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Prisoners of Sol - Girret Storm Riders (8/11)
🕑 Added 2025-07-07 11:00:14 +0000 UTCThere was a certain peace as the flames swirled in all directions, a surreal orange glow that was visible through the dusty, smoky air. I ambled back toward the road in a stupor, extending my suited arms out to the fire with acceptance. I closed my eyes and waited for it to eat through my gear. Reflecting on my life, my hope was that I’d accomplished the one thing I’d wanted to; to have the final chapter of my story be that of a hero, someone that’d be respected far past the small number of years in his life. All of the greasing palms that had been necessary to get out into the field—the people I worked with were good souls, despite what I’d once made of them.
Narol has been the type of friend I’d always wished to have; after the bond we’ve forged from training and being out in the field, I dare say that he’s family. We don’t always see eye-to-eye, but he’s the person I’ll miss the most from Doros. He deserves to find peace for himself and his family. He wanted to make it out of here far more than I did.
The feeling of pressure on the back of my hood jolted my eyes open, startling me half to death. Fire wasn’t supposed to land a physical touch. I blinked in confusion as I spotted another Girret coiling his tail to guide me; he was suited in familiar Storm Rider protective gear. By the looks of his flaming attire, he’d charged through the blaze that blocked the entrance. I recognized the family hood crest even in the half-lighting, when I couldn’t hear his voice over the crackling inferno. Narol…he refused to leave me? He came back?
“Redge!” my squadmate shouted, as I strained to listen. Looking closer at him, he’d wrapped a fire blanket over his gear and was ready to shed it. “I’m not leaving you here! We found a wagon and attached it to the sandglider.”
I gawked at him for several seconds, astonished. “Why? You should’ve gotten the kids…gotten yourselves out of here! I thought we agreed! You knew what was important to—”
“What’s important to me is having my fucking rescue brother around! I still want you to meet my family, and you’ve got a lot of good you can do, for others and for your ‘all-important’ reputation, if you live. Storm Riders don’t leave their own behind, man. At least, I don’t.”
“Narol—”
“I started to drive away, but couldn’t do it! Agree or not, I made my choice. Quit arguing and get in the wagon! Every second we stand here is risking everyone.”
“Which is why you shouldn’t have come back!”
I jogged after Narol and ducked under his blazing fire blanket. Sure enough, the wagon was parked with all of those passengers cramped inside in discomfort, which made me feel guilty that my squadmates had prioritized me over getting them out of there. Still, I couldn’t say I wasn’t touched that someone regarded me so highly as to think I was worth saving: that Narol saw me as an esteemed brother. Affixed to the back of the sandglider was a small cart that’d been chained to the rear. Most of the spare fire blankets were draped over it like a tarp.
I peeked under one to find a coughing young woman, who must’ve been nearby to flag the Storm Riders on. I supposed I could stomach my team diverting resources on my singular life, if grabbing this wagon had allowed them to rescue others. Each person saved meant something, and it was our duty to do whatever we could to get anyone out that we could. I didn’t want Narol and Tunia to feel guilt over leaving me, so I supposed once they’d attached a cart, they had to circle back for me.
I can’t say I wasn’t afraid of burning to death, and they saved me quite the wretched end. With the storm season, the fire planes aren’t getting out here fast, or maybe at all. There’s not much hope of it being extinguished in the immediate future.
I hunkered down on the other side of the cart, and Narol wriggled in alongside me, slapping the back of the glider to tell Tunia to drive. My squadmate kept away from the civilian, who lacked protective gear of all kinds; that was why he hadn’t gotten back into the vehicle cabin. Plowing through the flames with undeniable courage, fire had caught onto his clothing. He’d torch the cramped rescuees by packing himself back inside. I squeezed his extended arm in appreciation, and tried to ignore the jostling and rolling around at high speeds. We held on to the sides because of the high speeds, hoping not to smash our heads from momentum.
“I hope Tunia remembers the way out,” I sputtered, finding my own voice nearly drowned by the straining engine. “And that there’s no debris blocking the AR path…”
Narol glanced up at the orange dancing above the fire blankets, and at the flame patches flickering on his flame-retardant gear. “Promise me none of your other rescues will involve trying to get yourself killed! It’s like on a plane that’s depressurized, you put your own oxygen mask on first? You’re brave, but Storm Riders have limited manpower. You are throwing away your own life and hundreds of others, not to mention sabotaging the long-term functionality of our team. We love you and want you to make it through the cycle!”
“I’m not trying to die, but I’m willing—happy to, if it means not leaving behind someone right in front of me. How could I put myself in the glider over a kid? A young orphan who’s had no blessings in this world; I know what a bad childhood’s like, Narol. Am I gonna leave them to meet their end by burning to death, or give up my spot? I’m not counting the number of lives later. I’m counting the ones right in front of me.”
“But you don’t count your own! I wouldn’t have left a kid. Look here; you trust your squadmates, we figure something out to have a fighting chance. Together!”
“You’re right. I just didn’t want to be selfish and waste time. I didn’t want to risk you. That defeated the whole point of my sacrifice…”
“Redge, you’re a good person who knows how to live within the system. I imagine a future where you can do great things, and truly serve all of Doros in a fantastic capacity. You’re a rare type of public servant. You could change things for the Riders and set a strong example. You could do the same with far greater ambitions.”
“All I want to change is my reputation, and I do that by rescuing everyone. I don’t know what else you’re talking about, Narol, but you’re far better suited to buttering up the right people than I am. Assuming you mean management ambitions.”
“You’re better-suited by virtue of wanting nothing to do with politicking, and doing it as a necessity. I know you do, Redge. You’re a leader I’d follow, because you want to do whatever’s for the greater good. Think big picture, please. Just think about the grandest possibilities for the future. I see a life post-service where I can help make those dreams happen.”
“Look, if there’s some cause I can do something tangible to help, let me know. I’m focused on following in Bneria’s footsteps. And right now, I want to be certain that everyone in this sandglider gets out in one piece, and to give them the care they deserve. That’s the least I can do to repay all of you for risking your scales for me.”
My squadmate fell silent as we barreled through an endless sea of flames, roaring hotter and hotter in intensity. The blankets shielding us from above looked damaged and worn, so for the sake of the civilian wedged in with us, I hope we got outside of Ekpan’s bounds soon. The blankets tied around the glider’s body for extra security were almost completely eaten through. The light above us dimmed after what felt like an eternity of weaving around debris, and then we were out in the open sand. Tunia kept driving for several minutes to the nearest Storm Riders encampment, before she stopped the vehicle.
I threw off the blankets and didn’t waste a second to help load the children out of the sandglider; I had to be certain they didn’t suffocate or get crushed in the shuffle. Narol blasted himself with our extinguisher and kept it at the ready, dousing anything in sight that was ablaze. My Rider brother would ensure that if anyone did catch fire, they’d be put out with our limited supplies. That emergency tool kit wouldn’t have been able to help the large, widespread inferno back in Ekpan, but it was fine for small, contained flame patches.
Fortunately, we got everyone out without incident. Most of the civilians looked a little roughed up, and both Narol and myself had soot-stained gear, but we seemed no worse for wear. Our other passenger in the wagon was coughing, though the clean air and some water rations soothed her throat. I gave my Storm Rider squadmates a hug for their tenacity, grateful to be alive without any losses to show for it. Narol’s quick thinking was very impressive, especially when it happened under such stress.
“Thank you, Storm Riders!” the children we rescued cheered in unison, prompted by the orphanage caretaker. They all gazed at us with awe and admiration, after witnessing the bravery that’d saved their lives.
I gave a quiet head bob of acknowledgment. “It was our pleasure. Go get yourselves some food and water. We’re going to keep an eye on the situation and make sure you’re safe. As soon as more transport arrives, we’ll move you all to the nearest city. I hope these accommodations will be okay in the meantime!”
The adrenaline started to wear off now that the immediate danger had faded, and I stared out through the blinding fog in the direction of the faint orange glow. With the rapidly spreading flames in Ekpan, our unit had done as much as possible to save the lives of the citizenry; we’d gotten the most vulnerable and precious group out in a hurry. There was no telling what other rescues were in store for us during the rest of the storm cycle, but like Narol had said, I was going to try to do as much good as possible, for all of Doros.
A/N - 8! Narol finds a wagon to attach to the sandglider and comes back for Redge, ferrying him out under fire blankets. He couldn’t leave our narrator to die and believes that he’s capable of influencing the Storm Riders or Doros as a whole for the better. What do you think of the courage and care for Redge that Narol showed? Do you agree that Redge could be a positive influence in politics?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
EliasArt2Life
Redge just doesn’t seem to get the picture. He’s definitely got a Martyr Complex; he was even walking into the flames to finish himself off sooner, rather than trying to survive and see if his friends would come back for him. I think Narol isn’t long for this world. Near death experiences aren’t having an impact on Redge, and we’re at chapter 8/?. Since Space Paladin tends to update the total chapter count two chapters away from the end, we probably have 3-5 more chapters before then. Unless we’re getting a thematic shift following Redge’s rise in Girret politics, he’s not going to change from Narol’s talk alone. So what could act as a catalyst for Redge? He’s under the delusion that him sacrificing his life for others will make him a legend. Take that away from him. If Narol dies from heroic acts, Redge will see firsthand how much if a legend Narol will become; he’ll get a memorial service, his name added to the monument, and within a month, no one’ll mention his name again. I’m hoping that there’s ANOTHER catalyst that can change things for Redge, but he’s being so blockheaded about this that it’s looking less and less likely (save for his superiors benching him with either a promotion to management or an honorable discharge).
Xilacnog
Narol & Tunia: "Repeat after us, No... Trying... To... Die. " Redge: "My time has come! LEEEEEEEEROY JENKINS!"
