At least I thought we’d be heading to battle. What we actually do is fly southeast from the main force and slowly move through and around blocks of the city. Apparently, our instructions are, as the dwarf in charge said, a simple patrol route to spot individual targets and potential undirected breakout points. I’ll admit, looking out the open door from fifty meters high kind of freaks me out. I have been working hard with Peggie to handle my fear of falling, but this along with all the other suspicions and tension of the moment is making it more of a struggle to push past my fears.

Mostly I see humans being directed into buildings and towards defensive areas setup throughout the city. They are small this far from the expected combat locations but it would at least help some. Most have been moved from the open streets by alerts, city, or UFH personnel. Beyond the occasional hustling humanoid, we find little of interest and certainly no insects covered in black flame.

“Aria, this is Omamba,” rings out of my earpiece.

Placing my fingers to my ear I say quietly, “Go. Not secure."

Not long after I was first given this earpiece, Vic taught me how to communicate in public vs. private conditions.

Omamba’s familiar robust voice responds, “I need guidance on how to address Vic’s situation. I can’t keep them out much longer.”

I let out an angry breath and whisper with my other hand in front of my mouth, “There’s nothing we can do?”

“I’m sorry, dear. My hands are tied legally because the city leader ordered a Martial Assembly and nobody is exempt from that. Especially not a veteran like Vic. Technically at least.”

“Technically?”

“Bribes and such happen of course. Strings are pulled, favors called. That sort of thing. None of that’s legal, but it obviously happens.”

Knowing that Vic is really not a fan of the whole ‘bribe your way out of things’ approach, I decide to go with what I think would be his more likely solution. I threaten them. Still whispering behind my hand, I instruct Omamba, “Tell them if they enter our suite and put Vic at risk by disturbing his level-up sleep, we will not only sue the individuals and city, V.I. will take one hundred percent of our employees, investments, construction projects, etcetera and tax revenue out of the city and find a more understanding and willing partner city. Have Katarina prepare the documents so they know we mean business. At the same time, let Gunny know he is free to call in favors or do whatever it takes to get them to leave Vic alone. He absolutely is not to be disturbed. Under any circumstances, Omamba. Have Gretchen place guards outside the suite entrance and prevent anyone by me from going in. They are not to enter either by the way.”

“This patroil borin ya, princess?" The dwarf across from me has a snide smile on his face. “Ya too fancy fir real work?”

Omamba’s voice sounds in my ear as well. “Katarina and I’ll do what I can from my end legally and leave the rest for Gunny and Gretchen. Stay safe, dear.”

Returning my hands to my lap I glare at the dwarf and say out loud, “No. It’s just that the company is so miserable, I was having a conversation with someone more pleasant.”

I hear a snort from Sam’s side of the flyer and the nasty grin leaves the dwarf’s face. He opens his mouth to speak but another voice rings in all of our ears. This one is female but clearly dwarven as well.

“Potential target group spotted in patrol route 13-1. That’s you Bulvo. Coordinates sent. Confirm.”

The dwarf flashes another glare that I ignore by continuing to look out the open side door. In the face of Vic’s situation and the annoying dwarf’s unreasonable action, the height doesn’t seem so intimidating.

Putting his thick fingers to his ear while glancing at the pad in his other hand, Bulvo growls, “Confirmed, HQ. On our way."

He removes his fingers from his year and taps the pad. I hear another male dwarven voice speak. “Coordinates received."

Then the flyer tilts to my right and we turn then straighten and speed towards this potential target group.

The dwarf’s glare turns back into a sneer when he speaks again. “Ya and dis human be da ranged combat units. Go to da door and be ready.”

Sam speaks up angrily and asks, “What about restraints? I’m not risking falling out of this thing no matter what the fuck you say." His attitude isn’t aimed at me this time at least. And, frankly, I had the same thought.

The dwarf stomps his feet and stands up. “Ya do what I say or ya be arrested.”

Sam doesn’t seem to agree when he says, “Fuck you, asshole. You don’t have the right to order me to put myself at risk that way.”

While they argue back and forth I look around the flyer and see a small loop attachment near the door on my side which has a label below it in Common stating it is a “Cargo Strap Attachment.”

This is going to suck. I so hate heights. Closing my eyes, I take a deep slow breath and touch my mag-restraint release. A glance at Sam and Bulvo tells me they are close to coming to blows. Sam’s hand is on the butt of his sidearm projector and the dwarf is pointing at the human glowing very slightly red. They are both panting, likely from their increasingly passionate shouting match.

I slowly stand, tap my ring, withdraw a thin but strong rope made from some kind of beast tendon, and, leaning one hand on the wall of the flyer for balance and comfort, step towards the cargo strap loop. The human and dwarf turn their heads to me as I carefully wrap the rope through the strap and then tie it around my waist, groin and chest the way Vic taught me when he showed me how to fly Hijack. Hopefully, I’m leaving enough slack to shoot out the door while either standing, kneeling, or lying down. I know the knots and wrapping are terrible imitations of his, but we only practiced a few times and it is certainly better than being unattached and falling to my death.

Sitting in the seat by the open door, I tap my ring again and another rope appears. I hold it out to Sam with a small smile and say, “You have a Cargo Strap Attachment on your side too.”

Sam’s face changes from anger to surprise to confusion and back to anger as he grabs the rope and proceeds to sloppily tie himself to the flyer. From what I can see, it should stop him from dumping out so I don’t offer to assist. Not that I believe he would welcome the help.

The glaring dwarf gives a loud harrumph, turns around, stomps the two steps back to his seat, and sits down forcefully. Sam is still glaring at me but I turn back to the open door, scanning for targets or the supposed group we have been directed towards.