(Genesis) Chapter 8

Pride: Genesis

Chapter 8

Hit the Fan

Keith had spent a couple of days debating this, but finally decided it had to be done. Just to make the point. Things had to be addressed if the unit was going to run smoothly, not just left alone.

"Kleid, you got a minute? Come on up to the conference room."

Flynn didn't acknowledge the order, but within two minutes he was walking in the door. The Firecrown was not a large ship. "What's up?" He had his ponytail over his shoulder, which was unusual and probably impractical. But wearing it that way covered up the dark bruise on his jaw.

"Don't try to hide it, I saw it the other day."

"…Habit," Flynn shrugged, flipping his hair back.

Right. "I know why you didn't report it. I don't blame you for doing it."

Immediately his second's demeanor frosted over. It was slight, but it was there. "Excuse me?"

Keith leaned back in his chair, watching for a moment to see if he'd break. He didn't. Not surprising, really. "Nothing bad is going to happen to him… nor you. But I know what happened."

Flynn hissed under his breath. "Faex, Garrett…"

"No." Keith shook his head. "He didn't spill."

"…No? Not like I could really order him to lie to you anyway."

"No, but you did order him not to tell, and he was true to his word. I guessed… correctly."

"I see." Flynn shook his head. "You did leave us in a pretty volatile situation."

"I know. I'm sorry." Keith sighed and gestured to the bruise. "That, I know, was meant for me."

That earned him a very strange look. "I can pretty well assure you I earned it myself, actually. Besides, I generally figure the bridge crew is your problem, but… defusing that sort of thing for you is part of my job."

That was not something Keith particularly wanted to hear. He'd spent his whole career trying to be hands-on and accountable, not leaving things to subordinates that he wouldn't do himself. He sure as hell didn't want anyone under his command taking punches for him. But it wasn't entirely incorrect, so he just nodded. "Given that, do you have any suggestions on how we might avoid such incidents in the future?"

"I've already talked to him."

That wasn't an answer. "I figured you would have, but I'd prefer to have more information instead of just leaving you to defuse that powder keg." He nodded towards his datapad; he'd done a little more research on Lance after the incident. "Considering his past, it's understandable, but the Galra are a very… touchy subject for him."

Flynn considered that for a minute. "Granted. But the only thing I can tell you about the actual situation is that he seemed like he snapped out of it after he punched me, so—"

A massive crack cut him off, the ship lurching and shaking violently around them for several seconds. Before the shaking was finished several alarms started screaming. And just as abruptly as it had started the wild motion stopped. In fact, all sense of motion stopped, the telltale sign of no longer being in hyperspace.

What the hell…?

Keith looked at Flynn, nodded, and they both ran for the bridge.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Lance was on bridge duty, and it had been going just fine. Now he yanked the controls, fighting to recover as the Firecrown jolted out of hyperspace. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck." He kept muttering the mantra under his breath. The ship was nearly impossible to maneuver.

With a hiss the bridge hatch opened, admitting Keith with Flynn right on his heels. "Status report!" He'd barely finished the command when Sven appeared, running straight to his console.

"Something yanked us out of hyperspace," Lance answered through gritted teeth. "There are gravitational issues."

"Gravitational issues?" Flynn repeated quietly. "In the middle of nowhere in real space?" He moved up and looked over Sven's shoulder.

"Got me, but I know what I'm feeling."

Flynn didn't doubt that… and the patterns showing up on Sven's monitors were familiar. More familiar than he appreciated. "Faex."

Lance checked his own monitors, but didn't see anything immediately worrisome. "What is it?"

"Breach containment disruptor. It's a kind of… hyperspace tripwire. Usually only pirates use it." He grimaced. "And gravitational disruption points to an interdiction field."

Of course. The engineer's words made everything click in Sven's mind. "That would explain it." Interdiction fields were localized gravity wells that prevented ships from breaching into hyperspace; they frequently involved gravitational pulses rather than stationary fields, just to make it harder on any ships caught inside. "We won't be able to jump back out."

Wonderful. Keith closed his eyes for a moment. "Sven, find the source." He crossed over to the command chair, bringing up the main screen, and got even worse news. "We have incoming. Three contacts. They're circling around us." The approaching ships were smaller than the Firecrown, but that wasn't a good thing. Under these circumstances they were sure to be fighters, and that could make for some serious trouble.

"I can't get an exact location on the source," Sven reported, typing furiously. "I just have a general direction."

"Fucking pirates," Lance muttered. He was still trying to maneuver, but the gravity kept fluctuating; whenever he thought he was getting a feel for it, it changed. "We got a plan, boss?"

As if prompted by his words, the comms crackled on an open frequency. "Attention Endeavor-class, we have you surrounded. Shut down your engines and all non-essential systems and prepare to be boarded."

Like hell. Keith narrowed his eyes. "All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill!"

Flynn immediately bolted from the bridge, looking more than a little relieved to be doing so. Lance and Sven were really already where they belonged, and with Hunk being on shift he would be too. But after a moment, a question he hadn't considered came over the comms. "Uh, boss? Do I have a battle station?"

Jace. No. No, he did not. "Doc, just… stay in your quarters and don't get hurt." Keith returned his focus to the monitors. "Holgersson, we need the location of whatever's creating this gravity field. McClain, when he finds it, you do what you can to get us close to it. Kleid, we need those missiles up and armed. Yesterday."

"Awesome, we got a plan," Lance grinned. "Okay Viking, find me Valhalla to point us toward."

Sven debated telling him all the reasons that metaphor was incorrect, but it didn't seem like the time. "The gravity pulses are generating from our left. I won't know its exact location until we get closer."

"Left it is." Lance gritted his teeth. It was painfully slow, but the Firecrown was moving. Sure it felt like they were trying to push a very large brick wall ahead of them, but moving was moving.

Flynn sprinted into the engine bay at top speed; Hunk was already there, running diagnostics on the breach drive. "Hunk, you're on point defense." He ran to the main console and pulled up the missile status.

Ohhh boy. "You got it, pit boss!" No sense waiting for the diagnostics to finish. There are bad guys outside was a good enough diagnosis for now. He called up the defense console. "Turrets are all green."

"Good." Flynn grimaced as he worked past the weapons failsafes. "Gunnery console is unlocked, Kogane. There's a small complication."

"What complication?"

"We don't have time to reroute it back here." Point defenses, being largely automated, were controlled from the bay, but for the real weapons the ship's designers had assumed there would actually be someone at that empty gunnery console on the bridge. "Hope you can shoot and give orders at the same time."

Oh, was that all? Keith smirked, crossing over to the gunnery chair. "Got it."

Lance spared him a brief look. Well that smirk is scary. No time to dwell on that. "Viking? Getting stronger readings yet?"

"If I had anything that would help I would tell you," Sven answered delicately.

"Hold your course, McClain." Keith targeted the nearest of the pirates, praying to anyone or anything who might be listening. "And let's hope this works."

"I'll get us more left then," their pilot muttered. This was more like trying to maneuver in choppy seas than in deep space, and he damn sure hadn't signed on to drive boats.

"Missile away," Keith announced, and the ship's frame shuddered slightly. "Come on…"

The missile left a streak of blue flame and a faint afterimage in the darkness as it sped towards the nearest pirate fighter. Once it visibly wavered in the pulsing gravity, but it flew true. Maybe the pirates were impeded by their own trap. Maybe they just couldn't react fast enough. Either way, the missile slammed into the belly of the fighter and vanished along with its target in a fiery explosion.

Lance nodded silent appreciation for the shooting. What came next made him even more appreciative. "Lance, adjust your course fifteen degrees starboard. The pulse there is weaker, you should be able to move the ship a little better."

Following Sven's instructions, he immediately felt the Firecrown pick up speed, and gave a long sigh of relief. It was a start, at least…

If only they had some ideas on how to get out of this.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Back in the bay, several alarms were sounding—whoever had designed this ship wanted to be very certain its crew knew when it was in over its head, apparently. The problem was there were too many alarms to really single anything important out. Scowling, Flynn slammed the overrides and took up manual monitoring just in time to see the first fighter go down.

"Nice shooting, Kogane," he muttered under his breath. No time to celebrate; a warning light flashed. "Hunk! Enemy missile lock."

"Ain't a problem, pit boss!" Hunk watched the targeting screen light up with new flares, painting each one for the defense systems. The computer could lock onto a heat signal and guide the turrets to knock it out of the sky; what the computer could not reliably do was figure out which heat signals were enemy missiles as opposed to, well, a lot of other things. Like engines. And tracers. And friendly missiles.

It just needed a little help. Good thing Hunk enjoyed being helpful.

A series of sharp clicks indicated the turrets swinging into place, and flickers of violet laser light split the darkness. "Missiles down."

"Missile away," Keith called out over the main comms at nearly the same moment. Hunk watched its heat signature spiral towards one of the fighters, and graze right past the pirate's wing as the target pulled off some pretty impressive evasion. The missile blinked away into… darkness?

Wait a sec…

What had initially appeared as a distant star had just flickered. Stars didn't flicker in space. Eyes widening, Hunk increased the range of the defense console's scans. "Uh, pit boss? We got a problem…"

That wasn't news. "You want to specify?"

"There's another ship out there. Stationary, but it's uh, it's kinda big."

"…Yes, that's a problem." Flynn checked the distance scans and hissed in shock. "Ceve. Kogane, we have what looks to be a Leyte-class carrier up ahead. As in, we're flying right at it. Thought you might want to know."

If things weren't so dire he'd have been embarrassed. Admittedly, the circumstances they'd jumped into didn't lend themselves to calmly assessing the surroundings… but there was losing a bit of situational awareness in combat, and then there was the entire team missing a goddamn carrier.

Another missile launched from the Firecrown, this one taking out the pirate who'd dodged their last shot. "A carrier?" Keith repeated grimly. "I'm willing to bet that's the source of our gravity field."

"What, it's somewhere on the ginormous bad guy ship?" Hunk muttered. "Good! Glad we could narrow it down." Flynn looked up long enough to shoot him a surprised glance, and he grinned. "Gotta snark at least once in awhile, pit boss. I don't wanna not fit in with the team."

…He had a point there.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

It was all Sven could do to make sense of his scans. Navigational monitors were intended for reading fluctuations in hyperspace energies, not real space gravitational pulses. Even when he thought he had a picture, it was constantly shifting. But with a large, solid chunk of metal up ahead, he could at least be sure of one thing. "You'd win your bet, Commander. The generator is definitely on the carrier."

"Well, shit," Lance grumbled. "Okay so, I'll just keep flying towards the huge-ass ship…"

"Do that." Keith closed his eyes. The Leyte-class was an obsolete old workhorse that had never been outfitted for direct combat, but who knew what these pirates might have done to it. Either way, it was huge and inconvenient. "We've only got three missiles left. We're not going to be able to take out the last ship on our tail and that carrier with only three missiles." Hell, they'd barely dent the carrier alone.

"We don't need to take out the carrier," Sven countered. "Only the generator."

"Which has to be on the outside of the ship somewhere," Flynn agreed, "or it would rip it apart. Most likely one of the weapons bays."

That sounded a bit more promising, at least. "Okay. McClain, get us closer." He grimaced as the Firecrown lurched; he'd have preferred to not have to get anywhere near a ship that size in this unpredictable gravity. "And be sure you don't run into it."

Their pilot scoffed. "What do you take me for?"

"…You really want me to answer that?"

"Maybe later."

Smirking, Keith dropped his crosshair over the last fighter as it darted in close. "Missile away." There was no way the pirate was going to dodge that. It had come in too close. Close enough that the explosion rocked them slightly, but then they were past the debris and all clear…

"Missile lock from the carrier," Flynn called out. "Correction. Locks."

…Okay, not all clear. "Son of a…"

"Bitch?" Lance volunteered, making an attempt at evasion that didn't accomplish much of anything.

"I've got 'em," Hunk assured them. "Probably."

Well that was encouraging. Keith narrowed his eyes, trying to pick a spot to aim on the carrier. Maybe aiming wasn't necessary. He was pretty damn certain he could hit the thing. Taking a deep breath, he fired the last two missiles and hoped for a miracle.

"Lance, if you get below the ship we should be able to move better, the pulses seem weaker." The closer they got to the carrier, the more Sven could make out the patterns… though there were still problems. "Fair warning though, the closer we get to the source the harder it's going to be to move."

"Fucking brilliant," Lance growled under his breath. "Fucking gravity bullshit." But slipping below the other ship's plane of operation did seem to help for the moment, and he grinned.

The missiles Keith had fired reached the carrier, exploding into twin fireballs on its hull. At the same time the carrier's missiles curved to track them, and the point defense turrets clicked into position. "Brace yourselves," Hunk warned suddenly, "this is gonna suck!"

Nobody really had time to brace.

There were some limitations to point defenses; particularly, shooting down certain missile types too near the ship tended to cause splash damage. It was still better than taking a large metal projectile to the hull, no doubt. And the Firecrown's turrets did manage to prevent that, but several of the missiles still detonated close enough to fling the ship violently to one side.

Keith was thrown from his chair; he'd neglected to actually strap in at the gunnery console. Not that he had much reason to be there anymore now that they were out of missiles. "Damage report!"

"Shields are holding," Flynn reported after a moment. "They won't hold again. Looks like you got at least one of the carrier's launchers, that'll help."

Ignoring the new kink in his neck and ache in his muscles from the explosions, Lance corrected their course and scowled. "I hate gravity."

Apparently that had been loud enough for the comms to catch; Flynn laughed humorlessly. "It hates you too, flyboy."

"It fears me."

"Lance, I've got something," Sven interrupted urgently. "Look at this." With the source close and the fighters no longer disrupting things, the pattern was finally completely clear to him. A series of gravitational ripples was emanating from the carrier's starboard side. They were irregular, chaotic… but there were gaps. The same weaker spots they'd been chasing this far, painted with perfect clarity.

"Hell yes," Lance grinned. This he could deal with. Immediately he pitched the Firecrown to the side, falling into one of the narrow bands between pulses. "Just keep that info coming, Viking."

The ripples were expanding, of course. If they just stayed in the weak zone they'd only get further away from the carrier. No problem. He throttled the engines up, building as much speed as he could before wrenching around and sending them punching through one of the pulses. It bled off most of their momentum, but that was workable. He had this.

Slowly, the Firecrown began spiraling in on its target.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Though they didn't have the same scans Sven had access to, it was clear enough in the bay what was going on. Good tactics, but there was a small problem still.

"So uh, what do we do when we find this thing?" Hunk asked hesitantly. "Kinda outta missiles."

"I don't think these missiles could lock on something that precise even if we had them," Flynn pointed out.

"Yeah, true."

"There has to be something we can do." The frustration was clear in Keith's voice. "What about the point defenses? What do we have there?"

The point defenses? Flynn blinked. "Twelve laser turrets, eight vulcan turrets." He had an idea of where this was going. "They're designed for quick tracking and precision, they don't have much power or range."

"Can they be manually targeted? Because unless you're hiding more missiles somewhere on this rust bucket, they're all we've got!"

Oh yes, it had gone there. He exchanged glances with Hunk. "Kogane, that's insane."

"Totally insane," the other engineer agreed, and a wide grin spread over his face. "I like it."

Flynn grinned back. "Same." He started running calculations. "Lance, you're going to have to get us close. We’ll get the effective range of the lasers up as much as we can, but we'll have to divert power from the shields."

He could almost hear the matching grin in Lance's voice. "Finally we're going to do some Explorer Team fuckery."

"Language," Keith grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. Finally some Explorer Team bleepablip."

"Will you just fly and get us to that ship?"

"I'm pushing her as fast as she'll go, trust me."

The shriek of the engines backed that up, at least. As they worked their way through the interdiction field, Hunk switched the point defense targeting to manual. Or tried to. "Pit boss, the computer needs authorization cuz I'm askin' it to do somethin' stupid."

Flynn smirked and entered his command code into his own console, which had popped up with the computer's equivalent of what the fuck are you thinking? while Hunk spoke. The Endeavor-class really didn't expect its crew to know anything about combat. Though nearly as soon as he'd okayed the request, the pirates decided to make him reconsider. "Missile lock!"

"Oh that is not cool." The targeting screen had dissolved into a mess of about ten different crosshairs and overlapping firing arc lines. It wasn't going to be pretty…

"Brace for impact!" Keith ordered.

Now that wasn't cool either. "No faith, boss!" Rather than even bother trying to target the incoming missiles, he just hit the trigger and held it. The missiles slammed into a solid wall of fire and exploded harmlessly. "Impact my ass…"

"No thanks," Flynn mumbled under his breath.

Hunk glanced over at him. "Dude, now who's… okay I kinda deserved that."

"Kind of."

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Lance was not thrilled with being bailed out by desperation point defense. "Wish I could fucking do evasive maneuvers." Not that there was any real room for that anyway, having to keep the Firecrown to the narrow gaps in the field. But the point still stood.

Keith sighed in relief. "Good shooting, Garrett. …At least I think that's who I should be thanking?"

"Always thank your bomb guy!" Hunk answered brightly.

"Holgersson, tell me you've got that generator."

"Yes sir." Sven had been refining the coordinates with every pass. "It's right underneath the bridge of the carrier, starboard side."

"I see it," Hunk confirmed. "Got it locked into the system, we're still outta range."

Still? It felt like they were insanely close. Keith watched the carrier looming in the main screen, fighting down nerves. Capital ships getting so close in combat nearly always meant mutually assured destruction. The Firecrown wasn't even close to being a capital ship, but years of training were hard to shake. All he could do right now was observe and trust his team.

"Commander." Flynn sounded less confident than he would've liked, but who could blame him? "Request permission to drop shields."

"Do it."

The lights flickered as the ship's power systems rerouted. They were passing around the port side of the carrier now, the generator hidden behind at least a hundred meters of armored hull. Keith found himself holding his breath.

And the last thing he'd wanted to hear came over the comms. "Enemy missile lock."

"Hunk, it has to go now."

"Punch it, bro!"

"On it!" There was only one option for punching it at this stage. Lance wrenched the controls around, no longer following the gaps, pushing the engines to max and cutting sharply in towards the carrier. The ship was thrown as violently as if they'd actually taken missile impacts, but he kept forcing it. "Come on, girl…"

Would Hunk be able to target effectively under these conditions? No, he couldn't worry about that. He just had to get them there.

The Firecrown came around the carrier's stern, and a flurry of short-beam lasers and low-caliber tracers linked them to the carrier with a tether of blinding light.

The generator detonated.

The resistance vanished.

"Fuck yeah!" Lance grinned like a loon as they shot forward, putting distance between themselves and a flurry of missiles meant to track much slower targets. Not even Keith's glare could dampen his excitement. "I mean, YIPPEEEE! Real flight!"

"Kleid, tell me the breach drive is good," Keith growled.

"It's good enough. Go!"

"Holgersson, we need a jump, now! McClain, get us the hell out of here."

"Yes sir!" Sven had been ready. As soon as he got the order the coordinates were in, pointing the general direction they'd been heading before hitting the trap. Lance was more than ready, bringing them around and engaging the breach drive.

In a crackle of energy, the Firecrown disappeared into the safety of hyperspace, the missiles detonating harmlessly in their wake.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Keith took a minute just to catch his breath. Combat aboard an actual warship was a much… calmer affair, that was for sure. But they'd made it. That was what mattered.

"Shields are back up," Flynn reported. "Kogane, you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Give me my vegetables before my dessert, Kleid."

There was a pause that seemed a bit too long. "…We already have two people fighting over the galley…"

Sigh. "Bad, then good."

"Oh. The breach drive took damage from the disruptor."

Of course it had. "Great. How bad is it?"

"Charging is at about 20% efficiency, and we burned our reserve charge with that breach. It's not critical, but it's very inconvenient."

Right now, Keith would take inconvenient. "How long do you need?"

"Not long, it's an easy enough fix, it just can't be done while we're actually in hyperspace. We can do it on Kithran."

"So we're limping the rest of the way, got it. And the good news?"

Another pause. "The fact that it's still working at all was the good news."

Lance snorted; Keith rolled his eyes. "Oh. Well in that case, good." He keyed up the comms back to the passenger quarters. "Doc, you alright back there?"

"Fuck everyone who was responsible for that with a rusty titanium spatula," Jace growled.

Okay then. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Titanium doesn't rust, bro," Hunk said helpfully. That got a few more curses and a cut channel; the big man chuckled. "He's fine."

Clearly. Keith looked at his crewmates on the bridge. "You two okay?"

"I'm fine, sir."

"I need to unclench…"

He couldn't help a smirk. "Go change your underwear, Lance."

Glare. "Oh fuck off… er, boss."

What else could he do after that fight? He burst into laughter.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Allura was in the castle gymnasium, looking through the equipment. She was wearing a light jumpsuit—loose enough for freedom of movement, tight enough not to snag on anything—one of too few casual outfits she could get away with wearing in public. It wouldn't be proper to wear a formal gown for exercising, after all… though, she frowned as she picked up a sleek racquet and examined it. She'd seen people scurry about in knee-length skirts and wide-brimmed hats, trying to chase a tiny ball around and hit it over a net… she wondered who had dreamt up either that endeavor, or that dress code.

I might never understand…

Fortunately, not even Nanny was trying to force her into that. Yet. She much preferred horseback riding, but maybe not today. She had duties to perform later, she ought to keep her activity light.

Besides, she wasn't going to be alone.

Larmina knew only that she'd been summoned to a room she wasn't familiar with and told to dress casually. That wasn't very specific, so she was in her workout clothes and if Nanny didn't like it she had only herself to blame. But it wasn't Nanny waiting for her, and she grinned, relieved.

"Oh, Auntie."

"Hello." Allura turned and smiled, still holding the racquet. "Are you ready for a bit of fun?"

"Fun? Is there such a thing here?" Larmina looked around the room; it reminded her of the dojo back home, near the manor. The one her mother had sent her to in secret, determined that her daughter should learn to defend herself… but hadn't expected her daughter to enjoy nearly so much.

Auntie waited for her to finish looking around. "It can be." She gave the racquet a twirl, then set it back on the rack. "Depends on your favorite physical activity."

Oh REALLY? Eyes lightning up, Larmina went over to the equipment and started looking over the selection. It was mostly what she'd have expected from a Big Fat Arusian castle, racquets and bows and little feathery darts. Some she wasn't even sure what they'd be used for, like the ropes fashioned into unwieldy-looking slings. She didn't really expect to find her own specialty here. Staves were peasant weapons, too common and rough to be worthy of delicate noble hands… she'd barely finished thinking it when a glint of dark polished wood caught her eye.

I am so here for this.

Picking up the quarterstaff, she turned and shrugged. "I'm pretty good with this."

"The staff… a good one." Allura took another from the rack, looking it over. A commoner's weapon it may have been, but it required skill and dexterity, and was certainly more genteel than a blade. "Well then, want a round or two?"

That earned her a rather doubtful look, but it didn't last long. With a smirk the other girl dropped into a defensive stance. "Depends how bad you want your butt kicked."

Allura chuckled. "We'll have to see about that." She took on her own challenging stance… and had barely gotten her feet set when Larmina lunged, somehow going straight from her defensive crouch into an aggressive sweep at her legs. "Oooh…" She dodged—barely—but was a little taken aback, and her answering sweep was half a second too slow.

Rather than sidestepping, which she could've done easily, Larmina jumped over the sweep and forward again. This got her in easily behind Allura's guard, and she lightly rapped her forehead with a fist before leaping back. Which was emphatically not so genteel. "Should I have mentioned I don't play by royal rules?"

"Maybe…" Allura made a show of sighing, but it turned into a laugh halfway through. "Oh well. Again?"

"I'm in for it." Grin. "Come and get me."

That was the sort of invitation one did not accept at face value, and Allura didn't; she darted forward and gave a short jab before changing the blow and arcing up. She was rewarded, scoring a hit that clipped Larmina's shoulder.

Larmina made a quick feint herself, using it to get some distance. "Nanny lets you train with this?"

"She'd rather I not…" Allura snorted, imitating Nanny's tone as she blocked the next strike and took another sweep for the legs. "It's not proper!"

Planting her staff on the ground to block the sweep, Larmina retreated a little further. "Of course it isn't. But if you don't exercise how are you supposed to fit into your proper frilly corsets?"

"Oh, there are other more proper activities. I just don't like some of them." Allura lunged again.

Larmina blocked just in time, laughing as she stumbled back a step. "I can't imagine liking a whole lot of anything that Nanny approves of."

With her opponent seemingly in retreat, Allura pushed her advantage, pressing harder against the block in an attempt to overpower her. "If she completely had her way, I would be a plump girl, and shocked by just about anything."

Speaking of shocks… pushing back, gauging her strength, Larmina was just waiting for the point of overcommitment. Somewhere in the middle of that sentence she got there. Immediately she spun away, lightly tapping Allura on the shoulder with her staff as the princess struggled to keep her feet—and surprisingly enough, succeeded. Barely. "You're not bad," she acknowledged with a grin.

"You seem better," Allura admitted, exhaling heavily as she straightened. "The staff really is your weapon. Want to see mine?"

That's because royal sparring is no match for a real dojo. No point saying that; Auntie had acquitted herself admirably. Maybe she would teach her a few highly improper tricks later. For now, she was curious. "I'd love to."

Replacing the staff, Allura picked up an intricately carved bow and a cluster of arrows. "This is what I love the most." She opened up a control panel on the wall, activating a row of targets on the other side of the room.

Larmina raised an eyebrow. She'd done a little training in archery, of course; it was a proper noble sport. Which was why that little bit of training had been very little. She picked out a bow of her own, then grinned. "Impress me!"

Allura raised her bow, took careful aim, and fired; the arrow buried itself dead in the center of the target. Then she turned to Larmina and gave her a well-deserved raised eyebrow right back.

"…I'm impressed."

"Already?" Allura chuckled. "That was just a simple shot."

Simple, huh? "You know I'm gonna ask to see something less simple now."

"How about this?" Tapping the control panel with the end of her bow, the princess called up a square pillar between them and the targets. "Can you bounce an arrow off this and land it on, mmm… target four?"

Could she what?

When exactly this had turned into what she could do, Larmina wasn't sure, but she certainly wasn't going to back down from a challenge. That confidence lasted about until she lifted her bow and tried to visualize the shot. "…Really?"

Auntie just smiled.

Okay, really, then. Taking a deep breath, she drew the bowstring back with all her strength and sighted on the pillar. Target four looked so far away from it. Finally she lined up her best shot and fired.

The arrow struck the pillar dead on, bounced back, and smacked her lightly in the face; the fletching got caught in her hair, leaving the arrow dangling in front of her face like a willowrush branch. "That was… definitely not proper."

Somehow, Allura managed not to laugh out loud. "The strength was there… but the angle was not." Now there was an understatement. She took a few steps to the side and drew her bow, narrowing her eyes as she studied the pillar. Then she let the arrow fly. It shot forward, glanced off the pillar, and buried itself nearly dead center in target four.

Larmina's jaw dropped. How… but… "…if I teach you some staff tricks, will you teach me how to do that?"

"I would like that." Allura smiled. "But you have to promise you won't freak Nanny out too much with trick shots. I don't think she's fully recovered from when I tried to do them in the hallways…"

"You what?" The look Larmina gave her was filled with a whole new respect. "Excuse me, you what?"

Grin. "Just look carefully at the walls in this wing. You might still see some nicks."

Now it was Larmina who was just barely holding back laughter. "I wish I could've seen her face!" She bit her lip to fight down a giggle. "Okay, I promise not to shoot arrows in the hallways. …When Nanny is around."

They both lost their grip on the laughter at the same moment.