Health Spirit Supply Momentum 5 4 5 5
“Overseer,” I said, “Where’s Bonfire’s comm?”
You fucked it up already? Wow.
“Not now.”
Gather information: weak hit
She is on deck four, quadrant three, room seventy six. Her comm indicates she is in severe distress.
Shit.
“Okay, okay, err. Right.”
I hopped onto the transport vehicle and revved it up to its top speed, prepared to tear through the halls.
Face Danger: Weak hit
“Oy! Slow down!” Someone in a staff uniform yelled after me as I pushed the vehicle as fast as it would go out of the hangar.
“Sorry!” I yelled back, not sorry at all.
Deck four, deck four… I needed to find the cargo lift.
Face danger: Weak hit
There! But the doors were about to close.
“Hold it!” I yelled, unable to keep the panic from my voice.
Face Danger: Miss w/ a match
Burn Momentum: Strong Hit w/ a match
Someone held the doors, and I slotted the transport in neatly.
“Where’s the fire, young man?” Someone joked.
Too panicked to think of an excuse, I said, “I think my client’s in trouble.”
“Dear gods, what floor? We’ll send the lift there first.”
“Deck four.”
“Should we alert security?”
I shook my head, “No, thank you.”
“Alright, be careful!” They said as the doors slid open and I steered the transport out.
Face Danger: Strong Hit
I powered down the corridor, engine revving , swerving around corners and shocked passers-by.
Face Danger: Strong Hit
Section three seemed to be some kind of crew quarters, but I ignored all the signs saying ‘authorised personnel only and sped towards room seventy six.
Face Danger: Weak hit
I stopped outside the door and pressed my ear to it, straining to get an idea of what was going on inside.
Secure an Advantage: Miss
Inside was total silence.
Nothing else for it - I pressed the open button.
Resolve Scene: Strong Hit
Bonfire, unconscious, blood sluicing brownish red from several cuts on her face. A smashed bottle. A man dressed in white leather, sickly pale complexion hidden under thick black tattoos.
Familiar enough to raise goosebumps.
This was the closest I had been to a Spherie in years.
Lux.
Enter The Fray: Miss
He launched himself at me, a flash of something metallic at his hand.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
React Under Fire: Weak Hit
I managed to dodge out of his way, but something snagged on my arm, biting into flesh. I cried out as red bloomed from a tear in my jacket, heat soaking the fabric of my fly suit.
Endure Harm: Strong Hit
I bit down and rounded on him, fueled by the stinging pain as I launched myself towards him, grappling for where I’d seen the knife.
Clash: Strong Hit
I wrapped my fingers around it, struck at his face with my elbow.
Strike: Weak Hit
It hit, his jaw crunching with the impact, his fingers slackening around the knife. I snatched it, but I’d left myself open and he clawed at my face.
React Under Fire: Miss
Another silvery flash. The knife wasn't his only weapon - on his hand he wore a delicate exoskeleton, finely engraved with the complex pattern of interlocking circles that marked Spherie memorabilia, each finger tipped with a jagged steel blade
Steel blades currently sinking into the flesh of my forehead, tearing a white-hot line of agony. Blood poured down my face, blinding me in one eye.
Endure Harm: Weak hit
Desperation reared up within me. I couldn’t die here – I had shit to do. I was going to die if I didn’t do something to change this. Fast.
I shifted my attention to my fingertips, I could feel the embers sparking.
React Under Fire: Weak hit
Endure Stress: Weak hit
A lifetime ago, I had stood beside a man dressed very similarly to this one. He told me that, because of what I could do, I was special.
I didn't believe him. No mining brat born on a Quint planet ever thinks they're worth more than the toxic shit their parents shovel out of the ground. No, I wasn't special. But the man hadn't beaten me. Hadn't hurt me. Hadn't even starved me.
I wasn't special, but I'd thought at the very least I was safe.
How cruel a lie that had been.
I let the flames rip free.
Clash: Weak Hit
Endure Stress: Weak Hit
Orange heat swelled, bright and fast, devouring, consuming. It caught Lux’s jacket, caught the carpet, caught the bed.
Flesh burning. I waited for the screams. The shrieks of pain.
They didn’t come.
There was just the hiss of the sprinklers. The sizzle of cool water hitting charred flesh.
Steam swelled up from the utterly motionless figure of Lux, leather charred away to reveal skin smoked black and pink.
And then his shoulders started to tremble.
He looked up, and I saw a broad grin pasted across his face. Laughter. He was laughing.
“Y’know,” he said, “I thought this was going to be just like all the other times. Take out the bitch those idiots sent after me. Be on my way, but… well.” His eyes gleamed, “You’ve proven me quite wrong. Paragon.”
I felt sick.
“Don’t call me that.” I couldn’t make my voice louder than a whisper. Thick, choking black smoke.
He laughed. “What, Paragon?”
“I said don’t.”
“Paragon, paragon, paragon!”
In the corner, Bonfire was starting to stir. Her eyes halfway open, bleary.
“I can’t wait to get you back home, the others will be so pleased!”
I launched myself at him, flames tearing free from my palms, “Shut up!”
Clash: Weak Hit
Endure Stress: Weak hit
His laughter only grew as he caught me, grabbed my wrists and pulled the gouts of flame closer to his face, “It would be an honour, Paragon, to die under your flames!”
“No!” I tried to wrestle away but he was stronger than me and the flames wouldn’t stop coming. A bite of steel at my wrist. Pain and blood soaked my arm but still the flames didn’t stop.
Clash: Weak Hit
Endure Harm: Miss
I screamed, spasming in pain and trying to tear away. We fell to the floor, claws biting deeper into my wrist.
Fire spurted once more from my fingers, but I couldn’t control where it went.
Clash: Weak Hit
Endure Stress: Miss
It sprayed across the room. Not just the room where we fought, but the room from before. Helpless as my power was guided, not for me, but for them.
A black sphere. Blood spilled. The knowledge that I was next.
With a scream, I wrenched an arm free, fingers slick with blood, found the knife.
Clash: Weak Hit
Endure Stress:Miss
We rolled, I got Lux pinned beneath me but he was still laughing. His eyes were clouded white, lids singed black. Burned skin and blood stuck to everything they touched. My uninjured hand shook violently as I swung it round, wrestled it to his neck.
“Stop it.” I hissed, “I don’t want to kill you!”
His grin turned manic, he leaned into the knife, tip resting in the hollow of his throat, “Don’t worry my Paragon, I would never make you do something like that.”
He grabbed my wrist, the one holding the knife, and let his smile turn serene. “It was an honour to be burned by your flames,” he said, then, sat up with a jerk, ramming the blade several inches into his own throat.
Health Spirit Supply Momentum Burdens 0 0 5 -2 Wounded, shaken