New content! As a result of my New Year's Eve rewriting session, I broke up the previous chapter into two so I could flesh everything out. Sorry if it's a little short.
Chapter 11: What the Storm Brings:
Hyperion
Luna
December 18th, 2840
Time to get to work, Shiro told himself as he made his way to the closet. Grabbing two duffle bags, he pulled every piece of clothing he'd purchased since his arrival in this era off its hangar, folded it, and piled it in one of the duffle bags. Once the first bag was full and his clothes were gone, he opened the secret compartment where he'd hidden his Paladin armor and carefully arranged all the pieces so that they would fit inside the second bag. After his armor was packed, he grabbed a high-tech lock he'd acquired on the black market and used it to seal the second bag, so nobody would be able to access his armor but him. Don't want someone to go poking through my stuff and find something that'll blow my cover, he thought to himself.
Once he finished packing, there was nothing he could do but wait. He turned off the jamField and put his comm unit in his ear. Once he was ready to go, he switched on the HC and listened to the news feeds while he paced in the hopes of gleaning new information. There was nothing now about official deaths or anything relating to the flighting at the gala itself. Just the official information about security in the Citadel that he knew had been coordinated and put together by Mustang. All ships had been grounded. A no-fly zone had been initiated in orbit. All family-owned capital ships had had their warrants revoked and were being pushed back beyond the Rubicon beacons until the Sovereign gave further notice.
His datapad buzzed with an incoming message. He looked down at his left forearm to find a private text from Mustang
"Cassius lives," the message read. "He's with the Yellows. Citadel Carvers are already preparing to replace his arm."
Shiro felt relieved. Glad he made it out of this in one piece at least, he thought to himself, half-sarcastic, half-sincere. But the no-fly zone means House Augustus is going to be stranded on Luna with no ship… He trailed off as he deduced what Mustang was planning. Unless we steal one for them and rescue them ourselves, he finished. There are times where I forget just how smart she is, he added to himself. She's like Slav only without the crippling OCD. Once the situation began to take shape, he went into the bathroom and took a quick shower so that he could clean off all the blood. Once his body had been cleaned off, he threw his ruined uniform in the trash and pulled a clean set of clothes from the duffle bag. After he was clothed once more, he sat on the edge of the holochair to see what else was on the HC besides the news.
He flipped through entertainment channels so that security cameras would see a bored Aureate keeping himself entertained until he was permitted to leave his quarters. Because of the Summit, Gold sports like bloodChess and gravCross were in the off-season, but fauxWar and ripRacing competed year-round. As a former gladiator of Zarkon's arena, he couldn't stomach fauxWar, so he set the channel to ripRacing and went back to pacing. The race went to a commercial break when his datapad vibrated with another message from Mustang.
"On my way. Tell Sevro to remember to bring the bag. He'll know what it means. Don't leave your suite until I get there."
Shiro complied and forwarded her instructions to Sevro before he turned off the HC. It was almost time to go, so he reactivated the jamField and pulled the ghostCloak out of his bag before slipping it over his head, the hood pulled back as he waited. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and he opened it to find Mustang cleaned up as well, wearing the gold and white lancer's uniform of House Lune with her hair in a braid behind her. Like him, she also wore a ghostCloak for tonight. The better for them to reach their destination unseen.
"Everything set?" he asked her as he stepped out into the hallways. "Am I clear to leave?"
"Close enough that nobody will pay you any mind in the halls," she replied, gesturing for him to follow as she started walking down the corridor, her image pixelating into nothing as she activated her ghostCloak. "Now, come on. We're running late." Shiro turned on his ghostCloak and followed. had learned every inch of the Citadel over the last two months as he and Mustang prepared for this night, so he wasn't surprised to realize that they were headed to the Citadel's main hangars. Hopefully there's a fast ship there, he thought to himself as they walked invisibly through the main building. But we'll take whatever we can get.
After living there for two months, Shiro knew that the Citadel, like New York City, was a place that never slept, so the silence in the corridors was more unnerving than the lack of guards. Probably makes sense that the staff would be hiding from all the family feuds to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, though, he surmised as he noticed heavy objects barricaded in front of the doors to the servants' quarters as they passed through the lowColor levels. After all, he added, thinking of the Jackal, Antonia, Tactus' brothers, and other excessively ruthless Golds he'd been warned to avoid, some of the more sadistic Golds would probably use the chaos as an excuse to mutilate others for kicks.
Thankfully, with most of the Citadel's security staff out attempting to restore order on the grounds, they made their way through the building completely unopposed. Shiro wouldn't put it past the likes of Tactus' older brothers to use rocket launchers or other explosives in the bloodshed tonight, so he and Mustang both instinctively avoided the lifts. When they arrived in the hangar, most of the ripWings were out patrolling the skies and enforcing the no-fly zone, but unfortunately the only ships available on the entire level were Storks. The large troop transports were built to deploy soldiers in starShells to drop points, but they were slower than molasses travelling uphill. Not like we have any choice in the matter, though, Shiro thought to himself as he and Mustang strode towards an empty stork at the edge of the hangar.
As they walked, it occured to him that he was finally leaving Luna for the first time. And despite his distaste for the Game of Thrones-esque politics of Lune's court, he found himself feeling a little sad. It had been almost two years since he was last on Earth, and after his escape, the Castle of Lions had become a second home for him. He hadn't exactly felt the same way about Luna, but he'd gotten used to it since he'd been stranded in this era. It had become familiar and stable, something he hadn't had since he'd been taken by the Galra. Leaving that stability behind, facing an uncertain future stravelling the solar system... he didn't want to admit it to himself, but the thought scared him.
But there wasn't time for him to dwell on his nostalgia and fear. Not until they'd made their escape. Waiting next to the ship where the Yellow who had kept him alive, the Pink who had trained him in Aureate culture, and the Violet who'd implanted his Sigils and ID chip. Shiro felt a brief flash of fear at the reminder that Mustang wasn't the only one who knew his secret. But that fear was quickly buried by relief that she'd had the foresight to bring everyone with them, not wanting to risk the truth leaking out if any of them were left behind. Mustang nodded in acknowledgement and thanked the three lowColors for coming with them before pressing a button on her datapad and notifying the Blue she'd hired that they had arrived.
While Mustang headed forward up to the cockpit to tell the Blue to initiate liftoff, Shiro quickly closed the door behind them. Shiro led the Yellow, Pink, and Violet up to the passenger cabin, where all but Shiro strapped themselves in for the inevitably bumpy ride. The ship rumbled as it took off into the night sky, and Mustang returned a few minutes later and lead him back to the cargo hold. While she trusted the three lowColors with Shiro's secret, she wasn't going to discuss their battle plans while they were in earshot. Better to give the trio plausible deniability if the plan failed and the Whites interrogated the survivors.
"How are we going to keep the Scepter Armada from shooting us out of the sky?" Shiro asked. He wouldn't have been as worried if he'd been piloting the Black Lion. It could take a beating. But Storks were small. Only a little bit larger than the shuttle they'd flown on the trip to Kerberos. A single missile or rain-gun round was enough to destroy it completely. And if it ruptured while they were in space, well, Shiro wouldn't be able to reach his armor in time for it to pressurize. They were sitting ducks until they reached the safety of the Augustus fleet.
"Because she would never let anything happen to Lysander," she answered grimly. Shiro recoiled in shock at what she had just implied.
"I'm starting to think you're as crazy as Darrow is," he quipped, only half joking as the magnitude of what he was participating in tonight hit him like a freight train. "Things were bad enough with the massacre between the Bellona and your family," he continued. "But kidnapping the Sovereign's grandson? An eight-year-old child? Are we really going to stoop so low?" Mustang sighed. He knew that she didn't like this anymore than he did.
"It's the only way out of the no-fly zone in one piece and you know it," she retorted. "I don't like it any more than you do but it's the only thing that will actually make Octavia call off the ripWings. And if you're worried about the boy being hurt by my father, don't. Darrow wouldn't be willing to hurt him even if my father told him to, and Sevro follows his lead. My father is only cruel when it's practical, and Kavax will treat Lysander as if he were his own son. In any case, it's too late to change the plan now. I've already handed Lysander over to Sevro and came down to get you. Now, we need to get this ship in the air and make sure they have a gorydamn escape route when they leave the villa." As she said this, the shuddering of the ship's engine switched to a low hum as the pilot finished pre-flight checks and they finally took off, the Stork sluggishly gliding out of the hangar bay.
"Ten minutes to the rendezvous, point, Dominii," the Blue announced over the intercom. Shiro looked to Mustang and nodded. It was time for them to get ready for the final stages of her plan.
BloodChess and GravCross were namedropped by Julian in the first book, and Pierce talked about what other Colors did for entertainment in a reddit AMA a while back, where he mentioned the Obsidian gladiator matches of FauxWar or the Blues' RipRacing, which is basically the Red Rising equivalent of Nascar or Formula 1 races.