Come

Relax and read a tale. A short tale. A flash fiction tale. This week we go to the stars.

Grating woke me. Heart beating, I sat, held by trembling arms. My head swiveled pinpointing the sound. Was there a hull breach? No, I was dark. Too far from any trade route, debris, hunk of space rocks or anything else. My post’s position had been chosen deliberately, and nine years proved its secrecy.

Even when I’d listen to every other base falling, I’d stayed secret. Waiting.

Waiting for what? I couldn’t recall anymore. Not that there was anywhere to go. Celeste had fallen.

The grating ended with a tremor shuddering its way through the outpost. I guess I wouldn’t make it to ten without being bordered.

I grabbed my pistol and crept toward the airlock. A short jaunt. There wasn’t much station. Less for sensors to detect.

I rounded a corner and could make out forms moving just beyond the lock’s glass, opaque from moisture.

The lock wheeled backward as I rounded the corner. I’d take as many as I could before giving up the Celeste’s secrets.

White body armor gleamed in the lights blinding me as I yanked the pistol back, pointing it up. A Celeste? Impossible. But it was our armor.

“Agent Sinsa.” The voice filtered through the suit’s mic, but I knew it. Sagging, dropped to the deck and gulped air.

The helmet hid him from me, still the touch was familiar. I leaned into it as the hand rested on the side of my head. “Deavon?” I whispered.

“I’ve come for you,” he said, “at last.”

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