Guardian (War Angel Book 1)

for real. I look to see what happened, but Larry’s gone.
* * *
“Griff, where’s Larry?” I ask my Guardian.
He replies in a gruff baritone, “Falling out of control after a lightning strike. His Guardian is non-functional and not responding to queries.” An image flashes into my visual cortex, showing the blackened, smoking Guardian missing a wing, and spiraling down out of sight through the clouds, leaving a trail of gray smoke.
I’m already diving after him before I remember to give the command to follow him down. Faintly, I hear my frame recorded a hit from our target, taking me out of the exercise. I’m directly over Larry, following the trail of smoke, and hitting him with full active scans. If I lose him in this storm, it could be forever.
“Emergency,” I transmit over the general channel. “This is Flight Leader Michael Vance. We have a damaged exo-frame falling out of control at coordinates 33001-69713-36974. Request evac frame transport and medical aid. Follow my signal. I’m going in after him.”
I pour on the thrust, straight down. Adding in Jupiter’s natural three gravities to my thrust, I get to falling really fast, and I can already feel the air clawing at the wings and control surfaces of my Guardian. I still can’t see him yet, but he’s no longer gaining on me, and I’ll soon catch up.
“Larry,” I broadcast, “If you can hear me, say something—give me a sign.” Nothing. “You’ve got to try to pull up or hover. Try to slow the rate of your descent.” There’s no reply but the static howl of the gathering storm.
The clouds continue to darken, deepening from a blood red into an ominous dark brown. Looks like we’re going to have a full-scale uplift storm coming. With all the winds, static, and weird IR readings that’ll cause, I have to follow Larry down, or they’ll lose him for sure in this mess.
Finally, there’s a break in the clouds. We’re falling between two decks of clouds. Above, the angry red and brown boiling mass of the storm. Shafts of reddish light lance down through the thinner clouds, like moving crimson searchlights lighting up the darkness below. In the depths, deep purple and black cloud masses loom like mountain ranges and valleys. They might not be real, hard surface features, but anyone falling into that will be just as dead as if they hit solid ground. The pressure, the winds, and the lightning down there will destroy anything.
The universe lights up with brilliant blue and purple light, and the cloud base glows for an instant, silhouetting Larry’s frame for a second. Then the glow is gone, and the clouds below are crackling with lesser lightning bolts as the thunder crack of the lightning blast far below shakes my Guardian. Deep lightning in a gas giant isn’t like anywhere else; it can strike like a fusion bomb.
I straighten out my wings and continue to dive after him. There isn’t much time. Temperature and pressure are rising rapidly, and if one of those lightning super-strikes goes off nearby, we’re both goners.
Finally, after an eternity my clock insists was only seconds, I catch up to him. His Guardian is still spinning madly when I try to grab on. The first time, I just rebound with an impact that sends us both spinning.
I straighten out and fly in again, arms outstretched. This time I manage to grab onto his remaining wing—which promptly comes off in my hands. Other bits of burnt wreckage from his Guardian are bouncing off my armor as I straighten my wings for one more pass.
Got it! I manage to clamp on with both arms wrapped around his frame, and we both go spinning wildly. Another monster lightning bolt lights up the world from below. I straighten out our spin with the control surfaces on my wings and engage thrusters.
Our fall slows and slows…but doesn’t stop. A Guardian can fly in Jupiter’s three gravities…but not while carrying another Guardian. All I’ve done is delay our fall until a lightning blast hits us, my thrusters give out, or we slowly drift into the deadly black clouds below.
“Where is that evac ship?” I broadcast, hoping my message will make it up there through all the static.
“…negative…” comes back through the static, “…too dangerous…evac canceled…return to base…”
Nope. I did not just hear that.
“Continuing on with evac mission, have that ship waiting for us. Vance out.”
“Larry, you’ve got to wake up!” I shout again.
Still nothing.
Far below, I can see the black clouds gathering into a swirling anti-cyclone charged with electric blue energy. We’re running out of time.
“You’ve got to wake up or we’re both dead!” I give his frame a shake. Please wake up…please…
“Hmm…. wha?” I hear over our channel.
“Larry! You’ve got to eject! Now!” His suit should be able to take this depth, and I’ll never be able to lift his whole frame out of here.
“‘Ject?” he mumbles.
“Yes! Now!”
There’s another flash and explosion, and I’m spinning away. His Guardian…just exploded. Pieces litter the darkening, storm-lit skies, trailing smoke.
Wait! He’s not dead! I can see his spacesuit over there, flashing with an emergency strobe pattern. His frame didn’t explode, he activated the explosive ejection system…OK, his frame did explode, but in a good way. So, maybe holding onto an exo-frame that’s about to activate its ejection sequence wasn’t the best idea after all.
I dodge the flying pieces of frame and dive after Larry. My Guardian flares out his wings at the last minute, slowing me down so I can catch him as gently as possible.
The small figure of the armored suit hangs limp for a minute, then gives me a feeble wave.
“I got you; don’t worry,” I transmit. “I won’t let you fall.” His suit looks undamaged, but I can’t tell whether he’s injured or not.
I ramp my thrusters