Kiza slinks behind Stinger down the darkened corridor, their weapons raised. Their eyes dart around each intersection, alert for the smallest sign of movement. His wings are tucked, but flicker now and then, ready to ascend at any moment. Stinger steps carefully over the fallen form of a sim, then another, but there is no other sign of the Empress Morkenin. As they pass the bodies, each reaches down with quick fingers to check for any extra weapons. Ahead, blue flashes illuminate the twisted walls where the ship's hull was blasted open, each flare reflecting off Kiza's fresh armor. Somewhere far ahead, they hear a bellow that could mark Aknet's battle cry, or signal her demise, they could not know.
Just as Stinger reaches the jagged opening, blasts spray from behind. The pair duck, and with a flew flicks at their wrists, snap twin shields in place. Within the confines of the corridor, Stinger tucks his wings tight, and he and Kiza share a martial dance, hones from their years of training. With his free hand, Stinger grasps Kiza's wrist, flicking her into the air. As she rises above his shield, she angles her own sidelong to protect her body and Stinger's head, and as she rises above his head, Stinger releases his grip and as one they fire simultaneous shots into the dark. The sparks brighten the corridor as Kiza arcs just above Stinger, and in those split seconds they lock their sites upon their quarry. Kiza lands lightly, their shields aligned to form a broad protective array, and each reaches the opposite side, firing a rapid round. When blasts spark at their feet, Kiza drops, swinging her shield sidelong again, while Stinger leaps over, crouched behind his shield, Kiza repeating punishing shots from below while Stinger fires from higher above in a widening spray.
Together they have nearly cleared the dark hall, when the ground beneath their feet begins to vibrate. They glance at each other, mouthing 'crap!', as one massive, horn skinned sargon stumbles backwards towards them in the corridor, followed by another, then a third. Aknet, bleeding from multiple bites and more than one long singe from energy bolts, hampered by the close quarters, stumbles into Kiza, one twisted limb knocking Kiza away from Stinger's protective shield. Kiza tries to cover her with her own shield, but she is pushed off to one side, unable to view beyond Aknet's wings. She makes a second attempt to move past Aknet, just as the ceiling collapses in a spray of glassy, metallic shards and sparking wires. Forced back, with only the glow of her shield to pierce the black, Kiza cranes her head up and around, searching for a way to regroup, when she hears another voice calling from the opposite end of the corridor.
"This way, apini child." Morkenin's voice echos slightly through the dark, and Kiza hesitates, glancing over her shoulder at the wreckage of wire and metal, before racing toward the sound. Suddenly she finds herself at a rip in the yacht's hull, with a view of the expanse of landing bay arching high above, all around buzzing with silver skinned royal guards arrayed against sargons and other splices whizzing about on skimmers. Out numbered, the mechanical defenders are rapidly being overwhelmed. One of the grav fins lays battered and detached from the main yacht, and Morkenin's force has taken a beating, the ring of sims reduced to a mere handful, and Kiza joins her within the protective circle. A single large blast sends them head over heels, slamming them against the gleaming bay floor. Kiza finding her face planted firmly against the deck, lifts herself slowly, taking in the damage with swift glances. All the sims are twisted piles of scorched arms, legs, and torsos. Morkenin herself is equally plastered against the floor. With a regal groan, she touches the little nob aside her neck, and vanishes. Kiza gasps in surprise, and dismay, and then her face twists with fury, if not surprise, to be so readily abandoned.
"Figures," she mutters, rolling to her feet beside the cover of the yacht's belly. She drops low again with a new volley of shots sizzling all around her. Suddenly, a sizzle of light and a flash of silver sends two of the attackers flying, and a cold, haughty voice is at her ear.
"We need higher ground. Shield yourself. I'll provide cover fire." Tapping the controls in her palm, Kiza engages her gravity boots, trying not to wonder, only focus on angling her shield while she and the invisible royal rise up the side of the yacht. At first she wonders why no one seems to be firing at her despite her glaringly shiny armor, then realizes she, too, has somehow become less visible. As she scales the tilting top of the yacht, Morkenin withdraws the expanse of her gray cloth, and touches her neck once again.
"That's new, your Majesty," Kiza notes with some envy at the vaguely glittery, but otherwise nondescript camouflaging cloak.
"This old thing? Hardly. I just didn't take your little band seriously enough the first time round. My mistake." She flashes Kiza a smile more chilling than reassuring. "Enjoy your small sense of superiority," she notes Kiza's wry grin, "I don't repeat them."
Kiza swallows any retort she might have made, instead, focusing on the fight below. She notes the numerous smaller craft which dot the massive cavern that is of the Empress' royal clipper docking bay. From behind one such rebel craft, a trio of lycantants pulse forth, each on a hovering skimmer, racing towards the beached yacht, and at it's base, two figures, one thick, gray green and winged, the other slight and clothed in black-on-black, embroiled with a pair of massive sargorns just beyond the shadow of the one of the yacht's other extended wings.
"Father!" Kiza breathes, almost leaping forward, but knowing she must think quickly rather than merely jump into the fray. Open, desperate hunger overtakes her face as she watches Stinger's wings snap open while he glides to the floor of the bay.
"You desire to follow your father? Relcaim the family honor?" Kiza's face falls instantly, glancing at her own hands, knowing how she had recently once more misused her apini swiftness.
"I traded my own integrity for your legacy." Outwardly, Morkenin merely shrugs at Kiza's cryptic reply. But something thoughtful remains on her features as she regards Kiza' rapt attention upon her father's descent. Even as Kiza speaks the words, another figure alights on the ripped and rippled floor behind Stinger and Aknet, wearing nothing but a silver and gray set of long boxers, his own skin, and a freshly scrubbed set of gleaming, bronze wings. "Caine!" Kiza exclaims, a wide, amazed smile spreading across her lips.
"So," Morkenin muses beside her. "The recurrence was correct. How," and she envisions the possible future ramifications before shaking her head back into their present dilemma, "intriguing." And she begins firing towards the small ships hovering close enough to prove their retreat not such a safe haven. Kiza aims downward, but finds her shots thwarted by the proximity of Stinger. He darts and lays rapid fire punches along the sargon's tough hide, and dances just beyond its reach, bolts of energy ripping through the membranous wings. With a bit of luck, he gets one well aimed shot into the beady eye of one sargon, but cannot bring the second massive warrior down.
Ducking a huge, powerful swing, pausing briefly to catch a breath, Stinger turns as a shadow falls over his shoulder. He raises his weapon with apini swiftness, just in time to see Caine gliding down beside him. before springing right back up, tucking his wings, vaulting through the air, to land hands first on the nearest sargon's shoulders. Surprised, the sargon's head snaps up, it hesitates, flicking its wings with indecision, just long enough for Caine to slide a sharp energy blade across its thick neck. Caine's move continues as the blood begins to erupt from the severed neck, and he lands just before the sargon gorgon falls, one knee and opposite hand to support him, his head up and seeking his next target. Momentarily unassailed, he sprints back to crouch next to Stinger, who claps him on the arm with unbridled glee. Then, says drolly, "Nice pants." Caine offers him a rueful, sidelong smile, glances back to assess Aknet's status, then settling in to position facing the fray.
"Aknet is compromised. What's your status?"
"I'm uninjured. But I lost Kiza when the roof collapsed."
"Kiza?" Caine repeats, half accusingly. "She'll be fine. I taught her well."
"You?" Stinger falls for the jibe, but with an unsteady grin he relaxes at Caine's jest. "What's our next move?"
"That trio of lycantants looks to be the most imminent threat." Stinger nods his agreement. Caine turns briefly to Aknet.
"Bait?" he asks. With a massive heave of her bleeding body, she nods once, and begins firing into the bay at whatever seems handy. Using the shadows, Caine and Stinger duck down to slink alongside the silent ship's wing.
The three lycantants wend their way through the blasts, aiming towards Aknet's staggering form. Caine tosses a nod toward them, and Stinger grins. As the lycantants draw near, both men spring into the air, twin pairs of wings snapping open, shields snapping up and held before them, Stinger landing a shot on the center most lycantant, the loosed skimmer careening forward into one knot of varied splices. Together, they both dive and fly towards one attacker each, knocking them clear of their skimmers. Caine snags the handle bars and swings himself around, alighting into the seat. Using their wings for extra balance, the two men easily maneuver through the small ships dotting the bay. Stinger rapid fires the gravity connections of three of the small rebel craft, sending them veering toward each other. Stinger pulls his skimmer sharply just as the ships collide, sending spark and then exploding flame and shrapnel in all directions. He fights with the skimmer as the shock wave hits, sending him skidding sideways, but he manages to recover, craning his head to regroup with Caine.
One whirling piece of something, maybe a ship, maybe a body part, knocks Caine from his skimmer right into a ring of rebel fighters. He lands on his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear his vision, then gazes around at the various heavies and snake headed and whisker faced splices. With a collective yell, they leap at him. Caine drops, sweeping his leg, knocking three of them to their backs. Two grab his arms, but he uses their own momentum to knock them into each other, and as they stagger back, he wraps an arm around one's neck and flings him over his hip, kicking another splice across her whiskered face, splitting her lip and blood begins running from a broken nose. One of the fallen splice springs back up, raising a weapon to point at Caine. He snaps his shield up, and with a slight tilt, sends the blast ricocheting into one of the other splice, who drops with an expression of surprise. Still blocking the blasts, Caine uses a swing of his shield to knock the weapon from the attacker, while he drops low to retrieve a random fallen gun, then raises it to return fire at the edge of his shield. From behind, the broken nose splice springs forward, just as Caine drops the armed attacker, freeing him to gather the new threat's momentum, swing her over and down to land hard on the ground, where he lands a sharp chop on her neck. She lays choking while Caine surveys his situation. Five more splice have gathered at his location, closing in. He frowns, with a small shake of his head. Two of the snarling faces come close just as a skimmer hums above his head. Caine glances up, preparing to leap and dislodge the driver only to see Stinger's outstretched hand. Caine reaches up, grasps the hand, drops his shield, and lays down cover fire as he is pulled up and away.
One, two, then three, then a dozen rebels drop while Caine is borne higher and higher. He spares a puzzled glance around, knowing he didn't hit that many despite his own skill. From somewhere atop the broken yacht, twin flares of blaster fire still pummel into the rebels, and they begin to scatter.
"Cockroaches," Caine mutters as Stinger swings him up behind on the skimmer, referring to both their habit, and likely a few of the actual splices, as another set of skimmer born attackers appear.
"Aknet is down," Kiza says, angling her shield upward against a renewed barrage from a pair of skimmers bearing a very dark skinned man, and a fierce looking, sharp eyed woman.
"The sargorn?" Morkenin does not glance away from her repeated firing into the fray below. "That's all they are good for. Vile, ungainly things, not worth purchasing."
"Jupiter didn't purchase her. She earned her trust, just like you earned her respect, somehow. But I guess that isn't anything you value. Your Majesty," she amends with a sullen tone. Morkenin might have become enraged, or thought to order Kiza's death for the slight she had given, but instead, her face softens, if just for a moment.
"This perch is no longer secure," she says instead. Kiza clicks her grav boots into action, and begins to skate along the side of the ship. "Time to regroup, then," Morkenin mutters, finding herself left behind. "I suppose it's time many things must change. Oh. Wonderful." She pauses at the dark cloud of forms pushing through the energy shield. "More company."