Valiant

[Valiant #17: A Visit To Vinnei]

Log Date: 12/15/12763

Data Sources: Feroce Acceso, Kiwi

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Bridge Hallway

3:05pm LST

“So we’re going to be squaring off with CURSE when we drop out of warp?” Renchiko says, struggling to keep up with me as I stride down the hallway.

“We’ll assess when we arrive in the Vinnerheim System.” I say, short and to the point. An engineer moves out of the way as my bootsteps echo down the hall to the bridge. “And neither of you will be deploying to the surface. This will be a high-risk engagement, if we do deploy.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Ridge complains from my other side. “I managed to hold my own last time we went up against CURSE!”

“That was over three months ago, and Onslaught nearly shot you.” I remind him, reaching into my longcoat and pulling out the case for my Crescendo earbuds, flicking the lid open and checking their charge. “Advance reports indicate that Prophet’s going to be present, along with Blockchain. They’re both heavy hitters. CURSE isn’t pulling their punches here, so both of you will remain aboard the Accatria in the event that we deploy to the surface.”

“Why are we going to fight them, again?” Renchiko asks as we come up on the bridge itself. “Thought I heard something about Sanctuary or something…”

“The request came in from the Masklings, who are our allies.” I say, snapping the case shut and tucking it away. “CURSE made a move on one of their Sanctuaries, claiming that they were sheltering a rogue Challenger there. Forecast says that they don’t have a Challenger at the Sanctuary, and that CURSE is using it as a pretext to raid the Sanctuary and try to get some intel, so we’re moving to help.”

“So that’s why we diverted from returning to the Valiant outpost?” Ridge asks as I tap my badge to the access pad, the door sliding open. “Wouldn’t it take us at least a couple days to get to the Vinnerheim System?”

“Normally, yes. However, our previous warp route took us right past Vinnerheim on our way to dark space, and we were passing the system when we received the emergency call from the Masklings. So we stopped and reoriented so we could detour to the system.” I say, stepping onto the bridge. Dussel’s in the captain’s chair, with Tony at the adjutant’s console, while Sierra is at the window. “What’s our ETA?”

“Arrival in four minutes and forty-two seconds.” Tony calls without looking away from her console. “Commander, the warp drive is going to be running hot due to insufficient time between our last warp and the current detour warp. If we warp again in under two hours, we may sustain damage to the drive.”

“Pretty sure we’ll be in Vinnerheim for more than two hours.” Dussel says, swiveling the chair to look at me. “Gods, now there’s two of them. This is the bridge of a merc ship, not an orphanage, Songbird.”

“They’ll remain quiet and stay out of the way.” I say, crossing the bridge to end up beside his chair.

“No, I won’t.” Renchiko says. “You all just happened to get this distress call while you were within an hour’s jump time from Vinnerheim? The timing is statistically improbable with how large the galaxy is.”

“We’re aware.” Tony says. “I have already iterated as much to the Commander and the Lieutenant Commander.”

“We know it’s a trap intended to draw us out.” Sierra says, looking over her shoulder. “We’re going anyway.”

“Wait, it’s a trap?” Ridge demands. “I thought the Masklings were our friends!”

“It’s not a trap from the Masklings. It’s a trap from CURSE.” I explain. “Their intelligence department must’ve keyed in on our last known location and jump route, and scrambled a Peacekeeper squad to set up an ambush. The Masklings think that CURSE is attacking the Sanctuary to steal intel, but they’re really doing it to draw us out.”

“It is very likely they are doing both.” Tony says, her eyes glued to her console. “There is no reason for them not to do both if the opportunity presents itself.”

“Do we know what we’re going to encounter when we arrive there?” I ask, my hand going inside my longcoat to check my ninjato hilts.

“CURSE’s interdictor, the Justice, is in orbit around Vinnei, the capitol world.” Tony explains. “The Nyroc is holding position in high orbit; once we arrive, they will be moving into action. The Justice has already deployed its Peacekeepers and a combat platoon to the surface.”

“We’re going to need to engage them in order to get our people down to the surface.” Sierra says, turning to the tactical officer. “Start mobilizing teams for deployment.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up.” Dussel says quickly. “Who said we were going to deploy anyone?”

“I did. Just now. Literally ten seconds ago.” Sierra says.

“It’s one thing to walk up to the trap and take a look at it. It’s another to stick your foot right in it.” Dussel says, sitting up in his chair. “Deploying armed troops to the surface without warning will trigger a response from the planetguard. We can prolly get to the surface without a problem, but local air defense is going to make it hard to get back out. Vinnei isn’t some hillbilly backworld like Shanaurse. They will have quick response fighter squads.”

Sierra shrugs. “Then we park in orbit and shoot them down when they get in the air. Problem solved.”

“Shoot them down from—” Dussel says in disbelief, raising a hand to wave it around like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Lieutenant, do you understand how many intergalactic laws that would break? Firing on local air defense from orbit is a goddamn war crime!”

“What’s the Colloquium gonna do, blacklist us twice?” Sierra says, rolling her eyes.

“They may very well increase the bounty on us.” Tony points out drily.

“You said the Nyroc was in the system?” I interrupt. “They have a stealth skipper. If we need to get to the surface, we can rendezvous with them, and avoid fighting with the Justice, or pissing off the Vinnei planetguard.”

“Or we could do that.” Sierra says, flicking a manicured finger toward me. “See, he’s good for something. Look at that creative problem-solving.”

“So if we’re sneaking down—” Ridge begins.

“No.” It’s something that Sierra, Dussel, Tony, and myself all say at once.

Ridge grumbles, folding his arms. “What’s the point of learning all this stuff if I never get to use it?”

“You’ll get to use it on missions where there’s not a risk of you being turned into a bloody splatter in a single hit.” I reply. “So our plan will be to gather up a small team, rendezvous with the Nyroc, and take their stealth skipper so we can deploy to the surface without getting shot out of the sky. I’ll be going. Lieutenant, you’re the only other Challenger on this ship and probably the only other person that could go toe-to-toe with Peacekeepers. Are you coming along with?”

Sierra smirks. “You want me to get my hands dirty?”

“I can’t take on three Peacekeepers by myself.” I answer without hesitation.

“I’m pretty sure you could.” she counters without missing a beat.

That takes me off guard. “…okay, well, I’m flattered, but I’d rather not take that risk when there might be lives on the line. You coming along or what?”

“Arrival in sixty seconds.” Tony calls over our conversation. “Tacticom, on standby. Comms, prepare to contact and establish a channel with the Nyroc once it has been located.”

“Well, if you insist.” Sierra says, slipping off her old Challenger dress jacket and cap and folding them over one arm. “I’ll need to go get geared up. I’ll be back in five.”

“I’ll be here.” I say as she heads for the door. After that, I look to Dussel. “Are you okay with this? I figure it would minimize our contact with local authorities, which should make things less messy.”

“Little late to be asking permission now, sonny.” Dussel mutters, leaning back in his chair. “Seems like you all have already figured out what you’re doing. But yes, this seems like the best way to go about it for now. Better than shooting planetary defense fighters from orbit, at least.”

“Yeah, I’d rather avoid that as well.” I agree, turning my attention to the forward windows. The lensed abyss outside the ship starts to straighten out into points of light sprinkled across the dark, with the round, green-grey sphere of a planet to our right — Vinnei, the capitol of the Vinnerheim System.

“So, we’re just going to wait up here while you and the other Challenger go do your thing?” Renchiko asks, her arms folded. She doesn’t look too pleased with that, and I can’t say I blame her.

“If it makes you feel better, we’ll probably be in for a rough time of it down there.” I say, pacing towards the window a little to get a better view of the planet. “I’ve had encounters with both Blockchain and Prophet, and I came out of those pretty beat up.”

“I mean, if you brought us along…” Ridge says, leaving the rest implied.

“If I brought either of you along, I’d spend the entire time worried about you two.” I point out. “Both of you are human. You can’t take a beating the way Sierra and I can. That’s why we’re deploying, instead of anyone else.”

“Adjutant, we have visual confirmation on the Justice, currently in orbit.” the tacticom officer calls. “Weapons signatures not yet detected, though shields are up and their point defense array appears to be active.”

“Comms inbound from the Nyroc, though we have not located her yet.” adds the comms officer. “Would you like me to answer on the main window, Commander?”

“Go ahead.” Dussel says.

I turn to look as the main window of the bridge transitions over to a screen, with a view of the Nyroc’s bridge quickly resolving in hues of black with green holoarrays. Tarocco is behind one of the consoles, while Forecast is standing in the middle of the bridge, and Kiwi and Cahriu are off to the side. Kiwi looks like she’s settled for jeans and a rugged jacket, while Cahriu’s working on getting into what appears to be the Maskling version of combat armor. It looks like he’s recovered from our little encounter a month ago, probably aided along by whatever recuperative magic the Masklings might have available to them.

“Commander Dussel.” Forecast says tersely. “I was just about to dispatch my team.”

“Well, let’s not do that quite yet.” Dussel says. “We’re not planning on going toe-to-toe with the Justice; last time one of our battlecruisers did that, it took us a month to get it back up to scratch. I’m under the impression that you all have a stealth skipper, so let’s rendezvous, get Songbird and Lieutenant over to you all, and they can deploy with your team.”

“We don’t have time for that.” Kiwi says before Forecast can answer. “CURSE and their Peacekeeper shitheads are already at the doors of the Sanctuary and it’s going to take us at least twenty minutes to get down there, counting in launch time and atmospheric entry. We’re on the clock right now; if we rendezvous with you all, that’s going to be another twenty minutes and it’ll be too late by then. We’re leaving; if you all want to follow, be our guests.”

“While I don’t agree with how coarsely she’s phrased it, I cannot disagree with the underlying sentiment.” Forecast says, glaring over his shoulder at Kiwi. “This is time-sensitive; I will be deploying my team once they are ready. We cannot afford to wait for the time it would take for us to rendezvous, on top of the fact that it would give away our position to the CURSE vessel. We would appreciate it if you were able to deploy teams to support us once we’re on the ground, however.”

“Forecast, I feel for you, but we can’t sneak troop transports past a CURSE interdictor the way you guys can.” Dussel says, leaning forward in his chair and planting his elbows on his knees. “The moment we launch transports for ground deployment, the Justice is going to be powering on weapons. That’s going to require us to engage with the interdictor to keep their fire off the transports, and we’re not going to be able to win that fight. It’d require support from a second vessel to keep the odds even.”

“Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” Kiwi says, backing towards the doors as Cahriu finishes buckling his armor on. “CURSE isn’t going to wait politely for us to get down there; they’re going to beat down the doors of the Sanctuary the way they did on Wisconsin. We’re heading down there. Follow if you want.”

“Kiwi, you need support!” I snap at her. “You can’t take three Peacekeepers, and a platoon of CURSE operatives, with just yourself and a few Mask Knights. You need help.”

“You passed your chance up. I’ve got all the help I need.” she says as the doors to the Nyroc’s bridge open. “C’mon, Cahriu. Let’s roll.”

She’s gone before I have a chance to reply. Not that I would’ve had anything to say; I hadn’t expected her to say something that harsh, and the way that Cahriu smirked over his shoulder as he left just rubbed in all the more. I only notice the awkward silence on the bridge when Ridge breaks it by muttering “What a bitch.”

“Language.” I murmur, halfheartedly. More as a reflex than anything else.

“I apologize.” Forecast says, massaging his forehead. “Commander Dussel, I would still like to coordinate with you on a way to get your people down to the surface as support. If that would require the Nyroc to provide fire support—”

“Where are you going?” Renchiko demands as I turn and stalk towards the doors of our bridge.

“Going to tell Sierra not to bother getting geared up. We’re not going down there to clean up corpses.” I growl. “Kiwi wants to go get rolled by a bunch of Peacekeepers, she can be my guest.”

“Songbird!” Dussel barks over the back of his chair.

“Piss off, Dussel! I’m done playing nice!” I snap back at him. “My patience has a limit and we just reached it. I’m going to go find Sierra and tell her to stand down.”

“Songbird, wait!” Renchiko calls after me as I march out of the bridge just as fast as I’d come. I can feel my temper smoldering, a delayed response to Kiwi’s spiteful response, but at the same time I was aware it was probably deserved. I knew I shouldn’t have beaten Cahriu to a pulp. What did I think would happen? That she’d respect me for that?

“Songbird!” I can feel Renchiko’s hand grab my arm as she catches up to me, and I turn, looking back at her. “You’re not really going to let them go down there and get themselves killed, are you?”

“I’d help if they let us, but Kiwi made it abundantly clear she doesn’t want our help.” I say, gesturing back down the hall even as Ridge arrives.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go help them.” she points out. “Mom always went and helped people that didn’t even know they needed help. And besides, you care about Kiwi, don’t you? She’s being a bitch, yeah, but you don’t actually want her to die, do you?”

I purse my lips at that. “…no, but you can’t help people that won’t accept help.”

“You can. Mom did it all the time.” Renchiko says, letting go of my arm. “Just do what she used to do. Go down there and wait for them to realize they can’t do it on their own.”

“What’s going on?” I turn again to see Sierra’s coming around the corner, geared up in a set of partial power armor that’s seen better days.

“Kiwi’s being a bitch.” Ridge says.

“Oh, so the usual, then.” Sierra says, checking the magazine of her coilgun rifle. “When are we going to rendezvous with the Masklings?”

“We’re not.” I say flatly. “They’re not going to wait up for us, and if we launch a transport from the Accatria, we’d have to engage the Justice to keep it from shooting the transport out of the sky. Which is a fight that the Accatria can’t win without support, and brings complications of its own.”

“And Kiwi insists she can take on three Peacekeepers and a full platoon of CURSE operatives with just herself and a few Mask Knights.” Renchiko adds. “But I think she’s saying that just so she can tell Songbird she doesn’t need his help.”

“Not surprised.” Sierra says, pulling her long, platinum hair out from behind her back so she can hook her rifle back there. “Well, if we can’t catch a ride with the Masklings and a transport is too slow, why don’t we take a drop pod down to the surface?”

I give her a look. “…you know that’s going to freak out the planetguard, right? If we deploy a drop pod here, we’re not getting it back.”

“You’re going to be moping for months if Kiwi gets killed.” Sierra says, starting to bun up her hair at the back of her head. “Losing a drop pod is a small price to pay for avoiding that. And besides, I know you don’t really want to give up on her, so let’s get down there and make her eat her words.”

I let out a low grumble. “She thinks she’ll get on fine with Cahriu…”

“She’ll probably do the same thing to him that she did to you.” Ridge points out. “But that’s his job, isn’t it? That’s what her handlers are for.”

“What’s he talking about?” Sierra asks.

“Nothing.” I say through gritted teeth, starting to walk. Ridge is right; if we don’t get down there and back them up, Kiwi’s going to burn through Cahriu like a chainsmoker blows through a pack. As much as he pisses me off, I’m not so spiteful that I’d wish death on the dude. “Drop pod it is, then. Let’s go.”

“Perfect. Dussel’s going to be so pissed.” Sierra says, grinning as she gives a little wave to Ridge and Renchiko. “Hold down the fort while we’re gone. Don’t tell them where we’ve gone until we’ve launched.”

“Come back to us, Big Brother.” Renchiko calls. “You still have to teach me how to pilot a Titan.”

“It won’t take me a decade to come back this time.” I say to Renchiko, as I start backing away. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone!” Turning back about, I start jogging to catch up with Sierra, steeling myself for what’ll lie ahead.

It’s time to go another round with CURSE.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Drop Pod A3

3:23pm SGT

“You locked in?” Sierra asks as I finish buckling in and tightening the straps.

“I’m strapped and trapped, yeah.” I say, pulling down the roll cage for my position and locking it into place around myself. The drop pod is a cramped, claustrophobic affair; it’s basically a shaped cylinder covered in directional rockets and heatshield plates, meant for going from high orbit to ground in under ten minutes. The exterior is designed to withstand high impact, while the interior is a hollow core with four alcoves recessed into the spine of the pod. Straps lock your body and legs into place, and a roll cage closes over the alcove to keep you from getting flung around in the drop pod in case your straps snap or come loose.

The whole setup is a metal four-man coffin with high-speed rockets.

“Good. It’s been a hot minute since I climbed into one of these things.” Sierra says, clambering into the drop pod and yanking the hatch shut behind her. The moment she does, the red lights on the cramped interior click on. “I set our drop point for the street outside the Sanctuary. Hopefully nobody’s standing there when we arrive, because we’ll be coming in hot.”

“I’m pretty sure the sound of a massive sardine can punching through the atmosphere will give them a heads up.” I say as Sierra starts strapping into the alcove beside me, and pulls her roll cage down over top of herself. “What’s our time to arrival?”

“Nine minutes, roundabouts. You ready?”

“No, but let’s do it anyway.” I say, reaching up and getting a good hold on the grip bars  near my head.

“Alright, here we go.” Sierra say, entering her authorization code and confirming the launch. A countdown from ten appears on her screen; I make sure to close my teeth together, so I don’t end up biting my tongue. The latches on the drop pod release at five seconds, and once it hits zero, the drop pod is sent racing down the launch tube.

Even with the inertial dampeners, the pressure is immense. It’s starting to fade a little by the time we clear the tube, but the pod’s jets kick on a second later, and the pressure starts anew, making it feel like all my organs are cramming upwards towards my head.

“Hrrrrghgh.” I groan. “This is gonna be the longest nine minutes of my life.”

“That’s what I told Luci last night.” Sierra grunts back at me.

“I don’t understand how you can be horny even when we’re hurtling through the void of space in a rocket-powered sardine can.” I say, my teeth still gritted from the acceleration pressure.

“Better than repressing it, like you do.”

“I’m not repressed.”

“You’re repressed, and you let Kiwi bully you. You need to assert dominance, not let her push you around. She doesn’t want someone that’ll fold under pressure; she wants someone that’ll stand their ground when they get pushed. That’s why she’s hanging time with that wolfboy Maskling.”

“Do we really need to have this conversation during atmospheric reentry prior to a high-risk combat engagement?” I demand, wincing as I feel the drop pod start to shake and rattle. We’re starting to punch through the upper layers of Vinnei’s atmosphere.

“Are you kidding me? This is the best time for this conversation.” She pauses to grunt as the pilot thrusters start to fire along the side of the pod, straightening out our descent to keep us from going into a tumble. “You can’t evade me like you usually do because we’re both trapped in this tin can.”

“Well, for your information, my issues with Kiwi are more than just personality differences.” I retort. “And also for your information, I’m not interested in competing with Cahriu. That little spat with him a month ago was a lapse of judgement and it’s not going to happen again.”

“Pity. And here I’d thought you’d finally grown a spine.”

“A mature individual does not resolve emotional conflicts with violence.”

“You know what’s also not sexy? A sanctimonious goody two-shoes. I don’t care what those self-help books say, a woman likes a man that’ll fight for her. And personally speaking, as a woman, I find it hot as hell.”

“You’re not a normal, well-adjusted woman, Sierra.”

“Look, punk. I’m right and you’re wrong, and if you need proof, I’ve got thirteen thousand years of experience that says otherwise. You’re what, forty?”

“Forty-two.”

“Exactly. Forty-two and you’ve never been laid, so stow the sass and respect your elders that have.”

“You’re seriously pulling the age card?”

“Damn straight I’m pulling age rank. I haven’t survived a hundred and thirty centuries just so I can take shit from little baby vampires that think they have moral authority.”

“I never said that.”

“It was implied.”

I don’t respond right away, mostly because she’s sorta right, and also because it’s hard to carry this conversation over the rattling and booming of the pod punching through successive layers of atmosphere. “…alright, I’ll admit it was implied. But still. My personal relationships are none of your business.”

“They’re totally my business. I’m the one that has to put up with your moping and bitching.” she fires back. “So let’s get down there so you can show her why you’re so much better than that sycophantic mutt that’s always riding her ass. We’ve finished atmospheric entry, so hang tight. The main thrusters are about to kick on.”

Rather than snap back a retort at her, I tighten my fingers around the grips bars once more as the roar of the thrusters fills the pod. I can feel the angle of the pod start to adjust as the trajectory puts us on track to our final landing point; though the pressure isn’t as intense, it’s still there. Up on the wall of the pod, a ticker flashes on, showing us our altitude, quickly decreasing as we close in on landing point. As we pass the thousand-foot mark, aerogel bags deploy within our alcoves to help cushion us against impact, and the brake thrusters begin to fire, slowing the rate at which the altitude is falling.

We’re still going to shatter the ground when we land, though.

In the last two hundred feet, I close my eyes and teeth again, bracing for the final impact. When it comes, it feels like a car crash on the highway; even with the aerogel bags and the inertial dampeners, I’m still thrown forward against the straps holding me in place. For once I’m glad that I’m a vampire and I rarely eat anything; I think I might’ve been sick if there was anything in my stomach.

“Hoo boy, forgot how that felt.” Sierra grunts from her alcove as the aerogel bags start to deflate. “That’s why they tell you not to eat before you get into one of these things.”

“Yeah.” I groan, swatting away the cushioning bags around me and fumbling for the roll cage’s release latch. Once I find and yank it, the roll cage clunks open and retreats upwards, and I start to loosening the straps holding me in. “Feels like I’m gonna fall over if I try to stand.”

Sierra kicks and shoves her way out of her alcove, and as my sense of balance starts to come back to me, I realize we’ve landed at a slant, based on how she’s clambering around the pod. “Get moving, Feroce, we’re on the clock here.” she says as the starts fumbling for the pod release. “If the Masklings stuck to their timetable, they’ll have been on the surface for five minutes now. We’ll need to play catchup and hope they’re still alive.”

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” I say, pushing up out of my alcove and crouching at the base of it, getting my senses together. Reaching into my longcoat, I pull out my stunner and power it on, setting the discharge to max. “Right, let’s go.”

Sierra yanks the release lever, and there’s a loud hiss as the four hatches of the drop pod lift open, letting in a flood of overcast light. As they clank to the ground, Sierra yanks her rifle off her back, lunging out onto the street, and I leap out after her, finding my feet on the ruptured asphalt around the drop pod. The sky overhead is covered in clouds, and we’re standing in front of a Maskling Sanctuary on a street that’s been cordoned off; police vehicles have blocked the traffic in either direction, and a couple of CURSE troop transports sit within the perimeter, their ramps down and their payload disbursed. Ahead of us, the doors of the Sanctuary have been turned into a gaping hole that looks like it’s large enough for Blockchain to have muscled his way through.

And around us, the local police have pulled their weapons and have taken cover behind their cars, while the CURSE operatives left behind to guard the troop transports are moving in on us, shouting to drop our weapons.

“Oh, that’s not good.” I mutter, crouching down and keeping my stunner lowered so they won’t start shooting. “I’ve got like… fifteen or twenty over here on the right.”

“Same over here on the left.” Sierra says. “Alright, you’re up. Do it!”

“Do what?!” I hiss at her. “All I’ve got is a stunner, I couldn’t shoot all of them if I tried!”

“What?! Didn’t you get amped?” she demands, looking over her shoulder at me. “Oh what the hell! Gods damnit, Feroce, you’re a sonic sorcerer! Why don’t you have your earbuds in?”

“I didn’t think we’d be dealing with fifty hostiles on arrival!” I hiss back at her.

“That’s the worst goddamn excuse I’ve heard in the last fifteen years!” she growls, slinging her rifle across her back again. “If you’ve got the yips, just admit it! I’ll only be a little bit disappointed that you can’t get it up!”

“It’s been a while since I got amped. I might be a little rusty and I haven’t really had the chance to get back into the swing of things in a more controlled environment.” I growl back at her. “Why are you putting away your gun?”

“We can’t shoot our way out of this and you’re not going to wipe the board, so I’m dropping smoke to get us into the building.” she snaps, grabbing a grenade off her bandolier and yanking the pin out, then throwing it down. The cloudy explosion sets my longcoat snapping in the blast as it races past me, and I kick off the ground, sprinting in the direction that the Sanctuary’s stairs were in. I can hear Sierra’s bootsteps moving in the same direction, and shouting on either side of the smoke cloud as officers and operatives shout to hold their fire, wary of hitting each other if they start shooting blind into the smoke. I almost trip over the stairs when they come into view, but I manage to catch myself and go lunging up them to the front of the Sanctuary, leaving the cloud behind at the same time that Sierra does.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” I demand as we finish cresting the stairs and bolt for the gaping hole where the doors used to be.

“Step one: get in.” Sierra says, yanking her rifle off her back as we hurtle into the lobby of the Sanctuary. “Step two: kick ass.” Raising her rifle, she strafes the CURSE operative left to guard the entrance to the courtyard beyond the lobby, and I raise my stunner, nailing the other operative with a pulse. It staggers him, but his power armor disperses some of the blast, so I fire another couple of times until he drops.

“Getting in and kicking ass is all good and well, but we need an actual plan.” I say, starting around the dais of statues in the center of the lobby. There’s a bit of structural damage in here, but not a lot; it doesn’t seem like this Sanctuary had enough advance notice to put up much of a fight. I can hear amplified shouting echoing through the halls as CURSE operatives storm other parts of the building, telling the remaining occupants to get on the floor or up against the walls, with their hands in the air. “If there’s a battle still going on here, then it’s already lost. We need to find Kiwi and the Mask Knights, and extract before we’re overrun and captured.”

“Well, whatever the plan is, we better do it quick.” Sierra says, staggering as a plasma bolt splashes across her shoulder, her armor sizzling as she whirls around. The CURSE operatives left to guard the transports have followed us, taking up positions on the porch outside and against the hole in the wall. “I’ll bring up the rear and hold them at bay. You take point and find your frenemy with benefits.”

“Please refrain from commentary on my relationships while we’re in life and death situations.” I reply tartly, running again as Sierra takes cover behind the dais of statues, unpinning an incendiary grenade and lobbing it towards the entrance where the CURSE operatives are. Running to the courtyard, where I can hear the sound of stone being smashed around, I skid through just in time to take cover behind a column as a spray of rubble pelts the left corner of the courtyard.

Glancing around the column, I can see Blockchain swinging his massive cubic flail around, making no qualm of demolishing the statues in the courtyard. As I watch, he grabs another one, snapping it off its pedestal and hurling it at Kiwi, who’s looking a little worse for wear. She dodges out of the way, a green tether shooting out from the rune circles around her wrist and wrapping around the statue. Green circles print themselves on the ground around her feet as she grabs the tether with both hands, then leans back, drawing it tight and slinging it in a wide arc back towards Blockchain.

The towering demolition robot raises one of his massive arms, the statue breaking across the armor and forcing him to take a backwards step as Kiwi staggers and gasps, bracing herself on her knees. In that moment I can see that she’s not doing too well; blood is running down the side of her face from where she’s taken a head hit, and her jacket is ripped and battered, bloody in some places. Looking around the courtyard, I can see that flowerbeds and statues have been torn up and destroyed, and there’s a familiar outline of white power armor sitting on a pile of rubble that fell from one wall of the courtyard. I can recognize the way the yellow sash is wrapped around the shoulders and waist, along with the staff leaned back against the shoulder, with the point of yellow light burning within the mace-like tip.

It’s Prophet, and he’s just sitting there watching Kiwi and Blockchain go at it like he’s got all the time in the world and nothing better to do.

That’s not a good sign. If Prophet’s just sitting there, it probably means there’s no other major resistance in the building, or if there is, he’s confident that the CURSE operatives can handle it. I don’t see any signs of the other Mask Knights here in the courtyard, so they’re either dead or still fighting in some other part of the Sanctuary. Without support from a couple dozen mercs from the Accatria, Sierra and I won’t be able to take back the Sanctuary, and even if we could, I’m not sure what the benefit would be. This wasn’t like the last Sanctuary, which was being attacked by a rabid mob — this is a raid by an armed and trained organization that’s recognized as a legitimate authority by the galactic governing body.

The sound of wheezing off to the side catches my attention, and I glance to the side to see Cahriu slumped a couple columns down, also looking worse for wear. He doesn’t appear to be physically injured, but he’s very pale, and his breathing appears labored. Dashing over, I slide to a halt beside him, looking him over; he’s got a couple scrapes and scorches here and there, but otherwise he seems fine. He is clutching his left arm, though, and I can see the runemarks around his wrist burning with a bright crimson light.

“I hope they sent more than just you.” he wheezes at me. “You’re good and I’ll admit you kicked my ass, but you’re not that good.”

“It’s not just me.” I say, moving around to his left side. “They sent the Lieutenant Commander as well. She’s holding the lobby, but we’re not here to fight. We’re going to gather up Kiwi and the others, and extract from here using the Featherfell. Where are the others?”

“Not sure.” he grunts, one of his furred ears flicking at the sound of Blockchain’s flail taking out another column. “Kiwi sent them to try and get the civilians out of the building. She and I were going to keep the Peacekeepers busy while they did that.”

“Great.” I mutter. There’s a pressure thud that rushes through the courtyard as Kiwi releases a massive displacement ripple that shoves Blockchain back a few yards, and Cahriu’s mouth drops open as he tenses up. His hands close into fists, and I can see crimson fracture lines start to creep above his collar, along his neck. Reaching down, I yank his sleeve up to see a second ring of runes around his wrist — Kiwi’s runemarks, with familiar fissure trails winding up his arm. As he gasps for breath, I grab his shirt and yank it back to see those same fissure trails have run all the way up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck, and down across his left pectoral.

If this was the first mission he’d gone on with Kiwi, that meant that those fissure marks had all happened within the last thirty minutes. Either Kiwi was using him up way faster than she was burning through me, or he had a far lower tolerance for her demands than I did. Regardless of which one it was, I could see those marks were spiraling inwards to where his heart would be, and I didn’t want to think about what would happen if they progressed that far.

I let go of his shirt to meet his orange eyes. “She’s gonna kill you if you stay tangled with her.” I warn him softly.

“That’s part of the job.” he wheezes, trying to push himself up against the column with his other hand. “I knew what I signed up for.”

“You knew, but you weren’t ready for it.” I say, looking down to the wrist that has Kiwi’s runemarks on it. Though I want to be angry at him for fooling around with Kiwi, right now all I can feel for him is pity, seeing the condition he’s in, and knowing it’s a result of biting off more than he could chew. He probably thought he could handle her, and the reality check he’s getting right now could be a fatal one. “And I’ve been doing this for a while. I know when someone’s ready to die, and you’re not ready to die.”

“Don’t have time to be chatting about this.” he grunts. “Stop throwing a pity party and go help her.”

“I’m not going to leave you to die.” I say, holding my hand out to him. “Give me her runemarks.”

He looks down at my hand. “She’s just going to do the same thing to you that she’s doing to me, and all of her other handlers. She’s going to kill you just like she kills the rest of us. You aren’t special.”

“Maybe not.” I admit. “But you’re not ready to die, and I can handle her longer and better than you can.”

He looks at me again, then grits his teeth and takes my hand. “You’re such a goddamn hero.” he mutters as Kiwi’s runemarks lift off his wrist, spinning down our linked arms until they’ve reached the runemarks on my wrist, and match to them, rune for rune. “Don’t come crying to me when she eats you alive.”

“If I’ve got a problem with her, I’ll take it up with her.” I say as the glowing runes on my wrist switch from scarlet to blue. The black fissure marks on my left arm burn to life as I let go of his hand and stand up, looking around the column to see Blockchain’s got Kiwi pinned down in the middle of the courtyard. She’s got a dome of green light up above herself, bracing it with her forearms as Blockchain hammers it over and over again with his flail. Cracks are spreading across it with every hit.

“Try not to die before we clean up here.” I say, dropping my stunner in his lap. Getting a running start, I sprint out into the courtyard, hoping Prophet doesn’t care enough to try and stop me right now.

Time to take a second crack at talking Blockchain down.

Event Log: Kiwi

Habinshard Quill Sanctuary: Courtyard

3:35pm SGT

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

The thought goes through my head as Blockchain’s massive cube slams down on my shield again. Little cracks appear at the top, and I grit my teeth. My connection to Cahriu has disappeared; the power flowing through our link had been weakening for a while, but now it was just gone. Usually there was a final burst at the end right before my handler’s soul collapsed on itself, but his had sputtered out, which was even more pathetic than I’d been expecting. Normally I’d just be irritated, but without him fueling me, I couldn’t go toe-to-toe with Blockchain anymore.

Which was a big problem.

My legs quiver as Blockchain’s flail slams into my shield again. The edges of it dig into the courtyard stones around me as the cracks spread a little further, and I look around, trying to get a sense of where I can run if I need to retreat. Prophet’s still sitting on his pile of rubble, staff leaned against his shoulder and his hands wrapped around it like some power-armored shepherd watching his herd. Normally I wouldn’t be scared of dying, but I know Prophet’s a Mask-smasher. If I die here, he’s going to take my Mask and bust it into pieces, killing me for good. In fact, that’s probably what he’s waiting for.

Blockchain’s flail slams into my shield again, chips of stone flying as the edges of my shield are pounded into the courtyard floor a couple more inches. One of my legs gives, bending at the knee; I take a second to adjust my stance and brace a bit more. I knew it’d been a bad move to come down here and try to take on these two by myself, but in my defense, it’s not like we’d had much of an option — if we had waited to rendezvous with the Challengers, then CURSE would’ve completed their raid of the Sanctuary and assumed control of the building. I figured that we could at least slow them down long enough for the Challengers to get some of their mercenaries down here.

Considering that reinforcements haven’t arrived yet, I realize I might’ve pushed Songbird a little too hard.

I grit my teeth as the flail slams into my shield again, my leg buckling again as I’m forced down to one knee. It was stupid, and I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help but take that parting shot at him. At best I should’ve asked for help, and at worst, I shouldn’t have said anything, but he’s been so stubborn over the past month and a half, and it’s pissed me off. I know I need to apologize to him, but just the thought of admitting I was wrong makes me feel like I’m going to burst into fire out of embarrassment.

Still, that’s preferable to getting killed, if only just barely.

I gasp a breath as Blockchain’s flail slams into my shield again, the cracks reaching nearly to the edge of the dome. I can’t keep doing this; I’m going to need to retreat before the next hit. I hate admitting defeat, but Cahriu didn’t last nearly as long as I thought he would, and I can’t take on two Peacekeepers without a handler to back me up. As Blockchain starts to drag his flail around for another swing, I put one of my hands against the ground, getting ready to bolt.

Then I feel a lighter pressure on my shield, and I look up to see Songbird skidding by overhead, sliding across the top of my shield to land on the ground between me and Blockchain.

“Wait, wait! Hold up!” he shouts, putting his hands up to Blockchain. “You remember me, right? From the museum on Valcorria?”

Blockchain freezes in place, in the midst of yanking the chain of his flail. The digital red eyes within the recessed visor of the helm don’t show any sign of recognition, but after a moment, the arms lower from over the hulking robot’s domelike head.

“Yeah, that’s right. You remember me.” Songbird says, lowering his arms. “Been a while, hasn’t it? We haven’t really talked since that little, uh, encounter at the museum. No hard feelings about that, by the way.”

I can’t believe this. He’s still trying to make friends with this thing.

“You seek an accord with a being that lacks the intelligence to comprehend it.” comes Prophet’s digitized voice, the first time he’s spoken so far. “And even if it could, it would know better than to ally itself to your profane crusade.”

“Yeah, well maybe he just needs someone that actually treats him well.” Songbird snaps back at Prophet, before returning his attention to Blockchain. “So, uh, yeah. Good to see you again. I know this might be asking a lot, but could you please not kill my friend back here? I’ll be the first to admit that she needs some kindness clobbered into her, but—”

“Hey!” I shout indignantly, letting my shield evaporate as I stagger back to my feet.

“Look, pardon my language, but you have been a major bitch recently!” he hisses over his shoulder. “I came down here to help you, so put a cork in it and let me deescalate this!”

“I already told you, I don’t need your help!” I hiss back at him.

“A deluded assertion, in my professional opinion.” Prophet lazily observes from his post.

“Look, buster, this is an A and B conversation, and you need to C your way out of it.” I snarl at Prophet.

“You’re getting my help whether you like it or not.” Songbird says to me. “I didn’t come all this way just to watch you get rolled. Prophet, I’ll get to you in just a sec. I’ve got some choice words for you.”

“By all means. I’ve nowhere to be anytime soon.” Prophet replies coolly.

I wipe a hand across the side of my face, trying to clear some of the blood there and rub it off on my jeans as Songbird turns back to Blockchain. “Look, big guy. These people that live in this place haven’t done anything wrong—”

“We don’t house people in Sanctuaries.” I say flatly.

Songbird gives me the stink eye over his shoulder before going on. “—the people that make regular use of this building haven’t done anything wrong. They’re just trying to live their lives, and CURSE is raiding this place on a lie.”

“CURSE dispatched this platoon to investigate the report of this Sanctuary harboring a Challenger.” Prophet calls, lifting a hand to motion to Songbird. “Lo and behold, we find a Challenger within these walls. Our assay is justified.”

“That’s like sending the fire truck and claiming they were responding to a smoke alarm after they set a fire.” Songbird snaps at Prophet, then looks back to Blockchain. “You don’t have to take orders from CURSE. They’re taking advantage of you—”

Songbird’s interrupted when Blockchain reaches out with one of his massive hands, the colossal fingers curling around him. He starts to bolt, trying to squirm loose, but it’s too late; Blockchain’s got a good grip on him, lifting him up and tossing him across the courtyard. It’s not an aggressive toss; more of a light, underhanded throw that you’d use when throwing your laundry into the hamper. Still, Songbird goes flying across the courtyard, hitting the wall and falling to the ground. After that, Blockchain turns back to me, his fingers clanking together into a brutal fist that he brings up over his head.

Alright, I’m done with diplomacy. Let’s kick some ass.

I feel the voice skim through my mind, along with a sudden surge of energy that has my runemarks flaring bright. Looking over to where Songbird fell, I can see an arm shoved up from behind one of the surviving flowerbeds, set of brilliant blue runes wrapped around the wrist. My heart skips a beat as I realize he must’ve stolen my runemarks from Cahriu and merged them with the ones I gave him.

He’s mine again.

Grinning, I snap my fingers, rune circles projecting out from my wrists; then I flick my thumbs out, catching the rune for weapon on each circle. All it takes is a thought for the rest of the runes to morph out into a green set of massive clockwork gauntlets around my own hands, their sheer size powered by Songbird’s soul. Swinging them up, I catch Blockchain’s fist as it comes down, holding it in place; slamming my foot against the ground, I project another rune circle around my boot, with the runes for strength and anchor enlargened. Tightening my grip around Blockchain’s fist, I twist in place and yank, aiming to fling him over my head.

And right onto Prophet.

Prophet doesn’t seem to realize what’s happening until it’s too late; it’s only when Blockchain’s in the air over my head that he starts fumbling for his staff, scrambling to get to his feet. I can’t see his face, since it’s covered by his helm, but his tone says it all as he jerks his staff up, a dome of yellow light forming over him. “Oh SHI—”

The rest of his panicked explanation is lost under the crash of Blockchain landing square on top of him. Prophet’s protective dome manages to hold, despite being caught under ten thousand pounds of metal; however, the courtyard stones beneath both of them end up pulverized as the weight of Blockchain crushes Prophet’s dome down into the ground, creating a divot in the earth. After a moment it shatters, Blockchain dropping another half-foot onto the ground as Prophet clangs his staff against the robot’s back. “Get up, you colossal rusty oaf! I’m trapped down here!”

I let my gauntlets fizzle out as I turn and run across the courtyard, dodging behind the flowerbed to find Songbird struggling to get up. Blood is staining the back of his head red and dripping down his neck, though it seems to be soaking into his skin whenever it touches it. Grabbing him under his arms, I help lift him up, and hold him steady. “Are you okay? Can you walk?”

He blinks a couple times, hanging onto my arms as he steadies himself, before his crimson irises lock onto me. I’m expecting him to give me some platitude or say something about needing to get going.

Instead, he clocks me square in the face with his free fist.

I stagger back, clutching my nose. “Ow! What the hell?!” I exclaim. It wasn’t a full-on punch, more like a light jab, but still.

“That’s for tangling with me, then tangling with that egotistical mutt and then sleeping with him!” he says as he finds his balance without me.

“What was I supposed to do?!” I demand, dabbing at my nose and finding there’s a little blood there. “I’m a Mask Knight! I needed to tangle with someone!”

“Okay, yeah, but you didn’t have to sleep with him!” he snaps. “Excuse me for being a little emotionally invested after you let yourself into my head, but I’m not okay with you rolling around with him, and if you can’t handle that, you shouldn’t have tangled with me!”

“Alright, well you could’ve told me that, instead of punching me in the face!” I protest.

“Oh really? Because recently it feels a lot like you don’t respect me and what I believe in, and you’ve taken every chance to mock me for it!” he retorts, walking up on me and locking eyes with me. “I’m goddamn tired of being manipulated and mocked, Kiwi. You’re not the first person that’s done it, that’s treated me like I wasn’t good enough for her, no matter how much I tried. It’s been fifteen years, but it still hurts just as much as it did the first time. So here’s the deal: I’ll tangle with you, and I’ll do my best to do what none of your past handlers could do. And in return, you will give me the respect I deserve when I’m risking my life to power you. You will treat me like a person and not someone you can walk all over and push around. If that’s how you’re going to treat me, you can go back to using other Masklings as disposable fuel cells. You got it?”

I take a couple steps back, staring at him in surprise. Even though it’s still Songbird, he feels different, no longer passive and patient. The fierce set of his brows, the assertive slant of his shoulders, the harsh ruby glare of his eyes — this is the Songbird everyone’s afraid of, the one that could’ve killed Nova. This is the Songbird that will push back when I push him, the one that could be my equal.

“Okay.” I say, dabbing at my nose again. “Yeah, okay. That’s… that’s fair. Alright. No tangling with anyone else while I’m tangled with you, got it.” Clearing my throat, I look away, then give him a quick glance. “So that really bothered you, did it? Me rolling around with Cahriu.”

“Don’t test me, Kiwi.” he growls, gingerly touching a hand to the back of his bloodstained head. “I don’t like it when people play with my emotions.”

“Yeah, no. I hear you. Completely fair.” I’ve heard what I wanted to hear. Even if he’s not directly admitting it, I know he’s attached. Very attached, if his reaction is any measure.

It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, but it’s gotten me what I wanted.

“If you two are done standing around, how about you get your asses in gear so we can get out of here!” comes a shout from the side of the courtyard. Both of us turn to see Sierra backing through the doorway, firing as she goes, then taking cover behind a column as someone returns fire with a couple of plasma bolts. Ejecting her empty spike cartridge, she yanks another one off her bandolier and jams it into her rifle. “CURSE sent a boatload of operatives for this raid; I’ve downed at least a half dozen and they’ve still got more, and I’m gonna run out of grenades and spike cartridges eventually, so…”

“Get up, you useless scrap heap!” Over in the corner of the courtyard, Blockchain is still struggling to get off his back and upright once more, with Prophet still clanging his staff against the demolition bot’s back. “What are you, a beetle that’s been flipped on its back? Use your arms and legs, Anaya damn it! Get on your feet, or I’ll blast you onto your feet!”

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about them.” I say, starting to jog towards Sierra. “Do you know if there’s anyone that still needs to be evacuated from the Sanctuary? I sent the other handlers to evacuate the building.”

“I’m not sure they’re alive, Kiwi.” Songbird calls, limping along behind me. “We only had time to get in the front door and through the foyer. We haven’t had the chance to check the rest of the building, and from what we could hear, the place is crawling with CURSE operatives. Do you have a way to contact the other Mask Knights?”

“I can try calling them.” I say, digging in my jacket for my phone as I get behind a column, while Sierra fires a couple more suppressing shots back through the doorway. “I know where we parked the Featherfell, but I’m not going to leave behind any of our Mask Knights. We can’t let CURSE get any hostage leverage.”

“I agree with that, but we don’t have time to play hide and seek. We need to jet while Blockchain and Prophet are still down.” Songbird says, moving past me and along the columns. “C’mon, Cahriu, let’s get you up.”

“Wait, Cahriu’s alive?” I ask, leaning around the column I’m behind. Sure enough, Cahriu’s slumped at few columns down, looking paler than the outside of a sushi roll. “What the hell! I thought you’d kicked the can with the way you sputtered out in the middle of the fight!”

“I took your runemarks off him before they killed him.” Songbird says, getting one of Cahriu’s arms over his shoulders and helping lift him up. “I don’t think he’ll be any use while we’re trying to get out of here.”

“I’m right here, y’know.” Cahriu rasps. “Kiwi, give me the phone. I’ll make the calls. You guys figure out how to get us out of here.”

“Be my guest.” I say, handing my phone over to him while it’s still dialing. Cahriu passes a stunner gun back to Songbird, before taking the phone. With my hands free, I snap another set of rune circles out around my wrists.

“Alright, jokes aside, we really need to go now.” Sierra shouts, jerking back around her column as a couple of plasma bursts eat away at the stone. “I’m running out of grenades, so unless you expect me to punch my way out of here, we need to get this show on the road!”

“Kiwi, we need to get to the Featherfell now. We’ll pick up who we can along the way, but we need to get out.” Songbird says as metal grinds against stone, a sign that Blockchain’s making some progress in getting back up. “If you take point getting there, I’ll keep you fueled. Just don’t push it too much.”

“Don’t worry, Blueberry, I know you can last longer than Cahriu can.” I say, moving past them and along the wall. “The Featherfell’s on the roof. We’ll need to hit the stairs, unless Cahriu can’t get up those. If that’s the case, we’ll have to take the elevator.”

“I can manage. Just a little dizzy, is all.” Cahriu says. “You said we’re going to rendezvous back at the Featherfell?”

“That’s the plan.” I say, charging a displacement ripple around my wrist as I reach one of the doors leading into the courtyard. After peeking through the glass to make sure no one’s in the hall on the other side, I open it and step through, moving for the nearest set of stairs. Skidding to a halt near them, I keep watch as Songbird helps Cahriu into the stairwell, while Sierra brings up the rear, yanking a smoke grenade off her bandolier and rolling it behind her. The consequent blast of smoke fills a good third of the courtyard, hiding us from the operatives that were coming through the doorway Sierra had been guarding.

“Alright, I’ve spoken with four of the five other handlers.” Cahriu grunts, his voice echoing in the stairwell as Songbird helps him up the stairs, with Sierra now taking point while I bring up the rear. “I’ve told them to meet on the roof and given them three minutes to do so. Two of them are down in the tunnels, helping get out some of the Quills and Masklings that were in the Sanctuary when CURSE arrived. I told those two to keep doing that and help oversee the escape.”

“We can circle back around and pick them up later, if we need.” I say as we clear the first flight. “Though if you ask me—”

“We’re not staying to fight CURSE.” Songbird says. “We don’t have the support for it, and Dussel’s not going to risk his mercs trying to get a transport past the Justice. I understand that it stings to let CURSE have their way with one of your Sanctuaries, but we’re not going to win this one unless we’re willing to spill some blood for it, and the gain wouldn’t be worth it.”

I narrow my eyes at him as he rounds another flight of stairs to the next floor. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what we store here at Sanctuaries.”

“Is it worth someone’s life or the lives of multiple people?” Songbird replies without slowing down.

“Subjectively speaking…” I mutter.

“Less chatting about moral relativism, more stair climbing!” Sierra shouts down the stairwell. “My grandma could hike these stairs faster than you lot and she’s been dead for the last thirteen thousand years!”

“Your grandma isn’t hauling a cripple!” Songbird shouts back up her.

“I didn’t ask to get pulled into this conversation.” Cahriu groans, holding my phone back to me.

I take it and slip it back into my jacket, and it’s that momentary pause that keeps me from walking right into a plasma bolt hurtling up from the lower levels of the stairwell. Glancing down, I can see the telltale white gleam of a CURSE operative’s power armor moving on the bottom floor. Taking the steps three at a time, I reach Songbird and Cahriu and plant hands on both of their backs. “Go go go we got company!”

“Alright Cahriu, we’re gonna need to pick up the pace here.” Songbird grunts, starting to move faster, almost dragging Cahriu up the stairs with him. “Vampires don’t like getting hit with plasma. Burn damage takes longer for us to heal.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Legs are still a little shaky.” Cahriu wheezes, struggling to get his footing on the stairs. It looks like he’s trying, but he’s missing most of them whenever he tries to step. I grab the back of Cahriu’s jacket, trying to help lift him up the stairs a little faster, but a clang and the sensation of heat on my jacket has me twisting around. Beside me a portion of the railing has been hit by a plasma bolt, with the bar melting and flecks of molten metal splashed on my sleeve, which has started to catch fire. Down below, I can see the outline of more CURSE operatives spilling into the stairwell, with the ones at the bottom pausing to take shots at us, while the others sprint up the stairs.

“Get ready, Blueberry, I’m ‘boutta start sendin’ fools!” I shout as I pause on the stairwell and aim my arm back down the stairwell. I charge the displacement ripple a bit more before releasing it; the air down the center of the stairwell distorts, the two operatives at the bottom folding to the ground as the ripple hits them. Their partial power armor probably cushions most of the impact, because they’re trying to get back to their feet as the operatives on the stairwell pause to start strafing my position.

Looks like I’ll just have to hit them harder.

Using my remaining rune circle to bring up a hexpanel shield, I use it to block incoming plasma bolts while my other rune circle recharges. Above me on the stairwell, Sierra has reached the fire exit to the roof, and Songbird and Cahriu are about half a flight behind her. The CURSE operatives are gaining on us; one of them is about to turn the corner onto the flight I’m on, and she’s bringing her rifle up.

“Alright Blueberry, here we go!” I shout back up the stairwell as pat out the fire on my sleeve and reach back across our entanglement with my mind. It’s easy to find his soul, that dense little star of determination and hope, and I sink myself into it, feeling power flood back across our link. My rune circle burns a nova green as I turn and point my arm back down the stairs, releasing a massive displacement ripple that slams the operative back against the wall, blasting her clear through it and taking a sizable chunk of the wall with her. The building shudders, and the operatives further down on the stairwell all pause out of an abundance of caution.

Being as I don’t have that luxury, I twist about and go sprinting back up the stairs to catch up to the others.

By the time I reach the fire exit, Sierra’s out on the roof, while Songbird and Cahriu are just now staggering through the door. Pushing past them, I pelt towards the seemingly empty landing pad on the roof, running around its edge until the Featherfell’s ramp comes into view, as if the air itself was gaping open. “Over here!” I shout to the others. “Make sure you walk around the edge of the pad, or you’ll knock yourself out on one of the wings!”

“This is why I don’t like cloaked ships.” Sierra mutters as she covers Songbird and Cahriu, lifting her rifle and starting to squeeze off intermittent bursts of coilgun spikes at the CURSE operatives arriving to the fire exit. “Move it along, they’re catching up and we got no cover out here!”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not hauling the deadweight.” Songbird says as he comes around the edge of the pad and lets Cahriu slide off his shoulder and onto the ramp. “Nothing personal, Cahriu, but you can handle yourself from here. I’m going to help Sierra hold the roof for as long as possible.”

“Entirely fair.” Cahriu grunts as he does his best to start dragging himself up the ramp.

The sound of a door being blasted open catches my attention, and I turn to see one of my handlers exiting a maintenance stairwell with a few other Masklings in tow. “Over here!” I shout, pointing to the back end of the pad as I start moving across the roof. “You’ll see it once you get to the back end of the pad. Get in, help Cahriu up the ramp, and start prepping her for takeoff!”

“I can’t do this forever, guys!” Sierra shouts as the crackle of coilgun spikes turns into a dry clicking as her magazine runs out. The operatives she’d kept suppressed notice that she’s run out of ammo, and suddenly surge out of the fire exit, streaking the rooftop with plasma bolts. I jerk my hexpanel shield up, while Sierra ducks and weaves, getting knocked flat as a couple of bolts slam into her. Songbird comes around the landing pad, his stunner up and firing; even though he nails several of the operatives dead on, it only staggers them as the blasts are buffered by their power armor.

“I don’t think we can wait any longer, Kiwi! We need to retreat!” Songbird shouts, making his way towards Sierra as she struggles to get up, smoke drifting from where the bolts have scorched her armor and melted the plating. Songbird's hooded longcoat is starting to sizzle and melt as more and more plasma bursts hammer it; he’s an easy target out here in the open, and it won’t be long before those bolts begin to burn through his coat’s combat weave.

I don’t like admitting it, but I think he’s right. It’s time to cut our losses and go. 

“Get her up! I’ll cover you!” I shout back at him, starting to make my way towards them. As I go, I block a couple of bolts with my shield while I charge a displacement ripple with my other hand; once it’s ready, I sling it at one of the operatives standing near the edge of the roof. it catches him dead on, somersaulting him off the roof; a moment later, there’s a nasty, three-story thud that seems somewhat muted by the armor he’s wearing.

He’ll survive. I think.

That has gotten the attention of the other operatives, however. The number of plasma bolts coming my way starts to ramp up, and I duck down behind my shield as much as I can as I keep moving towards Songbird and Sierra. Before I reach them, Sierra rolls over on her side, spitting out a pin as she chucks a grenade towards the part of the roof where the most operatives are. “Get dunked on, scrubs!” she shouts as Songbird grabs her and starts dragging her across the roof.

The nearest operatives dive away as the grenade explodes, caving in a section of the roof. Some of them don’t dive far enough, and fall into the hole that’s formed; the other operatives take a break from strafing us to put some distance between themselves and the compromised section of the roof. Catching up to Songbird and Sierra, I put myself between them and the operatives as we retreat back along the roof. The moment we round the corner of the landing pad, I turn and help Songbird grab Sierra, dragging her up the ramp and into the Featherfell.

“Alright, close the ramp and let’s get up!” I shout through the cabin and into the cockpit.

“What about the others?” the handler calls back from the pilot’s seat.

“We don’t have time to wait for them, we need to go!” Songbird shouts back, pulling his stunner and shooting an operative that’s rounding the corner of the landing pad. It takes three stunner blasts to get through the armor and put him down; still, my handler doesn’t do anything, looking to me for confirmation.

“You heard him, get it in the air!” I order, before a shower of sparks has me ducking. A plasma bolt’s struck the inside of the cabin as another operative rounds the corner; lifting my arm, I sling my hexpanel shield down the ramp, clipping him in the shoulder. Songbird fires his stunner another couple of times, but it gives a little ffzzt sound on the second shot, indicating it’s run out of charge. The operative is still standing, and another one is coming around the corner of the landing pad, so I lunge forward and grab the hood of Songbird’s longcoat. Yanking him backwards, I get my other arm around his waist and yank both of us to the floor and out of the way of another couple of plasma bolts, one of which shatters one of the cabin lights.

Then the Featherfell’s thrusters fire, and we start to lift off into the air as the ramp begins to close up, cutting off our view of the Sanctuary’s roof.

I don’t move as the floor of the cabin tilts, and we go into a sharp ascent. There’s thuds from below, muted and dull as plasma bolts slam into the underside of the skipper; more likely than not, the operatives on the roof are blind-firing at something they can’t really see. It doesn’t matter; they won’t be able to stop us now that we’re in the air.

Then I feel Songbird shift, and I realize I’m still hanging onto him.

I quickly let go, pushing away from him. The smell of melted metal coming off his longcoat is strong, and in the uneven light of the cabin, I can see there’s a lot of scorch damage on the exterior and the sleeves. The light gleams weakly off patches where the metallic threadweave has been melted together into layers of brittle metal and fabric, but it seems to have done its job — Songbird himself seems to be fine.

Although I’m sure it’s a different story underneath the left arm of his jacket.

“Everybody strapped in?” I ask as I lean against the slant of the floor, looking past him to the chairs in the cabin. The Masklings we rescued from the Sanctuary are buckled in their seats and look relieved now that we’re finally in the air; Cahriu is in the seat in the corner, looking like he’s about to pass out, but at he’s alive. Sierra’s lying on her back on the floor, holding her side where one of the plasma bolts managed to nail her.

There’s a rustle as Songbird rolls over and starts to push to his knees, glaring at me. “You shouldn’t have—”

I reach up and put a hand over his mouth, gently. I know what he’s about to say: that I shouldn’t have rushed down here, that this whole thing was a mess that cost us more than what we gained from it… and he’s right. I moved too quickly, didn’t listen to good sense, and in the end, CURSE was still going to get what they came for. Us coming down here didn’t change that; it just forced CURSE to play a price in blood for what they were after.

But we’d at least been able to slow them up long enough to get some of our people out through the tunnels and evacuate some of the others with that. I tilt my head towards those Masklings sitting in the cabin now. “I know I acted without thinking. But I’m glad you came after me, and they are too.”

He looks around to see the Masklings watching us, and I can see the anger fade from him as he realizes that he saved people from CURSE. And even if the big picture looked bad, these people would still be thankful someone had come and gotten them out. That was especially true of Cahriu, who probably would’ve died if Songbird hadn’t taken my runemarks from him.

Songbird blows out a long breath as a sigh, nodding and then giving a rueful smile to the other Masklings. “Just doin’ the only thing I know how to do.” he murmurs with the low modesty of someone easily flustered by praise. He reaches out to slap Sierra’s boot in an effort to get the attention off him. “You okay, Lieutenant?”

Sierra grunts as she tries to push herself up on her free arm. “They tried to shoot me in the goddamn tits!” she exclaims, pointing to a hole in her chestplate. “Look at this! They couldn’t’ve aimed for my legs or my face or something? No, had to be the tits! Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been wearing power armor?”

Songbird stares at her, then looks back to me. “Yeah, she’s okay.”

I snort in amusement, pressing a knuckle to my lips. “I mean, as a woman myself, she’s got a point…”

“Oh hush, yours are so small they could barely count as target practice.” Sierra scoffs, leaning back on her elbow.

I gape at her. “Excuse you—”

“I’m removing myself from this conversation now.” Songbird grunts, getting to his feet and taking step before stopping and holding a hand out to me. “Wanna come with?”

It’s a small thing, but that invitation sets my heart racing. I know it’s just an offer to help me get to my feet, but it feels like it could mean more than just this moment.

“Yeah.” I say, reaching up and taking his hand. “I think I do.”