Flash Fiction: Futile

Miranda composed herself at the bottom of the sink hole before she raised her pick ax and began her ascent up the limestone walls. The grenade in her cargo pants’ pocket bounced against her calf.

Making handholds for herself, she told herself to not be afraid. Her crew was sure to have turned the tide of the fight. The space pirates that hit the mining colony were no match for the lug heads and thugs that she had tended to as a medic. She told herself that it was true. They had sacrificed too much for this terraformed hunk of rock to lose it all now.

The pirates hadn’t breached the colony walls. They couldn’t be allowed too.

A shadow fell across her when she was just a yard from the hole’s rim. Low chuckles echoed down.

Miranda didn’t look up as she reached for her pocket. In less than a minute, she’d get the last laugh.