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Heroes Of Their Story

Lonnie and Adam stood side by side, hands flying across the keypads. Rapid sharp click clacks filled the couples ears, nearly swallowed by the blaring sirens. Their movements broken up every few seconds by a violent flash of red as the computers systems announce, in harsh beeps, that they had failed to shut it down. Again.

Lonnie was really starting to hate that color.

Adam curses on her left, slamming his fist down on the consoles edge. Her fingers falter and she looks out the corner of her eye, at the image of Adam, her partner in all things, his head bowed in defeat. She nearly gives up in that moment, nearly lets the tide of horror and sorrow and guilt wash her away — and then she turns away. Closes her eyes tight, swallowing heavily, breathing deep as the sirens continue shrieking in her ears. Then she reopens them, shakes her head, and forces herself to resume.

“Hey.” Lonnie hisses. Adam growls back. “Adam.” She warns, unable to say more as her attention is drawn back to the screens. A cheer blooms to life in her chest, she’s almost there, they’re so close, it would all be over soon — and then her screens flash that stupid color. Again.

//ERROR ___ FILE CORRUPTED//

//ACCESS: DENIED//

//OVERRIDE COMMAND: DENIED//

//DETONATION IN 20 MINUTES//

This time, Lonnie screams. She slams down both her fists, the pain unnoticed, the venomous bite of their, of her decision, outweighing any outside prick. A sob bubbles in her throat, and falls, broken, from her trembling lips. They had failed.

Hands curl around her shoulders, brushing down her arms to wrap around her front, steady, warm. Adam holds her against his chest, chin pressing into the curve  between her neck and right shoulder. He presses gentle kisses to her skin as her breath hitches. Lonnie trembles, pressing back against her beloved.

“We — we can’t stop it.” She whimpers, knuckles white against the console. “Why can’t we –” She stops, another harsh sob spilling forth. “It’s not fair — “Adam hushes her again, holding her tight. Wetness drips onto her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge it.

Why was this happening? They were supposed to be the heroes — heroes succeeded.

Didn’t they?

Lonnie doesn’t know anymore. She only knows that their station is falling like a star, and that its core would detonate as soon as it hit the surface of the planet below. Their planet, their very inhabited planet. Thousands would perish, at least, maybe more, even though evacuations would be well underway. They wouldn’t matter if the core detonated.

It was those meddling workers fault. Lonnie thinks, growling, a pitiful sound between the whimpers and gasps leaving her lips. They hadn’t understood — no one but Adam had. So they had to do some questionable things to get where they were. So they had killed and lied, so what? So what that their hands were dripping in the blood of all who had told them NO. Heroes sometimes got their hands dirty, hell, ordinary people got their hands dirty to accomplish their goals.

They had to do what they did. Every cry for mercy, every weapon made, every life and plan she and Adam destroyed — it was for everyone’s good. It was for peace, it was to save all those pitiful souls back down on their home planet.

So what that they put up threatening warnings, sent out their bots to take out that loathsome group of lower-class workers. So what if the lives they left broken in their wake. Not one single thing, or person mattered more than the completion of their goals. That group of rogues didn’t understand, no one understood that they… that they had to … that everything would be simpler if they just gave up and … and ….

Everyone always believes they are the hero of their story. But Lonnie…

She realised they were the villains in someone else’s.

“…Adam?” Lonnie asks, breathless, turning to face him as the station shuddered violently, nearly sending the couple to their knees. “We — we aren’t in the right here, are we?” She asks. “We aren’t heroes, are we?” Adam shakes his head, throwing her a watery smile.

“No, Lon. I don’t think we are.” He pulls her close, burying her face in his chest as he mumbles into her hair; “I don’t think we have been for a long time.”

Well, that’s depressing. Still, thinks Lonnie, as she laughs bitterly in her husbands chest. We have one more option left.

Before Lonnie can open her mouth to ask, Adam nods. Lonnie sniffs, puts on what she hopes is a comforting or strong smile, and turns back towards the console, inputting a series of codes. They can’t stop the core from detonating, can’t stop their station from crashing. But they can detonate the station before it becomes a danger to the people below.

//CLEARANCE: ACCEPTED//

//CORE DETONATION IN 30 SECONDS//

Lonnie spins, launching herself at Adam, and presses her lips to his. Tears spill down both their cheeks. They kiss, and hold each other flush against the other.

They may not be the heroes of this story. They may not live to see their home at peace, but they will go out on their terms. They go out together, in a blaze of glory.

Lonnie doesn’t mind. Adam has never kissed her so fiercely, so gently before.

Adam doesn’t care anymore. He is so tired, and Lonnie is perfect against him.

//DETONATION IN 20 SECONDS//

//DETONATION IN 10 SECONDS//

“Adam?” Lonnie asks.

“Yes?” Adam croaks.

“I love you.” She breathes. Before Adam can answer back, she steals his lips again. Adam chuckles bitterly in her mouth. Lonnie always had to have the last word. They steal each others last breath as the annoying red and blaring monotone voice announces;

//DETONATION IN 1 SECOND//

//DETONATION: COMENCING//

 

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