Armed with only a pair of gloves and a trash bag, Wally set out into the aftermath to do the only thing he how to do. He made his way into the streets, which was now hidden under a coat of debris, and began steadily collecting the garbage. Plunging himself into his daily routine was the only comfort Wally could find in this time of trauma. He worked in a trance like state, until something unusual caught his attention. “Oh..?”
Buzz had just fallen into bed, day clothes still on, and closed his eyes. It wasn’t exactly nighttime, but after being awake 20 hours, he was ready to crash. Barely, 20 seconds had passed before the communicator on his cybernetic starting vibrating from an incoming call. It was coming from the mission control center so Buzz sat up and answered immediately.
“Light speaking. Go.”
“Get the hell over here. We’ve got incoming meteoroids. A shit ton.”
Buzz shot out of bed, immediately putting on a pair of shoes and sprinting out the door. “T minus how long?”
“Less than 10 minutes.”
“Are you serious?” Buzz screamed into his arm as he hopped into a small cart that was used to maneuver around the farm. It would be fast enough to at least get him to a shuttle that could take him to the military base. “Why am I only now hearing about this?” There was silence on the other end. Buzz continued, “Contact every Ranger, on or off duty. Hell, anyone that can fly or shoot, get them to the hanger.”
When Buzz arrived at the hanger, there were streams of officers and Rangers pouring in with him. Buzz shouted orders, directing Rangers and other experienced pilots to one-man gunners and people with less experience to two- and three-man stations. They just needed as much firepower out there as possible.
Fastening himself into his own ship, Buzz finally took a moment to catch his damn breath. He wasn’t nervous, per say. After all, the Space Rangers had been training for these kinds of missions for years. Still, there was this weight on his chest. All the lives in this station are hinged on whether I can do the job I told them I’d be able to do. Buzz’s moved his ship to be released from the docking bay. Men, women, and children, Buzz. Do not. Choke. But it wasn’t choking specifically that he was worried about. Master Sergeant Light was terrified of blood on his hands again.
The robotic voice came through the cockpit. “Release.”
The instant Buzz was sent into space, he saw the gravity of the situation at hand. Thousands of bouldery debris, all of which were coming for the space station. Light launched into action as one threatened to zoom past him and to the ISS Aeterno. He was one with his ship, a fact aided by the connection of his mechanical arm to the weaponry and steering mechanisms.
One. Two. Three.......Ten. Eleven. Shit shit shit. Even as Buzz consistently blasted meteoroids, there were another hundred ready to take its place. Briefly, he looked around and see the other ships, shooting tirelessly at the assailing rocks, but meteoroids had already come in contact with the now waning shields of the station. Buzz had no idea how fortified the station’s shields were, but he knew that if even 1/2 of these meteoroids got past them, it wouldn’t be good. Not at all.
The line of communication between the cockpits was flooded with pilots yelling out coordinates for meteoroids that had blown past them or shattered and continued their course. Even as he focused on his own targets, Buzz had to coordinate with the Rangers and help instruct those pilots who weren’t as familiar with the techniques and equipment. However, as Buzz was in the midst of firing on a meteoroid head-on, he heard one mission control officer loud and clear, “The station’s shields are down! We’re taking real hits down here!” The meteoroid Buzz was working on exploded into infinitely smaller pieces, one of which hurtled towards Buzz’s ship.
Buzz was a fast pilot. He was amazing, graceful, a leader. But at that moment, thinking of the people on the station that were being bombarded and hurt, he paused. However, a hesitating pilot with a semi-bummy cybernetic is not fast enough to avoid a piece of the meteoroid, and it grazed the glass of Buzz’s ship, sending little cracks across the screen. It did not break, Buzz could tell since he was not launched out into the ether. The other voices in the cockpit were silenced and the only a mission control officer spoke.
“Master Sergeant Light, you’ve taken a hit. Come in immediately for repairs.”
Buzz, however, had already moved onto his next target. “Negative, sir,” he said, zooming towards another meteoroid heading to the station “Put me back in communications.”
“Light,” the officer said more sternly this time. “with all due respect, I’m urging you to abort before you sustain more damage due to pressure.”
Buzz could see the cracks in his glass extending but he could also see the number of meteoroids he was taking down. “With all due respect, I’m not doing that,” Buzz asserted. “These men and women out here are my responsibility and I’m not abandoning them especially not when I’m in the goddamn zone.” There was no response for a while, which was becoming a pattern in Buzz’s communications for the day.
Two. Three. Four. Fi- “Master Sergeant Light, I have orders to remotely commandeer your ship and bring you back to the hanger.”
“Override it!” Buzz shouted back. He hadn’t noticed until the voice spoke again that the lights indicating his ship’s stability were blaring and the cracks were virtually across the entirety of his screen.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Wait!” Buzz was able to take down one more meteoroid before he felt his ship being drawn forward towards the station. He rotated the cybernetic in its holder to find that he no longer had control over his steering. He’d been pulled out the game. The port into the hanger opened for barely a second to let Buzz inside and once the aircraft hit the floor the glass screen of Buzz’s ship shattered. However, Buzz wasn’t thinking about the glass on him or his own hyperventilation. He was only looking for another ship to climb into. The hanger was shaking and Buzz could see toppled vehicles and lockers. Still, he wobbled out of his cockpit and tumbled out. The drop to the floor was harsh without a ladder but his ears were already ringing and adrenaline was keeping his body was feeling the brunt of his pain.
There were two sergeants in the hanger that helped him up. Mission control was apparently operating from within a bunker at this point, and these two were there to escort Buzz to that facility. However, Buzz pulled against them, trying to get to a T-76 which had fallen to its side. “Let go of me! I have to get back out there. I am repsonsible for the lives of those people in ships, and it is my job to protect the people inside this station.”
“Those ships aren’t in any working condition, sir. There’s nothing you can do in a ship right now. We need you with mission control manning the waves and directing your people from there.” There was a series of crashes, and Buzz’s mind flashed to his family in the Second Ring. Were they okay? How bad were the damages to the Rings?
There’s nothing you can do.
The more Buzz struggled, the longer he’d be keeping these two people from the safety of a bunker. Even then, the thought of how many meteoroids Buzz could be shooting down - meteoroids that were now be reeking havoc on innocent citizens - panged in the back of the Ranger’s mind. “Sir, we have to move now,” one sergeant repeated.
You hesitated, and now there’s nothing you can do to fix it.
Buzz stopped resisting and allowed himself to be taken to the bunker, though he collapsed about halfway there.
