Jon and Lee had been fanboying something serious upon the discovery of Kay’s Life Magic. Super strength and super healing were overpowered as all fuck.

He checked the damned photos from her initial medical; they displayed the kind of wear and tear he would expect from a rough life in the frontier. Consequently, people from the 21st would pay good money for the kind spa treatment that shit was giving her skin. God only knew what was happening underneath. If he had to drink her under the table and drag her to medical, he’d do it. Who knew if that even fucken worked anymore.

Frankly, he was god damned fucking jealous, but she was a major character, after all; he should have expected as much. On the other hand, the technical know-how required to utilise plasma was something way beyond her. Better that he struggle to innovate out of his rut than her. Range was something he had over Kay at least, the higher the energy, the easier it was to detect.

He sat at the helm of the HAS some nights counting the lightning strikes he felt. The ship, of course, had some rudimentary EMI detectors. As stripped of non-essentials as she was, too much lightning and she was going to have a bad day. Comparing what he could detect against that, helped gauge his sensitivity. More significant discharges he felt further away, like a lighthouse in the distance on a foggy night.

He got up to 50 kilometres with a good jolt. No way in hell he could reach that far; 5k was the absolute limit with his proprioception: amazing, and also useless. Ionised gas was certainty his Resonance, but she was a shy and fleeting minx. The bolts he managed to reach quickly enough, would dissipate their ionised particles as swiftly as they formed. It was like trying to catch smoke with one’s hands: futile and pointless.

He really did not need to beat himself up over all of this. Things were generally going swimmingly. The recent discoveries were going up the ladder like a mother-fucker; there was little doubt of that. This place was going to be ground-zero for one thing he hated more than meat he couldn’t barbeque or cure, namely politics. Quarantine was gonna be expedited for sure. That meant more people were coming down the pipe, and soon.

He was effectively blocked off from his side, and that was how he liked it. So his only option was to find someone or a group of someones world-side that relished politics more than he hated it. He would subsequently play them off the white-collars, and he and Kay could then fuck off to somewhere with fewer pens, paper, and moving mouths. Maybe Japan, that was always on his bucket list, right below staying not-dead. That was number one.

He gauged he had a few weeks or a month at the most. Then the specialists would arrive and steal his candy. By that time, he wanted something to apologise for rather than ask permission.

Accordingly, Elgelica was his best play. Race supremacist Elves butting up against technologically superior humans was the stuff of legends. Their long lives would ensure the ass-spanking would be remembered for centuries to come. Just the kind of political stability this bullshit world might need. He was personally rooting for the Elves, but he didn’t hold out much hope.

He and Kay sat at the helm of the HAS, in the pilot’s and co-pilot’s seat respectively. The chairs were rarely manned outside of landing and take-off, and the controls rarely manually overridden. Hell, Lee had more flight hours piloting the HAS, and he’d never set foot in the thing!

They weren’t piloting the bulbous beast now either. Kay sat primly in her seat, restless hands in her lap. She’d been told to touch nothing. That was like telling a fat kid in a candy store he couldn’t have any. In recent days Kay had cottoned on to the idea of buttons, the poking and prodding phase of techno-culture shock was now in full swing. He hated this phase.

Jon’s feet were up on a side-dash away from the locked console. In his hands, he held a stubby black cylinder with fins and a rounded, weighted nose. It reminded him a bit of a mortar shell without the tapered tail.

“Kay, please unlatch the fastener of the discharge tube and lift the lid.” He gestured to a centralised vertical tube in the cockpit. It had a rounded top at seat height, easily accessible from their positions.

Kay looked noticeably excited at being allowed to touch a new mechanism. She sprang to her feet and spent the next five minutes trying to figure it out. When he opened his mouth to explain, she put a finger up without looking. Fine, fucken fiddle then.

The tube was much longer and broader than the meagre drop-rift in his hands. It was basically a downward-facing torpedo tube. Dropping shit from an airborne vehicle had a plethora of applications, many of which were destructive. Surprisingly, he mostly used it for constructive purposes.

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Kay finally got the latch undone looking up to ensure all was good. Jon nodded. Clasping the handle she pulled; it didn’t budge.

Jon smiled; the pressure inside the vessel had not been equalised yet. It was sealed from outside, but internal pressure was still that at 20000ft. He’d delayed activating the release valve as a teaching moment. As such the lid would remain sealed shut due to cabin pressure.

Kay did not relent.

His expression rapidly fell as a sucking noise could be heard at the edges. Pressure equalised, and the lid jolted open as resistance instantly evaporated.

Kay huffed “That was heavy! How do you do it without magical strength?”

Jon facepalmed. This was my fault, I should have known better. “We don’t, but Super-Kay over here gives zero fucks. You’re lucky this system is so robust.”

“So you were trying to trick or test me?” She folded arms in a look of defiance.

“I was trying to teach you about pressure, but apparently, you are too strong and stubborn.” He rubbed his temples.

“Teach me now.”

“The moment has passed.”

Kay frowned as though Christmas was cancelled.

“Here, put this inside. Right at the bottom if you will. Don’t drop it.”

Far more eager than seemed sane, she took the drop-rift from him. Then she lent in up to her elbow and deposited the small black finned missile on the exit latch. He heard it clink on the metal.

“Alright close her up, and I’ll let you do the drop.”

Sealed and latched, he guided her slim hand to the button. Flipping up the perspex switch shield, he let her depress the red glowing rectangle labelled ‘Bombs Away!’. A thunk and whistling air below let him know the payload was free. Screens nearby showed the hull-mounted gimbal camera tracking the item with a white square as it fell.

“Good job. Now let’s get ourselves ready in the rift room. We deploy in 15 minutes.” He got up, and Kay followed him back to the bunker.

The drop-rift impact site was in a cluster of trees. The device was designed to take impacts; being dropped from the HAS at six kilometres up made that an essential requirement. They stepped through onto darkly soiled forest floor.

Upon passing through and after a brief sweep, he glanced back at the flimsy rift. The black finned missile sat half embedded and diagonal in the earth. A short tether extended from its tail to the floating balloon ring. Inflated with helium, it could right itself from whatever angle the canister landed. The downside being it bobbed in the wind, making traversal clumsy. Kay demonstrably stumbled as she stepped through, scolding the thing with a backward glance.

She was equipped with her compound bow, and him his rifle and sidearm. After securing the area, the drop-rift was replaced with a far more inconspicuous and stable stake deployed rift. It sat properly flush with the ground, and he activated it briefly to ensure their fall back position.

Kay took a few moments staring up at the sky and taking deep breaths. They had been cooped up for a few weeks after all. The HAS alleviated cabin fever to a degree but was no substitute. A chilly breeze pulled through the trees contrasting with a dusky red sky.

“Master, these plans for Elgelica rely quite heavily on me.”

“Duh, it’s your quest. Me support, you hero.” Pointing brutishly. “Why would I do all the work when you’re perfectly capable.”

“You trust me.” It was a conclusive statement, one she did not seem willing to argue.

‘Trust’, Jon knew the meaning, but its implications were dubious. People did what they did. He ‘trusted’ people to be themselves. Either he anticipated it, or he did not. “Sure.”

Kay turned to him, averting her eyes. “I feel I have not been as forthcoming as I should have regarding how Elgelica shall receive you, or more precisely your kind. Humans are most undoubtedly second class citizens within their walls.

“I had withheld this deception as a means to test your character and intent. The last few weeks, however, have changed much.” She fiddled with her bow. “Please, I fear for your safety, and I wish to apologise most contritely for my deceit.” She knelt and bowed her head like he was some kind of king, again.

“Well now you’ve gone and fucked it up, that was a perfectly good play! From here on, I’ve gotta rely on your Poker face.” He gave a defeated sigh. “Get up! Look at me! In the eyes!”

Slowly standing, she meandered her gaze until their eyes met.

“Good, my name is Kel or Jon. No honorary title, and definitely no ‘Master’. I am your aide. We are world-side now. That means: put your game-face on. We are doing this, no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’.”

Reluctantly she made that smirk he’d grown fond of. “So when you say ‘game’ you imply this is not a game, is that correct?”

“Oh my god, she’s beautiful! Don’t they grow up so fast! It brings a tear to my eye.” He wiped theatrically at his cheek.

Folding her arms, she said, “So Jon, what do we have on the docket for today?”

He mustered all the old-timey gravitas he could—which was not much—and said, “Why honourable Luren-sena!” Kay adopted Ralfen’s family name on her father’s side as an alias. Elves were matrilineal.

“‘Tis necessary we show our value to the great people of Elgelica! As you know a party of Orcs was spotted not far from here. Perhaps the vanguard of the formidable Mor’ Orc horde spreading across the channel to the northeast. From whence they came and wherefore, would be of great value to the Elves would it not?”

“I am astounded you can speak properly!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“Tisk aide, I’ll have none of that language while in my service or I’ll whip you myself. Are we clear?” Kay gave a wry smile. God damn it, she was going for it.

“Yes, mam!” He stood at mock attention.