Theta Mists Part Eight

Read Part One

Read Part Two

Read Part Three

Read Part Four

Read Part Five

Read Part Six

Read Part Seven

Part Eight

 

The Reavers closed in, their forms ghosting out of the Naerissyn like wraiths. Cloaked in patchwork armor scavenged from countless raids, their visors glinted faintly in the dim, otherworldly light. Each movement was calculated, predatory, and silent, save for the faint crunch of boots against the coarse ground.

Kael’s hand hovered over her weapon, her breaths shallow and measured. “They’re human,” she whispered, her voice laced with unease. “Maybe we can reason with them.”

“They’re killers,” Orin growled, shifting his weight as he unsheathed his blade with a metallic rasp. His bloodshot eyes narrowed, his posture swaying slightly but poised to strike. “And they bleed like the rest of us.” He smirked, the faint reek of Starfire on his breath. “Though I’m guessin’ they won’t bleed half as pretty as I will.”

Aiden shot him a sharp look. “Stay focused, Orin.”

Garret and Jeph flanked Kael, the twins’ usual banter conspicuously absent. Jeph muttered, “We’re outnumbered. I count fifty at least. No way we walk away from this.”

“Then we don’t walk,” Kael snapped, her voice firm. “We fight.”

The Reavers moved in closer, forming a loose ring, their weapons drawn. Despite their ragged appearance, their coordination spoke of experience—hardened by decades of survival outside the colony’s walls.

Aiden raised his hands, trying to project calm despite the tension that coiled in his chest. “We don’t want trouble,” he said, his voice steady but loud enough to carry.

“Trouble found you,” a voice growled from behind one of the helmets. It was guttural, raw, and full of disdain.

Orin barked a laugh, stepping forward and swaying slightly. “Funny, I was just about to say the same to you. So, who wants to go first? You? Or maybe you, big guy in the back—”

“Orin, shut up,” Kael snapped, but her reprimand was cut short as one of the Reavers raised a blade, its edge glinting ominously in the light of the Naerissyn.

Aiden stepped forward, his heart pounding. “Wait!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. “Just wait!”

The Reavers hesitated, their weapons still raised but their movements stalled.

“What are you trying to pull?” one of them growled.

“No tricks,” Aiden said, his hands still raised. “Just sense. Listen to me—you kill us now, you gain nothing. Maybe you take our weapons, scavenge what we have. But what happens after that?” He gestured toward the direction of the colony. “We’re here because Earth is about to send an army. They’ll come when the Seraphim make their move—an army that will destroy everything. Including you.”

The Reavers shifted uneasily, exchanging glances behind their visors.

“The hell are you talking about?” another one snarled.

Aiden took a cautious step forward. “I’m talking about survival—yours. The colony doesn’t even know you exist, do they? You’ve been living out here in the shadows for decades, hiding in the mists. If Earth’s military comes, they’ll wipe this moon clean. That means the Seraphim, the Keepers, and every last one of you.”

The Reavers didn’t move, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

“Why should we believe you?” the voice of the apparent leader finally spoke.

“Because it’s the truth,” Aiden said, his voice firm. “And because we’re not your enemy. We’re here to stop that from happening—to save this moon, its people, and maybe even you.”

There was a long silence, the kind that stretched taut and brittle, like the moments before a storm. Then, the leader motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Slowly, he reached up and removed his helmet, revealing a face lined with scars and weathered by years in the mists. His eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto Aiden’s.

“You’ve got guts,” he said, his voice gravelly but calm. “I’ll give you that.” He took a step closer, his scarred features illuminated by the faint light of the Naerissyn. “We’ll do more than let you pass.” He looked back at his men. “We’ll join you.”

Kael’s brows shot up. “What?”

The leader smirked, a crooked but genuine expression. “We’ve been fighting to survive out here for decades. If what you’re saying is true, then we have a choice—hide and die when the Earth forces come, or fight with you to stop them. I’d rather die on my feet than cower in these mists.”

Aiden exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, though he remained cautious. “You understand what you’re committing to? This isn’t just about survival. It’s about doing what’s right—for the Seraphim and this moon.”

The leader nodded. “We’re in. But don’t mistake this for trust. You cross us, and we’ll finish what we started tonight.”

Aiden met his gaze, unwavering. “Fair enough.”

The Reavers lowered their weapons fully, the hostility dissipating but the wariness lingering in their eyes. The fragile truce hung in the balance, but for now, it was enough.

 

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            The alien forest stretched on, its bioluminescent flora casting an eerie glow that painted the scene in hues of green and blue. Tendrils of mist curled between the roots of massive trees, their gnarled branches clawing skyward like skeletal hands. The air buzzed faintly, alive with the hum of unseen creatures. Aiden kept his gaze sharp, one hand resting on the hilt of his weapon, though he felt a flicker of reassurance at their newfound alliance with the Reavers.

The group moved in a loose formation, navigating the uneven terrain with the focus of hunters. The Reavers moved silently, their experience in the Naerissyn evident in the way they avoided even the smallest sound.

Aiden walked near the Reaver leader, a man named Taron, whose scarred face bore the weight of decades spent in the mists. He spoke in a gravelly tone that matched the rough edges of his appearance.

“You know,” Taron began, his voice low but carrying easily in the quiet, “back when this moon was first colonized, there were no Reavers. No Keepers either. We were all just miners, breaking our backs under Earth’s orders.”

Aiden glanced at him. “What happened?”

Taron snorted, the sound bitter. “What always happens. Greed. The suits back on Earth didn’t care how many lives this moon chewed up, so long as they got their resources. People started breaking—mentally, physically. Some of us decided we’d had enough and left the dome. Figured if the mists didn’t kill us, at least we’d die free.”

Kael, walking just ahead with Orin and the twins, turned her head slightly to listen.

“The first to leave,” Taron continued, “they were idealists. Believed in something bigger than themselves. The Seraphim—the Tyrsaelith, as they call themselves—they were a big part of that. People saw things out here. Heard whispers in the mists, felt… something. Enough to make ‘em think there was more to this moon than rock and ore.”

“And the Keepers?” Kael asked, her voice clipped but curious.

Taron nodded. “They clung to that belief. Formed their little sanctuaries, started living off the land, protecting the places they thought were sacred.” He shrugged. “But not all of us bought into it. Some of us stopped seeing the Tyrsaelith as gods—or even real, for that matter. It was easier to believe they were myths, stories to keep us looking over our shoulders. We became scavengers, raiders. Took what we needed to survive.”

Garret, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. “And now? You saw them. Changed your tune pretty fast.”

Taron chuckled dryly. “Yeah, well, seeing tends to do that. Guess you could call it fate—or irony. The Reavers and Keepers, back together again after all these years. And it only took an actual miracle to make it happen.”

Kael glanced back at the Reavers trailing behind them, their armor dimly reflecting the bioluminescent glow. “Do you think it’ll last?”

Taron shrugged. “Don’t know. But we’ve got a common enemy now. Sometimes that’s enough.”

The group fell into a tense silence as the forest began to thin. The massive trees gave way to twisted shrubs and jagged rocks, and the air grew colder, harsher. The soft, diffused light of the Naerissyn seemed reluctant to follow them, as if the mists themselves were unwilling to venture into the barren moonscape ahead.

Aiden stopped at the edge of the forest, gazing out at the vast, desolate expanse that stretched toward the colony dome. The landscape was unforgiving, its surface a patchwork of craters and jagged ridges. In the distance, the faint glow of the dome shimmered like a mirage, a stark contrast to the alien beauty of the forest they were leaving behind.

“This is it,” Aiden said quietly.

Kael stepped up beside him, her shoulder drone hovering silently overhead. “No cover out there. We’ll be exposed the whole way.”

“Exposed is an understatement,” Jeph muttered. “If anyone spots us, we’re sitting ducks.”

“We’ve got no choice,” Aiden said, his tone resolute. “We need to reach the colony. Fast.”

Taron crossed his arms, his scarred face unreadable. “If the dome doesn’t know about the Tyrsaelith, then they don’t know about us either. We show up in force, we risk them seeing us as an invasion.”

Kael frowned. “But if we don’t show up at all, they’ll never know the truth.”

Orin, standing off to the side, took a swig from his flask. “Always the same damn choice. Gamble and maybe lose everything, or sit tight and definitely lose everything.” He smirked, though his eyes were hard. “Personally, I like the odds on the gamble.”

Aiden glanced at him, then at Taron. “Fate brought us together, right? Maybe it’s time we stop fighting it.”

The Reaver leader chuckled. “You’ve got a way with words, I’ll give you that.” He turned toward the open expanse, his expression hardening. “Let’s hope they’re enough to get us through this.”

The group moved out, leaving the shelter of the forest behind. As they stepped into the barren moonscape, the enormity of their task weighed on them all. The dome loomed in the distance, a fragile barrier between two worlds, and every step toward it felt like a step closer to destiny.

 

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The dome of the mining colony shimmered on the horizon, a stark, artificial beacon against the barren expanse of Theta-13. Aiden squinted at it, his gut tightening with a familiar pang of homesickness. It wasn’t the dome he missed—it was what lay beyond the stars, back on Earth. His wife’s smile. His daughter’s laugh. The life he was so close to returning to before it all fell apart.

Now, with only miles of alien wilderness separating him from the dome, that life felt further away than ever.

“We can’t just stroll up and ring the bell,” Kael said, breaking the silence as her drone hummed in a lazy circle above them. She tapped at the display on her forearm, her sharp features tight with concentration.

“Right,” Jeph added, nervously adjusting his gear. “We’d be lit up before we got ten steps past the outer perimeter.”

Aiden kept his gaze on the dome. “Then I’ll go alone.”

The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth. He hated the idea, but it made sense. His face was already plastered on wanted bulletins back in the colony. They knew his name, knew the charge. A murderer, they called him. That lie burned in his chest, but if it could buy the others a shot at survival, he’d take it.

Kael turned to him sharply. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day. And considering we’ve been traveling with Reavers, that’s saying something.”

“It’s not dumb,” Aiden countered, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “It’s simple. They want me. I turn myself in, distract them, give you all a chance to figure something out.”

“You’re not a distraction,” Kael snapped. “You’re part of this.”

Aiden’s laugh came out hollow. “I’m only part of this because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don’t make me something I’m not, Kael. I just want to go home.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Even Orin, who rarely passed up the chance to toss in a snarky comment, said nothing.

Before anyone could respond, the ground trembled beneath their feet, faint at first but quickly intensifying. Aiden’s heart sank as Kael’s drone emitted a warning chirp, its sensors detecting movement.

“Something’s coming,” she said grimly.

They turned as one, and the source of the tremors came into view: a column of armored vehicles, flanked by soldiers in black-and-gray exosuits. The glint of weapons caught the pale light of Theta-13’s distant sun, and the low hum of engines filled the air like the growl of an approaching predator.

“The Space Marines,” Garret breathed, his voice tinged with panic.

“Looks like they brought the whole damn arsenal,” Orin muttered, unscrewing the cap of his flask for a quick swig. “Think they’ll let us surrender? Or is that too much to ask?”

Aiden felt a chill creep up his spine as the vehicles drew closer. They weren’t here to negotiate. The soldiers were moving with precision, their formation tight and deliberate.

Kael’s voice cut through his rising dread. “We need to move. Now.”

“No.” Aiden surprised himself with the force of his response. He took a shaky breath and turned to the others. “We can’t outrun them. And if we run, we’re proving we’re guilty of whatever they think we’ve done.”

“They’re not here for a chat, Aiden,” Kael said, her voice tight.

“I know that,” he snapped. “But running isn’t an option. If we stand here—together—they’ll have to at least think twice before pulling the trigger.”

Taron, the Reaver leader, let out a dry chuckle. “You’ve got a death wish, miner.”

“Yeah,” Aiden said quietly, his jaw tightening. “Maybe I do. But I also have a wife and daughter back home. And if I don’t make it back to them, it’s not going to be because I turned tail and ran when it mattered.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, like they belonged to someone braver. Someone who didn’t feel like throwing up at the thought of what was coming.

The Reavers exchanged glances, and Taron gave a slow nod. “You’ve got guts. Fine. We’ll stand.”

Kael sighed, muttering something under her breath as she took her place beside Aiden. “This is a terrible idea,” she said, not looking at him.

“I know,” he replied.

The vehicles rumbled closer, the dust kicked up by their approach swirling in the faint mists that lingered over the moonscape. Aiden’s hands clenched at his sides as the first ranks of soldiers came into clear view, their weapons gleaming and ready.

“This is it,” Kael murmured, her voice barely audible.

Aiden swallowed hard, forcing himself to stand his ground. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a leader. He was just a man trying to survive long enough to get home.

But for now, survival meant facing what was coming, no matter how badly he wanted to run.