[Blackbird]
She closed down the IRC program and sat staring at the wall, nursing a glass of rotgut. To the left, a bank of monitors and tvs played out the news that mages existed to the Masses. To the right, streams of data poured in on the bases reporting their damage, on weather patterns, and on one screen the list of dead Void Engineers she hadn't been fast enough to save.
The idea was sound, the dimension was far enough down the storm hadn't touched it but the shock had driven some of them mad and the pain killed others. No matter how many she'd saved it hadn't been enough and the warning hadn't reached some bases at all. The same storm that had taken her mother had come back for her and took instead fine upright boys who only wanted to make the world a better safer place.
Her knuckles were white on the glass as it was filled again. They said the ghosts had been consumed by Oblivion. That hadn't stopped the dead from haunting her dreams or whispering the five hours they were in the realm called the "Shadowlands." Each moment a torture, so close to being free, close to simply being one of the dead instead of the tormented. But duty kept her moving and the transition back had killed more and burned out more.
And now Henry was dead. Connie had killed him. Or maybe Nico or Chels. It wasn't clear who to believe anymore. Deep inside the ache of loss pulsed, pounding over and over in her mind. First the ship she'd murdered to live. Then the faith in the Union, the only place she'd ever called home. Then John and Chandra. Then more Void Engineers who couldn't escape the Union. The Union began to consume itself, Ouroboros like, until there would be Nothing left and one more piece of the dream was gone.
Mina said she'd died and comeback. Why did some people come back? Why was it those who she cared for most stayed dead? Without thought, driven by the pain to find somewhere the living couldn't stir up more of the past and cause more pain, she reached out and keyed in a combination on a small device. The Storm caused her no pain this time and after blackness that was deeper than her beloved space, she was in a land of greys. The hot brittle wind blew through her as she curled up under the decaying hulk of a tree.
The voices of the dead began, carried in the wind. Asking over and over "Why? Why? why?"
And Blackbird wept body wracking sobs into her arms, listening to the dead whisper, until she had nothing left and even the loss of her dreams and being alone didn't hurt anymore.
The idea was sound, the dimension was far enough down the storm hadn't touched it but the shock had driven some of them mad and the pain killed others. No matter how many she'd saved it hadn't been enough and the warning hadn't reached some bases at all. The same storm that had taken her mother had come back for her and took instead fine upright boys who only wanted to make the world a better safer place.
Her knuckles were white on the glass as it was filled again. They said the ghosts had been consumed by Oblivion. That hadn't stopped the dead from haunting her dreams or whispering the five hours they were in the realm called the "Shadowlands." Each moment a torture, so close to being free, close to simply being one of the dead instead of the tormented. But duty kept her moving and the transition back had killed more and burned out more.
And now Henry was dead. Connie had killed him. Or maybe Nico or Chels. It wasn't clear who to believe anymore. Deep inside the ache of loss pulsed, pounding over and over in her mind. First the ship she'd murdered to live. Then the faith in the Union, the only place she'd ever called home. Then John and Chandra. Then more Void Engineers who couldn't escape the Union. The Union began to consume itself, Ouroboros like, until there would be Nothing left and one more piece of the dream was gone.
Mina said she'd died and comeback. Why did some people come back? Why was it those who she cared for most stayed dead? Without thought, driven by the pain to find somewhere the living couldn't stir up more of the past and cause more pain, she reached out and keyed in a combination on a small device. The Storm caused her no pain this time and after blackness that was deeper than her beloved space, she was in a land of greys. The hot brittle wind blew through her as she curled up under the decaying hulk of a tree.
The voices of the dead began, carried in the wind. Asking over and over "Why? Why? why?"
And Blackbird wept body wracking sobs into her arms, listening to the dead whisper, until she had nothing left and even the loss of her dreams and being alone didn't hurt anymore.