Summary: Viktor senses something is off. Grayson touches base with Bone. The Children attempt their heist!
Content Warning: Canon typical violence. PTSD.
When Katya picked Viktor up on Friday, she barely acknowledged Ivy. Partly due to her anger, partly due to shame about her behavior the day before. She took the rucksack from the aide, her eyes downcast, hands reaching out to grab protectively at her brother's shoulders once it was secure across her back.
Ivy watched the other woman sadly, wanting to say something, but not knowing what that would be; nor knowing if it would be wise to say anything in front of the boy.
"Have a good weekend, Viktor," she said instead, a reassuring smile on her cherry-red lips.
"You, too, Miss – "
"Let's go, Viktor," Katya interjected, guiding him away.
Viktor's brows furrowed as he began to awkwardly fall into step with her guided gait. He looked back at Ivy one last time before turning his attention toward the walk home.
He could sense something was wrong. It didn't take an especially astute mind to see that Katya was in a foul mood. What was trickier for him was determining why. People had too many variables for his liking – it completely negated the scientific method. The backbone of chemical, biological, and physical theories and laws were their relatively controlled environments. If A, then B. If A, and C is present, then D; and so on.
People did not, as far as he could tell, live by such rules. Their feelings and actions could not be counted on to be consistent. And he found it vexing. And intimidating.
Viktor stuck close to Katya's side as they made their way to the Bridge, his chin tucked in and eyes occasionally peering up at her, hoping he could glean any information from her stony profile.
"What is wrong?" he finally asked as they stepped into the Promenade.
Katya winced and chewed her lip. The pause scared him.
"Nothing," she finally said, ushering him toward the Conveyor Car station. "I've just had a bad week."
"Oh," he murmured. He knew Katya didn't lie to him, but he felt unconvinced.
"Come. Let's get home."
The weekend went by quickly, as it often did. But instead of feeling comforted and refreshed by time away from Piltover, he felt on edge and smothered. Whatever had happened during the week to his sister, clouded their home. It kept her irritable and clingy at the same time. She sat too close, touched him too much, didn't really speak with him, and didn't really listen. Despite her near-suffocating proximity, she seemed very far away, and he didn't know how to call her back.
On Monday, when she dropped him off with Ivy, her fingers clawed at him when they hugged. Desperate and lonely.
"I'm sorry," Ivy kindly said, "but we need to get going."
Viktor made to pull away, ready to start his week. But Katya held on for a beat more. She touched him for as long as possible, letting her fingertips trail down his shoulders and arms as he stepped over to the aide.
"I love you, Viktor. I'll see you Friday."
Her voice was hollow and heavy. He didn't understand. And he didn't like it.
"I love you, too," he replied. He attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Grayson knocked on Councilor Bone's office door and waited. Usually, Councilors had receptionists. Bone did not. Something the Captain took note now only because she wondered if this was another microaggression against an Undercity citizen.
"Come in."
She stepped inside, removing her cap as she did. "Councilor, sir."
"Ah, Captain Grayson," Bone sighed, peering over his spectacles at her. "Please, come in. Have a seat."
He gestured to the simple chair in front of his desk as he pocketed his glasses, and put the paper he was reading down. Grayson did as instructed, removing the folders from under her arm as she sat.
"I have looked through what you gave me," she said heavily, placing a palm on the documents. His nod was equally somber, and he waited for her to continue. After a long moment, she added, "I see what you are saying."
Bone nodded again, closing his eyes. He made to swallow and his throat hitched. He clasped a hand around his mouth as his lungs tried to push an angry retch up his trachea. His other hand fished out the handkerchief he kept in his breast pocket. He covered his mouth, and swiveled away from Grayson. After a few more bone-rattling hacks, a warm, slimy wad crawled its way up Bone's throat and mouth, and landed in the cloth. Very carefully, not wanting to disturb his guest, nor let on the severity of his condition, he coolly removed the handkerchief. Carefully pinching it to contain the bloody lump, he stowed it in his pocket and turned back to the captain.
"Apologies," he rasped.
Grayson's eyebrows creased in concern. She'd heard that the last Assembly had been cut short because of an acute health issue of Bone's; now she wondered just how acute it was.
"I can come back another time, Councilor," she offered. "Perhaps you ought to go home and rest."
"No, no," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Rest will not help. I do not want to rest."
That statement made the lines on Grayson's face deepen. What he had said did not have the calming effect she suspected he wanted. However, she was not in a position to argue with a Councilor. No matter where he hailed from. Not if the work he wanted to do with her was on a time crunch.
"Thank you for taking the time to look over those files," Bone said, genuine gratitude shining in his pale eyes. "Unfortunately, those are only a fraction of the cases – "
"I know."
" – and Enforcer brutality is ongoing."
Grayson closed her eyes. "I know."
She had never partaken, and she had never taken it as seriously as perhaps she should have, but she was well-aware of trainees and rookie Enforcers going into the Undercity and finding citizens to fight. In the name of tradition. For meaningless clout. She had recently reamed a trio for that very activity. Not only was it unprofessional and shameful, but they had had their asses handed to them by whoever they had tried to intimidate.
"I would like us to put the data together in a thorough and concise presentation format," Bone said, "and present it at an Assembly."
"Us?" Grayson gasped. "Shouldn't we get LeDaird on board, too?"
"We will. Eventually." He fixed her with a sly grin. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission, yes?"
"I suppose," she conceded, settling back into her seat.
She knew from experience (her own and her peers') that sometimes bending or skirting protocol was the best way to get things done, to solve cases. Even LeDaird knew that. "Hopefully after that attempted robbery at the docks a couple weeks ago, things will be relatively quiet so we can work on this."
The first step in stealing the money, Katya found out, was sneaking across the Pilt. The airship port was on Piltover's side of the river; built into the cliff faces on the outskirts of the city. The captain Beckett worked for was also a part of the Children, and was allowing him to use a small dinghy to ferry himself, Silco, Katya, and Annie to the opposite shore.
The night of the job, Katya met Silco at The Last Drop's backdoor. Vander and Enyd stood behind him; the barkeep looking hopeful, but stoic. Enyd was pale, her hands continually fretting with the dark clothes her son wore. Katya was wearing dark ones, too; something that he had suggested when they had met up with Annie and Beckett to go over the plan.
"We're meeting Beckett and Annie there," he said, stepping away from The Drop. Enyd followed and began to fuss over Katya.
She nodded, and asked, "Are we ready?"
"Wait a moment," Enyd breathed, her hand snaking into her satchel. She pulled a small, folded pile of cloth out and handed it to Silco. "To cover your faces with," she explained.
He nodded and handed one of the four handkerchiefs to Katya. Taking it, she unfolded it once, a glimmer against the pitch fabric catching her eye. She squinted in the low light, and saw that there was a small 'Z' stitched into the corner with silver thread.
"Be safe, yeah?" Vander said, shifting restlessly. While his strong jaw remained set, his eyes shone with worry.
Silco nodded. "We will be back in a few hours."
Enyd threw herself into him, holding on tightly. He drew her close and reassured, "It will be uneventful. In and out."
Katya nodded; so did Vander, as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Reluctantly, Enyd pulled back from her son, only for her slim arms to reach for and hold on to the young woman. Thrown off, but grateful, Katya returned the embrace.
"In and out," she repeated. "Like he said."
Regardless, Enyd insisted, "Be careful." She stepped back and gave the pair a warning look. They nodded and stole away down the alley. Vander placed a massive hand on Enyd's shoulder as they watched them go.
Silco and Katya slipped silently through Zaun's alleyways and to the docks. Annie and Beckett met them in the shadows of the Harbormaster's hut, both looking uncharacteristically serious. In addition to their dark outfits, Beckett wore a black knit cap over his fire-red hair, and Annie had spun her own dark locks into a tight braid, instead of her usual loose pigtails. There were quick 'hellos' – Annie simply jutting her chin in Katya's direction – and Silco handed the pair the remaining two masks.
The docks were dark and quiet as they strode for the small dinghy lazily bobbing in the water, waiting for them. Beckett took the back and readied the motor. Annie took the middle bench, while Katya and Silco sat hip-to-hip at the bow. Beckett untied the vessel and ripped the motor's cord. It puttered to life and they began the short voyage to a small grotto just beneath the airship base. The boat would hide there while they executed their plan.
The water beneath the boat was so still; a smooth, black mirror of the sky. Beckett captained the vessel gently, leaving only a glossy ripple in their wake. None of them spoke. Katya's knee bobbled nervously as they went. Eventually, Silco put a hand on her leg, keeping his touch light.
"It'll be okay," he promised. He paused, and added in a quieter whisper, "I got you. I won't let anything happen."
Katya gave him a thankful smile, but her heart thundered on. It was a moment before Silco realized that he had left his hand on her thigh. Slowly, so as to not draw attention to himself, he drew his hand back. His fingers tingled and he flexed them, wondering why it suddenly felt difficult to breathe.
With the pace they kept, it took a little over an hour to reach the grotto. Beckett harbored the small boat just out of sight of any prying eyes. As they exited the vessel, both Beckett and Annie swung large, empty sacks over their shoulders and handed one each to Katya and Silco. They tucked Enyd's masks up over their noses, and they ascended the steep cliff face. The climb became easier once the natural, jagged rock gave way to the smooth stone that built up the tower of the hanger. However, the biting wind off the Pilt stung their eyes and cheeks now that the extra rock cover was beneath them.
"The third hanger," Annie whispered as they approached the first massive cavern in the cliffs. She pointed up for good measure.
While Katya had of course seen airships and blimps far up in the sky, it was very different seeing them up close, tethered and waiting in their bays. Impressive, hulking machines made from metal, wood, glass, and fabric. She didn't know if it was because it was so late, but they did not have to dodge as many workers as she expected. The few she spied were lazily leaned against the iron gangways that bracketed each airship, smoking and distracted by conversations they were having with one another.
The ship in the third bay up was not as large as the one beneath, a fact Katya found comforting. Less room to have to search through, fewer crew members to have to avoid. The small group huddled together at the mouth of the cavern.
"The delivery from Clapper should already be aboard," Silco said. "Stowed in the belly of the main cabin. Time?"
Beckett checked the chrono on his wrist. "It's 9:30."
"The ship is supposed to sail at 10:00," Annie supplied.
Silco nodded. "Right. We sneak in, find the delivery, get the coin, and get out."
Katya swallowed and set her jaw. Her heart tapped and she steeled her nerves. Stealing from the mines medical supplies seemed so much less risky compared to this.
They carefully crept onto the catwalks, mindful to keep their footsteps as soft as they could. They ducked behind crates and kept careful watch of the workers above and below them. They approached the ramp that led onto the ship and paused. Silco and Beckett looked to Annie, who skirted around them and sneaked up to the door, and silently slid it open. She peered inside, and after a beat, beckoned them to follow her.
The cabin was dimly lit and full of boxes. To their right there was a door and a brighter light spilled beneath it. Muffled voices murmured behind it. At once, Beckett began silently stacking boxes in front of the door. Katya joined in and set additional crates in front of that pile.
"Here," Annie whispered. She handed each member a chem-torch from a nearby shelf. She flicked hers on and held it beneath her chin, making a twisted face.
"Not now, Annie," Silco admonished, turning his own on.
Annie rolled her eyes at him and began looking absently around the cabin. "Oh! Look at this!"
The other three turned, expecting to see a crate with the Clapper insignia on it. Instead, Annie enthusiastically thrusted a small, metal and glass contraption towards them.
"It's a camera! I think," she said excitedly, spinning the object in her hands to look at it. "I've never seen one."
"Put it back, Annie," Katya hissed. "That is not what we're here for."
The other woman ignored her and stuck the camera in her bag.
"Come on," Silco insisted. "There's a door over here. It should take us below."
Indeed, the door opened onto a short staircase that took them below the main cabin. Larger boxes were stowed there and the group dispersed, looking for their target.
"Here," Katya called after a minute. Her torch's beam shone over a large, squat box with Clapper's logo stamped across the wood. The rest of the party gathered around, and Beckett withdrew a prybar from his sack and opened the crate. They pawed through the paper confetti cushioning the delivery until they finally uncovered the curtains beneath. "Nasha said the coin would be sewn into the hems."
Silco and Annie reached in, feeling for the ends of the fabric.
"Here," Silco said, lifting the end of one panel up. The fabric sagged and sifted over his hands, gently clinking as it moved. He withdrew the knife from his boot and slashed the hem open. Gold hexes fell out. Katya's mouth went dry, both Beckett and Annie's eyes went wide.
"Fuck," Beckett breathed. "I've never seen so much coin."
"And this is only a fraction of it," Silco said, and Katya could hear the smile in his voice.
They filled Annie and Beckett's bags first.
"Fuckin' Janna," Annie complained as she slung the pack over her shoulders. "This guy must be in deep shit if he owes this much coin."
"It's 9:45," Beckett announced, adjusting his partner's bag.
Silco nodded. "You two go. Start heading back down to the boat."
"Be careful," Katya implored as they crawled back up the stairs.
Together, she and Silco dug through and cut open the remaining curtains, emptying the gold into their bags. Once they got to the bottom of the crate, they carefully pawed through the panels again, making sure not a coin was left behind.
Above them, a door opened and loud footsteps stomped along the floor. Both Katya and Silco froze, bodies tense like springs, hearts thundering. There wasn't another way out. Only up, back through the main cabin – where someone was traipsing about, entirely unbothered by the amount of noise they made.
They should've checked how many of the crew had been in the main bridge of the airship before boxing it up . . .
"What the fuck is this?" an unfamiliar gruff voice muttered. Then the sound of him shifting boxes around.
Silco turned to say something to Katya and she jumped, knocking into the crate's lid, and toppling it over. It wasn't a loud sound, but noisy and unsuspected enough that it alerted the crew member above them.
"Whose down there?"
"Hide!" Silco hissed, pushing Katya into a darkened corner.
No sooner had she stumbled behind another tower of crates, did the door at the top of the stairs open, a large shadow looming down the steps and into the cargo hold. She hurriedly turned her torch off, gulping down a scared gasp. Silco sprang for the shadows. But the light pouring in caught his boot before he could slip away entirely. His own chem-torch rattled and rolled away across the floor. The man grunted an amused tone and began down the steps, each footfall heavy. Meant to intimidate.
Katya pressed her back into the wall behind her, scarcely daring to breathe. This couldn't be happening . . . This couldn't be happening. This was supposed to be an in-and-out job. Her skeleton wanted to crumble to the floor; her meager supper threatened to make a reappearance. She shouldn't have agreed to this; she hadn't been in the right state of mind when she agreed. What had she been thinking?
She'd been thinking of her brother, she knew. Of how he deserved the world, and that this was supposed to be a way of giving it to him.
She bit her lip under her mask to keep from making a sound. She had also been thinking of herself, if she was honest. She was so angry with Piltover. So, so angry that they wanted to take another thing from her. Like she didn't deserve it. Like Viktor would be better off without her. That she was nothing, and deserved to fall into soot-covered obscurity in the Sump and die.
"What's this?"
The man spoke and Katya started, peering out from behind a tower of crates. Her stomach curdled. The crew member – a very large man with a sneer on his face and an iron bar in one hand – had pulled Silco out of the shadows and now stood over him. Silco glared up at him, his blue eyes shards of ice that cut between the space of his hair and the mask. Next to his side, the bag of coins was open, its golden belly glittering in the light.
Suddenly, there was a rumbling. The frame of the airship thrummed and vibrated. And then it jolted forward. Katya's stomach tumbled. The ship was leaving port! Her mind raced. She couldn't get caught. And she couldn't be hauled off to Bilgewater. She couldn't abandon Viktor. She had to figure out an escape. At this point, whether or not the money made it back to Zaun didn't concern her.
"Thieving little Sumprat," the crew member growled at Silco, taking another step towards him. The meaty fist that held the iron bar twitched.
Katya's hand twitched too. Toward the small revolver tucked in her trouser pocket. She had debated leaving it at home, and was now glad she hadn't. Before the man could raise the bar over his head, she took the gun out, aimed, and fired. The pop of the gun was sharp, and rang off the metal hull of the ship. The bullet lodged itself into the back of the crew member's knee, and he howled in anguish, crumpling to the floor. Silco lurched forward and grabbed the iron bar, and cracked him across the head.
The Enforcer fell. Katya's father stomped on his ankles.
Bones crushing. Hollow wails.
From the ground, the Enforcer delivered one blow of his baton to Katya's father's head.
Katya's mind spun and her body froze, cold terror leaching out any warmth in her. Her vision began to white out around her periphery. Silco shouting her name, and reaching for her shook her out of the memory and back into her body.
"Kat! Are you okay?" He gripped her shoulders tightly as his eyes scoured her body. "You're not hurt, are you?"
Katya took a couple shaky breaths and shook her head. "No. Are you?"
"No. We need to get moving. The other crew members will have heard that – "
"The ship is moving!" Katya suddenly cried. The floor was softly rumbling beneath her feet.
"I know," Silco said. His hands flew from her shoulders to cup her face. "We're going to get back home. Okay? You hear me? I got you."
She swallowed and nodded. Her eyes flicked over to the prone man behind him. "Is he . . .?"
"No, just knocked out. I think," Silco assured. He stepped over and quickly assessed the man. "No. He's breathing. Come on."
As they scrambled up the stairs, the rest of the crew was shouting and ramming into the door Beckett and Katya had blocked off. A fair amount of boxes had been knocked away, the door open enough that one of them could shove his shoulder and arm out, trying to topple some of the crates just out of reach. His eyes bulged seeing the two stow-aways skitter to a stop.
"Who the fuck are you?!"
His outburst caused the other members behind him to scuffle and fight to get looks at who he was referring to.
"Thieves!" Someone yelled.
"Move!" Another screamed, knocking the man in front aside. A gun barrel appeared in the doorway, and it fired.
The shot was not aimed at anything, and Silco and Katya ducked as the bullet hit a crate. It exploded in a burst of splinters and paper. Another shot was fired; this one ricocheting off a metal pipe, causing sparks to rain down from the ceiling in a fine mist.
"Stop wasting bullets!" Someone yelled.
The distraction was enough to let Silco and Katya throw themselves into the door and crush the people behind it. The gun went off again as the nose of it was flung up by the impact. The bullet sliced through a tube slung on the ceiling, and fluid began spraying out of it in wide swaths.
Katya screamed and leapt back. She tripped over a crate and fell. Silco went after her, grabbing her arm. As he went to pull her onto her feet, he paused, sniffing. They both looked over to the decimated crate. It was smoking, orange embers slowly licking to life, eating away at the wood and paper. Growing bigger, stronger.
"Fuck," he whispered. For the first time, he sounded uncertain. Scared.
Behind them, the door to the bridge finally burst open, the three remaining crew members tumbling out, ready to fight. Katya's eyes immediately picked out the woman who held the gun – a rifle, judging by its long barrel. She pulled her own gun back out and fired at her shin. The woman screamed and collapsed to the floor. Silco tackled into the man that had been trying to wedge through the door earlier, bowling both of them over back into the airship's bridge.
The second man eyed the growing fire behind Katya with big, terrified eyes. He froze up as his counterpart on the floor yelled at him to do something. So, he did. Wrenching open the sliding door on the ship's hull, he let a huge gush of air into the cabin. The embers sucked the sudden onslaught of oxygen up in a mighty WHOOSH. The flames ate and grew, licking up the walls and lapping at the ceiling. All three screamed, Katya scrabbling away from the fire. The heat bit at the sliver of flesh visible between her bangs and nose bridge. The smell of burning chemicals, hair, and heat filled the air. The crew member who had opened the bay door looked out at the view below him, back at the fire, to the woman on the floor, to Katya, to the gun in her hand, and jumped out.
The woman on the floor screamed and thrashed, trying to grab Katya's revolver. Panic sluiced over her body, taking control of her limbs, as her assailant grabbed at her pant leg and attempted to pull her down. Katya's limbs locked up a moment before exploding into action. Her free leg swung, the toe of her boot connecting with the underside of her attacker's jaw. There was a sickening crack! and a garbled, anguished howl as the crew member was flung to the side. When she didn't move, Katya lurched forward and grabbed the rifle before running into the airship's bridge.
Silco had taken care of the final crew member; the man was slouched against one of the seats, blood dribbling from his lips, one of his hands pierced to the floor by a knife. Silco himself was at the consol, frantically looking over all the levers and buttons.
"The fire is spreading!" Katya cried.
Silco looked over his shoulder at her, and saw the blaze in the other room. The sweat trickling down his back was not only from the heat. Above them, there was a loud metallic groan and crash as the flames began eating away at the frame around the canvas balloon. Katya shrieked and jumped to Silco's side. His mind raced, but no idea landed. He stared out the windshield at the expanse of black in front of them. Below, he could see the stars reflected off the Pilt, the orange fireball he and Katya were now engulfed in.
"We need to jump!" she shouted. He looked at her, eyes wide. "It's our only option! Jump and swim to shore!"
Behind them, another gust of wind fanned the fire, and it surged up and around. Each of them could feel the thread of their clothes beginning to burn, the buckles of their boots becoming blisteringly hot. Silco agreed with her: jumping would be their only chance. He grabbed the rifle in her hand and beat it against the airships windows until they shattered. They scrambled up onto the consol and peered down below. The cool, briny air was a welcome relief from the heat and smoke. Less appealing was the very large drop between them and the water. Katya felt Silco freeze next to her, his body going rigid with fear.
"Come on!" she screamed, grabbing his hand and knocking her shoulder roughly into his. "Please!"
Silco grit his teeth, his fingers clamping down around Katya's. "I got you," he promised.
Katya wasn't sure what made her say it, but she nodded and replied, "You have me."
Together, they leapt from the airship. Plummeting down, down, down to the water below.
A/N: Wuh-oh! Cliffhanger! Thank you for reading 3 Please leave a comment on the way out.
Coming Up Next: The Children of Zaun make their prescense known.