And to the empire’s, he’d undoubtedly planned to say, but this time Aranea was the one to cut him off.
“Enough. What is this, a battle of wits, loser takes all?”
Both Loqi and the girl turned to look at her.
“Tell me, Blondie. How well can you pilot that thing when she’s in there with you, crowding the cockpit?”
Loqi fumbled for a response.
“And you, kid. Come talk to me in about a decade if you’re serious about killing some daemons.”
The girl’s lips tightened. Aranea saw something she recognized in the expression. She’d probably made the exact same face, a long time ago. In fact, she would have been right around the same age. That was when the daemons had shown up. A whole pack of them, ravaging the only home she’d ever known.
The children had been quickly herded into the village church and told to hide in the basement. To stay there and keep quiet. Then the adults―Aranea’s parents among them―readied their weapons and prepared to fight.
I wanna go, too! I can help! I can fight!
She’d shouted after them, desperate not to be left behind. She had felt it in her bones that once her parents walked out that door, she’d never see them again.
No. Out of the question.
It was exactly how one of the adults back then had responded, tone firm but face betraying anguish. She knew it had been one of the villagers, and she could remember the voice, but beyond that, few details came into focus.
Ha. Let’s talk about it when you’re a decade older.
It was her father who had said that.
Listen to your father, her mother had added. Wait here. The younger children need you. Look after them. Understand?
The gentle firmness of their expressions cut off any further protest. As Aranea watched them go, it took everything she had to fight back the tears.
“I don’t know who the kid is to you, but I take it she’s important,” she said to Loqi, back in the moment.
The girl stood with Loqi’s great mantle wrapped around her, enveloped in its folds. There was little risk of anything penetrating the armor plating of a heavy MA like the Cuirass, but as the suit jerked around, an extra occupant in the cockpit could easily end up being buffeted against the hard interior surfaces. The thick fabric of the mantle was probably Loqi’s way of keeping the girl uninjured.
“I am under the direct orders of His Radiance, to be executed with utmost discretion,” Loqi proclaimed. “My duty is to secure this girl and ensure her safety.”
“Seems like a pretty good reason to get her the hell away from this war zone,” Aranea responded. “You ever think of that?”
When Loqi had lifted the girl down from the cockpit, he’d done it with great care. He held the girl like he was handling a piece of delicate glasswork. Obviously, she was important to somebody for some reason.
“You can put your own life on the line, but you shouldn’t bet someone else’s.”
Aranea glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, there were more daemons inbound. Flying ones, and too damn many of them. They were still in the center of the danger zone, and if Diamond Weapon was going to be stopped, she needed to get the hell out of there.
Wedge came in over the comm. “Sorry for the wait.”
Perfect timing. Aranea held a hand out to the girl. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s leave this fight up to our big, bold hero.”
She heard the dropship approaching overhead, and then it was smoothly descending to their position. The girl stepped forward, uncertain. Aranea reached out and picked her up.
She looked back at Loqi. “Let’s just say you owe me for this one too.”
“Thank you, Aranea.”
Granted, she was leaving the poor sap and his Cuirass alone with a boatload of daemons. That probably meant they were already even.
“She is in your hands,” Loqi said.
Aranea turned and gave what was probably the last imperial salute she’d ever give. Her resignation had already been tendered, and she was a soldier no more. If she hadn’t had the comm right next to her, she might have missed Loqi’s next words. They were soft but certain. “It has been an honor to serve with you.”
Aranea held her salute, watching him, but made a point of giving him no verbal response. The dropship hatch yawned open, and she leapt inside, still clutching the girl. She saw Loqi returning her salute.
“Tenebrae,” she ordered Wedge. “Let’s go!”
Aranea closed the hatch and put the girl down in an empty seat. No more deaths today. Not the girl, not Biggs or the kids on the train, and not a single one of the people going about their lives in Tenebrae.
Their craft shot forward. The last thing she saw below was the Cuirass, firing machine-gun rounds wildly into the oncoming wave of daemons. She thought she caught Loqi’s voice blaring over the MA’s speakers. The sun will rise once more. Glory be to the Niflheim Empire!
She turned her attention forward. “Wedge, we’re gonna beat that monster into the ground.”
It was the only way to save everyone. They couldn’t afford to fail.
“This will be our final mission,” she added. “So let’s make it good.”
The dropship accelerated into a sharp climb, shaking off the last few daemons hot on their tail, and they were on their way.
Once the ship was out of Gralean airspace, they set a straight-line course for Tenebrae. They passed over the white monotony of snowdrifts for a while, then the vast expanse of the sea, until finally they were above dark earth and forest.
They skillfully dodged or shot down the occasional flying daemon. Fortunately, the things were few in number, so they couldn’t cause too much trouble. Most of their disgusting friends were probably still busy tearing up the capital.
Wedge was uncharacteristically talkative during the ride. The man usually didn’t say much, but every once in a while the words came rushing out of him like water from a busted dam.
“Wouldn’t have guessed it from him,” he said. “Loqi, of all people, signin’ off like that.”
It seemed that Wedge had caught the commander’s faint message, too.
“Sure isn’t something we’d ever catch you sayin,’” he added.
“Damn right. Who talks like that?” she replied. “And to people you serve with every day. Honestly.”