We Need a Deathworlder!

Chak hurries along the palace wall looking over the stonework for the very specific patch where the natural erosion of time differed.

“I’m certain it’s right around here.” She assures the others as she investigates.

“Not to rush ya hun, but there’s no fucking way our ambush went unnoticed.” Simone urged as she kept an eye up at the harassing aircraft. Waiting for one or two to turn in their exposed direction.

Nodding, Chak removed a gauntlet to start physically feeling the wall. This patch was done long before she or even her mother were born, but the stone used for it was freshly cut at the time for it. Meaning the far more weathered stone placed in the original construction of the palace has a certain coarseness to it, like sandpaper.

She recalls memories of her curious childhood self grazing her knuckles against exterior exposed walls and being suddenly surprised to feel a far more smoother area. Obviously over the years the many places within the palace have been replaced due to accidents, improving structural reinforcements and the process of time. However from this day on, the history logs will need to include ‘war and conflict’ to that list of reasons.

This place is meant to be a wonder, a beacon of Cali pride and prosperity, not a fortress housing corruption. The towers are meant for grandeur and stellar views, not to install gun emplacements.

Truely, even if peace is fully established again for her people, Chak knows that they will never be the same. They will have memories and logs of an otherwise beautiful and enriched history forever scarred by a ruthless dictator that’s too eager and cowardly to do anything but roll out the red carpet for the Manairian Empire.

With all this drive and energy to build armies and fleets to such unprecedented numbers, it all could have at least been done for the betterment of the galaxy rather than its undoing.

Her family didn't have to die for this.

“Found it!” she declares as she finally feels the smoother section of wall and points out where it starts and ends

“Perfect. I used all my explosives for the tower but…” Simone says as she comes up and punches a solid hit into the stone, creating a significant crack and indentation.

The Terran then stepped back with Chak as she waves the skimmer over.

“Hit it right there Tank-lad.” she directs.

“You got it!” Troy replies as he maneuvers the skittering vehicle to a more direct angle. With some finagling the Terran pilot manages to operate the Cali-centric controls to properly aim and prime the shot.

He calibrates the output, taking a bit of a guess on how thick the wall is and its density via how Simone’s powered punch affected it.

With a quick breath in the cramped space, he presses the ‘shot’ indicator and hopes his gut-work proves accurate.

The cannon expels in a blink of an eye, dead-on its target. A plume of dust and ash cloud out momentarily, but also seem to be slightly sucked into the other side by a temperature-chasing breeze.

“Lemme check it.” Simone says, indicating Troy to move the cannon away from the wall’s direction.

Once in the clear she moved up and pulled away any stubborn stone work still blocking the way ahead. Chak came up by her side and with her visor peered into the darkness.

“Oh… they converted the old servant tunnel into pantry storage… Did not know that.” she remarks as she skims her view over the once bountiful stored food products now rendered into pulverized mush and vapor.

“All the better for us, rather than them filling it up with cement or something.” Simone replies as she gives a thumbs up to the rest of their party.

But before she can say a word of instructing them to follow, the world becomes entirely hot and loud.

It must have only been a second or two before Simone blinks to a different visual of reality she was just seeing. Black ash clouding up into the sky disapear past, the edge of the freshly made pantry-hole. Her armor's systems blink in her visor showing red zones of compromise through her power armor, but there are no notification reports of actual injury to her person.

“Simone!” Chak cries out.

The redhead quickly sits up just as the Cali comes up to her side to help her back up.

“I’m okay…” she reports back as she looks out to see the result of a surprise attack from the sky with the skimmer toppled over and partially engulfed in dancing blue flames.

“Troy!” Simone calls out over the comm, but there’s no answer, “Troy!”

“There’s coming back again! Go-gogogo!” Meekie screams from wherever she is in this chaos Not a second after the entire space is lit up once again with another torrent of plasma.

Chak instinctively pulls on her Terran with all of her might, yanking her deeper into the tunnel before the roaring sounds of crumbling stones revermerates the very ground they stand on.

As they back away, the vire outside the hole they’ve created to breach the palace is darkened by crashing rocks and soot. The ceiling above them bends downwards, warning the two to run just before it gives way and collapses with enough rubble to start nearly filling the tunnel behind them.

Breaking through a quant wooden door with a firm thrust of her shoulder, Simone leads Chak into what appears to be a kitchen area before she feels safer of the structure's integrity. But instead of taking a moment to breathe she opens her comm back up.

“Troy? Meekie? Nodrin? Any of you picking this up?” She asks urgently.

There’s not a single answer from anyone.

Biting her cheek she looks to Chak and despite being right next to her tries the comm again.

“Are you able to hear my voice in the transmission? She questions.

Chak blinks, still recovering from what just happened, but then shakes her head as she processed the Terran’s inquiry.

“I hear your voice… but not through comms. They have us completely jammed in here.” the Queen replies before looking back to the ‘pantry’ door.

“Then they might have made it to cover.” Simone nods, taking that scrap of hope.

“But… what about Troy?” Chak asks hesitantly, before instantly regretting her own insensitivity.

Simone’s expression softens and she closes her eyes for a few moments.

“He probably didn’t make it.” she responds truthfully, “That looked bad… and although I’ve seen people make it out of worse…those were very few times.” The Terran resists the urge to cry and hardens back into her ‘soldier’ mindset, “We have to keep moving. More people die by the second.” She says before turning to leave the kitchens, but a Cali hand grasps hers tightly.

“Hope for the best, but expect the worst.” Chak chirps softly in the mantra Simone shared with her a while ago.

Simone looks back at her wife and nods.

“Damn right. Know where we’re going?” she says, still wanting to get a move on.

“Delegation room. It sits just behind the Throne plaza. There's an elevator there to the bunker my father should still hopefully be in.” Chak replies as she moves to take the lead away from where SImone guessed to go, “I know a way in via the servant tunnels. It’s a longer path with little room to maneuver, but with my father’s most loyal forces defending the palace with Fuddakk’s Claw, I suspect resistance will be too heavy to take on with just us present.”

“Smart.” Simone agrees as she follows, “You’re a natural at this, you know.”

“Oh, well, this is my home turf… my ‘stomping grounds’ as you’d put it.” Chak replies, managing to give the slightest bit of levity in the heavy emotional state both of them find themselves in.

-

“They made it inside, dearest.” Meekie reports, “Whether they are still alive or not is another question, however.”

She bunkers her head down from the smashed window and peers over her bondmate who has all four of their eyes lasered in on the burning skimmer.

“He’s still not responding, my cherished?” Meekie asks in deepening dread and grief.

Nodrin nods somberly.

“If we expose ourselves… we are likely to die. And he is very likely already gone…” they say as their chitters choke up to the reality of the situation.

Knowing what’s to come next, the two remove their helmets and press their lightly singed bodies up against each other as their tails weave tightly.

“This life has been beyond what any language could strive to describe, and that’s all because of you, my completion of my being, the most important element of my existence.” Meekie starts to say, but it quickly turns to crying, “We are one of mind and action, never to be apart ever again.”

Nodrin’s muscles tense up as they take a staggering inward breath through their neck vents.

“‘Purpose’ pales to how you fulfill me. Whether by chance or guidance of the spirits, us coming together to share our lives is a miracle and yet I don’t see any possible path to have taken otherwise. My heart is filled with guilt and sorrow, but even in this moment of our bond’s test, I’m so happy that you’re next to me. Promise me something, my most cherished of loves?”

“You’ve had all my promises since the day we met.” Meekie reminds them as she nuzzles her flat face against Nodrin’s, exchanging the feeling of each other's skin intimately.

“After this… together… we either follow each other into the dark, or somehow find a way to live our lives twice as brighter. The latter is an impossible task,, I know… But our granted time together in this life deserves for us to try anyway.”

“You have my eternal love, dearest. And I know with every sliver of my being that I have yours. Dark or light, as long as I’m by your side, I’m ready to embrace it with you.” Meekie agrees in this likely farewell before they both fit their helmet back on and in unison dart towards the burning wreckage for their third bondmate.

Tails never unweaving, they bolt across blackened ground with their armors’ augmentations. Arriving there in blistering time, they both attempt to open the lopsided top hatch of the armored vehicle.

Having to both hammer on a manual release and dig their strengthened gauntlets’ claws into the creaking seams, they eventually pry the hatch door open enough to reach inside for the sole occupant.

The sight and smell is a heart wrenchingly tragic one.

Troy’s limp body is terribly burned, despite the intense protection of his armor. The first glaring thing the Gratt notices is that his helmet is cracked open, allowing for the upper left portion of his face to be utterly cooked.

Wanting to get him out, Nodrin and Meekie take a firm hold of him and pull together to slip him out.

In a shocking moment of relief, jubilance, horror and guilt on the Gratt’s part, Troy lets out a horrid scream as though he is being slowly torn in half.

The Gratt pause at this, but don’t sit idle. Nodrin focuses on getting Troy’s attention while Meekie braves the heat and squeezes in deeper to see how the man is caught up in the wreck.

“We’re here Troy, we’ll get you out, love.” Nodrin assures calmly.

The Terran’s one remaining eye looks around in a shocked daze, seemingly not sure where he is or what’s happening.

“You’re hurt, Troy. Don’t try to move, just let us take care of you.” Nodrin states, withing they could pet their claws through the man’s head fur.

Meekie pulls herself out, her expression blank.

“Cherished?” Nodrin asks encouragingly.

Meekie blinks before looking over to her bondmate.

“We won’t be able to pull him out, not in one piece.” She says in their native language.

Nodrin swallows dryly as they take that in. They have medkits on them, but to treat what they’d have to do to save Troy… they are not confident that they or Meekie will be able to do it by themselves.

However the alternative is to let Troy burn alive, so they shake their head to snap back to it.

“Then we do what we must. Then take him somewhere better than this wreckage and do what we can.” They say back to Meekie.

The female Gratt nods as she pulls her dagger out and turns to do the deed.

Yet as Nodrin returns to comforting the man, they notice his eye is now wide in fear and staring up past them.

Following the line of sight, Nodrin grasps onto Meekie’s shoulder before she can venture back into the burning vehicle. Drawing her attention, they see two of the Cali craft lining up for another run straight for them.

“Go… run…” Troy wheezes.

But neither Nodrin or Meekie so much as budge to escape. Perhaps if they leave right at that moment they’ll be able to jump in an alley or window for safety. But they don’t.

“Gratt don’t do that, Troy. I’m sorry.” Nodrin tenderly says as they pull themself closer to the man.

“We knew what it may mean, coming to find you.” Meekie agrees as she cuddles up as much as comfortably as possible with Troy and Nodrin, “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”

“And we are going to be here with you. Regardless of what’s after this life.”

“Guys… please… don’t…” Troy begs as his remaining eye dampens.

“We’re together. This is what that means for us, cherished. Feel our presence and nothing else.” Nodrin says in calming chitters as the two bundling Gratt block the view of the incoming demise.

Troy knows there’s no point in arguing with them, time has run out for that. Instead he closes his eye and focuses on the sounds of the Gratt’s calm breathing of their necks.

RAHBOOOOOM!!!

The air is lashed at the three before the sound of harsh whistling and mechanical twirling roars. Then there was a final eruption past them.

Meekie is the the first to look to see five new crafts soaring past their location to engage more of the Cali strike crafts, having apparently shot down the ones gunning for them if the remaining smoke trails are of any indication.

Nudging Nodrin she points up to see the miracle, but even as they did the Gratt’s eight eyes catch something even more miraculous.

The cloud coverage proves a poor barrier to the dropping hundreds of interceptor craft from two differing species. One operates like more of a coordinated swarm while the other are split into independent squadrons.

Then, just cresting past the clouds a far larger ship slowly sinks down. It’s bulbous but mechanical in shape, and seems to be equipped more defensively than aggressively.

-

“Struck true on target one and two. In pursuit of next target. I suspect I have located some Chakalata’motaas’s squad, but have yet to find a visual on her yet. Even with the signal amplifier she is not responding to comm hails. Environment speculatively informs that she may have already made it in the palace.” the Mikk lead fighter pilot reports as he and his squadron tails behind an enemy craft that may have been superior in speed and maneuverability. Yet it’s up against the finest in the Mikk Coalition Navy, and sometimes refined skill is better than mere edge in technology.

“Affirmative. A task group is on their way down to the location. Fly in distinguished honor.” deployment command replied through comms.

“Understood.” The squadron leader replies before continuing to fully focus on the task at hand.

As they hunt down the target at tentacle, their lineup of listed priority targets begin to list as ‘neutralized’ at a faster pace than expected. Glazing to the side of his craft he spots several ally interceptors prove their speed as even greater to that of the new Cali craft of war.

“Those Watath fellows really know how to dance in their crafts. Don’t they?” Another member of the squadron mentions.

“Indeed, they prove masters of air as well as the waters of their home.” A third comments.

“What is air but thinner water?” the squadron leader points out in banter, “However let’s show these ocean-dwellers that those of Thoerrn’s serene deserts know we are no slouches on the dance floor either.” he quips before firing tracing missiles at his target.

The enemy craft harshly turns to dodge, however that only opens them up for a wingman to strike them from the side as planned.

-

Meekie and Nodrin’s comms light up from an incoming transmission as they start working in stunned silence to get Troy free.

“H-hello?” Meekie answers.

“This is Captain Tahruu of the Transporter-class ship Meathra’tuun. What is the status of Chakalata’motaas?” A Mikk voice inquires.

“She and Simone Thatch went inside the Palace… We’re cut off and need help, need medical help, now, please!” Meekie replies as the integrity of her Galactic Standard starts to falter from rising raw emotion.

“A task group with medical is on their way to your location now. I’ll transfer you to them right after this final question. Have you had any luck contacting Chakalata’Motaas through your comms?” the Mikk Captain says at a quicker pace of voice.

“N-no.” Meekie replies quickly.

“It seems even with our amplifier present it seems there’s no signals making it inside the palace. Thank you, warrior of Sammander.”

With a slight audio shift another Mikk voice then speaks.

“What is the state of your present injured?”

“Uhm, bad. Bad-bad-bad. He’s a Terran, badly burned, stuck in burning war vehicle. He’s stuck… legs… uhm… stuck. Tangled. Fused. But need to get him out now or he burns to death soon.” she spoke ass directly as possible to get the important information across.

“We will be there in four standard minutes. Is that too long to wait in the present situation?” the Mikk asks.

“Yes, vehicle might explode again any second too. Not leaving him, don’t tell me to do that.”” she answers while stating her determination to remain preemptively.

“Very well. Allow us visual through your Lens and our medical team will walk you through what to do.” the Mikk states as a request came through to the female Gratt’s Lens.

“Good, yes!” Meekie agrees.

“I have visual.” A new Mikk said thoughtfully, “You have standard Central medkits on you?”

“Yes.” Meekie says.

“Excellent. If you can, look at the area where he is caught up.”

Before the Mikk can finish speaking the Gratt is already climbing her way in to show the gruesomeness.

“I see. Gratt holding him; administer a medkit’s numbing agent and prepare two tourniquets.” the Mikk instructs Nodrin.

“Okay.” they agree as they pull their kit off their belt, “I’m Nodrin, the other is Meekie.” they then inform to make communication easier.

“Understood. Now Meekie, what cutting implements do you have?” the medic inquires.

The female Gratt quickly presents her dagger and activates it.

“Better than what the medkit has… but do you have anything more stable? Crystal blades are fine and that will do, but you're going to be sawing and that model of dagger is not optimal as it may constantly break apart as you work due to the limited power supply.”

“No… this is all we… wait!” Meekie responds before turning around and unweaving her tail from her first bondmate and grabs the end.

Pulling it up she activates it presenting a far more powerful crystal blade.

“Blade tail!” she chitters, “Powered by armor! Much strong! -Er.. It’s much stronger.”

“How… unorthodox… but it’s indeed far better. I’m sending you a visual of a Terran’s vital major blood vessels that go through their legs. As soon as he’s free, you two will need to clamp down around what you can save of his legs, get him away from danger and apply those tourniquets as soon as physically possible.

“Numbing given.” Nodrin reports.

“Excellent. Start cutting. It acts fast.”

Meekie hesitates for only a moment, having treated injuries and even butchered many hunted animals in herlife, this is a totally new experience. Yet it has to be done.

Holding her tail blade, Meekie amplifies her strength output to its max before she begins forcibly sawing through the man’s legs.

In under ten standard seconds, she’s through both. Only taking that long because of the remnants of armor.

“Done! Pull now!” Meekie orders as she quickly backs out.

Nodrin complies and with ease drags the man free and keeps going as Meekie wraps each leg stump under her arms and squeezes each tightly to prevent him from losing too much blood.

Together they depart and carry the Terran to the building they bolted from to rescue him.

“Your hold on him is perfect, Nodrin. Careful when putting him down, he may have a spinal injury as well.”

“Head cradle. Gratt do it too.” they assure that they at least know about that much

Laying him down tremendously gently, each Gratt addresses a leg with a tourniquet.

“Excellent, we’ll have you inject stem fluid in concerning areas next and you can leave the rest to us when we get there. Brilliant work you two. Keep him conscious.” the Mikk says.

As Nodrin takes the initiative to take the stem injector, Meekie comes up closer to Troy’s head to check up on him.

“Troy, you’re going to be okay. Like we said we take care of you.” she coles in warm chitters.

“You… guys are… insane…” The man weakly says in a genuine scolding, before his mouth cracks a classic Troy smile. “You’re the… best…”

“Yes. We are. But please don’t die, okay?” Meekie chuckles, “You are the best too..”.

“I’ll… fuck’n… try.”

-

“All the servants are evacuated, huh? Think we would have seen at least one through these tunnels.” Simone points out softly.

“Indeed. They have likely been moved to safer sections of the palace.“ Chak whispers while she approaches the door she believes leads to the Throne plaza.

Cracking it open ever so slightly, she peers out to see dozens of Calii royal guards preparing for a fight. In fact even more just start to show up, making their way into the plaza and spreading out to mingle within what’s being set up as a final line of defense.

“Bad news…” she whispers before Simone then gets a gander.

“Shit. Is there no tunnel to the Delegation room?” the redhead asks.

“Seems my father was paranoid enough to have it sealed off, because it would be down further that way, but… “ Chak points to a crude cement wall, “No telling how thick that is… and hammering at it would draw attention to ourselves.”

Simone bit her cheek in contemplation.

“We could just run straight for it. We’re way faster than them in this armor, and we could probably break down any doors in our way.” Chak eyes to simple metal doors towards the back of the plaza behind the throne itself.

“The elevator may prove to be an issue if we’re stuck waiting for it or need to enter the shaft.” Chak points out, “But I don’t have a better plan, and I don’t think I’m going to win these people over… many of them are no doubt the traitors that turned on my family and betrayed the ultimate sacred trust.”

“Well too bad there’s no towers in here to-” Simone starts to quip before hearing the soft echoing of hoofs coming up from behind them.

Turning around ready to charge whoever it is, she hesitates seeing the simple clothes adorning the older female. She has no weapons, and all of her four limbs are raised.

The elder is immediately fearful of being obliterated by the fearsome armored Deathworlder, instinctually freezing up in a slouch as a plea to show she means no harm.

Simone is about to demand who she is, but Chak presses a hand to her shoulder as she passes by to address the old woman.

“Crel’tik…? What are you doing here?” Chak asks in a kind voice.

“It is you…” the woman whispers at the sound of Chak’s voice.

“Oh course it’s me. I assume you’ve heard my declaration?” the younger Cali responds as she gently hooks her lower limbs with the terrified woman’s.

“Forgive me, I should have known better. Of course the little ambitious fire-bug I watched grow up would not have bluffed those words… I just didn’t see you as such a warrior.” the lady apologies as her lower limbs slowly return the hooking grip.

Chak looks back to Simone.

“This is Crel’tik, she was my primary history teacher and etiquette instructor growing up here in the palace.” she informs before readdressing the woman, “But, why are you here?”

“I’m… one of Brom’s contacts…” the lady admits, “Listen Chak, there’s someone else here trying to get to the king. She spotted you traversing through the tunnels and asked me to pass along a message.”

“What? Who?”

“She’s an ex-royal guard so she feared you may have tried to shoot her upon any suspicion. Hence why I’m here. Her name is Mizar, do you remember her?”” Crel’tik says.

Chak narrows her eyes in recollection.

“That name does sound familiar… however I don’t believe we interacted all that much. Is she an agent of Brom as well?” she inquires.

“No. She’s… an independent party from what I understand. Only until very recently has she come back here and even more so been in full contact with Brom’s people as well as her own. However, her message is this and forgive me your highness she was insistent in saying that I must say this verbatim; ‘Though you kinda ruined my plans, nice work Princess. Go get that bastard. He’s still hiding away in the bunker, I’ll make sure you get there. Just wait for the fun to start.’ That’s all, and I’m supposed to get far away now.” the woman says before stepping back from Chak, hanging onto the lower limbs for as longs as possible as she does so.

“Thank you for the message, stay safe Crel’tik. It was lovely to see you again.” Chak farewells.

Just before the lower limbs part, the elder spoke one more thing before hurrying off.

“You’ve made your mother and all Queens before her so proud.”

Chak watches her leave, but no sooner when the elder turns out of sight, weapons fire lights up throughout the entire plaza.

Simone quickly peeks to see utter confused chaos. Royal guards are now suddenly scampering around and shooting at one another in a massive friendly-fire shootout.

Simone too was confused how this was possible, but her mind flicks back the new super arrivals mingling. This ‘Mizar’ and sympathizers must have dressed as royal guards and spread throughout before opening fire.

She hopes the sympathizers could tell who-was-who apart because she certainly sees panicked guards sharing the same caught off-guard expressions as they laid into one another with ammunition and melee weapons.

“Let’s go. Fast and low straight for the back.” Simone insists.

“By Klat’s sins…” Chak whispers before nodding.

Together, they slip out and bolt for it.

They of course only add to the confusion as the rebel Queen and a Deathworlder just appeared out of nowhere.

A part of Chak wants to start shooting at some of the monsters that slain her family, but not being immediately able to tell who was friend or foe keeps her fully focused on running and dodging at full sprint.

Thankfully it seems the camouflaged allies were keen on making their path as smooth as possible in such a scenario. Left and right guards either fell or are pinned down from seemingly random shots. Additionally the speed-enhancing power armors made the two difficult targets in the first place.

However one guard managed to perfectly plan a ambushing twirl from behind a supporting pillar

The crystal bladed spear swings expertly for the Queen’s neck, primed to poetically behead the royal family member.

However before the full swing occurs, another guard grapples it and tackles the attacker with the stolen leverage.

Chak barely skips out of the way in time to not trample the both of them. Slowing down slightly she looks at her rescuer as she crushes in the neck chitin of the actual guard with the spear’s shaft. This female guard is one the taller ends of what’s possible for a Cali. Through the helmet’s visor Chak catches hot pink fur.

The two link eyes for what must have been a fraction of a second, yet the image is burned into the Queen’s mind as she turns and continues on to the door.

Simone crashes through it, destroying the semi-impressive lock and shattering the door in the process.

She checks to make sure Chak is fine before hurrying to the clear ten foot wide metal doors that had to have been the elevator they are seeking.

“There’s no control panel?” Simone says as she looks around urgently.

“Father must have made it remote access…” Chak figures, “Shaft it is!” she moves to the seal of the doors and attempts to pry it open by hand.

“Let me.” Simone cautions for the Cali to step aside.

As soon as she does, Simone takes out her sword and activates the blade.

But before doing anything with it, the Terran reels back and hammers the seam of the doors with a mighty augmented kick, causing them to buckle and present more of a gap.

Then, with a precise downward slash she cuts through the latching mechanism keeping the doors together.

Deactivating her blade and reholstering the sword, Simone then approached and pulled the doors apart.

“I love you so much…” Chak speaks without even realizing it.

Simone looks down at the deep abyss, but can see a bottom. Turning her head to the side, she’s glad to see that even evil dick-taters still had value in emergency ladders.

“Alright, same as last time. Backpack mode.” she turned and thumbed at her back.

Not questioning Simone’s plan, Chak quickly approached and jumped up, assuming the position.

“Hold on tight, Bo-peep.” the redhead says as she positions herself carefully in a rotation, side steps to the ladder, grabs on, and begins the longest ladder-slide in Terran history.

The moment almost becomes anticlimactic as the sliding takes quite a while. Though Simone takes the odd moment of ‘calm’ to assure her wife.

“We can do this. We can fucking do this.”

“We will do this.” Chak agrees fervently.

After a while, Simone glances down to see that they are quickly approaching the roof of the elevator. So she starts to squeeze the bars and firmly press the sides of her feet against them as well. Managing to slow down almost to a perfect stop a foot off the roof, Simone back steps off and hurries to the emergency hatch.

Twisting the mechanism, it pops open without issue or protest.

However, voices can be heard as soon as it opens up.

“-the guards are gonna hold ‘em off long enough?” A Z’ah’tuck’s voice questions.

“They better! I’m not being left behind to be gunned down like an aarka beast!” another dino replies.

“Shut it. The King’s using loaned tech none of his scientists have a full grasp on. I’d rather it be done right then get scattered into atomized stardust. Or worse.” A female Borkon says in a groan.

“True… but did he really have to go so nuclear with the jamming? No comms or cameras really puts us in the dark here…” the first Z’ah’tuck complains.

“Again, loaned tech. Just keep your squaker shut and be glad we were stationed down here and not up where the fighting’s happening.” The Borkon replies ina displeased grumble.

Chak silently slides off Simone’s back and motions her rifle with a nod.

Simone tries to think of another option, but there is no way around it this time. The King is indeed planning an escape, and there’s only one way to get to him.

The redhead draws both her pistol and sword in each hand before giving her wife a returning nod.

Dropping down first, Simone blindly rushes out of the elevator and down a long hallway with the three -plus one ‘silent type’ Z’ah’tuck brooding against the wall- cliche henchmen standing by a secured armored door.

“OH SH-” One of the dino’s yelps out in sudden terror before her face is melted via a well placed plasma shot.

The other scramble to open fire down the chokepoint, but a dropped Chak beats them to it. Firing concussive shots around her wife she nails the brooding Z’ah’tuck halfway into his own aim and strikes the Borkon center mass, causing her dense form to reel back from the impact.

In her dashing Simone closedthe distance and clashes into the remaining Z’ah’tuck just as they fire in panic. Their pulse shot harmlessly dents the wall as Simone snatches them up by the throat and swings the dino up and down atop the recovering Borkon’s head.

The tip of the black horn breaks through the already damaged torso of the death-screeching Z’ah’tuck.

While the Borkon struggles to remove the new sudden prehistoric-ornament Simone presses her pistol up against the side of her cranium causing the hot freshly used barrel to sizzle a mark.

“Open the door.” Simone orders

The Borkon stares with one eye back at the demon in black armor and then forward at the ashen golden one aiming a pulse rifle.

Blood from the still dying Z’ah’tuck starts to roll down the side of the Borkon’s face as she breathes in terror for her life.

Dropping her weapon, she raises her thick arms and activates her Lens. A second later the seal of the door pops.

Just as it begins to scroll open, Simone pistol whips the Borkon in the face with such force that she’s knocked unconscious immediately.

Checking the integrity of her pistol, Simone then with Chak look ahead at the very homely space. It’s as if a top-tier luxury apartment was converted into some sort of B movie lab.

Stepping out and onto an elevated entry, scope the place out. There’s a few un-armed Cali working away at consoles and a surprising lack of soldiers. IN the center there’ two massive golden parallel arcing devices that create a circular empty space between them.

And standing before them, in all his regal glory, was him. King Lovia’motaas.

Dressed in his never-used travel clothes he stands by glaring at a particular scientist servant who seems to be leading whatever was occurring down here.

Yet Chak doesn’t care what’s happening. The focus of so much rage and despair stands right in the open for her to rid the stars of.

Taking aim, she zeros-in on her father’s head. Simone twitches to stop her, but can’t bring herself to commit. This is Chak’ call to make.

Placing a claw to the trigger, Chak’s eyes blaze with fiery hate. There’s no pleasure in doing this act, no lust for his head to turn to mist, just a deep anger that permeates her actions.

Suddenly, Simone and Chak are rammed from behind as the unfortunately quick to recover Borkon makes a furious decision of her own and charges.

Her horn glances off the Terran’s backplate, but the Borkon’s mass is enough to send all three tumbling down harshly.

King Lovia turns in fear at the early intruders.

“Activate it this instant!” he orders his subordinates.

“But your Majesty it’s not-” the lead scientist begins to say before catching sight of the King’s wrath, “Activating…” he hesitantly concedes.

The power of the bunker suddenly fluctuates as the two middle structures start humming to life.

“FATHER!!!” Chak bellows in a voice that numbs the legs of many of the scientists around.

Lovia slowly turns to look at the invading Cali, his mouth dropping wide open upon the realization. He doesn’t believe it, he can’t. The one daughter he saw as the least likely to accomplish anything that wasn’t under his influence and support, is here… before anyone else.

He knew she was stubborn and proved difficult to catch, but this!? This is purely the impossible now made a reality.

From the centerpoint of the arches a bluish screen gradually expands open. Revealing the interior of another place.

“It won’t be stable for long, there won’t be time to-” The scientist starts to warn before the King turns back and flees towards it.

Chak lifts her rifle and takes a shot, striking perfectly dead center.

But all it does is stagger the King forward even closer to the escape. Where she hit, there's a waving hexagonal light pattern revealing some sort of invisible shielding technology.

“STOP!!! YOU PILE OF KLAT SHIT!!!” Chak roars as she dashes after him with her far superior speed.

While struggling on the floor, Simone smashes her fist into the attacking Borkon’s head as this all occurs, but her opponent is hellbent on fighting to the very last heartbeat.

Seeing Chak start to move after the King, the Terran straight up jams her pistol into the foe’s mouth and pulls the trigger. In an instant plasma cooks the thick skull inside out, allowing her to toss the finally deceased foe aside and scramble to catch up to Chak.

“It’s collapsing!” the lead scientist attempts to warn the King, but the royal already commits to running through the portal with Chak right on his tail.

Seeing the objects starting to spark and inwardly bend, Simone reaches out to pull her Cali back from the failing wormhole.

But at the very moment her hand lands on the Cali’s shoulder, the forward momentum carries the Queen all the way through.

Simone’s brain fires the signals to pull her grasping arm back the very instant the portal collapses. Her arm flings back, but instead of banking a Cali, there’s an arching stream of gushing red fluid.

Standing still in complete shock she watches the perfectly clean cut of her removed hand and wrist pulse like a horror fountain.

Her wits coming back a bit through the trauma induced shock she tightly grabs her arm tightly to halt the loss of blood and aim her demented eyes towards the lead scientist.

“Where did she go?”