robed Dusk and drones. He glanced up, his heart stopping at the sight. The leg of the Rumbler was held aloft above them, sitting as a motionless asteroid, ready to impact.

“Shit!” Gideon swore, turning and sprinting. Steak, Pat, and Baxter silently agreed with his sentiment, keeping escort.

Stims deployed

He took a hit of stims, feeling his fatigue and weariness fade. His body surged with new energy as he increased his pace. The storm had cleared completely, the comms and HUD coming back again.

“Gideon! Come in! Oh- where is he!?”

The sudden voice in the channel drove him further. They were going to make it.

“Shindow! Come in! It’s all gone to shit!” Gideon rasped over comms.

“Gideon! Oh god- there you are! What happened?!” Shindow replied, worry evident in her voice.

“Good Shindow, sending datalink,” Steak announced.

There was a brief pause as Shindow processed the moments before the fight.

“My god…” the AI responded.

They left the shadow of the Rumbler foot, welcomed by the overcast sky. He turned back for a brief second, seeing the underside of the Rumbler’s foot glowing red like a sun. The sky was dense with Dusk drones, flowing out from under the Rumbler. He silently turned and ran. He couldn’t think, only run.

And then the moon itself shook.

He felt the heat through the suit first. And then the bomb blast that carried him away.

Warning impact detect!

Dangerous heat and pressure detected!

Muscle damage detected!

Eardrums ruptured!

Bodily trauma detected!

Capsaiphine administered

He smashed to the ground, picked up the by the torrent of wind, his ears bursting from the intensity of the noise. He heard nothing as he felt himself tumbling to a stop along the ashen wasteland. He couldn’t move, only watching the sunbeam intensity of the skyscraper width laser cannon boring into the ground where they were just moments ago. And then the leg dropped. The asteroid impact shuddered the ground. A wall of ash dust collided with them. Gideon felt himself sinking into the vibrating ash.

He was too stunned to think or struggled. His vision obscuring into the ground. Several hands and a doggy mouth gripped him, pulling him free. He couldn’t hear their cries, hear their protests as they dragged him away, willing him to walk. They hauled him into the wastes, the ash storm covering their tracks.

He came to, trying to hold onto the little hope he had.

He had lost it in the storm.