Coldstar Battlesuit Fourteen sent out an emergency broadcast just as the tide receded. Its location was at the furthest reaches beyond the shore.

 

I’d never been out there when all six moons were below the horizon. As I flew alongside Coldstar Two, I could already see the tips of the ancient latticework in the exposed seabed. We were told it belonged to an ancient civilization. Now it was just an overgrown ruin crawling with pink kelp.

 

“It’s dangerous as hell out there,” said my section leader, Coldstar Two, across our comms as we flew towards the rescue beacon. “Eighty-Seven, do you have any idea why he’d be foraging that far out alone?”

 

“I mean, I trained with him. He was always a little ballsy, going off by himself and all. He must have been after something–”

 

“But why was he flying alone? We’re trained not to do that.”

 

We were trained to do a lot of things in these battlesuits. With an array of flak bursters, ion rifles, and a Gatling gun, there were lots of ways to screw up. Shooting and flying were unnatural and took months to get used to; I still wasn’t comfortable maneuvering on the ground while firing. Although I did remember Coldstar Fourteen being more confident than he should have been.

 

“Guess he thought he didn’t need a wingman,” I said.

 

“And look where that got him,” said Coldstar Two.

 

I could see the glint of the forward observer drones in the distance, reflecting the red sun across the white sky. Steam rose from the kelped latticework, creating a daytime mist like burning smoke. But in my overlay, the beacon was deep below the circling drones.

 

Both of us slowed our acceleration, then hovered above the beach, kicking up sand that swirled below our ion engines. The pink flowers of the steel structure bloomed in the hot sun, producing purple pollen that mixed with the steam before us. The smell of baked seaweed made it into my suit.

 

“Have you been down in the lattice before?” I asked.

 

“Once. And it didn’t go well,” said Coldstar Two.

 

“What’s down there?”

 

“Lots of creatures that need to be shot. Let’s go.”

 

Coldstar Two went first, and I followed at a low hover with my ion rifles charged and ready. Petals singed and burned behind our engines as we slowly pushed into an open hallway within the network of steel.

 

We hadn’t gone more than two hundred meters before my radar detected movement.

 

“Contact! Bogies above!” yelled Coldstar Two.

 

There was a flash of blue electricity. I aimed my weapons upward and saw dozens of giant, slimy, legged electric eels. They snaked around the steel scaffolding, then opened their long mouths, producing a wretched scream lined with jagged teeth.

 

We both pumped hot plasma up into them. Searing hot flesh and high-pitched screams followed, then bits of body parts rained down with the petals. Through the white lattice forest, I saw more blue electricity. It was surrounding Coldstar Fourteen's beacon.

 

“Press forward, afterburners on, let's go!” yelled Coldstar Two.

 

I hit my acceleration throttle, firing as I went. We bounded against the steel, flying through growing hordes of giant electric eels. They kept their distance at first, but as we moved closer to Fourteen, they began to close in.

 

“Six hundred meters, hurry–” said Coldstar Two, but he stopped as an eel crashed into him, taking him to the ground. It tried to dig its giant black claws into his chassis. I hit the afterburner to move toward the ground, pulled out my short blade, and did a flyby strike, taking off the head of the eel. It splattered us both with glowing blue blood.

 

Coldstar Two recovered, and we were less than three hundred meters away from the rescue beacon. But my vision was filled with blue electricity mixing and swirling above and around our heads.

 

We were surrounded.

 

“Fight our way out. Fire!” said Coldstar Two.

 

We went back-to-back, and I fired a set of flak bursts with Coldstar Two. It stopped a wave of eels and pushed the horde back. We walked, firing and bursting to keep the creatures at bay.

 

After walking backward, I saw the homing beacon notification. In between firing, I turned around and looked for where it was supposed to be.

 

The remnants of Coldstar Fourteen were scattered across the ground, littered with blue blood, oil, and sticky pink flowers.

 

“Grab his pod!” yelled Coldstar Two.

 

I disengaged and leapt toward the ruined battlesuit. I saw the black escape pod protruding from the ripped armor. I thrust my hand into the receiving port to extract it, then connected it to the suit.

 

The pilot was still alive.

 

“I got you, hang tight,” I said to Fourteen. There was no response, but I attached him to the belly of my suit and turned my guns up just in time to blast an eel right through the mouth.

 

Coldstar Two skidded next to me, then also pointed his blasters up.

 

“Shoot up, clear the way, and blast on overdrive up. Ready? Go!”

 

We both fired everything we had, clearing latticework and eels until we could see the rays of the red sun. When we had an opening, we both fired our thrusters at full, flying through kelp and limbs until only the white sky filled my vision. We kept gaining altitude, ridding us of blood and petals as we made our way back to the shoreline.

 

“Good work, Eighty-Seven. Is he alive?”

 

“Barely,” I said as we headed toward home. My hands were still shaking with adrenaline, but I did what I could to start life support systems to keep him level before we made it back to Base.

 

This was my first rescue mission, which became one of many. What I’ve learned is this: I’m scared to fly into the unknown, no matter what weapons I have with me.