In Nick of Time, devastation looms over the Larian colony in this gripping sci-fi short. The undulating horde is on the brink of breaking through their final defenses. With hope dwindling and resources disappearing, the colonists have scraped together one last desperate strike. Whether it saves them, or just delays the inevitable, Tarian bets everything on a potential miracle.
This episode of Colonization is underscored by the bouncy tones of “Joyful Jaunt.” While the music may seem at odds with the bleakness of the story, its lively rhythm anchors the tale with a subtle undercurrent of resilience and hope.
As the siege reaches its crescendo, this story keeps you on the edge of your seat. With every choice made under pressure, themes of bravery, loyalty, and loss rise to the surface. Fans of military sci-fi, alien invasions, or intense character-driven action will find plenty to love here.
While some of the backing reasons elude my recollection for this series, this story’s kernel isn’t one of them. This is the apex of the last handful of tales. However, my youthful exuberance was quite apparent when I grabbed the originally published version. The imagined idea was there, yet it needed to be cultivated, refined, and deepened. Despite getting a more intensive editing, this installment still rings true to my original intent, just with more conviction.
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Tarian rushed to the center of the crumbling defenses and seized a rifle from one of the fallen. A tear welled, but he blinked it away. The dead deserved better, but mourning would have to wait. Among the fallen, he recognized Soren, one of the youngest members of this expedition. He had hoped to start a family here. Tarian’s chest tightened as he kneeled beside him, fingers brushing the man’s cooling skin.
A crude charm, likely made by a sister, dangled from Soren’s wrist. Tarian slipped it off and tucked it into his pouch without a word. He would remember. Around him, the stench of blood and ash clung to the air, thick as fog. The moans of the wounded rose between the cracks of crumbling stone, and somewhere behind him, sobs echoed, carrying names. The wall was breaking, inside and out. He gripped his rifle tight as he scanned the rampart.
Bodies and rifles lay scattered, nothing more than silent witnesses to the carnage of the horde’s siege. Fueled by burning hatred, he rose and opened fire into the enemy ranks. He fired twice before ducking behind the broken wall. Moments later, he peered through a nearby gap, and he could see the undulating mass below. He adjusted the scope and picked out distinct shapes in the writhing swarm, each more monstrous than the last.
He steadied his breath and squeezed the trigger. All shots aimed at a snarling beast, clawing its way up the wall. Each lance of light took one of the swirling bodies in the chest, but before the corpse could fall from view, more jumped in to fill the momentary void. He shifted, adjusting for his next shot, when a voice cut through the chaos.
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