Valiant

[Valiant #25: Ember]

Log Date: 2/23/12764

Data Sources: Kiwi, Feroce Acceso, Luci

Event Log: Kiwi

The Cradle: Sector 2 Inner Ring Access Bridge

4:59pm SGT

“Alright, that should be everyone!” Tarocco hisses to me as Cahriu limps out from the shadow of the falling bridge. “He needs to get out from under there before it’s too late!”

“Songbird!” I shout. “Everyone’s out, get your stupid hero ass out of there!”

He looks up when I shout his name, and I can see the twin stars in his eyes, hot blue and steady bright. But the rest of his body is shaking, and in that instant I realize the amount of strain he must be under, holding up hundreds of thousands of tons of crumbling bridge. And when his shoulders slump, I realize that now that everyone’s safe, he no longer has the strength to keep holding it up.

The Spark in his eyes winks out, and the bridge collapses.

I sprint towards him as the rest of the wreckage starts to fall, but Blockchain moves before I do, lurching forward with startling speed. He lets go of the anchor chain, swinging both of his arms forward to hook under the slab of bridge that’s about to crush Songbird. The end of it still hits the ground, but it hangs at a slant, the other end held up by Blockchain’s arms, creaking and groaning underneath the weight. I don’t even speak, pelting into the dust and going into a slide underneath the slab, flaring my wristmarks to life as I do so.

Even by the green glow, it’s hard to see anything in the dust. I feel along the ground, moving in the direction I last saw Songbird; I have to move for several yards like this before my hands wander over one of his arms. Grabbing it, I set my heels to the ground and start pushing backwards, scooting back the way I came, foot by agonizing foot until we emerge from underneath the slab again. Cahriu and Midnatt are there, grabbing Songbird and helping me pull him across the ground, and once he’s clear, Blockchain lets the slab drop, slamming to the ground with a crushing thud.

“Is he okay?” Ridge says, rushing over and kneeling next to us, with Renchiko close behind. “There’s still a hole in his chest! Is he alive?”

“He’s a vampire; he will be fine.” Valkyrie says, rolling him over. “His body is intact; it just needs blood to reconstitute. I don’t know how much he still has in his system, though. Sierra, do you have any you can spare?”

“Yeah, I’ve always got my flask with me.” she says, coming over and lifting her arms. “Inside pocket in my jacket. Someone else will have to grab it; I can’t reach it with my hands cuffed like this.”

“Same; these are really getting in the way.” Valkyrie says, before her eyes fall on me. “Kiwi, can you grab Sierra’s flask, then start getting cuffs off people? You’re the only with your hands free at the moment.”

I look up from where I’d been wiping the dust off Songbird’s cold face. He’s pale and unconscious; I don’t want to leave him right now. All I want to do is hold him close and breathe, watch the wound in his chest slowly heal and stay by him until he wakes up.

“I can free you from your cuffs.” At the voice, we turn to see the air shimmering to reveal Sol, padding towards us on all fours. She reaches into her cloak, pulling out what looks like a keycard. “I have been following the column. I stole some things from one of their higher officers while they were distracted during the battle.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Cahriu sighs as Sol starts unlocking everyone’s cuffs. “This’ll make things much easier.”

“We are still not in a good position.” Tarocco says, rubbing her wrists as her cuffs come off. “Dussel still has the command key, the way to the hangar is blocked by this collapsed bridge, we have no equipment or manpower now that Dussel has betrayed us, and CURSE is going to be regrouping and coming back for us eventually. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“It’ll be fine if we can get Songbird awake and send him after them.” Sierra says, pulling out her flask once she’s uncuffed. “And Luci is on the loose, and can manifest practically anywhere on the Accatria. If he needs to, he can sabotage it to keep it from leaving without us.”

“How did he do that? He kept the entire bridge from falling!” Ridge says, watching as Sierra rips the hole in Songbird’s shirt open, then starts carefully pouring blood around it. You can see the organs and muscle slowly starting to regrow, and even though it’s agonizingly slow, it’s still fast if you consider that it’d normally take weeks or months for something like this to heal.

“He’s got a Spark.” Valkyrie says, checking over the rest of Songbird. “They’re very rare, and hard to control, but when they go active, they are extremely powerful. Jack has one too, but hers usually registers as prescience, strength or speed.”

“Well geez, why didn’t he use it earlier?” Ridge asks, rubbing his wrists once they’re uncuffed. “Would’ve been pretty useful when they ambushed us in the reactor tower!”

“He probably can’t control it, and he didn’t want to put you and Renchiko at risk.” Valkyrie says, getting her teeth into the hem of her labcoat and starting to rip it as she moves over to Renchiko. Tearing a strip off, she starts to tie off some of the gashes that Renchiko is bleeding from. “And speaking of risk, what you did was reckless and could’ve gotten people killed, Kiwi. I understand you were frustrated, but you should not have endangered everyone’s lives like that. The way you attacked the column injured some of us almost as much as it injured the CURSE operatives.”

“I did what I had to. It got us free; that’s all that matters.” I retort as I stand up, somewhat shakily. Now that I know Songbird’s going to be sorta okay, I turn to Blockchain, who’s been watching us silently. “So you’re on our side now, then?”

His domed head swivels to stare at me. The red eyes in the visual display are no longer downtilted, showing an absence of aggression. But it’s hard to tell what’s going through that rusty head when he never says anything.

“Hey big guy, can you guard the bridge and make sure nobody comes over?” Cahriu asks Blockchain. “Or like. At least warn us? I’d get it if you didn’t want to fight them.”

Blockchain’s head swivels towards Cahriu. After a moment, he starts to turn around, lumbering in place until he’s facing back towards the collapsed bridge, and picks up the anchor chain of his flail again.

“Guess that’s a yes.” Tarocco says, then turns to look around at our group. “Right, so what’s the plan? We need to figure out what we’re going to do. We can’t just sit around here.”

“Our highest priority is securing the Challenger archive.” Valkyrie says as she finishes tying off Renchiko’s wounds, then moves towards Ridge. “That’s still aboard the Accatria. We cannot afford to let the ship leave with it. If it falls into the wrong hands, that will be the end of the Valiant Project.”

“We also need to get back the command key for the Cradle, which Dussel has.” I point out. “So Dussel and the Accatria are our main targets.”

“Yeah, but they’re literally miles away.” Cahriu points out. “If CURSE doesn’t come over that bridge and come at us, it means they’re going back to the hangar. They’ve got a head start on us, it’s like eight miles from here to the hangar, and we still have to get out of this canyon and back to the city surface. There’s no way we’re gonna get there before they do.”

“If they’re moving with wounded, they will not be moving quickly, unless they leave their wounded behind.” Valkyrie says while checking Ridge over. “We may still be able to catch up with them if we send a small group of our most capable. But they will have to move fast, and they will be severely outnumbered if they catch up to CURSE. It will be a difficult fight for whoever we send.”

“We only need to send one person.” Sierra says as she pours the last of her flask of blood on Songbird, then caps it and tucks it in her jacket. Immediately afterwards, she gives Songbird a full-on slap to the face. “Hey! Mopey bastard! Wake up, I just gave you the last of my really expensive Calyri pureblood!”

“Whoa, hey!” I protest, moving back towards him. “Just shake him awake, you don’t need to slap him shitless!”

“I don’t need to,” Sierra agrees. “but I want to.” A moment later, Songbird’s eyes flicker open, and coughs out a puff of dust as he starts coming around.

Sinking to my knees beside him, I rest a hand on his chest as he looks around, trying to get his bearings. “How are you feeling?” I ask, studying the hole in his chest. It’s started to close up; I can still see damage inside, but I’m pretty sure that will heal as well, given enough time.

“Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head.” he groans. “So I’m not dead?”

“Not for lack of trying.” I grunt. “You almost let the bridge drop on yourself once everyone was out.”

“The Spark only gave me enough to do what I needed to do.” he coughs, reaching up to clasp his hands around his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. That headache must be pretty intense. “Did you get me out?”

“Yes, but Blockchain helped.” I say, reaching down to slide my hands under his, flicking runes for cold out of my rune circles, and pressing my thumbs to his temples the same way I did on Hale’ohe. “He caught the slab of bridge that was about to fall on you, and held it up long enough for me to get you out.”

“I told you he was a good person.” he sighs, his hands relaxing as I massage his temples.

“Yes, yes, this is all very touching, but we’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Sierra cuts in. “Dussel has the command key, and the Challenger archive is still aboard the Accatria. We can’t let the Dussel mercs leave, or we lose both of those, and that’s the end of the Valiant Project. And CURSE is between us and the hangar, so we need someone to fight through them, get to the hangar, take down Dussel, and keep the Accatria from leaving. Hint hint.”

“Give him a moment, would you?” I say, glaring at her. “He just saved everyone from getting crushed to death. Let him breathe for a bit before you start piling more stuff on him.”

“We don’t have a moment.” Valkyrie says over her shoulder. “Every second counts. If we don’t stop Dussel from leaving the Cradle, it’ll all have been for nothing.”

“Wait, what’s going on with Dussel?” Songbird asks, confused.

“He’s got the command key, and the Challenger archive is on the Accatria.” I explain. “If the Accatria leaves, we lose both of them.”

“And that’s probably what he’s doing right now: heading back to the hangar with CURSE.” Sierra says. “Luci can help sabotage the Accatria if needed, but we can’t put all our eggs in one basket. You’re the only one that can square up against multiple Peacekeepers and come out on top. You can’t hide from this any—”

“I know.” he grunts before she can finish. He starts to push himself up on his arms, opening his eyes as he does so. “I’ll go.”

“Wait, really?” Sierra says, looking surprised. “You’re actually going to do it?”

“Not because you asked.” he says, sitting up and looking at me. “Because Kiwi made a good point about why I should use what I’ve been given.”

I can feel my face heat up a little, but I fight it down and stay focused. “Are you sure you can do this?” I ask him. “You still haven’t fully healed yet.”

“I can heal on the go.” he says, reaching into one of the sleeves of his longcoat. Fumbling around in the inside of the cuff, he pulls out a pair of glossy Crescendo earbuds that look like they have a custom design and fit. “The rest of you stay here. I’ll take care of this.”

“No. We’re gonna come with you.” Renchiko says, scrambling to her feet. “We can help. And you’ll need backup if things don’t go the way they’re supposed to.”

“Not for this.” he says, wincing as he struggles to his feet. “This one’s solo, little sister. If this was a different kind of fight, I’d bring you along. But I need to do this one alone.”

“You don’t really think we’re going to let you go alone, do you?” I ask, standing as well. “Not after that… talk we had.”

He reaches up, cupping his hands around the back of my neck as he leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. “You were angry at me for not fighting as hard as you do. Let me fix that. You let me have a peek into your soul; now it’s my turn to hold up my end of the deal.”

I frown. “When I said I wanted you to fight harder, I didn’t mean that I wanted you to fight alone.” I say, bumping my head against his. “I want you to fight harder. Beside me, not in front of me.”

“In the future. But not today.” he says. “Today I need to do this alone. It’ll be the first time I’ve gotten amped in a long time; I’m going to be rediscovering something I buried years ago.” His ruby eyes search me. “Once I remember what I am, I’ll share it with you. But I need to relearn what I am first. Okay?”

I huff at him. “Fine. Don’t expect me to kiss those dusty lips of yours, though.”

He smiles. “You might be waiting a while. We’ve still got a lot of ass to kick before we can hit the showers on the Accatria.”

I bite my lip. “Gods, you’re hot when you say stupid shit so confidently.” I grab the edges of his battered coat, pulling him in to kiss him anyway, then push him away a couple seconds later. “Go on. Get out of here. We’ll catch up with you. You better have everything taken care of by the time we get there.”

“No promises.” he says, putting his earbuds in, then raising a hand to point at Blockchain, who’s been watching. “I knew you had it in you, big guy. Welcome to the Valiant Project.”

Blockchain gives him a single nod, which takes the form of a slightly lean forward and back again. Reaching up, Songbird taps one of his earbuds twice, and a night-black cloud swirls over the sclera of his eyes, while his irises morph over to a solar-blue hue. His outline starts to glow, leaving behind a neon afterimage as he turns and begins skating away through the canyon, his boots riding on that same neon light.

“The hell?” Ridge exclaims after a moment. “Since when could he do that?”

“Songbird hides a lot of the shit he can do.” Sierra says. “It’s kinda his thing.”

“You’re not actually going to let him go alone, are you?” Tarocco asks me as Songbird starts to get smaller with distance.

“Of course not.” I say, wiping some dust off my lips, and looking to Sol. “Do you know how to get to where CURSE is going?”

“Yes. If you will follow me, I can show you a faster way.” she says. “If we move quickly, we may get there at the same time he does, given how quickly he’s moving.”

“We’ll be back, then.” I say, looking to the others. “Cahriu, you stay here with Valkyrie and Blockchain, and help guard the kids. The rest of us will make sure Songbird’s got the support he needs to make it all the way to the hangar.” Looking back down Sol, I give her a nod. “Lead the way.”

“As you request.” she says, both her and Midnatt dropping to all fours and starting to lope away. Taking a deep breath, I start to jog after them, with Tarocco and Sierra following behind me.

With luck, we’d be able to pay CURSE back for the ambush they hit us with earlier.

Event Log: Lucanthiline

M.V. Accatria: Engineering Deck

5:07pm SGT

I’m not a soldier.

If that hasn’t been made abundantly clear by this point, I figure I’d make it clear now. I’m not someone that fights — I’m a messenger, an errand boy, a spy, a sneak. Sometimes I’ll do ambushes, or breakouts, like I did for Songbird when he got arrested on Shinobe Kibe. But those are exceptions to the rule, and the rule is that I don’t fight.

Which is why I’d really rather be anywhere than here right now.

And if I’m being honest? I did go anywhere but here when CURSE first busted into the reactor tower. I’d run behind a console where no one could see me, and let myself flicker out of existence and manifest in the pantry of a nice cafe on Sybione that I frequently raid for goodies and sweets. Less than a second was all it took for me to be halfway across the galaxy and well out of danger’s reach.

And I stayed there for a good ten minutes. But eventually, my guilt got the better of me, about halfway through a slice of salted caramel cheesecake. So I tried to come back — only to find that I couldn’t. Everywhere I’d been in the reactor tower was observed space, and I couldn’t manifest in spaces that were being actively observed. So I waited until I finished my slice of cheesecake, and tried again, to no avail.

So, since I couldn’t return to the reactor tower, I settled on the next best thing: the Accatria.

It was easy to manifest there; I’d spent months on that ship, and I’d had plenty of time to go snooping through its nooks and crannies. Plus, tight, enclosed spaces like what you find on a military ship are much different than an open floor plan, like the one in the reactor tower. It’s easy to constantly observe an open floor plan with just a few people, but a ship with countless rooms and compartments is much harder to monitor. Practically impossible, really.

So I manifested in Sierra’s room, and decided to start from there. Originally, the plan was to find Jackrabbit, get backup, and figure out what was going on. I found out the hard way that there was a kill squad roaming the ship, looking for me.

One death and fifteen minutes later, I remanifested in Sierra’s room, thoroughly disgruntled about being killed for the first time in months. Even if quantum uncertainty kept me from ever really dying for good, nobody liked the experience of dying. Getting gunned down in a hail of coilgun spikes was, as the kids liked to say, ‘painful’.

Obviously there was a change of approach required, hence why I was now sneaking through the engineering deck as quietly as I could. Considering I’d gotten killed by the mercs on the Accatria, it wasn’t just Dussel; it looked like the whole mercforce was in on the traitor gig. Since I was separated from the others and I had no one to go to for backup or orders, I figured I’d do the only thing I could at this point: make problems and keep the mercs busy.

Unfortunately, it seems like the mercs were expecting that.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Hey, hey, don’t shoot!” I squeak, putting my hands up as I backpedal down the corridor leading to the fusion core. A couple of mercs on patrol down in the engineering deck caught me, and currently have their rifles leveled at me.

“Wotcha doin’ down here, kitty?” one of them drawls.

“Thought you’d get in the fusion core and make a big mess, did you?” the other says.

“No, no!” I say quickly, my ears laying back. “I was just, uhm, looking for the Lieutenant Commander…”

The first one snorts. “Oh really? And what would that smug one-eyed bikini bitch be doing down here in engineering? She don’t get her hands dirty with grunt work.”

“Um… inspection?” I suggest weakly.

“You’re a shit liar, furball.” the second one says.

“Oh good, you got him.” A voice behind me has me turning around, and my heart drops when I see that it’s Tony, marching down the hall.

“Yeah, we followed your orders and didn’t shoot.” the first merc says.

“It was tempting, though.” the second one adds.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t.” Tony says, pulling a stunner out of her officer jacket and starting to charge it up. “If you kill a schrödinger and take your eyes off them, they’ll remanifest elsewhere. Clearly the squads on the other decks didn’t get the memo.” She comes to a stop a few yards from me, adjusting the intensity setting on the stunner. “If you stun them, though, they can’t go anywhere because they’re not conscious to do so.”

“Tony, no…” I groan. “Not you too…”

Tony’s pale blue eyes flick to me. “This is how mercenaries roll, Luci. You know that.”

With that, she raises the stunner. I jerk my arms up to shield my face, flinching when I hear two stunner discharges. But nothing hits me, and instead, I hear bodies crumpling behind me; lowering my arms, I look behind me to see both of mercs have been stunned.

“Luckily for you, I’m not a mercenary.” Tony says, lowering her stunner.

I look back to her, then to the mercs, then back to her, open my mouth, fumble for words, and then point back towards the mercs. “…I’m confused.” I say after a long moment.

“Duly noted.” she says, holstering her stunner. “Follow me. We need to get to the server room and plug Legaci back in.”

“Okay, now I’m even more confused.” I say, hurrying to keep up with her as she starts back the way she came. “What’s going on? Like… not that I’m complaining, but why are you disobeying Dussel’s orders?”

“My purpose for being here is not the paycheck, unlike the vast majority of the merforce.” Tony answers, straight and to the point, and yet somehow also cryptic. “What is important is that we ensure the survival of the Valiant Project. I assume you are willing to help me with that?”

“I mean yeah, totally, but I’m still confused!” I exclaim. “If you’re not here for the paycheck, what are you here for?”

“That’s something that can be discussed later, once we have secured the important objectives.” Tony says, pulling a set of cuffs off her beltline and handing them to me. “Here, put these on and pretend to look defeated and submissive. Considering your ample engagement with the Lieutenant Commander, it should come naturally to you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Once we secure Legaci, we will free Jackrabbit while Legaci is assuming control of the Accatria.” Tony says, ignoring my demand as we step into one of the elevators. “We will secure the Challenger archive after that, and then we will to put ourselves in a position that allows us to threaten CURSE’s interdictor, which is parked at the quay next to us. Though I do not want to destroy the ship — it could be a great asset if we captured it — I don’t believe we have the manpower needed to storm it. Disabling it, destroying it, or forcing it to leave are more likely possibilities.”

“Jeez.” I say, folding the cuffs around my hands as the elevator doors close. “You got a whole checklist of shit to do, don’t you.”

“I want the Accatria to be firmly under our control by the time the Commander returns. Turning the tables on CURSE is not going to be easy.” She looks to me at this point. “I can count on you to help make this a reality, right?”

“Yeah. Totally.” I say, then hold up the cuffs. “But seriously. Defeated and submissive?”

“The Lieutenant Commander said it was a good look for you, and though I hate to admit it, I think she’s right.”

“Unbelievable…”

Event Log: Rewind: 18 years ago

Caesaestas System

Border World: Anraim

Outpost Vigilance 229

“Move move move, we’ve got injured coming through!”

Echo can hear the shouts up ahead, and as he skids around the corner in the outpost’s subterranean level. Up ahead, he can see a pair of Marshy soldiers helping each other to the infirmary, where Valkyrie is struggling to tend to the influx of injured soldiers. Reaching the two soldiers, he grabs both of them by the shoulders, pointing to one of the adjacent halls as 5377 skids into the hall behind them, trying to catch up to his mentor. “That way! To the rear exit! We can’t stay here; we’ll tend wounds once we’re on the transport!”

Valkyrie’s head snaps up at that, looking away from the soldier with the crushed leg that she’s tending to. “What’s that, Echo? Is something happening?”

“The Collective are closing in; we need to pack up and get out!” Echo orders, sprinting into the infirmary proper and looking around, trying to assess everything that would need to happen to clear out the room. “The front gate’s not going to hold for much longer, and Collective air support has been spotted on approach. We need to get everyone out to the landing pads. 5377, help me start moving people.”

“On it, sir!” 5377 says, starting towards the rows of occupied beds.

“We can’t just move these people out to the landing pads, Echo!” Valkyrie snaps. “Some of them are in critical condition and need immediate care!”

“There are going to be Collective soldiers in these halls in the next five minutes, Valkyrie!” Echo retorts, starting to help an injured soldier off a bed. “If we don’t move them now, they’ll be assimilated! We need to have them out on the landing pad so they can be loading into the transport the moment the ramp hits the ground!”

There’s a crash out in the hall, and both Challengers look to see Gossamer sliding down one of the ladders from the upper floors before stumbling into the infirmary, hacking and wheezing and covered a thin coat of green-blue dust. “They just spore-bombed the outpost! Val, I need a booster right the hell now; my last spore vaccination was ten months ago and I just got a faceful of this shit!”

“Jesu christi, stay where you are! We’ve got open wounds in here, don’t bring that shit in here!” Valkyrie snaps at her. “Nurse, booster shot for the Challenger, make it quick!”

“Gossamer, help organize a retreat to the landing pads once you get your booster.” Echo orders as he continues helping the injured soldier to the door. “Val, me and 5377 will help you get patients out to the landing pad. Have the nurses start transferring the ones that can’t move to gurneys.”

“Dammit, Echo! What do I look like, a miracle worker?” Valkyrie growls, then turns to shout to the rest of the infirmary. “You heard him, people! Start packing up! Non-ambi on gurneys! Everyone that can walk, get on your feet and start walking! Make it snappy unless you wanna stay behind and get assimilated!”

Echo’s almost to the door with his soldier when another one staggers around the corner in the hall, grabbing at his gas mask and yanking it off. “Echo! Challengers! The gate’s been melted! The Collective are in the outpost now; they’re rushing the tower and they’ve brought gravug beetles with them! The rest of the battalion is pulling back to the watchtower, but we’re getting mauled! If we don’t organize a defense, they’re going to be in the watchtower in two minutes!”

“Shit.” Echo hisses, then looks to the side when he sees 5377 activating the helm on his power armor. As it folds around his head and seals shut, the young Challenger sets down the soldier he had been carrying and sprints down the hall, turning the corner and heading back the way the gas-masked soldier came from. “5377! Where are you— Dammit! You can’t hold them on your own!… dammit!”

Not having time to chase after him, Echo wheels on the gas-masked soldier. “Get back to the perimeter, have everyone retreat the watchtower. Hold the doors so we can finish evacuating everyone to the landing pads. If they breach the building, maintain a controlled retreat to the landing pads.” Looking around, Echo searches the tumultuous infirmary. “Gossamer, are you—”

“I’m good now.” Gossamer grunts, securing an upper arm plate where she got her booster. Pushing out into the hall, she heads down one of the adjacent halls leading to the rear exit. “I’ll organize a defensive perimeter out on the landing pads; we’re going to be like sitting ducks out there if the transport doesn’t get here soon.”

“The Horizon Breaker knows we need support; they said they’ll be sending Nova down as soon as they can.” Echo says, following after her with the injured soldier over his shoulder. “She can’t leave low orbit until some of the bigger Collective ships have been pushed off. The Horizon Breaker’s good, but there’s too many Collective ships in orbit, and she’s a mech carrier, not a battleship.”

“As soon as they can is not soon enough.” Gossamer snaps over her shoulder. “The infirmary is not gonna be empty that fast. The Collective are bugrushing the outpost; we’ll be lucky if we can keep them out of the watchtower for more than five minutes. If one of the gravug beetles makes it to the watchtower, that’s it, it’s over. They don’t need doors to get inside when they can vomit acid on the walls and get in through the holes.”

“We need to try.” Echo growls. “We have to hold out, and we have to give Nova time to clear the sky. There’s no point in loading up the transport if the Horizon Breaker is destroyed when we get back up there.”

“I’m sure the Collective will be courteous and wait patiently for our ace in the hole to come down from the stars.” Gossamer replies sarcastically, racking her railgun as they emerge from the rear of the watchtower, and out into the wide landing field beyond. “Alright, you Marshy eggheads! Get your tails in gear! I need groups of three; we need entrenched positions around the central landing pad! If the Collective get inside the perimeter, we’re all screwed! If any of you have area denial, step right up, you just became our most valuable asset—”

Over the next few minutes, Echo helps the medical staff with moving the injured out of the infirmary and out to the landing pad. The sound of plasma fire, artillery shelling, and shouting is prevalent throughout it all and growing closer with every second; elements of the Marshy defense battalion are quickly arriving around the edges of the watchtower and streaming towards the landing field. It’s on his third run back out to the landing field, this time pulling a gurney with a wounded soldier on it, that one of the heavily armored Challenger troop transports descends on the central landing pad, its thrusters kicking up strong winds as it swings around, the rear ramp lowering before it’s even landed. The battalion rushes to start loading the injured into the transport, while those on the perimeter lay down suppressing fire on the Collective soldiers that are starting to stream around the edges of the watchtower building.

“Echo, call it! We need to go!” Gossamer shouts as she loads another railgun spike and starts charging her rifle. Across the field, Collective juggernauts are starting to charge the perimeter, their thick biomass armor absorbing most of the plasma bolts being directed at them. “We can’t hold; we are outnumbered! Get Valkyrie out of the watchtower and let’s go!”

“I’m already here!” The shout comes from the rear of the watchtower building, where Valkyrie’s pulling a last gurney behind her, pistol in her free hand, firing at any Collective Symbiote that gets too close.

“Cover her! Ensure she makes it to the perimeter!” he shouts to the Marshy soldiers holding the line. Looking around, Echo checks to make sure that evacuation to the transport is still proceeding smoothly, then realizes something. “Where’s 5377?”

At that moment, an explosion rocks the front of the watchtower. Rubble and debris go flying through the air as the ground shudders; looking up, Echo can see a portion of the watchtower starting to cave into itself. The front part in particular — the portion of the building that 5377 had gone to defend.

Breaking from the perimeter, Echo pelts across the landing field, ignoring the Collective soldiers as he sprints back towards the watchtower. Gossamer and Valkyrie’s shouts go unheeded as he activates the boosters on his power armor, clearing the edge of the watchtower’s first-floor roof in a single jump; the moment he lands, there’s another explosion, this one shaking the building, but not directed at it. As he takes off along the roof, his worry grows; 5377 had proven proficient with firearms and close combat, and resourceful in tight situations, but there was a point at which skill didn’t matter against the sheer numbers of Collective. And if the Collective were deploying artillery against the outpost, 5377 was in danger. Power armor could only protect you from so much.

Another explosion shakes the watchtower building, and Echo nearly looses his footing. Skidding across the rooftop gravel, he steadies himself and goes into another booster-assisted jump up to the second-story roof; he doesn’t quite clear it this time. His shin catches the ledge, and sends him sprawling across the roof of the second floor; as he struggles back to his feet, another building-shaking blast nearly throws him flat again. Gritting his teeth behind his helm, he couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief; he knew the Collective had far less concern for their footsoldiers than any other nation, but shelling this close to their own forces and risking killing their own people, all for the sake of claiming this frontier outpost, was reckless even by the Collective’s standards.

Turning on his movement-assist thrusters, Echo launches himself forward again, practically flying over the roof, with only brief touches against the rooftop to control his direction. As he goes, he flips through his comms channels in his helm, skimming past the chaotic chatter on the other channels, shouting 5377’s name and straining to hear any response. He and Ratchet had spent too much time, had poured too much knowledge and talent into this Challenger, to let him die a martyr’s death at the hands of the Collective.

As Echo comes up on the front of the watchtower building, there’s another explosion, this one violent and blue, and more like an aural shockwave than a chemical blast. Echo’s HUD flickers, his directional thrusters going on the fritz; he staggers as he hits the rooftop again, struggling to catch his balance. Sliding to a halt on the destroyed edge of the watchtower’s front section, Echo’s breath catches in his throat.

The front portion of the watchtower has been reduced to ruins and rubble. Among it are battered and broken bodies, most of them belonging to Collective soldiers; even the heavy, tanky juggernauts have been brutalized. The remains of van-sized gravug beetles are shoved up against the edges of a wide scorch radius, their shells cracked and shattered; a Collective wasp jet looks to have been shot down, crashed in another portion of the watchtower that’s now burning. Standing in the center of the massive blast mark in all this carnage is a single soldier, the last filaments of sapphire energy fading from the grooves in their power armor.

As Echo’s HUD stabilizes, he searches his contacts, locating 5377’s and opening a direct channel with him. The first thing he hears is the last strains of music; concerned, Echo leans forward, unsure of what he’s looking at. “5377?” he ventures with both caution and concern.

The soldier down below twitches, then turns, his helm disengaging and folding back as he does so. In an instant, Echo can tell it’s 5377, yet all the same, he takes a step back, because he does not recognize the eyes behind the regressed visor.

Solar-blue irises, manic with unbridled power, embedded in sclera black as night.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

The Cradle: Edge of Sector 2

5:37pm SGT

For some people, the magic is genetic, encoded into their DNA.

For some, it’s cultural, carried in traditions, passed down through countless generations.

For others, it’s divine or demonic, coming from powers beyond the realm we live in.

I’ve even heard of those that draw their magic from force of will alone.

But regardless of who you are or how you use it, all magic has to have a source. Something needs to power it.

For me, that source is music.

It’s been that way since I was a child. Music made me strong, gave me confidence. It was a bridge to different versions of myself, to the versions of myself that I wanted to be, versions of myself that I couldn’t be with my social inhibitions. Every time I put my earbuds in, I could step into a world of my own, and pretend I was those versions of myself. And as I got older, it got stronger and stronger, until one day, it was no longer pretending to be those versions of myself.

It was becoming them.

It started out small, just little sparks of power from an overspill of emotion, a little bend of reality here and there. But it would grow as the years went on, and especially after I met Cherri. She freed my mind from the stifling dogma I had been raised with, and showed me a different way to see the galaxy and everything within it. With broad new horizons, and so many new things to explore and experience, that power only grew as my musical repertoire expanded, and the years went on. I never made a habit of showing it off when I was in the Challenger program, and had used it less and less in the years since the Songbird Incident — eventually stopping altogether once CURSE caught up with me and forced me into the resettlement agreement. Some part of me was worried that my power would’ve atrophied with the lack of use, and perhaps that’s why I’d avoided using it up until now — I didn’t want to find out I’d become a shadow of myself in the years since.

I shouldn’t have worried. Because skating through these empty streets, gliding on rollerblades of light, with my Blueberry Bubblegum playlist thumping in the background, the truth is clear as day. As obvious as the energy pulsing through my veins, radiating off me like a heatwave, distorting reality around me.

That power has only grown with time and experience.

It’s thrilling, exhilarating. To move like this, to be freed from the hesitation and caution that usually holds me back. I feel luminous, filled with direction and purpose and momentum that can’t be stopped. No fear, and no doubt.

I haven’t slowed down on my trip through the canyons dividing the rings, and even the long stairwell up to the second sector’s surface didn’t halt my momentum. Zooming now through the streets and alleys on my way towards the sector’s main highway, I can sense that I’m going to be coming up on a confrontation soon, and I measure out my gliding strides so that the current song will end right as I’m arriving. There’s something immensely satisfying about that kind of timing, like pulling into a parking spot or stepping through the front door right on the last note of a song.

And when I come hurtling out onto the highway just ahead of the CURSE convoy, I brake hard, skidding to a halt dead center of the road. The song ends the second after, and I reach up, tapping an earbud and pausing the next song in the queue as my skates of light evaporate, dropping me back to solid ground. Before me, the line of personnel carriers and ATVs slams to a halt, with the operatives crewing them scrambling for their weapons.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” I call out to them, my voice amplified to carry. “Give us back the command key, surrender the Commander to us, and leave the Cradle. Nobody else has to be hurt.”

“Holy shit, how are you still alive?” Onslaught screeches, fumbling to get one of the mounted guns on the top of an APC powered on. “I dropped a bridge on you! What are you, a cockroach?”

“You’re even stupider than I thought.” Gossamer says, slipping out of one of the APCs. “We lost the fight back in the canyon, I’ll admit that, but you had backup there. Picking this fight without anyone to back you up against six Peacekeepers and a platoon of operatives? That one’s a joke for the ages.”

Dussel stays in his ATV, staring hard at me. Out of everyone here, he’s probably the smartest one; the way his fingers curl around the wheel, I know he’s thinking of making a run for it. He knows that I wouldn’t have come all this way, to confront a group this large, if I wasn’t convinced I could win, or at least do some major damage.

“Don’t test me, Dussel.” I call to him. “Not in the mood for it today.”

“All capable operatives to the front. Fan out. Encircle.” The order comes from Nazka, who’s left one of the APCs and is walking to the front of the convoy, his shadow stretching before him and starting to widen. Behind him are Axiom, Whisper, and another young, white-haired operative. The operatives that came to reinforce the platoon are starting to filter towards the front, while the ones driving the vehicles start to park them in positions where they can provide cover.

Guess they aren’t going to surrender, then.

Reaching up, I tap a finger to my earbud again, and dial up the