Ryn awoke to a knocking at her door, followed by someone ringing the buzzer, probably not for the first time, judging by the angry staccato of the fist banging against the metal door panel. She wiped her hands across her eyes and found they were puffy and damp. She’d been crying in her sleep again.

“Who is it?” she snapped angrily as she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the tiny ensuite bathroom. She knocked over some empty bottles as she moved, creating a clattering tinkle as they skittered over the floor tiles.

“We’re due for a briefing in ten minutes, Ryn. You can’t be late again! Get your shit together!” Bad yelled back through the door.

“I’ll be there in seven. Stop pestering me!” she called back, running the tap and splashing cold water over her face.

“I’ll see you there then. Seriously; don’t be late!” called Bad. Ryn listened to his footsteps fade away down the corridor. She went back into her cubbyhole of a room and began to drag on her undersuit and armour. The violent dreams that had once left her with a strange sense of glee had morphed over the years as more and more material for them had been added by her experiences. Now they left her filled with self loathing and revulsion.

The one luxury she did enjoy, in terms of accommodation at least, was a tiny porthole. The armoured stuff, she couldn’t remember if it was plastic, glass or some mix of them both, was a couple of feet thick and the clockwise stretch of the Necklace disappeared into the darkness. Some of the team preferred a sleeping pod on the underside so they could see the Earth spinning below them. Ryn couldn’t stand to see the pock marked and ruined planet from above anymore.

She preferred to watch the tugs and Discs moving around the vast bulk of the ship Bob had named Warspite. The gigantic bronze construct which dwarfed even the Necklace was docked a hundred kilometres from her room. It was easily visible from Earth even during the day, hanging like a second moon over the equator and was only a few weeks away from completion. To truly appreciate it you had to see it from space.

As she shrugged on the last piece of armour and waited a moment for it to pull itself tight around her body she reached out with her fire-sense and located Jane in the briefing room already. She tucked her helmet under one arm and vanished, appearing next to her team.

“Told you I’d be seven minutes,” Ryn said as she made her way over to the refreshments and got herself a coffee. She added milk and her friends winced as she poured in her usual six sugars.

“You’ll rot your teeth,” muttered Bolf in disapproval.

“It’ll be fine.” Ryn sighed as she took a long sip. Her stomach rumbled then her free hand flashed out and snatched something from the air. Bad had tossed a foil wrapped package at her. She unwrapped it and began munching on the tube of synthetic bread and meat it contained.

“Now we’re all here, let's get down to brass tacks,” said Bob from the form of a rudimentary mannequin that stood to one side of a large viewscreen on a single leg tipped with tiny wheels. “Fury is preparing to make his move on the Bunker. The Beastfolk have bent the knee to him.”

“How the fuck did he break Sylvia?” asked Simon. “She was solid as a rock.”

“We don’t know but what’s left of her pet tribulations and their swarms are moving on the Scars. She’ll be able to overwhelm the outer defences easily. Especially not with Fury and Splinter working together coming in behind her. There may be a few other Captains with them as well.”

“Splinter? Did I miss a global asshole ceasefire declaration or something?” asked Jane.

“They’ve been pooling their resources recently. We think Magic might be involved,” Bob replied. Ryn scowled around her sandwich-substitute. Magic was on her shit list but his flying Island had vanished years ago and he hadn't been seen since.

“What about Life?” asked Sally.

“Still on Bob’s World. He’s needed there to expand the agri-zone.”

“So it’s down to us?” asked Bad. “Groovy!” he flashed a gleaming grin around the room.

“You’re there in reserve. We’re going to deploy Gargants and Tarantulas to deal with the worst of it,” Bob replied. Andrea whistled appreciatively.

“I thought you were keeping them in reserve? ‘Once they go down they don’t come back up’,” she finished in a parody of Bob at his most pompous.

“The biomass from Sylvia’s pets makes it worth our while,” admitted Bob. The face was inanimate but judging from the tone he would have looked ashamed if it were possible.

“You’re going to let the Dragon eat them?” Bad barked a laugh.

“He’s been on starvation rations for over a year now, so have all the Shelly’s. This represents an opportunity to build their strength before the Kipragtsek gets here. We’ll bring the bodies up on lighters, or Ryn can blip the meat out if more Ravagers turn up,” Bob replied. “Simon, I’d really appreciate it if you-”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“No. I’m going. I’m not spending another day sitting in a room transmuting materials for you!” snapped the young man.

“We’ve been cut off from monster parts for years. We’re so close to completing the Warspite, it would just be a few more weeks,” Bob argued.

“If you weren’t ‘repurposing’ all your bloody Discs, drones and the weapons that used to be on the Necklace we could just destroy Fury from orbit,” Simon snarled. “Why should I sit locked in a fucking cupboard making shit that you won’t even allow to be used!”

“You’re too valuable to risk losing. Without you the Warspite won’t be ready in time.”

“Well fuck you very much. I’m still going.”

The machine emitted a simulated sigh and turned to look at Ryn. her eyes were still slightly puffy and while this drone looked like a shop mannequin it contained an advanced sensor suite and could see the physiological damage her emotional turmoil had inflicted.

“I’ll keep him safe,” she offered, earning a glare from Simon and a snort from Andrea.

“Get the bones as well please. I can transmute them and they’ll be a useful addition to our resource pool,” said the drone.

“So you don’t even need me!” grumbled Simon. “Why didn’t we just hit Sylvia and take them before?” The rest of the team turned disapproving looks on him and Simon hunched down into his shoulders, muttering quietly to himself.

“Splinter is using her power to create fakes so we don’t know where the real force is. It’s somewhere in this area,” the screen flicked on and the aerial view of what had once been Wayfaire was shown. Once the rains had come and blown the powder and dust away the Scars had been revealed. Where Blue Street had been was the start of kilometre long scars of fused rock where the energy of the blast from Belisarius’ vessel had fed back on itself. The energy had passed back and forth between the portals and now the long lines burned into North Yorkshire were known as the Scars. Ryn hated the sight of it. To the south of her former home was a large grey blob overlaid across a sizable part of north England.

“That’s what, two hundred square kilometres or something?” asked Bad.

“Rather more than that I’m afraid. We do have the advantage of knowing where they are going though, so that simplifies matters for us somewhat. We’ll deploy on top of the last mine, the one Hermes managed to get going. We’ve filled it in but it will still be the easiest place for them to dig for the Portals.”

“How are we getting down?” asked Sally, glancing at Ryn.

“You’ll deploy from an assault lighter. It’ll provide overwatch once it drops you off.”

“Why the sudden liberty with the machines Bob?” asked Andrea.

“No point holding them back now. The Captains have learned from Hermes' mistake so they’re coming in force. They might hate each other but they hate us more. They’ve seen Warspite growing for years and while they don’t know exactly what’s going on they’ve figured some of it out. They think we’re going to shut the portals and bugger off, leaving them for the Void when it arrives.”

“When can we get going? I’ll need as much time as possible to dig and trap the place,” said Simon, rising to his feet.

“Hangar bay 3 is waiting for you. Get going.”

Bay 3 was on the underside of the Necklace. It had previously been used for lighters going up and down to the planet for resources and materials. Since Belisarius’ revenge there hadn’t been much in the way of monster parts to be harvested. Bob had an abundance of base metals and elements from his asteroid mining project but the magitech and outright magical components had become incredibly rare.

Most of his combat drones had been scrapped, their parts and materials recycled for use on the Warspite. Whenever they did get a haul of materials it was usually from raiding an old BME warehouse that had escaped the ravages of the Captains.

Ryn smiled faintly at the sight of the assault lighter. Long and sleek, it was made of blacked metal and looked like a fifty metre long dagger. Weapon pods and missile racks were recessed into the bottom of the hull, making the ramp into the hold steep. The lower half of the hull was chock full of plasma guns, beam cannons and Vortex missiles, a welcome accompaniment whenever one had to move around on the fallen planet below them.

The hanger had a forcefield allowing them to see the Earth slowly spinning below them. It would be morning when they touched down at the Scars at least. The clouds that had encompassed the world for three years had finally begun to settle properly and now it was occasionally sunny on the surface, if you were lucky.

The team scurried up the ramp and buckled themselves into the drop seats that lined the hull. Ryn pulled her helmet over her head and blinked as the display came to life in her eyes.

“All good here,” she called as she bucked in. The metal bands that wrapped around her legs automatically pinched her into the correct position. Her friends echoed the sentiment in various tones of boredom and excitement.

“Welcome aboard Air Force Bob,” came Bob’s voice in their helmets. The rear hatch whined shut. “Express elevator to hell, going down!”

“You know there were a bunch of movies made post-Advent?” muttered Bad as the acceleration snatched at them, shoving their bodies into the restraints.

There wasn’t a roar of jets, the lighter operated on a gravity drive that required a lot of precious magitech materials to function. The ship shot forward through the semipermeable force field and pivoted gracefully to dive down into the atmosphere. The sharp tip of the vessel began to glow red as it cut through the upper atmosphere.

“Two minutes to release,” called Bob. The chairs the team were strapped into flattened out and pivoted so their feet were pointed at the hull.

“Sixty seconds.” Ryn tensed. There would likely be scavengers waiting for them as soon as they arrived, scouting in the rubble of Wayfaire for anything that had been missed by previous groups that had wandered through. Hopefully they’d just run when they saw the ship. They were a rare sight these days to the denizens left on the surface.

“Brace! Flyers going first.” Bob said softly. The hull at Ryn’s feet spiralled open and she was ejected into the air, the braces on the drop seat snapping open in a fashion that she automatically flipped over to be facing down as she was ejected from the lighter.

She stabilised herself with a handful of teleports and checked around her. Jane and Andrea were both floating at the other side of the lighter, falling with it to stay close to the vulnerable vessel. When it was fifty feet off the ground Bad, Sally and Bolf were ejected. They arced through the air and landed with smooth rolls that brought them back to their feet. The lighter dropped another thirty feet then disgorged Simon, Armand, Claire and Kev. They all landed gracefully except for Simon who stumbled as he landed.

“That’s why you should stay on the Necklace mate. You suck at combat deployments,” teased Bad.