[AN] Note, posted two chapters this go 'round. Make sure to read them in order (i.e., this is the second one posted, so read the other one first).

Kuvira disappears down the corridor, loudly excoriating the entirely unrepentant Bolin whom she's dragging along with her, his flight suit clenched in her iron grip.

"Let me get this straight," Foster says, his voice shaky even though it's clear he was trying for sarcastic. "Your pilot has an imaginary friend that helps him fly?"

I open my mouth, then close it, as I really do not know how to explain the actual situation. I settle for some bullshit, knowing he'll know it's bullshit, but he already hates me so it hardly matters. It's not like I trust him enough to tell him about a fully sentient AI that's apparently in love with a brain-damaged stowaway.

"He's quirky, what can I say?"

The sour expression on his face basically confirms my prediction, but I'm saved by Wing trotting over to us. His face looks grim.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" I ask him sourly.

Wing winces. "Well, let's just say it's a good thing we didn't try to bring the stasis pods, because the place we would have stashed them was on fire until a minute ago." He waves vaguely at the smoke residue still hanging in the air.

I'm proud that I don't even glance at Foster let alone tell him I told you so, but I'm already wincing at the implications to the fighters that are there instead. "What's the damage?"

"One of the fighters is definitely out of commission and another took damage but I think we can fix it if we can borrow the Doc." Asami nods immediately. "The last one is okay and we'll probably want to check the one Bolin took out, but before that," Wing turns to Foster. "You're a facilities specialist, yeah? Right now we've got some critical damage repair to do to Valkyrie O2 control system and we could use your help."

Foster glances quickly at his splinted arm then at Asami.

She sighs. "Try to not do any heavy wrenching, but the cast should keep it safe enough otherwise."

"Okay," he grunts before following Wing back to where Wei now stands in front of a spitefully sparking control board.

I press my fingers into my temples, feeling the pressure that tells me a headache is imminent. "I need to talk to Izumi."

Asami arches one eyebrow at me. "It's a good thing Valkyrie has my antenna array modifications for extended range, then."

I scowl at her smug expression. "Keep it up, Sato, and you'll be floating home."

Her laughter follows me backup the corridor.

—

Izumi's expression on the screen is incredulous. "He did what?"

I shrug. "You can muster a court martial when we get home, but he and Raava did figure out something pretty important I think we can leverage."

"You think you can execute on this before they reach the Terran system?" Izumi asks skeptically.

I don't blame her for feeling nervous — there's probably enough firepower heading her way to level about three planets.

"I don't have a better idea, to be perfectly frank," I reply. "And if we're going to do anything, we need to do it before he makes it to the Terran System. Otherwise you're relying on whatever you've got sorted for a planetary defense."

Izumi purses her lips. "As much as General Zhao would love a chance to demonstrate the efficacy of his long range defense system, I'd prefer we not let such a threat get that close." I see an aide-de-camp hurry in from offscreen and mumble urgently in her ear. She listens then nods, excusing him.

"We have just received a communique from Unalaq. Stand by, Valkyrie."

"Copy that." I lean back and catch Kuvira looking at me with a sour expression.

"We're going to let him go do that crazy shit again, aren't we?" She grumbles.

I shake my head. "Seems wrong, doesn't it? But I don't want that fleet getting anywhere close to home."

Asami shudders. "I agree."

Kuvira had looked as if she was about to argue but clamped her jaw shut at Asami's words; between what we had all seen on Daedalus Five and what they knew of what had happened to Asami's mother and countless other civilians killed during the Fire System War, the risk of aerial bombardment was a huge one.

Our comm system pinged. Izumi's face reappeared and she looked furious.

"Mr. Saihkan was apparently correct in his earlier assessment," she reports. "There's a strong financial component to this dumpster fire."

The screen flickers again and I see a face I had hoped to never see again. Cold eyes and a patrician nose is centered within a haughty expression, all in a visage that's familiar enough to make me acutely uncomfortable. My father's brother, back to haunt us with his extreme sense of entitlement and utter lack or morals.

What's on the screen is obviously a canned recording based on the time stamp on the lower right corner, and he doesn't waste time getting to the point. "The United Republic of Planets took away twenty years of my life. I'm pleased to say the circumstances are now in my favor. You will provide what I deem to be appropriate compensation or I will reduce the Terran home world to its component elements." His sneer is triumphant. "You have forty-eight hours to respond."

Izumi's face reappears and her expression is no less angry. "How much time do you need to execute your plan?"

Kuvira leans forward. "We have thirty six hours until they hit the outer limits of the Terran Home System. If took about eleven hours for the last mission to complete, but the circumstances for this scenario is different. We probably need to launch more or less immediately to have time to engage and respond."

Opal speaks up from where's she leaning against the nav console. "Is there any indication he knows we've caused two of his mines to blow each other up?"

Izumi's expression turns thoughtful. "Nothing that we've ascertained, but anything is possible." She cocks her head. "Would it change the approach?"

Kuvira shakes her head. "Probably not. What could he change?"

A growing sense of unease builds in my gut. "He could choose to launch earlier. He'd be anticipating that fewer bombardment devices would probably make it through any defenses but it would only take one hit to do pretty significant damage if it got the right target. And once he's launched only he has the ability to abort as far as I know."

Everybody's face falls at this idea.

I see Wei, Wing, and Foster coming up the gangway, and their expressions do not fill me with confidence. I see Wing glance at Izumi and hesitate.

"Report, Sergeant," I call out.

He grimaces. "We have the oxygen system patched up, but Foster's pretty convinced that if we take another hit like the last shockwave we maybe in serious trouble."

Foster clears his throat. "I normally do planet side installations, but based on everything I know on tolerances, the tanks are at about sixty percent of official tolerances for the material. If they drop to below forty percent, they could not only rupture but explode. Normally regs say we'd have to drydock the ship given the readings I got."

Our gazes meet and he gives me a curt nod, albeit one far less angry than in recent days.

"Well, that's not likely in the next couple of days," Jinora comments dryly. "And I do like breathing."

Izumi clears her throat. "Obviously, any plans need to emphasize the safety of the mission crew. Do you think launching additional support would help or hinder at this point?"

"Hinder," both Kuvira and I respond instantly. At a nod from her I continue. "The fact that we've been able to keep a low profile and just out of his sensor range means he hasn't felt the need to escalate. If he sees ships coming at him I would expect him to react with a weapons launch, to show he means business if nothing else."

Izumi nods, soberly. "I suspect you're right. In that case, our strategy will be to launch the fleet into a orbital blockade; that shouldn't be anything surprising. Then we start firing the planetary defense system the second he's in range." She suddenly looks very tired. "If your plan fails, our only hope is to hold the line against whatever comes at us."

Kuvira growls as she considers. "You're talking a fleet-wide suicide mission."

"If that's what it takes," Izumi says gravely. "We will not falter in the face of our enemy"

"Nor fail in our defense," Asami murmurs in response. Her face is pale and drawn, and she's looking right at me. I can already tell from the tightness around her eyes that there's an epic fight coming.

"Exactly, Doctor Sato," Izumi agrees. "Izumi out."

The screen reverts to the star field ahead of us. It's so deceptively peaceful.

"Fuck," I mutter, then rub my face with one hand. "Somebody go find Bolin and have him meet me in the hangar."