(Callie)
Her skin tingled, and the room darkened, her vision swimming with spots. At first she thought she might have a major concussion, too late she realized she was wrong. Callie took in a deep breath, inhaling the toxic air. Immediately, her lungs burned with agony, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching her throat, coughing violently.
Pushing aside panic, Callie pushed out her senses, feeling for the charged airborne particles. The energy in the air felt like thousands of sharp crystals, that with every breath filled her lungs, cutting her throat. Through the haze of pain, Callie reached out to the gas and smoothed out the crystals sharp edges, both inside herself and in a small bubble around her.
Blood trickled from her mouth, spattering to the thick carpet. With an effort of will, she channeled power into the bubble of energy and pushed the negative particles away. The surrounding haze reacted like gas and billowed away from her in every direction. The bubble of force she projected outwards, cracking the walls of the living room. Plaster rained down in chunks from the ceiling, and chairs were thrown away from her.
Callie rose on unsteadily, her throat and lungs burning. Coughing up blood, she took in her surroundings through bleary eyes. Villus looked just as bad as she did, wavering on his feet, and coughing blood. She could see his efforts to disperse the nasty particles around himself, but there was a hole in his helmet, and some must be trapped inside. He stumbled towards his dropped pistol, his movements split by bloody coughing. The Slax ambassador lay on his side coughing violently, breathing in the toxic air, and coughing up blood.
She gave the slax ambassador only a glance while she created a thin bubble of positive energy around her. She had to refine the barrier into a fine net, sacrificing strength to keep out the tiny razor sharp particles in the air. Callie was losing focus. She needed to finish the fight quickly. Her lungs were not well, and Villus looked terrible. Creating her refined strands of energy took several seconds, and once she was done, she rushed forward.
Her lungs burned, and she fought off the urge to cough. Villus bent down, exposing his armoured side, giving Callie a target. She lunged and thrust the energy charged monomolecular knife towards the plating over his ribs. Her forearm and shoulder burned with pain, straining from damage earlier in the fight. The blade met his thickly armoured forearm instead of his relatively thin rib armour as Villus blocked.
Her knife tore through the thick composites, cutting through armour, muscle and bone with little effort. Blood gushed from the wound, over her hand, loosening her grip. Villuses staggered away, and the knife left a massive hole in his left forearm, nearly jarring the knife from her grip.
Villus stumbled over the ambassador's prone form as he tried to escape her follow up attack. She kept a steady focus, keeping tight control on her fine barrier to keep out the toxic gas. Cautiously, Callie approached her wounded instructor, noting his visor was covered in blood.
No wonder he didn't see her approach until it was too late. His entire helmet was drenched from the head wound she gave him at the front of their fight. Knowing it was an arrogant mistake only fools made, Callie paused.
"Do you need a minute to take off your helmet?" Callie asked, watched him cough up blood into the inside of his helmet. Villus, unable to speak, reached up, and the sealed helmet released its clasps. Gently, he pulled the helmet off, revealing the mess of blood that was draining from his injured scalp.
Callie's eyes were drawn to the flesh wound, noting a patch of missing hair. Villus didn't look so good. His leathery face was pale, and his steel-grey eyes were following her every movement with concern.
He opened his mouth and coughed, a burble of blood slipping from his mouth. "I miss calculated, I didn't expect you to put a hole in my helmet."Villus croaked, wincing with every word. She snorted and regretted it.
"If you are looking for sympathy, I left mine in the car. And besides, you were the one that taught me to use your opponent's weapon against them."Callie stated emotionlessly. Her throat burned, but Villus looked like a walking corpse.
His lungs must be bleeding, and if he didn't get medical attention soon, he might drown in his own blood. If Callie was being honest, she wasn't doing much better. She could feel a growing urge to cough as her damaged lungs tried to purge blood.
Beneath them on the first floor, she heard a heavy bang, followed by the sound of heavy boots. Villus laughed and doubled over onto his hands and knees, coughing up thick bubbly blood. Callie grinned at him.
"Times up, Villus, the enforcers are here. I hope you enjoy the pit they throw you into."Callie said, backing away, wondering if she could escape. The ambassador wasn't her problem anymore. If he died, it was no longer her concern..
With an armoured fist, Villus wiped the blood from his chin, grinning up at her. His teeth were stained bright red, and the look in his eyes was angry. Energy pooled in a swirling vortex beneath Cillus, gathering rapidly.
"Hey Callie, see you in hell!" Villus said, his gaze glinting with determination.
Villus, who was crazier than Callie expected, released the energy he had been gathering. Callie reacted instantly to defend herself, flooding her own barrier with the rest of her already depleted reservoir. Draining her well like that was a bad idea, but she didn't have a choice..
The chaotic, negative energy swirled around them, covering Villus in a pitch black haze for razor particles that chipped his armour and tore at the skin on his face. Horror filled her as right within the middle of that sphere of energy was the Slax ambassador.
Callie bit her lip nervously, for a moment wondering what to do? The room was rapidly filling with the hellish energy that was tearing Villus and the Ambassador apart. The energy sparked as it collided dozens of times with her own green barrier.
She swallowed hard, her throat already burning from earlier. She hadn't expected this kind of attack from Villus, but he was a spiteful asshole. Of course, he would sacrifice himself to kill the ambassador.
She gritted her teeth, staggering backwards as she felt her protective barrier waver. She gripped her knife loosely, taking light ragged breaths, ignoring the growing pain in her chest. His victim, the slax ambassador coughed, and screamed as the razor shards of energy dug into his exposed back.
Callie took this all in, as well as Villus who was letting the energy cut himself to pieces. If only she had her gun, then she could put a bullet in Villuses head. She scowled and clenched her fist around the hilt of her blood coated knife. The brutal energy tearing the room apart was pealing the paint from the walls and cutting through everything.
She glanced behind her, not even seeing a single enforcer in the hallway. Those damned enforcers were taking their time. Damn, why wasn't she blowing a hole in the back wall and running already? Could she save the slax ambassador? Or would it be a futile gesture to finish Villus off quickly?
With a quick glance, she decided Villus was already at death's door, and the slax ambassador didn't look any better. The ambassador had two gunshot wounds in his knees, his lungs were drowning him, and now his skin was being peeled away by Villuses' suicide.
She turned, decideding it was logical to leave. She would gain nothing by staying here, the Slax ambassador might have no chance. And she knew that her only chance of survival was to save the man. She grimaced, her thoughts a whirl of confusion.
What about Dustin and Taniya? Callie paused, her logical mind being halted by that stupid thing called emotions. Biting her lower lip, and hating this idea immensely, Callie rushed back into the chaotic energy.
Maybe she was an idiot, but the alternative was a lifetime on the run. And that was assuming she could escape the mansion. If she was being honest with herself, escape was a pipe dream. The Devali and the enforcers would take this attack on the Slax ambassador seriously. And any hope of escape vanished several minutes ago.
Her positive barrier lit up as it was bombarded with small fragments of condensed negative energy that filled the air. Her skin burned as she pushed forward, and the barrier shattered in moments. Immediately, her clothes were gouged, and she used her forearm to protect her eyes.
The shadowy outline of Villus in the center of the room seemed like a mile away as she felt the sharp energy cut furrows into her skin. Blood trickle down her forehead, making Villus blurry. Pushing through the pain, Callie reached out and grasped the hard-shelled collar of Villuses' combat suit. Callie couldn't see very well, so slammed her knife into Villuses exposed neck sloppily.
She must have hit something truly vital, because the haze of energy cutting Callie's skin slowed. Villus collapsed, his neck gushing blood from her massive cut. Callie, lacking any energy in her reservoir, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
It helped little, just smearing blood around. The air was no longer moving around, but the energy hadn't dissipated. She wanted to just collapse and sleep, but this wasn't the place or time. Callie felt wrung out, but cautiously, she dragged the unconscious ambassador towards the hallway.
Callie pulled the young mans bleeding body into the hallway, gripping his wrists, and ignoring the agony in her torn shoulders. Walking clear of the swirling energy cloud, Callie dropped his arms to the floor with a meaty thud. Cautiously, she reached down, checking for a pulse.
Nothing, there was nothing! Behind her down the hall she heard the drone of heavy boots on stairs and, fearing for her life, she moved. She rushed back into the swirling clouds of razor energy, dodging best she could go get to the ambassador's bedroom.
Her muscles screamed in agony, and her lungs burned with a hot pain as she kicked the door inwards. The room was dark, and behind her she heard shouting. Callie didn't look back, not wanting to be there when the enforcers braved the energy cloud.
Frustration, fatigue and shame filled her as she fled, sneaking out the second-story window of the mansion. To be fair, it was more of a staggering sneak than a real crouching walk. She shook her head, taking deep breaths, trying to focus through the pain wracking her body.
She hung from the windowsill and dropped, falling a single story and rolling. Callie's eyes water from the stinging pain, but she moved anyway. She ran towards the tall fence in the back, running partially up the wall before leaping to grasp the top.
In a display of athletic prowess, she pulled herself up and rolled over, dropping softly to the street. She startled a random civilian, who gaped at her blood-soaked arms. Callie smiled at the man. He wore a blue blazer, despite the pleasant temperature of the city Valia.
She reached into her jacket, and pulled out two hundred crowns, offering the bills to the man. The civilian took in her bloody torso, sheathed knife and her pistol, his eyes bulging. She croaked, "Your jacket. Give it to me!" Callie order.
The man, deciding he wanted no part of this, took off his jacket and took the crowns. Callie slipped on the jacket, pulling the hood up, and strolled down the street casually. She knew the civilian might call the enforcers, but she just needed the jacket long enough to reach the nearest stairwell to the under city. She needed to take her planned escape route that led her through the back streets and into her pre selected stairwell. Callie didn't rush, not even when three drones rushed past overhead.
She limped forward, trying to act casual, but knowing she must look like a mess. Behind her the sirens blared loudly, as more enforces moved to surround Roger's estate.
In her ragged state she didn't notice the scuff of boots on composite moving up behind her. The cold weight of a barrel rested on her back.
"Hands on your head or I will shoot."A familiar voice ordered. Callie tensed, but did so, too exhausted to fight.
He took her arms and cuffed her. "Come, we got to go." Dustin said, gesturing to a car parked down the street.
She hadn't even noticed the vehicle before. To be fair, her head was swimming and she was groggy from blood loss. "Where are we going?"She asked, wincing, pain lancing through her side as he pulled on her arm.
"Later, just get in the car."Dustin said anxiously.
He open the back door, and paused. A small pin pric of pain stung her neck. Callie cocked her head, looking back, at him. Just in time to see him tucking a spent needle.
"What are you doing?" She asked, suddenly woozy.
"Just relax." Dustin said, pushing her into the back seat.
Her eyes flutter, her heart racing as she looked out the back door, up into his deep brown eyes. He looked weary, and nervous, glancing to the right as the sound of sirens drew closer.
Then he shut the back door, climbing into the drivers seat.
Without taking time to buckle in her drove off. The sounds of the shuttle as well as the sirens faded, her mind growing foggy until she fell into sleep.
Callie sniffed, and coughed, the scent of something truly aweful filling her nose. She blinked rabidly in bright lights of a small room.
Suddenly wide awake she tried to strand up.
She coughed to one side, pain shooting through her chest in waves.
"You need to be careful or you will reopen your wounds."Dustin said.
A deep thrumming filled her head, soft and low, resonating through the room. Were they on a space ship? Callie took several deep calming breaths to steady herself, before turning to face him.
He was in casual blue pants a button up white shirt with his pistol holstered at his side. She tugged at the handcuffs securing her to the bed, assessing whether she had the reach to grab his gun.
A smile tugged at his lips.
"Planning taking me hostage to escape?"Dustin asked casually.
" Maybe. You drugged me and stuffed me in the back of your car." She said accusingly.
"You didn't give me much of a choice."Dustin said.
She rested her head back on her pillow, letting out a sigh.
"So, when do the interrogations start?"Callie asked.
He laughed softly actually smiling at her. "No one will be torturing you. In fact, I am leaving soon. The cargo ship is preparing to depart as we speak."Dustin said.
"Wait, what do you mean, what cargo ship?"Callie asked confused. Dustin reached down and cautiously took her hand, squeezing it softly.
"I couldn't stand the thought of you being arrested and tortured for information. So, I arranged a way out of the empire for you."Dustin said.
Her heart skipped a beat at his callused hands laced in hers.
"But, you will get in deep shit for that."Callie said.
"Ya, I will probably be demoted, and given a reprimand if mom finds out."Dustin said, laughing nervously.
She squeezed his hand, comforted at the contact for some strange reason.
"If you are letting me go, why am I handcuffed to the bed? Is it some sort of kink you have?"Callie asked.
"Oh, right. That is to make sure you can't get off the ship before it leaves." Dustin said.
"That's a bit extreme."Callie said, tugging softly at the cuf on her right leg and arm.
Dustin leaned down, and kissing her. His lips were soft, and warm. His lips lingered on hers, the kiss gentle.
He pulled away, leaving her breathless. "Sorry, I have to go. Good luck Callie."Dustin said straitening, and pulling away.
She clasped his hand tighter and he paused, standing there nervously.
"Will you keep an eye on Peyton?"Callie asked.
"No promises, but I will try to keep him outa trouble."Dustin said.
"Thank you."Callie said.
Dustin smiled and pulled away, moving towards the door. A pit formed in her stomach, her hand left empty.
Callie peered under the blankets to her body that was naked aside from bandages.
She turned, looking up into his deep brown eyes, wincing at the pain.
Her eyes widen as a large shuttle, rounded the corned, lights flashing.
That bothered her. Why were they just arriving? The drones should have been here first, before the enforcers.
Nervous, she strolled casually down the street, her blazers hood up, hoping blood didn't leak through her blazer. She needed to find somewhere to lie low, contact Nakita's friend, and get the aide Nakita promised. Then she needed to leave the city as soon as possible before they could put the city on lockdown.
She pulled up a map, detailing the winding corridors of the under city. Nakita, the slax arms dealer, had a counterpart that worked here in the city of Valia. Callie hoped Nakita was trustworthy, as she really needed medical aid and other supplies, like fresh clothes, a disguise, food, and water.
Callie sent her message to the man and most of her remaining crowns. She grimaced. For a rushed delivery, the arms dealer charged her triple what the medical supplies were actually worth. Callie didn't complain, and anxiously waited for the message signalling the drop spot.
In the meantime, while she waited, Callie removed her jacket and shirt, tearing her shirt to make long strips of cloth. It was easy to bypass the stairwells code, opening the door to a dark corridor.
Sitting quietly inside, she used a light from her comm to tear her blood-soaked shirt into strips. She tied them tightly around the cuts on her arms, torso and legs, wincing with each strip of fabric. They were a crude solution, and completely unsanitary, but she needed to keep her blood in.
Her comm bussed, and Callie's stomach clenched as she received Dustin's call. She swallowed, ignoring the call, focusing on the dark stairwell.
She waited, sulking in misery and pain, for the message to arrive. She was in too much pain to put much effort into hating herself, focusing on her wounds to avoid thinking of her failure.. Dustin called her again, and Callie took in a pained breath.
Should she just ignore him? He was no doubt angry and trying to find her. Accepting a call could help him triangulate her location and reveal where she was. It was a risk to answer. To be safe, she should reset her comm, changing her number, and clearing her contacts.
She didn't do that just yet, but she also didn't answer his calls. The message from Nakita's friend came, and Callie used her comm to find the drop spot. Over an hour of cautious walking through the tight corridors of the maintenance hallways to reach the drop spot. By the time she arrived, Callie was woozy, staggering on her feet, her throat burning.
The drop spot was in a small nesh, tucked behind a smooth panel that looked identical to all the others in the tunnel. Without the exact directions, Callie would have never found the hidden cubby. Inside, she found a backpack filled with two pairs of clothes, some bland nutrition bars, and some small bottles of water.
She opened the inner pocket, noting three plungers with energy gel and fresh bandages. A fourth item, like an asthma inhaler, rested next to the plungers. It contained an energy gas that would help soothe her damaged lungs. Next to them was a thick bundle of alcohol wipes. Wincing, she removed her blazer and removed the blood-soaked strips of her shirt. She used the alcohol wipes to clean around the wounds. She depressed one plunger, pushing out thick grey gel into each wound before re-wrapping her arm with fresh bandages.
Her wounds stung as she placed globs of gel over the cuts, but she ignored the pain. The wounds on her back were a pain in the ass, and she did the best she could, but she couldn't get gel on everything.
She spent nearly an hour sitting in an isolated maintenance stairwell, applying gel and gently wrapping her wounds. She pulled the inhaler from the bag, and popped the cap, taking a deep breath of the gas. Her vision blurred, and her lungs felt like they were on fire, burning from the fumes.
She coughed, her throat and lungs aching profusely. She took deep, rhythmic breaths, her eyes watering with each breath. The damage to her lungs was worse than she thought. The inhaler had instructions on the back, recommending three doses a day. She winced at that thought. One dose almost made her pass out from the pain. She was not excited for three doses a day.
Callie, having wrapped all of her wounds as best she could, dressed in her new clothes, needing Taniyas leather belt to hold up the too loose pants. They were clearly a mans cloths, but Callie didn't mind. The baggy pants were nice, as they wouldn't rub against her bandages.
Using the alcohol wipes, she cleaned up her hands and face, cleaning off the blood as best she could. It helped, but Callie needed a long shower and a scrub brush to feel clean.
She adjusted the silvery green knife under her the heavy green jacket, disguising the weapon's bulge. Callie pulled out a nutrition bar, biting down, and grimacing at the stale cherry flavour. She took a swig of water, choking it down, and grimacing as the food slid down her damaged throat.
Her comm bussed again, and Callie sighed. She pulled up her holographic display and dismissed the call. She might call him later, but only once she boarded a merchant ship departing the city. Callie stood slowly, lifting her backpack and glancing at the blood-soaked blazer, bloody pants and torn shirt.
Her clothes looked like they fell into a bloody shredder. Callie shudder. Was that all her blood? No, most of the blood on the blazer and her torn shirt weren't hers. It was the ambassadors. She slumped her shoulders, clutching the shoulder straps of her backpack.
She bundled up her torn pants and shirt in the blue blazer, planning to dump them later. Lastly, she wiped up the floor with some wipes. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. The stairwell just needed to not look like a crime scene. Now done with the monotonous cleanup, Callie left the maintenance stairwell and headed in a circuitous route to the city's space port.