Chapter 43

Haledon's heart raced, and his breath quickened as he watched the approaching beasts.

Instinct took over as he muttered in Druidic and slammed his hands to the ground, sending a mossy wave toward the Mecharrion. The rock appeared to crumble as the stone became a thick mat that raced toward the spindly legs of the beasts. Both Mecharrion screeched as the moss climbed their limbs and began to cover their bodies.

In the chaos, Haledon and Gazeas rushed away from the giants. They observed as the moss finally overwhelmed the bodies and trapped them in a dense, unmoving mat.

"Did that...work?" Haledon muttered to himself as he looked at Gazeas.

Opening her mouth to speak, Gazeas was interrupted by a shrill Mecharrion cry that pierced Haledon's ears. The sound caused both him and Gazeas to take another retreating step as they stared at the Mecharrion in horror. The moss quickly withered, and a noxious gas sprayed toward the two Druids.

"Haledon!" Gazeas yelled, tackling him to the floor.

The cloud overwhelmed Haledon and Gazeas, and they both began to cough. As the cloud bypassed Haledon's SOIL, it burned his skin in a painfully familiar sensation. Like with the Mechanite, the vapour was digging deeper into his body. Around the Druids, vines began to coil to conceal them as the cloud's painful burn disappeared. A numbness overtook Haledon's body, and he found himself paralyzed.

Attempting to open his mouth to speak, Haledon's lips remained frozen. Trying to move his head, he discovered he had become trapped where he was planted. And, from there, Haledon watched beyond Gazeas' helmet, his locked gaze on the approaching figures of the two Mecharrion.

Now no longer exposed to biocide, roots and vines raced to cover the weakened SOILs in a protective burl. Roots lashed over the growing mound, quickly blotting out the dim light of the Hilum. The last thing Haledon saw before the thick vines concealed his vision was one of the long arms of the beast slowly melting into the form of a forked Mecharrion gun.

Tensing his body, Haledon prepared for an impact that never came. Frozen in place for what felt like an eternity, he listened to Mecharrion screeches met by an equally spine-chilling but familiar cry.

A thunderous crack echoed through the room as the Mecharrion discharged its gun. But the shot failed to impact the burl, and Haledon felt his body relax.

"Gah," He huffed and coughed, finally catching his breath with an exaggerated gulp. "Gazeas."

Gazeas laughed softly to herself, slowly becoming intermixed with sobs.

"Are you okay?"

"It worked." She cried. "Phytotransformation works against Mecharrion—"

A second thunderous crack echoed, and Haledon felt a heavy force hit him from the front as he and Gazeas were shot through their burl. Hitting the wall, his head cracked against the thick vines, and his world flashed white.

Dazed, the confused Haledon looked down at Gazeas's limp body in his lap and the melon-sized scorch mark against the back of her SOIL.

"Gaz? Gazeas!" He cried out, grabbing her body and looking up for his Guild. "Witch-Hazel!"

Across the room, he watched the two Mecharrion attempting to regain their footing as a pair of tar-soaked Wendigos hacked away at their silver bodies.

"Haledon," He heard the voice of Witch-Hazel whisper into his mind. "Back to the wall."

Haledon obeyed. Sliding himself back against the Hilum foliage, he clutched Gazeas's SOIL. Unable to turn away, he anxiously watched the fight between the Mecharrion and Wendigos. The organic beasts cut into the metal with heavy swings, leaving putrid scars and ripping away silver fluid that splashed to the stone dais. Shrill, metallic cries echoed with each swipe as the putrid tar soaked into the Mecharrion, painting permanent scars across the surface.

A Wendigo yelped as one of the Mecharrion lifted it with a single arm. The beast slammed its metal body to the ground in a familiar motion. A noticeable wave of energy washed over the Wendigo before parts of the creature's sagging flesh blasted away in a sickly green mist. The wounded and exposed Wendigo writhed against the crushing grip, clawing at the ruby eyes as the Mecharrion whined again and slammed itself to the ground. The wendigo disappeared into a cloud of viscera that painted the Hilum steps.

"No!" Haledon cried out as his once foe-turned-saviour fell to the Mecharrion. Looking down at Gazeas, he gently shook her limp body and pleaded with tearful sobs. "Come on, Gaz. Come on..."

Haledon looked back up to see one of the Mecharrion approaching him with its long gun outstretched. He observed as a tiny point of light began to form at the base of the barrel. Electricity crackled within before glowing white-hot. There was a thunderous clap as a heavy hand ripped Haledon through the wall, and the world went dark.

Haledon was suddenly falling through the nutrient lines faster than ever before. Tumbling into the Hypogeal Nexus a moment later, Haledon felt Gazeas' body slip from his hands and collide with the floor before him. He stumbled to his knees, the helmet disappearing from his SOIL and revealing a tear-soaked face looking up at the crowded Nexus.

"Someone help me!" He cried out. "Please!"

A handful of Sequoia Squad Druids rushed through the crowd and knelt beside Gazeas, quickly going to work on her SOIL. Haledon looked over their redwood armour suspiciously, tears streaming down his cheeks as his body began shaking uncontrollably.

A woven hand reached out and pulled Haledon from Gazeas.

"No," He struggled against the grip.

"Haledon," Witch-Hazel said softly, pulling the Druid away. "That was a point-blank shot. The chances—"

Gazeas gasped back to life, her limbs flailing as she sat up straight in an instant. She inhaled and exhaled in frantic, explosive breaths. The helmet quickly disappeared from her head, revealing a blood and sap-soaked face. The white of her right eye was now painted red where blood vessels had ruptured, and spots of thick sap and blood were painted around her mouth and nose.

"Gazeas!" Haledon yelled as he broke from Witch-Hazel's grasp. He fell to his knees, pulling Gazeas into his arms with a tight hug.

"Ahg," Gazeas winced and hissed. "Haledon, ow."

"Hmm," Witch-Hazel remarked as they approached the two and waved the Sequoia Druids to the side. Clapping a hand to her shoulder, they continued. "You Astra Druids are seriously resilient."

Haledon felt his anxious emotions calm as vines from Gazeas' SOIL reached out and tangled with his. A familiar chill of relaxation washed over him as he leaned away from her to examine her face.

"Are you okay?" He asked, lifting a hand to wipe the blood from her chin.

"Yeah, I—uh—" She laughed before wincing. Her body flexed and then relaxed as roots twisted to her neck, blooming with uniquely vibrant pink flowers and thick aloe-like willow leaves. "I didn't know that would work."

"What would work?" Haledon asked as a frantic Sparrow entered the floral divider.

"Good, you've returned." The Primeval Druid spoke immediately and inspected the group before locking her eyes on Haledon. "It appears you have the spud. And did you seal the taproot?"

Haledon's eyes widened, and he felt a sense of panic rise but quickly drop as Gazeas' vines calmed him. He looked back towards his Guild, where he saw an excited Mek-Tek looking over a sapling-sized tuber coated in the dark, bramble shell. Witch-Hazel stood nearby with Spark, both looking directly into his eyes. Turning back, Haledon shook his head.

"You, you—" Sparrow immediately chirped to a pair of the Sequoia Squad. "Gather your Guild; go seal the forward end of the pod."

Haledon observed as a familiar rainbow eucalyptus Druid examined Sparrow up and down through the narrow windows of their helmet. Haledon watched as the Druid's posture changed to a relaxed stance of open defiance before Witch-Hazel stormed forward.

With a crack of their staff against the ground, whips of thorns grappled the idle Druids by their throats. Witch-Hazel thrust them into the ground and then up to the ceiling, where the two remained pinned.

"Listen here, Carnyx." They bellowed as they looked at the rest of the Druids in the room. "You pledged your Oath to Nature, Earth, and survival of this Fleet! Now, if I see any of you jeopardizing the survival of this Astralaceae by disobeying a direct order from a seasoned Primeval, I will personally see that you are rooted and set adrift in the void. Do I make myself clear, Carnyx Druids?"

"Yes, Cernunnos!" The room echoed as the Sequoia Druids replied in unison to Witch-Hazel.

Witch-Hazel released the two Druids, who fell to the floor with a dull thud. Waiting there, Witch-Hazel examined the unmoving Carnyx Druids of the Nexus before bellowing louder, "Seal the pod, Carnyx!"

The Druids scattered, rushing through the grassy veil and leaving the Guild in the Nexus. As the last of the Sequoia Druids departed, Haledon could hear Druidic chanting from beyond the floral screen.

"Sparrow, what's happening in my Nexus?" He asked, looking at a handful of saplings that stood quietly off to the edge of the room.

Leaning back, she waved her hand and the wall split. It revealed two concentric circles of Druids kneeling with their hands signing runes into the air. Haledon could see the inner circle had a Layering of Astralaceae Primevals. They rested their hands on the floor and consciously mouthed Druidic towards the tree, unaware of the world around them. In the spot where their hands were placed, roots and vines covered their fingers and pulsed red with the ship's beating heart.

The outer circle had a mixture of Primevals from the Astralaceae and Earth. They reached their hands out, touching the kneeling Druids before them. Loudly reciting in Druidic and transcribing runes onto the air with their free hands, vines wrapped around the knees and legs of the Druids.

"We are using the Druids as an instrument of Nature to speed up the environmental changes," Sparrow explained and looked back to the Guild. "And they will be maintaining the connection to your synthetically modified brambles. So, please, everyone, get in position around the tree and focus a final time."

Haledon stood up and helped Gazeas to her feet and over to the tree. As he passed the Druids, he looked over the familiar face of Lavendar as they concentrated on a kneeling Hannar.

Haledon stepped into his place, taking a position at the base of the trunk. He opened his hands, looking up towards the canopy that merged into the roof, and allowed his eyelids to close. With a deep exhale, he eased his mind and opened his eyes again. His bramble form emerged from the floral wall of the Nexus, allowing him to see his meditating body.

"Strange..." Haledon remarked as he approached his own relaxed body, inspecting himself and Gazeas.

"Very strange," Gazeas responded from behind him. "I always knew, but to see it is different."

Looking towards her, he noticed a dull sheen over the leaves of her bramble. Examining himself, he saw a similar waxy exterior to his form. But before he could question the discovery further, Sparrow approached and gripped both Druids by the arm.

"Sightsee another time," Sparrow interrupted as she gripped them, dragging them towards the ramp leading to the Broadhead. "You have to go now!"

"What's the plan?" Haledon asked as Sparrow released him, and he rushed forward, following the corkscrew out of sight.

"Destroy the Mecharrion Scout, then we escape through the black hole." He heard her yell as he moved, feeling the push of Witch-Hazel behind him. Haledon looked back and watched as the passage sealed behind the Guild.

"Yeah, easy in and out kind of mission." Witch-Hazel chuckled, continuing to guide the Astralaceae Druids up the ramp. "Don't worry. With you two knotweeds on our side, we'll have no problems invading the Mecharrion ecosystem."

"Yeah, but is there an actual plan?" Haledon asked as they rounded the final bend, and the Broadhead came into view. A busy Mek-Tek hopped from one control panel to the next as Spark eyed the bomb excitedly.

"Board the Scout near the black hole engine, detonate the bomb and then fly into the gravitational well." Witch-Hazel finished as they stepped past the bomb and began to work their fingers along the console's surface with Mek-Tek.

"Then navigate the gravitational eddies," Mek-Tek mumbled to himself loudly. "And avoid being shredded by the singularity and—"

"Yeah, I think we get it." Haledon cut in, his mind spinning in the many ways they could fail. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Haledon looked to the Guild, which in turn looked to each other and quietly exchanged glances. Without saying it, he knew the others felt a similar sense of worry over their mission.

"And I think we're lucky to have each other," Haledon said again. He eyed each of his companions in an attempt to reassure them. "Together, we will safeguard our escape from the Mecharrion."

"Yeah! Your Astra sure is lucky to have our Guild," Mek-Tek squeaked. "Since we're going to save it and all."

With a tug of the reins, the Broadhead's nose twisted up ninety degrees, and the ship raced through the hollow tube that had been left in the hull by the Astralaceaes. Within moments, they breached the threshold and emerged into the darkness of space.

Haledon looked to Gazeas and Spark, who had been investigating the bomb.

"Hey, umm—" Haledon said, tapping Gazeas' shoulder and pointing to the forward window.

"Oh, my—" She yelped and quickly raced to the consoles. "When did we move?—Wow, look at all the stars!"

Haledon joined her and the quickly approaching Spark as they admired the vastness beyond the Astralaceae hull.

"Look," Witch-Hazel pointed towards a geometric pack of silver darts that dove between a weakened and nearly defeated starfish swarm. "The first line of defence is almost gone."

"What's the second line?" Gazeas asked, to which Witch-Hazel only shrugged their shoulders in response. "Okay, so...can we go faster?"

"Heh," Mek-Tek chuckled as he whipped the reins. The Broadhead raced towards the Scouts, leaving the Astralaceaes and Megacolides behind. "Fast enough?"

"How does it move without—" Gazeas started to ask as a bright light blinded the group.

Blinking past the glare, Haledon stared at where the Mecharrion Scout had once presented itself. Its mountainous form is now shattered into thousands of pieces that drifted into the void. A second explosion rocked the next Scout, followed by a third.

"What's happening?" Haledon gasped.

"Exodidae!" Witch-Hazel said with a pleased laugh. "I normally hate ticks, but space ticks that detonate and take an entire ship with them...nice."

Haledon watched as fragments of the numerous Scout vessels, destroyed by the minefield left in the wake of the last attack, drifted towards the Comet. Colliding with the surface of the massive ship, the remnants detonated further. As the flash ignited, the Druid shielded his eyes once more. Blinking away the light, he looked back to the Comet and felt his heart stop. A chill ran down his spine, and the hair stood on his arms.

A glimmering pink aura had formed over the Comet's bell, sparing it from the Scouts' impact. Haledon felt his racing mind trying to rationalize with him as he thought about his dreams. But he couldn't escape it. The Comet's shape, pink colour, and the positions of its ever-churning structures crept into Haledon's mind, manifesting an all-too-familiar image.

"Okay. What do we do now?" Mek-Tek asked, looking at the group. "No Scouts, no black holes."

Without hesitation, Haledon gripped Mek-Tek's shoulder and pointed towards the pink moon that had visited his dreams since before he could remember.

"We're boarding the Comet."