The explosion never comes. Instead, the space fills with the many echoing thuds of metal bodies hitting the ground.
Nova opens her eyes, the cool tones of moonlight filling the otherwise lifeless room. "I'm alive? But..." It's dead silent, the type of which the markazian has never known before now. "Clank, are you-"
Optics that once were filled with a brilliant emerald green are now completely empty.
The sight makes her stomach turn with a deep seated dread, and she goes pale. "No, no, you have to get up! Clank, please, wake up!" Despite her shaking to do so, the robot remains unresponsive. She gently cradles him, placing her head on his chest to hear if any part of him is active. There's nothing but silence. "Clank..."
Soft, hushed murmurs emanate from the few organics in the room, huddled together as far away from the scene as possible.
There's the sound of something tapping the ground behind her, but it's not as dense as metal. "He's not getting up, Nova." Saros coolly walks towards her, in the same suit as Destructapalooza. "In fact, nothing inorganic in this room is."
The woman slowly turns, facing the other markazian head on and speaking lowly. "You."
Clank's body is gently put down. With clenched fists, she steps towards her former friend. "If he's gone, you'd better pray that you can run faster than I can fly."
"Clank's fine, Starlight; it's just an EMP. Everything that ticks is completely blacked out."
Her gritted teeth reflect the room's minimal light. "Don't you dare call me that. I thought I got through to you back in the medbay. If you're still with Nefarious, I must not have shocked you hard enough."
"You, on the other hand, were shocked so hard that you think you're some sort of hotshot," he quips.
"That's enough out of you!" Nova stretches her hand outwards, but nothing happens. Her eyes widen in realization.
Saros smirks, picking up on the expression. "Like I said, everything that ticks. You're weaponless."
Narrowing her gaze at her opponent, she lowers her arm and rolls her shoulders. "You're right, but you've forgotten something. I can't summon weapons..." Nova's hand shakes as she curls her fingers into an even tighter fist. "But I can still do this!" There's an audible crack as the man is struck, and he reels back covering his nose.
The woman's fury is relentless, every punch just precise enough to keep him on his toes. Moonlight reflects off of the metal bodies in the room, angled just right to give the room an eerie bluish glow. "You egotistical, desperate, self-serving, son of a-"
Saros interrupts that thought by grabbing Nova's dress and yanking her to the side. His opponent trips over Qwark's unconscious body with a surprised yelp.
With a huff, Nova pushes a loose chunk of hair back behind her ear. "Grabbing a lady's skirt like that, huh? I knew you were dense, but I didn't take you for a pervert too," she scowls.
"I call it 'using your surroundings to your advantage'. Don't take it personally, babe."
"Sweet Zoni," she groans in disgust, "That's so much worse. Can we go back to 'Starlight'? I kinda liked that better, actually."
"Maybe I prefer to see you flustered." A nearby empty glass is launched towards Saros' face, shattering on impact. One of the shards slices into his forehead, allowing a bit of blood to drip down into his eyebrow and frame the side of his face.
Nova presses forward to attack, then suddenly stops after noticing who she's standing next to. "Wait, wait, hang on! Time out for a second."
The young man freezes, not expecting the request. "Wait, what?"
Glaring at the fembot towards her feet, Nova lifts her dress slightly, swings back a heel, and kicks the unconscious singer with all her strength. The sound echoes across the halls, fading to silence.
"There we go," she says with a satisfied huff. "I've wanted to do that for the past fifteen minutes."
Raising an eyebrow, Saros stares up and down at his opponent. "You, uh, good now, I guess?"
"Yup, I'm good," she grins. "Thanks, that felt pretty great."
"In that case-" Saros throws down a smoke bomb, not giving Nova a chance to resume her attack. The thick fog blends with the moonlight, and the woman coughs at the new substance in the air.
"Just like your boss," she wheezes. "A coward." Something sweeps at the back of her knees, making her land flat on her rear. Just as quickly, she gets up and directs her attention to the disturbance in the fog.
"Oh, not a coward," the fog taunts. "Just too smart for a hot-headed wannabe hero like you. I went to college, did you?" Something grabs her, throwing her across a nearby table and slamming her into the food display. All of the contents are scattered, and any fragile dinnerware is reduced to shards.
With a groan, Nova presses a hand against her head. As the room realigns, Nova scoffs. "Hope your college-boy bank account is gonna pay for me a new dress. I liked this one, you walnut." Grabbing at the cloth below her, she wraps the skirt around her legs to create the closest thing to pants she can manage.
The swirling smoke, she then realizes, isn't unfamiliar. The young woman's mind rewinds to a time that feels so long ago.
…
The early morning fog drifts in front of Nova's eyes, and the fongoid ahead of her leads a group of young teens. He speaks in a near whisper, addressing the students. "You must lie low and move carefully, meep. Otherwise you'll scare your hunt."
One of the kids beside Nova whispers, making sure to heed his instructions. "We can't see anything! How do you hunt what you can't see?" The lone markazian listens closely, her comrade having asked the question that was on everyone else's minds.
"You must use the gifts Orvus gave you. All of them, nyeeh. The eyes are important, but they are not your only tool. Close your eyes, and tell me what you see."
…
Nova follows those teachings, taking in a calming breath through her nose and out of her mouth. Behind her and to the right, there's the distant murmurs of the few breathing patrons. There's her own breathing, subtle as can be.
What sticks out the most is the slight tap of a boot against polished granite floors, which seems to circle her condescendingly. "I didn't learn from a classroom, Saros. I know more than what Clank's shown me." Opening her eyes, Nova glances down at the table to see a short butterknife glimmering in the moonlight.
She blinks, and once again adrenaline takes hold. Her pulse seems louder in her ears, but not from pain. This again. I can use this! Staring into the point where the footsteps were loudest, she can hear the tap once more, slower than usual. There's a slight disturbance as the smoke moves around the figure cutting through it.
Found you.
Using Qwark's back as a springboard, Nova launches herself forward and tackles Saros to the ground. The fog begins to dissolve, showing the man below her a confident smirk, a pair of green eyes that begin to fade back to blue, and a knife at his throat. "The fongoids were my first teachers."
The defeated markazian chuckles, sufficiently entertained by the predicament he finds himself in. "You sure are full of surprises, aren't you? But I think we both know you won't use that knife on me."
Nova locks eyes with him, and all she sees is that hopeful look from back in Star Bits. That day, when he offered his number. The way he looked so crushed when she screamed at him, driving him away when Nefarious returned. A part of her knows he's right. That person has friends, and a family. That person who showed her that movie, who once texted daily to make sure she was okay, he doesn't deserve to die for his mistakes.
Or her own.
She sighs, backing away from Saros, but still keeping the butter knife pointed towards him. "Get out, Saros, before I beat you again. Whatever Nefarious wants, you won't find it here."
The young man brushes the dust and food crumbs from his clothing. "I've already found what I needed, I just forgot to pick it up when we last met."
Snatching the knife from her hands, Saros swipes at her cheek just deep enough to draw blood. As Nova swings in retaliation, he dodges at the last second. His wrist digs into a jacket pocket, pulling out a plastic bag and some thin stick with a cap on one end.
She squints at the sight of him putting the blade into a bag, and pouts at this new gadget. "Another trick, huh? You're that desperate for round 2? I'm beginning to think you get some weird thrill out of this."
"Sorry to disappoint, but this is more insurance that you don't follow me." The cap is twisted, and the stick in his hands begins to spit out a glowing, sickly green smoke.
Nova stares at him, poised to move or fight, but unsure what he's planning.
…
A Goons-4-Less dropship hangs idly in the skies above the building, cloaked by Nefarious' technology and the darkness between the stars. One of the goons impatiently bounces in his seat. "Come on, bro," he whines. "We sent down that dumb pod thing, when do we wreck the place?"
"You gotta wait for the signal, bro, Boss's orders. And quit rockin' the ship! Knock us too close to that EMP and we're all goin' down!"
"Oh, fine. You're no fun, man." Dipping his head over the edge, the goon stares into the space below. "At least we're on the clock while we're waitin'. Ooh, that's it!" With an excited grin, his hammer is pointed downward.
His calmer comrade joins him and looks below, squinting as a small green light emerges from the darkness. "Ladies first, bro." There's a short yelp as the goon punches his more enthusiastic friend off of the platform, and the other goons follow suit.
...
"What's your game, Saros? That thing gonna explode or something?"
"Look up."
Muffled laughter reaches Nova's ears, and the stars above her are blocked out in spots. The figures grow closer, revealing themselves to be attackers slowly falling with parachutes. They touch the ground, and Saros turns to leave. "Hey! I'm not done with you yet!"
He turns back to Nova, but instead of some smart remark, he simply looks at her with sadness in his eyes.
The Goons-4-Less members block Saros from view as he leaves entirely, each of them snickering to themselves. One of them leans down closer to Nova's level, much like a stranger would do to a pet in a shop that caught their eye. "Aw, she's so tiny! It's like a sparkly little toothpick!"
The markazian glances around the room, comparing her lack of a weapon with the huge hammers, axes, and strange looking swords of her enemies.
She allows herself a hissed out curse.