7
Shadow Death
This one's gonna be a long one, but it's gonna have action and I don't think you'll be disappointed… but as the title hints, there will be death… oh, yeah, by the way, this is where the rated T part is gonna really play its card, cause I notice they don't kill anybody in the show… but I think you all know I don't own Storm Hawks….
"Sorry, Stork, but you need to be stealthy, and all those pots and pans would wake the dead." Piper told him as Wing wheeled her skimmer away from the others and kick started the engine.
Stork sighed and checked the buckles on both of his parachutes. Yes, both of them. Finn could snicker all he liked, but there was no way Stork was putting his life in the hands of Wing's old skimmer.
Falshade brushed past him and bumped up against Wing's leg as she dropped casually onto her skimmer. She said something to him softly and watched him slink down the runway and vanish into the shadows of the cave. Then she turned her head to look at Stork. Smiling encouragingly she said. "Come on, let's go!"
Stork dug a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and put it in Piper's hand. Piper didn't even have to ask what it was. Only Stork carried his will around on his person.
Taking a deep breath Stork slid reluctantly on behind Wing on her skimmer.
"Remember, don't get too close or they'll pick up your skimmer on their scanners!" Piper called to Wing over the guttural rumbling of her skimmer.
Wing gave her a salute to show she'd heard and revved her engine.
"Hey, Stork-y!" Finn called from Stork's side. He glanced over briefly.
"Guess it's not all bad, huh?" he said with a wink and a nod at Wing. Stork scowled at him.
"You might wanna hang on!" Wing said over her shoulder and gunned the engine, tires squealing against the metal floor of the Condor momentarily before throwing them forward. Stork threw awkwardness to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, burying his face in her hair as Wing skimmer dropped from the edge of the runway, hitting the stone floor of the cave with a heart stopping jerk that jostled them both. Wing aimed directly for the open cave mouth, engine roaring and tires burning acridly. Stork didn't have to see to know that they were only seconds from plunging off the edge of the cliff…
"Oh, please let the wing converter controls work so we don't crash and burn and splatter into the wastelands." he prayed at the last instant and then he felt his stomach drop and his whole body go numb.
They plummeted just long enough for Stork to think they were going to die when Wing yanked on the converter control's lever and they shot upward into the air. Yeah, that didn't make him want to puke…
There was a reason Stork didn't have a skimmer of his own. He liked to know there was more then just hunk of metal and an engine between him and the ground thousands of feet below. Sure, that might sound strange, seeing as how the Condor was sort of like a giant skimmer, when you thought about it… but just something about it made him feel closed in and safe… and it helped to know that their was at least a windshield between you and the ground when you hit it.
This though… this was not good. This was terrifying. This was petrifying. This was…
Intoxicating?
Wing was laughing like a maniac as the chill night air whipped her hair back from her face. She had them roaring along at breakneck speed, climbing at almost a vertical slope towards the stars. The cliff face rushed past them and Wing levelled them off, angling towards the hills in the distance.
"Isn't this great? I love flying at night!" she called to him over the wind.
Great was a bit of a stretch, but Stork peeked from around her hair anyways. Something glided past them then and he let out a yelp and ducked away so quickly he clacked his jaw off her broadsword and bit his tongue.
"It's alright, it's just Falshade!" she called as the great cat cruised along ahead of them on his silent, black wings. She turned her head slightly so she could see him. "You okay?"
Stork wondered if she could feel his heart hammering wildly in his chest. "Yeah." he muttered, barely managing to get the word out. Flying on Wing's skimmer was totally different then riding along with Piper on her heliscooter.
"Good. Do you think you could loosen up your hold a little then?"
Stork realized he'd been practically crushing her so tight was his grip. Hoping he hadn't caused any internal damage he loosened his arms slightly. "Sorry."
"No problem. I'm taking us down for a landing in a second. Might get a little rough."
Stork groaned and buried his face in her hair again. He felt Wing tilt her skimmer downwards slightly and he knew they were losing speed and altitude. A moment later he felt the wings glide back into the runner boards and couldn't help but squeeze her in a death grip once more.
He felt the tires wrench against the ground as they landed and Wing immediately cut the engine. They rolled to a gentle stop and Wing stuck her leg down to balance them and attempted to swing herself off. Unfortunately Stork still had her around the waist and she lost her balance. The both tumbled to the ground, bringing her skimmer down atop them with a clang.
"So much for stealthy." Wing said, pushing the skimmer off with her legs and then rolling to her feet. Falshade touched down next to them much more gracefully and gave an amused growl.
"Shut it, you." Wing said, offering a hand to Stork to help him up. Falshade ruffled his wings indignantly.
Wing had landed them on one the side of one of the hills to the west of the great fortress. It was sparsely forested, enough to give them cover and to keep her skimmer hidden from any straying eyes. They scrambled up the hillside, glancing over their shoulders for any sign of a patrol that may be about. At the top of the hill Wing threw herself to her belly and peered out cautiously from over a large rock. She waved for Stork to come over beside her and then pointed forward.
Stork gulped as he took in the sheer size of the Old City. It lay in a large crevice among the hills, like a gigantic stone eagle looking down from its nest on the rest of the Terra. Way down below Stork could see the other city, which seemed to cower and shrink before its older, grander brother. No wonder the Vultures had chosen it for their new lair. It looked indestructible, and now that they had those cannons fired up, it was practically impenetrable.
But that's why they were here. They'd come like the Plague to destroy the stronghold from the inside out. A hundred enemies outside the house is better then one within. Or three, anyways. Whatever. So much for poetry.
"What are you doing?" Wing whispered to him and he jumped.
"Nothing" he muttered, shoving all his dark little attempts at poetry from his head.
"Ok, you just looked sick there for a second. Alright, let's go find that drain." Wing said, grabbing his arm. "Stick with me, we've got to be quick."
She didn't even give him a chance to respond. Leaping over the rock she half-led, half-dragged him down the bare hillside. Stork stumbled over his own feet and nearly took them both down again. Struggling for his balance he looked up at the towering city walls and saw one of the huge spot lights swivelling their way.
"They've got lights!" he hissed and Wing looked up and swore quietly. She threw them both down behind the cover of a nearby rock, hunching up as close as she could and pulling a disorientated Stork down with her just as the search light swept over head. She watched the beam travel across the hill side slowly and then blink off. In the distance a second light suddenly flared and began roving across the southern flank of the fortress. Wing sighed in relief; the lights were automatic and hadn't been purposely searching for them. They hadn't been spotted, at least not yet.
Wing glanced up at the top of the wall, where she knew sentries were posted. They weren't home free yet. They still had to cover the distance at the between the bottom of the hill and the wall.
"We're going to sprint, ok?" she whispered to Stork. "On the count of three."
He gave a short nod and she held up three fingers, watching the top of the wall the whole time. She could pick out the figure of a sentry pacing back across the wall. She counted back slowly as she waited for him to pass the midway point, hoping that he wouldn't look down at the wrong moment.
Her last finger came down and she exploded into motion, tugging Stork along beside her. All they needed to do was reach to cover of the wall and they were safe…
There was a buzzing noise and Wing looked up to see that the light was back on, sweeping a direct path that was going to intercept them. She cursed herself for not thinking that maybe the light might have been set on an erratic frequency to keep trespassers from picking out a pattern. There was no way she was getting past that light in time… but maybe…
Diving forwards she pitched herself and Stork into a headlong roll, tucking them both directly under the light as it swept over them. They came up with their backs against the wall, Stork cracking his head backwards against the stone from the whiplash. The light blazed past them just inches from Wing's toes. She held her breath as it past, keeping her eyes shut against its glare. She hoped Stork had enough sense to keep himself pressed against the wall where they wouldn't be seen.
The light travelled past them and she opened her eyes a slit to peer through her lashes. The light had moved on its way towards the far side of the wall, and she couldn't here any alarms sounding. Letting her breath out in a whoosh she glanced over at Stork, whose narrow chest was heaving violently. Worried he might be having a panic attack, Wing grabbed his shoulder and shook him gently.
"Hey, you ok?" she asked in a whisper.
Stork opened his eyes, which to Wing's alarm glowed slightly in the dark. "I'm just peachy." he rasped.
"You sure? You don't look so good." Wing said, laying the back of her fingers against his forehead, which was quite clammy.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't throw people up against walls like that." Stork muttered and suddenly realized she was holding his hand. He looked into her eyes by accident and thought he caught a glimpse of concern before tuning away, feeling like an idiot.
Wing pulled him to his feet and let him go. "I think I can see the drain from here." she whispered, acting like she hadn't just been holding his hand. "Stay close to the wall." And with that she began side-shuffling slowly along the wall, keeping her glance fixed above her on the battlements. Stork followed her in a similar fashion, eyes darting all about in his usual paranoid manner.
Wing giggled suddenly and it made him jump.
"What?" he hissed, paranoia making him snappy.
"Wel,l it just occurred to me." Wing whispered, shuffling along. "We must look like a couple of crabs scuttling about down here. I just thought it was funny."
Stork pictured himself sliding along in indeed what must have been a crab-like way along the side of the wall and had to smile.
Wing disappeared from his view suddenly and he panicked. What just happened? Where was she? Had someone opened up a hidden door and snatched her up like a rag doll? Had she been sucked into an alternate dimension?
"Wing?" he breathed, looking over his shoulder. He would have screamed out loud when someone grabbed him by the front of his shirt if that same someone had not thrown a hand over his mouth.
"God damnit, you're jumpy. It's just me." Wing hissed in his ear and let him go. He glanced around. They were standing in some sort of tunnel, and dead ahead of them was a grate that blocked the whole passageway.
"What… where are we?" he spluttered.
"In the drain." she said, splashing forwards to examine the bars of the grate.
Stork looked down and leapt back in disgust, trying to back himself right up the wall and get out of the filthy water that was pooled around his feet. Wing had pulled her broadsword form her back and for the first time Stork noticed that it was not powered by a Striker crystal but a Blazer.
"Might want to back up." she advised him and squeezed the handle on the hilt of her sword, igniting her whole sword in a blazing cocoon of fire. Pressing her blade up against one of the top most bars, Wing slashed her sword down with a spray of sparks, melting through a section of the grate. Stork backed away from the sparks, shielding his eyes and suddenly let out a cry of alarm when something splashed down into the tunnel beside him. Wing wheeled around to face their attacker, broadsword swinging around in a wide arc and nearly catching Falshade in the flank. The panthera yowled and Wing yanked her broadsword upwards, her sudden change in direction of the mighty blade overpowering her and making her stumble back into the grate and fusing her overcoat with some semi-solidified metal with a sizzle.
"What part of 'stealth' don't you two understand?" she growled, tearing herself away and ripping off a small portion of her coat. Falshade made a funny mewling noise and bumped against her leg apologetically. Stork caught sight of scorched skin beneath the new hole in her jacket as she turned to melt another section of the grate. Stork had to snort, even though she didn't hear him: she was lecturing him about stealth, meanwhile there she was, making enough sparks to light up a small portion of the Black Gorge.
Two more slashes and with a metallic thunk a section of the grate fell away and landed with a hiss of hot metal into the drain pipe. Wing squeezed through the gap and splashed down on the other side, not stopping to wait for him. Falshade slipped through after her and with a deep breath Stork followed suit, not wanting to be left behind. He tried not to think of all the different types of parasites and diseases that were probably swimming through the filmy water as he stepped through the hole in the grate. He paused briefly to examine her impromptu welding job and made a disapproving face. Falshade growled at him and lashed his tail in an obvious sort of way. He waited for Stork to get ahead of him before stalking along behind him as if his shadow had come to life. That really calmed Stork's nerves. He was feeling really safe now.
"You are really not enjoying this, aren't you?" Wing whispered in his ear, appearing as silently as her jungle companion. Stork made mental note to buy them both a bell collar. "Stick close to me and stay in the shadows. There might be sentries patrolling the streets."
"Right." "Wrong."
For the third time that evening, Wing took hold of him and took off, leaving him to stumble along behind her. They skirted hither and thither, clinging to the edges of buildings and to the darkness. Stork caught snatches of the dark city, glimpses of the older structures that were now starting to crumble with age. They all seemed to be stuck together, like several trees growing from the same roots. It gave them lots of crevices to hide in, a definite advantage, but it also made them wary. Those same black patches of wall and cubbies and corners that hid them could at any moment also be hiding a sentry, and then it would be game over. It made Stork's nerves tingle and snap just thinking about it, and for the first time since he'd known her Wing seemed to be on edge. They both jumped when they heard voices coming down the street towards them.
"Scatter!" Wing hissed and vanished from his side. Stork whipped his head about wildly, looking for a hiding place. The voices were growing closer and it and he was so scared his thoughts seemed to break apart and leap away, leaving him frozen in place, except for his knocking knees.
Wing had pulled herself into a dark recess under the low hanging terrace of a nearby abandoned building. She looked up the street to where she could pick out the forms of three guards from the pulsing lights of their energy staffs, making their way directly towards…
Stork.
The dummy was standing stiff as a rail directly where she'd left him. Jeez, she thought that he, if anyone, would be the first to hide when directed to. With a groan she jumped back down to the stone street and grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth and wincing when he bit her. Pulling him back up against the wall of her building, she leapt up onto a crumbling old window sill and tucked them both under the overhanging, using her legs to wedge them into the shadows like a pair of deformed bats.
"Tuck your feet in!" she hissed at him and he complied, pulling his legs up against his body like a bird in flight and shrinking in her arms like a small, frightened child. Damn, he was light. If she'd know he was this easy to carry around she wouldn't have dragged him all over the place!
Wing and Stork watched as the trio of guards came closer and closer. Wing shifted her shoulders restlessly; she would have loved to go down their and splatter some Vulture brains against her broadsword, but that would cause too much of a disturbance which would surely bring the whole nest of them down upon them. Better not to risk unwanted attention.
As the guards past them Wing could pick out the individual words in their conversation, which apparently had something to do with what they would do to any women they proceeded to capture. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Wing focused instead on their uniforms, squinting through the dark at the emblems on their backs, chests and shoulders. She could pick out the twisted, ugly depiction of a gangly Vulture and made a low growling noise in her throat, a talent she'd learned from Falshade. There wasn't a single thing she hated more in the world then Vultures, except of course Cyclonians. She could practically smell the vile scent of body odour and hard liquor eeping out of their pores and into her unfortunate nostrils.
Stork's ear, like the rest of him, was trembling. Unfortunately it was also twitching directly beneath Wing's nose. Crunching her shoulders up against the edge of the terrace she removed her free hand and clenched his ear tightly to make it stop before she sneezed and got them both caught. But the damage had already been done; she could feel an itching sensation building just below her eyes. Through watering eyes she glanced over at the Vultures, who had only sauntered a few more paces down the street. They were still too close, and she couldn't hold it anymore.
Shoving her face into Stork's neck she sneezed one of the violentest sneezes she'd ever sneezed. In another time she may have wondered in her weird little way if she were allergic to Merbs and probably would have laughed out loud. But right now the danger was all too real, and she was not going to get caught because of one stupid little bodily function.
The sneeze was so violent that it nearly dislodged them from their precarious position. But the sound was effectively muffled and the Vultures continued on their way none the wiser. Morons.
It was a good thing she'd kept her hand over Stork's mouth, though, because he nearly let out a howl that would put a wounded animal to shame when he felt spittle and God-knows-what-else splatter all over him. Wing waited until the Vultures had disappeared into the heart of the city before dropping to the ground and letting go of Stork. Only his fear made him keep his voice down.
"You sneezed on me!" he wailed, clawing at his neck. Wing shot him an irritated look, rubbing her stiff shoulders.
"Yeah, well, it was that or bring the whole city out to greet us!" she told him gruffly. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and wiped off the back of his neck roughly. "There, happy?"
"That won't help! Whatever sort of bacteria you blew all over me has probably entered my body via my pores by now!"
"Yes, because my mouth is full of hundreds of horrible viruses and bacterias that are just waiting to find a new host."
"Do you want to hear the list?"
"Look, this is wasting time. So I sneezed. Could have been worse." Wing said, leading the way up the street again. She had no idea where Falshade had gotten to.
"Yeah, right." Stork muttered, trailing after her and still rubbing his neck, feeling unclean.
Wing ignored him and crept up against the smooth wall of the Citadel. It sure looked like a factory alright, and the moment she set eyes on it, she didn't like it. It was too grungy and reeked of industry. Even now she could see acrid smoke being choked out of several of the tall smoke stacks. She was a product of pure, untamed jungle land, and the sight of this great, oozing chemical plant she felt slightly sick.
Stork looked around, uneasy all over again. "Where's the vent?" he whispered.
Wing swallowed down the acidic taste at the back of her mouth (was it possibly that you could actually taste pollution?) and looked around. "Piper said the intake vent was next to a maintenance shed along the south side of the wall. That must be it down there." she pointed to a small, metallic hut nestled at the end of a nearby alleyway. The two of them scurried down the short passage, Stork glancing nervously up at rooftops for any signs of their unwanted hosts. He needn't have worried though; Falshade was lurking up there and any unfortunate Vultures who may have been up there would have been overwhelmed in a second.
Wing had clambered up onto a rusty old dumpster and was peering into the slats of the vent. Stork eyed it with distaste; the thing was barely a two feet across in any direction.
Wing dug her fingers into the grooves along the sides of the vent, getting ready to lift the grate free. Stork yelped and pulled her away so suddenly she stumbled and fell off the dumpster.
"Ow! Stork, what the hell!"
"You can't just yank that grate off there! It could be rigged! They could have sensors set up inside that'll go off the moment you crawl in there and they'll release gas into the system, or trap you in there to slowly starve to death, or explode or-"
"Ok, ok, I get it. Check and make sure it's not rigged." she growled, massaging her elbow. "That was for sneezing on you, wasn't it?"
"Maybe." Stork said, examining the grate. He poked and prodded at it, delicately brushed the sides and each individual slat, peered at the smooth, stainless steel interior for any signs of a trap. Half of him wanted to find one so they could just get the hell out of there, but then a picture of a wide eyed, lost looking child being bared down upon by some great, ugly Vulture brute burst into his mind and he shook all thoughts of going back from his head.
"Anything?" Wing asked, climbing back up beside him.
"No."
"Good." Wing gripped the grate again and gave a heave, pulling it free from the shaft. The air around them seemed to be sucked gently into the vent, tugging Wing's hair along with it.
"Well, at least we won't suffocate." she said. "Ok, get in."
"What?"
"Get in. I'll follow."
"Why do I have to go first?" he bleated.
"Because I don't think I want you starring at my butt the whole way." Wing said unabashedly, folding her arms. Stork gawked at her. Of all the stupid….
Ok, he could be just as stubborn. "Well, maybe I don't want you starring at my butt." he said, sidling said part of himself away from her slightly.
Wing put her forehead in her hand. "Look, in case things get tight in there, I'm most likely to get stuck before you. I don't want to trap us both in there if I do. It makes more sense if you go first."
"No it doesn't! You're way smaller then me!"
"I've got bigger hips then you, pal."
"Yeah, well, I've got wider shoulders. If anything, I'll get stuck first. Besides, your hips aren't actually that big, it's that belt of yours that does it."
"Why thank you, but flattery is not going to get you out of this." Wing said stubbornly and Stork flushed like an idiot. "Look at it this way, who would you rather have behind you, me or Falshade?"
As if on que the panthera dropped down beside them like a detached piece of night sky. Stork eyed him apprehensively. She had a point, he really didn't want the jungle cat creeping along behind him in such a tight space. But he suddenly found a flaw in her little scheme and pointed it out, smugness lost due to the danger of the situation.
"And what happens when we have to open the grate at the other end?"
Wing cursed quietly and looked down the shaft again. "Touché. Fine, you win. I'll go first, then you and Falshade'll take up the rear."
Stork made a mocking little bow. "I mean, besides, ladies first and all."
"Skinny little wise ass.' Wing grumbled, lifting herself up and kicking off the wall to push herself into the vent. Fingers squealing against the shiny metal, she managed to heave herself inside, finding it to be a very tight fit indeed. Her broadsword was squashing her chest into the floor making it hard to breathe. Worried she was going to choke herself, she rolled over and attached her sword to the front of herself instead, feeling like she was a mother kola bear carrying her young on her belly. She glanced back with difficulty over her shoulder to see Stork struggling to pull himself into the shaft. It wasn't easy when there was nothing to hold on to.
"Grab my foot." she said, her voice echoing slightly. He did so and she crawled a few feet forwards, successfully dragging him into the vent. Falshade's claws made a slight screeching noise that made Wing and Stork flinch as he climbed in behind Stork.
Wasting no time Wing began to crawl on all fours through the vent like a mole in the earth. She could feel the air rushing past her, blowing her hair into her face and making her fingertips chilly and numb. It was hard to find grip on the sleek steel floor and the going felt painfully slow. Then again, she didn't really have anything to judge distance off of anyways. How far had Piper told them to go? Past five vents? Or was it six vents and two turns? Or maybe it was two vents and five turns?
Wing shook her head and accidentally banged it off the wall. Jesus it was tight in here! But she remembered now, it was three turns and six vents. The seventh vent would have them directly over the control room, and they were home free from there. Wing smiled at the thought of the shocked expressions that would be painted all over the Vultures' faces when their precious blaster cannons suddenly went off-line. After all, without those cannons they were just a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards. They were definitely compensating for something.
They past over the first grate without consequence. At the second one they could hear voices floating up from below. They paused and Wing leaned over the slats carefully, peering down into the room below. To men were bickering, one with a Vulture insignia scrawled on his back, and the other…
Wing drew in a hissing breath. "I knew it." she breathed. Standing directly below was a rather scrawny looking Talon.
"Cyclonians?" Stork breathed from behind her and Wing nodded. She was fighting the urge to drop down upon the little bastard's head and rip it by hand from his shoulders. But that wasn't what she was here to do, and so, with all her will power, she ignored him and turned to look at Stork and Falshade.
"Go very softly." she whispered and carefully edged over the grate. Stork and Falshade followed suit without disturbing the two arguing men below and like three little spiders they continued along into the bowels of the Citadel.
They passed two more grates and tow turns before they were suddenly presented with a problem. Straight a head of them was a dead end.
"That can't be right! Piper said three turns, six grates! We can't have missed it!" Wing said frustratedly, punching her thigh.
It was then that Wing realized Piper had made and error in her calculations. The floor plan on which she had studied was one dimensional and didn't show the multi-level complex in which the ventilation system snaked through. Now as Wing rotated her head upwards, she found the direction in which the remaining grates lay.
"Oh, fuck." she said, starring up the vertical shaft and trying to gauge its distance.
Stork squashed himself up next to her and looked up as well. "Yeah, there's no way we're getting up that thing.
"Stork, it's the only way, we've got to try!" Wing said, trying to work out a plan. The shaft only went up about twenty-five feet, it wasn't impossible...
A sudden noise grabbed her attention and she peered intently at the silvery floor beneath her. She tried to tune out Stork as he prattled on about his calculations of their success of climbing up the shaft.
"…And even if we could wedge ourselves up there there's no room to move, we'd get stuck. There's no way we can get any hand holds, and if we fall we're going to go right through the floor. Not to mention… what are you doing?"
"Shhh!" Wing said, pushing him back the way he'd come slightly so she could lay an ear to the cold floor.
That, of course, set off Stork's strung nerves, and he was anything but quiet. "Why? What's going on? You hear something? What is it? Is it a hissing noise? Gas! I knew it! We're doomed!"
"Stork, be quiet, I can't-" Wing tried to calm him when she suddenly picked out a sound from the jumble of noises that had been pulsing their way through the metal: it was a faint buzzing, barley detectable but horribly familiar.
She didn't know how she did it, but she managed to fling herself into Stork, sending them reeling through the tiny space (which was just as painful as it sounds) and into Falshade, successfully shoving them all back about three feet just as a red bolt of crystal energy tore through the shaft directly below where they'd been hunched up a moment ago. With a grinding sound a portion of the shaft's supports gave way, cause their tunnel to turn into a miniature slide. Wing dug her nails into the slippery metal but only succeeded in ripping two of her them clean out. And then she was falling towards the hole in the vent. Stork was a little farther ahead then her and was out of harms way, for the moment anyways. He tried to grab her but she was sliding too fast and he missed.
Wing came down directly between two Vultures. They must have expected her to be stunned or something, because they certainly did not see her reaction coming. They probably thought she'd stay on the floor like a good little girl.
Wing hit the ground all action. The moment she had something solid beneath her she was moving. Lashing out with one leg she caught the closest Vulture in the shins with a completely horizontal side-swipe, knocking him to his feet. She hit the next one in the midrift, turning her body into a living missile. He went down under her and hard too, cracking his head against the wall and knocking him out cold.
The first Vulture was struggling back to his feet, pulling out his cutlass as he did so. Wing was the quicker though and she had her scimitar's tip a palm's width from his throat before he could blink. He dropped his cutlass and raised his arms for mercy. Wing's snap kick caught him right in the gut, and as he doubled she smashed her scimitar's hilt into his face, throwing him back up straight again. He teetered for a second before her second kick slammed him square in the face, blasting him into oblivion, and into the wall like his comrade.
There was nothing more she hated then Vultures. Except Cyclonians.
Wing tore off a long strip of her sleeve. It was already ripped anyways, from falling out of the jagged hole in the vent most likely. Ripping it into two pieces she quickly began to gag the first of the two Vultures. She figured they'd be out for awhile, but you couldn't be too careful.
Stork was still cowering up in the vent. He'd heard the commotion down below. Wing was probably bound and gagged by now, or worse and he knew it was only a matter of time before they'd fire a second round into the shaft. He tried to turn around and scurry back along the shaft, a slim chance of survival lying in that direction, but he couldn't get around Falshade, was desperately struggling to go in the opposite direction after Wing. He snarled in frustration at Stork and he sobbed, thinking he was either going to get torn open by an energy blast or ripped apart by the panthera. Either way he was going to die shortly and painfully.
Something banged on the floor below him and he cringed into a tight little ball, trying to make himself as small as possible in hopes that maybe, somehow, the first shot would miss him.
"Hey!" Wing's voice was muffled, but it was definitely hers and it made Stork's ears shoot straight up they were so surprised to hear it. "You two alright?"
Falshade let out an overjoyed yowl and shoved his way past Stork, crushing him against the side of the vent. He had difficulty getting his wings though the hole in the vent but that didn't hold him back. He squirmed through and bowled Wing over, swiping his rough tongue over her face happily.
"Alright, alright, enough." Wing said, playfully shoving he feline friend off of her and getting back to her feet. Stork was looking down at her in disbelief via the hole in the vent.
"Get outta there, we have to go!" Wing said, using some rope she'd attached to her belt before they'd left to tie the two Vultures (now both expertly gagged) together.
Stork was gawking at her. "You're not dead!" he blurted after several seconds of scissoring his mouth stupidly.
"Sorry to disappoint you. Get out of the vent."
"I'm not disappointed." Stork said dumbly.
"Oh, well, thanks then. Get out of the freaking vent."
"I, um, can't." Stork said, still in a bit of shock.
"Just jump."
"I can't." Well, he could, but he didn't think his legs would be able to support him if he did. How many times had he evaded death in the last twenty minutes?
Wing though he might be hurt and was suddenly worried. She had shoved him through a very tight space rather roughly, remember. "Did I hurt you? Does anything feel broken?" she asked, suddenly very concerned about him.
"No… well, not broken…"
"Can you still move your arms?" Wing had a sudden idea.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Show me."
Stork extended one arm down though the hole to show her. She grabbed hold of his hand quicker then he could pull it back and with a jerk that nearly wrenched his shoulder out of socket she yanked him out of the vent. He came tumbling down with a squawk and she caught him bridal-style in her arms.
"Jeez, you're as light as a bag of potatoes, you know that?" she asked, setting him on his feet gently, which was awkward because he was taller then she was.
"I probably way more then you do." Stork said, taking her comment offensively because she was acting like more of a man then he was. No John McClane in his blood, not a drop.
"We can discuss the whole height-weight thing later. Help me get these two into that closet there and then we've got to hurry." Wing said, dragging one Vulture towards said closet by the armpits. She was pure Die Hard, he decided. That or purely insane.
Stork grabbed the other Vulture gingerly and tugged him across the floor, his feet dragging limply.
After shoving both Vultures in the closet and locking the door from the inside, Wing looked up at the damaged vent and cursed quietly.
"Damnit, how are supposed to know which way we have to go to get to the control room if we don't have the vent to follow?"
Stork tried to remember the route the Piper had traced along on the map. He supposed he should have been paying more attention in case this very sort of thing happened. His worst case scenarios were so far-fetched that he hadn't really prepared for, you know situations that might actually happen.
He did have a pretty good photographic memory, however. He knew there had to be some stairs somewhere, if the control room was above them… and the corridor really did only go one way. He was sure he remembered a place on the map where there were some stairs located.
"Follow me." he said half heartedly and began to creep silently down the hallway.
"Got it. You lead, I'll hit." Wing said, cracking her neck and grinning like a werewolf.
Stork hoped they wouldn't run into anymore Vultures and not just for his sake either.
"What I want to know is how did those creeps know we were in the vent? Was it just bad luck that they were under us when we were talking? Or find out we were in there somehow? And were they the only one's who knew?" Wing pondered aloud as the three of them skittered down the hallway.
"Let's hope so." Stork said, skidding to a halt as he nearly past the flight of stairs he'd been looking for. "Come on, up here."
"You sure?" Wing asked, following him more faithfully then her question might have suggested.
"Not really. But that shaft slanted upwards, remember? The control room's gotta be up here somewhere. Unless Piper was wrong and we took the wrong vent…" he trailed off to let them both think of what sort of consequences would arise if they had taken the wrong vent. Their whole plan would be ruined if they had.
The stairs curved sharply as if the were racing up the inside of a tower. Stork lost his count of the number of stairs and looked up in time to see a group of about twelve Vultures waiting to greet them at the top of the stairs. He tried to stop and ended up falling to his knees right in front of them.
Wing had a little more time to react.
"Stork, duck!" she yelled as three of the Vultures moved to grab him, the other nine drawing their blades. Stork didn't need telling twice.
One swipe of her fiery broadsword sent a rolling wave of flames crashing towards the Vultures. Some of them leapt out of the way with startled cries of alarm, but the three who had been in the very front and another who had frozen in shock after seeing that wall of fire coming towards him were not so lucky. They were hit by the deadly inferno straight on, their uniforms lighting immediately under the intense heat. They screamed in fear and agony, two dropping to the ground and desperately trying to put out the flames, one running back down the way he'd come and the fourth pitching himself blindly down the stairs, falling right past Wing and out of sight.
Falshade joined in then.
With a roar that stole whatever courage the Vultures may have had left after seeing their comrades burst into flames, Falshade leapt into the thick of them, bringing one down beneath him and catching another around the ankles with a sweep from one massive paw, wrenching his feet out from under him and tearing open his Achilles Tendon with his claws. The Vulture screamed and crumpled, clutching at his legs and not even noticing as Falshade sprang over his head after another victim. Unfortunately, Falshade also didn't notice one Vulture whip out his thin blade as the jungle cat took another guard down from behind. More out of fear then courage, the Vulture raised his sword and attempted to stab it into Falshade's rib cage.
Wing blasted into him, the flat side of her broadsword leading in a mighty back hand swipe that made the Vulture stagger back, strength zapped from his arm. Boot then solid broadsword hilt smashed in rapid succession into the Vulture's face before he could get his cutlass back up, breaking his nose and knocking him out cold.
Stork was huddled on the stairs, unable to look away from the unfolding fight. The Vultures whose clothing had caught on fire were lying still now, smouldering slightly, as were the three that Falshade had brought down. The one with the wounded ankle was quivering and heaving where he'd fallen and Stork almost felt sorry for him. Until one of his remaining companions, who must have noticed the immobile Merb, attacked him out of nowhere.
The Vulture crashed into him, sending them both reeling back down the stairs. Steps flashed past them as the tumbled backwards. He barely had time to let out a strangled yelp before his horrible ride had stopped, the Vulture pinning him over three stairs and wrapping terribly strong hands around his thin neck. Stork's survival instincts kicked in and he kicked at the Vulture's legs, but the larger, stronger human didn't even notice. Stork felt an urgent pressure building behind his eyes as the Vulture's grip tightened around his throat. Stork gagged and choked and struggled but he couldn't get the Vulture's grip to loosen. His vision was growing fuzzy around the edges as he tried to cry out for help. The Vulture laughed at him, ugly face contorted in demented glee as he watched Stork slowly suffocate beneath him.
Wing clashed blades with a weedy little Vulture wretch, one who was barley bigger then she was but most definitely older. He seemed a little more collected then his frightened pirate friends, and as their blades crossed he leaned over the two gleaming swords and made a smoochy face at her.
"Why don't you put that blade down, sweetheart?" he purred to her, putrid breath washing sickeningly over her face.
"Why don't you go fuck yours?" she snarled, rolling her blade over his and then flipping it back under his and across his gut, tearing him open. He howled like a dying beast and collapsed, clutching futilely at the volcanic wound that was spread across his torso.
She glanced over at Falshade, who was chasing down the last two remaining Vultures who had abandoned their fellows and were fleeing like cowards. Well, they were cowards, but you know…
Something was nagging at Wing as she looked around. Something didn't add up here. Falshade was after two of them, and he'd taken down three others… four had been hit by her wave of fire…she'd taken down another two by hand…. that only made eleven. But she'd been so sure there'd been twelve of them.
She then realized that Stork was no longer sitting at the top of the stairs where she'd left him and something horrible and cold clenched her insides like a giant stone fist. She was at the top of the stairs in two long strides and was presented abruptly with the whereabouts of both the missing Vulture and her missing partner.
A monstrous rage seized hold of her when she saw Stork being strangled by that Vulture. A rage she'd long ago forgotten and yet she remembered it the moment it roared up in her chest. A rage she had sorely missed.
Stork's eyes fluttered and she lost it.
She launched herself from the top of the stairs with a warrior cry that would have frozen the Dark Ace's heart in his black chest. She forgot all about her swords as she flung herself towards that Vulture's back. She could have torn him apart with her bare hands, such was her fury.
The Vulture chose to turn his head at exactly the wrong moment. One of Wing's boots thundered into his jaw as she pounded into him, all one hundred and twenty pounds of her. He was thrown off of Stork and pitched down the rest of the stairs, tumbling head over heels as Wing gripped his collar and dug her knees into his gut, pulling him along with her in a ferocious roll down the entire flight of stairs.
About two-thirds of the way down the vile wretch saw a sudden advantage and snatched at it. As he plunged over Wing's lithe little body, he kicked his own legs into her chest, sending her flying over him to land in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. He continued his roll until he was crouched on his feet, eight stairs up and looking down at a stunned and disorientated Wing. With a harsh laugh he flung himself down towards her in a similar way that she had used to attack him.
Wing rolled onto her back, groggy but not finished yet. A blur of movement flying towards her set off her senses and with a reflex that had become as natural to her as if she'd been born with it, she tore her scimitar out of its sheath and held it on an angle in front of her body, the most effective shield you could ever have.
The Vulture never saw it coming. And even if he did, there was no way he would have been able to stop himself.
He exploded into Wing's vision so suddenly it made her start. His decent was abruptly halted as Wing's scimitar bit deep into his chest, his momentum so great that the tip of it burst out again through his spine, spraying blood in all directions. The hilt of Wing's scimitar punched into her stomach as the full weight of the Vulture came crashing down on it. He was dead within three second, his dull eyes staring down at Wing blankly and lifelessly as his body collapsed on hers, head lolling on dead shoulders.
Wing rolled over and shoved him off in disgust and then lay on the cold stone floor for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and feeling everywhere on her body that had hit the stairs on the way down. Nothing was broken, but she knew she was going to be black and blue the next day.
She pushed herself into a sitting position and then stood up gingerly. She grasped the handle of her scimitar and pulled it out of the Vulture's chest, which was still oozing blood. She wiped it across his back and then slid it back into its scabbard. And then she remembered Stork.
She dashed back up the stairs to where he she'd left him. Falshade was sitting on the stair above him, looking as worried as a big cat possibly could. He was growling softly and nuzzling Stork's cheek. Stork himself look horrible; there was a bluish tinge under his eyes and his throat was bruised an ugly shade of brown and purple. At first Wing thought he wasn't breathing and her heart nearly stopped. But then she could pick out the faint, shallow rising and falling of his thin chest and she felt a small trickle of hope.
Dropping beside him she grabbed him by the shoulders and gently lifted his upper body from the steps, cradling him against her softly. "Stork?" she whispered, feeling more afraid then she had in a very long time.
For moment he didn't make a sound and she though the worst. But then he groaned lowly and she could have laughed out loud in relief.
"Stork! Are you ok? I'm so sorry, I should have been there sooner. Are you ok?" she asked in a rush, turning him to face her. He looked like he was having trouble keeping her in focus.
"S'alright." he said groggily, rubbing his neck tenderly. "M'okay."
For some reason, him reassuring her that he was alright made her even more worried. "Did you hit your head?" she asked, feeling the back of his skull to check for any damage.
"Dunno…pro'lly." Stork said, feeling like he'd definitely cracked, if not broke, a couple ribs.
"Can you breathe ok?"
"Y-yeah." Stork said thickly. His throat felt extremely sore. His vision was blurry too, and her face kept swimming in and out of focus. He blinked several times and took a few deep breaths to re-oxygenate his brain and that made things a little better. He finally got a good look at her and was surprised to see what he thought, if he didn't know her any better, was a trickle of tears running over her cheeks.
"Are you ok?" he asked, wondering if she may have gotten hurt.
She turned her face away from him and wiped a hand over her face roughly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just… oh, god, when I saw you lying there I thought you were dead."
Stork prodded his arm a few times. "Nope, definitely still alive." he said. She'd been that worried about him? He didn't really see Wing as the crying type.
She laughed a little and let him go. "Can you still walk?" she asked, rubbing Falshade's neck as he bumped his head into her reassuringly.
"Yeah, I think so." he said trying to get up and finding that his one leg couldn't support him properly. He'd probably hurt it when he'd been flung down the stairs. He fell back to his knees. "Er, nope."
Wing pushed herself under his arm and helped him up the stairs slowly. It was slow going because she was so much shorted then he was. He glanced down at her and realized the front of her shirt was soaked in blood.
He sprang away from her, nearly falling over when his lame lag buckled under him and only just managed to catch himself against the wall. "You're bleeding!" he exclaimed, sounding accusing even though he hadn't meant to.
Wing looked down at herself and then shook her head. "It's not mine, don't worry." she said. She looked both ways down the corridor. "Which way?"
"Uh, we were following the vent east… so right, then." Stork said, worried about her and more then a little freaked out; he had no idea what she'd done to that Vulture who'd tried to choke him to death, but he had a feeling he didn't want to know either.
She shoved herself under his arm again and the two of them staggered down the corridor they way he had directed. After a few moments Wing noticed a ventilation shaft jut out from the wall and snake along overhead, going the same way down the corridor that they were.
"Think that's our shaft?" she asked, jerking her head at it. Stork squinted up at it, his vision still a little fuzzy.
"Let's hope so." he said. He suddenly felt like he was holding her back, and he didn't like it. "Why don't… why don't you go and look ahead, to see if you can find the control room? You'll be able to find it much faster without having to drag me along." It took a lot of his courage to say that; the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.
"You sure?" Wing said, stopping so she could look at him seriously.
He nodded, his throat feeling glued together.
Wing looked down the long corridor. "Okay. I'll leave Falshade with you. I'll be right back, I promise." she eased him over against the wall and then took off down the hall, following the vent.
Stork looked around, nerves stretched to the breaking point. Falshade must have sensed his uneasy, because he rubbed against him gently as if to comfort him. Stork scratched around his wings absently, watching the opposite corridor for any signs of activity. He tested his leg delicately, to try and figure out what was wrong with it. And if he'd be able to run if he had to.
It hurt a lot around his knee, but it felt a little stronger. He must have only bashed it. He'd been worried he'd twisted it, or broken something… another instant when his paranoid little mind got ahead of itself. Just a bruise. Ok.
His thoughts were being splintered again. "Jeez, am I really such a nervous wreck?" he thought. Part of him immediately answered "yes". He growled at that part of him. He was not. He just didn't really like being… here. He didn't realize it 'til just now, but he missed Wing, when she wasn't there. He always felt safe on the Condor. Anywhere else he felt exposed and powerless. He felt like some bigger predator could pick him off at any moment. But at least when his squadron was around he didn't feel quite so… defenceless? No, that didn't cover it. He didn't feel quite so alone, and he meant that more then literally. He'd only realized when she'd gone, but Wing had made him feel slightly less unsafe. He wished he hadn't suggested she leave.
And just like that, she was back at his side. "We're in trouble." she whispered. "I think they know we're here."
His breathing caught in his throat. "Did you see any more of them?"
She shook her head. "But I can hear them about. They're looking for something, three guesses what. I found the control room though. It's not too far. Come on."
She took off down the hall again and he tried to limp as fast as he could after her. She must have forgotten he was hurt until she realized he was falling behind; she skidded to a halt and came back for him. "Sorry." she muttered, helping him along again.
She stopped outside a gleaming metal door and sent a Striker bolt into the lock, breaking the mechanisms and rendering the door helpless. She shoved it open with her shoulder and the three of them squeezed inside.
The room on the inside was definitely the control center of the whole Citadel. There was no doubt about it. Stork had never seen so many different screens and switches and buttons and levers. Pulsing lights in a rainbow of hues glowed and flickered along the massive metal counter like a million little heart beats. He gulped as he limped over and peered down at them. This could take ages to find the right switches. He considered just short circuiting the whole system, but that wouldn't cut it; a few days at the most and the Vultures could have the whole nest humming again, and they'd be exactly back where they started. He needed to hack into the system and permanently disable it.
Cracking his green digits, he got to work. The clock was ticking.
Wing came over beside him, looking at the massive circuit board with a bleak expression on her face. "Oh, man, that's a lot of technology. I don't know anything about computers. Are you going to be able to shut this monster down?"
Stork's eye twitched slightly as he carefully pressed a small green button. A small, pixely message in green letters flashed across one of the nearby mini-screens. "Well… there's a ton of mini-systems all linked to this big control unit. Around three thousand, give or take. If I can find the right one I can shut down the blaster cannons and the lights first, and then I can try to break into the main stream control center and scramble the codes so the whole system will be terminated…that's considering we don't get busted first, and if I can actually find the right command files… and break the codes."
Wing groaned. "Couldn't we just punch a whole whack of buttons and overload the system?"
"We could, but that'll only be temporary. All they'd have to do its reboot the system. Then they'll have the whole city fortified again."
"So why not just terminate the system first, shut them down in one feel swoop."
"That'll take longer. I'm working on my priorities here. If they know we're here then there's a good chance they might send out some scouts and find the others. Or attack the village. If we can at least get those kids out of here first, which requires shutting down their security so we'll be on an even playing ground, even though they out number us a gazillion to one…"
"Cut to the chase, Stork."
"Anyways, we get the kids out of here after I bring the cannons down, we can just…destroy this 'monster' here and bring the whole place crashing down around their heads. That way their nice little hidey-hole will be ruined and they'll have to leave. Hopefully we can get some reinforcements and take them one before they get away, but that probably won't happen."
"Why don't we destroy it right now?" Wing asked, pulling out her broadsword. Stork grabbed her wrist with a yelp.
"No! You don't get it! Scrambling the system's codes and hacking into the nucleus of this thing will shut down everything. But if we just destroy it… bad things could happen. Theoretically if this room is the nervous system of the whole Citadel then if we destroy it it could, say, send scrambled messages to the generators in their boiler room and the whole place will go BOOM!"
"Oh. That's a problem." Wing said, putting her sword away again. "But if we don't shut them down in time, they'll just boot it up again, like you said, and they'll stay here and do everything all over again. This place will be their stronghold!"
"Exactly. So stop distracting me and let us hope it doesn't come to that."
Wing looked at him seriously. "What are the chances that if we pull a kamikaze up here with this thing that it'll really blow the place?"
"Uh… two in a million, maybe? But I'm not going to take that chance."
"If we have to, I'm sticking my sword in this mother fucker. After those kids are out of here. Agreed?"
Stork massaged his temples. "Like I said, lets hope it doesn't come to that."
Wing swallowed down the gravity of the situation. Stork knew what he was doing. He'd get the system down before it came to that, she made herself believe it.
"What can I do to help?"
"Um, be quiet and guard the door. You're the Brawns in this operation, and the Brain needs some time to think." Stork said, pushing another button as tentatively as if it were attached to a pack of dynamite tied to his chest.
Wing let the remark slide (she could be brainy too, damnit!) and joined Falshade by the door.
Stork flipped two switched upwards and a menu screen flared on the screen above them. He tapped two buttons excitedly, thinking for a moment he was on to something, and then slumped when he realized it wasn't the right file.
"What I don't get is why, if this room is important as you say, wasn't it guarded?" Wing asked, her ear pressed against the cold metal door.
"Well, it was locked." Stork said, trying another switch. "And they're pirates, remember. They don't have two brain cells to rub together when it comes to this sort of thing. They probably don't even realize how important it is. I bet they turned everything on in this place manually."
"That's why evolution gave us arms." Wing muttered. She hated technology, it gave her the creeps.
Falshade was lying flat on his belly, legs bent and muscles coiled, ready to spring. He growled lowly as footsteps sounded outside their door. Wing held her breath and twisted her hand around the hilt of her scimitar, but the footsteps kept going, their owners oblivious to them. For now anyways.
Stork had found the system's menu and was scrolling through all the applications. He'd been wrong about the number of systems. There wasn't three thousand; there was two thousand eight hundred and twenty seven.
He opened up one file and though he might be on to something again. He pushed several buttons all at once and a flap snapped open next to him, revealing a new row of switches. Now he was faced with a dilemma. How in hell was he supposed to know if anything happened when he flipped those switches if he was boxed up in here?
"Hey, tell me if you see any emergency lights go on or anything." he called to Wing, making ready to flip the first switch.
"Where, out there?" Wing motioned to the door.
"No, in here. If I flick one of these more then likely it'll light up some other buttons… or something... just keep an eye out."
"All these lights are hurting my eyes." Wing commented as she watched a sector on the desk. "Can we turn the lights on in here or something?"
"Yeah, that won't give us away." Stork said. "Just watch the damn lights, ok?"
Wing made a snarly noise at him irritably and did as she was told. She wasn't really annoyed with him, but she hated just sitting here and waiting for the Vultures to find them, it made her nerves brittle and snappy.
Stork flipped one of the switches. "Anything?"
"Nope."
He glanced over at the screen frustratedly and realized he didn't need her to check the lights. The tiny screen had flicked to a new little blurb, which told him exactly what he had done: 'Subterranean Passage #3-14 West Door, Locked.'
Oh. Hello. "Ok, never mind. Go back and watch the door." This place had a subterranean level?
"Yes, your majesty." Wing grumbled under her breath. "Watch the door, be quiet, come here, watch for the lights, go back to the door… ungrateful, wise-ass Merb."
Stork ignored her, knowing full well that she knew he knew he could hear her and clicked a different application in the file. A new set of buttons lighted and he pushed one to see what would happen: 'Second level Room #27-C, locked.'
Great, so he was locking doors. That really contributed to the mission. Good, job, Stork, master door locker. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He went back the main menu and tried another system-file. Usually he loved when things were organized, but when he had hundreds of systems all with hundreds of files and with hundreds of selections, he wasn't so happy.
The next file turned the vent systems on or off. Ok, now he was getting somewhere. Now he knew this wasn't the system that held the Cannon Blaster controls. One down, tow thousand, eight hundred and twenty six to go. Woo-hoo.
Something or someone suddenly collided with the door, sending it crashing into Wing's forehead. Dazedly only her survival instincts made her rush back and slam the broken door shut again.
"Guess we're 'it'" she slurred before shaking her head and rubbing the bump swelling on her head, snapping out of it. Stork was petrified in the middle of hunting through a new file. "Oi, we ain't finished yet! Keep looking. We'll hold 'em off." Wing said, clicking her fingers to wake him up.
"We know you're in there, you little worms!" a rough voice crowed from the other side of the door. "Come on out and play!"
"They asked for it." Wing said to Falshade, ripping out her broadsword. She glanced back at Stork, trying to convey some measure of hope and reassurance to him. "Keep looking." she said before wrenching the door open.
There was a miniature army waiting for them outside the door. Of the dozens of them, though, none were expecting Falshade.
They saw that door opening and they cackled with glee, all of them eager to be the first to get their hands on those troublesome little pests who had somehow managed to weasel their way into their fortress. But the moment that door opened, the immediately wished it shut.
Falshade shot out as if he'd been spring loaded behind that door, three hundred pounds of muscle and fangs. He brought them down of them down with his initial leap, scattering many more of them in fear. He raked his claws down open any who were trapped beneath him before springing at another, jaws closing around said Vulture's shoulder and squeezing down with hundreds of pounds of pressure per inch and crushing the Vulture's collar bone with a gut wrenching crunch. The man screamed and bawled like a newborn baby and fell to his knees, and Falshade leapt after his next victim.
Wing's attack came unexpectedly after the panthera's blow. Several of the Vultures turned back to the door after watching their companions being taken down like deer beneath the ferocious jungle cat in time to see a rolling wave of red heat crashing towards them. None of them ducked in time.
Wing charged in behind her deadly blast of fire and right into the thick of now stunned Vultures, none of whom who were expecting such a violent attack. Wing smashed them apart with wide, two handed sweeps of her broadsword. She glanced through the mass of tangled bodies and saw Falshade grappling with four Vultures who thought they could over power the cat with numbers. She hurled a charge from her scimitar at them, hitting on right in the back and sending him sprawling to the floor. Falshade was able to take care of the other three without breaking a sweat. You know, if cats could sweat…
A sudden blow against her broadsword, which she'd left at half height in front of her like a shield, sent her staggering back in surprise. Someone had taken advantage of her distraction. Bastard!
She looked into the face of not a Vulture but a Talon, and a chunky one too, who was leering like a demon at her.
Ok, A) he'd hit her while she wasn't looking. Now that's bad form, although she expected nothing less from the scum that got spat out of the fetid cess pools of Cyclonia.
And B) There was nothing in all of Atmos she hated more then Vultures. Except Cyclonians.
Sure this guy was big and tough and bulky. But she was about to pack a punch with four years worth of burning hatred behind it.
He didn't have a chance.
He broadsword connected so solidly with his long sword that it sliced right through it and blasted through the other side, right into the Talon's side and clean through, cauterizing the wound even before it could bleed. The brute didn't even have time to scream as he fell, quite literally, apart.
Gross, yes. Satisfying? Ohhhhhhh, yeah.
Wing could see more of the Cyclonian's emblems filtering into the ranks, and she felt that rage roiling inside of her again. And her vision turned red.
Stork was madly hammering different buttons, trying to desperately find the right file. He was so sure he was getting closer and he was flicking through file after file like a junkie. He tried to tune out the commotion in the hallway behind him, but it was hard to ignore the agonized screams and the horrible splattering noises. He kept thinking that it was only a matter of time until one of those screams would be Wing's and then it would be all over.
Something caught his eye and he scrolled down to it so fast he had to go back over it again. He opened it, heart galloping wildly. Could this be….?
He punched the small blue button that had flared up when he selected the file and another row of switches were suddenly revealed to him, sixteen of them all with a small square of green light glowing beneath them. Holding his breath he snapped the first one up and hesitantly looked at the screen:
"Proximity Blaster Cannon #1-East, offline."
He'd found it.
He stood, stunned, for a second, and then the weight of his victory hit him and his face cracked into a wicked little grin. Flipping three switches at a time he flicked off the other cannons, shacking with relief and from the adrenaline that had been spiking his blood for the past half and hour.
With trembling hands he went back to the system and opened a new file, this on that only required four switches. It controlled the spot lights up on the walls. He flicked them off and then accessed the tower lights as well, turning all of them off.
Okay, that was the signal. At any moment the others would be storming into the Citadel to rescue those kids. And now he was free to bring in the Condor, as soon as he terminated the whole system. He knew how to get into that file, at least.
Further down the counter was another sector, this one a little less cluttered of multi-coloured distractions. He turned on the computer screen their impatiently as he heard something heavy hit the outside wall. There was a roar from Falshade and Stork hoped he was alright as he began punching in numbers on the key pad. So many sequences, and he was running out of time…
Outside Wing had just finished ripping her blade back out of the gut of one unfortunate Talon when his presence flooded over her. She knew he was there before she even saw him, his aura infecting her like a chill wind. She turned slowly to face him, and even though she'd never seen him before in her life she knew in a heart beat who he was.
The Dark Ace.
He cleared a path through Vulture and Talon alike, without a sound, without a touch, without question. He was smiling wickedly at her, his eyes shining with the type of anticipation and joy only a psychotic killer like himself could enjoy. Heartless, blood red eyes that shone through Wing's bloodlust haze and pierced directly into her heart. She felt bile rise in her throat and she straightened defiantly, her heart beating strangely slowly in her chest, contrary to the wild and erratic hammering it had been doing a moment ago. Her fingers curled around the warm hilts of both her trusted blades, blood bubbling from between her clenched fingers. She clenched her jaw and matched his stare, her eyes burning with fury and a hatred she'd never felt towards any other being before or since. Blue orbs connected with red and in that silence the seemed to echo with a million screams, Wing declared him her mortal enemy.
He didn't even know who she was, but that raw hatred in her eyes didn't go unnoticed, eyes that seemed slightly familiar. He knew that look so very well. And he laughed.
And Wing lost her mind.
The next few minutes stretched for an eternity. She heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing. Her anger, her hatred, her pain, even the familiar feeling of her beating heart and the solid hilts of her blades in her hands left her with nothing but one thing; a pure, consuming raw desire. The desire to kill.
She attacked with both blades, years of training falling in the face of sheer warrior instincts. She went beyond the clutches of any fighter or hunter or predator. She became a monster, and if she'd had any of her sanity left, she might have been afraid, not for herself, but of herself.
This, too, was something the Dark Ace knew all too well.
Blades pounded into each other, sparks bursting between them, the ring of metal lost upon Wing's deaf ears. She may have screamed, she didn't know. She went beyond her reflexes and abilities, instinct taking over. Nothing else mattered, nothing, nothing, nothing…
She didn't even know if she breathed. She knew she'd nicked his arm, and she knew he'd nicked her's, but she couldn't feel it. Wing had once been told about a warrior's vibe, a place a fighter could settle in where they could virtually fight for hours, their reflexes and movements thoughtless and flawless, where their weapons became extensions of their own arms and where pain and fear meant nothing. She'd also heard of the Fever, an all consuming madness that sometimes took over overwhelmed soldiers, where they just kept attacking and attacking until their flesh could no long support them, they were so beyond reason. And Wing knew that thins was neither of those things. This was nothing. It was the Abyss, the point between life and death. There was nothing here. This was nothing.
And she didn't like it one bit.
But monsters don't feel. They just do. And so she kept slamming into the Dark Ace, blades screeching together and apart, sparks exploding like star fuel between them. And her eyes never broke away from his. She wanted to see the light leave those eyes. She wanted to watch him die. And she wanted him to see that too. She wanted him to be afraid of her.
Perhaps he did see that. Perhaps he just wanted this to be over with. Either way he jerked back from her suddenly and raised his swords, armed with a new firebolt crystal, above his head. As she charged at him, he whipped it downwards, sending a blast of energy screaming towards her. It caught her right in the chest.
Stork was jabbing buttons with such urgency that his fingertips were starting to hurt. Whoever built this stupid thing should be hunt down and covered in leeches for a few hours. It was scary to think there were some people out there who were smart enough (or psychotic enough) to not only think of something like this, but build and program it too! Stork made a mental note to never, ever get caught up in the technical trade. Well, any more then he already was.
Something came careening into the room then and slammed forcefully into the circuit board, scaring the shit out of him. Miniature red forks of lightning shot off it and burrowed into the computer, short circuiting the immediate sector. The thing convulsed and made a strange noise and that was when Stork realized what it was. Or rather, who.
Wing.
Her black hair was snapping with red electricity and her eyes were half hooded and blank. Her chest was flutteringly erratically like a small bird's who had perhaps hit a window and was now fighting for its last few breaths of air. And she was smoking slightly, as if she'd been burned.
Stork's heart froze in his chest. His thoughts didn't just splinter, they exploded and blew away like dust. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to move, how to breathe… he'd seen his team-mates in danger before, but never…
Cold arms grabbed him and wrenched him back from the controls. Two Talons had him, but he wasn't exactly putting up a fight anyways. He could only watch as the Dark Ace himself sauntered in, casting him a quick, unconcerned glance before grabbing Wing by the front of her shirt and lifting her off the controls. She coughed feebly and blinked at him with a groan.
"Well, well, lost our steam, have we?" he asked in that horribly dark voice of his. "And we were just starting to have fun."
"Get your…slimey hands... off me." Wing choked and the Dark Ace laughed, a sound which was echoed by his minions all about the room.
"You can act tough, girly, but we all know what you really are." he said, lifting her chin so he could get a good look at her tattoo. "A coward."
Wing coughed up a chuckle. Stork had to admire her then; she'd been hit bad and their situation had suddenly gotten very dire and she was still able to laugh in the Dark Ace's face, the very man who'd stolen almost her entire family from her.
"I'm the coward?" she wheezed. "I guess that's easy for you to say with your hundreds of lackeys to back you up."
The Dark Ace's face didn't change but his breathing hitched very slightly. He lifted a pale hand and for a moment Stork thought he was going to hit her, but then he slid his fingertips under her chin and angled it upwards so he could see the tattoo of the Gryphon on her neck. "I thought I recognized that symbol. A Shadow Stryker, are we? But that can't be… you were all destroyed. I'd know."
Stork didn't like the way he was looking at her. He didn't like that fact that he was touching her. It made him feel sick.
"Let her go!" he snapped so suddenly it surprised even him.
"Stork?" Wing croaked. She felt so confused, so drained…words took longer to reach her and her vision was hazy. She felt like she was falling.
'Snap out of it, Wing' she told herself.
One of Stork's captors twisted his arm slightly. "Any more requests?" he growled and Stork shook his head with a tiny whimper.
"You look a lot like you're father." The Dark Ace whispered in Wing's ear, and maybe only Stork heard him thanks to his long ears. "Would it soothe you to know that it was my blade that claimed his life…..while you were hiding?"
It was almost ironic that it was the one who had stolen her strength that suddenly also gave it back.
"YOU BASTARD!" Wing screamed, startling all in the room. "Stork? Where are you?"
Stork struggled slightly. She must not have noticed him get captured in her daze. "I'm still here." he assured her and then let out a cry when his captor twisted his arm again, and would have broken his arm at the elbow if it weren't for Wing's reaction.
Punching her knees into the Dark Ace's stomach she wriggled out of his grasp and rounded on Stork's captors.
"GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF HIM!" she exploded, sounding so feral and so deadly that they actually did let go. "TOUCH HIM AGAIN AND I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!"
Stork stared at her, wild eyed. He couldn't believe someone so small could be so loud and terrifying.
Wing had dropped her weapons and a few Talons, after looking at each other fearfully, moved forwards as if to grab her. One of them took a snap kick right in the knee joint, his leg crumpling beneath him. Another grabbed hold of her arm, only to have himself spun around so Wing was behind him and with her own arm around his neck. With a sickening snap she twisted his head to the side, breaking his neck. Stork felt sick as he watched the dead man fall. Another Talon made a grab for him then and he leapt up onto the counter to get out of reach. Wing jumped up beside him momentarily and spun back around, her roundhouse kick connecting solidly with the jaw of one Cyclonian, sending him staggering back into another behind him.
"Run!" Wing shouted at him, pushing him off the circuit board. His feet slipped slightly beneath him as he hit the floor, waiting for her to drop down beside him, but she didn't. Suddenly an arm was thrown across his neck and he was once again trapped in the arms of a Cyclonian. He struggled and called out for Wing and then froze when he saw her.
Two Talons had her, one holding her off the ground by the arms on either side. The Dark Ace was back on his feet, looking livid. Wing was fighting furiously, kicking and thrashing, but then the Dark Ace grabbed her by the throat, his sword hovering barely an inch from her heart.
"You're a stubborn little brat, I'll give you that." he hissed. "But that won't save you anymore then it saved your squadron. Say hello to your father for me."
"No!" Stork cried.
It all happened in less than five seconds. But it seemed to take a life time.
The Dark Ace moved his arm back, ready to deliver the killing blow. And that's when Falshade, the shadow come to life, let out a deafening roar of denial and lunged from the darkness.
The Dark Ace's blade changed direction at the last second, suddenly veering away from Wing's chest and in an upward slash instead. There was no way he should have been able to hit the enraged panthera. It was a one in a million shot, a shot in the dark. But Stork never did like those odds.
The Dark Ace's crackling red blade sliced through the air, ducking under Falshade's powerful, gaping jaw and tore into the beautiful creature's throat. And then he stepped to the side, out harms way.
Falshade crashed to the ground and slid to a stop, writhering, in a crumpled heap. Dark blood was flowing over the floor at an alarming rate. Time seemed to stand still. No one moved. No one made a sound.
And then everything came rushing back, all too real.
Wing's scream ripped through the silence:
"FALSHADE!!!"
