Two soldiers catch the body of the Architect before he hits the window falling below them. A third scoops up Dolce, but only for a moment. With a solid foothold he scrambles upright, hooves finding purchase on the slightest nubs of metal. 

“Is now really the best time to test that theory?” From this peak, his shout carries above the chaos, up, up to the departing 20022. “When a guest of the Crystal Knight lays dying at her hand? A guest who was [i]your[/i] charge?”

The world beneath them vanishes. Prize and miracle and battle alike are swallowed in an explosion of roiling indigo. The room bathes in its splendor. The walls shudder at its arrival. Dolce stands silhouetted, the first herald of thunderheads, shadowed and eclipsed save for eyes reflecting lightning. 

Then again, the signs of Zeus had already been blooming above Bitemark. Coincidence, careful timing, whatever the case may be, 20022 has no time for misguided pedantry. And he may well have said so, were he not interrupted by the tiniest chink of metal. A small sound. The first of many. The soldier to his left has broken her stance, ever so slightly, to shift a half-step away from him. He is too skilled not to realize the shaky grounds he now occupies.

The price to leave this room and see to the battle at hand is not a cold shoulder to a misguided apprentice. He must convince seventeen soldiers of the Skies - who know only that Zeus will punish those who break hospitality - to join him on the battlefield alongside the Crystal Knight. Both of whom may stand under a curse within the hour.

Dolce presses onward. Twenty-one ears bend to him. ”I can take him out of here, but I don’t know if I can save him. If you start as soon you reach the shuttle, you may be able to make your case to the Thunderer. Tell him you did not give the order, tell him the Crystal Knight could not have foreseen this possibility, give whatever you can to plead for mercy. But please, you must hurry!” And he must apply his full attention to the task. No soldier would risk Zeus’ wrath to let him waste even a second on hastily-scribbled orders. ”I will get him out of danger. And I’ll do what I can for the battle below. By the time the Architect comes in force, the way will be clear. I promise you.”

With gravity tumbling to pieces, in a ship falling sideways, in the arms of an unlucky and scared soldier, 20022 thinks. Considers, carefully, how blameless he would be should the Crystal Knight fail, and the worthy credit he would claim should she succeed. “Perhaps.” Calm. Diplomatic. Unhurried. “But don’t you have your own propitiation to make? Was it not your charge as much as mine? Why do you think you would be spared Zeus’ wrath?”

Dolce bows his head. When he rises, there is no lightning left in those eyes. When he speaks, shame breaks a voice that fear and adrenaline could not.

”Because you are a member of the Service, aid to the Sector Governor, and I have been your humble guest.”

[Rolling to [b]Talk Sense[/b], with Wisdom: 6 + 3 + 3 = [b]12[/b]]