SABERS: Shadows of Ravena

The cockpit of the Thunderbird hummed with the vibrations of the straining engines as it soared through the night sky. The distant glow of Seretine's burning walls flickered on the horizon, a grim reminder of the urgency of the mission. Inside the cockpit, Icarus exhaled heavily as she ripped off her helmet, her sweat-soaked hair clinging to her forehead.

"Seven trips," she muttered to herself, her voice tinged with exhaustion and irritation. "Seven damn trips, and they're still not done."

She wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, grimacing as her fingers grazed a sore spot from where the helmet had pressed into her head. Tossing the helmet onto the copilot's seat, she tightened her grip on the controls, her knuckles white against the worn leather.

The Thunderbird shuddered slightly as it hit a patch of turbulence, and she cursed under her breath, her eyes flicking over the glowing indicators on the console. Everything was still running, but the ship was pushing its limits. She knew it. She felt it in the way the engines vibrated just a little too hard, the way the controls resisted just a little more with each turn.

"This better be the last one," she grumbled, leaning forward to adjust a switch. "Because if I make an eighth trip tonight, I might just drop the throttle and let this bird take me wherever the hell it wants."

The faint hum of the comms filled the silence, but no voices came through. She was alone for now, streaking through the darkness toward the city's failing defenses. The flames below painted her cockpit in hues of orange and red, the heat almost palpable even from this distance.

She glanced at the rear display, where the cargo bay was packed with supplies for the next evacuation wave. It was heavier than the last run, and she could feel the difference in how the Thunderbird handled.

"Nothing like flying a brick through a warzone," she muttered, rolling her neck to ease the tension building in her shoulders. "Real glamorous, Icarus."

The horizon tilted slightly as she adjusted her course, the distant fires of Seretine growing closer. Her heart sank at the sight—whole districts had already fallen, the Extractants' relentless advance swallowing everything in their path. She thought of the civilians still trapped inside, the ones counting on her and the other pilots to get them out.

"Just keep it together," she said softly to herself, her voice steadier now. "One trip at a time."

The wind howled outside the cockpit as the Thunderbird raced forward, cutting through the darkness like a blade. Icarus reached for her helmet again, her fingers brushing against its edge. She hesitated, then set it back down, choosing to feel the air on her face for a few more moments before plunging into the chaos once more.

"Seventh trip," she said with a bitter smile. "Lucky number seven, right?"

The comms crackled suddenly, breaking the steady rhythm of her flight. A voice came through, frantic and breathless, slicing through the white noise.

"Icarus! What the hell are you doing? Why are you coming back into the city?"

Icarus furrowed her brow, flipping the comms switch. "What kind of question is that?" she snapped, her voice laced with irritation and fatigue. "I'm making another run—people are still trapped. I'm not leaving them!"

"No!" the voice cut her off, more panicked now. "All birds were ordered out an hour ago. Nyrexes appeared in the area—we've lost three ships already!"

The blood drained from her face. She tightened her grip on the yoke, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. Her heart began to race.

"Nyrexes?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible. Her mind flashed to the reports—the massive, agile flying predators that could tear through metal like paper. She swallowed hard.

"Icarus, you need to turn around now!" the voice continued, the urgency unmistakable.

But it was too late.

The faint, piercing shriek of a Nyrex reached her ears just as a shadow passed over the cockpit. Her breath hitched as she jerked her head upward, catching sight of a massive silhouette against the moonlit sky.

"Damn it!" she hissed, yanking the controls to the side in an attempt to evade.

The beast swooped down with terrifying speed, its tattered wings slicing through the air like razors. Before she could react, one of its talons raked across the Thunderbird's left engine. The sound was deafening—metal screeching against metal, followed by a fiery explosion as the already-straining engine gave way.

The Thunderbird lurched violently, the force of the impact throwing Icarus against her harness. Sparks flew across the cockpit as warning lights flashed red, alarms screaming in her ears.

"Engine two is gone!" she shouted into the comms, her voice cracking. She wrestled with the controls, trying to stabilize the craft as it began to tilt dangerously to one side.

"Get out of there, Icarus!" the voice yelled, but it was barely audible over the chaos.

The Nyrex circled back, its glowing eyes fixed on the faltering ship like a predator stalking its wounded prey. Icarus gritted her teeth, her fingers flying over the console as she rerouted power to the remaining thrusters.

"You want me, you bastard? Come and get me," she muttered, her voice shaking with adrenaline.

The Thunderbird sputtered, flames trailing from the damaged wing as it limped toward the edge of the city. The Nyrex let out another screech, diving toward her with lethal intent.

Icarus's jaw tightened as she gripped the controls, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't going down without a fight.

The cockpit was a cacophony of alarms, flashing lights, and the groan of metal straining under immense pressure. Icarus's hands moved with desperate precision, flipping a series of switches as the Thunderbird bucked violently beneath her.

"Anti-air systems online," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible over the wailing alarms. She slammed her hand against a lever, rerouting power to the remaining engines, the ship trembling in protest as it struggled to stay aloft.

The holographic targeting system flared to life on her HUD, locking onto the circling Nyrex. The creature's massive wings flapped rhythmically, its glowing eyes fixed on her like a hunter sizing up its wounded prey.

"Alright, you ugly bastard," she growled, her fingers hovering over the trigger. "Let's see how you like this."

She squeezed the trigger, and the ship's anti-air guns roared to life. Streams of tracer rounds cut through the night, the air vibrating with their relentless barrage. The rounds slammed into the Nyrex's left wing, tearing through its membranous structure. The creature screeched in fury, banking hard to evade the onslaught.

"Not so fast," she hissed, her hands jerking the controls to keep the guns trained on the beast. The targeting system tracked its every move, and another volley ripped through the air, grazing its side.

But the Thunderbird was faltering. The damage to the left engine had already crippled its stability, and the additional strain of rerouted power was pushing the remaining thrusters to their limits.

Another alarm blared—a deep, ominous tone that sent a chill down her spine. Her HUD lit up with a critical warning: ENGINE 1 FAILURE IMMINENT.

"No, no, no!" she shouted, frantically adjusting the power distribution. But it was no use.

A sickening boom reverberated through the ship as the second engine gave out, a fiery explosion ripping through the wing. The Thunderbird lurched violently, tilting to one side as it began to lose altitude.

"I can't hold it!" she yelled, her voice cracking as she fought the controls with everything she had. The weight of the heavily loaded ship became unbearable, dragging it downward like a stone.

The Nyrex, sensing its advantage, circled back with a deafening screech, its talons glinting in the faint light as it dove toward the crippled craft. Icarus's heart pounded as she yanked the yoke, trying to angle the ship for one last shot.

"Come on, you piece of junk!" she screamed, slamming her fist against the console. The anti-air guns fired another desperate volley, clipping the Nyrex's tail. The beast howled in pain but refused to retreat, its glowing eyes filled with relentless fury.

The ground rushed closer, the once-distant city lights now an ominous blur beneath her. Icarus clenched her teeth, her hands trembling as the ship's systems failed one by one. The Thunderbird shuddered violently, the groan of metal and the wail of alarms merging into a symphony of disaster.

"I'm not done yet," she whispered, her voice trembling but defiant as she braced herself for the inevitable.

The ground rushed toward her, a blur of flames and darkness, as the Thunderbird gave one final, agonizing shudder. Icarus barely registered the impact when the ship slammed into the earth like a falling meteor, the force of the collision jolting her violently against her restraints. Sparks erupted from the console, the sharp scent of burning metal and fuel filling the cockpit.

Her vision blurred as the ship began to slide, its weight gouging deep trenches into the ground. The screech of metal against stone was deafening, the entire frame of the Thunderbird groaning as it was torn apart piece by piece. Each jolt sent her head snapping forward and back, the world around her reduced to disorienting flashes of orange flames, sparks, and shadows.

She struggled to stay conscious, her vision flickering as the ship's violent descent continued. Flashes of debris flew past the cracked canopy—twisted metal, shattered glass, and the faint, horrifying glow of the city's burning ruins beyond. Each heartbeat felt like an eternity as the Thunderbird plowed forward, scattering dirt and rubble in its wake.

Finally, with a bone-rattling lurch, the ship came to a grinding halt. The sudden stillness was deafening, the roar of the crash replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the crackle of flames licking at the ship's hull.

Icarus groaned, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. The restraints bit into her shoulders, and the cockpit swayed faintly as her body registered the trauma of the crash. She reached up instinctively, her fingers brushing against something wet and warm. She winced as she pulled her hand back, staring at the dark smear of blood glistening against her skin.

Her head throbbed, and the world around her tilted precariously. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision, but the edges of her sight were fading into darkness. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the console, forcing herself to sit up.

Through the cracked canopy, a flickering scene unfolded before her. Her blurred vision struggled to focus, but she could make out the faint glow of the fires reflected off a massive, membranous form.

Her breath hitched as the Nyrex landed with a sickening thud directly in front of her ship.

The beast unfolded itself slowly, its towering form illuminated by the faint, flickering flames. Its tattered wings spread wide, framing its grotesque silhouette against the night sky. The glow from its eyes, cold and predatory, pierced through the haze of smoke and debris, locking onto the cockpit with unnerving precision.

Icarus's blood ran cold as she stared at the creature through her flickering vision. The Nyrex's scaled body shifted and coiled, its talons scraping against the ground with a bone-chilling screech. Its head tilted slightly, almost curiously, as it studied her through the cracked glass.

She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, each thud growing weaker as the edges of her consciousness slipped further away. Her fingers twitched toward the controls, but the faint flicker of the ship's failing power systems mocked her. There was nothing left to fight with.

The Nyrex took a slow, deliberate step forward, its glowing eyes narrowing. Icarus's breath came in shallow gasps, her vision dimming as the creature loomed closer. She wanted to scream, to move, to do anything—but her body refused to obey.

Her head slumped against the harness as the warm trickle of blood from her temple continued to drip down her cheek. In the fading moments before the darkness consumed her, the last thing she saw was the Nyrex's talons raising toward the shattered remains of the canopy.