Free The Athena Operation by Dalton Cortner

shocked he was still alive. He raised his pistol to Ret's skull. The seythra was about to fire when he was blasted with a spray of bullets. Ret jerked around to see Drever leaning out of the side of the Confederate ship, shotgun in hand.
    “Let’s go!” Drever shouted over the roar of the spacecraft.
    Ret's clutched his upper left chest area where he took the shot. It was bleeding, but he could work through it. He took one last glance at the body of the young girl. As he got to his feet and picked up his rifle, he could only imagine the pain and horror of her last day alive. She had been suffering far too long, and Ret had let that fucking seythra kill her. Ret boarded the ship and left the girl behind, but he could not stop thinking about her.

 
    CHAPTER 13: PRECARIOUS
    OCURRENCES
     
     
     
     
    Seraph had limited experience piloting a vehicle, but he managed to get the ship out of Vidron painlessly. Gunshots rattled the sides of the ship, but the ship was up and out within a matter of moments. Seraph flipped the ship to auto-pilot. He stood and exhaled deeply. He had no idea what they were going to do. Back on Vidron, the Confederate Chamber was likely either dead or close to it, and the majority of the Confederate Military forces had been destroyed. What scattered soldiers had survived were out of contact, on their own, and doomed to die.
    Seraph ran a hand through his hair. It was caked with sweat, blood, and grime. Sitting down had made him realize how tired he was. He shook his head. He wouldn’t allow himself to entertain thoughts of things like sleep. Not now.
    Seraph moved back to the main room of the ship. It was small and cramped. Blinking buttons and switches lined the wall, holding the life of the ship in firm order. Gunsmoke lingered in the air, a faint reminder that even though they were out of the battle, nothing was over.
    Seraph took a seat. He fought his exhaustion and looked around the ship. Ret was in one corner, Drever in another. It took Seraph’s tired brain a moment to realize that someone was missing.
    He shot a glance at Ret “Where’s-”
    Ret shook his head. “I’m sorry, Seraph. I’m really fucking sorry. This seythra jumped me, he pinned me down, shot me and . . . he fuckin’ shot her.” A few tears escaped Ret’s eyes and began streaming down his face. He whimpered as he shifted his position, clutching his wound.
    Seraph remained silent for a moment. His fist clenched. He wanted to scream, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He had to maintain himself, despite how hard it was. He slumped onto the ground and closed his eyes. He wanted to maul every fucking seythra he could get his hands on. He wanted to cut off their limbs. He wanted to burn them alive.
    This wasn't just about the girl. It was about all the innocents he’d seen shot down in the streets. Something had happened to the seythra. Somehow, their hunger for power had grown so strong that they were willing to slaughter civilians to secure it. All Seraph could think was why now? He couldn’t figure out the catalyst that had set this nightmare in motion.
    He knew that if he was plunged into another fight anytime soon, he was going to act out of rage and end up doing something incredibly stupid, probably getting himself killed. Though his death would hardly be significant among the number of dead.
    Ret cleared his throat. “We gotta figure something out. Either go back down there and try to get to the Confederate Chamber, or . . .”
    “No, to fucking hell with that. We’re getting out of here. We need to get somewhere secluded, start a camp, get settled in. Fucking Torca if I have to.” Drever let the majority of his gear spill onto the table.
    “The military is what’s going to help us win this war. Not running and fucking hiding!” Ret yelled.
    “You just don’t get it, kid!” Drever shouted back. “This ain’t about winning or losing! The seythra got more fuckin’ numbers than the confederates. We are