This is a flash fiction challenge entry from Chuck Wendig’s blog, terribleminds.com.

You can read the challenge post here.

This post also represents a couple of firsts. 1) This is the first work of fiction I’ve ever published anywhere. 2) This is the first work of fiction I’ve ever let another human being even SEE. 3) This is, by FAR, the most excited I’ve ever been writing ANYTHING.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Peregrine rolled under a hail of darts. The unibot hovering above her was relentless. She vaulted out of the way of its never ending fire. Luckily it was having trouble locking on to her.

Her new IR inhibitors seemed to be doing their job.

Peregrine tapped a tiny pressure switch inside her gauntlet. Explosive talons.

She was taking aim when a streak of green lightning boomed past. The sound was deafening in the narrow corridor. The lightning slammed into the unibot, sending it crashing into the floor.

“Need a hand?” said Gawain.

Peregrine spun toward Gawain, wrists outstretched. Three razor sharp talons flew from launchers concealed beneath her wrists. They arched around Gawain and buried themselves into a second unibot that had been hovering silently toward him. The discs exploded on cue, blowing the robot to pieces.

“I’ve got it under control,” she said, “Leave.”

The armored door at the end of the hall shuddered. Apparently Gawain wasn’t the only Alliance member that had decided to interrupt her.

From the looks of the workshop, the Handyman had been there for a while. The Alliance watched in silence as Peregrine tossed aside half finished unibots, bits of weapons, and odd shaped pieces of metal.

It had to be in buried under the mess.

It had to be.

“What is all this?’’ Desyre asked.

“I don’t know,’’ Peregrine said. She didn’t bother to stop her search. “He’s got things cooking down here that I’ve never even heard of.’’

“Now THAT worries me,’’ said Desyre. Spartan and Gawain chuckled behind her.

Peregrine was used to being laughed at. More than once she had come home from school in tears because the girls had been mocking her. Daddy would always hold her and tell her that was just their way of being afraid.

He said they weren’t as intelligent as she was and it scared them. Daddy always knew how to make her feel better. She’d throw her arms around daddy’s neck and tell her how much she loved him.
That was when he was the Peregrine.

The original.

Founding member of the Alliance.

Now he was dead.

Now she was the Peregrine, and she was his only hope.

Peregrine tossed aside a half finished humanoid robot. Behind the robot, a small console winked to life. Next to the console sat a small metal pad.

She tapped a few on screen buttons and the device began to hum. A ring of lights around the pad flashed.

“What’s that?’’ Spartan asked.

“That,’’ Peregrine said, “Is a time machine.’’

The rest of the Alliance was silent while Peregrine tapped the screen, scrolling through technical information and device settings. The physics were impossible and yet, here they were in front of her. The innocent looking console, tethered to a small metal pad in the floor, looked to be very capable of sending an object back through time.

“Is that even possible?’’ Gawain asked.

“It shouldn’t be,’’ Peregrine said, “But the Handyman is a genius. It looks like he figured it out.’’
The Spartan stepped forward, shield raised.

“We need to destroy it,’’ he said.

“Destroy it? Why?’’ Peregrine asked, “Do you know what this means? What good the Alliance could do with time travel? We could go back and stop villains and alien invasions and natural disasters before they happen. We could go back and save the civilians that always get caught in our fight. We could…’’

Peregrine paused. A single tear rolled down her cheek, behind her armored mask.

“We could save my father,’’ she finished.

“I know,’’ Spartan said, “We need to destroy it.’’

“Didn’t you hear me? We could save my father!’’ Peregrine screamed, unable to hold back. Spartan took another step toward the device. She stepped between him, arms outstretched. Her talons couldn’t stop the Spartan but she hoped they could at least slow him down.

The Spartan lowered his shield. Gawain, Desyre, and Orlock, their friends and teammates stood back, waiting.

“Cammie, listen to me,’’ the Spartan said, “Your father was my best friend. He saved my life more times that I can count. He saved the entire WORLD more times than they’ll ever know. He died a hero. We need to leave that be. This thing, if it is capable of time travel, is dangerous. Too dangerous to risk it falling into the wrong hands. It needs to be destroyed.’’

The Spartan was a friend, one of the very few friends that knew her well enough to call her by her name while in the guise of the Peregrine. Yet here he was, intent on stopping her from saving the man she loved more than anything.

Peregrine shifted a thumb slightly inside her armored gauntlet. Two talons zipped from her wrist launchers. They caught the Spartan in the chest, erupting into a cloud of smoke.

“I have to do this John,’’ she said. She punched a blinking red square on the console’s touch screen. A shaft of light crackled to life on the small metal pad. The Spartan dove for her through the smoke, but she had already leapt into the pillar of light.

Peregrine landed hard on the cement floor. A cloud of dust rose around her. The Alliance was gone, the Handyman’s workshop was gone. The basement room looked as if it hadn’t been occupied in decades.

She rolled to her feet and sprinted for the door. Despite the changes to her surroundings the overall architecture of the building hadn’t changed. At the end of the long corridor, right where it should be, was a heavy iron door leading back out into the alley.

She threw her shoulder into the door and burst into the light. Down the corridor, deep in the basement, she heard a crack of energy from the machine.

The Spartan had followed her.

Peregrine pressed her elbows into the sides of her armor, latching her wings in place. Her boosters ignited, launching her high above the city.

West.

The Harbor.

Her Dad’s last battle.

The Spartan might try to stop her but no one could outrun a Peregrine in the air.

A slow, steady beep began in Peregrine’s helmet. Her sensors had picked up on her father’s own armor.

She could save him.

She could win.

Finally she saw her father standing on the docks. The Alliance was ringed around him. The villain hadn’t arrived yet. She was in time.

Even high above the harbor her helmet began to amplify the Alliance’s conversation.

“Ethan, give me the controller,’’ the past Spartan said, “This has gone far enough.’’

“Far enough?’’ her dad said.

Her dad.

His voice.

Alive.

Fresh tears streamed down her face.

I’m coming daddy.

“Do you have ANY idea what I am about to do for the world? DO YOU?!’’ her father screamed, “I am about to make us all obsolete. I am about to end conflict in this world, forever. New York, DC, London, Jerusalem. They’re the core of the cancer eating away at this world. With this I can cleanse them all in fire. The world will be free, the way it was always intended. Free from corruption, and greed, and crime.’’

The past Spartan raised his shield, readying it for a throw. The Spartan never missed. And he was aiming straight for her dad.

“You’re not talking about freedom, Ethan,’’ past Spartan said, “You’re talking about anarchy.’’

The past Spartan loosed the shield. He was fast, but a diving Peregrine was faster. She ignited her boosters and landed feet first on top of the speeding disc.

She had seen the Spartan throw the shield dozens of times but she was unprepared for how heavy it was. Even with her boosters on full her momentum wasn’t enough to stop the shield. The flying disc wobbled beneath her.

Peregrine vaulted in the air and hoped she had changed its trajectory enough to make a difference. She landed on her feet. Using a hand to steady herself she slid to a stop.

She gained her balance in time to watch the Spartan’s shield, the shield she had tampered with, catch her father squarely in the chest. His armor wasn’t enough to stop the missile, not with the strength of the Spartan behind it. The shield nearly cut him in half.

Peregrine couldn’t stand.

She dropped to her knees.

And she screamed.

Her Spartan dropped from the sky. He took her in his arms. A shock of white light and they were back in the Handyman’s workshop.

Peregrine’s wails ripped through the tiny underground room.

Scraps of half finished projects rattled from the cluttered benches.

The Spartan held her firm.

Screams turned to sobs.

Sobs turned to a steady stream of tears.

Finally, the Spartan spoke.

“I was aiming for the controller,’’ he said, quietly.

“I know,’’ said Peregrine, “And I killed my father.’’