Sheets were tangled, and the blanket hung halfway off the bed, but the warmth of skin was plenty. Ren cozied-up over Gabriel’s bare frame, draped across his chest with her head over one shoulder, brow to the side of his neck. Every part of her tingled, and her heart felt lighter – even if only for a little while. She felt the soft stroke of fingers against the upper part of her right arm and shoulder – her left was buried in the blanket against the man’s right side – and she pivoted her cheek to look at him.

“…Do you have to go soon?”

Gabriel lifted his head up from the pillows so he could see her, “Not really. I think I’d rather stick around for a while anyway. …It’s way more comfortable here than aboard Maeve, at any rate.” He half-huffed a breath at his own expense.

Ren pushed up onto an elbow and narrowed her eyes in disbelief, “You’re not serious. You spent the night in a chair?”

“I didn’t have it in me to ask for a room again.”

“You’re the Vice Eidolon of the Fourth! You can have a damn room!” She scolded.

“It’s fine, really…I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Still, she gave him a look anyway, “Now you have to stay. Maybe we can both get some sleep…”

.

The recovery effort went on until dusk. Furion had done his best for as long as he could, remote-piloting his armor through the underwater ruins, trying to make-way for the First Wing divers who were there with him. Having the strength of a Fafnir at their disposal certainly made things quicker, but Furion paid a heavy price for it, and by the end of that evening – having borne the burden of carrying all of them out himself - the Captain was utterly broken.

His hollow armor stood there on the banks of the river, staring at the row of deceased that had once been a team of his peers; each one had a white sheet placed over them. The only Knights whose bodies could still be clearly identified were the ones who hadn’t been in the blasting-zone; Donivan, Alexander, Ianori, Michelle, Xandra, and Gareth, who had all been in the wings of the facility and just-barely outside the perimeter. Annashi and Michael’s armors had been recovered largely intact – excepting for their warped appearance – but Sammy’s had been so-badly melted that he had to be I.D.ed purely by the fact that they could identify the others first.

Rylen had been there to witness the placement of each victim. No living person was allowed to go anywhere near those bodies. Even the First Wingers who’d been there on the assist could only do so with drones and submersibles. Throughout the day, while Rylen stood his vigil, both Xanarken and Etienne paid him visits, but he wasn’t much for talking at that point and they both eventually let him be. When the last one was found and added to the line, Rylen waited a little while, but then told Furion, “Please make your way to the meeting room.”

“…Yessir.” The Captain answered, voice hollow and digitized from the distance. He flew that empty suit back up into the Aegis’ hangar, docked it into its pod, and disconnected the remote-piloting protocol. Having his sense of self restored to his real body was a strange feeling; it was like he’d taken a glove off that had somehow been wrapped around his entire frame. He pulled the interface-crown from his head and dreaded to stand, but stand he must, and with every bone in his chest feeling like it would snap as easily as dry kindling, he got up, and made his way off the bridge.

“Cargile, you have command.” He said gruffly as he took his leave, and the First Mate nodded.

“Yessir.”

The hall to Rylen’s office felt ten times longer than it really was, and it took half an epoch just to get to that door. When he finally arrived, the holograms of Captains Martell, Odinsdottir, and Gallifey were already there, and they waited quietly as Furion’s aching frame went to find his seat.

Outside, their three accompanying SkyFortresses were parked nearby, and altogether, were an island unto themselves. Joining the four Captains however was an unexpected unity of Eidolon; all four of them were there, too.

Including the elusive leader of the Third.

Etienne’s arrival was preceded by the sound of fluttering, like butterflies taking off in a whirlwind, rather than the simple rustling of sand particulates. She was, by and large, the most unique-looking of the bunch of them, with her combination of animal, plant, and insect themes. But, Arbelos was a strange thing in his own right. He took neither form nor substance; he was…a wisp.

A literal, simple, hovering orb of faintly-blue light, with two smaller of the same orbiting around it.

At first, Furion wasn’t even sure he was really looking at an Eidolon, but there was no other explanation for what that thing was. He could tell the other three Captains were a bit mystified as well.

“Good, now that we’re all here.” Rylen started, getting their attention off the sprite, “I’ll get straight to the point, for Captain Rydell’s sake. Down below, laid out in a row, is the sub-total of my failure as the Eidolon of the Sixth.”

Straight to the point indeed. No one had expected that opening statement.

“That there are only five Fafnir Knights left – and with at least 17 First Wingers unaccounted for from the facility itself – I can only take full and complete responsibility for the devastation that was wrought here yesterday. It was my order that the Aegis shoot onto my own people.”

That went through Furion’s chest like a knife, making it hurt all the more, I asked him to fire the first shot… Why would be take that burden onto himself alone?

“And unfortunately, I’m going to need one of you three to do the same, and finish the job.”

Eyes went around the room with concern, but Captain Martell was the one who spoke, “Sir? What are…we supposed to shoot at?”

“Onto the bodies.” He answered simply.

Etienne quickly fluttered into the middle of the circular table, all-but shoving the wisp out of the way, “Rylen, you can’t just… They’re your people… They don’t deserve that.”

“It’s…not about what anyone deserves.” He shook his head, “It’s about the safety of everyone else. My pride – my hubris – brought the Warp Magi north even after they rose from the literal dead to attack those same people. I brought danger to our doorstep, and I don’t know what its capable of. All I do know is that I’ve dealt with the consequences of its transference between three different bodies – four if you count the Magi Gemini to be separate beings – and I don’t know the conditions that allow it to do so, or why. The last body-swap it did was after it had already taken a direct hit from the Aegis itself. I…can’t take the risk that it might’ve left some part of itself in any of the warriors that it touched. Whichever one of you ends up pointing your gun at their remains…if it makes you more comfortable, I can come over and pull the trigger myself.”

The room was quiet.

“If no one will volunteer then I’ll simply have you three draw lots.” Rylen continued, and held his hand out, ready with just that sort of contingency. Above his palm manifested a little cluster of folded paper-looking panels. He held it out to each of the Captains, who – in turn, on their own ships – pulled one of the three lots out. Once they each had theirs, Rylen had them unfold, and it was Captain Odinsdottir who drew the one with a check-mark on it.

She bowed her head, and the papers dissolved again, “…Yessir.”

Furion could feel that raw pain burning at the back of his throat, “…Lord Rylen, there won’t be anything left to put into the memorial…”

“I’m sorry.” The First answered simply, “I really am. But I can’t have one more person die to that thing. I can’t take that risk.”

Furion’s eyes narrowed a little, “Then you might as well put Ren into the pyre as well. She was fully grabbed by the creature.”

“She’s alive and unbothered. Not even Ianori could claim that.”

“Rylen, you’re giving them whiplash.” Xanarken warned, stepping closer to the First’s side, “Have some pity.”

The Fourth and the Fifth looked on for a reasonable alternative, but Rylen maintained his stony visage, “That brings me to the part for which I had to call you three here.” They grumbled in annoyance at him, “I can only swear my own to silence about what happened here. Etienne, I expect you’ll do the same with yours. Arbelos, when the lockdown ends, you’re to monitor chatter on the World Cloud for any attempts at malicious disobedience by those who think they can anonymously reveal it. Put your troll-farms on it if you have to; anyone who whispers a word of this black-site is to be brandished as someone who can’t be believed…and I’m to be notified of any such content appearing. To that end…if there’s unanimous consent among the Eidolon, then for the next year, everyone who’s been physically present here will have their communications monitored and flagged for suspicious speech.”

“I refuse.” Xanarken said simply, before anyone had a chance to consider it, “Outright. We brokered trust in the World Cloud specifically by making a point not to interfere with people like that. I know you want to be sure this secret doesn’t get out, but…there’s better ways of making sure than by invading the privacy of all those people on the suspicion that they might one day disobey. They deserve more respect than that.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“And what would you have me do?”

“What you’ve already done. Maybe get a confirmation from everyone that they understand this is serious…but don’t monitor every word they say. That’s crazy. The fact that we even have a clause that lets us suggest doing so baffles me.” Xanarken said with annoyance, “We don’t track people, and we don’t listen-in on their conversations. The A.I. ambient-listening system is only to help facilitate the individual needs of the users, not to give us a microphone into their private discussions.”

All four Captains felt a sense of relief to hear it.

Rylen could only grudgingly agree, “Fine… Then, that’s all I had to say. Any remaining personnel on the ground are to return to their ships. Have the Fulcrum get into position and take aim. I’ll bet there in an hour. The lockdown will be lifted tomorrow at noon.”

Acknowledgements came from around the room, and the images of them started to fade away. Etienne still had a weird feeling about it all, but in the end, could only shake her head and dissipate into a particle-effect of butterflies and sparks. Xanarken waited a moment, arms crossed contemplatively, but even he vanished after a moment. Arbelos – who hadn’t said a word the entire time – blinked out of existence as quickly as he’d arrived. That just left Furion, who had to hobble his aching frame towards the door manually.

“Captain.”

Furion paused; he knew it was going to happen, he just wasn’t sure how near to the door he’d get before it happened. He turned around to face the First, “Yessir.”

“The Fafnir Memorial in Agartha doesn’t just hold ashes.” Rylen said quietly, “There are some whose personal wishes did not include being cremated. There are personal effects amongst the dead, and every one of those names holds meaning and honor regardless of what got put behind the placards.”

He had nothing to say to that. What comfort it was intended to offer was lost in the mire of Furion’s frustration.

Rylen watched the Captain carefully, “Are you angry with me?”

“My opinion of a commanding officer is irrelevant, sir.”

“You can speak freely here. I think I owe you that much.”

Furion was tempted, and his brow wrinkled briefly at the thought of unloading onto the Eidolon, but he collected his thoughts and drew in a breath, eyes closed, “No, sir. I still have a lot of work to do.”

“You five can go early if you want.”

“…Go early, sir?”

“Bereavement leave.” Rylen explained, “There’s nothing left for you to do here, and there’s already a small fleet on the way to pick-up the rest of the crew. I know already that your team understands the importance of keeping the details of our work close to the vest. I’ll have figured out where you will all be going before you get back, so you can take your armor with you, and not have to face seeing the Aegis in this state again just to come back and get it later.”

“And my brother?”

“I’ll let him decide what he wants to do, but I imagine he’ll just head back to the College.”

“Let me take him home then.” Furion asked, “He should be with family.”

“Are you asking to borrow a skiff?”

“Yessir.”

“Granted. Bring it back to Agartha when you’re done.”

Furion stared for a moment before taking his leave finally, and said nothing further. The door to his room was directly across the hall, but instead of going into it, he diverted to his office instead. The first thing he did was send out a message privately to the remaining Fafnir, letting them know they were free to leave if they wanted. The second was to the crew of the Aegis, to whom there was no way he could give a proper farewell to individually, or even as some big speech in front of them.

There was a melancholy to staring at the unfortunate curtness of that letter.

For some reason, I thought I’d have more to say, he thought, staring at the half-page on the display ahead of him. Fingers stayed on the embedded keyboard in the top of his desk, and he shifted where he sat, desperate for the relief of a deep breath but knowing his ribs wouldn’t allow it. He set a hand against his midsection and leaned back, “All that death and devastation; people either walked away unscathed or didn’t at all…and here I am with the only survived injuries, and I got them from my own girlfriend.”

He abruptly got a door-alert; his overlay showed it was Corbin in the hall, and he allowed the panel to slide aside to let the man though.

“Sir-”

Furion sat-up a bit straighter, “Were you camping-out in your inbox or something? I just sent that message.” He puffed; Corbin stood out ahead of him and gave that characteristic salute, but Furion just waved his hand down, “At ease. No need to stand on ceremony.”

Dark eyes looked ahead at the Captain, but Corbin took the directive for what it was worth and relaxed his posture, “Nothing better to do while we’re stuck on silence.”

“Can’t find the flaw in your logic there.”

“I saw the Fulcrum starting to turn around from my room.” The Fafnir continued, “Seemed pretty suspicious. I went to check if I’d missed something and saw your note pop-up at the same time. Figured maybe you knew something…”

Furion lowered his head, but then pushed up on his desk and rose to his feet. With a moment more of consideration, he shook his head and hit Send on the farewell letter, then stepped out into the open part of the room. From that side of the Aegis, all that could be seen through those massive windows was the open sky and the brother-moons, “Lord Rylen has decided to do a prompt, on-site cremation. The Fulcrum is turning around to be the furnace.”

“…You’re shitting me. Uhm…sir.”

He shook his head, and to make a finer point on what he’d said before, Furion dissolved the pauldrons and cape of his officer’s regalia, leaving just the blue jacket underneath, “I’m just talking as me right now. No formality.”

“…Sorry, sir, you’ll always be the Captain.”

“Alright…” He’d done what he could, “I feel the same as you, but…it’s not my call. I can only put my mind towards how I’ll tell their families. All of their families.”

“I don’t envy you your position, sir.”

“I don’t either. Maybe that’s why Lord Rylen is saying we can go early.” Furion shrugged, and winced slightly; it was like a sharp pinch on his left side.

“Yessir…” Corbin cast his eyes down a little, “…How long until the Fulcrum fires?”

“About 45 minutes. Lord Rylen’s giving enough time for the skeleton-crew on the ground to get clear.”

“Are you going to stay to watch?”

Furion wasn’t sure how to answer that, and he glanced back at the Knight, “Half of me wants to leave, because I don’t want to be party to it. The other half feels a sense of obligation to see it through.”

“Then?”

“…I’ll suit-up and watch from a respectable distance.”

“I’ll meet you there, then. I’ll tell Jense, too, and Ravan.” Corbin answered, and gave another quick departing salute before he made his way back to the door, “Sir.”

That seemed to be the deciding moment, and Furion gave a nod, “Roger that.”

.

The duo had moved from bedroom to living-room by that evening, and had pulled the whole nest of blankets with them. A few bowls and plates were stacked at the far end of the small coffee-table between the couch and the television, and with one of the many shows that Gabriel was dreadfully behind on, he and Ren had found themselves curled-up watching.

And that’s where Ren was when she got the notification. She lifted her head up from the perch she’d made on Gabriel’s shoulder, “…Oh…I think I need to go.”

“How come? It’s so late.”

“Furion’s calling. Says we have 45 minutes to get up on top of the Aegis before Lord Rylen torches the site.” She explained, a bit in disbelief at her own words, “…That doesn’t sound good.”

“Sounds pretty ominous, honestly.”

“Yeah…” She agreed warily, but decided to go ahead and answer the summons. She pulled free from the blanket-nest and – clad in just a long T-shirt – wandered around the apartment to collect her discarded uniform-base, “I don’t know how long this will take, but…you can stay here tonight if you want.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Each garment was pulled back into place as she found them, and with nothing left to find but her gloves on the floor by the door, she clicked her blues back on. She stepped past the back of the couch on her way over, and set one, then another, upside-down kiss to his lips, “Thank you for helping take my mind off everything. I’m sure it won’t be the only time I come looking for a distraction.”

“Happy to oblige.”

She departed after that, and made her way to the upper hangar. Confused as to why she was the only one there at first, she waited a minute, and soon, Ravan was there as well. Corbin was the next to arrive, then Jense, and finally, Furion hobbled through the gates. Everyone could see the toll the day had taken on their Captain, and Ren stepped forward, into the raised hand and the gentle pressure of a palm against her cheek, “I guess you were able to find them all?”

“…Such as they were…” He answered, and brushed his thumb just under her eye. He then turned to the rest of the gathered, “Corbin already knows, but…Lord Rylen plans to incinerate the fallen where they lie. Much as I hate it, I guess there’s some sense in making absolutely certain that Scyrexian didn’t latch onto any of them with ill-intended designs for later, when we have our guards down. The Fulcrum is already getting into position. I thought, maybe, you’d all want to be there for the send-off. I’m going up to the roof for the overlook. I leave it up to all of you to decide if you want to witness it, or if you’d rather not.”

No one needed further instructions; everyone dropped their uniform-jackets and kicked their boots off, moving towards their respective pods. For such a short outing, none of them bothered with their flight-suits, and just stepped into their armors as they were. Furion struggled a little, but he did the same, and they all made their way up into the cold night sky. Feet touched-down onto the hull above the bridge, and they walked to the side facing the water-filled caldera.

With the Aegis, Fulcrum, Bulwark, and Dreadnought all parked together, they formed a sort of boxy perimeter around the site. That massive cannon was pointed down already, and Furion crouched down on his knees, hands set to his lap and head bowed. Those huge solid-light wings folded-in behind him, the feathers draped across the hull like a cape, and he stayed that way – quietly – until the moment came.

The others had done the same, each silently remembering their fallen friends in their own way. The glow of that singular 3-second blast put dark shadows behind them…and it was over.

Furion waited a little while longer before saying anything. He pulled his helmet off and hooked it to one of the mechanical wing-limbs on his back, long hair swaying in that high-altitude wind, “…Lord Rylen tried to take the blame for what happened here onto himself earlier. But…much as he wants to be the sole reason it ended this way, I’m still Captain, and it was me who sent everyone down there.”

Everyone else pulled their helmets off as well, and listened quietly.

“I don’t know what lies ahead.” He continued, “Tomorrow at noon, the lockdown will be lifted, and ships will start to arrive to help take our crew to their new assignments. The Fafnir are free to leave at any time. I’m going to take Seth back home, and then…head to Agartha, probably, to work on notices.” He finally let himself stand, and with the help of his armor’s strength, was able to get up without much trouble – though it still hurt – and he turned to face what remained of his team. The smoke and smolder glowed behind him, “You’re encouraged to take your suits with you, so you can immediately go to wherever your next stops will be. Whatever you don’t take with you will be shipped to you once the Aegis arrives at dry-dock. I’ll send updates about whatever I find out, as I find it out, and hopefully…within a few months, we’ll be united on the same ship again.”

“Let’s just hope Lord Rylen decides to refit the Aegis with a new cannon so we can all come back together soon, rather than waiting for whatever he makes next.” Ravan said, “I refuse to believe he might disband us permanently.”

“I don’t think he would.” Corbin shook his head, “We’ll rebuild, and we’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

Ren looked on quietly at the smoldering embers of that crater in the distance. Hearing Corbin’s words gave her a sickly chill, “…Yeah. Never again.”