(On the Hunt) Chapter 44

Pride: On the Hunt

Chapter 44

Harm's Wake

The stolen Cor'velon was much smaller than the Bolt, and the tense silence on the bridge only seemed to make it smaller still. Sven sighed, trying to turn his attention away from the others. He wasn't sure how he was feeling, or even how he was supposed to be feeling, and he didn't intend to focus on feelings either way. He had math to do. And a navigation console to… well, attempt to use. Watching the jagged characters of Drakure pop up and disappear on his monitor as they flew nailed in how difficult this would actually be, without help.

They may have help, at least…

Lance was eyeing Daniel wanting to ask if he was holding up, but he knew the answer, so what was the point? What good would he be if he got the answer, anyway? He sure as hell wasn't. So Daniel just stared at his console, trying to will away the pain in his arm; so far he was doing the opposite. He couldn't tell if the pain was actually increasing or if that was just because he couldn't stop focusing on it. There wasn't currently anything to shoot, and the only other option for distraction was their… what was she, even? Guest? Runaway princess? Hostage? Fellow escapee? Whatever the hell she was, she was practically naked, and even Daniel knew it'd be rude to stare.

Pidge had remained on the bridge after they entered metaspace; as people started looking back to their own jobs, he turned to head back towards the engines. Fewer people he didn't want to talk to there, anyway. But before he could get away, Keith spoke up.

"Pidge, hold on." Pidge stopped walking but didn't turn around or sit. Just stood with his back to everyone. Keith shrugged at that; at least he'd stayed. They really needed to talk about their plan here. "Everyone to the bridge, please." His eyes kept moving from Romelle to his crew, and he began pacing in what little space he had, waiting for Hunk and Vince to join the rest of them.

"There's barely enough room to fit us all in here," Daniel complained. "There's definitely not enough room for you to start pacing."

"He's not wrong, boss," Lance agreed; the second opinion was enough to make Keith pause.

"I know, I just… it helps me." He tried toning it down a little. Easier said than done.

Vince reached the bridge right before Hunk. He wasn't looking forward to whatever meeting they were about to have, though he supposed it had to be done. Hunk stopped in the corridor, not even bothering to properly enter the bridge. It was more than cramped enough without him.

"Alright." Keith sighed heavily and looked over his team. What he still had of it. "We may be off Korrinoth, but we're not out of the woods yet. We need to get situated, make a plan… and adapt to new circumstances." Eyes all slid to Romelle at that; she blushed at the attention and rubbed her arms. It was already chilly on the bridge, and she was wearing next to nothing. Attention only made her feel colder and far more vulnerable.

Not that any of them were focused on her clothes, or lack thereof. They needed answers. Nobody had really slowed down enough to figure out what they actually thought of her presence; it was just that in the moment, leaving her simply hadn't been an option.

They could all agree on that much. Probably. The rest, well…

"Why is she helping us," Pidge asked flatly, finally turning around. Hunk elbowed him; the ninja hissed something extremely vulgar in Baltan at him for his trouble. You don't have that right.

Romelle shivered a bit more at his icy tone, drawing a look from Sven. The polite thing, and his first instinct, was to offer her his coat, but… what he had tied around his waist was not his coat. The thought of giving someone else Jace's jacket—seeing someone else wearing Jace's jacket—was like a gut punch. Still, she was obviously very uncomfortable in her outfit—if it could be called that. And if he couldn't ease his own mind, he could at least ease things for someone else… he wordlessly offered the jacket over to her.

Lance shot him a look, but it faded quickly. Because he could immediately envision Jace doing the same thing—though probably with a few gratuitous expletives' worth of insistence she take it.

Romelle startled at the offered clothing and accepted it gratefully. Anything to cover herself a bit. "Thank you." After pulling it on, she looked towards where Pidge was standing. He was hostile, but his question was fair. "I… I couldn't stay there." She bit her lip and pulled the jacket tighter around herself. "I fell out of favor."

Lance scowled; he had an idea of what that meant, but he didn't want to think about it at all. His sidekick, unfortunately, had a tendency to speak before his brain could catch up with his common sense.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't think we want to know." Vince's quiet warning was accompanied by Lance's signature shut up look. Daniel gave his equally often-employed what did I do? look in response.

Romelle answered his question, anyway. They may as well at least know the basics. "I was forced into a courtship against my will, and was constantly being disrespected. And then… I lost an honor duel over that disrespect." She looked down at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, and her hand paused over the wound Lotor had left.

Lance snorted. "Honor… sure, like they know what that means."

"I'm shocked," Hunk muttered under his breath, "shocked to hear that Drules aren't very good at courtship." The joke was a lot easier than thinking about what constantly disrespected might mean.

Keith didn't want to dwell on that either. "Well, I suppose we should begin by thanking you."

"For what?" she asked, puzzled.

"For helping us escape, obviously. But also… for not making us kill. In the arena."

Blushing, Romelle remembered those moments in the arena as if they'd been years ago rather than days. She had read them correctly after all. "You—you're welcome," she finally murmured. "And thank you for bringing me with you."

"We couldn't leave you there." That much was clear, though the other half that went with it was more complicated. It was still too early to fully trust her… they simply didn't know enough. But there wasn't a particularly tactful way to say so.

Sven bought him a little more time to figure it out, clearing his throat and addressing what seemed like an important bit of logistics. And manners. "I suppose now that we've escaped captivity and stolen a ship together, we should introduce ourselves." His viewpoint on cursing may have shifted—ever so slightly—due to recent events, but he'd be damned if he lost all sense of civility. "I'm Sven."

Keith glanced at him and nodded his appreciation for the initiative. "I'm Keith, the commander."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sven. Keith." Romelle couldn't recall hearing Earthling names before, and repeated them to try to commit them to memory.

"I'm Lance. Kid, introduce yourself."

Daniel eyed him. Was Lance enforcing manners now? Fuck. "I don't know how I feel about this new bossy energy of yours," he muttered, which earned him a shrug. "I'm Daniel."

"Hello, Lance and Daniel," Romelle echoed softly.

Hunk looked between Daniel and Lance and almost managed a smile. "Everyone calls me Hunk." He gave Vince a small nudge, though it hadn't really been necessary.

"Um… I'm Vince. It's nice to meet you."

"Vince, Hunk." She nodded to them too. If she had her Common slang correct, at least the name Hunk certainly seemed apt. "A pleasure."

That left one; Hunk looked at the ninja and whispered, "I'll elbow you again." Pidge started to snarl back, but cut himself off. Flynn wouldn't approve… "…Pidge," he muttered finally. That was all the relevant information; it was all the introduction she was going to get.

Romelle shivered a little at the venom in his voice. "Hello, Pidge."

"Don't mind him, he's kinda wound tight." Hunk assured her and then whispered under his breath. "Constantly."

She nodded slowly. "Considering what you all went through, it is understandable." She could hardly blame them for still being wary, anyway; that was mutual.

Lance shifted uncomfortably. Something about the way she'd said that… what they went through. It was much too nice, too… clinical.

As silence started to take hold on the bridge again, Keith decided it was time to move forward. Keeping busy was best—for their own mental states, and for their chances of actually getting through this. "Well, since we've all introduced ourselves. Princess, you were able to understand spoken Drakure. Can you read it?"

"Yes, I can."

"Good. Then you can help us decipher what instruments are what."

"That would be great," Vince agreed. Knowing what was what down in the engines would be very helpful; he'd been about ready to start pulling panels off to see how they were wired in hopes of figuring out what they did.

"Yes, that would be wonderful." Sven eyed the console in front of him. As much as he complained—and rightly so—about computer-created routes, doing unpathed routing entirely by hand would take an obscenely long time. And the jumpgate network was still completely out if he couldn't read the maps.

They needed the jumpgates, and Keith knew it too. "So, priorities. I think the top two would be navigation and in the engine bay."

"Can we trust her to do that?" Pidge asked quietly, but not too quietly; Romelle blushed and looked at the floor. Hunk shot him a warning look that was roundly ignored, and Lance grimaced. Awkward.

"Don't have much of a choice do we, Pidge?" Sven wasn't a fan of their limited options either, but it was what it was. The team needed a route, and they needed it soon. And he, frankly, needed math.

"She's helped so far," Vince agreed.

"So did Bokar," Pidge retorted.

"Bokar was an ass," Lance said immediately. "She's… well she's not making the hair on the back of my neck stand up, whatever that means." He hoped that that made sense; he'd been right about Bokar, that had to count for something. Eyeing Daniel, he saw the kid's mouth open and shut, and then a proud smile flickered briefly over his lips before he fought it down. Proud, because he'd realized all the reasons not to say Bokar was prettier, and actually managed not to say it.

Keith held up a hand for silence. He was okay with the ninja playing devil's advocate here, as long as it didn't get carried away, but the others weren't wrong about either Romelle or their situation in general. "Your concern is valid, Pidge. But we don't have a choice, and this is what we're going to do."

Rather less diplomatically, Hunk reached over and slapped a hand over the ninja's mouth.

It was Romelle who actually defused the matter, though, turning to address Pidge in the most confident voice she could gather. "I understand. You have no reason to trust me, nor I you."

Shoving Hunk's hand aside, Pidge nodded in acceptance. The second part of that sentence had earned her a little bit of respect. It would have to be enough.

"That is true." Keith agreed.

"But you have to understand. None of us could stay there—"

"Hell yeah we couldn't." Hunk agreed.

"But we didn't get out soon enough," Lance said under his breath.

"—I needed to find a way out. The dishonor was too much. But you… you have no idea what they would have done to you." Her firm voice was starting to waver slightly as it all sank in. How close they'd all been to their fates. Hers a prison, and theirs…

Oh no, don't start crying. Daniel's ability to react correctly to people crying was extremely minimal.

"It could get worse?" Vince asked.

Sven was afraid to ask, yet the question somehow came out anyway. "What would they have done?"

"…Really, bro?" Hunk muttered; he just shrugged.

Couldn't have been worse than… Lance swallowed, he didn't want to think about that, it was still too hard to deal with right now. Instead he found himself looking at Daniel. At least he's alive.

Romelle shook her head and regained her composure. "You were too dangerous to be left alive. You must realize that. After the feast, you were meant to be sacrificed… either that, or granted the 'honor' of becoming one of those beasts."

"What the fuck?!"

"And that's gonna be a holy fuckin' fuzzmuffins from me."

"How gracious of them…"

"Ow!" The startled reactions were cut off by Daniel's yell of pain; he'd been investigating a beep on his console when Romelle was speaking. But hearing that they were possibly meant to be turned into robeast had required a dramatic and fast whip around to gawk at her. Which had resulted in his arm smashing against his console. Which hurt.

"Whoa, kid be careful." Lance hurried over to him, checking out his arm the best he could. "This place have pain meds?"

Romelle looked around the bridge and found a compartment marked as medical; a fairly standard medkit was inside. Checking through the supplies, she pulled out the painkillers and handed them to Lance.

"Shit-fuck! Why do people always say ‘be careful' after you've—"

"You're very lucky to have your brother here looking out for you, Daniel." Romelle said softly, looking between him and Lance and closing her eyes for a moment. She missed her own brothers.

"—What?" Her words made Lance pause, staring at Daniel, images flashing though his mind that weren't Daniel at all. Drew… shit… he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. "Uh. Thanks." He took the pain killers and shoved them into Daniel's good hand, trying to shake himself free.

It's fucking true, isn't it?

Hunk had started to snicker, but cut it off at Lance's expression. He was probably the only person on this bridge—well, kind of on this bridge—who had a real idea what had just happened, and he caught their pilot's eye to offer a sympathetic nod.

"Yeah, thanks," Daniel said in Lance and Romelle's general direction. He hadn't really caught Lance's reaction; he was still mulling over the word brother himself. He'd never had any siblings, but it felt like it fit. It definitely felt more right than mentor ever had.

"Did I say something wrong?" Romelle had noticed Lance's expression, and immediately Daniel looked to him as well, just in time to catch him forcing the reaction down. Had she said something wrong? He didn't know how he'd feel if Lance said yes… but thankfully, he just shook his head.

"Excuse me, Princess." Sven interrupted, indicating his monitors. "Would you mind translating these markers here?" It seemed like a change of subject would probably be best right now. Nodding a little too eagerly, Romelle moved towards him and began to explain the monitors as best she could.

Lance watched as Daniel took the painkillers, and managed a smile. "Be more careful, alright?"

"I'm always careful." The kid smirked.

"And now I'm more worried!"

"That's your constant state."

"Is not…" Lance protested, and Daniel just laughed.

Pidge snorted; he was ready for this to be over with. "Sir, are we finished? I have consoles to watch."

"You can't even read 'em," Hunk pointed out.

Vince nodded. "We'll need to ask the princess to translate once she finishes with Sven."

Scowling, Pidge turned and walked off without waiting for permission; he'd had enough of all of these people. Hunk and Vince simultaneously sighed.

Keith watched him go, then gave Hunk a grim nod. "I'll send her back to the bay once she finishes translating up here. Hunk… you're going to have your hands full. We all will. If you need anything…"

"…I know, boss. I can handle it" Hunk sighed again. "I think I can handle it." It wasn't only the ninja he was talking about. Him in charge of engineering, at all? Really. It was still too ridiculous to feel real. "If I can't, you'll be the first to know, promise."

"All right, I'm holding you to that. Dismissed."

Sven had done his best to keep Romelle occupied with questions during the ninja drama. And it had been quite productive; there were some technical terms she didn't know, but between the two of them they had been able to figure things out with context. She was already uncomfortable, no need to make it worse. Though if she were going to be with them for any length of time, maybe it was better for her to get accustomed to ninja drama. It was frequent enough. Along with pilot-and-gunner drama, which also occurred quite frequently. One of their team members also had bouts of magical sparking, which was always pretty dramatic. Not to mention the standard-issue Explorer Team drama that happened on a nearly daily basis…

This poor woman.

"I think that covers everything." He offered an encouraging smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said softly, fumbling a moment for his name. "Sven."

"Hey, Princess?" Lance waved for her attention before she could lapse back into her own thoughts "I've got a pretty good idea what's going on with my console here, but could you come clarify some things for me?"

"Of course." Leaving Sven's station, she moved to the helm and took a breath. Everything had changed… one thing remained.

Be strong.

*****

By the time Romelle went back to the engine bay, Sven had devised a route. And more than a route, a plan. "Alright, think I have it."

Immediately he had everyone's eager attention. He was the only person on the bridge who'd been keeping his focus somewhere at all healthy; Lance was doing his damnedest to think about anything but Flynn, which wasn't working. A distraction would be wonderful. Daniel was more or less managing not to think at all because the painkillers were making him a bit foggy, but having something to potentially snark at would help even more.

Though it was hard to snark at escape plans… but it was hella better than dwelling on the amount of blood staining his hoodie, most of which wasn't his, most of which had in fact been Jace's, and it was drying out and crusty and gross and could they please just start talking about the jumpgates already…

"Okay, Sven." Keith crossed his arms and struggled not to pace. "What are we looking at?"

"Here's where we're inbound to." He brought up a map and pointed to a planet whose name he couldn't actually read, but he knew how to pronounce the letters from Romelle. "Torose. It's a second-level jumpgate hub. Five destinations. One of them is Va'lemos, a border world near Alliance space. One is Acroth, a border world near the Seventh Kingdom. The other three go deeper into the Ninth."

"Well those don't help us."

"What, we're not taking the whole guided tour around this hellhole kingdom?"

Ignoring them, Sven nodded to Keith, who was frowning at the map. "The jumpgate architecture will log our passing, so even if we don't run into any forces at the entrance, they'll know we were here very quickly."

"And we have to assume they have this ship's identification broadcasting all over the kingdom."

"Yes." The navigator got a small, grim smirk. "However, they'll have no way of knowing which path we took until we exit. That's why Torose. They'll see their Alliance fugitives entered here…"

"…And they'll line up everything in the area to vaporize us the moment we come out at Va'lemos," Lance completed, starting to see where this was going.

"Exactly. While we take the gate to Acroth and slip into the Seventh Kingdom before they know what's happened." It wouldn't exactly be an escape to safety, but it would be much better than staying in the Ninth for a second longer than necessary… or getting vaporized at the Alliance border.

"Okay. Get us set up for it, then."

"Yes sir."

As they were planning things out, Romelle had been helping to translate the screens in the engine bay. She found the bay terribly uncomfortable, filled with heat and an ambient red glow that bathed the whole space… still she clutched the jacket Sven had given her closer. She'd rather be hot than feel so exposed. Especially if Pidge was going to keep being so surly around her.

The other two were being nice, at least. "Thank you, Princess," Vince said with a warm smile as she finished going over one of the engine panels. He'd thanked her already. A few times. It just felt like it ought to be repeated, given the reception she was getting from their ninja.

"You're welcome, Vince." She smiled back, then trailed off for a moment. Princess. It sounded like a joke here. Princess of what? A kingdom she was fleeing, a planet she had no idea when she'd be able to return to? On this ship she was just a translator. Being called princess only reminded her of everything she'd just left behind. "And… you can call me Romelle."

Vince nodded, feeling heat creep over his ears and the back of his neck. He'd never met an actual princess before.

Nor had Hunk, though it wasn't stopping him from being himself. "Yeah, thanks for the help." He flashed her a broad grin and a thumbs-up before turning back to his own newly-translated console… and shooting Pidge another brief shape up look. As best he was capable, anyway. Flynn would have been able to get the ninja to knock it off, but Hunk's ninja-wrangling skills were… well… okay, they just weren't.

Pidge was not actually even intentionally glaring at Romelle right now. He was just glaring. Because he, too, was thinking about Flynn, and how that idiot had died for him instead of watching his own damn back like Pidge had told him to…

"Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"You've helped us out a lot…" Vince looked around the dimness of the engine bay, trying to find anything they might have missed. "If anything beeps angrily we'll let you know?"

"I think we're good right now," Hunk agreed, eyeing her. It didn't take much to catch her discomfort. "If you wanna get out of here for now go ahead. I mean, I know the rest of this ship's no picnic either but engine bays are especially not-comfy."

"Thank you…" She hesitated. Hunk had been called up to get her when she'd finished on the bridge, but he wasn't moving. "Um, do I… need an escort?"

Pidge snorted. "Pretty sure the critical stations are all covered."

"Oh." She tried to just nod. "I… I suppose you're right."

Sighing, Hunk shot Pidge another useless chill out look. "Don't mind him." It was probably the dozenth time he'd said that.

"I'm sure it is justified," she said quietly, and Vince made a face; he wasn't. Pidge shot her an even more blistering glare—he had not asked for and didn't need her approval—before turning back to his console. The one she'd translated for him. The one he'd probably have to call her back to if anything went wrong. This was not optimal.

As Romelle turned to go, Hunk took note of a few readings and turned to bellow down the main corridor. "Yo! Bridgies! We got a plan yet? You said we were huntin' a jumpgate!"

She winced at the yell and turned back around, confused. She'd absolutely read off the label for a jumpgate lock light. And it was absolutely blinking. "That flashing light there means they've set a course," she explained softly, only to get three very confused looks—even Pidge suddenly looked more lost than angry.

"Uh… wait. I know you said there's a jumpgate indicator, but… what flashing light?" Hunk turned to the panel she was pointing at and shook his head slightly. Nothing appeared to be flashing.

"This red one… can you not see it?" Romelle approached and touched the indicator.

"I mean, I see a light bulb thing, but it ain't lit up? Sure ain't blinking…" Hunk looked at the other two. Pidge had gotten his scowl back, while Vince just looked more confused than ever.

Odd. "It's a bit difficult to see beneath the engine lights, but—"

"Engine lights?" Vince repeated, and she felt herself getting even more off balance.

"Is that not what they're called?" Spacecraft were hardly her specialty. "That glow from the engine shafts…" Blank looks, again. "Are you… are you saying you can't see it? That red light all through…?"

"…Wait. Red again?" Vince looked from the engine shafts to the console and back to her. "It's all red?"

"Yes…"

"Infrared." His eyes lit up, then he seemed to forcibly fight it down. Just as well—she couldn't quite help but shy back from that much focus. "You can see infrared! That's… totally cool."

"Of course she can," Pidge snorted; Vince glared and wished he had some idea of what to say that wouldn't end with a knife in his face. Metaphorically or literally.

Hunk shook his head. "Ninja, shush. That's awesome, dude. Uh, dudette… dude-ess? Anyway, that's awesome!"

At least it seemed to be making them happy, Romelle supposed, though she was still a bit lost. "What is… infrared?"

"It's light outside the visible spectrum. Which is different for different races but there's a pretty consistent baseline. Looks like you're outside that baseline. It's totally cool, promise." Vince was surprised at how quickly he was speaking, but it felt important to get across that this was something awesome and not something that deserved a ninja glare. Way better than sparks, too.

Blushing, Romelle was about to turn away again when another light blinked. This one the others could clearly see too, because they all suddenly became much more businesslike.

It was just as well Romelle could see infrared, because Sven had been too distracted by math to hear Hunk's question, let alone answer it. Drule unpathed travel was tricky; unlike leaving hyperspace, where you just had to be sure your destination was clear, leaving metaspace required actual calculations.

He did like calculations.

The stolen Cor'velon slipped back into real space without fanfare. Keith was at the second gunnery console again, having gotten some quick instruction on how to actually use it, and frowned as the target radar began painting contacts. "Okay. I'm showing two stationary contacts out there, must be the gate and the station."

They could see the jumpgate in the distance—an enormous pulsing swirl of spacetime, as if someone had grasped the fabric of the void and simply ripped it open. Threads of energy bled out around it. Beneath it was a metallic disc-like structure, dotted with turrets, and beneath that the lights of the control station.

"Yeah, that's a gate," Lance confirmed unnecessarily, then glanced down at his own radar—the Cor'velon had a small readout at each station, which was nice. What it was displaying between them and the gate was not so nice. "And… that's a carrier."

Why do we always find the fucking carriers?

"Fuck."

"Agreed."

"Fucking agree with the fuck."

Keith started to say something but was interrupted by a beep from the communications console; he crossed over to have a look. "We're getting some kind of automated incoming transmission. Gate information?"

"Looks like." Numbers were scrolling across Lance's screen, and glancing over at Sven's he saw the same thing.

"Monitoring a data channel from the gate, yes," Pidge reported, grumbling something highly uncomplimentary in Baltan. Even knowing what they said, these Drule user interfaces were horribly illogical. He could see data flowing into the ship, but not what any of that data was—like some weird spatial display devoid of all context. It was ridiculous.

Romelle had just made it back to the bridge when the comms crackled, and a rather conversational bit of Drakure came across the speakers. Looking back at her, Keith stepped away from the communications console and nodded. "Could use some help, Princess."

Watching her take the comms, Daniel felt a wrenching in his guts and decided to turn back to his own station. He didn't want to think about how that was Cam's spot, any more than he wanted to think about the blood he was wearing.

"They're asking us to identify ourselves," Romelle translated quietly; Lance snorted.

"How do we say fuck you?"

"How about go die?" Daniel suggested.

"So they don't know it's us yet." Keith's eyes narrowed as the carrier started moving towards them. "But it won't be long. We need through that gate. Move it, Lance."

Nodding, their pilot pushed the Cor'velon forward. "Gonna be tricky when things heat up. We need a dead stop to enter the gate."

"Uh." Hunk spoke up for the first time; he hadn't felt qualified to add much to the discussion so far. This he was qualified for. "Phrasing, bro?"

Privately, Sven agreed with Hunk, though there was no point in saying it out loud right now. "Anyone have any suggestions on how to actually do this?"

"Take as many of them down as we can?" Lance was trying to guide them in a shallow arc around the carrier as the comms crackled again; the voice was less conversational this time.

"They're saying they won't ask again," Romelle said as Keith turned to her.

Wonderful. "We can't engage. Not with a Drule carrier. No chance we'd survive." The Cor'velon was closer to the Firecrown than the Bolt, and to be sure, the Firecrown had survived a couple of carrier encounters. But those had been against obsolete Alliance ships, not active duty Drule vessels… and they'd actually known how to use the ship they were flying.

"Well we can't just sit around and let them kill us, either."

"This ship can't hold out long against fighters," Pidge reported calmly, "never mind the carrier itself getting involved."

Hunk glanced over at him. "Can we get the shields up?"

"Drule ships don't have shields," the ninja answered flatly.

Oh. "So… no, then."

Alarms started to scream through the ship. Weapons locks, and the carrier ahead of them launching fighters. Whether it had identified them or simply grown tired of waiting for an answer, they were out of time.

Without even waiting for an order, Daniel opened up with everything his console had. Why had they even been discussing this, anyway? Of course they had to shoot. Of course they had to fight. Of course they had to kill as many of these blue bastards as they possibly could.

Keith didn't bother to scold him. "Up to you and me, Daniel." He returned to the second gunnery station as Romelle strapped herself in at the comms. "Fancy flying, Lance."

Snort. "Like you really have to tell me." He'd already pushed the sleek Cor'velon into a rapid burst of acceleration, charging straight at the oncoming fighters and forcing several to scatter. "I'll outfly them, you just take down as many as you can, kid."

He hadn't bothered to give that same instruction to Keith, because he already knew what Keith was going to say. He was not disproven. "No. Just keep them at bay long enough for us to get through. We can't get into a pitched battle."

Smirking angrily, Daniel spared a couple of lasers on the carrier itself as he took down a fleeing fighter. "That's the plan, Lance." He ignored Keith's nonsense. He could kill Drules if he wanted to kill Drules.

Though the first wave of fighters had scattered, the next flights were showing a lot more discipline about putting themselves between the Cor'velon and the jumpgate and staying there. Ramming really wasn't an option; the enemy could give a whole lot more than they had. Lance did his best to weave and dart through gaps; Keith was focusing his fire on trying to clear a path, with limited success. Daniel was just shooting whichever target was handy.

As the ship rocked from a couple of impacts, Hunk turned to Pidge with a grimace. "Do we have point defense, at least?"

"Oh we have that." He'd brought that screen up, even, and was waiting for it to do something useful. Anything useful. The problem was, Drule design philosophy didn't like missiles nearly as much as the Alliance. "Won't stop their lasers, but we have it."

"Great. Beats nothin', probably." Vince nodded in agreement, though he wasn't sure either of them were convinced.

Punching a hole through one fighter screen, Keith flinched as return fire rocked the bridge. "Move it, Lance."

"I'm fucking moving it!" Bringing them into a roll he privately referred to as fancy flying maneuver thirteen, he shot between the burning hulks of two fighters. Shooting them down didn't always actually get them out of the way.

It would be better, in Keith's opinion, if they had more firepower aimed at the ones they actually needed gone. "Daniel, focus! We need to clear a path, not just engage whatever the hell!"

Biting down the reflexive fuck off, Daniel just kept shooting at whatever got close. "He supposed to just wave at the rest of them?" Lance asked when the kid said nothing, wrenching them halfway out of the carrier's firing line.

"Sir, if we just let them swarm us we die." Pidge was trying to find something in the systems console that would help, but he couldn't even sort out how to manually activate the point defenses as a distraction.

Growling in frustration but acknowledging their points, Keith channeled his energy into offense instead. The Cor'velon's heavy lasers reduced a pair of fighters to slag, molten metal splattering their hull as they shot through the gap.

"We're close." The jumpgate was filling their viewscreen, and Lance aimed for the heart of the swirling mass. He'd never actually flown into one, but getting as deep as possible seemed safer than trying to stop on the edges. "Fire on whichever of the fuckers look at us funny once we're in, there is no way they won't try to blow us up when we decelerate."

"No problem," Daniel smirked, though it was actually turning into something of a problem. His aim was sluggish, and he was missing more often than he was hitting… the painkillers may have done their job, his arm didn't hurt anymore, but fuck he was foggy.

"Can we destroy the station behind us?" Lance's eyes narrowed as they entered the gate area. "Take more of these bastards out?"

"That probably isn't viable," Sven said quietly. His main job in these situations was pretty much to do nothing; he kind of had a love/hate relationship with that fact. But he was probably the person here who best knew how heavily fortified a jumpgate station was. Studies on what happened to ships within a gate if one side of the gate collapsed were also, well… limited.

"We can at least try—"

"—Uh, my dudes—and lady dude—I can't totally tell what this alarm back here is sayin' but I'm pretty sure we've got a hole!"

Scrambling to bring up some readout that would give them better information, Pidge found the hull integrity map and breathed a sigh of relief. "Primary armor breach. Secondary layer minor breach. Inner hull is holding."

"Oh, all the fuzzmuffins," Vince whispered, swallowing hard.

Lance gritted his teeth, tracking the strongest area of energy within the jumpgate. He couldn't really pull evasive maneuvers like this, but he was trying. "Hold on a bit longer, guys. Take them out."

"We need to get out of here," Keith growled, swatting down a fighter with the Cor'velon's chain cannon. Two lasers splashed over their hull in response; it wasn't a fair trade. "Just slow us down."

"We're not finished!" Wrenching them into a tight turn, Lance managed to evade a couple of shots from the carrier; one of them hit a fighter and ripped it in half. "We're not fucking done with them!"

Keith's eyes narrowed. He understood. He really did. But…

We do what we have to do.

"We will not die here out of spite, Lance." They hadn't escaped Korrinoth just to go down in a blaze of rage. They couldn't have. "We won't waste their lives! Go NOW!"

Eyes widening, Lance slammed the ship into full reverse. The engines shrieked as sapphire plasma shot through the forward channels, arresting the Cor'velon's considerable momentum and leaving them, for a split second, a sitting duck in the center of the jumpgate.

As a dozen lasers converged on the stationary ship, a new alarm howled. Not a damage notification. The jumpgate lock light went a solid, brilliant red, though nobody in the engine bay could see it.

With a sharp yank, the ship vanished into metaspace.

*****

Lotor had been summoned to the throne room. Not invited, as was typical, as was his right and often responsibility as Crown Prince. Summoned. Like a servant. Worse, like a slave. Occasionally he did feel like a slave to this diplomatic nonsense, but his father was… less than sympathetic to such complaints.

There was no question what complaints he would have inflicted on him today…

In the chaos that had filled the castle as the gladiators had escaped, he'd quite lost track of his a'kuri. It had barely even crossed his mind that he'd sent her to bathe them until much later, when two of the guards reported she'd passed them by with the gladiators as her 'escort'. And then it had all made sense.

By Kistrial, what a mess.

Stepping into the throne room he found it hadn't even been cleared. King Zarkon was sitting in his throne with his usual favored servants at his side, sipping from a goblet, golden eyes narrowing slightly at his son's arrival. He didn't speak; that, according to throne room protocol, would have been a grave insult. The liege was meant to be addressed, not to open the conversation.

At least he was still granted that little bit of respect, Lotor supposed. "You required my presence, Father?"

"Ah, yes. I certainly did." Zarkon glowered. "There are a great many things I have required of you lately, it's good to see you actually fulfill one."

"You summoned me here for this? You could lecture me anywhere."

His father gave a long, exasperated sigh. "Lotor, you are my son—may I be forgiven—and one day you will be King, may the gods help our empire." He took a long drink of his wine that was, in Lotor's opinion, more theatrical than it had needed to be. "I gave you a simple task. Court the princess of an obscure backwater world desperate to appease us. Explain to me precisely how you managed to fail at this!"

"Me?" Lotor protested. "Why don't you ask the guards who were bringing her and the Earthlings to the feast?"

"Because they are dead, or nearly thus," Zarkon retorted, throwing the goblet at him; he jumped back, watching the blood wine vanish into the thick red carpet. "Ah, at least you still have your reflexes, if not your wits. Why weren't you accompanying her? Arriving alone was a breach of protocol, and even you know it."

Kicking the goblet away was also a breach of protocol—then again, no more so than throwing it had been. Lotor watched it skitter along the floor. "She forfeited her honor, Father!"

"…What."

"She challenged me to a duel!" He looked up and scowled. "Invoking the name of Kistrial! What was I to do?"

Zarkon stared at him silently, motioning for one of the servants to bring him more wine. Lotor tensed, half expecting him to throw this one too. But his father drank the entire thing in one long swallow, then slammed the empty goblet down on the arm of his throne. "You explain to your valued consort what our customs are, why invoking the goddess of honor is a bad idea, and you refuse."

"And what of my honor?"

"Your destined Prime Consort just abandoned the kingdom on the arm of Earthling slaves! What honor do you think you've retained, exactly?"

Recoiling as though he'd been slapped, Lotor struggled for a counter argument. It wasn't coming easily. "…I will recover her, Father—"

"—You will do as you're told, and right now that will have nothing to do with her whatsoever. I have other warriors searching for the gladiators. Competent warriors." Zarkon leaned back in the throne and crossed his arms. "Your punishment will be dealing with the diplomatic fallout with Pollux."

…Oh. Wonderful. Sighing, he bowed his head and glared at the discarded goblet. Arguing further would accomplish nothing, and he knew it. "Yes, Father."

*****

Retaking the castle had resulted in a lot of new duties; it hadn't changed any of the old ones. The refugees still needed food… what little the Drules had brought in with them was of high quality, if questionable substance. But there wasn't much of it. They'd been giving it to the injured.

Among the injured was still Hanso, and Larmina would very much have liked him to be a little less injured. A lot less injured. She wasn't very good at worrying about people, and was throwing herself into other duties to stop thinking about how the last person she'd worried about during this invasion had died…

Hunting would take her mind off it. Hopefully. So she was out in the forest, the black and white banewolves by her sides, wondering if they were going to bring her to another deer or something that she wouldn't be able to drag back to the castle. That could be fun.

Very little was out in the forest today, though… maybe it was the incoming rain. She could smell the storm on the wind and had been hoping to at least find something useful to bring back before it got here. Maybe it was just this part of the forest. She didn't recognize it; she'd kind of just been following the banewolves, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever gone this deep into the forest before. Sprouts were peeking out of the ground, tiny dazzling flowers that glittered like gems in the filtered light, a roar that must have been the river in the distance…

And a growl. That growl.

"That's…" She looked at her companions, both of whom had drawn up to sharp attention. "Do you two hear that?"

The white one yipped, and the black one snuffled softly, pushing her forward.

Did she want to go forward?

"…Okay, I'll trust you," she whispered, moving ahead. The growl came again, feeling stronger, resonating within her chest… she didn't like it, yet she didn't want it to leave her. "Any chance you can tell me… um… I know you can't. Maybe a little hint, at least?"

Neither responded, but something appeared from the shadows ahead of them. A third, gray banewolf—it might have been the one that had helped retake the castle. It had the same markings. But before she could even ask, its presence drew her attention to something else.

What the…?

There was a mass of darkness in the distance. Something physical, something huge. Her first instinct was that it must be a cliff or a mountain, but looking up, the forest didn't seem to rise. Confused, but trusting the banewolves, she tried to move closer…

Searing heat shot through her cheeks, radiating through her skull and down her spine. She cried out and stumbled, as much from surprise as pain; the black banewolf yipped worriedly, turning back to her.

"It's okay," she reassured it through gritted teeth. "Sorry, just… startled a moment." Shaking it off, she moved forward again. The wolves moved closer, almost protectively, as a soft wind picked up.

"Daughter of the Forest…"

Larmina froze. The voice was a distant echo of a whisper, hidden somewhere deep within the winds. Had she imagined it? She couldn't have.

"Who's there?" she whispered, tensing and stepping forward again.

"Daughter of the Forest…"

New pain erupted. She staggered back with a scream, blinded by golden flashes across her vision, feeling like her face and chest were being torn at by knives. The banewolves were yipping and howling in concern, and she felt strong fangs sinking into her shoulder, piercing the skin but at least yanking her back from whatever in the five hells had just happened…

She wasn't sure how long it took for the pain to fade. But she came back to her full senses on the outskirts of the forest, with the gray banewolf licking her punctured shoulder.

"What was that?" she demanded, drawing a couple of startled yips. "What the hells just—attacked me?"

The white banewolf padded in front of her and whined softly, and she heard it again. The growl they'd been following, the whisper on the winds, seeming to have combined into one.

"We are not… yet… ready."

"…Ready for what?" she whispered despite herself, staring into the trees. But there was no answer.