Eleanor:

Did we do well? Did we do horribly? I don't have a clue.

They sat silently, a weak fireball from the Treasurer casting enough light to see around them. The bench they were sitting on was lower since they had used the top row of blocks to close off the access hole to the funnel.

The Treasurer carefully placed the notebook with the battle plans back on his lap and smoothed out the front page. It had creased during the mad scramble to block the access way. In truth, all the adults present knew almost all the plans forward and backwards. It was just a prop to make them feel more secure.

A commotion from outside, muffled through the walls and from the accessway to the fighting room, broke the silence.

Shit, the next attack.

"Evereena, get ready!"

"Lena! The strings have moved!" said Becky, pointing to where some weights were jerking up and down, "It's A3 and B7!"

The Treasurer flipped the notepad to show its back cover, which had the mapping of the string numbers.

"Esther, pass it on, tunnel right above the fighting room!" said the Treasurer.

He hurriedly raised his voice to speak directly to Esther without even bothering to get Eleanor's approval.

No one, not then and not afterwards, realised that this was the first time and would be the last time he would ever directly command anything on his own authority in any active situation involving the kingdom.

Eleanor faintly heard Evereena passing the information on to the Misfits in the fighting room.

"Eleanor, this is the best chance." said the Treasurer.

Shit. Shit. Shit. This is sending Frannie and Reggie to their certain deaths!

I can't do it!

The Treasurer hesitated a second, then spoke.

"Sorry, Eleanor. But you must start the plan. It's the only chance we have."

It's not you who is going to die. But...

She didn't hesitate any more.

"Esther, tell them, plan D. Plan D!"

Her voice carried to Esther, and Eleanor heard her shout the message to Evereena, who passed it on to the people in the fighting room.

However, Eleanor had no chance to reflect on what she had just done.

"Lena! More strings are moving!" said Mason, pointing excitedly at weights on his side, "C5. And B2!"

The treasurer half jumped off his bench before glancing back at the mapping of the string numbers.

"Oh shit, it's right above us!" he said.

Eleanor didn't need to consult the plans for the following action.

"Esther, get Evereena out now! Lena, get out your damn ladle! The others, get the swords!"

She materialised her throwing knife.

A throwing knife is not much use here, but it's all I've got.

Both Esther and the Treasurer were now holding steel swords. Not bonded swords, since they had none, but actual steel swords. Not really the best, but what else could they do?

Evereena popped out of the accessway. The two children were then pushed into it, facing towards the command centre, and Evereena picked up a concrete block that was just the right shape and size to plug the hole. That way, any slaves that got in would not immediately see where the children were.

The muffled noises from outside were abruptly argumented by closer, more immediate, noises from their ceiling.

They must be hacking through the ceiling concrete blocks. And the ceiling reinforcing rods.

Fragments of the ceiling started falling, and the noise skyrocketed.

They are attacking it with as much violence as they can generate!

The bashing sound increased to a crescendo, and a chunk of concrete and rock, plus fragments of steel bars, were ejected and slammed down onto the floor. Everybody inside jumped back as far as possible, which was just as well since an arm appeared, thrusting violently downward, holding a sword. Doing so, the slave slashed himself on the edge of a bit of rebar poking out, sending a spray of blood out. Without the slightest attempt at protecting himself, the slave tried to poke his head out and slash his sword around. The Treasurer managed to block the sword on its initial swing - then the slave went limp. His bonded sword disappeared, and the blood stopped flowing out.

"Got the bastard!" said Evereena.

Say, is Evereena maybe just a touch ruthless? It must come from years of being raped.

There was no respite in the violence since the dead slave was yanked back just enough to allow some other slave to appear, trying to thrust a spear down. Lena had already wound herself up to swing her ladle because of the first slave; she merely continued the arc of her ladle, its heavy head hitting the man's hand. There was a scream as he dropped the spear, followed by silence as he stopped moving.

"Another!" said Evereena.

In the now calmness of the Central Command Centre, there was still the muffled sounds of fighting from outside. But, inside, all was still. A dead man's arm protruding from a hole in the ceiling, with another dead man's face just visible behind it. On the floor was a puddle of blood.

"Ugh," said Eleanor.

After a couple of seconds, Eleanor's Battle Field Management skill kicked in.

"OK! Lena, push up those bodies with your ladle. The others, hand me the smaller spare blocks."

Using her new super strength, Lena placed the business end of the ladle to catch the weight of both bodies, then pushed them right back. Everybody else moved as fast as possible, packing the space full of blocks. Finally, Eleanor held up a centimetre-thick sheet of steel, a metre in diameter, which just happened to be waiting in one corner. Lena dismissed her ladle, and Eleanor slid the sheet across to block the hole. Then the others braced it into place with crisscrossing steel bars, whose ends rested in conveniently placed grooves in the walls.

They didn't rest; there was no time.

Evereena yanked out the stone plug hiding the two children, then gently but rapidly pulled them out. She pushed herself in, with Esther pushing her by her feet to speed her up. Evereena got her head up to the eyehole and looked at what was happening on the other side.

Bronsen:

Going back to the start of the ceiling invasion:

As planned, Frannie, Reggie and Hestia were in the Circular room, with Bronsen and Alice as bodyguards. Everybody else was out on the landing, waiting.

"Invasion from the ceiling!" shouted Evereena from within the wall.

So, the Emperor did get the tunnelling option. Was it to balance the fact that Drayden and Cassy had it?

He waved to get Frannie's and Reggie's attention, then pointed his sword towards the ceiling. The agreed-upon signal since, of course, he couldn't tell them. At the same time, Alice relayed the verbal message to the outside, where Cassy also made the same signal, thus informing Jane and co. Just in time because another group of slaves came running down the stairs to fight them.

The sounds of clashing steel closely followed the noise of thumping feet outside on the landing.

Added to this was the sound of breaking rock from almost above them.

"This is probably the best bet for the you-know-what-scenario," said Bronsen, speaking to Alice.

"Yeah," said Alice. She didn't look too happy about it.

At this point, they heard Evereena shout out, Plan D.

"What do you know, Eleanor agrees." said Bronsen, "Plan D for Death Pact."

Both Misfits materialised their swords and momentarily touched them together. The agreed upon sign.

The three others saw this, looked at each other for a long moment, then turned to the Misfits and nodded. With that, they positioned themselves so Frannie was visible from the entrance but as far away from the ceiling noises as possible.

This is terrible. But I gotta do it.

Alice kept looking to the front, waiting for one of the other Misfits to look back. When Cassy did, she again touched her sword momentarily to Bronsen's. Cassy acknowledged and then did her part by calling out - "Bronsen and Alice, we need help here!"

Shit. I'm leaving Frannie and Reggie and maybe Hestia to die. But there is no choice.

Stolen novel; please report.

So Bronsen turned his head away from Frannie's impending fight and raced to the front to join the others in repelling the eight Blues that had just arrived. Alice followed right after that.

Hestia:

She watched in morbid fascination as the ceiling started to crumble and fragments started to fall. First, there was dust from small cracks, then larger pieces, then big chunks. And the noise was deafening. Someone was using a sledgehammer with immense energy.

They must be fully maxed out, just like the Misfits have made us!

The last big chunk flew out of the hole and crashed onto the floor, sending dust and small bits of gravel everywhere. Closely followed by a blue-collared slave, who fell out head first, tucked his head in, managed to do a roll in mid-air, and landed mostly on his feet. He slipped and hit the ground with his back, cutting it open on some of the debris, but this didn't slow down his actions. Even as he got up, he slashed at Reggie with his sword. Reggie blocked, then blocked again as the slave got up and found his footing.

His sword-fighting ability is outstanding. It's way better than mine.

So, do I help?

She thrust her sword out as fast as she could. However, she knew perfectly well that, despite her maxed status, she was no match for an expert. The slave easily parried but had to step back, giving Reggie a small respite.

Frannie was also fighting - another slave had fallen from the ceiling and was going all out to kill her without the slightest regard for his own safety.

Those damn collars - he must have been ordered to kill Eleanor at all costs. He has already cut himself from the ends of the broken rebar as they came through, but that is not slowing him down the slightest.

At this point, Bronsen, who had been fighting out front but had positioned himself at the rear and keeping track of the action in the fighting room, realised it was time.

"Hestia, we need you here!"

Which Hestia didn't understand at all. But Bronsen accompanied his shout by putting both hands to his neck - the agreed-upon sign for this situation.

Damn. I can't even say goodbye since they wouldn't understand it.

Nevertheless, she turned away and joined Bronsen. Which meant there were nine of them fighting the eight slaves. It appeared that everyone in this fight was not being too reckless, as there were no casualties yet.

Frannie:

Looks like this is it. Me and Reggie. Together to the last.

How I hated it all.

I never got to be with Reggie.

She let the anger and rage envelop her, propelled by a decade and more of abuse; she stood side to side with her man and fought the two slaves.

Of course, too much anger and rage is bad for fighting with maximum efficiency. But she didn't care, not to mention that the two slaves were better at sword fighting than she and Reggie.

She blocked a thrust and tried to counterattack. But the slave was faster and avoided her blade. She stepped smartly back to avoid a slash -

Hey, Jane's training is effective.

But he moved forward just as fast and was in her face. Reggie, seeing this, tried to hit him, but the other slave took the opening and cut Reggie across his sword arm.

"Reggie!" screamed Frannie.

It was all over in the next two seconds.

Ding! You have died. Good work!

Well, thanks. I suppose?

Reggie:

Ding! You have died! Good work!

I guess this is the best that we could do.

Evereena:

At this point, Evereena had pushed herself back into the access tunnel, put her head right up to the eyehole, and looked at what was happening on the other side.

Oh. They have just killed Frannie and Reggie.

Oh shit, that slave has just stabbed Frannie again. To make sure that she was dead.

The little shit...

She was going to Insta-Death him but stopped in time.

She remembered all of her training sessions.

If she did kill them, the other slaves would know that there was another access hole. Also, they would realise that she was still alive, which meant that they might go all out and hack out the accessway and kill anyone inside.

She clenched her fists but stayed herself. She watched until both slaves turned towards the entrance. And then picked up a waiting plug and put it into the eye hole. She flicked her feet up and down, and Esther yanked her out.

There was more furious activity as Lena and Eleanor dismantled the remains of the bench seat, shoving the blocks into the accessway. They fit exactly, as designed. Then, the Treasurer slid the locking bars into their brackets, thus holding the blocks in place.

Eleanor:

There was silence in their command centre. The sounds of the continued fighting outside were muffled and faint.

Eleanor sat on the ground - the blocks from the bench seat having been completely used up in blocking the accessways - and allowed herself to be hugged by Lena. The two children sat on the other side of Lena, with Evereena right in front of them. Esther was next to Evereena, hugging her. This also meant that Esther was right in front of Eleanor due to the cramped quarters.

On the other side of Eleanor, pressing against the wall to give a bit of space to Eleanor and Esther, was the Treasurer, still holding the battle plans.

"Well, I guess this is it," said Eleanor.

Nobody said anything.

Eleanor opened the bag that was hanging off her waist. The bag that she had carefully kept with her the entire time.

She took out a slave collar.

The one that the Misfits had brought back with them.

She looked at it. It looked like a black rope with catches at either end. It felt soft to her touch.

It makes sense, I suppose. After all, the slaves wear it all their lives. If it weren't soft and flexible, it would wear out the slave's skin something terrible.

Eleanor, stop procrastinating.

She took it out, held it up, looped it over her head, and clipped the two ends of the collar together. It turned grey.

This feels absolutely horrible.

Black sludge enveloped her status points. Black claws, dripping with paralysing venom, grasped her mind, squeezing out every last trace of free will and agency.

This is what my little toddler felt.

This is hell.

After a while, the collar released the pressure a little. Eleanor had the vague compulsion to listen and memorise any orders.

But, of course, none were available.

She regained some control and noticed that Lena was holding her tight. She managed to cover Lena's hands with her own.

She waited for whatever might happen.

The Treasurer:

He let the battle plans fall out of his hands, and the pages spill onto the floor.

There is nothing left to do.

Was my being here actually of any use?

Everybody knew the plans by heart.

I suppose I managed to encourage Eleanor to initiate plan D when she momentarily faltered.

I guess there is that.

But, apart from that, I was pretty useless, wasn't I?

And now we wait.

For a totally sketchy and iffy plan to work.

There are so many ways for it to fail.

We don't know if it could ever work, even in theory.

Bloody hell, I should have run when I had the chance.

This sucks.

Cassy:

Eight slaves on the upside steps. Cassy and eight others on the landing and the downside stairs.

According to the plan, the Misfits were expendable. Only not quite yet.

Which is why the four of them were towards the back. Hestia was with them; after all, she wasn't all that crash-hot at sword fighting either.

Jane was in the front row, with Aragon next to her and Adrian and Jacob currently slightly behind them.

Everybody was fighting exceptionally carefully.

The Emperor must have explicitly told them not to go all out. He probably doesn't want the chance of losing any more slaves.

The slaves were taking turns to fight. In the limited area, four would attack, Jane and co would counter, then the four would retreat and allow the other four to attack. Not that it worked out precisely like this all the time, but in general. Meanwhile, Jane and the other three had to take the brunt of this, with a tiny bit of support from the Misfits.

There was a moment when a slave managed to get their blade under Aragon's at the same time that another slave thrust right at him.

Oh no, you don't!

Cassy launched forward, managing to get her blade past Aragon without cutting him, and thrust it right in the face of one of the slaves. Unfortunately, he had plenty of warning and skipped back. Bronsen, using his longer reach, tried to stab the other slave, but again, the slave was faster and reversed direction. Cassy dematerialised her sword to avoid hitting Aragon and stepped back.

Oh bloody hell, this is as dangerous as all hell; one of these moments, I'm going to kill one of my friends.

She noticed Hestia to the side and back a bit; she was too far back to add much to the fighting, but she was monitoring what was happening in the fighting room. Then, Hestia made an inarticulated yell as she pointed to the room.

Cassy took a quick look.

Yep, Frannie and Reggie are down and almost definitely dead. And those two slaves are coming at us. And, shit, they do not appear to be holding back in any way.

OK, Operation Fake Defeat it is.

"No! Eleanor is dead! What do we do now!"

She tried to get as much anguish and terror into her voice as possible.

This is embarrassing. I really don't have any acting abilities. But, on the other hand, Frannie and Reggie are dead. Just channel feelings from that.

Hestia scuttled past and down the steps to the landing, then folded up on the ground with her hands around her knees.

In other words, looking inoffensive, helpless, and overwhelmed.

Is the Emperor going to be stupid enough to fall for this? On the other hand, his ego must be enormous; in the last thirty years, he has never had anyone counteract him.

Bronsen joined the acting troupe. "The queen is dead! No! I don't want to die also!"

Maybe Alice decided to tone it down a little in case the Emperor got too suspicious. All she said was: "Shit!"

Drayden was the one who said the crucial words. "Maybe we should give up and become slaves!"

Let's hope the Emperor doesn't realise that that was one of the Misfits speaking since he has probably by now worked out that we can never be enslaved.

Jane:

Ah, the Misfits are producing a lot of garbled sounds.

Jane and the other three realised what was going on as soon as they heard the shouts from the Misfits. Of course, they didn't know what they were saying, but they had all practised this beforehand.

Jane flicked a glance towards the fighting room.

Yep, they're dead. And two extra slaves coming at us. It's time for a strategic retread.

The two slaves called out something, but Jane didn't know what it was.

The Misfits had already gone down the steps. And one or the other would occasionally be producing more garbled sounds.

That's them, begging to be spared and to be collared. Let's hope the Emperor thinks it is coming from us as well.

Jane and the other three pointed their swords out to produce a defensive line while retreating. The extra two slaves slowed down but still had their swords out. The slaves on the upside stairs bunched up and moved down, but cautiously.

Bloody hell, it's working. So far. I hope they don't slaughter us as soon as we drop our guard.

As planned, the Misfits withdrew to a compact group on one side of the lower landing, squashing themselves up to the remaining boxes of supplies. Hestia stayed where she was, and Jane and the other three clumped up as a group two steps above the landing. With their swords dismissed and trying to look as defeated and lost as possible.

But we're still on the alert!

The Emperor:

He had heard the Misfits lamenting the death of their queen.

He couldn't resist; he scrambled down the two landings, then couched down and looked at the landing that opened to the internal room.

He saw the two tunnellers come out.

Only two? What happened to the other two?

At this point, those two slaves called out that the queen was killed.

Yes!

I win!

He turned around and was about to tell the Green, who was as always following right behind him, to call down more slaves. But -

Ding! You have not yet won the fight, so you cannot call down any more slaves.

What? But Eleanor is dead... Ah! I see; the Misfits are still alive.

He looked down again.

The snivelling cowards. Serves them right for putting their trust in a woman of all things. It must have made them so weak.

So, no problems!

"Stop fighting unless they attack! And collar everyone except the Misfits. Don't touch the Misfits!"

Jane:

She watched ten slaves, with ten swords, pointing at them.

This is the worst thing I have ever done.

She knelt and did her best to grovel as if she were in abject fear of being killed.

I could fight off at least two of those shits...

Follow the plan for what it is worth.

This is a sickening thing to do. And, Oh crap, a slave is coming at me with a collar.

She clenched her hands to stay still, acting as if she had lost her will and had given up.

Right up to the point where the collar was clipped around her neck.

The reports were correct; this is the most horrible feeling possible.

She no longer had to act anything. She could no longer choose to do anything except wait for orders.