Aetheral Space

How did things get so consistently fucked?

Bruno threw up an umbrella-like forcefield just in time to stop three more of those swordfish things from spearing Dragan. It seemed that whoever was attacking had him as their main target - most likely because leaving him alive meant risking him killing Roz.

Speaking of Roz, the Umbrant himself was lying in an undignified heap on the floor, chest gently rising and falling. Whatever Ruth had done, it had knocked the poor bastard out good. Still, this wasn't an ideal situation.

They were surrounded by at least three enemy groups - Muzazi and Noel had seemed just as surprised by the swordfish as the rest of them - and they'd just lost whatever little leverage they had. If there was a time for Skipper to come up with a plan, this was it.

Skipper was standing in front of the rest of the group, firing off Heartbeat Shotguns at Noel's swarms of drones, shooting them down one by one like swatting flies. As Ruth again tried to get past him to rush at Muzazi, he grabbed her by the back of the collar and threw her back towards the car.

"No time for a brawl!" he shouted over the chaos, firing off a series of Shotguns to keep Muzazi at a distance. "Get the damn car started!"

Bruno nodded - that, at least, was a task to be done. As he moved towards the car the man called Simeon had brought, Bruno grabbed Dragan under his good arm and pulled him along.

Mr. Hadrien doesn't look so good, said Serena calmly.

He glanced down at Dragan's wound - Serena was right. Dragan had pulled the swordfish out, but that still left a gaping hole in his right hand's palm. Even as he applied pressure with his other hand, teeth bared in an expression of agony, blood was steadily oozing out from between the fingers.

"Can you move?” Bruno said sharply, reapplying the forcefield over the two of them every few seconds.

Face pale, Dragan nodded.

As the sounds of explosions blasted out behind them, Bruno led Dragan towards the limousine and pushed him into the back, making sure to leave a standing forcefield over the vehicle's fuel canister. That should give it some protection from whoever was throwing fish around.

"Get the car ready to move," Bruno ordered. "I'll be right back."

Dragan looked like he was going to come out with some snarky comment, but clearly thought better of it. Again, he nodded almost meekly.

Bruno shut the car door, looking back towards the ongoing battle. Skipper and Ruth were holding the line fairly well - plus, Muzazi and Noel's group seemed to be getting in the way of each other's attacks, slowing down their assault. The problem now was getting Roz in the car as well without anyone getting in the way.

Let me help, suggested Serena. I'm strong. I can beat these guys up!

Bruno shook his head. "No," he said under his breath. "They're stronger. Plus, we're not sticking around."

He felt a tingle of frustration. You're such a spoilsport!

"It's what I'm here for," he replied, rushing forward to where Roz lay - just behind Skipper.

"How's the kid?" Skipper shouted.

"In the car," Bruno replied, kneeling down and throwing Roz over his back. "We need to start moving towards it - we can lose them on the roads."

Skipper nodded, and let loose another Shotgun at Noel - it seemed the ground-based drones were creating some kind of shield that was protecting her, however. Like spiders spinning a web, blue holographic lines were being emitted from the drones mandibles, coming together into a translucent blue brick wall just in front of her. The wall crackled with cyan Aether.

That's pretty, said Serena appreciatively.

Bruno understood as he saw it - whoever this Noel kid was, she was good with Aether. She was infusing the holographic wall to such a degree that the slight mass it possessed originally had been enhanced enough to block physical blows. All while controlling all her drones.

"Okay," said Skipper, firing off another Shotgun to smash some of the insufficiently protected drones. "Time to move-"

A thunderous voice resounded throughout the square. "Move aside!" it screamed.

-

"Move aside!" Muzazi shouted, trying once again to rush towards Hadrien's vehicle, but the obstacle stopped him once again.

The obstacle in this case was the lanky man with the medical mask, one of the young girl's companions. He held a combat knife in one hand, and was consistently parrying Muzazi when he tried to get past him.

"Calm yourself, fellow warrior," the man said, holding his combat knife ready. "That villain's compatriots still surround the hostage, and so may execute him if we act recklessly-"

Muzazi roared with anger and rushed him again, using thrusters to increase the speed and force of Luminescence's slashes. Still, it wasn't enough - and Muzazi knew that.

The humiliation Hadrien had inflicted was beyond the pale, and Muzazi's righteous anger could not be quelled. That rage boiled his blood and gave him focus, true, but it also made his movements predictable. It was child's play for the lanky fellow to dodge and deflect each one of his blows, no matter how strong or fast it may be.

"Reyansh!" screamed the girl behind him, taking cover behind that strange glowing wall of hers. "Stop fighting him and help us! They're going to get away!"

Behind the girl, her other companion - the pink-haired man - was doing his best to retaliate against Skipper's endless blasts. He reached up to his head and, with a grimace, pulled a chunk of long pink hair free.

Then, with a flare of pastel-pink Aether, those hairs straightened into long, sharp needles that the man loaded into the bow he was holding.

Even in his anger, Atoy Muzazi couldn't help but be impressed. Most Aether users whose ability required ammunition found some way to use common objects for that purpose, but the use of one's own body parts was something he'd only rarely seen. Plus, with the man's apparent Aether tic, procuring more ammunition was child's play.

As Aether flowed around the man - Simeon, Muzazi had heard the girl say over the radio - his hair was growing longer, flowing down from his shoulders until it was brushing the floor beneath his feet. Accelerated hair growth, and an ability that took advantage of it. Ingenious.

Reyansh's gaze flicked from Muzazi to his companions.

"Atoy," said Marie's voice in Muzazi's earpiece, only the faintest signs of urgency in her voice. "That car's taking off. Should I shoot it down?"

Muzazi shook his head, and then - realizing that Marie obviously couldn't see that - replied: "No. The endeavour is pointless if we just shoot them down. I need Hadrien to face me."

There was a sigh over the communications network. "Fine, fine. Well, what about those people who are giving you trouble? Should I shoot them down?"

Muzazi hesitated a moment. Normally, he'd shy away from such heavy-handed tactics - but these people were all that were standing between him and the retribution he was owed. Surely, when it was one against three, bringing in the help of an additional person would be permitted, wouldn't it?

Reyansh looked back towards Muzazi, and their eyes met.

"Fire," Muzazi said, as if coughing the word up.

Reyansh's eyes widened, and he swung back around to shout a warning to his comrades.

"Roger that," Marie purred over the radio -

- and then the sky exploded into light.

-

Simeon del Dranell put a hand up to protect his eyes and the red light exploded in the sky. Even as the explosion rang out above, neither he nor his comrades were harmed.

That had been a close one. Hell, that had probably been the closest one of Simeon's life. If Reyansh hadn't managed to shout that warning, he'd never have been able to parry the shot.

The moment Simeon had heard that warning, he'd looked up into the sky, saw what looked like a giant red lightning bolt approaching, and shot it down with one of his own arrows.

All in all, the maneuver had probably taken a second and a half - yet it very nearly didn't work. Even an instant later, and Simeon knew that he would be dead.

He scowled, looking up at the sky in anticipation of a second shot. Simeon del Dranell very much did not like walking into a fight when he had any chance of losing. Noel had led him to believe this would be a merry hunt with which to amuse himself for the evening, and now he'd suddenly found himself staring death in the face.

Simeon risked a glance back at Reyansh, who'd now truly engaged the swordsman in combat - the sounds of that white sword clashing with Reyansh's combat knife rang out through the evening.

Good - that meant Simeon could provide cover without worrying about a sword suddenly plunging through his back. Reyansh wasn't competent enough to land a killing blow without his bombs, but his defensive skill was good enough to keep that Special Officer from advancing for at least a little while.

He glanced towards the car - the guy called Skipper's crew had managed to get themselves inside it, and the vehicle was slowly taking off. He'd intentionally brought them a car that was slow to get started, but with the situation being the way it was they couldn't really take advantage of that.

Noel's drones were swarming around the car like wasps, but that damn Skipper's concussive attacks kept blasting them out of the air - and Ruth Blaine was perched on top of the vehicle like a cat, destroying anything that got too close with those claws of hers.

As Simeon considered firing off a few more shots at the car, he saw a subtle red glint at the peak of a skyscraper a few kilometers away - and a second later, another massive red bolt was surfing towards them, a deafening screech accompanying it.

Grunting with exertion, Simeon fired off two more arrows - and as the hairs flew forwards, they intertwined to become a stronger projectile. Just like last time, the thunderbolt exploded violently the moment it made contact with the arrows, the force of the detonation causing the entire street to shake. Even the car lifting into the sky rattled.

As he plucked out some more of his rapidly growing hair, Simeon wiped the sweat from his forehead. What the hell kind of weapon was firing at them?

It wasn't Aether, that was sure - he knew Aether when he saw it, and these thunderbolts didn't give off that vibe. Still, the attacks seemed … familiar, in a way.

It only took a few seconds for Simeon del Dranell to realize where he'd last seen them.

During the failed Dranell Revolution, when the skies had rained fire and Supremacy troops had burnt their way through cities and towns - when the Ascendant General had signed the death warrant for a solar system. Simeon had only been a kid, then, and not old enough to do any actual fighting…

...but he remembered the bombardments, remembered rushing into airtight shelters as Supremacy ships blasted the surface of his planet with all they had. Those bolts … those were the fangs of a starship.

But, if he was seeing those again here, then that meant…

-

Marie licked her lips as she lined up another shot.

It hadn't been easy arranging for a cannon to be removed from a Supremacy warship and shipped to Taldan, but she couldn't deny the efficacy of the results. Smoke poured from the barrel of the massive rectangular weapon, the bolts that kept it attached to the roof of the skyscraper glowing red-hot from residual heat.

If that bowman hadn't seen her first shot coming, she probably could have taken out the entire enemy team just like that. A whole group of adept Aether users destroyed in less than a second.

If they'd had this sort of technology back in the olden days, things might have turned out differently. But there was no point in dwelling on the past.

It hadn't exactly been a simple matter to get the cannon set up for the battle tonight, either. She'd rigged up a holographic display just over her eye to serve as a kind of sniper scope, but the electromagnetic interference each shot produced meant that she lost sight of her target for a few seconds right after firing.

The power issue had been a concern as well, but she'd managed to get that sorted with a little help from her friends in the Officer's Commission. A single shot from a cannon like this consumed massive amounts of energy - on a Supremacy warship, that was provided by the on-board reactor, but Marie didn't exactly have access to one of those in the field.

The building she'd settled on as her sniper perch was clandestinely owned by the Galactic Intelligence Division, and they'd loaned it out for Marie's use once she'd reminded them of various favours and … embarassing incidents she might have felt compelled to leak otherwise. So, the cannon could happily leech off the Taldan power grid through the building's direct connection.

It wasn't at full strength with such a meagre supply, of course, but she didn't need it to be - she was looking to eliminate enemies, not perform demolition work.

Still, it was such a shame that she hadn't managed to kill them with the first shot - that bowman seemed to be the perfect counter for the sniper style she was going for here. Ideally, she would have wanted to make the shot and immediately get away from the cannon.

The heat it produced was immense, after all.

She'd already folded up her clothes and left them a short distance away before starting to operate the cannon, of course, but the sheer heat produced by two shots in a row meant that the side of her body closest to it had already become charred and scorched - a steady stream of warm blood running from underneath her body and dripping off the side of the building.

Marie frowned as her left eye stopped working - the stupid thing had probably popped in its socket, knowing her luck tonight. With a subtle swipe of her good hand, the holographic scope shifted over to cover her right eye instead. Through it, she could see that the bowman was poised and ready - any shots she fired for the moment would be blocked easily, given the pink-haired guy's evident skill.

She pouted with the side of her face that was still capable of such a feat. She really hated waiting.

-

Dragan clenched his teeth as he wrapped the makeshift bandage around the hole in his palm, trying to ignore just how quickly the fabric turned red.

"How are we doing back there?" barked Bruno from the driver's seat, glancing back into the body of the limousine. He'd taken charge of the escape, while Ruth kept watch from on top of the car and Skipper covered them from the passenger seat.

"I've felt better," grunted Dragan, applying as much pressure as he could.

"Are you feeling light-headed?" Bruno went on insistently. "If you're feeling light-headed, that means you've lost too much blood."

Dragan groaned in exasperation, and was surprised by just how ragged his breath sounded as he did. "Wow, thanks. Good to know that I'll feel bad if I lose blood. I'm learning so much tonight."

"He's still got enough blood to be a smartass," muttered Skipper from the passenger seat, just before firing off a series of five Shotguns through a crack in the window. "Bruno - we ready to move?"

Bruno nodded, hands on the steering wheel. "It tried to sync us to Taldan's traffic network, but I managed to switch it to manual control."

"Right," said Skipper, the unmistakable sound of relief in his voice. Then, moving his head as close to the window as was safe, he shouted: "Ruth! Get in here!"

Bruno tapped a button on the wheel and, just for a second or two, the passenger window slid open - just enough time for Ruth to jump inside and clamber into the back.

As she landed, the mask covering her face dissipated into red Aether, and she took in a greedy lungful of breath.

"Nice to see you again," said Dragan flatly, slouched in the back seat, grabbing another handkerchief from the wine cooler to cover his wound.

Ruth's eyes flicked towards his injured hand. "Tell me if I'm wrong here - really, really do - but was that a swordfish in your hand?"

Dragan nodded, wincing as the wound tormented him again. "Seems that way," he said.

Ruth exchanged a look with Skipper, and Dragan's heart dropped as he saw the unmistakable signs of fear in their expressions.

"That was orange Aether too, right?" Skipper asked quietly.

Again, Dragan slowly nodded - very much not liking where this was going.

"Shit," said Skipper, thumping his metal hand against the dashboard in frustration. "It's him, then. It's definitely him."

"It's who?" Dragan sat up as he spoke, the frustration quickly becoming evident in his words. "Can we not do all this cryptic shit and just name names?!"

Bruno put his foot to the pedal and the car began to speed forward through the streets, weaving and dodging through traffic. The swarm of drones continued to pursue - but they'd managed to leave Muzazi and the rest behind.

Even so, there was no relief on Bruno's face as he spoke: "It's the Fifth fucking Dead."

Silence settled over the inside of the car, save for the rumble of the engine and the buzzing of the drones outside. It was as if Bruno had just announced their collective funeral. Finally though, the pre-emptive memorial was interrupted by Dragan:

"Who?"

Ruth took over explaining as Bruno maneuvered through the night traffic: "A lot of this is, uh … a lot is just stuff I've heard, but apparently he's one of the best when it comes to hired guns."

"Not the most morally virtuous, either," muttered Skipper, watching the drone-cloud through the rear-view mirror. "Apparently, he was as good as the Hellhound before that bastard went Contender."

"Well, what's he doing spiking my fucking hand?" Dragan yelled, waving the hand in question. A few drops of blood splattered on the fine upholstery, and Ruth shifted in her seat slightly.

"No clue," said Skipper. "I mean, I had a nasty run-in with the Second Dead years back, but that shouldn't matter … I, uh, I guess he must've been hired to grab Roz - or kill Roz, or kill us, or, uh … well, I dunno."

Helpful as ever. Dragan opened his mouth to complain some more, but was interrupted by a heavy metallic thump from above.

Bruno stiffened in the driver's seat. "One of the drones?"

"No," said Skipper, eyes wide, still fixed on the rear-view mirror. "They're still a ways back. Ruth…?"

Slowly, cautiously, Ruth rose from her seat, baring her long steel claws.

Dragan opened his mouth with a croak, trying unsuccessfully to break the sudden tension. "You don't think -"

He was interrupted by the sudden smashing of glass from behind him. Before he could turn to look at what was clearly the window breaking, a firm hand seized him by the back of the collar and pulled him out into the night.

The last thing he saw before leaving the car was Ruth's face, eyes wide with surprise.

The hand that had grabbed Dragan pulled him up on top of the moving car and held him aloft by the throat, turning him around so they could get a good look at him.

It was a giant of a man with cold, impassive eyes and a red V on his forehead. The height difference was such that Dragan's feet couldn't even touch the car's roof as he was held up. The wind buffeted against Dragan's face as the car continued moving - and the cloak the man was wearing fluttered like a patriotic flag, but he didn't even flinch.

The man slowly cocked his head, as if inspecting Dragan, eyes slowly looking him up and down.

Dragan, with great effort, gulped. What with the mark on the man's forehead and the discussion they'd just been having, it didn't take a genius to figure out who this guy was.

"You're…" he began in a choked voice.

"You're not the one," the Fifth Dead said, with a voice like melting steel, and dropped Dragan into the abyss below.