“... I’m tellin’ ya, we do like we did back durin’ the Clan Wars,” Maggie argued. “Worked then, it’ll work now.”

Priestess Ntombi considered that for a moment, before turning to the third member of their group. “What do you think?” she asked.

“Something like that takes time,” Blye countered, “and time is something that’s in short supply. We need something we can implement immediately. A… Hail Mary, if you will,” she said, struggling to summon up the precise phrase.

“... Like say, a Protean shapeshifter with access to Precursor knowledge?” a voice suggested behind them. The trio turned in shock, only to spot a gray-skinned elf staring back at them from the monitor.

“Ess Peon, I presume,” Blye said dryly, unable to actually see the image herself.

“Yup, that’s her all right,” Maggie agreed. “And Samara’s dead. I done told you that already.”

“According to what I’ve uncovered, that doesn’t appear to be the case,” Ess disagreed, “though, given what’s happened to her, she might as well be.”

“What happened?” Sariah inquired.

“It seems they used a Precursor weapon against her,” the Avatar explained. “Unlike most weapons, however, this one doesn’t kill its victim. Instead, it freezes them in time. The Valkyries call it a ‘Stasis gun’.”

“Stasis units been around for centuries,” Maggie scoffed. “Ain’t nothin’ new.”

“Not like this, it seems,” Ess informed them. “It’s quite advanced, which is to be expected, of course. So, the good news is that she’s still alive, and can be revived.”

“And the bad news?” Blye insisted.

“Ah.” The image on the screen grimaced. “The bad news is that both she and the device are currently being held inside a Valkyrie arms depot, under heavy guard.”

“I take it we’d need the device to unfreeze her?” Priestess Ntombi asked.

“That’s my understanding,” Ess agreed.

Blye chewed on that for a moment and then turned to her mentor. “Can we do it?” she pressed her. “Do you have the contacts to get us in there?”

“You’re talking about throwing together a major operation with almost no warning,” the Priestess said carefully, “not to mention putting others at risk. I won’t be rushed into something without taking the time to thoroughly prepare for it.”

“We can’t just keep sittin’ around spinnin’ our damn wheels,” Maggie growled. “Time to get off the damn pot and get somethin’ done.”

“And if we attack before we’re ready, we end up dead or sharing a cell with Diggs,” Blye countered. “Tell me how that helps any of us.”

“I’m done waitin’!” the Tinker barked, jumping to her feet. “My boy’s in trouble, and I’m gettin’ him out, with or without you.” She turned to the monitor. “Can you show me where they’re holdin’ her?”

“I can guide you there,” Ess nodded. “Maybe even help with the alarms.”

“Maggie, this is crazy,” Blye cautioned. “You go off half-cocked like this, you’re liable to get yourself killed.”

“Then come with me,” she urged. “You and me got a better chance together than me doin’ this solo.”

“You can’t ask her to do this,” Sariah said, aghast. “She’s blind.”

Blye froze and then turned to face the priestess. “I. Am. Not. A. Cripple,” she snapped. “I took down an Aggaaddub commander blind, even after he’d beaten me senseless,” the Knight growled, “and I am just as good as I ever was.” Having vented her spleen, she turned to the Tinker. “All right, Maggie, since you’re determined to do this, count me in.”

She looked frantically at the pair, praying for a sudden change of heart, before bowing to the inevitable. “Since it’s obvious that I can’t prevent you from carrying out this madness, then allow me to render what help I can,” she sighed in defeat. “Can we, at the very least, look over the information Ess uncovered and come up with some sort of strategy?”

Maggie considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. “Can’t hurt,” she said finally.

“The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be,” Blye agreed.

“I still think this is insane, but… Ess, please show us what you have,” Sariah said quietly.

The image on the monitor split, as a map appeared beside the Avatar’s image. “So, the depot is located here…” she began, as the others moved in for a closer look.

Paygan Kuosha Xeing entered the Imperial chamber and approached the throne, prior to taking a knee and abasing himself before his monarch. “I have come at your royal decree, Your Majesty,” he said formally, “and await your command.”

“Rise, cousin,” the Ixian emperor Yuubazh the Munificent said amiably, “and join me in my chambers.” Obeying his wishes the Paygan rose and followed, the pair both taking a seat in a private sitting room.

“I imagine you are wondering why I sent for you,” the emperor began, only to scowl as his cousin shook his head.

“In fact, I have long expected your summons, cousin, and I beg of you to choose another,” the Paygan implored him. “I am unsuited for this task, for many reasons.”

“I must respectfully disagree,” the monarch countered. “In fact, you are the only one qualified.”

Kuosha Xeing met the emperor’s gaze. “Then I must refuse your request, cousin,” he said firmly.

“It is not a ‘request’,” Yuubazh snapped, “it is an imperial command from your sovereign. Should you choose to disobey, what follows will be on your head… for the short time it is still attached to your body.” He glowered at his subject before softening his visage. “I know what I am asking of you, and it’s cost. I regret it has come to this, but it must be done… and you know this as well as I. You must lead the attack against the Terrans.”

“Please,” the Paygan whispered, “do not make me do this. I beg you, cousin.” His eyes were filled with pain as he regarded the emperor. “Once, long ago, I was tasked with the Terran’s destruction, though fate thankfully spared me that grim duty. By the ancestors, do not force me to be their executioner now.”

“And what would you have me do?” the emperor sighed. “Stand with the Terrans, against the entire galaxy?”

“Yes,” the Paygan said fervently, “just as we stood with them against the Troika and the Yīqún. This… madness that has taken hold of them, it will pass, I am certain of it. We must merely wait until it does.”

“We cannot,” the emperor said with regret. “I cannot. When we stood with them, we had the Alliance at our backs. Now they are arrayed against them, and not only the Alliance, but the Troika and Oivu as well. The Ixi race is strong… but not that strong.” He waited until finally, his cousin bowed his head in defeat.

“... then I shall do as I am bid, Your Majesty.” Kuosha Xeing said quietly. Rising to his feet, he bowed formally to his sovereign. “By your leave.”

“There is one last obligation I place upon you, dear cousin,” he said gently. “I know you, and I know your heart. As much as it pains me to say this, it must be said.” Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with his subject. “I forbid you to fall on your sword, until it is done.”

The Paygan staggered, the shock of his words catching him off guard. “Your reaction is all the confirmation I require,” he continued, his words now tinged with genuine sorrow. “As I said… I know your heart.”

The noble whirled to face him with blood in his eyes. “You would strip away from me the last shred of honor I still possess?” he snarled, as he suddenly abandoned any sense of propriety. “You have no right to forbid me this… not even as my sovereign.” His hand gripped his sword tightly as he glared at his emperor, his body trembling in rage.

“This must be done,” the emperor repeated, ignoring the threat of the sword, “and you are best qualified to do it. It is that simple.” His nostrils flared as tension filled the room, before inclining his head in respect. “Hate me if you must, but consider this.” Stepping forward, he placed his palm on the Paygan’s shoulder. “Show the Terrans the honor they have earned. Another in your place might be tempted into barbarism, and despite all that has happened, they deserve a better ending to their saga than simple butchery.” His eyes bore into his own. “Instead, make it quick, and merciful.”

Paygan Kuosha Xeing searched the emperor’s expression for even a shred of hesitation, but there was none to be found. Bowing his head in submission, he whispered, “... I hear, and obey.”

“... On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Squinting into the darkness, Maggie snorted. “Little late to be backin’ out now,” she growled. “Come on, we gotta get closer.” Reaching out, she took Blye’s hand and placed it on her tool belt. “All right, we’re movin’. Don’t let go.”

The two women crept closer to the fence line, sticking to the shadows and using what cover there was to conceal their movements. The depot itself lay a hundred meters beyond the barrier, with guards posted at the entrances. So far, they hadn’t been spotted. Coming to a halt just short of the enclosure, Maggie whispered into her radio, “We’re in position. Anytime you’re ready.”

“Copy,” Ess responded. Almost a full minute passed before they received another transmission. “Okay, I’ve spoofed the alarms. They’re out of commission for the next twenty minutes. You’re good to go.”

“Thanks for the help,” the Tinker grinned, before tucking the radio away. “There’s a side gate no one’s watchin’,” she explained to Blye. “That’s our way in.”

“What if it’s locked?” she said nervously, but Maggie was already up and moving, dragging the Knight along behind her. Circumstances had forced her to leave her staff behind, but kept a firm grip on her sword, just in case. Arriving at the entrance they hid in the shadows, while the Tinker examined the lock.

“What a piece of junk,” she muttered, breaking out a multi-tool and getting to work. Within a few seconds, the mechanism disengaged. “What did I tell ya? No problem,” she chuckled. “Come on, let’s…”

“... Ahem.” someone behind them vocalized, clearing their throat. “Bit late to be taking in the night air, don’t you think?”

The pair froze as Maggie slowly turned around. A woman wearing a helmet and cradling a rifle sat on her haunches behind them, crouched only a couple of meters away. Neither of them had heard her approach. “Who the hell are you?” Maggie demanded, “and what are you playin’ at?”

“Name’s Inaba,” she replied, “and I suspect I’m here for the same reason you are… Maggie Al-Hajjah.”

“Maggie Rademacher,” she snapped, automatically correcting her. “And how the hell do you know who I am?”

“I make it my business to know these things,” Inaba explained, “just as I recognize your companion as Chevalier Blye Tagata. Forgive me, but I don’t recall your current rank among the Knights,” she apologized.

“That’s… all right,” Blye struggled to respond, flustered by this turn of events. “Are you taking us into custody?”

The stranger chuckled. “Quite the contrary. Like I said, I suspect we’re here for the same reason, seeing how we have a friend in common who’s in trouble. Rúna Aukes.”

“You know Rúna?” Blye said in surprise.

“I do,” Inaba confirmed. “I was her commanding officer until very recently. She got a note to me after they captured her.” She glanced around the compound, focusing on the guards inside. “As much as I’d like to continue this, the clock is ticking,” she said. “I assume you’re here for the weapons?”

“Weapons?” Maggie said in surprise. “We’re here for Samara.”

“Samara?” Inaba blinked. “She’s dead, or so I’ve been told.”

“That’s what we thought too,” Blye revealed, “but according to our source, she’s still very much alive, just frozen in stasis.”

“So that’s how…” Inaba marveled, before shaking her head in wonder. “Never mind. Let’s get this show on the road.” Tapping her helmet, she spoke into the attached mic. “Dagger 1-5, this is Dagger 1-6 Actual. Neutralize the Tangos, over.”

“Copy, Dagger 1-6 Actual,” a voice replied. “Ready Action Front. Stand by, over.”

“Keep your eyes peeled,” the Valkyrie murmured, just as a series of loud coughs echoed in the treeline behind them. The guards surrounding the structure toppled like dominoes, none of them getting off so much as a single shot.

“Tangos are down,” Inaba said quietly. “Move in.” Motioning with her arm, she signaled behind her, as dozens of other Valkyrie materialized from deep within the woods. They moved like wraiths, not making a sound, rushing the surrounding gates before entering the compound itself. One squad linked up with Inaba as she opened the gate Maggie had unlocked.

“You coming, or staying here?” she asked the astonished pair.

“We’re comin’,” the Tinker answered, speaking for them both. “Ain’t we, Blye?”

“Yes… of course,” the Knight stammered, as they rose to join the others. Following in their wake, they entered the compound and neared the depot, only pausing when Inaba came to an abrupt halt beside one of the bodies.

“Goddamn it all to hell,” she swore, before forcing herself to look away.

“What is it?” Blye insisted. “What’s wrong?”

“... Nothing,” Inaba said after a moment. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

Maggie stared at the fresh corpse, then back at the woman guiding them. “Who was he to you?” she said quietly.

Inaba froze before turning to face her. “A friend,” she got out, before finally shaking her head. “They’re all Valkyries… just like us.”

“Shit,” the Tinker winced. “Clan leaders got a lot to fuckin’ answer for.”

“Yes… they do,” Inaba said darkly, as they entered the structure. Lights flickered on as they stepped inside, revealing crates and racks of strange devices. Vehicles were in plain sight as well, though nothing Maggie recognized. However, there was one object off to the side that drew her immediate attention.

“... I’ll be goddamned,” she said hoarsely, staring at a stature carved from blue-green crystal that was the spitting image of Samara.

“Did you find her?” Blye asked the Tinker.

“Sure looks like it,” Maggie swallowed, as Inaba moved to join them.

“We’ll grab her and go,” the Valkyrie told them, “and worry about freeing her once we’re clear. I suggest you both come with us, since sticking around here won’t be safe.”

“Pooling our resources makes sense,” Blye agreed. “I don’t think we could have done this without you.”

The Valkyrie merely nodded. “No… you couldn’t,” she agreed.