Lt. Colonel Amaranthe peered out the side of the heavily armed combat gunship to see the chaos below. He was proud of the response time of the 1st and 3rd battalion put forth, not only that but to bring in tanks and airborne as well really made his day. “There's no way the girl will get out of the city now,” he thought to himself. The gunship he was in had an audio system that blared the order for Marital Law on a loop; “Attention, Martial Law is now in effect. Return to your homes immediately. Any violators will be arrested by military personnel or law enforcement, any resistance will be met with force.”

It brought a smile to his face to see all the civilians scatter around like roaches as they scrambled to find shelter as his marines began rounding up curfew violators. “Yes little insects, run and scatter from the true power of the world!” he watched as a large group scattered as a marine executed a civilian in the mass. His smile turned into a grin from the panic. He found the common civilian no better than mindless sheep; they look big in large numbers but as soon as something happens to remotely scare them, they fall apart without direction. Whereas his soldiers met terror with force and brought down any obstacle in their way whether that be the damned Saurian, the fragile Eskarii or even the pitiful human uprising. Amaranthe considered violence to be the ultimate solution. Perhaps not the most rational of solutions however, it was the most effective and gave results quite quickly; if there is a problem? Simply erase it.

Out of the corner of his eye he did spot a trio of the local Special Tactics unit escorting two civilians further down the road he had been observing. “Why aren’t they handling those civilians?” he wondered as he leaned over the open panel next to the gunner stationed on one of the dual rotary guns on the gunship. Upon closer inspection he saw that both of the civilians limped in between the officers. He grimaced at the sight, “what happened to survival of the fittest? Oh well, I guess you can’t expect local police to be as hard as a battle hardened marine. No matter, I can always just find out who those three are and have them punished for their insubordination… perhaps I will even find out who the little wretches are and have them executed right in front of the officers just to drive the point home.” Amaranthe’s smile twisted into a sadistic grin as the thought occurred. That is what he will do, until then he had a city to scour for the piece of shit superior of his. He did not mind being an attack dog, honestly the hunt was almost as fun as the kill, but right now he followed the whimsical orders of an overweight man who has not seen a battlefield in over 30 years that had some petty vendetta against a 19 year old girl.

He could not deny his curiosity about that. What would such a high-ranking commander have to do with some random girl from the metropolitan city? Not that the colonel would answer him if he had asked. Admittedly he had read the girl’s profile; anti-mage rhetoric, pro-xenos propaganda, generous amounts of slander against the various governments and their agencies, and of course to top it off was the extensive history of domestic violence. Amaranthe could appreciate the last part, though he did have his own qualms with the two major governments that held dominion over Earth, he did admire the girl for not taking any kind of shit from anybody. Aside from the possibility of becoming a domestic terrorist rather than a local government nuisance, he did not see a single connection between her and his superior officer.

Seeing as he could not force the information out of Colonel Sanders, he would have to try to squeeze it out of the girl when he got his hands on her. “That'll only be a matter of time. Hopefully she is as strong as she seems, it would be a shame to deliver broken goods to Sanders.” He thought to himself excitedly as he continued to watch the chaos unfold throughout the city.

ΩΩΩ

The D.S.T.U. ushered Morrigan and Torvil through the back alleys of the Denver streets with weapons ready. Luckily the growth of the city provided many ways to avoid detection, more so that the D.S.T.U. knew all the routes to take given their line of work. Morrigan’s heart broke at what transpired around them throughout the city. What glimpses she caught were terrible; citizens being rounded up, beaten or worse. The periodic gunshot that echoed throughout the city only solidified the idea of ‘worse’ and each crack in the distance added another stone to her stomach. It was not fair that the citizens suffered because of her. The military wanted only her and since they could not find her, they were taking it out on the city. The weight of guilt made her want to cry. “Maybe I should have just gone with Taylor…” her heart hurt even more at the idea of her beloved suffering because of her.

Who are you trying to bullshit? Apollyon scolded. You would be in chains, at the mercy of those you hate more than anything. No amount of self-sacrifice would stop your boy from being taken. Its words brought the sting of tears to her tired eyes. Apollyon was right, Taylor was selected just as she was, even if it was at random. That did nothing to ease the guilt she felt for him and the people of Denver. You think I gave you power just to throw yourself in a cell? Get over yourself little girl. Besides, you know as well as I do that the people are under the constant thumb of your Federation, regardless of what is happening around us.

It hurt. Apollyon had been supportive and pushing her to survive so she could see her dreams of peace come true since they met. Even according to Apollyon, it could see into the deepest parts of her soul and pick apart every ambition she had. Now it did nothing but belittle her for feeling even the slightest shred of regret and guilt for the events that transpired. Morrigan bit her lip hard enough to refocus her attention on the pain rather than the tears that threatened to fall as she looked to her father and every companion around her. All four of them were putting themselves on the line in order to help her escape, to keep her alive. For her father it made sense, though it’s not universally true, any parent should sacrifice whatever is necessary to see their children safe and healthy. Rigo and Jen did not owe her anything though, she was just their squad mate’s kid; she knew better than to think that though. Between the team was an insurmountable loyalty and unbreakable bond that would drive every single member to throw every caution and moral into the wind for each other. She knew if the rest of the team had been with them, they would be equally on board with seeing her to safety regardless of the cost even if she did not agree with it.

Then there was Torvil. An Eskarii operative hiding behind enemy lines who has not only put his entire operation on the line, but also his life. She could not help but wonder why. The only thing she knew was that in some form or another they shared the same ideals and sentiment about the way the Terran government treated the Eskarii people. Aside from that there was nothing personal between them except spending every minute of the past six hours together evading authority. So why would he go through all of this just for her?

Does it really matter why? Apollyon prodded her mind in an attempt to get her to see the reality of her situation. The spirit could simply give her the answers to life, tell her all the directions it knew after spending millennia upon millennia listening to humans. However, if she was to be the vessel of its power, rise up and usher the feeble attempt of an era of peace like she desired, she needed to learn on her own; gain the experience needed to take charge of reality. Apollyon was not being fair to her though when it came to her aspirations. Over the course of humanity there had been only a good handful of humans who effectively pushed towards peace, all ultimately failing in the end. Not only did she want peace among humanity, which was a disaster of creation to begin with, but to add two other species into the mix? The young girl it felt potential in was absolutely out of her mind, which was one of several reasons Apollyon found her so appealing. “On the other proverbial hand, no human has been able to harness the level of my power that she has, much less wield it,” Apollyon thought in the barred space of its own being where she could not hear.

Morrigan reflected on the question. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. In the end I guess, I am something to them. Which means their sacrifices are my own. I need to do everything I can to make use of the time they give me…” Morrigan responded to the ancient being. If Apollyon had a mouth, it would have grinned in pride.

That's a smart girl. She was picking things up as fast as it had hoped. Granted, the first thing Apollyon had done when they made their pact was delve into her mind. It knew she was intelligent; realistic albeit emotionally irrational. That was something Apollyon could work with. After all, emotions were key to the powers of the universe.

Morrigan felt her resolve rebuild as her group came to the end of an alleyway kitty corner from the closest subway station. By this point the majority of the main streets of Denver have been cleared of civilians, so that only left patrolmen and marines in the streets. Simmons mounted up against the wall near the alley entrance to peer out. Morrigan stood farther back in the group to get an idea of their surroundings. What she saw was two marines guarding the entrance to the subway next to an armored truck with a large caliber machine gun mounted to the top. She breathed a sigh of relief to see the gun unmanned. Simmons seemed to have the same realization as she watched her shoulders fall in relief. Jennifer turned to Santiago, “okay, the street is clear, we have two contacts at the stairs next to armor. How do you want to handle this?” Morrigan could tell as gun-ho Simmons was, she even knew it was a bad idea to draw attention near the destination they needed to go. She considered it a massive stroke of luck that they made it this far without drawing even the closest amount of attention and had no idea what they could do about getting past the two marines without confrontation. Torvil spoke up to this question.

“Why don’t you three distract the marines while we slip in at a different angle? If you can keep their attention long enough, we can get over the wall, then it’s just a matter of making our way down the stairs silently.” There was nervous shifting of feet at the Eskarii’s plan as they mulled the idea over. Morrigan was not confident in the ability to remain quiet, but it was the best non-confrontational plan anyone could think of.

Finally, her father submitted to the plan, which was a surprise given the risk. “Alright, but if things go south… well we do what needs to be done and go from there. At this point we’re operating blind and I’ll put my trust in Torvil's plan.” He turned to the Eskarii, “thinking on your feet is what you do right?” Morrigan watched Torvil nod with a serious yet smug smirk on his face. She was not quite sure what made her father ask that or what it signified but their plan was set and all she had to do was Torvil’s lead.

Before the three D.S.T.U. made for the street, Torvil stopped them. “Stop!” he commanded as he stood next to the lieutenant. Before any of them could say a word, Torvil drew his large dagger and held it against Santiago's black and red chest plate. Torvil could sense the sudden panic of the group and grabbed ahold of the lieutenant before he could back away, “don’t move. We can’t have your names on your armor,” he explained as he wedged a good amount of length under the thin piece of metal with their last names stamped to it. Luckily the plates were pinned to the armor with thin bars of metal, so as Torvil carefully pried the plate up one of the pins gave, springing half the plate upwards. Morrigan could see their agreement of the Eskarii’s plan, especially her father. Simmons followed suit using her own knife to begin working her father’s name plate off his chest plate. Torvil grabbed the rest of Santiago’s name tag and bent it over before twisting the metal downwards, snapping the other pin off.

James muttered under his breath before looking at Torvil, “thanks for the save, I don’t think any of us thought of that.” Once Simmons broke one pin, James waved her away and pointed to Torvil before grabbing his tag and ripping it off his chest. Simmons let Torvil work on her name plate, but not without making it awkward.

“You know, I’ve never had an Eskarii hold me at knife point before, was it as exciting for you as it is for me boss?” she said with the hint of a shit eating grin behind her helmet. Morrigan laughed while the other officers groaned. She noticed Torvil smirk devilishly at the joke as he broke one of the pins and sheathed his knife.

After pulled her tag off he gave her a scrutinized look, “maybe some time you can see what an Eskarii can really do with a blade.” Morrigan covered her mouth to stifle another laugh.

“May have to hold you to that!” Simmons hummed with genuine interest which made the playful banter all the more amusing to Morrigan. Then the curious thought crossed her mind of whether or not Terrans and Eskarii could actually have children together, much less have sex. She actually had very little knowledge of Eskarii anatomy aside from generally looking almost identical to humans. Not that she found the answer important or relevant for that matter.

Her father awkwardly coughed in order to break the moment, “come on, let’s get these two to safety.” James stepped between his teammate and the Eskarii to collect the two tags Torvil held. He then turned to Morrigan and grabbed her hand to place the three tags into her palm. “For safe keeping, now you two get going and be safe.” Morrigan closed her hand around the tags tightly and gave a pseudo-stoic nod before thrusting herself into his arms. It was bitter relief to feel his arms around her as he held onto her tightly. She had no idea what was going to happen, for all she knew, this might be the last time she ever saw her father again.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She had to force such thoughts away. If she let such decisive thoughts overtake her mind, she would never be able to leave her father’s side, ultimately getting caught and being forced away from everything she held dear while putting them in harm’s way. She banished the thoughts, “the only way to keep them safe is to run,” she told herself with a sniff before releasing her father. Her father seemed less inclined to let her go but relented. With a sad smile, she nodded to her father and his team before turning to Torvil and making off back down the alley to find a way to get around the marines.

There is no need to be so worried, they’ll be fine.

“I know…”

Do you though?

“Yes! I know it's what needs to be done... Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.” She retorted angrily.

Hehe fair enough, keep in mind, whatever is next, is the next step on a long, long road. If this creature really intends to help you, perhaps you will even get into the position to find that boy toy of yours.

Morrigan reluctantly thought of Taylor, what horrors would he endure because of her? What things would he be forced into? Her life aspirations were to see the non-mage humans and the Eskarii free from the Federation’s grip and live a beautiful life with her love. “I hope you're right… I wouldn’t even know where to begin, how can I save everyone if I don’t even know how to save him?”

First by seeing where this all goes then we go from there. My power is yours.

Morrigan contemplated Apollyon’s words as she and Torvil weaved their way through the alleyways and ducking patrols on the main streets. She did not know what was next, all she knew is that it would not be easy.

ΩΩΩ

Helen peered through the rear window of the muscle car as Taylor’s parents drove back to her house. She could not help but feel like they were being watched. After the events at the school and the five-hour detainment, something felt significantly more weird than what transpired. It was not long before they started to notice the unrest in the city begin to brew. What was even weirder to Helen was that the marines paid more attention to her than anyone else, though she concluded it probably had to do with Morrigan’s involvement in the game the military was playing.

She felt bad about Scott and Samantha, their son had just been hauled off to join the ranks only hours before, under the guise of a legal draft which was actually illegal. They had been smart enough to wallow in silence instead of some of the other parents who earned physical assaults from the special ops at the school and threats of arrest. She could feel their despair though; it permeated the inside of the car. As much as she wanted to get to the bottom of the situation, she felt obligated to take care of Taylor’s parents as well. After all, her and James thought of Taylor as family, why should she not feel the same about his family.

They arrived at the Clarke home and shifted into park. Helen spied the distant military helicopters in the distance with distaste. It had only been 20 minutes since they had received the broadcast for Martial Law and were lucky enough to be outside the initial radius to avoid detainment. Scott sighed heavily as he got out of the car to let Mrs. Clarke out. Scott and Samantha were visibly shaken by the events. Helen could not blame them, if she had to admit, internally she was not holding up as well as she appeared. The truth was she wanted to freak out and go on a massive tirade to mitigate some of the frustration, however the Briggs family needed her to be stronger, James needed her to be stronger and most of all; Morrigan needed her to be at her strongest.

“Why don’t you both come inside? It’s too dangerous to head back into the city,” Helen offered as she moved forward to step out of the car.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Samantha's smile was genuine, “we appreciate the offer but—"Helen raised her hand to stop her. She knew where the conversation was heading and could not allow it.

“Listen, if you try and get home the chances of you getting arrested are nearly guaranteed.”

Scott leaned down to look between Helen and his wife. They were torn. They wanted to be home with a sense of familiarity in the chaos that was rising throughout the city, but they also saw the danger. Scott leaned further into the car and looked at his wife, “Honestly Sammy, Helen is right, it’s bad enough… well we should take our safety into consideration.” A single stray tear ran down his wife’s cheek. She knew what he was going to say, as did Helen. “We could use the company. I’m sure she could use it too…” his gaze turned to Helen. Scott was putting on the brave face of the Briggs as Helen was doing. He knew she had to be in as much pain as they were.

Samantha wiped her face with a sniff. Unable to find the words so she merely nodded to her husband as she reached over to grab Helen’s hand in comfort and appreciation.

As they headed inside, Helen led them to the living room. “Please, try and make yourself at home.” She watched them look around the house in awe. Helen nearly forgot that the Briggs were not as well off as her family was. “Would you like anything to drink?” she inquired as they cautiously sat on the couch.

Scott rubbed his face, “do you have anything strong?” Helen caught Samantha nodding despondently as she stared at the high-end hardwood table before her.

Helen smiled sweetly, “of course,” before moving to the kitchen. Grabbing three glasses and one of her husband’s bottles of whiskey, she returned to join Taylor’s parents. She set the glasses down and poured herself a finger before handing the bottle to Scott. “I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

He took the bottle giving her a sad but appreciative smile. He poured two fingers for himself and a triple for his wife. Helen and Scott sipped their drink as Samantha downed hers in two gulps before pouring more.

Helen felt terrible. It was not a guarantee that their son was taken because of her daughter, as far as she was concerned the draft was illegal despite being told that it was a last-minute sign off. The Federation had several rules when it came to drafting, that included time frames and locations during every year. However, there was an underlining theory that the draft would not have happened if Morrigan had not been targeted. Helen stood as she finished her drink before setting the glass down. They needed to figure things out, why had Morrigan been targeted? Where was Taylor being shipped off too? And what could be done about all this? That’s what she needed to find and as an intelligence operator, she had the tools to figure that out.

She moved to the front window and moved the curtains enough to spy out the window. She spotted a flat grey colored armored truck that signified the scheme of the Federal Marine Corps. Her suspicions were true, they were being watched.

The TV clicked on causing Helen to jump. She turned around to see that Scott had turned the news on. Moving behind the couch she could see the madness that had begun to unfold around the city. On screen, a news helicopter hovered over the western section of Denver. Beneath them, rioters threw whatever they could at police as they ran for cover. Military tanks rolled down streets and dozens upon dozens of people were being arrested as gunships and troop transports commanded the skies above them.

“This is Channel 137 coming to you live from the Denver skies. What we are witnessing below is two battalions of marines coupled with Denver police to contain rioting caused by stop and search orders to every citizen in the city. The order was issued by Lieutenant Colonel Amaranthe, whose company was attacked by two terrorists during a sanctioned drafting at Denver West High School. What followed was an order of Martial Law requiring all citizens to return to their homes or face criminal charges. The suspects are reported to be a female rogue mage and a male masquerading as a–oh my god!” The camera panned to the streets below that showed a marine execute a citizen who was resisting arrest. It panned to another street where a tactical vehicle ran down three citizens as it raced down the street. “Am I really seeing this?” The reporter asked herself before the camera panned to a gunship moving to hover in front of their helicopter. Before the reporter could question what was going on, the pilot turned, “they are demanding we land and hand over whatever footage we have!” The reporter scoffed as she leaned towards the pilot while the camera man zoomed in on the gunship. “What? No! We have the right to be reporting this!”

What the camera man caught that no one else in the helicopter caught was that the twin rotary cannons on the nose of the gunship began to spin. “Shit!” came out of the camera man as he dropped his device. The last thing to be heard from the broadcast was the roar of the guns, the brief scream of the reporting crew and the sound of shredding metal before the screen went out. In the far distance, Helen and the Briggs could hear the muffled explosion of the news copter.

Samantha gasped at the scenes while Scott and Helen grunted angrily. Helen shook her head and stormed off past the kitchen into her office. She hit the power button on a large computer tower that instantly sprang to life, sending power and data to four different monitors that made the room glow. Once the computer booted up completely, she tried logging into the necessary programs she needed to do her job. However, each time she hit enter a program denied her access. “What the fuck?” she grumbled as she tried again only to receive the same message. Instead of becoming completely frustrated, she pulled up a video conference calling several colleagues as well as her boss. One by one each call was declined on her except for her boss whose image appeared on the screen.

“Mrs. Clarke.” Her boss said.

Helen bit her tongue to curb her attitude before speaking. “Director Herman, why have I been locked out of the system?” If her look could kill, the director would be dead already. She knew why she was locked out.

Director Herman, a man just past his middle years with greying hair and thick glasses, cleared his throat before addressing her, “as it stands Helen, you have been temporarily suspended of all duties regarding all military ops.” Helen was ready to bust at the seams.

“On whose fucking orders!”

Herman shifted his glasses up his face before looking directly at the center of the screen. “I did. Your outburst just now expresses my reason why. Reports coming in suggest your daughter has involved herself with terrorist activities —”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Helen interrupted.

Clearing his throat again in annoyance, he continued, “—that being said, this makes you too close to the situation.”

Helen crossed her arms in defiance, “oh yeah? Do those reports include an illegal draft as well as murder committed by the Marine Corps? Because that's what is going on in the streets right this second!”

“I’m sorry Helen but as it is, your orders are to step down from your duties. For your sake do try and refrain from digging any further, otherwise there will be no choice but to issue a court martial.” With that, the director cut the connection of the call leaving a black screen.

Helen could not control herself any longer as she threw her keyboard at the center monitor, shattering the screen. “Fuck!”

Scott and his wife both jumped at Helen’s outburst as they gave each other curious looks before Helen stormed into the room. She went straight for the bottle of whiskey, skipping the glass and took two long drags from the bottle before slamming it back down onto the table and plopping herself onto the couch in a manner much like her daughter, a scowl on her face as she stared at the whiskey. It took a moment for her to notice the raised eyebrows of inquiry on the Briggs’s faces. She leaned forward to pour another drink in her glass as she let them know, “I’ve been decommissioned. So, I’m locked out of the system that would tell me where Taylor is heading…” she took a sip from her glass with a grimace, not from the alcohol, but from the gravity of the situation. “Which also means I can't do any digging to find out what they want with Mori.” Her voice dripped with a venom that could only be spewed by someone made powerless when they have the answer right in front of them.

Scott and Samantha looked at each other again, “you were going to find Taylor?” Samantha asked cautiously.

It took a second for Helen to pick up on the woman’s tone and seen the compassionate disbelief in her eyes. She let out a heavy sigh to try and relax enough to diffuse the tension. “Of course I was, James and I love Taylor like we do Mori. According to my husband Taylor even made a good impression with his squad on her birthday which means Taylor is one of us now,” she told them as softly as she could manage, though bitterness still hung on her lips. She watched Samantha soften and lean back against her husband. It seemed Scott took the back seat of the conversation, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever may start with two upset mothers who both lost their children today.

“We appreciate that you would do that for us, even if it wasn’t personally heartfelt by you.” Samantha thanked her.

Helen scoffed and shook her head, taking another drink, “well my plan has been officially derailed. My goal was to figure out where our boy was and send the D.S.T.U. to get him out. Then figure out where Mori is.”

This brought Scott into the conversation, “can they even do that?”

Helen smiled thoughtfully into her drink before looking at them, “James’s crew will do anything that needs to be done for the sake of our own. It would be risky of course but even if Taylor made a bad impression, the fact that he’s respectively Mori’s? They’d do the job. That group is a bunch of crazy bastards I could not be happier to know. Hell, Jennifer would do the job by herself if need be, that woman is crazier than my daughter.”

She watched them give her a doubtful look, which had it not been for the long stressful day, may have brought back the earlier conversation on how Morrigan felt about them, but there was an element of truth to what she said. Instead of being offended, she smiled, “oh yeah, she’s got a wild streak like no other, can go against the toughest of men, champion of bar brawls and a mouth to match. If it wasn’t for the fact that James met her at work, you’d think she was Mori’s crazy aunt.” She finished with a chuckle that helped ease Scott and Samantha into amused smiles.

Samantha brought up the difficult question, “so, what do we do now?” Helen pursed her lips in irritable thought. She did not want to admit that she had no clue. Therefore she stood up, walked up to the TV mounted on the wall and reached behind it. What she pulled out was a hidden cellphone.

She sat back down and turned the phone on. “James was smart for telling me to get a phone the military did not know about, now we hope my husband has had better luck than we have,” she stated as she typed out a text.

ΩΩΩ

Simmons was the first into the open, behind her helmet she wore a grin that would frighten any man. Despite the stress, she could admit that she was enjoying the game they were playing against the military. As she sashayed up to the two marines with Santiago and Clarke trailing behind her, she noticed the massive heavy machine gun mounted on the top of the armored truck had begun to follow her. That was a reason for panic. She eyed the massive gun as she held her gait. “Hey boys!” she called out, forcing herself to be cheery as possible. Both marines looked at each other, their open-faced helmets allowing her to see their expressions. Both stiffened, pulling their rifles closer as one stepped forward.

“What are you doing this far north? We were told all police personnel were to be searching towards the center of the west side and sweeping east with the rest of 1st battalion?”

Simmons shrugged as she turned to Santiago, she had no idea how to respond to that. Santiago on the other hand, had the authority and knowledge to circumvent the question. “At ease men, I am the lieutenant of this squad. You are correct, majority of the police task force are sweeping the city streets, however, as D.S.T.U. officers, we’ve been tasked with searching the alleyways of the city. We just finished our quadrant and figured we would check in with you and see how your end is handling things.” His voice carried the weight of someone of higher authority despite having no jurisdiction over the marines. That tone was a sound they recognized though which put them at ease a bit. Simmons noticed the turret had started returning to its original sector now that the three agents were deemed harmless.

Simmons gestured at the mounted gun, “that thing automated?” One of the marines grinned.

“Nah, we have someone in the truck manning the gun remotely.”

Simmons's eyes lit up at that prospect and slung her rifle behind her back as she reached to unhook her helmet. Both Clarke and Santiago gave her a halfcocked look as she let her short light brown hair fall just above her eyes, giving her head a shake to loosen her hair up. She gave the four men a devious grin as she rested her helmet under her arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Santiago asked in disbelief in a tone of a disappointed authoritative figure. Simmons merely turned as she raised her left hand to brush up against the side of the truck, adding a level of seduction only a woman could get away with.

“You know me boss! I like me a man who knows his way around a big gun, gotta bag em and tag em while you can right?” she said with a wink as she disappeared around the back of the truck. Both marines chuckled as they shifted on their feet, feeling far more relaxed while both Santiago and Clarke let out deep, heavy, disappointed groans shaking their heads.

She strutted right up to the passenger door where she saw a helmet just above the base of the window. Knocking on the door, a marine rolled down the window and stuck half his body out of the window, “well hello there little lady!” Simmons smirked, the marine was mildly attractive, someone who looked like they had a level of desperation for the attention of a woman that was higher than their IQ. The perfect target for her.

Santiago returned his attention to the two marines and held out his left hand, “Rigo, this here is Jared.” He stated as he shook both their hands.

“Marsember.”

“Del’rous.”

Santiago thumbed behind him at the truck in exaggeration, “and that psychotic mess is Jen.”

“I heard that!” they heard come from the other side of the truck which drew chuckles from all four of the men.

Clarke shifted his gun and nodded towards one of the men, “is that the X255? Shit I’m jealous, the department will only fund us these CT139’s.” He shifted his rifle again to try and keep their attention.

One of the marines took the bait, “yeah, we finally got them as standard issue. They used to only be reserved for Spec Ops but now that they have their new toys, we got all the hand me downs.”

The other marine chimed in as well, “lucky bastards too. Their rifles are more modular and come standard with integrated 12-gauge pump action grenade launchers that fire these nasty little barium infused RPGs.”

Santiago let out a low whistle, “looks like we need to have a talk with the commander when we get back.”

The marines continued to talk about weapons while Simmons shamelessly flirted with the gunner. Their objective to distract the marines had been successful.

ΩΩΩ

Torvil leaned out of the alleyway a block northeast of the subway entrance. He felt pressure on his shoulder as he glanced to see the young mage leaning out to get a look as well. They both could see that the marines were distracted and their window was secured. It was only a matter of moving stealthily across the street and getting into the subway. Leaning back into the alley, he turned to see his companion emanating nervous energy. He had to remember that despite having highly trained parents, she was just an ordinary Terran girl, not a trained infiltrator.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he asked, “are you ready?”

Morrigan could not help but nervously chuckle as she looked up at Torvil. She did her best to smile but could not remove her traces of doubt. “I’m about as ready as I’m going to be.”

Torvil gave her a small smile hoping it was enough to bestow some confidence in the girl as he gave her the once over, checking for anything loose that may make noise and making note of the kind of shoes she was wearing. “Make sure when we get close to the entrance that you keep your weight in your knees and heels. That will make you quieter.” The look she gave him immediately told of her confusion. He sighed into a smile with a small shake of his head. “Just try and do what I do, and listen to your feet. When we get there, I will go first and assist you okay?”

Morrigan nodded even if her nervousness screamed at her. It'll be fine, worst thing that could happen is needing to kill a couple of soldiers.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes, “oh that’s the worst thing that could happen?” Her question made Apollyon laugh, which made listening to the sound of her feet difficult. Apollyon felt her stress and decided to remain quiet as she and Torvil slinked their way towards the entrance of the subway. Her eyes were locked on her father who continued to distract the marines.

It had become hard to hear anything but the thunderous beating of her heart in her ears. Her anxiety was through the roof, distracting her enough to nearly run into Torvil as he slowed down. It was time to focus, and she knew that if she did not focus, their plan would be in jeopardy and possibly more than just her would get hurt.

Torvil held his hand up to her as he reached their destination, leaning over the edge to gauge how close to the marines they had to get to safely drop into the stairwell. Morrigan watched Torvil move closer and closer to the marines. The thought of being this close to the enemy scared her. The position Torvil chose was only ten feet from the marines which was dangerously close, even for his comfort. However, he took into consideration the girl’s experience and knew she would not be able to make a longer drop silently. He turned to the girl and pointed to where he stood next to the concrete railing. Torvil had chosen their spot into the stairwell and slowly crept up to his position.

Once he was in a satisfying distance, Torvil leapt onto the stone railing, standing entirely on his toes before turning and grabbing the railing. With practiced precision he made his way over the ledge silently and dropped down onto the steps. It was now do or die for Morrigan. She crept up moving slower than Torvil had. At this distance she could hear her father and Santiago speaking vaguely about tales of their missions or shenanigans which caused her very mild comfort. She stared down the marines before leaning over the rail to see Torvil waiting for her. He ushered her to hurry as she frowned at the six-foot drop.

With there no longer being a choice in the matter, she held her breath as she lifted herself onto the three and a half foot wall and slowly positioned herself onto the wall. Her nerves were a wreck as she let out a steady breath out her nose. She looked down again to see Torvil standing closer to her, hopefully planning to help her down quietly. With every ounce if care she could muster, she did her best to mimic what Torvil had done to get down.

As Morrigan hung off the railing down in the stairwell, Torvil reached up and grabbed her just underneath the rib cage. Once he had a hold on her he tapped his finger against her side which for an Eskarii, was a sign to let go. However, Morrigan was not prepared for that and the motion ended up tickling her side causing her to loose grip with one hand. In a panic she scrambled to maintain hold on but failed, causing way more noise as her shoes scrapped against the wall and clacked against the stone stairs as she fell into Torvil.

Both marines heard her as they stiffened and turned to see what the noise was. Before anyone else could truly react, Torvil threw his knife at the marine to the right, his blade sunk deep into his throat. The last marine standing watched in shock as his partner slumped backwards with an Eskarii blade protruding from his neck. The moment of shock ended as the marine raised his rifle, turning towards the young woman and Eskarii that stood down the steps. Before the marine could put his finger on the trigger, a heavy boot planted onto his back, sending him headfirst down the stairs, his bulky armor causing him to skid down the steps rather than tumbling.

Morrigan side stepped as the marine came to a crashing halt next to her. She knew she had to act otherwise things would get a lot uglier. The issue was she did not know the proper response to a situation involving a down marine next to her, it was out of the scope of her experience except she did have one option that would be the solve all solution for the moment.

As the marine stirred to gain his bearings, Morrigan drew her pistol and took aim at the back of his helmet. She did not get to see her father raise his hand in an attempt to stop her as she pulled the trigger.