It was 3am by the time James Clarke had been able to leave the precinct and get home. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, it had been beyond a long day between a mountain of paperwork and the events during the day that led to his team helping his daughter escape the city. By the time his overtime was finished, every officer had more questions than answers when it came to what had happened within their city. The most the commanders could tell them was that a division of the military were assisting the search for the terrorists and they were to follow whatever instructions military leaders gave them. The lack of information and submissive nature of their orders smelled of a cover-up, especially when many officers witnessed the day’s events and very few knew who it was they were looking for.

James stepped up to the door of his house, what was odd was the sound of laughter coming from inside. Curious, he opened the door to find his wife laughing with who he presumed were Taylor’s parents. “And then she told the guy, ‘listen asshole, if you’re looking to have your car shipped back in pieces so you can fix it yourself, we’ll be happy to oblige!’” Taylor's mother roared into more hearty laughter. With raised eyebrows he watched his wife nearly rolling off the sectional and landing on the floor as he gently closed the door. James quickly identified the reason for the lack of stress in the house, two large near empty bottles of alcohol were sitting on the coffee table. He could not deny they were on the right track for escaping the terrible circumstances they were facing; however, he could not help but feel disappointed in his wife. Helen sat up coughing as she reached for one of the bottles and took a sip from it, finally noticing her husband standing by the door, arms crossed.

“Babe!” She said far too loudly drawing Taylor’s parents’ attention to him. She stumbled as she stood up and exaggeratingly gestured to the man and woman, “this… this is Scott and Sammy! Briggies, this is my Taylor to our Mori!” Helen lost her balance and fell back into the couch giggling to herself. Both Scott and Samantha looked at each other and back to Helen.

“What?!” they said simultaneously and went into their own fits of laughter. James could only shake his head as he finally entered the living room and went straight for one of the bottles. Chugging what remained in it; the burning sensation that snaked its way down his throat and settled in his stomach eased some of the days’ worth of tension that was built up.

Helen scooted over closer to Scott and Sammy to give her husband room as he set the bottle down. “Just as bad for you huh?” Helen slurred as she and the Briggs watched James carefully. Falling into the couch, he did his best to settle down comfortably as he thought about how to answer the question.

“Let’s see: my wife got suspended, got stuck on crowd control looking for two terrorists, which granted the Eskarii is one respectively. Watched them kill two police officers in self defense, watched our daughter murder a marine in cold blood and become a terrorist herself; Oh! And apparently our daughter is a mage too!” James exasperated dramatically with a flail of his arms.

Helen blew a raspberry with her lips in a laugh, “pbbbt! What?!”

James's serious expression remained firm as he looked his wife dead in the eyes, which sobered her quickly. “Oh shit, you are serious… how in the hell? Neither of us have mage bloodlines?” she unintentionally asked the room as she looked from James to the Briggs.

“She said she could explain… but never had the chance to explain. All I know is she used her powers to kill…” James said with a hint of disbelief.

Helen threw her hands up in surrender as she fell back into the couch, the revelation too much for her mind to process properly, “good for her!”

“What?” James gave his wife an incredulous look. Even Scott and Samantha looked at her like she had grown a second head.

Even in her drunken state, she knew what she said was blasphemous when it came to the household’s morality. Helen and James always instilled a sense of justice and common ground morality especially when it came to Morrigan. However, given the current state of affairs in the city, morality was out the window and had fallen 12 stories.

She cracked a smile that turned heads farther in confusion, but answered all the same, “we've all seen what the Federation is doing out there! We watched a gunship shoot down a news helicopter and run down civilians. James, you had to have seen the same shit!” she looked pointedly at her husband, who shrunk in admitted exhaustion. “This isn’t justice, this isn’t law. This is a world power flexing their… power! And our daughter is standing up against it rather than bending to its will! She’s no murderer, she’s defending herself and fighting everyone else. You, me, the Briggs and everyone inside and out of Denver. You know how she feels about the common person.”

“Taylor got taken so how can you say that?” Samantha asked as her husband grabbed her arm. Her question was more emotionally fueled than what could be considered comfortable. Helen did not pay it any mind though, feeling she was on a roll.

Helen held Sammy’s hurt stricken gaze, “as far as the Federation is concerned, Taylor is just another conscript. It was the safest option for him, and safest place for him…” she could see both of his parents lean to argue before she held up a hand, “listen, you know Taylor, he has always been one to rush to Mori’s defense. If he hadn’t been conscripted, do you really think he would be sitting at home? No. He would be out trying to find her and help her. Seeing as what they’re doing to any civilians caught out… with any luck he will be put in a non-combat position and will serve whatever time frame they give him then come home.”

James could see the gears turning in Taylor’s parents’ heads. The logic was not perfect, but it had merit and the truth behind it was sound. However, there was still the problem of their own daughter. “What about Morrigan?” he asked.

His wife slumped back in the couch, having burned out her energy with her mild tirade. She looked at the room in defeat and tears slowly welling up in her eyes, “I don’t know… we need to do something, but we can’t…”

ΩΩΩ

Morrigan and Torvil made their way to the storage hanger with little problem. She could not help but feel that luck was on their side when they had to cross the expansive tarmac in the moonlight, only to have dark clouds shroud the moon and giving them the cover they needed. Arriving at the hanger, Torvil found an access door between the hanger they needed and another next to it.

Morrigan stayed near the end of the alley as Torvil pulled a plasma torch out from one of the bags and used it to cut through the lock on the door. The light was blinding as he melted the lock into slag. Morrigan kept watch of the tarmac to make sure the bright light did not draw any attention to them, with the same luck she was thankful for, no one seemed to notice even though they were far from any of the marines. There was molten clang as the door pulled free, drawing her attention back to Torvil. He gave her a motion to follow as he put the plasma cutter away, leaving her in the alley for the moment.

Once she entered the hanger, she was greeted by a large, sleek black and gold starship. Calling it large was being generous in comparison to freighting starships and Federal starships, it was essentially comparing a high-tech bicycle compared to a tank. Regardless, it was the first starship she had seen up close and it was beautiful to her. She saw Torvil busy with a data slate underneath the ship and decided to join him, brushing her fingers against whatever she could reach, giving in to the giddy feeling of almost being away from the city and the zealot Amaranthe. “What are you doing?” she asked.

His fingers tapped the screen rapidly as he replied, “bypassing the ship’s security. Go and open the hanger doors.” Normally she would have found him giving him orders annoying, but she was almost on cloud nine.

Come on kid, all this hopeful happiness is making my stomach queasy.

Morrigan smirked as she moved across the hanger to the control box to the left of the massive steel double door. “First off, you don’t have a stomach. Second, fuck you and deal with it.”

Hahaha aw, my little reaper is extra snarky when she's happy.

“Little reaper?” she questioned as she inspected the mechanism. It was the only panel near the gate, so it had to be the controls for the door. She grabbed onto the lever and gave it a tug. However, it did not budge. She growled in annoyance when she saw a massive lock underneath the side of the lever that kept it from being moved.

Oh yes, you’re becoming quite proficient in my power, soon you’ll be the reaper of all things… take this lock for example, cut it off.

Morrigan scrutinized the lock and turned to go grab the plasma cutter, only to be stopped by Apollyon. What do you think you’re doing?

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Um.. Going to get the plasma cutter?” she replied sheepishly in her head.

Pfft, have you not heard a word I’ve fucking said over the last 24 hours?

Morrigan ground her teeth at Apollyon’s attitude. “well yeah…”

Then you know damn well you don’t need some bullshit tool to rip the lock off.

Morrigan let out an irritated huff and stepped up to the lock and gave it a hard tug to no avail. She crossed her arms and sneered, “okay wise guy, how the hell am I to get it off?”

Isn’t it obvious? Call on the power.

Morrigan took a deep breath, annoyed that this was of all times Apollyon decided to train her how to use her power. She closed her eyes and did her best to focus deep inside herself and call to the destructive power Apollyon had gifted her.

After what felt like an eternity standing there, she could hear the crackle of energy. Opening her eyes to see her right hand that she held up was now wreathing in crimson energy. “Okay now what?”

Now tell it your intentions, and let it do the rest.

With that she focused an entire cinematic concept of what it is she wanted to do. She watched carefully as the chaotic energy coalesced into a spectral clawed hand that overlay hers. She remembered what happened last time in the cavern when she subconsciously called the power and it enveloped her hand. Reaching up she put two clawed fingers through the lock and wrapped the rest of her fingers around it and gave a sharp tug. She was greeted with the sound of metal sheering as the lock broke in her hand, leaving just the steel bar dangling from the bracket. She was surprised how little effort that took to pull the lock off, only to be surprised even more once the magic dissipated from her arm and the weight of the large padlock became more noticeable.

Morrigan chuckled as she dropped the chunk of steel and grabbed the metal bar that blocked the lever’s path and slide it out, tossing it across the hanger. A hiss and thud turned her attention to the ship as she saw Torvil finally getting the access ramp open. With a grin she grabbed the lever and yanked it down.

What she had not expected was the flashing lights and blaring alarm that sounded as the heavy metal doors began to separate. “Shit!” had come from behind her as she turned to see Torvil sprint up the stairs leading into the starship. Before she could move a voice burst over the speakers.

“Attention, you are in violation of Federation enacted Martial Law. Cease activity and wait with your hands up for arrest. Any acts of resistance will be met with lethal force.”

Unsure what to do, Morrigan dared a peek out of the slowly opening hanger doors to see the gunship that had been patrolling coming full speed followed by three tanks and a smaller armored vehicle.

She began to panic; it seemed their luck had finally run out. “Torvil! We have incoming!” she screamed as she turned to run into the starship that began to start up.

“Buy us time, use the rocket launcher!” Torvil's voice seemed just as worried over the speaker system in the hanger. She was halfway to the stairs that led into the ship as she spotted the bags Torvil had been carrying. She grabbed the long duffle bag and dragged it towards the nose of the ship before unzipping the bag, producing the heavy weapon. She had no idea how to operate a rocket launcher, but lucky for her, there were instructions stamped into the body of it. Quickly following the instructions she pulled a safety pin, slammed the three round magazine into the receiver and listened to it automatically load the first rocket and took the kneeling stance that was stamped into it. She prayed to whatever gods there were she did not blow herself up as she looked through the scope. To her delight, a series of red squares encircled the fast-approaching gunship before placing a single square over it, flashing the word “lock” above it. It was a guided launcher she realized as a grin crept over her face, placing her finger on the trigger and bracing herself.

A rocket screamed from the barrel as the launcher nearly bucked out of her hands and arced gracefully towards the gunship that banked to avoid the rocket, only to have the rocket turn to follow and slam into one of the side engines. Morrigan watched as the pilot did their best to stabilize the ship, the problem being was that the gunship was falling out of the sky directly towards the hanger. In a panic she shouldered the launcher again and pleaded for the targeting system to lock on fast. In the split second she had, she deemed it too slow and pulled the trigger. Fortunately, the launcher dumb fired the second rocket which arced directly into the falling gunship.

That did the trick as the shockwave of the exploding gunship knocked her on her ass. “Fucking hell,” she said as the gunship had stopped midair and its heavy ordinance was set off by the second rocket, tearing the ship apart in a fiery explosion. There was no time for celebration though as three distant explosions sounded off, causing a dull whooshing sound as three tank shells slammed into the hanger. Two had hit the outer shell of the hanger that was strong enough to withstand it, but the third shell smashed into the opposite interior wall shredding machinery and supplies, showering both Morrigan and the ship in debris.

“Get on! We're leaving!” Torvil ordered as the ship kicked off a foot from the ground and retracted its landing gears. She rushed to stand up and found the access hatch and stairs were still open and leapt into them as the ship began to rise slightly higher.

Entering the ship, she quickly found a latch that she could flip, which brought the stairs into the ship and slid a sealed door over the opening, sealing the space craft.

She fell on her butt trying to breath steadily only to be thrown into the wall as Torvil jerked the ship forward. She growled as she pushed herself off the wall and forced herself to her feet. As well as the night had been, it was ending pretty poorly as far as she was concerned. She stumbled again as she felt the ship rock violently for a moment and hearing a concussive noise come from the outside.

She grunted and groaned as she made her way to the cockpit, bracing herself along the way. The good part was the bridge that connected the cockpit to the rest of the ship was small enough to where she could hold onto something, downside was the cockpit was equally as small with only one seat. Finally taking the second to look around, the ship was definitely luxury, with bone white accents along sleek black panels and gold filigree all over the place. She would have appreciated it more had the shield not flared as Torvil began exciting the hanger. “We are lucky the owner sprung for the kinetic shield!” he said with a modicum of amusement. Without warning Torvil pushed down the throttle and nearly threw Morrigan down the bridge as the ship lurched forward violently, launching them clear of the hanger as three tank shells passed underneath them. Morrigan held onto the seat with a death grip as Torvil banked and weaved, clearly enjoying himself.

“Do you mind!” she all but screamed into his ear.

She watched the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. “Right, there should be seats in the lounge. I will steady the ship until you can settle in.”

She responded with a grunt, deciding it was just her luck to be stuck with a joyrider. Torvil however, stabilized the ship as promised allowing her to make her way back into the main area of the ship which was built in a circular design. Going the opposite direction of the entrance, she found on the other side of the inner wall was a massive lounge suite with stationary ottoman, sofas attached the walls, what she presumed to be a bar with stools and a holoscreen. She noted the sofa had built in harnesses and prayed they were merely for safety and not other things. As good as a strong drink sounded, she knew Torvil would not hold out much longer now that he had a new toy to play with.

Almost like a sixth sense, the ship rocked sharply, nearly tossing her from her feet as she dove onto the sofa and grabbed the straps. “Hey!”

The response she got was not optimal, “Federation fighters!” Morrigan let a slew of curses as she buckled herself in as fast as she could. Meanwhile the ship started lurching left and right as Torvil dodged enemy fire.

“Get us out of here Torvil!” she yelled, not sure if the speaker system was two-way. This is the part she hated the most, being stuck strapped to a couch unable to do anything while her life was in the hands of someone else. The inability to fend for herself pissed her off to no end and scared her to death.

Torvil strafed and weaved his way between most of the enemy fire except the two fighters on their tail were relentless and each shot that struck the shield caused the ship to lurch. Morrigan heard of variety of Eskarii cursing over the speakers and began to fear they would not be able to escape. “Can we warp out of here?” She called out.

“No that would kill us, but I have a bad idea,” he replied.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, daring to ask what that plan was until she hear something power down in the ship. Not knowing anything about starships, she panicked at what the Eskarii could have possibly done. Before a word could slip from her mouth, she felt all momentum shift and she was pressed into the couch painfully as she felt the vibrations of the engines intensify to terrifying levels.

Morrigan tried to fight the increased pressure as Torvil jerked the controls and sent the craft into a brief spin that threatened to bring the minimal contents of her stomach up. As much as she hated their situation, she had to trust Torvil to shake the Federation and get them safely out of the atmosphere, though the sudden jerking of the ship was truly making her resent him. His various cursing did not help at all either and made her hope shrivel to hopelessness.

“Pah’sk!” came clearly over the speakers followed by a heavy sigh. She did not know what it meant, but she had a few guesses that did not bode well. To solidify that fact, there was a sudden shift in momentum and gravity as the distinct vibrations around her became silent. Morrigan only had a moment to look around the room before Torvil’s sullen voice surrounded her, “I am sorry Swyn'wyr…”

Morrigan's heart broke at the implication, however, for only a moment she also felt transcendent bliss. In the end she knew she put up the best fight she could, even failing she was happy that she was never in the hands of the Federation. All the hate she spread and how hard she pushed for people to stand up for themselves, perhaps her death would be what triggered the revolution she truly wanted to see. Maybe, just maybe, her life would mean more in death than it did in life; the spark that ignited the fire that was humanity’s resolve, that persistent drive to overcome obstacles and consume everything around it like the inferno humanity could be, hopefully burying the mages and their Federation in the ashes. A girl could hope right?

There was the sound of a small explosion outside the starship, followed by the deafening shriek of tearing metal and rushing wind as a missile punched into the junction between the bridge and body of the craft and split the ship in two. Morrigan screamed as she clutched her harness as she watched the majority of the ship tear away from her. The wind drown out her voice as the remains of the ship began to plummet back to Earth. Morrigan fought to stay conscious as she continuously watched the ground periodically get closer as what remained of the ship she was strapped to spun in a free fall and all she could do was raise her arms in a desperate attempt to protect herself as the ground approached at breakneck speed. Her world turned crimson as she heard the crumple of metal and bones break before everything faded to black.