~☆~ PERSERVERANCE : A Prologue ~☆~ (spoilers)

[RandomWanderer]

((Feel free to swap Bastion for your own starborn. Enjoy!))

~☆~ UNIVERSE PRE-ALPHA : HEIMDALL STATION ~☆~

CRASH! The cell door buckled, but did not open.

“DAMN!” The voice cursed from the other side. “Torin? You still wearing the collar?”

He strained to answer, but his voice crackled and failed.

“I broke the field generator. But… if you've got that thing on… I don't know the range. Can you move away from the door? If I can get enough distance, maybe I can... I dont know... I have to try.”

Torin peeled himself from the floor and crawled to the farthest wall.

He could smell burning carbon, as the door smoked and twisted.

“COME ON!!” The voice roared. Rapid footfalls. Another crash against the door. This time it collapsed inwards.

“Bas…” Torin forced a whisper. What remained of his voice was too ragged for words.

"I'm here." Bastion climbed off the crumpled mess and stumbled to him. He grabbed at the collar and began tugging at it, turning it, searching.

“Can…” Torin wheezed. “...you open it?”

Silence.

“Bas…”

“...no... Shit. No. I can't.”

Torin slumped against the wall. “...just…go.”

Bastion pulled back and scowled at him. “Don't say that again. We make it out of here together, or not at all.” He turned towards the melted doorway, then pointed to somewhere beyond it. “About twelve meters… maybe thirteen... I could use some of my powers. Not well, but…” He looked at Torin. “ Can you walk?”

Unlikely. But Torin nodded anyway.

“Here. Lean on me.” Bastion slid his shoulder under Torin's and lifted him. “We'll hit the lab first. There’ll be something there to help you. Maybe weapons too. After that... I don't know where we are, or how to get out, but-”

“I…” Torin tried again to speak. “I…know…. ”

“Shh!” Bastion pulled him to the door and peered out. Two burnt guards lay dead in melted armour. Nothing moved. The only sounds were the ever present clicks and groans of stressed steel.

The research lab was directly outside of the containment cells. Though it had always taken several minutes for the guards to drag Torin between the two. He'd never gone without a fight, nor arrived without a beating. Upon seeing it, his skin burned in anticipation of pain. He balked at the doorway, weighing whether survival was worth re-entering that place.

“I'll go.” Bastion left him leaning at the doorframe. He dashed inside and tore through everything, finding one rifle, some ammo and medicinal items. “Good. Here.” He tossed a trauma pack to Torin, whose hands shook too much to catch it.

Bastion's face paled. He stopped rummaging and jogged back to the doorway. He retrieved the pack from the floor, and took Torin by the shoulders. “You're ok.” He eased him backwards, away from the lab. “You'll be ok, just… Here, let me.” He fumbled the pack open and administered the shot. Then he opened a can of water and pushed it into Torin's hand.

Torin drank. The water cleared his aching throat, while the stimulants cleared his mind.

“Y’okay?” Bastion studied his face.

Torin didn't want to answer that. “I know… where to go.” He coughed. “We're on a space station. At least I'm ninety percent sure... The low pitched groaning and creaking… intermittent stress in the structure. I think it's when correcting it's orbit.”

“Terrestrial habs also creak.”

“If there's wind, or quakes. I've heard and felt neither."

"…Alright. Then we’re in orbit. Probably. That means we're looking for cargo?"

“Cargo.” Torin nodded, tugging at the collar. “It will be at the heart of the station. We're in a wing. A remote one. No one comes through, except to use one of us. And they're done with me today.”

Bastion shook his head. “If they were done, they'd take that collar.”

“I fought them, so they left it.” Torin sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“You fought them After they were finished? …when they were putting you back?”

"Always." Torin growled. “Fuck them.”

"Blockhead…"

“We’'ll have to fight through everything on this station. Wardens. Robots. Turrets. I'm powerless - and so are you, if you're with me."

"I won't leave you."

"Weapons aren't enough. Only your powers have any chance-"

"I still wont-"

“I'm not asking you to leave! Just… distance. From me. From this. I’ll follow. Just not close enough to get you killed.” Torin reached for the Grendel in Bastion's hand.

Bastion let him take it. “Thirteen rounds, plus a full clip. Take these too.” He held forward another trauma pack and bandages.

Torin pushed everything into his pockets, except the rifle, which he inspected. His hands were steadier now. “Go ahead, and go hard. If you stop, we’ll be overrun. I've got your six. I won't let anything get behind you.”

Bastion drew a deep breath. “You really think we can do this?”

Torin shook his head. “I'm guessing we have zero chance of success. Plus or minus some small margin of luck.”

Bastion nodded. “Good luck, then.” He put his hand on Torin's shoulder.

Torin returned the gesture before they separated.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

 

[RandomWanderer]

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The hallways were narrow, and ran always in the same direction. By the time Torin passed the first bulkhead, he was confident that he had guessed correctly their location.

He rarely saw Bastion, so he judged their distance from the sounds of combat ahead. He passed many broken robots. There was one human corpse, with armour and weapons already removed. He did find a scoped Beowulf and more caseless ammo.

Once the alarm was raised, the turrets came online and progress slowed, finally stopping when Torin came upon Bastion.

The hallway had opened up into a larger space, which ended at an enormous bulkhead. It was closed. The other starborn crouched to the side of it, wearing warden armour and waving. He pointed at an open vent.

“I said don't stop.”

“I know,” Bastion whispered.

“Is it locked?”

“No.” Bastion's voice trembled. “Just… come. Look with me.” He led Torin into the vent and through the shaft. It didn't go anywhere. But there was a small bulkhead with a grate, through which they could see past the huge door.

They had reached the core of the station. An immense, open space, full of crates, partially constructed machines that looked like AI mechs, and hundreds of Wardens. The armed soldiers formed rows, facing the bulkhead, with their weapons trained upon it.

“So…” Bastion pointed at them. “I'm going to die riiight there. How about you?”

“Up.” Torin pointed at a high walkway along the left wall. “If i can get up there… It's a good place to snipe, until they shoot me.”

Bastion smiled. “Time for that ‘small margin of luck’ that you mentioned. If i manage to not die… which way should I run?”

“My guess… the cargo dockers would be straight ahead. Somewhere beyond those tall rows of crates.” Torin backed out of the vent. “If we wait, there will only be more of them. I'll give you some space. Shield up.”

Bastion followed him out of the vent and waited with one hand over the bulkhead control “Goodbye, Torin.”

“Good luck, Bastion.“

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

 

[RandomWanderer]

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Bastion hit the switch to open the bulkhead. With a loud clang, the door hissed and began to rise.

The bullets started before the light even hit his toes. So Bastion climbed onto the door and rode it up. When the door stopped rising the bullets stopped also. With some muttering the first row of wardens stepped forward.

Bastion threw on his reflective shield and dropped down. He grav-dashed straight past the first rows of wardens, into the thick of their ranks.

Smart. They couldn't shoot him without crossfire.

Torin broke cover and ran to the bulkhead. Nobody looked his way now. They all stared at Bastion, who stood among them with an “I-dare-you” expression. Torin slipped around the door and ran left towards the stairs.

A storm of bullets erupted behind him. A quick glance backward confirmed that all were aimed at Bastion. Most reflected back to the wardens, some of whom fell. But a few rounds broke through, causing a red mist to burst from Bastion’s back. He grav dashed again. He collided with one row of wardens and tumbled under the feet of the others. Then an explosion of light; a supernova threw burning bodies in every direction.

Torin reached the walkway. He dropped to his stomach and started sniping any warden that tried to stand. When the turrets came online, he rolled behind cover and shot those out too.

Below was quiet, the fight already over. Bastion was a ɓloody mess, crawling onto one of the wardens. The man beneath him was alive and screaming, as the starborn drew the life from his body in an attempt to heal.

Torin ached to go down there. But bringing his collar near to Bastion would likely kill him. He watched the other starborn crawl from body to body, placing a hand on each, forcing any lingering life into himself.

Then new movement caught Torin's attention.

“Bastion! Shield up!” Torin opened fire on a new wave of robotic reinforcements.

Bastion threw out a shield and pushed himself up. He ran towards the farthest side, where Torin had said the cargo docks could be.

Torin ran too, along the parallel walkway. The robots were faster. He fired at their legs, downing the front runners, whose tumbling bodies tripped others behind. But there were simply too many. Within seconds, Torin ran out of both bullets and walkway.

There were weapons everywhere below him, scattered among the corpses. He just had to get down there. He tossed his empty Beowulf and climbed over the barrier. A half-assembled mech stood nearby. It was close enough… probably… Torin jumped and successfully latched onto its shoulder.

There was a flash of light and heat ahead. Another supernova threw robots and burning debris. They pummeled the mech, overturning it. Torin jumped, as it collapsed into a stack of hydrogen tanks. He hit the floor, rolled and ran, as hissing tanks scattered around him.

He couldn't see Bastion. Up ahead, the remaining robots were digging fervently through burning crates.

Then he heard it; the screaming.

“I'm over here!” Torin roared. He snatched an equinox from the floor and emptied the clip into the robots. Two fell. The rest ignored him. “HEY!” He tossed the spent rifle and snatched up an Eon. He emptied that at them too. “I'm here!” He coughed the words again.

One by one, the robots stopped digging and focussed on him. But they didn't move from the debris.

“You stupid toasters!” He hurled the pistol at them. “Do you want me or not?” His eyes darted desperately to where he'd heard Bastion's voice. He couldn't go closer. If a shield was all that kept Bastion alive, then Torin's collar would extinguish it.

“Then I'm escaping!” He lifted another pistol from under his feet. “BYE!” He turned and ran.

That did it. The robots moved all at once. They gave chase, and they were much faster than Torin! He ran towards the crumpled mech. He threw himself under the fallen hydrogen tanks and crawled.

As the robots tore down through the top of the pile, Torin squeezed out from the back and stumbled onwards away from it. If he could get far enough from the tanks, he could shoot at them - ignite the gas - blow up some robots!

Torin glanced backwards. They were already jumping down from the tanks and swooping around him.

Yeah… that plan wasn't happening. Shit like that only worked in stories, with contrived happy endings. Torin was about to die. But at least he could choose how.

He raised the Eon, pointing at the tanks.

In the same moment, the nearest robots leapt upon him. But their blows never connected. They hung in the air above him, drifting slowly upwards, then backwards, towards a swirling distortion over the pile of tanks. The tanks too were lifted, along with the mech.

A gravity well.

Baston.

Torin's smile lived less than a second before he realised he too was being lifted; dragged towards the growing ball of robots and gas tanks.

He pulled the trigger.

The wave of heat hit him.
Then a wall hit him.
Then the floor hit him.

Air… he needed air… It was all around him but he couldn't take any of it. His diaphragm did nothing. His broken ribs scraped uselessly against his insides. Torin writhed and gasped, searching inside himself for any muscle that might help him to breathe in.

“Torin.” Bastion's face appeared above him, wearing blood and a smile. “You're alright. I've got you.” The starborn reached into Torin's pockets. He retrieved the second trauma pack. Then he lifted it to his teeth, tore it open and collapsed.

“Bas…” Torin wheezed. “Bas?” He picked up the trauma pack Bastion had dropped and administered to him. Then he felt something… shaking… Not from Bastion but from the floor beneath them. It was like a tremor - like hundreds of feet.

No… no more. The onslaught was endless.

Torin could hear them now, getting louder. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed against the floor. His right leg did nothing, so he took his weight onto his left. He grabbed a nearby rifle and slung it over his shoulder. There was an ammo clip and a bandage; the spilled contents of his pocket. He jammed both between his teeth, then he dragged Bastion's body up over his shoulder. Torin forced himself to his feet and staggered away from the sound. After two steps he collapsed.

Torin hissed and dropped the rifle, the ammo clip, the bandages - all of it. He grabbed Bastion's shoulder with both hands and dragged him. There were stacks of clutter by the wall. Hiding was the last chance left for them. So Torin pushed Bastion's body into the space behind the junk and pulled the boxes down on top of them.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

 

[RandomWanderer]

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Hours passed. Torin drifted in and out of consciousness, hugging the head of his friend.

On the other side of the boxes, the robots were busy, clearing away the dead bodies. Torin heard docking alarms, which meant ships were arriving and departing. Crates of cargo were being dragged loudly over the metal floor. The lockdown had ended, and nobody was searching for them.

"Torin?" The voice startled him.

Torin released Bastion's head. “I thought you wouldn't wake up…” His eyes burned and his vision became blurry.

“How are we…alive?” Bastion mumbled with some effort. What's happening?”

“They’re cleaning up.” Torin sniffed and wiped his wet face with his palm.

“Thats it?”

Torin nodded.

“They think we escaped,” Bastion mumbled. “...then we must have been close.”

Torin nodded again.

“So… what's our plan?”

“I don't know,” Torin used the hem of his tshirt to dry his eyes. “I don't think I can walk. And you… hold still… you're bleeding again.” Torin tore away the side of his shirt and pressed it to Bastion's neck.

“Still saving me, huh?” Bastion whispered.

Torin scoffed. “You're saving me, remember?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Well, you did break open my cell…”

“Because I needed my friend.”

“Aww.” Torin tore off more of his shirt. “You big softy.”

“I mean it. Every time they forced that collar on me, and dragged me to that lab, do you know what I thought?”

Torin cringed.

“All the nasty shit they…” Bastion shook his head. “...I got through it knowing that, whichever cell they dumped me in, I'd find a note from you. I wasn't in it alone.” Bastion cleared his throat. “This next part will make me sound like a bastard, but… I'm really glad that you're here.”

“...wow…” Torin tied off the bandage. “...you are a bastard.”

Bastion laughed.

Torin laughed too.

They sat quiet for a while. Outside, the robots were becoming less active. Their cleanup had to be nearly complete.

“Torin.”

“Bastion.”

“Why am I wearing pieces of your shirt?”

“I lost the bandage.”

“Do… we still have weapons?”

“Lost those too…” Torin offered a bolstering smile. “I do have a pocket full of bullets, though.”

“So we're screwed.”

“Unless you're really good at spitting, yes.”

Bastion's eyes narrowed upon Torin. “You have a plan, don't you?”

“If you call running and hoping a ‘plan’...” Torin pointed out to the left of their hiding place. “I think the cargo dockers are right there, through that bulkhead. That's where most of the crates come from. So that's where we’re going. Same as before; you go ahead and I’ll follow.

“No. You go in first. Find a ship. Prep it. Shout for me when it's ready. I'll come running.”

“Running?” Torin scoffed. “You're crippled and I won't leave you out here. If reinforcements come-”

“Mate. I don't need legs for space magic. Go on. I’ll get to you.”

Torin shook his head.

“Trust me. I'm not dying here. I'm getting out of this place. So I can return with a big fuck-off-ship wrapped in cannons. I'm gonna blow the shit out of this place.”

“One ship?” Torin shook his head.

“I'll call it Perseverance.”

“You think that will be enough?”

“Yeah, I do. That’s all I need. Perseverance.” He squeezed Torin’s shoulder. “And a good friend.”

Torin put his hand upon Bastion's. “You already have both.”

“I know…” Bastion smiled, laying his other hand over Torin’s. “Now piss off. I'm useless when you're near me. Go find us a ship.”

Torin nodded and pushed himself up onto his knees. The clean-up had ended and the robots were gone. The way out was as clear as it was ever going to be. He looked behind him one last time. “Shield up when I'm gone.”

Bastion was also up on his knees, ready to crawl out to the hallway. He nodded. “You're ok. Go on.”

Torin limped into the hallway and met nobody. He went in further, checking every docking bay, stopping every few seconds to listen. No footsteps. No fighting. He came upon a green light. Bay seven had a ship docked to it.

Torin looked both ways along the corridor and reached for the terminal. He hadn't realised how much he was trembling, until he tried to use the interface. Exhaustion, adrenaline and emotions were colliding inside him. Not yet, he hissed to himself, trying to steady himself. They weren't free of this place yet.

“Hyla.” The destination was already patched in. The grav-jump was ready. Actually, the jump was already initiated, but had paused because all reactor resources had been reallocated to the shield. That was weird - reckless even - to program a jump before decoupling the docker. It didn't matter. He was relieved to find a ship. Torin opened the hatch and listened again. Still nothing and no one.

Okay… time to go. “Bastion!” He called out. “Come now. It's ready.”

Footsteps, uneven but determined. Bastion appeared, moving faster than he should have been able. His reactive shield glowed bright. But it sputtered as he drew nearer, before it extinguished entirely.

Fucking collar. It didn't matter. Torin would be free of it soon. They would both be free.

Torin stepped inside the shuttle and put one hand over the docker release. His other hand remained at the doorway, reaching out to welcome his friend aboard. “Hey, Bas,” he smiled, letting hopeful excitement seep out through his caution.

Bastion stood frozen. With one eye wide open. The other eye was missing… a whole half of his head was missing...

Torin stared, dumbfounded, unable to make sense of what he saw. “...Bastion?”

His friend wasn't moving. Blood ebbed from what remained of his face. Then a convulsion shook his body and he collapsed. Behind him stood a warden, holding… something… Torin couldn't recognise it. He couldn't think at all.

The thing began to glow… it was pointed at him!

Torin threw himself backwards into the ship as a blinding beam seared past him. A loud hiss told him that the hull had been breached.

“Departing in three…”

What?!

The jump was initiating - with the docker still attached! Torin fell into the cockpit.

“...two…”

The engines flared to life and the hull began to creak. The jump would shear the ship in half.

Torin was already dead. Still, he kicked the cockpit hatch closed to seal it before crawling towards the pilot seat.

“...one…”

There was no time to reach anything. No way to disengage the docker. No way he could do anything other than die, still wearing that fucking collar. Torin stopped crawling and wrapped his arms over his head. His last thoughts were of Bastion. His friend’s body hadn't turned to light. Was he still laying beyond the docker? The grav jump would tear the cargo bay open. Bastion's body would be released into the black.

It wasn't the freedom he deserved.

With a skull-splitting boom, the ship lurched. Torin was vaguely aware of his body breaking against the cockpit door. Then white light and silence flooded his senses and there was nothing more.


~☆~☆~ UNIVERSE ALPHA ~☆~☆~

"Torin?"

He opened his eyes. A cup of terrabrew, with Bastions hand wrapped around it. Beyond that, the face of his friend, wearing concern and a warm smile. "Still tired?"

"Nope!" Torin, lifted his head from his arms. He constructed a confident grin. "I am well rested."

Bastion nodded. We reach Pyraas in eight minutes. He sighed. It’s going to be a tough fight.

“Want me to fly?” Torin reached for the cup.

Bastion moved it away and folded his arms. “Is crashing into Heimdall your new plan?”

Torin laughed.

They both did.

Bastion shook his head. “I just wish we had more ships. Six isn't enough. It's too late to change now, just…” He sighed and looked to Torin. “...we really could have used Perseverance.”

Torin smiled at his friend. “You have it.”

Bastion frowned.

“Perseverance. You have it. And… me. You have me.” Torin stood and picked up his rifle. “I've got your six. And… nothing will get past me.”

“I know.” Bastion squeezed his shoulder and walked away towards the cockpit.

“Leave the coffee?” Torin called after his friend.

"You said you're not tired." Bastion waved the cup in the air, but didn't stop walking.

Torin smiled until Bastion had gone. "Nothing will get past me," he mumbled, as he grabbed his equipment and headed for the docker. "Not to you.”

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

(End)

 

[Aroarachnid]

this is incredible omg ??? i love the idea that og bastion came up witht the name for the perseverance thats so sweet. so cool to see watchtower fic that makes use of the really incredible story and character depth. this is so great