"You think that Saraphim respects my privacy out of the goodness of her heart?" said Locker. "I can guess her comlog password cold in under twenty attempts, less if I know what she's been doing recently. Here, bring up the login page," without so much as a blink of hesitation he unseals the jar with your nanites and gives you back your phone, looking over your shoulder.

"But yeah. I do have an EMP grenade as backup."

"Why," wars with "of course you have one," but both thoughts are pushed out by "where the hell is he keeping it, though?" He blushes heavily, and grabs the phone. Can't blush, after all, if you're too focused on the phone.

"Knowing her, probably narrating this for future generations. Heaven help me if she streamed it, because then it's out in the net and you can guarantee that it's never coming back."

Mmm. Limbs are nice. But somehow, he can't help but just lean back a little bit more. This is nicer, somehow.

"There. That's the last username I knew, and knowing her, the password is probably something embarassing, obscene, or both."

POTENTIAL 0

SLAM.

The door hits the doorstop so hard it bounces and nearly hits Sara in the face as she dramatically storms in and points a finger at Victor.

”You.”

She advances on him like the wrath of the Angel of the LORD, and she’s actually got an honest-to-God halo around her? It’s the showmanship of someone who’s here to put the fear of @SARAHPHIM into everyone.

“So, Brainstorm, when were you going to clue us in that you made an evil computer that Vicki’s using to help take over our jobs right now, as we speak? Did that maybe, possibly, slip your mind??” She doesn’t touch him. It’s somehow scarier that she’s not touching him. “Is the buyout of AEGIS another step in its plan to dissolve Disflix? Are you in charge of the whole operation?”

And because this is the most vital time for a frank discussion about Prometheus, its origins, why Victor has kept it quiet, and what they’re going to do about him... this is the perfect time for the captain to turn on the fasten seatbelts sign.

"Mars? That pitiful red planet?" said Turbo Knight. "And Sylvanius, the one man outside of my system... You know what!? You're right! Change of plans! Fuck Australia! Lackeys! Turn this satellite around! We're going to blow up Mars instead!"

There was a wide and suppressed groaning from the tech support staff at this declaration.

Ferra groans for much the same reason. "You... you idiot! You completely immature, insufferable, overgrown brat! This is obnoxious. If you're so insecure that I can get you to change your plans twice, in ten minutes, by asking questions, what are you doing wanting to rule the world?" She should probably not be egging her on, but dammit, if nobody else will. "Make up your mind, get a plan, stick to it, and stop crying about how nobody is acting like you're the queen of the world when you're not acting like one!"

“So, Brainstorm, when were you going to clue us in that you made an evil computer that Vicki’s using to help take over our jobs right now, as we speak? Did that maybe, possibly, slip your mind??” She doesn’t touch him. It’s somehow scarier that she’s not touching him. “Is the buyout of AEGIS another step in its plan to dissolve Disflix? Are you in charge of the whole operation?”

And because this is the most vital time for a frank discussion about Prometheus, its origins, why Victor has kept it quiet, and what they’re going to do about him... this is the perfect time for the captain to turn on the fasten seatbelts sign.

"Dammit, Sara, we're in the middle of something!"

Victor's on his feet and in Sara's face. Does Locker have the phone? He must have passed it to him. He can take care of it.

"I did not interrupt you and Errant, so fuck entirely off, would you? When it's fixed! Maybe! Ask it! Fuck no! Happy?!"

And it's that moment that he realizes that, without quite meaning to, he's stood protectively in front of Locker, fists balled into hammers. It'd be so easy. He's inside her guard. Could he get off the hit before she had time to realize what was going on? Historically maybe, but then he'd get torn apart in the ensuing--

Bing.

It's the strangest thing to end a glaring contest. And it doesn't really end it, just provides a much needed excuse. He's still glaring at her, chest heaving, sweat beading on his forehead, willing the adrenaline to go away.

"We," he says, every word bit off, "are going to have words. Together. With Errant. After this is done. And then you can ask Errant and myself why neither of us told you."

It's needlessly cruel, and he regrets it almost instantly, but it's out there in the world. And just like childhood pictures or family documentaries, it can't be taken back.

With a shattering rush and thump of displaced air, the Gears Foundation appears in the skies above the Kessler Multispace Site.

A little background on the company BlackSun. It began life as a luxury cruise ship company ordering tours of Africa and later broke into similar tours for the hyper-rich who wanted to visit space. As a sideline it sprawled into low-cost spaceflight and the mass launching of satellites. It achieved such economies of scale with this that scientists started warning that the company was the major factor putting Earth at risk developing Kessler Syndrome - a planetary problem where there are so many dud satellites in orbit that any spaceflight becomes perilous.

The company sat down and thought about what their response was going to be. On the one hand they could devote themselves to a sustainable vision of the future where they ensure the integrity of earth's orbit and guarantee a future for human spaceflight. Alternatively they could embrace their bad boy image, and maintain proprietary star charts of the few narrow orbital bands they have not polluted with space junk to lock out competitors, and rebrand themselves as BlackSun for the way their company's products are literally blotting out the sky. The decision came down to the black-and-gold colour scheme testing much better with focus groups.

The Kessler Multispace Site is defended comparably to a supervillain doom fortress. As soon as the flying Gears Foundation building erupts into the air above it enormous arcing anti-air lasers lock on and begin scorching beams through the sky and scrambling sleek unmanned jetfighters into the air. The attached spaceport terminals and hyperluxury resort are, at this point, meant to begin throwing up massive shutters to preserve their customers from debris caused by any such fights but as we all know nobody ever got rich playing it safe and only about half of them work, leaving civilians exposed and in the open.

As the sirens sound Professor Gears politely informs everyone in her best captain's voice that some mild turbulence is to be expected - and to help yourself to the Gears Arsenal on level 4 before you go for last-minute equipment grabs. There's everything you could need to make a hostile drop there, from wingsuits to laser-reflecting mirrors.

*

"Wah-ha-ha-ha!" laughed Turbo Knight 2. "Everything is going according to plan! Minions! Launch the rocket!"

Ferra, you can feel the rumbling of massive engines begin to roar below you. Channels of golden light run through everything as Prometheus begins executing his plans. Megagoons all over the open launch silo light up like lights on a server bank. It's all happening now, and those are your friends up there above you.

You've already done the groundwork to free the Shogun and bust free - and with your friends up there and in trouble, taking out some of that anti-air would be a damn fine assist.

*

"Right," said Sabrem. "First. Save world. Second. Movie night. Hnn. I could do with a... break. Good luck."

POTENTIAL 0

"Errant!"

That's trouble. Really, you should turn around and walk back outside rather than getting distracted by the wing harness that makes your teammate look like she just fell from heaven and made it look good. The wings are so dark that they're glossy, each feather part of an intricate system of stabilizers hooked into her flight gloves, and she shows off her control over them by touching you under the chin with the enormously powerful hardware, dragging it across your skin like a whisper, and... damn. Damn. You really should scold her for being irresponsible with something that could give you a concussion, but. She makes it look easy, doesn't she?

That voice is trouble. It's a trademark "heads will roll" sugary sweet. But that touch. And the way she's still glowing, literally surrounded by a halo, her turquoise hair shining with light, the way her aviators drink in the light and hide her beautiful eyes behind the dark lenses...

"Let's go kick some ass," Sara purrs, using a twitch of her fingers to make the aforementioned hardware drape the Stymphalian feathers against your back, drawing you in close. "Tell you what, I'll take Vicki myself, and you can unplug Victor's evil computer." Over the course of that sentence, her voice becomes progressively more icy until, by computer, it's positively sepulchral. The wing retracts sharply. "Don't wait up."

Her first mistake was not looking up. Sara dropping her call sign means she's mad as hell and there's more important things to do than strap in a pair of jet boots.

On the other hand... jet boots! How often do you even get to say those two words together? She could have gone for the wingsuit, obviously, but that was a tactically unsound decision and she knew it from the get-go. You need training for those things, and for once she doesn't have it. Moreover (and this is why), it's a powerful piece of machinery that tends to supersede the user's own physical parameters. In her case this is an especially stupid idea. But she still needs to be able to land without breaking anything, fight off more heavily armored opponents than usual... unless she wants to try suplexing more TAGs today, and probably jump higher in a move than she can on her own. Hence, the jet boots. She stands, slings the mirror (which for some weird reason is shaped like a kite shield, but you won't catch her complaining) over one arm, adjusts her handy new shock gloves, turns around and then... uh oh.

There are wings. On her face. Euna is literally looking at an angel right now, and she feels her breath catch. For one delicious moment, she blushes and stares at Sara with stars in her eyes and doesn't care whether or not there's a stream watching her making stupid kissy faces because a pretty girl flexed near her. It's not like the elevator this time. It's... it's...

She freezes. The words sink in, and her face hardens instantly. She rushes around to Sara's front and gets right in her face. Don't think about how she has to look up to get there. Don't think about the lobby or the game field, or any of that. She takes a step forward, and dares Sara not to step back.

"Hey," she snaps, "Hey! If you're mad you're mad, but this is. Not. The. Time! I don't wanna hear it! There are people down there in danger, right fucking now! So we're not divvying up the kills right now, you got that? I will not 'wait up'. You will fall the fuck in line and you will get your priorities straight right fucking now, or I will drop you like a bad habit and take out Victoria and the 'evil computer' with the functioning part of my team while you take a nap. Get me? Good."

Her eyes are burning. She did not fight her way through the entirety of AEGIS by herself to put up with this shit right now.

POTENTIAL 0

Oh, girl. Oh, you had to say it, didn’t you? Threaten to divide Sara from the group again, to be partners with her geeky little bro, leave her behind in the dust. She helps spring you out of AEGIS, she comes for you when nobody else does, and this is how you treat her? Like she’s disposable, your sidekick?

Let’s see if you blink, then.

Sara steps in too, closer, inside Euna’s personal bubble, but she’s never really cared about those, has she? “Go ahead,” she says, silky. “Give me your best shot.”

You gonna back up your big words, Euna? You gonna slug Sara for the crime of having feelings, huh? The blood pounds in Sara’s throat as she holds her breath and waits for you to make your choice, bomboncita.

And maybe you notice that she’s tensing up because she’s a little bit afraid you’re going to hit her, and she’s too stubborn to flinch away. Maybe you notice how she’s shaking just a little, and anxiously playing with the thumb on her right hand, for all that she’s trying to be the biggest thing in the room right now. How her wings are tucked in around her protectively. And maybe you put together that you and Victor kept something from her that she knows now, and of course she lashes out like the tiger.

She is so afraid she’s not really important to you. That’s why she’s in your face, watching your eyes, waiting to see if you knock her to the ground for being a pain in your ass. If you leave her on the ground again. If you walk away from her again.

Because Sara is arguably the dumbest genius on this ship, and she’d rather swallow her own tongue than grovel and ask if you’re mad at her, do you trust her, why didn’t you tell her. It’s macho street posturing, and isn’t that a bit of a reminder that some of us didn’t grow up in a good arcology?

She’s hard and brittle as the glass that the light shines through, daring you to pitch a baseball through her chest.

[Provoke 12 — admit to Sara that you need her, Euna, and add a Team to the finale— or mark a condition.]

This is the moment where two comets collide in the sky. So much momentum, opposite trajectories, and no fate left to them but to smash headlong into each other and light up the night sky like malfunctioning fireworks.

You want her best shot, Sara? Do you? Fine.

Euna snatches up at the vest on your flight suit with lightning reflexes. One hand, then two. She lifts you off the ground without effort. This is nothing for her. You're no tiger: you might as well be a kitten for all the trouble she has snatching you up. And the look on her face is wild. There's a flame in those eyes that can't be put out by anything, an intense promise to do something here and now, put her money where her mouth is, to take this step that she can never ever take back again.

She yanks you down to her level. She's staring right into your eyes, Sara, and if you're not shaking too much to notice, this is where you'll notice that she's trembling too. Her right hand brushes your cheek just barely before it's gliding through the back of your stylish new haircut, and before you know it she's pulling you backwards and sweeping out your foot with her leg in the same fluid motion, dropping you down toward the ground and

Catching

You

And

Leaning

Closer

And

Stealing. Your. Lips.

Euna kisses you like a demon. It is nothing like the tender gratefulness of that moment after the moon portal, or the butterfly wing touches from That Night. Her lips smash against yours and her mouth opens and it takes yours over completely, and she pins your tongue down under hers without ever, even once, looking away from you. Hers. Her angel. Her treasure. Hers!

She bites your lip before she breaks to let you breathe. Then she kisses you on the chin. Under your perfect, stupid jaw. On your neck, and now again it's long and lingering and when she parts her tongue traces her path of conquest back up to your lips.

She's floating over top of you, panting breathlessly. Her hair falls down off of her neck and tumbles forward to tickle your cheek like a river. And through this entire time, Sara, she's holding you. She'll never, ever let you fall.

"Moron. Idiot. I love you, don't you get that? So just... knock it off and come help me save these people. Please."

POTENTIAL 0

Sara looks up at Euna with wide eyes, her aviators knocked askew, her world tumbling around under her feet as she scampers towards something beautiful and glowing, and when she finally processes I love you her lips part and she says, helplessly, reverently, “Let’s do that again.”

The base rocks beneath their feet as a laser nearly knocks the whole base out of orbit, and an understanding passes between you. Save the world now. A whole fucking lot of kisses later.

“I’m at your disposal, commander,” she says, reaching up and readjusting those aviators. Gotta look cool. Gotta put on a show. Gotta make the whole world watch. “Whatever you say, I’m yours.”

I’m yours.

Victor picks through the assorted offerings, hmm-ing to himself as he does. That's a pretty advanced stealth field generator. Could be useful, although he's pretty sure that Prometheus will have accounted for anything he's given to Bode. Armor's useless, since it'll only weigh him down and keep him from using his limbs to his full extent. Unless... Hmm. The Gears foundation won't approve of him tearing the limbs off the suit, but some chest armor is still a good idea. Some kind of EMP gun? Bit of a double-edged sword, that one--good for knocking out Victoria's power armor, but just as likely to take out his own nanites. And of course, any armory is gonna have some bits and pieces lying around, and the quartermaster sure won't miss them...

[Refilling Gadget count]

"Tell you what, I'll take Vicki myself, and you can unplug Victor's evil computer." Over the course of that sentence, her voice becomes progressively more icy until, by computer, it's positively sepulchral. The wing retracts sharply. "Don't wait up."

Victor is not the kind of person to take satisfaction in someone else's misfortune. Nevertheless, he can't help but crack a little grin. Everything's going according to plan. Any second now she'll storm off and feel terri--

"I will not 'wait up'. You will fall the fuck in line and you will get your priorities straight right fucking now, or I will drop you like a bad habit and take out Victoria and the 'evil computer' with the functioning part of my team while you take a nap. Get me? Good."

Her eyes are burning. She did not fight her way through the entirety of AEGIS by herself to put up with this shit right now.

Wait no

She's floating over top of you, panting breathlessly. Her hair falls down off of her neck and tumbles forward to tickle your cheek like a river. And through this entire time, Sara, she's holding you. She'll never, ever let you fall.

oh shit that's hot

So, it turns out, he is in fact entirely fucked. Plans shot, destroyed, cheeks redder than a star, Errant and Sara together and chemistry off the charts. He needs out of this armory, and the sooner the better.

"Wah-ha-ha-ha!" laughed Turbo Knight 2. "Everything is going according to plan! Minions! Launch the rocket!"

Ferra, you can feel the rumbling of massive engines begin to roar below you. Channels of golden light run through everything as Prometheus begins executing his plans. Megagoons all over the open launch silo light up like lights on a server bank. It's all happening now, and those are your friends up there above you.

You've already done the groundwork to free the Shogun and bust free - and with your friends up there and in trouble, taking out some of that anti-air would be a damn fine assist.

A few shards of hardlight in strategic places, and they're both off the rocket. A dozen more, whirling around in a precise pattern, gives them both enough cover to get away from the rocket without being shot, and she's straight out the window and towards the AA emplacements. They are shooting at her cat. How dare you. The swirling vortex of glass and baffling hardlight following her is almost an afterthought.

7 on dice, I assume this is an attack which would make it a 7, in which case she's taking something (the AA emplacements). If this is instead a defend, that's a 10, baby.

A few shards of hardlight in strategic places, and they're both off the rocket. A dozen more, whirling around in a precise pattern, gives them both enough cover to get away from the rocket without being shot, and she's straight out the window and towards the AA emplacements. They are shooting at her cat. How dare you. The swirling vortex of glass and baffling hardlight following her is almost an afterthought.

[Counting that as a Defend]

There is no more noble cause than the defence of cat. You cut through the anti-air lasers easily - they're as obsolete as the shutters, and for a moment the skies are clear.

Then sleek black drone fighters begin lifting from the spaceport; vantablack triangles launching one after another in streaks of golden light. These are BlackSun's mobile reserve, the cutting edge of the corporate-industrial complex and the moneymaker showroom pieces. They scatter up, wings opening - too small to take the fight to the Gears Foundation directly, but dangerous enough to intercept anything or anyone jumping from the skies.

And then...

"TO PROTECT THE STARS FROM DESTRUCTION!"
"TO GIVE GREAT BARGAINS ON CONSTRUCTION!"
"TO GUARD THE WORLD FROM ABOVE!"
"TO BLACKEN THE SUN WITH OUR LOVE!"
"LYRA!"
"SCIPIO!"
"VIOLET!"
"YATES!"
"AS HOLY KNIGHTS WE WIN OUR FATES!"

In a perfect sentai group pose the four Knights of the Black Sun, the elite megagoons - each a celebrity in their own right - emerge onto the roof of the aircraft hangar on an elevator. They're Maria's hand-trained elite badasses, surrounded by swarms of camera drones, instinctively catching every splash of sunlight and turning to let the illumination of explosions catch their good sides.

They then draw their swords - a complicated manoeuvre that involves graceful leaps, pirouettes, moments of break dancing and dramatic, smouldering stares into each others helmet-visors that no doubt have their fans screaming from the romantic tension. Once they're done with that it'll be time to use those swords, and perhaps strike more poses.

POTENTIAL 0

"That's Ferra, all right," Sara drawls, looking down at the ruin of the AA batteries. She's leaning up against a doorjamb, ignoring the polite chirp of please keep arms and legs inside the institute during flight operations, looking down at the chaos: the madness of Vicki, the arrival of the Knights, the rocket moments away from launch. "Let's get the band back together."

She takes a deep breath, grins, and switches the stream on. A snap of her fingers, and then the institute's speakers start blaring "Toxic," because any fight scene worth its salt needs the backdrop. Then she turns and lets herself fall back out the doors, and plummets, even as the drones scream into the sky. She's cool. There's a whole plan, you know? And she's got her role in it, same as everybody else.

Spears blossom around her, and she grins. Let's get to work.

[Unfortunately for her, that's a cool 6 on her Assess.]

Errant reacts with inhuman quickness, but for once it's got nothing to do with skillwires or cybernetics. This time it's a lot simpler than that: she knows Sara so well she sees the dive coming before the first step out the door.

She jumps and her boots fire in response. They're not going to let her fly, but she can pull of some pretty nifty momentum tricks in mid air. Just like this one! Errant snags Sara by her collar again and yanks her back up onto the steps of the Foundation building, whipping her hips around as she pulls so that the thrust carries her trajectory in a sharp triangle path and lets her grab the edge of the floating building with her spare hand before she falls too far. For a moment, none of her limbs are doing anything with any relation to each other. She yanks herself up and raises her new shield as she zips up over Sara, knocking away the blast that was aimed to shoot her out of the sky before landing lightly on her feet.

She takes a second to flick her wrist and point casually at the wave of drones. She smirks.

"We'll call that one Plan B. Wanna try again?"

Her eyes flick backward before she flips her visor down over them. She definitely sees you over there, Victor; you're lucky she's got so much distracting her right now or things might get ugly. But hey, play your cards right for the next ten-ish minutes and she might get so caught up in punching people who deserve it she'll forget she's mad at you.

[Using one (1) Team to change Sara's Assess into a 7. She can ask her question now]

POTENTIAL 0

"For the record," Sara says, sourly, "Plan A was going to be super radical. The drones were going to get blown out of the sky." No thrills of fear running up her back over how fast she was being tracked by that AA fire, nosiree! To distract herself from being mean at her awesome maybe girlfriend, she scans the field from the steps. If she can't do her stunt, she's going to make sure that her next move -- synchronized with Errant this time -- is decisive and awesome as hell.

["Who here is most vulnerable to me?"]

There is no more noble cause than the defence of cat. You cut through the anti-air lasers easily - they're as obsolete as the shutters, and for a moment the skies are clear.

Then sleek black drone fighters begin lifting from the spaceport; vantablack triangles launching one after another in streaks of golden light. These are BlackSun's mobile reserve, the cutting edge of the corporate-industrial complex and the moneymaker showroom pieces. They scatter up, wings opening - too small to take the fight to the Gears Foundation directly, but dangerous enough to intercept anything or anyone jumping from the skies.

And then...

"TO PROTECT THE STARS FROM DESTRUCTION!"
"TO GIVE GREAT BARGAINS ON CONSTRUCTION!"
"TO GUARD THE WORLD FROM ABOVE!"
"TO BLACKEN THE SUN WITH OUR LOVE!"
"LYRA!"
"SCIPIO!"
"VIOLET!"
"YATES!"
"AS HOLY KNIGHTS WE WIN OUR FATES!"

In a perfect sentai group pose the four Knights of the Black Sun, the elite megagoons - each a celebrity in their own right - emerge onto the roof of the aircraft hangar on an elevator. They're Maria's hand-trained elite badasses, surrounded by swarms of camera drones, instinctively catching every splash of sunlight and turning to let the illumination of explosions catch their good sides.

They then draw their swords - a complicated manoeuvre that involves graceful leaps, pirouettes, moments of break dancing and dramatic, smouldering stares into each others helmet-visors that no doubt have their fans screaming from the romantic tension. Once they're done with that it'll be time to use those swords, and perhaps strike more poses.

Ferra is singularly unimpressed. She holds up each arm, both in a "come at me bro" gesture and a focus, and a halo of five blades, longer than she is, appear behind her. "Learned this one from Sara." And they spike towards the Knights, one held in reserve for the surprise she wasn't seeing coming.

There's another AI involved. There was a surprise coming.

8 on directly engage, I will avoid return blows.

Her eyes flick backward before she flips her visor down over them. She definitely sees you over there, Victor; you're lucky she's got so much distracting her right now or things might get ugly. But hey, play your cards right for the next ten-ish minutes and she might get so caught up in punching people who deserve it she'll forget she's mad at you.

Got it, crystal clear, over and out, sir. Yikes, yeah, she's pissed.

H'okay. So. Right now, they've got a swarm of bots broadcasting a narrative. Watch the heroic Blacksun defend against the evil supervillain Brainstorm and his henchmen! Can they resist his hypnotic allure, with which he's already corrupted another corporate champion and his superstar sister? Tune in to find out!

So the goal is to find their comms booth, and throw it into disarray. Bam, four corporate champions out in the cold with no hype crew directing them, a swarm of drones with no command center. Or, even better? Swap control of the bots over to Sara. That at least ought to be good for some brownie points. She's probably missing her camera drones and here comes Brainstorm, with an apology gift of several hundred corporate grade ones.

She might not even punch him!

[Assess: 11. what can I use here to accomplish the above? How could we end this quickly?]

POTENTIAL 0

"For the record," Sara says, sourly, "Plan A was going to be super radical. The drones were going to get blown out of the sky." No thrills of fear running up her back over how fast she was being tracked by that AA fire, nosiree! To distract herself from being mean at her awesome maybe girlfriend, she scans the field from the steps. If she can't do her stunt, she's going to make sure that her next move -- synchronized with Errant this time -- is decisive and awesome as hell.

["Who here is most vulnerable to me?"]

Your vision locks on like a magnet to the Knights of the Black Sun - those hamfisted corporate goons who are failing at the basic task of put-sword-into-robot. They're completely focused on fighting Ferra/making soulful battle monologues and are, accordingly, the perfect targets for orbital dropkicks. If you have someone to cover your descent you can make a hell of an entrance.

Got it, crystal clear, over and out, sir. Yikes, yeah, she's pissed.

H'okay. So. Right now, they've got a swarm of bots broadcasting a narrative. Watch the heroic Blacksun defend against the evil supervillain Brainstorm and his henchmen! Can they resist his hypnotic allure, with which he's already corrupted another corporate champion and his superstar sister? Tune in to find out!

So the goal is to find their comms booth, and throw it into disarray. Bam, four corporate champions out in the cold with no hype crew directing them, a swarm of drones with no command center. Or, even better? Swap control of the bots over to Sara. That at least ought to be good for some brownie points. She's probably missing her camera drones and here comes Brainstorm, with an apology gift of several hundred corporate grade ones.

She might not even punch him!

[Assess: 11. what can I use here to accomplish the above? How could we end this quickly?]

To shift control of the drones? That's a Bode job. It is, after all, merely a high-energy act of software piracy and that's what Bode is designed to do. Get him one of those drones and he can do the rest.

How to end it quickly? You're going to need to get right in Victoria's face. You're looking at this situation and the numbers are impossible - Victoria has an army and you'll be worn down eventually. But she also has a terrible liability: she has a plan. You can sense more than you can see that this entire situation is a trap - and that's not a bad thing. If Victoria wanted to fight you straight up she could just keep paying dollars until you were gone, but she's not doing things the smart way - she's doing things the Turbo Knight way. She wants to prove her superiority here, and you should let her. It means she'll throw away her greatest advantage.

Ferra is singularly unimpressed. She holds up each arm, both in a "come at me bro" gesture and a focus, and a halo of five blades, longer than she is, appear behind her. "Learned this one from Sara." And they spike towards the Knights, one held in reserve for the surprise she wasn't seeing coming.

There's another AI involved. There was a surprise coming.

"Fiend! You dishonour the sacred laws of the duel!" said Lyra.
"I weep for this fallen age!" declared Scipio, and true to his word, he stood stock still and took off his helmet to wipe tears from his eyes in a perfect melancholic pose. His team effortlessly moves to defend him while he takes his moment.
"You dare hold back?" roared Yates, pressing the attack. "You think that we are unworthy of your full efforts? Fie! Fie and damnation, let our swords teach you the price of your arrogance!"
"Use the promo code Arrogance-2187 to get 10% off our limited edition Armour Mark 55 Unboxing Video, featuring our unabridged reactions to our iconic new gear!" added Violet.

POTENTIAL 0
ANGRY

“Euna? I’m going to take out the Knights.” Baby steps! At least she’s taking the time to explain herself! And she’s not yelling about how she totally wouldn’t have gotten hit by that drone and Euna ruined an awesome shot, not even a little bit. “I am going to hit them like the fist of an angry goddess and watch them explode into hammy confetti. Please give me a flight corridor.”

She jumps. She burns. She plummets through the drone fire, with Euna close behind her, and she waits with nerves of steel for the right time to open her wings and open fire. She’s tight, limbs close in against themselves, as she refuses to admit that this is terrifying. Her stomach drops out and plummets like a stone, and at least if she was falling upside-down she’d be distracted!

Like, not so distracted she’d hit the ground. But she wouldn’t get to see the ground zooming towards her at high speeds. So thanks for that, Errant. If not for the kisses and the possibility of another date (on Mars? the sky’s the limit!), she’d be chewing her amazing, beautiful teammate out.

Errant’s got the flight corridor on lockdown, but Sara can’t resist spearing a few drones that get too close on her way down. I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re Toxic...

Then she lets the wings extend at the last possible moment, the deceleration intense but it makes for an incredible shot, and shining silver spears start raining down on the prancing, posing knights as she roars like an avenging angel: “Get away from my friend!”

[The narrowest 7 I have ever rolled on Direct Engagement. Looking to Impress, Frighten, or Surprise.]