Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ten years ago…

“No fair!” Powder whined, her voice cracking with frustration as Vi scooped up the pile of credits. “You lied!”

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Vi teased, already reshuffling the deck. “That’s literally the whole point of Dreadnaught, Powder. Not my fault you’re gullible.”

“Viiii!” she whined again, dragging out the name like it might change something.

Vi just grinned, teeth flashing, the picture of smug older-sister satisfaction. She flicked a card across the crate they were using as a table.

“You and Mylo always lie,” Powder grumbled. “Claggor’s the only one who plays fair.”

“Yeah, and that’s why Claggor always loses,” Vi laughed. It was true. Claggor couldn’t bluff his way out of an empty cargo bay.

She loved days like this—quiet ones, simple ones. The kind where she and her sister could sit on the back porch, legs swinging off the edge, playing cards like the war didn’t exist. Like they were just normal kids.

The war was ending. That’s what Vander had been saying, at least. Peace talks, council votes, compromises. But Vi had seen enough death to know, that kind of peace came with a price. And they’d already paid so much.

Their parents had been taken in one of the early strikes on Zaun. AS troops had kicked down their door, and opened fire before Felicia or Connol could even stand up. They would’ve killed Vi and Powder, too, had they been found.

Vander had found them afterward. He, Benzo, and Silco were sweeping through the rubble for survivors. And when he saw Vi, bleeding but still alive, still cradling her sister in a collapsed storage locker, something in him changed. They weren’t just survivors—they were his.

“Just because you win,” Powder muttered, eyes fixed on the cards, “doesn’t make it right.”

There was a weight in her voice she didn’t yet understand. A kind of accidental wisdom. Vi looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and flashed a crooked smirk.

“Maybe not,” she said, “but it does make me ten credits richer. Now come on—burn a card.”

They were two hands into the next round when it happened. A deep, concussive boom rolled through the air like a growl from the gods. The ground shook. The crate rattled beneath their hands. Vi and Powder froze, then looked at each other in perfect, sudden stillness.

Without a word, they bolted—cards forgotten, credits scattered—racing to the front of the house to see what had happened.

There, in the sky, was a ship. Massive. Flaming. Falling.

It tore through the clouds like a dying star, its hull splintered, trailing molten wreckage behind it in a slow, spiraling descent.

“What the fuck…?” Vi whispered.

Before she could take another step, Vander was there—running toward them, boots pounding against the ground.

“Girls!” he barked, urgency sharp in his voice. “We need to go. Now.”

He didn’t wait for questions. He wrapped a hand around each of them and pulled them toward the landing pad. There, waited The Gauntlet, a sleek, heavily modified mid-class starship—long and angular, with a low profile and reinforced hull plating that gave it a distinct, almost predatory silhouette. It was built for speed and survivability, its frame tapering toward a sharp nose and swept-back stabilizers that helped with maneuvering through debris fields, asteroid belts, or tight orbital entries.The hull was matte gray with a hint of gunmetal blue, scarred in places from old skirmishes and near-misses, but well-maintained where it mattered.

But right now, Vi couldn’t care less about the ship she’d come to know and love so well. 

“Vander, what’s—?”

“I don’t know, Violet,” he cut in, voice low and tense. “Nobody does. But one of the Allies’ ships just fell out of the damn sky, and they are not gonna take that lightly.”

Powder looked up at him, eyes wide. “What do we do?”

Vander glanced down. His face softened, just for a second.

“We’re getting you and your sister off-world. Just until we figure out what happened. Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

“What?” Vi stopped in her tracks, yanking her arm away. “Vander, no way! Fuck that—I’m not leaving without you!”

“Vi,” he said firmly, “if there’s any chance of holding this ceasefire together, I have to stay and talk this out. If I disappear right after one of their envoy ships gets shot down, what do you think they’re going to do? I have to do this.”

They were at the ramp now. The Gauntlet’s engines thrummed low. 

“Vander…” Vi’s voice wavered.

He turned to face her and dropped to one knee, his hands on her shoulders.

“Violet,” he said gently, “I’ll have Viktor bring you back down as soon as it’s safe. But right now, I need you to go. Please. Do this for me.”

Vi’s mouth opened to protest, but she saw it in his eyes—this wasn’t up for debate. As much as she hated it, she knew what she had to do.

Vander pulled both girls in, held them tight.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Both of you. So, so much.”

Vi clung to him, jaw clenched, trying not to cry. Powder buried her face in his shoulder, already trembling.

And then it was over, far too quickly. 

Vi reluctantly pulled away. She took Powder’s hand and led her up the ramp, her heart thudding like a drum. The hatch sealed shut behind them with a cold finality.

The Gauntlet’s thrusters hummed to life.

“Coordinates locked,” Viktor announced. “Ascending to orbit.”

Vi didn’t speak. She didn’t look back.

The two waited on board for hours.

Silence.

Vi wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The stillness made everything feel suspended, like the universe was holding its breath. But time kept dragging on, and exhaustion finally pulled her under.

She shuffled to the captain’s quarters and collapsed onto the bed.

Even when planetside, Vi had always loved sleeping on the Gauntlet. Something about it made everything feel… possible. Like the galaxy was hers. Hers and Powder’s. A place where they could go anywhere, outrun anything.

She let herself drift off, hoping sleep would carry her somewhere better than this.

Some time later, a small voice pulled her back.

“Vi?”

Vi blinked awake. Powder stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Vi sat up. “What’s wrong?”

Powder didn’t answer. She just pointed to the window.

Vi turned—and everything inside her stilled.

Out past the viewport, high above Targon, hung a strange formation. Towering black pillars—ten, maybe more—were drifting into a wide ring around the planet, each one glowing with deep, pulsing red light.

“What… is that?” Vi whispered. Her heart had already started to race. “Viktor?”

“Yes, Vi?” came the AI’s calm voice.

“What the fuck are we looking at?”

“Scanning…” A beat passed. “I am detecting high-intensity microwave radiation. The signal is consistent with energy weapon priming. The levels are increasing rapidly.”

Vi stared. Her mouth was dry. “What is it?”

“Based on the structure and deployment pattern, this appears to be a multi-target orbital cannon. I am unable to locate this design in any known databases. Its existence is undocumented.”

Powder moved closer to her sister, eyes wide. “Vi?”

Vi stared out of the window in horror as the realization set in. 

“They’re… they’re gonna kill everyone,” she said, voice cracking. “Viktor, we have to go back. We have to help him.”

“I’m sorry, Vi. I cannot deviate from my active protocol.”

“No—no, fuck that! We’re not leaving him down there! Take us back down now!”

“I cannot comply. I am currently locked under Bedrock Protocol.”

“What the hell is Bedrock Protocol?!”

“I am to keep you and your sister off-world until given clearance by the captain himself.”

“Then fuck you!” Vi yelled. “I’ll fly the ship myself!”

She moved for the door, but it slammed shut before she could reach it, locking her and Powder in the quarters. 

“No!” she screamed, slamming her fists against the metal. “Let me out! Viktor, please let me out! We can’t just leave him!”

She pounded the door again and again, raw fury tearing at her voice. “Please, Viktor! Don’t do this to me!”

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Viktor said softly. “I am unable to break protocol.”

Vi sprinted to the door, slamming her shoulder into the unmoving metal.

She cried out in pain as her shoulder gave a sickening “pop”. She staggered back, chest heaving, hands shaking.

”Vi…” Powder whispered tearfully. Vi turned to her sister, then looked back out the window once again.

Outside, the pillars glowed brighter. So bright it hurt to look at them.

Then the beams came.

Brilliant, blinding red lances cut down from the pillars, punching through the atmosphere and into the planet below. Even from orbit, the damage was visible—shockwaves racing across the surface, whole cities reduced to light and ash, Targon’s crust glowing like it had been set aflame.

Vi fell to her knees.

“No!” she sobbed. “No, no, no—”

Powder dropped beside her, crawling into Vi’s arms as if trying to hide from what she couldn’t look away from.

Vi pulled her close, holding her like a shield against the horror outside. Powder was shaking, her tiny hands clutching Vi’s shirt, her face buried against her chest.

“Is he…?” she whispered.

Vi didn’t have an answer. She didn’t have anything.

She just held her sister and cried, the two of them trembling together as the world below burned.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Helloooooo? Vi?” Ekko’s voice pulled Vi back to the present—and for that, she was grateful.

She tried not to think about The Glassing. But it was hard not to. Especially on Restoration Day. What a sick fucking joke. Celebrating the day a planet died.

She blinked, pulling herself back to the bright lights of the kitchen. “Sorry. What’s up?”

Ekko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No luck decrypting the transmissions. Whoever ‘M’ is, they’re not leaving anything to chance.”

Vi nodded and shrugged. “Well, considering they paid up front—and twice what we usually charge for a recovery job—they could be five yordles in a trench coat for all I care.”

Ekko snorted. “Still… kinda sketchy though, right? No last name for the target, and no name at all for the client. The only thing we’ve got is the name ‘Caitlyn’ and the letter ‘M’. It all screams ‘set-up,’ doesn’t it?”

Vi dug through the fridge, finally settling on a protein bar. She unwrapped and bit into it with no particular enthusiasm. “How important do you think we are that someone would pay two thousand credits up front just to kill us?” She chewed and swallowed. “Relax. You and Powder have been watching too many action serials.”

“No such thing, Sis!” Powder shouted from above—just before flipping off the upper deck and landing with a dramatic crouch on the floor below.

Vi sighed. “Pow, we have stairs. And ladders. Two very reasonable, non-death-defying options.”

Powder shrugged, grinning. “Yeah, but this was faster. And, come on, way cooler.”

“Powder is correct, Captain.” Viktor chimed in unhelpfully through the intercom system. “She saved exactly 4.7 seconds by forgoing the use of the ladder, and 16.34 seconds by forgoing the use of the stairs. And… it did look… cool.”

“Yeah. She’s gonna look real cool when she snaps her neck,” Vi muttered.

A second body dropped behind Powder—smaller, but just as dramatic. Isha landed with a thump and an awkward stumble, then beamed up at Powder.

Vi sighed. “Why does God hate me so much he had to make a second Powder?”

Powder ruffled Isha’s hair and gave Vi a self-satisfied smirk. “Jealous she likes me best?”

“Oh my god, I don’t care that the little gremlin likes you. I care about people not treating my ship like a fucking jungle gym.”

“Your ship?” Powder raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Vi crossed her arms. “My ship. You wanna check the registration for the millionth time, or are you tired of losing this argument?”

“It’s bullshit!”

“It’s in my name.”

“Dad would’ve wanted us both to—”

“Vi!” Jayce’s voice rang out from the engineering bay. “You got a sec?”

Vi stared up at the ceiling, exhaling slowly through her nose.

“Coming,” she muttered, mostly to herself. She turned and walked off, leaving Powder, Ekko, and Isha to play house in the kitchen. Vi couldn’t help but laugh sometimes at how clever they thought they were. How discreet. Like no one noticed.

She’d known Powder had a thing for Ekko since the moment they met him back on Zaun, four years ago. He’d been hired as backup for a bounty job. Young, sharp, a little cocky—but solid. The kind of kid who made an impression without trying to.

And when the job went sideways, when they got double crossed by their client, Ekko had kept his head. He’d been the one to pull Powder out—dragging her bleeding ass out of a crossfire Vi didn’t even see coming.

That had been it. Instant, silent devotion. It had earned him a spot aboard The Gauntlet immediately, and a spot in Powder’s heart.

Powder still pretended they were “just friends,” but the way she looked at him? The way she lit up when he was around? And the glances Ekko stole when she walked away?

Vi had eyes. And half a brain.

She wasn’t mad about it. Ekko was one of the few people Vi trusted. And she figured if Powder was going to fall for anyone, it might as well be someone who’d saved her life.

“What do we got, Pretty Boy?” Vi sighed as she climbed down into the engine bay.

Jayce wiped sweat from his brow, only managing to smear more grease across his forehead. “Look, I love putting shit off as much as the next guy, but our fusion core’s about to burn out. Should’ve replaced it last month. We’ve got maybe two days before we’re dead drifting.”

Vi let out a dramatic groan. “Have we already—”

“Drained all the half-dead backups?” he cut in. “Yeah. Weeks ago.”

“What about—”

“Diverted power from non-essentials. Did that last week.”

“Fuuuuuck.” She dragged her hands down her face, accepting her fate. “I fucking hate fusion core day.”

She really did. Four hours of waiting around on some overcrowded station while a bunch of union mechanics plugged in a glorified battery and made her sign ten forms confirming they did it correctly. Bureaucratic hell. 

Jayce nodded sympathetically, but a mischievous grin crept across his face. “You know… there is a new bar on The Narcissa.”

Vi perked up, just slightly. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened. “And I heard they do Topless Tuesdays. And if I’m not mistaken… tomorrow is Tuesday.”

Vi exhaled through her nose, smirking despite herself. Maybe fusion core day wouldn’t be that bad… this time. She hated being stuck on that superstation, but if there was a distraction waiting…

“Jayce,” she said, patting his shoulder, “have I ever told you that you have the best ideas?”

“Statistically,” Viktor chimed in dryly over the intercom, “Crewmate Talis is responsible for 76% of this crew’s failed ventures. He does not have the best ideas.”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Do you have an off switch, Viktor?”

“If you find it, let me know… I could use a nap.”

Vi chuckled to herself as she climbed out of the engineering bay, boots ringing against the metal as she climbed up the ladder. 

She made her way to the cockpit and dropped into the captain’s chair with a sigh, letting her weight sink into it. Her eyes flicked to the data pad still resting on the console. She scrolled through the information and stopped on the picture of their target, They didn't have much, just a first name, Caitlyn, and a picture. She had long hair, a shade of blue so dark it was nearly black, and striking, icy blue eyes that were only accentuated by her sharp features.

She was pretty, very pretty. 

But there was something unsettlingly familiar about her face, as if she’d seen her before but couldn’t quite place where.

“Vik,” she said, scrolling through the job file one last time, “how far out are we from… Caitlyn?”

“We are five minutes and thirty-one seconds from the distress frequency provided by M,” Viktor replied evenly.

Vi gave a single nod, then leaned in and hit the intercom.

“Five minutes out from showtime, people.”

In the kitchen, Powder’s eyes lit up. She all but launched herself toward the cockpit, boots skidding across the floor. Ekko was on her heels, and Isha darted after them, practically glued to Powder’s side.

Powder dropped into the gunner’s seat and cracked her knuckles, grinning as her console powered up. “Guns online.”

“Countermeasures armed and ready,” Ekko added, sliding into his station with practiced ease.

Isha climbed into her usual perch just behind Powder, pulling on her headset and syncing her display to the team’s vitals. She didn’t say anything, but gave Vi a small thumbs-up—her own way of reporting for duty.

“Shields are optimized for structural weak points,” Jayce chimed in over the comms.

Vi cracked her neck and placed both hands on the flight sticks, eyes forward.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go get paid.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Captain, we are approaching the source of the signal,” Viktor announced.

Vi leaned forward in her seat, eyes scanning the empty space outside the viewport. “And not a ship in sight. Ekko? Bio readings?”

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed, typing quickly. “We’ve got at least fifteen markers.” He pointed to a cluster of blips, a crew that would otherwise be invisible.

“Cloaking,” she muttered to herself. “What a chicken-shit trick.”

She shook her head, jaw tight. It reminded her too much of the last person she knew who relied on cloaking tech to hide in their cowardice.

She tapped the comms panel and patched into an open frequency.

“Attention, dumbasses,” she said flatly. “No one with a bio reader is falling for cloaking devices anymore. Prepare to be boarded. You fight, you die.”

There was silence. Too long. Vi let out a breath and motioned toward Powder, who was already hovering over the control panel, to prepare a warning shot.

Then the voice came through.

Smooth. Familiar.

And the last one she ever expected to hear again. One she’d hoped she’d never hear again.

“Violet… and here I thought you knew how to treat a girl.”

Vi froze.

For a split second, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think—just sat there staring at the comms panel as the voice echoed in her ears.

Before she could even process it, the ship ahead flickered—and then revealed itself.

The cloaking field dropped, and there she was.

The Syren.

Sleek. Red. All sharp angles and bad intentions, just like her captain. She drifted through space effortlessly, every inch of her designed for intimidation and speed.

Vi had seen that ship before. She knew what it was capable of.

Infamous. Unwelcome. And now, right in front of her.

Her stomach churned.

Of course it would be her.

“Sarah fucking Fortune,” Vi muttered, the name tasting like ash in her mouth.

Even saying it out loud stung.

Sarah Fortune. Her partner. Her friend. Her lover.

The woman who had stabbed her in the back—both literally and figuratively—and left her for dead.

“It feels so good to hear you say my name again, darling,” Sarah purred through the comms.

Vi’s jaw tightened. She glanced at Powder, who was practically vibrating, fingers hovering over the fire control like she was begging for permission.

Vi shook her head.

She leaned toward the mic. “You know you’re outgunned, Sarah.”

“I do,” Sarah said smoothly. “I also know I have what you want. And I know you’re not going to risk destroying my ship.”

“Wanna bet?” Vi replied coldly, signaling to Powder to prime the weapons system.

Sarah’s laugh came through sharp and amused, like she was genuinely enjoying herself. “Violet, please. This isn’t Dreadnaught. You think I’m going to fall for a bluff like that? You’re reckless, but you’re not stupid.”

Vi clenched her teeth.

Damn it.

She knew Sarah was right. It had been a shitty bluff, and she hadn’t hesitated to call it.

Isha tugged at Vi’s sleeve, urgency written all over her face. She pointed to the scanner—highlighting a flickering gap in The Syren’s shields. A weak point. Small, but just exposed enough that a well-placed ion shot could punch straight into the ship’s skip drive.

Vi stared for a beat, then smirked.

Maybe the little gremlin wasn’t all bad.

She nodded to Powder, silently pointing to the weak point. Powder grinned and primed the weapons again.

“You’re right,” Vi said evenly, eyes on the ship through the viewport. “Shitty bluff. I can’t destroy your ship, Sarah. But I can make today very expensive for you before we board and kill every single one of your shit-faced crew.”

There was a pause on the other end. “And how do you—”

“Do it.”

Powder whooped and slammed her hand down on the fire control. The ion cannon roared—just once. A perfect shot. It sliced through the exposed gap in the Syren’s shields and slammed directly into the skip drive.

A moment later, a puff of white gas vented from the rear of the ship.

Skip drive: dead.

“The longer you piss me off,” Vi said calmly over comms, “the worse your day’s gonna get, Fortune.”

Silence.

Vi leaned back in her chair, satisfied. She knew Sarah wasn’t going anywhere quickly —not without a working skip drive. That was seven thousand credits, gone in a blink, and if Vi knew one thing about Sarah Fortune, it was that nothing mattered to her as much as credits. She had a scar on her back to prove it.

Then, finally:

“Alright, Violet…” Sarah sighed, as though talking to a particularly stubborn child. “Come aboard. Let’s talk.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The hydraulics hissed as The Gauntlet’s docking unit latched onto The Syren, clamps locking with a heavy, metallic thud.

Vi stood at the hatch, scanning over her crew one last time before boarding. Everyone was armed, armored, and ready for whatever Sarah had waiting for them on the other side.

Powder was practically bouncing in place, dual plasma SMGs holstered at her sides and a belt loaded with more grenades than any sane person should carry. Isha stood close to her, suited up and alert, her eyes sharp and hands wrapped firmly around an old pistol.

Ekko slung his weapon across his shoulder—a custom-built coilcaster rifle that fired arcs of chained electrical current. It hummed softly as it charged, lightning crackling faintly across its barrel.

Jayce hefted his Repulsor with a grin, a sledgehammer modified from old mining tech. On impact, it delivered a concussive shockwave strong enough to knock a grown man off his feet—or through a wall.

Vi checked her sidearm out of habit, but she rarely used it. Guns were fine. Her fists were better.

She slipped on her displacement gloves—lightweight, fingerless, unassuming. But when activated, they generated a focused kinetic burst with every punch. They didn’t look like much, but anyone who’d taken a hit from them knew better.

“Alright,” Vi said, her voice calm, even.

“Let’s talk.”

The metal groaned as the docking door slid open, the sound echoing through the narrow corridor beyond.

A wall of unfriendly, mostly drunk pirates stood waiting—blasters drawn, eyes mean.

The Gauntlet’s crew didn’t hesitate. Weapons came up, ready for anything. Powder was already grinning.

The pirates mirrored them, just as quick.

“Lot more of us than you,” one of the pirates growled, stepping forward.

Vi didn’t flinch. “I like our chances,” she said flatly.

The tension thickened—just one wrong move away from gunfire and blunt force trauma.

Then a voice cut through the standoff. Smooth, low, amused.

“Calm down, boys,” a voice… Sarah’s… called out. “This is no way to greet my nearest and dearest.”

One by one, the pirates lowered their weapons—grudgingly, reluctantly. The crew of the Gauntlet followed suit, though none of them looked particularly happy about it.

Vi held her ground as Sarah stepped forward, parting the crowd of pirates like a queen among her court, until the two of them stood face to face for the first time in months.

“Violet Lanes,” Sarah purred. “As stunning as ever. God, I could just eat you up.”

Her eyes dragged slowly over Vi’s frame—muscle, armor, all tension. Then she smirked. “Well. Again.”

“Oh god,” Powder groaned. “Can I please just fucking kill her?”

Sarah’s eyes sparkled as she looked past Vi to her sister. “Powder! Look at you, my little jinx! How are you?”

“Don’t call her that,” Vi snapped, her eyes never leaving Sarah’s.

Sarah raised her hands in mock surrender. “Touchy,” she murmured.

“You know what I’m here for,” Vi said. “Where’s the girl?”

“The girl?” Sarah repeated, like the words tasted strange. She studied Vi for a beat, then laughed—genuinely amused. “Oh my god. You don’t even realize who you’re here for, do you? You think all this trouble’s over some random girl?”

”When someone pays me up front to get a job done, I’m not exactly inclined to ask a lot of questions,” Vi answered, shrugging.

Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “Allow me to enlighten you.”

She turned and beckoned them to follow. Reluctantly, the crew of the Gauntlet moved behind her, keeping their weapons close, eyes wary.

Sarah led them down a black and crimson corridor until they arrived at a small holding cell. She punched in a code, and the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss.

Inside was the woman from the data pad, wrists bound, mouth taped shut, eyes frantically darting with terror.

“The random girl you’re looking for?” Sarah said, voice smug. “Meet Dr. Caitlyn Kiramman.”

Vi’s eyes widened. No wonder Caitlyn looked so familiar, Vi had seen her mother’s face on every piece of propaganda for the past decade.

“Kiramman?” she echoed, stunned. “Jesus Christ, Sarah. You kidnapped the fucking Chairwoman’s daughter? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Out of my mind?” Sarah scoffed. “Violet, don’t insult me by playing dumb. Do you have any idea how many credits I could have gotten for our good doctor here? 

“Not enough for it to be worth every enforcer in the galaxy hunting you from here to Freljord.”

Sarah smiled, that same sharp, infuriating smile she always wore when she thought she was the smartest person in the room.

“You’d be surprised how the right… incentives can make anything worth it.”

“Incentives?” Vi asked, eyes narrowing. She glanced from Sarah to Caitlyn, still bound and taped, and back again. “What do you mean ‘incentives’?”

Sarah shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll never know.”

Vi stared at her, skeptical. “You’re giving her up… that easily?”

Sarah let out a dramatic sigh. “Violet, I may be a sore loser, but I know when I’m beaten. My ship isn’t skipping anywhere, and you’ll make quick work of these idiots—”

She shifted and shot one of the pirates in the head without so much as a glance.

“—in seconds.”

The body hit the floor with a wet thud. Caitlyn flinched violently, letting out a muffled whimper through the tape over her mouth.

Sarah rolled her eyes at Caitlyn. “Oh, for god’s sake. You’re a doctor! You’ve seen worse.” Sarah’s eyes flicked back to Vi, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“She’s all yours, Violet. Just… be a dear—keep the tape on her Piltie mouth until she’s back on your ship? If I have to hear that fucking accent again, I might jettison all of us out into space.”

Vi glanced at the woman in the cell. She had to admit, she wasn’t exactly in a hurry to hear from a Piltie, let alone a fucking Kiramman.

She pointed at one of the pirates. “You. Get her up and out here. Now.”

Sarah chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “You don’t even trust me to keep a door open for you?”

“Sarah, I wouldn’t trust you to tell me what color underwear you’re wearing.” Vi muttered, arms crossed. 

“Who says I’m wearing any?” Sarah asked, all smiles.

“Please,” Powder groaned. “Please, for the love of god, let me fucking kill this bitch.”

Sarah nodded at one of the pirates. “I mean it. Tape stays on.”

The pirate gave a curt nod, then yanked Caitlyn to her feet—half leading, half dragging her back down the corridor as the crew of the Gauntlet fell into step, escorting their VIP back toward the docking port.

Once the others were aboard and settling in, Vi lingered—face to face with Sarah one last time.

Sarah made no effort to hide the way her eyes swept over Vi’s frame, lingering with that same infuriating, appreciative look.

“It really was good to see you again, Violet,” she said softly. “Though I’d have preferred it be on the Narcissa… a bottle of wine… that little Noxian place you always swore you didn’t like.”

She reached out, fingers lightly resting on Vi’s chest.

“I’ve missed you.”

Vi closed her eyes, took a breath, and gently removed Sarah’s hand.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” She muttered dryly.

Sarah pouted, exaggerated. “Don’t be mean.”

Vi’s eyes snapped wide. “You fucking stabbed me! And left me for dead!”

“And I apologized!” Sarah insisted.

“No!” Vi shot back, exasperated, “You didn’t! At no point did you apologize for stabbing me, taking my credits, and leaving me bleeding out on Ionia!”

“Well…” Sarah tilted her head. “I meant to.”

Vi scoffed. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Sarah brightened. “Now you’re getting it.”

Her eyes softened just slightly as she stepped in closer.

”I really am sorry, Violet…” she said softly, sweetly.

Her hand grazed Vi’s cheek, slow and familiar, before she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Vi’s lips. For one infuriating, humiliating second, Vi kissed her back—eyes closed, body responding out of nothing but muscle memory and old heat.

Her eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how wrong this was, and she shoved Sarah back with force.

“Fuck you, Fortune,” she growled, wiping the kiss from her mouth.

Sarah tilted her head, completely unfazed, that smug smile never leaving her lips.

“Mmm. Maybe next time.”

She turned to leave, her steps light, theatrical as ever—but then paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Do yourself a favor. Keep the tape on. Once she starts, she doesn’t stop.”

Vi turned on her heel and stormed back into the Gauntlet—only to walk straight into a look of utter disbelief from her sister.

“Dude…” Powder said, voice flat with judgment.

“Not a word,” Vi muttered, dragging a hand down her face. She brushed past Powder and stepped into the Gauntlet, and was immediately met with the incredulous, rapid-fire voice she’d just been warned about.

“Finally!” Caitlyn snapped, as Ekko peeled the tape from her mouth. “Do you have any idea how unsanitary that was? I mean, honestly. God, that tape was over my mouth for hours. Not to mention the bruising, the restraint marks…my circulation is shot, and don’t even get me started on the smell in that cell—”

Vi stopped in the middle of the corridor and blinked.

Powder leaned in, whispering just loud enough for her to hear. “Starting to get why Sarah taped her mouth shut?”

Caitlyn turned to them, oblivious. “I don’t mean to complain, of course—well, I do, only reasonably—but I was kidnapped, you see, and no one seems particularly interested in apologizing for it. And frankly, I’m beginning to think this rescue operation is only marginally more professional than the people who abducted me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take it up with whoever the hell ‘M’ is,” Vi said, cutting her off. “Maybe next time they’ll send the cavalry.”

Caitlyn’s eyes lit up. “‘M’?” Then a grin spread across her face, full of amused recognition. “Oh, Mel, you brilliant, brilliant woman! I could kiss you! I absolutely owe her dinner once I’m back in Piltover. She never ceases to amaze—”

“Jesus, lady, do you ever just… stop?” Vi sighed.

Caitlyn blinked at her, mildly offended. “For a rescue team, you’re really quite rude.”

“Vik, make a memo, work on people skills,” Vi called out dryly.

“Affirmative, Captain.” 

“Vik?” Caitlyn asked, eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“Welcome aboard The Gauntlet, Doctor Kiramman,” the AI replied. “I am a Virtual Intelligence Kernel for Threat Observation and Response. But you may call me V.I.K.T.O.R.”

Caitlyn tilted her head. “I’ve never met an AI with such… personality.”

“I was modified by the former captain of this ship to provide a more comforting presence on board.”

“I see,” Caitlyn said. “And what exactly happened to the former—”

“We’re heading out,” Vi cut in sharply. “Strap in and get ready to skip.”

The crew took their places in the cockpit, settling into their stations as the skip countdown began. Caitlyn, without hesitation, or permission, slid into the otherwise permanently vacant co-pilot seat.

Vi raised an eyebrow.

“Jump seat’s over there,” she said, nodding toward the padded fold-out near Jayce’s engine controls.

Caitlyn gave a nonchalant shrug. “This one looks more comfortable.”

Vi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just… don’t touch anything, alright?”

“With how filthy this ship is? Not a problem,” Caitlyn replied, wrinkling her nose.

Vi rolled her eyes. “Ekko?”

“Powering up the skip drive now,” he called from his station. “Should be ready in twenty seconds.”

Vi gave a nod, then turned her gaze back to Caitlyn.

“Pretty clever of your friend to keep her cards so close to her chest. Probably could’ve negotiated five times the contract.”

Caitlyn smirked, unbothered. “Like I said. She’s brilliant.”

“Captain, I’m detecting an unfamiliar transmission signal in the engineering bay,” Viktor announced.

Vi snapped her head toward the console. “What?”

“Five seconds to skip!” Ekko called.

Before Vi could respond, the open comms crackled to life again—static warping into a voice she recognized immediately.

“Like I said, Violet,” Sarah teased. “I’m a sore loser.”

And then the skip engaged.

The lights flared. The Gauntlet jolted forward, and then, something went terribly wrong.

A deafening blast rocked the cabin, rattling everyone in their seats. Alarms screamed to life. Every light flashed from the navigation panel.The ship shuddered violently as it tore into skipspace off-course.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The Gauntlet tore out of skipspace in a violent lurch, alarms still blaring.

“Jayce!” Powder shouted, gripping Isha tightly. “What the fuck just happened?!”

“There was a blast in the engineering bay!” he yelled back.

“One of those pirates must’ve planted a charge while we were grabbing the VIP!” Vi shook her head furiously, Stupid, she should’ve had someone keep watch  

“I have a name!” Caitlyn chimed in indignantly.

“Shut up!” Powder, Jayce, and Vi snapped in unison.

Vi turned back to the viewport, heart thudding. Her breath caught in her chest.

They weren’t anywhere near Piltover.

They were headed straight for Zaun.

The ship shook as it entered the upper atmosphere—uncontrolled, off-course, and falling fast.

“We’re coming in way too hot! We’re fucked!” Ekko shouted, panic in his voice.

“Viktor!” Vi called out. “Current odds of survival?”

“…Two percent,” he replied evenly.

”Oh! Great!” Powder laughed humorlessly. 

Vi scanned the cockpit, eyes flying from console to crew, thinking fast.

“We need to lower our impact speed! Jayce! Drop shields to zero! Reroute everything to the thrusters, now! And when I say so, throw full power back to the shields!”

“Got it!” Jayce yelled, already moving. The ship groaned violently as the thrusters kicked in, struggling against the pull of Zaun’s gravity.

“Vik! How are we looking now?!”

“If this emergency maneuver is executed correctly… fifty-one point seven percent.”

“Progress,” Vi muttered to herself. “Hold on, everyone!”

The surface of Zaun rushed toward them—no city lights, no towers, just wilderness. Rural. Untouched.

The ground drew closer.

“Impact in five…” Viktor calmly announced 

“Wait for it…”

”Four…”

”Not yet…”

”Three.”

“Aaaaaand.”

“Two…”

“Now!”

The Gauntlet dropped into a sudden, terrifying free fall as the thrusters cut and the shields flared back to full power.

The ship slammed into the surface. Its hull screamed as it skidded, leaving a deep trench in its wake.

And the last thing Vi saw was the terrified face of the talkative Piltie that had her in this fucking situation to begin with. 

Then darkness. 

 Silence. 

To The Ends Of The Universe

Chapter Text

Caitlyn Kiramman had always—for better or worse—believed in helping people, in any way she could.

It was what led her to pursue medicine like her father, rather than step into the political arena like her mother, much to Cassandra Kiramman’s ongoing disappointment.

It was what pushed her to put her private practice on hold when a terrifying new disease—colloquially known as The Tremor—began breaking out in clusters across the galaxy.

And it was what had ultimately led her to this moment… Aching all over, her ears ringing, a muffled voice shouting at her, and the unmistakable scent of smoke, thick in the air.

“Hey! Hey! Come on, wake up. Please wake up.”

The face came into focus. Messy red hair. Piercings. A tattoo under her left eye. A scar on her lip.

It was her. Violet. She’d heard her captor call her that.

The one who had rescued her.

The one currently shaking her shoulder, eyes wild and jaw clenched, looking like she’d been through hell and back.

Caitlyn let out a low groan, and the sound made the captain sag with visible relief.

“Oh thank god,” she breathed, laughing slightly. “I thought we were about to owe your friend two thousand credits.”

“Nice to know you care…” Caitlyn muttered, wincing as she reached up to unfasten herself from the seat.

Violet shrugged. “What can I say? I’m all heart.” She looked Caitlyn up and down. “Anything broken? Everything where it should be?”

Caitlyn took a moment to test her range of motion, gently flexing her limbs and pressing along her ribs, shoulders, and abdomen—giving herself a few careful jabs to check for internal damage.

“Everything feels alright,” Caitlyn said, scanning herself one last time. Then her eyes shifted. “What about your crew?”

“Yeah, everybody’s fine. Just—nngh!” Vi groaned, clutching her head with one hand as her stance suddenly wavered.

“Violet?” Caitlyn shot up from her seat.

“Just… Vi,” she mumbled. “I’m fine. Just… headache. From the crash.”

Caitlyn watched as Vi swayed on her feet. “Are you feeling… dizzy at all, Vi?”

“Mmm… a little. Why?”

Caitlyn pursed her lips. “Do you have a medical bay on this ship?”

Vi gave her a look like she’d asked if the Gauntlet came with engines. “Of course we have a med bay. What kind of mercenary ship doesn’t have a—ahhhh!”

She staggered again, gripping her head.

“Vi?” The blue-haired girl ran over, catching her just in time, steadying her by the arm. “Sis, what’s going on?”

“I’m good… Powder. I’m good.”

“She is not good,” Caitlyn said firmly, stepping in. “She’s concussed.” She looked at Powder. “Can you help us get to the med bay?”

Powder nodded quickly and slipped under Vi’s other arm, helping guide her through the darkened corridors of the crashed ship

The med bay was dimly lit, humming with backup power. The walls were lined with diagnostic consoles and suspended cabinets that had barely stayed shut after the crash. Powder hit a panel on the wall, and with a mechanical whirr, a bed extended out.

“Help me set her down,” Caitlyn ordered.

Powder nodded, guiding her sister onto the bed. Vi winced but didn’t resist much beyond a half-hearted, “I said I’m fine…”

Caitlyn was already scanning the cabinets. “Do you have a neural scanner?” she asked, not looking up.

“Top left,” Powder muttered, then stepped back, her eyes flickering nervously as Caitlyn powered up the scanner.

“This’ll only take a second,” Caitlyn said, switching the device on. The scanner buzzed softly, casting a soft blue light across Vi’s temple and eyes.

Vi winced. “Feels like someone’s drilling into my skull.”

“That’s the concussion talking,” Caitlyn murmured, her focus on the device. A soft chime rang out, confirming the readings. Elevated cranial pressure. Mild cortical disruption.

“You’ve got a Grade 1 concussion,” Caitlyn said, her voice even. “You need to rest—no activity, no sudden movements, and definitely no piloting anything.”

Vi glanced around the disheveled, wrecked ship. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but there’s not exactly anything I can pilot anyway…”

She started to sit up, but Caitlyn stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“What did I just say?” Caitlyn scolded. “No activity. No sudden movements.”

Vi pushed her hand away. “I’m not exactly in the best place to get some rest.”

Caitlyn gave her a baffled look. “You’re in a fully stocked med bay. What could possibly be a better place than this?”

Vi sat up again, slower this time. “Preferably somewhere that isn’t a big, smoking target for every Ravager in this goddamn canyon.”

Caitlyn looked between her and Powder, frowning. “Ravager?”

Vi blinked. “You’ve… never heard of a Ravager?”

Powder made a face. “Think pirates, but less charming and more cannibal-adjacent.”

“I… I’ve heard of Ravagers,” Caitlyn said slowly. “The men with torn faces…  Speechless screamers… They’re…  a scary story. Something parents started telling their kids a few years ago to get them to behave. A costume people wear during the Harrowing Festival.”

Vi scoffed and shook her head. “You’re a long way from Piltover, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn was too shaken by the revelation to even register the jab of a nickname.

“Ravagers… are real.”

She wasn’t asking. More like telling herself. Like saying it out loud would help the part of her brain that still hadn’t fully caught up.

That part of her that had never seen monsters outside of horror serials. Who never believed something so vile could actually exist. 

“Oh, they’re fucking real, alright,” came a new voice from the doorway. A man stood there, broad-shouldered and streaked with engine grease. “Real—and worse than the stories.”

“How we looking, Jayce?” Vi muttered, pressing her fingers to her temples in a futile attempt to calm the headache creeping back in.

Jayce tilted his head, ticking off points on his fingers. “Well, the bad news is… our engineering bay’s fried, one of the engines needs a full replacement, and the fusion core got completely torched in the emergency landing. So yeah—we’re not going anywhere.”

Vi groaned. “The good news?”

Jayce grinned. “I looked into it, and it’s true. That bar on the Narcissa does have Topless Tuesdays.”

Caitlyn made a face, glancing between the three to determine if this was some weird, tacky joke. 

Vi sighed, dragging her hand down her face. “Jayce.”

He raised both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright—actual good news: I’ve got a pretty good idea of where we crashed, and there’s a town not too far from here with a mechanic who owes me. Big time.”

Powder rolled her eyes. “Lead with that, Jayce. Lead with the actual good news.”

“And… where are we, exactly?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi gestured vaguely out the porthole. “The green sky doesn’t narrow it down for you?”

Caitlyn stared at her, clearly waiting for a real answer.

Vi sighed. “We’re on Zaun.”

Caitlyn’s stomach dropped. “…Zaun?”

Powder tilted her head, studying her reaction. “What’s that face about?”

Caitlyn tried to recover, smoothing out her voice. “I just… I’ve only heard stories. I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been a lot of places, have you, Cupcake?” Vi said—half amused, half annoyed.

There it was again. That damned nickname. Another fight for another day.

Caitlyn shook her head. “No… this is actually the first time I’ve ever been outside the developed systems and—”

She paused. The room had shifted. Gone still. Tight. She looked at the crew—and saw the way they stiffened.

Only then did she realize with horror what she’d just said.

“Oh… my god. I’m— I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“So that’s still how Core Worlders talk, huh?” Vi muttered, rising from the bed.

“Really, I didn’t mean—”

“Save it.”

Vi pushed past her and left the med bay without another word.

Caitlyn gave both Powder and Jayce an apologetic look.

Powder met it with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow—then turned and walked out after her sister without saying a word.

Caitlyn turned to Jayce. “I’m… so sorry. That’s just how we refer to the Core Worlds and the Fringe Worlds. I wasn’t even thinking when I—”

“I’m from Piltover,” Jayce cut in.

Caitlyn’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh my god. Okay, so you understand where I’m coming from when—”

“I’ve never, not once, pulled that ‘developed–undeveloped’ class bullshit,” he said flatly. “Where you’re from isn’t an excuse. Piltie.” And with that, he walked out, leaving Caitlyn alone in the med bay.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Ekko!” Vi called as she stepped into the core systems bay, eager to get rid of the bad taste of that last conversation. “How we doing with getting Vik back online?”

Both Ekko and Isha popped their heads up from behind a nest of exposed cabling. Ekko sighed, half-buried in wires.

“Vik himself is fine—unit’s intact,” he said. “But with the fusion core fried, getting him fully operational on the ship is… next to impossible.”

Vi frowned. “So he’s what—stuck in a cyber coma?”

“Not necessarily,” Ekko said, and a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Isha stepped forward and carefully set a smooth, metal sphere onto the table beside them.

“I think it’s time to test the mobile housing prototype.”

Vi eyed the device skeptically. “You think it’s ready?”

Ekko shrugged, but his smile widened. “I think now’s the perfect time to find out.”

Vi eyed the device on the table, arms crossed tight over her chest.

“Will it… I don’t know, hurt him?” she asked, more cautiously than she meant to.

Ekko glanced up from the wiring and gave a small, reassuring smile. “Vik’s an AI, Vi. No nerve endings. No pain. Just code and processing power.”

She exhaled slowly, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “Right. Yeah. I just—”

“You care,” Ekko finished gently. “It’s okay.”

Vi didn’t respond to that. Just gave a brief nod.

“If you’re sure,” she said, stepping back, “then let’s try it.”

Ekko nodded to Isha. She moved carefully, ejecting Viktor’s AI unit from the main server and slotting it into the metal orb with practiced precision. Then she stepped back.

For a beat, nothing happened.

Vi frowned. “Did it—”

“Give it a sec,” Ekko cut in.

With a sudden whir, the orb sparked to life. It launched itself off the table in a burst of rapid motion.

“Recalibrating… new vessel detected,” Viktor’s voice crackled through the smaller speaker, just slightly distorted. “Maneuverability: increased. Hull integrity: significantly decreased. Captain?”

Vi blinked—then grinned as the little drone zipped from one corner of the room to the other, bouncing off walls and consoles with metallic clangs.

“Easy, Vik! Easy!” she called, ducking as the orb ricocheted off a wall and spun midair. “The Gauntlet’s down, so this is your new… home. For now.”

“Ekko’s mobile housing prototype?” Viktor asked, stabilizing mid-hover.

“That’d be the one,” Ekko replied, arms crossed, clearly proud.

There was a brief pause as the drone steadied, rotating slowly with a soft mechanical hum.

“I find this vessel… acceptable. I will continue to adjust.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow and looked at Vi. “Was that… a compliment?”

Vi smirked. “That, or the closest we’ll ever get to one.”

Powder caught up to Vi—and froze, jaw dropping at the sight in front of her.

“Holy shit, you did it!” she laughed, then sprinted over to Ekko, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

She stared up at him, admiration and wonder all over her face.

Then she caught sight of Vi watching them.

She cleared her throat, quickly stepping back. “Good job, Ekko. And… Isha.”

Vi rolled her eyes. Someday their little charade would end. But apparently, today wasn’t that day.

Powder turned her attention to the newly mobile Viktor. “And look at you! God, you’re so cute!”

The orb hovered in place for a moment. “I am… cute?”

Powder nodded, grinning ear to ear. “The cutest. Makes me wanna give you a little top hat or something.”

“…I would like a top hat.”

“And I would like to get somewhere safe before dark,” Vi cut in. “We ready to move out?”

“But Vi, your head…” Powder said, frowning.

“Not gonna have to worry about my head if a Ravager’s picking my cartilage out of its teeth, am I?” Vi muttered. She turned back to Viktor. “Vik, how much sunlight do we have?”

“Locally, it is 13:01,” Viktor replied. “The sun will set today at 19:17.”

Vi nodded. “Alright, people, listen up! We’ve got six hours before we’re more fucked than we already are. Jayce—what’s that town you were talking about?”

“Jericho,” he answered.

“Vik, how far are we from Jericho?”

“At a typical walking speed,” Viktor said evenly, “it will take you approximately five hours and thirty minutes.

“Hear that?” Vi said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We leave right now and, if we’re lucky, we make it to Jericho with less than an hour to spare before nightfall.”

She looked around the room, eyes sharp.

“What’s the only thing worse than Ravagers?”

“Ravagers in the dark,” the crew recited in near-unison.

“That’s right,” Vi said. “Grab everything you can. Be ready to move in ten.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Caitlyn had been keeping to herself, quietly sorting through a small medkit, trying not to make her situation any worse than it already was, when Vi stepped back into the med bay.

The captain didn’t say anything at first—just walked up and stopped in front of her.

“You know how to use one of these?” Vi asked.

She pulled her sidearm from the thigh holster and held it out, grip-first, barrel pointed safely down.

Caitlyn blinked at it. “What?”

Vi gestured again to the blaster pistol. “We’ve got a long hike ahead, and between Ravagers and the local wildlife, it’s not exactly gonna be a stroll through Kiramman Plaza. I want everyone armed. So, do yo know how to shoot or not?”

“You’re… taking me with you?” Caitlyn asked, surprise evident in her tone.

Vi stared at her, dumbfounded. “You thought we were gonna abandon you out here over a shitty remark?”

“I… don’t know. Maybe?” Caitlyn answered, her voice small.

For the briefest second, Caitlyn could’ve sworn something softened behind Vi’s eyes—but it vanished just as quickly. The captain rolled her eyes.

“God, you really do see the worst in the Fringe Worlds, don’t you?”

Caitlyn panicked. “No! No, I—I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking earlier when I said that—”

“Caitlyn.”

“—and I guess I wasn’t thinking just now either, when I said that—”

“Caitlyn.”

“—and I’m just trying not to make things worse, but I keep talking and—”

“Caitlyn!” Vi snapped.

Caitlyn froze mid-ramble.

“Shut. Up.”

The incredibly anxious doctor finally fell silent.

Vi let out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “If I killed every Core Worlder whose mouth worked faster than their brain, I’d be on every wanted poster across the galaxy.”

The tension in Caitlyn’s shoulders eased slightly.

“Besides,” Vi added, smirking, “anything happens to you, and I owe your friend Mel two thousand credits.”

She held the pistol out again, grip-first.

“Now—I’m gonna ask you one more time. Do you know how to use one of these?”

Caitlyn looked at the weapon, then up at Vi, and nodded. “My father… he used to take me shooting every weekend when I was—”

“Good enough,” Vi said, cutting her off.

She unbuckled her holster and shoved it, along with the pistol, into Caitlyn’s arms.

“Put that on. Then grab whatever medical supplies you can and stuff it all in here.” She tossed her a pack.

Caitlyn barely caught it, awkwardly juggling the pistol and holster. Vi gave her a quick nod, then turned to leave the medbay, already shifting her focus back to the rest of the crew.

She called back over her shoulder, “We’re leaving in ten!”

“Right. Yes. Okay!” Caitlyn called back, quickly moving into action.

She started packing immediately—healing gel packs, stims, basic antivenoms, dried food rations—anything remotely useful.

And through it all, she couldn’t help but feel… relieved.

She wasn’t being left behind.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi hated leaving The Gauntlet like this—exposed, grounded, vulnerable. But they had no choice. They’d stripped what they could carry, locked the rest down, and secured the exterior doors. Reinforced plating, sealed hatches—strong enough that even Ravagers would lose interest after a while.

Still… walking away felt wrong. This wasn’t just a ship. It was his ship. Vander’s. The last thing he left her. And now she was leaving it behind. Leaving him behind. Even if only temporarily, it felt like a betrayal. She turned away before she could think too hard about it, adjusting the strap on her pack, and giving a quick nod to everyone, her quiet instruction to get moving. 

Caitlyn saw it. The way Vi lingered. The stiffness in her shoulders. The flicker of something unspoken in her eyes.

She didn’t know much about the captain—not yet. Or the crew she led so fiercely, but she knew grief when she saw it. Being a doctor had taught her to recognize pain that didn’t always scream.

And Vi was hurting.

“That ship means a great deal to you,” Caitlyn said softly as the two marched on.

The captain shrugged. “Of course it does. And it should to you too—unless you’re looking to become a Zaunite. The pay is shit, the food’s worse, and, well…” she paused, smiling faintly, “actually, there’s no redeeming qualities.”

Given the… incident earlier, Caitlyn wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh. She simply let her eyes bounce between Vi, the ground, and the way ahead.

Vi rolled her eyes. “It’s a joke, Caitlyn. You’re allowed to laugh at jokes.”

“Right,” Caitlyn said with an awkward laugh. “Well… that’s not exactly what I meant. The Gauntlet—it holds sentimental value to you, doesn’t it?”

Vi stiffened.

It wasn’t subtle. Every wall went up at once.

“How many supplies did you get into that bag?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

It took every ounce of restraint in Caitlyn’s naturally persistent body not to push. Not to pry. But she let it go.

Instead, she shifted the pack on her shoulders and started listing:

“Four gel-packs, three basic stims, one adrenaline injector, two IV kits, a field suture kit, broad-spectrum antibiotics, two anti-venoms, three water purifiers, six protein rations, and a portable sterilizer.”

Vi gave a curt nod. “Good. We’re gonna need whatever we—nngh!”

She staggered, clutching her temple as the world tilted.

“Vi? Vi!” Caitlyn’s voice was muffled, barely cutting through the high-pitched ringing in her ears—though neither sound held a candle to the throbbing in her skull.

The crew stopped immediately, forming a loose circle around their captain.

Powder stepped in, gripping Vi by the shoulders. “Sis? Come on, you with us?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m with you,” Vi muttered. “Just… fuckin’ migraine.”

“We should stop. Let you rest,” Caitlyn said, firm but not unkind.

Vi scoffed. “We stop, we’re dead.”

And with that, she forced herself forward—every step a quiet rebellion against the pain in her head and the fear clawing at her gut.

She wasn’t about to end up on a Ravager’s dinner plate.

Or worse.

Caitlyn, visibly frustrated, watched Vi push forward. The doctor in her wanted to yell. To tell this woman she was being reckless. That every step, every strained breath, was a gamble she couldn’t afford to keep making. That a concussion wasn’t something you just walked off.

“Don’t bother,” Jayce said quietly, falling into step beside her. “When Vi’s set on something, there’s no stopping her.”

“Yes,” Caitlyn muttered. “I’ve picked up on that.”

“She’ll never put herself before her crew,” Jayce said, watching Vi power forward in the distance. “The sooner you get that, the sooner she starts making a lot more sense.”

Caitlyn glanced over at him. “You said you were from Piltover. How did you end up… here?”

Jayce gave her a sideways look. “I could ask you the same question.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth, then shut it. Fair point, one he’d made twice now. It didn’t matter where you were from.

He let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again. “I used to work for Hextech.”

Caitlyn blinked. “Hextech? That’s… a prestigious company.”

Jayce let out a short, humorless laugh. “Prestigious company, prestigious title. I was the head of product development.”

“A life like that… surely you were well off. Why did you leave?”

“I fucking hated it.” He said simply, glancing upward, as if trying to push the memory away.

“I hated what my department was doing. What I was signing off on without reading the fine print. What we were building...”

He shook his head, then continued. “Vi, Powder, and Ekko broke in one night. Hired to steal a project my team was working on.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, they came in, guns blazing?”

Jayce nodded, smirking. “Powder put a gun under my jaw, started barking demands.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened.

“You know what I did?” Jayce asked.

She shook her head.

“I smiled,” he said, chuckling now—genuine this time. “I smiled and led them right to what they were looking for. Not sure what I was more excited about: fucking over Hextech, or finally doing something for me.”

“What… was the project?” Caitlyn asked carefully, curiosity threading through the caution in her voice.

Jayce hesitated.

The humor drained from his expression, replaced by something quieter. Heavy. His eyes flicked toward Powder… then drifted lower.

To the small figure walking just a few paces ahead.

“…It was Isha.”

Caitlyn followed his gaze, her brow furrowing. “The… quiet girl?”

Jayce nodded—silent, ashamed.

“She was… important to the company. Classified project. High security. To this day, I still don’t know exactly what they did to her, or what they were hoping to get out of her.”

He shook his head. “It was all way above my clearance level. Just… keep her healthy. Keep her alive. No questions asked.”

His eyes drifted back toward the girl.

“And Isha… she’s got no memory of it. None. Whatever Hextech did to her—she blocked it all out.”

He exhaled, a heavy breath tinged with guilt.

“As much as I want to know what they did to her… I’m glad she doesn’t remember. Whatever it was—it’s better buried.”

“I… take it they elected not to bring Isha to the buyer?” Caitlyn asked carefully.

“God, you should’ve seen it,” Jayce laughed. “Vi shouting that backing out of the deal would paint a target on all of them. Powder yelling that she wasn’t about to sell a kid like she was cargo.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“It was an all-out war between them. I thought they were gonna come to blows. But in the end…”

He glanced toward Isha again, her small frame silhouetted against the dying light of the canyon ahead.

“Powder won.”

Caitlyn tilted her head, studying him. “So, how did you end up going with them?”

Jayce shrugged. “I asked.”

“You… asked?” she repeated, incredulous.

He nodded, then grinned. “Well, asked, and maybe offered them access to a vault full of prototypes worth thousands of credits. Minor detail.” He gave a dramatic shrug. “But I like to think I won them over with my charming personality and top-tier engineering know-how.”

Caitlyn laughed—actually laughed—for the first time in days. “Yes,” she said, still smiling. “I’m certain that’s what did it.”

“That was two years ago,” Jayce said fondly. “And since then, The Gauntlet crew has been better to me than Hextech ever was.” He looked Caitlyn in the eye. “So that’s how I ended up here, and there hasn’t been a moment when I’ve regretted it.”

He glanced around the ridges above them. “Though, I’ll admit, the looming threat of being cannibalized is giving me pause right about now.” 

Caitlyn laughed again, shaking her head.

She was still completely bewildered by this crew—by their chaos, their contradictions, the way they never seemed to do things the easy or logical way, but she was starting to understand them. Even if only a little.

And that, somehow, was comforting.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

No one said it out loud, but the heat and the rough terrain were wearing on all of them. Sweat clung to their backs, boots dragged a little heavier with each step, and the canyon wind was dry enough to crack skin.

No one would admit they were tired.

Except Isha.

The girl was fast asleep on Ekko’s back, arms looped loosely around his neck, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind—if anything, he adjusted his stride to keep her steady.

Powder’s heart ached as she watched Ekko carry Isha with such care.

She should’ve been used to it by now—how gentle he could be, how effortlessly good he was.

But god, it still caught her off guard sometimes. How kind he was. How steady.

Ekko was the kind of good she never felt like she deserved. Not with the things she’d done. Not with the weight she carried.

And yet, Ekko—her Ekko—spent every private moment finding new ways to remind her that she did.

That she was worth something to him. Everything.

And every time, she didn’t know what to do with it.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Vi knew about them. About her and Ekko. But there was something about saying it out loud—about admitting it was real—that she just couldn’t bring herself to do. Like putting it into words would make it tangible. And tangible things could be taken.

As long as it stayed unspoken, it was safe. It was hers. And she didn’t have to face the fear of losing something that, for once, actually mattered.

Powder quickened her pace, falling in beside Ekko.

“Want me to take her for a bit?” she asked softly, nodding toward the sleeping Isha.

Ekko gave her a tired smile and shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got her. But I wouldn’t say no to a drink of wa—”

ZIP. ZIP. ZIP.

Something sliced through the air—too fast, too close.

Ekko dropped instantly, instinctively shielding Isha as he hit the ground. The girl startled awake with a sharp gasp.

Powder’s heart jumped. Bullets.

Which could only mean one thing.

“Ravagers!” Jayce shouted as he pointed toward the high rocky ridge above.

Movement…  erratic, impossibly fast, and descending on them.

And then came the bone-chilling scream. A war cry, an announcement to the rest of their pack. 

The Ravagers had found their prey.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Fuck.

Vi knew their luck would run out eventually.

She’d just hoped it wouldn’t happen here—still an hour out from Jericho, exposed on all sides.

Running wasn’t an option.

There was only one thing left to do.

Fight.

“Get behind those rocks!” she barked. “Move! Take out the ones with guns first—let the rest come closer!”

The crew of the Gauntlet scattered, diving for a jagged cluster of stone. Gunfire lit up the ridge—measured, deliberate bursts traded with shadowy figures closing in fast.

Everyone moved on instinct.

Everyone except Caitlyn.

She stood frozen. Gun still holstered. Eyes wide. Paralyzed, like her brain had disconnected from her body.

“Caitlyn, get the fuck over here!” Vi shouted, voice tearing through the deafening gunfire.

Still nothing.

She just stood there—shaking. Locked in place.

Vi cursed under her breath. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Without hesitation, she broke cover, sprinted across open ground, bullets kicking up dust at her heels. She grabbed Caitlyn by the collar, yanked her down behind the rocks, and shoved her to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Caitlyn didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her eyes unfocused. Hands trembling violently.

Vi stared at her for a second, realization hitting hard.

This wasn’t just fear.

It was full-blown panic.

Vi dropped to a knee in front of her, gripping her shoulders, voice sharp but steady.

“Caitlyn. Hey. Caitlyn—look at me. I need you to snap the fuck out of it or give me back my gun.”

Still no answer. Just the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Spiraling.

“Captain, it would appear that Doctor Kiramman is in shock.” Viktor stated calmly, the metallic ball safely tucked behind cover. 

Vi’s jaw clenched.

This was a storm she couldn’t shout her way through.

So, she did the only thing she could think of.

She grabbed Caitlyn’s face, cupping it firmly in both hands, forcing the doctor to meet her eyes.

Her own pulse was pounding, adrenaline screaming through her veins, but she held her gaze steady.

“Caitlyn. Look at me. I need you right now, okay? Just breathe with me.”

Gunfire cracked in the distance.

“Inhale. Count to five. Exhale. Can you do that?”

“Really bad time for a fucking therapy session!” Powder shouted, her SMGs lighting up the ridge.

“Shut the hell up and keep shooting!” Vi snapped, never taking her eyes off Caitlyn.

She leaned in, lowering her voice, calm but commanding.

“Inhale. Count to five. Exhale. Again. Inhale… one, two, three, four, five. Exhale.”

To her relief, Caitlyn started to follow. Her chest still shook, but she was trying.

Again.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The tremble in her hands slowed.

“Doctor Kiramman’s heart rate is returning to acceptable parameters,” Viktor announced. 

Vi nodded, more to herself than anyone. “That’s it. Good. You’re okay. You’re with me.”

Finally, Caitlyn spoke—barely above a whisper.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“That’s right,” Vi said, and for once, her voice was almost soft—almost. As soft as someone could manage, given the circumstances. “You’re okay. Now… do you know what you need to do?”

Caitlyn nodded, her fingers tightening around the pistol still holstered at her side. “Aim for the ones with guns.”

Vi gave her shoulder a firm slap. “Good girl. Stay behind cover. Take your shots when you can.”

Caitlyn nodded again. This time with more purpose. She pulled the pistol free, checked its fusion cell with shaking hands, then pressed her back against the rock.

“I’m okay,” she whispered to herself. “Stay behind cover. Take shots when I can. Aim for the ones with guns.”

Her hands still trembled. But her grip didn’t falter.

“They’re getting close!” Ekko shouted, ducking behind cover as a bullet cracked off the rock near his head.

Vi nodded sharply, slipping on her displacement gloves with practiced speed. Electricity sparked across the knuckles.

“Jayce!” she called out. “Our time to shine, Pretty Boy!”

Jayce’s grin widened. He gripped his Repulsor with both hands, the heavy shockwave hammer humming with stored energy.

“Oh, hell yes.”

Without another word, the two of them broke from cover, charging straight into the rabid, screaming fray.

It was a brutal, practiced rhythm—an almost choreographed chaos as Vi gracefully avoided wild swings of blades and Jayce simply overwhelmed them with brute force. 

Vi’s fists hit like cannons, the displacement gloves sending shockwaves through Ravager armor and bone alike. She ducked under a blade, separated the jaw from a Ravager with a devastating hook, and pivoted into the next target without missing a beat.

Jayce followed close behind, swinging the Repulsor in wide, devastating arcs. Each impact sent enemies flying backward, bodies tumbling through dust and blood.

Together, they tore through the advancing cluster—an unstoppable two-person wrecking crew cutting a violent path through the madness.

Between the sharp, controlled gunfire from the rest of the crew and the brutal, close-quarters carnage of Vi and Jayce, the last Ravager fell with a final, wet thud.

Breathless, blood-spattered, and grinning like idiots, Vi and Jayce turned to each other—still riding the adrenaline.

“Hell yeah!” Jayce whooped, slapping Vi on the back. “That was fucking AWESOME!”

Vi laughed, shaking blood from her gloves. “Did you see the way that fucker’s jaw ripped off? That was—”

CRACK.

A sharp red bolt sliced clean between them, close enough to sting the air. Both froze.

Behind them came the sound of something collapsing—fast.

They spun.

One last Ravager.

Crushed. Mangled. But somehow still standing a second ago. Not anymore.

Now it was lifeless on the ground, a smoking hole in its skull.

Vi turned slowly, heart still hammering, and saw the shooter.

Doctor Caitlyn Kiramman.

Wide-eyed, hands steady now, pistol still raised. The barrel glowed faintly.

Vi couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips as she made her way back to the group, blood-slick and grinning, eyes fixed on Caitlyn.

The doctor was still standing there, pistol slowly lowering—back straight, jaw set.

“Shit. Thanks for the save.” Vi said, voice light but edged with genuine respect. “You’re an alright shot, Cupcake,” 

Caitlyn didn’t flinch at the nickname this time. Instead, she holstered the pistol with purpose. “I’m an excellent shot,” she corrected.

“Maybe next time, be an excellent shot without needing a pep talk first,” Powder quipped, slipping her SMGs back onto her hips. 

Caitlyn shot her a look. “I’m a doctor, not a soldier. You’ll forgive me if I’m not exactly accustomed to being shot at. Going into shock is a perfectly reasonable response.”

Caitlyn turned back to Vi, her voice quieter now. “You did well with… helping me. So…thank you.”

For a moment, their eyes held.

Too long, maybe.

The silence that followed was a little too still, a little too heavy. Vi cleared her throat and gave a small shrug, brushing it off the only way she knew how. “Yeah, well. If that’s how you shoot when you’re not having a panic attack, consider me your emotional support captain.”

Caitlyn smiled—genuine, tired, and maybe just a little endeared. A quiet laugh escaped her.

“Noted.”

Vi turned to the floating orb hovering at her side. “Vik, how are we looking?”

“You are looking like you’ve been through a meat grinder,” Viktor replied flatly.

Vi blinked. “Was that… a joke?”

“That depends. Was it funny?”

“Vik…” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Current daylight remaining: one hour and twenty-seven minutes,” Viktor continued, unbothered. “At your current average pace, you will reach Jericho in approximately one hour and twenty minutes.”

Vi clapped her hands together once. “Alright, you heard the floating computer—we’ve got seven minutes of daylight to spare. Let’s move.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the ridge. “That was just a scouting party. The rest of the pack’s not far behind, and they’re about to get real curious about what happened to their friends.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

As the jagged silhouette of Jericho came into view—a sprawl of rusted metal, steam vents, and blinking signage barely clinging to function—Caitlyn slowed her pace.

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a folded strip of fabric.

Vi glanced over, one eyebrow raised. “Do you not remember the whole ‘seven minutes to spare’ thing?”

“This’ll just take a second,” Caitlyn replied calmly, unfolding the scarf.

She wrapped it around her face with practiced precision, covering everything below her eyes. Then she pulled her hood up tight.

Vi watched her, narrowing her eyes. “Going for mysterious vigilante chic, or…?”

Caitlyn shot her a look over the scarf. “Considering I was just kidnapped, I’m not exactly eager to waltz into any populated town with my face out in the open.”

Vi’s smirk faded slightly. “Fair enough.”

When the crew finally reached the front gates of Jericho, they were met with… silence.

No guards. No lookouts. Nothing but the low hiss of steam from half-broken vents and the hum of distant generators.

“No welcoming party?” Jayce muttered, mockingly disappointed.

“Hellooo?!” Powder called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Dashing space adventurers pursuing fame and fortune in need of a little help!”

Vi groaned and rubbed her face. “Nice, Powder. That’ll help.”

And then the silence ended.

They were swarmed in an instant—a dozen armed men and women emerging from hidden perches and shadowed alcoves. Weapons up, safeties off, barrels trained.

“Hands!”

“Don’t fucking move!”

A rifle jabbed into Vi’s ribs. She flinched but didn’t step back.

“Easy! Easy!” she shouted. “We’re not here to start anything! We crash landed a little ways out—we just need help with our ship!”

One of the guards stepped forward, voice hard. “That ship. The Gauntlet. How did it come into your possession?”

Vi blinked. “It’s my ship, dumbass.”

“Our ship,” Powder added automatically.

Vi shot her a glare. “You really wanna do this right now, Powder?”

Something in the air shifted in that moment.

“What did you just say?” one of the guards asked suddenly.

Vi turned back. “What?”

He pointed to Powder, his tone different now—slightly more cautious. “What did you just call her?”

Vi frowned. “I called her her name, idiot. What else should I call her?”

The guard hesitated. His rifle dipped just slightly.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, his rifle still aimed but no longer shaking.

Vi raised an eyebrow, her body taut with tension. “The name’s Vi. Look, maybe we got off on the wrong—”

“Margot,” he said into his earpiece, cutting her off. “Send the boss down. Tell him it’s urgent.”

Vi frowned. “Listen, whoever your boss is, just tell him we—”

“Shut up,” the man snapped. “You can tell him yourself, soon enough.”

He didn’t lower his weapon any further, but he didn’t pull the trigger either.

Small victories. 

For a long, tense moment, the crew stood still—hands raised, breath held.

And then the gates groaned.

The massive metal doors shuddered to life, grinding open with a mechanical whine. A thick cloud of dust and smog poured out from the threshold, choking the air, blinding the view beyond.

Vi squinted into the haze, unable to see anything.

But she heard him before she saw him.

“Violet…? Powder…?”

Vi froze.

No. It couldn’t be.

She had to be hearing things—hallucinating from the adrenaline, the crash, the exhaustion.

But then, the haze began to lift.

And through the swirling dust, a tall, slender figure stepped into view. Scarred. Weathered. Older.

But alive.

“…Silco?” Powder’s voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

The man let out a shaky breath—half-sigh, half-laugh—and dropped to his knees, arms outstretched.

“Girls…” he whispered, voice breaking.

And just like that, they moved.

No hesitation.

Vi and Powder ran to him—years of grief in every step. They dropped into Silco’s arms, clinging to the man who had helped Vander raise them. A man they thought had died with Vander and the rest of their world in The Glassing.

“How did… how are you even…” Vi choked on the words, unable to string a full question together through the flood of shock and tears.

Silco held them both like he’d never let go again, his arms wrapped tight around the girls he’d thought were lost. For a long moment, he was silent—like saying anything at all might shatter the fragile reality of it all.

Finally, he stood up and stepped back, eyes glassy, but smiling. 

“We can save the questions for later,” he said gently, brushing dust from Vi’s shoulder like he always used to when she a child. “You’ve come a long way, and you look like hell.”

He turned and gestured to the open city behind him. Steam curled from vents, neon signs flickered against rusted metal.

“Come. You’re safe here.”

Chapter Text

“Silco…” Vi whispered as they followed him through the winding streets of Jericho. “How are you… here? I mean, I thought everyone…”

“So did I,” he said gently, giving her shoulder a light squeeze as they walked. His other arm reached for Powder, pulling both girls in close. The rest of the crew followed distantly behind, exchanging quiet, confused glances.

None of them knew about Targon. The truth about all they’d lost.

Not even Ekko.

Powder had wanted to tell him. But how did you even begin to talk about something like that? About how you watched everyone you ever knew and cared about die in an instant?

“The entire planet…” Silco murmured, his voice distant, “it was like hell opened its mouth and swallowed everything. The ground split open. Buildings came down. The sky turned red, and then…”

He trailed off, shaking his head.

“When I woke up, all I could feel was the heat… and the weight of the collapsed building pinning me to the ground. I spent two days crawling out of that rubble. And when I finally got free…”

He paused.

“It was all gone.”

“Gone?” Powder echoed softly.

“Nothing left but fire. And rubble.” His voice was low. His eyes looked miles away.

Vi swallowed hard. “How did you get off-world?”

Silco exhaled slowly, a bitter flicker of amusement passing through his expression. “An Allied damage assessment crew came through. Probably making sure they’d wiped out every last one of us. I slipped past their search party, boarded one of their ships, killed the pilot, and set a course for the only other place I’d ever called home.”

Vi didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

“And… did Vander…?” she finally asked, barely above a whisper. She couldn’t even finish the question.

Silco’s eyes softened.

“He died as he lived, Violet. A hero to the Federation. Rushing civilians into bunkers, basement shelters, anything with four walls and hope. Never once thought of saving himself.”

Vi nodded, eyes damp. “Yeah… that sounds like him.”

“He’d be so proud of both of you,” Silco said softly. “Fighters. Survivors. He taught you well.”

Vi smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes but carried something deeper. She nodded.

“So…” Powder said cautiously, “you’re the… boss here?”

Silco chuckled, clearly relieved by the change of subject. “I prefer the term mayor, but yes, I suppose that makes me the boss.”

He came to a stop outside a modest bar nestled between two shops, the buzz of conversation and warm lighting spilling through the cracks in the shutters.

“And as the boss,” he continued, turning to face them with a smile, “I’m going to make sure my girls—and their crew—get everything they need. Eat. Drink. Rest.”

He pushed the door open.

“We can worry about The Gauntlet in the morning.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

It had been a long, exhausting day aboard The Gauntlet. Everyone was sore, starving, and barely holding it together.

The starving part, at least, was being taken care of.

They tore through the food laid out in front of them like a crew possessed. Silco had barely needed to speak when he brought them into the small, but lively bar—just a look and a quiet nod, and the staff had brought out what seemed like two of everything on the menu. Stew, grilled meats, fresh bread, even fruit. It was a feast.

Everyone dug in without hesitation.

Everyone except Caitlyn.

She sat stiffly at the edge of the table, hood still up, scarf still wrapped around her face. Guard fully up.

Across from her, Silco gave a warm smile, clearly amused. “Please—eat. You must be starving, Miss…?”

Vi glanced sidelong at Caitlyn, and Caitlyn—panicking—blurted out, “Matilda!” in an accent that absolutely did not belong to her.

Silco raised an eyebrow. “Matilda... Bit of a classic name for someone so… young.”

“My parents named me after my great-great-grandmother,” Caitlyn offered quickly, voice high and clipped. “Family tradition.”

Silco tilted his head, not quite buying it—but he didn’t press. Something about the girl was off, sure. But if she was with Vi and Powder, that was enough for now.

“Well then… Matilda. You must have worked up quite the appetite. Please, help yourself.”

“I’m… afraid I don’t have the stomach for food at the moment,” she said tightly. “Feeling quite… ill.”

Vi jumped in, finally throwing her a line. “Tilly here had her first run-in with Ravagers today. She’s been a bit out of it since.”

“That’s one word for it,” Powder muttered around a mouthful of food. The remark was met with a narrow-eyed glare from Caitlyn. 

Silco nodded grimly. “Ravagers,” he muttered. “A harsh reality out here. You’re either fast, lucky, or dead.”

His eyes lingered on “Matilda” for a moment.

“You must be from a Core World if you’ve never seen them before,” he said, voice calm but curious. “That, or extraordinarily fortunate.”

“I’m from Ionia,” Caitlyn lied smoothly. “I originally hired Vi and her crew to escort me to Piltover.”

“Piltover?” Silco laughed, leaning back slightly. “How in God’s name did you all end up crash-landing out here?”

Vi cleared her throat, quickly stepping in. “We had a malfunction… in skipspace. Fusion core overloaded. The blast knocked us completely off course.”

Silco’s expression shifted, the humor gone in an instant. “God. Skip malfunctions are usually fatal. Count yourselves lucky—though I’m sure it doesn’t feel like it.”

Vi nodded quietly, her gaze dropping to the untouched plate in front of her.

Across the table, Powder gave her a look.

Not a subtle one.

A look that screamed: Why the fuck are we lying to the only family we have left?

Vi didn’t look up. She didn’t answer. Mostly because she didn’t have one.

Caitlyn had dropped the fake name before Vi could say a word. And now? Backtracking would mean unraveling the whole thing—and revealing who Caitlyn really was. What she really was.

And that was a conversation Vi wasn’t ready to have.

Not tonight.

Not with the dull, throbbing ache blooming again behind her eyes. The headache she’d been ignoring since the firefight was back in full force.

She clenched her jaw, willing the pain to pass.

It didn’t.

Silco’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Violet, are you alright? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else right now.”

Vi winced slightly, pressing two fingers to her temple. “Yeah… sorry. It’s just—my head.”

“Your head?” he asked, tone shifting immediately to worry.

“She sustained a Grade 1 concussion during the crash,” Caitlyn chimed in, sitting a bit straighter. “I’ve been monitoring her—and trying to get her to rest—but listening isn’t exactly her strong suit.”

Silco’s frown deepened. “A concussion, and you’re down here in a loud bar…” He stepped behind the counter, grabbed a set of keys from a rusted wall rack, and handed them to Caitlyn. “Take room six. And Matilda?”

Caitlyn looked up quickly, caught off-guard by the name even though she’d chosen it.

“Make sure she actually rests, won’t you?”

“Silco, come on,” Vi protested. “I’m fine. There’s too much to talk about, too much—”

“And we will talk,” Silco cut in gently, firm but warm. “Tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere. And judging by your ship, neither are you.”

He turned back to Caitlyn with a knowing look. “Matilda?”

Caitlyn nodded. “Yes. Of course. I’ll strap her to the bed if I have to.”

“Now there’s an idea…” Vi muttered, smirking through the pain.

Caitlyn, noticeably less amused—and underneath her scarf, red—shoved her gently toward the stairs. “Up. Now.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi flopped onto the bed with a tired grunt as Caitlyn softly shut the door behind them, twisting the lock with a quiet click.

Only then did Caitlyn pull down her hood and unravel the scarf from her face, exhaling a long-held breath of relief.

“You don’t have to hide around him, you know,” Vi mumbled, rubbing a hand across her face without opening her eyes. “He’s a good man. Took care of us. Helped raise us.”

“I’m sure he’s… fine,” Caitlyn said carefully, setting her pack down and beginning to unpack its contents onto the small desk in the corner. “But I hope you understand why I’m not exactly eager to have my name shouted from the rooftops, given how the last few days have gone for me.”

Vi let out a tired laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

Caitlyn crossed to the bedside, neural scanner in hand. Her tone softened.

“I do appreciate you going with it.” She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But… Tilly? Really?”

Vi cracked an eye open and smirked. “Oh, don’t even start with me, Matilda. What the hell was that?”

“I panicked!” Caitlyn laughed, the tension in her posture finally easing. “Now shut up and let me run the scan.”

Vi groaned and squirmed as the scanner’s light flicked on, illuminating her face with a sharp blue beam.

“Ugh. Why is it so bright?”

Caitlyn sighed, lowering the scanner slightly. She planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Are you going to keep acting like a child? The more you move, the longer this takes.”

Vi’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden steel in Caitlyn’s voice, and judging by the flicker of surprise in Caitlyn’s own expression, she hadn’t expected it either.

Vi could’ve thrown something snarky back. Could’ve teased or deflected, but instead, she just smiled.

“No, ma’am.”

Caitlyn cleared her throat, composing herself. “Good. Now sit still.”

Her hands were soft.

That was the first thing Vi noticed.

Soft and careful—not like a soldier’s, not like someone used to blood and grit. Gentle, even as they brushed the sweaty strands of hair from her face. Even as they pried her eyelids open for the scanner’s beam.

There was no urgency in it. No cold precision.

Just quiet care.

“So…” Vi squinted against the scanner light, doing her best not to wince. “What were you doing so far out from the Core Worlds anyway? I mean, to get picked up by Sarah’s—by pirates, you had to be pretty far off-grid. Near Bilge, I’d bet.”

Caitlyn didn’t look up as she finished the scan and checked the readout, her voice low. “I’ve been studying The Tremor.”

The words never failed to sink a pit of dread into the gut of anyone who heard them.

The Tremor.

A particularly cruel disease with no known origin—and worse, no known cure.

It began subtly. A twitch of the hand. A muscle that wouldn’t stop jumping. Easy to dismiss.

But then the tremors worsened—uncontrollable, violent. Limbs jerking like marionettes with cut strings.

Next came the fatigue. Not tiredness, not exhaustion—depletion. Like every movement dragged the body through water. Like gravity itself had doubled.

Then the hallucinations.

For some, they were beautiful. Visions of lost loved ones, childhood memories, wild, impossible dreams.

For others, they were nightmares made flesh. Terrors so vivid they blurred the line between waking and not. And there was no waking from that.

And then—when the body had nothing left to give—came the end.

Total organ failure.

Swift. Merciless. Final.

She typed a few notes on her datapad before continuing. “Chasing reported cases. Testing experimental treatments on anyone willing to try them.”

Vi raised a brow. “Why come this far out though? There are plenty of cases in the Core Worlds—and I’d imagine they’re a lot safer for you to poke around in.”

“Because,” Caitlyn said quietly, pouring two painkillers into her hand and stepping over to the sink to fill a cup of water, “this isn’t just a Core Worlds problem. People are dying everywhere.”

She turned back to Vi, holding out the pills and water. “What kind of doctor would I be if I only focused on half the population?”

Vi smirked. “A Piltie doctor.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. “Now who’s generalizing?”

Vi swallowed the pills, chased them with a sip of water, then nodded. She let her head sink back into the pillow, eyes already heavy. Exhaustion was finally winning the hard-fought battle.

Caitlyn smiled softly as she sat beside the bed. “You can sleep—but not for long, alright? I’ll make sure you don’t overdo it.”

Vi smirked, eyes already shut. “Sure you wouldn’t prefer me comatose?”

Caitlyn tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. Tempting. But I do need you alive—and preferably conscious—if I’m getting back to Piltover.”

Vi’s voice was slow, fading. “What, don’t trust my sister to get you home safe and sound?”

“In a word? No.” Caitlyn scoffed lightly.

Vi nodded, the motion barely there. “Mmm. Fair.”

And with that, she drifted off—finally, and without a fight.

True to her word, Caitlyn watched as the captain slept.

She kept herself busy—scrolling through her notes, reviewing data, jotting observations—but her eyes wandered more often than they stayed focused. Inevitably, they always found their way back to Vi.

The woman was… beautiful.

Even now, half-asleep and bruised, tangled in sheets and dried blood. There was something about her—something raw and honest that lingered beneath the sharp edges and crude remarks.

And Vi cared.

Caitlyn had seen it.

In the way she gave her ship one last look before they left it behind. In the way she constantly watched over her crew on their way to Jericho, eyes always making sure everyone had what they needed.

In how she’d been there—for her.

Much of the firefight was a blur now, hazy in Caitlyn’s memory after the panic set in. But the moments she did remember were vivid. Sharp.

Vi, sprinting across open ground without hesitation, dragging her behind cover the way she would Amy of the crew. Cupping her face, forcing their eyes to meet, talking her down from the edge.

In the middle of all that chaos, she’d been still. Grounded. Focused on her.

Vi could deflect all she wanted—chalk it up to credits, to needing every gun in the fight…

But Caitlyn wasn’t stupid.

Vi had a good heart.

Even if it was her best-kept secret.

A glance at the time told Caitlyn it was time to wake Vi, as concussion protocol didn’t care how peacefully someone was sleeping. She leaned over and nudged her gently.

Much to her protest, Vi stirred. “What,” she groaned, voice rough with sleep. “Trying to sleep…”

“Forgive me for checking on my patient,” Caitlyn muttered dryly.

Vi sat up halfway, grabbing the water from the bedside and taking a sip. Her eyes scanned the room lazily—then landed on Caitlyn, who hadn’t moved from her chair.

“Have you just been… watching me?” Vi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Caitlyn scoffed. “Someone thinks highly of herself.” She gestured to her datapad. “No, I’ve been going over my notes.”

“On the Tremor?” Vi asked. 

Caitlyn nodded, her expression tightening with frustration. “There’s never been anything like it. Every disease has an origin—you can trace it. A source, a mutation, something. But this…” She exhaled through her nose. “It just… appears, tears through a population, and then disappears… Like it was never there.”

Vi sat up a little straighter, more alert now. “Could it be dormant? In people, I mean. Maybe they don’t show symptoms until it really settles in?” She shrugged. “I dunno, I’m just spitballing. You’re the doctor.”

Caitlyn glanced at Vi, surprised to hear such a question from her.. “That is a frightening possibility,” she said softly. “One I considered early on.”

“Not anymore?” Vi asked curiously. 

Caitlyn stared at her, eyes narrowed. “You’re… interested?”

Vi shrugged again, settling back against the pillows. “It’s either talk about pathogens or stare at the ceiling.”

A corner of Caitlyn’s mouth tugged up, just slightly.

“Pathogens it is, then.” 

Vi watched the way Caitlyn’s eyes lit up as she spoke about all her findings, and the questions they raised.

It was subtle at first—a sharper focus, a shift in posture—but then the words started flowing faster, more animated. She was completely in it. Lost in the data, the puzzle, the purpose.

It was… amusing.

Endearing, even.

Caitlyn could be irritating. Privileged. Stubborn in that polished, Core World way.

But she was also undeniably passionate.

“What made you go into medicine, anyway?” Vi asked.

Caitlyn tilted her head. “What should I be doing instead?”

Vi shrugged. “I just figured… given who your mom is, you’d be some kind of politician.”

Caitlyn let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Believe me, that battle’s been fought a hundred times—and I’m sure it’ll be fought a hundred times more.”

She shook her head, but then her expression softened.

“My father was a doctor. Back during the Restoration W—” she paused, eyes flicking toward Vi. “I mean… the Revolution.”

Vi caught it. The correction.

Small. But deliberate.

After what happened earlier that day, it wasn’t lost on her. Caitlyn was trying. And that mattered.

“He didn’t care about politics,” Caitlyn continued. “Didn’t care who you were—Federation, Allied, rich, poor. If you were hurt, he helped you. Simple as that. He raised me to believe the same.”

Vi was quiet for a moment, then asked gently, “What happened to him?”

Caitlyn’s eyes fell. “I don’t know. Not really. Just… that he died. Some kind of accident during the war.”

She swallowed hard.

“I’ve asked my mother about it more times than I can count. She never says much. And every time I’ve tried to dig on my own… it’s like he’s been erased. Any records—wiped. It’s like he only exists in my memory.”

Vi knew that feeling all too well. The loss of a father wasn’t new to her.

It was a wound she’d already felt twice in her life—first with the man who gave her life, and again with the man who gave it meaning.

There wasn’t a word for grief like that, just the quiet ache of knowing someone who used to feel immovable was suddenly… gone.

She glanced at Caitlyn, her voice softer now.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I get it.”

Caitlyn offered a sad smile. “I’m sorry that you do.”

The two sat in silence after that—not uncomfortable, just quiet. Heavy in its own way.

“I’m surprised your mother let you come out here without half the Enforcers trailing behind you,” Vi finally said, breaking the stillness.

“Oh, she didn’t,” Caitlyn replied simply. “She has no idea I’ve even left Piltover. And I suspect Mel aimed to keep it that way, for my sake. Which is probably why she hired outside help once she got my distress beacon.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been flying around Runeterra chasing a cure that might not even exist… without the Chairwoman’s knowledge or permission?”

“I… suppose so,” Caitlyn admitted with a small shrug.

Vi leaned back into the pillow, yawning. “You’re an odd one, Caitlyn Kiramman.”

Caitlyn smiled at that, soft and a little wistful. “I’ve always been a bit of a misfit. My mother and I… we’ve never really seen eye to eye. I was always more my father’s daughter.”

Vi hummed in response, her eyes already starting to drift closed again.

“I’ll wake you in a few more hours,” Caitlyn said gently, watching her fade.

“Don’t you dare,” Vi mumbled, barely conscious.

Caitlyn laughed softly to herself as she watched the captain drift back to sleep. 

All was quiet for a while, until a knock at the door sent Caitlyn’s heart into her throat.

She scrambled—jacket back on, hood up, scarf wrapped tight around her face—then cracked the door open cautiously.

Leaning against the frame, arms crossed and expression unimpressed, was Powder.

She didn’t wait for an invitation.

Just brushed past Caitlyn without a word and crossed straight to Vi’s bedside.

“She’s alright,” Caitlyn said quickly, trying to keep her voice calm. “I’ve been monitoring her since we got up here. Gave her water and painkillers, woke her up at intervals. She’s going to be—”

“You could’ve stopped at ‘she’s alright,’” Powder cut her off without looking back.

“I’m… sorry?”

“I’d say I forgive you, but…” Powder shrugged, her tone flippant.

Caitlyn stiffened, then cleared her throat. “Look, I apologize if we started off on the wrong foot earlier, but I don’t appreciate—”

“Started off on the wrong foot?” Powder let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re the reason we crashed here in the first place. You nearly got my sister killed with your little deer-in-headlights bullshit. And on top of that, you forced her to lie to the only family we didn’t even know we had left.”

Her voice dropped, sharp and low.

“We are so far past the wrong foot, Piltie. You’ve been stumbling for miles.”

“I didn’t force Vi to do anything,” Caitlyn shot back, her voice sharp. “I did what I felt was safest—for me.”

“Yeah,” Powder scoffed, eyes rolling. “Isn’t that the Core World way?”

“Powder…” a groggy voice cut in from the bed.

Both of them turned. Vi, barely awake, let out a pained sigh. “Enough…”

Powder looked back at Caitlyn, her glare sharp and unwavering. She stepped forward, jabbing a finger into Caitlyn’s chest—voice low, dangerous.

“You do anything else between here and Piltover that hurts my family,” she said, “and I’ll make you wish Sarah kept you in that cell.”

Then she turned without another word and stormed out, boots heavy against the old wood floor.

Caitlyn stood there in the wake of Powder’s exit, eyes drifting from the closed door to Vi, still sunk into her pillow.

“She doesn’t mean it…” Vi mumbled, her voice muffled and thick with sleep.

Caitlyn let out a quiet sigh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

”She’s just… scared…”

”Of?” Caitlyn asked.

But Vi didn’t respond.

She was already out again—peaceful, steady, unaware of the storm she’d just barely interrupted.

Caitlyn turned away from the door, pulled the scarf from her face, and sank slowly back into the chair beside the bed.

She felt confident that Vi was alright now. Stable. Safe.

But still… she should stay up. Just a little longer. Just to be sure…

Caitlyn’s head dipped, her posture slumped.

In minutes, she was fast asleep in the chair beside Vi.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Sunlight fought through the thick green atmosphere, casting streaks of hazy light across the room and stirring Caitlyn from sleep.

Her eyes snapped open.

Shit. It had been well past two hours since she last woke Vi.

She was probably fine. Probably.

But still…

Caitlyn leaned forward and nudged her gently. “Vi?”

No response.

She nudged again—harder this time. “Vi?”

Still nothing. No stir, no grunt. Just… stillness.

“Shit… no, no, no…” she whispered, already feeling the panic rising in her chest.

She shook her fully now, voice sharp. “Violet?!”

No response.

Caitlyn ran a hand through her hair, trying to stay calm.

Okay. Stims. I have stims. In the bag. Check vitals. Look for shallow breathing. Pupil response. Elevated cranial pressure could’ve—

She turned to grab her med kit—

—and froze when she saw it.

Vi’s mouth twitched.

Just barely.

The faintest, smug little smirk ghosted across her lips.

Her eyes stayed shut, but the game was up.

That’s how she wanted to play it?

Fine.

Caitlyn launched into a fake medical spiral, voice rising just slightly as she rattled off half-real protocol. “Okay, airway’s clear, no response to auditory stimuli—likely vasovagal syncope onset. Or worse—possibly intracranial bleed, I should—”

She grabbed the nearest glass, filled it at the sink, turned…

And dumped the entire thing on Vi’s face.

Vi shot up with a sputtering gasp. “Hey!” She coughed, “Uncalled for!”

“Oh?” Caitlyn snapped, arms crossed, “And what would you call nearly giving me a heart attack?”

Vi wiped her face with the back of her arm, blinking through water. “Really good acting?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes and chucked a towel at her. “Asshole.”

Vi caught it, slowly grinning again. “Aww, Cupcake, were you worried about little ol’ me?”

“Please,” Caitlyn scoffed, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “My concern was strictly doctor-patient.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And stop calling me that,” she muttered, sitting back in the chair. “My name is Caitlyn.”

Vi tilted her head, toweling off the last of the water. “But you’re so sweet,” she teased. “Like a cupcake.”

Caitlyn’s eye twitched. She could feel the blush getting worse.

“Shut up,” she muttered as she picked up her datapad. “Your engineer said someone in town owes him a favor, right? The sooner we get help, the sooner we’re back in space. Let’s get moving.”

Vi flopped back on the bed, still grinning. “Whatever you say, Cupcake.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Six thousand credits?!” Jayce nearly choked. “Sev, come on…”

Sevika, tall and broad-shouldered with a face carved from indifference, just shrugged. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jayce. I already knocked off half the price as a favor.”

She gestured vaguely toward the street. “I’m losing credits paying my crew to haul parts out to the crash site. Paying town security to escort them through Ravager territory. And don’t even get me started on the cost of the parts themselves.”

“She is correct, Crewmate Talis,” Viktor chimed in from nearby, the hovering orb’s voice calm as ever. “Based on current material values and labor rates, this mechanic will be operating at a net loss of four thousand, two hundred and twenty-seven credits.”

Jayce dragged a hand down his face. “Not helping, Viktor.”

Sevika sighed and looked around the dusty lot with mock patience. “If you wanna try one of the other dozens of well-equipped mechanics in a town this small, be my guest.”

Vi stepped forward, flashing her most charming grin. “Sevika, right?” she asked, tone smooth. “I’m sure you and I could… talk this over. Come to an understanding.”

Sevika looked her up and down, unimpressed. “Cute,” she said flatly. “But not my type.”

Her gaze slid right past Vi—and landed squarely on Caitlyn.

“You, though…”

“Oh, I—” Caitlyn blinked, visibly uncomfortable. “That’s—um—” The doctor suddenly became very interested in the cracks on the floor. 

Vi stepped in front of Caitlyn, acting on an instinct she wasn’t prepared to have, and locked eyes with Sevika, the smirk was gone now. 

“Anyway,” Ekko cut in quickly, stepping between the mechanic and Vi. “What about work? There’s enough of us, we could easily cover some of the cost. Help out with whatever you need done around here.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, then lit a cigar with a lazy flick of her wrist. She exhaled smoke slowly, thoughtfully.

“Now that’s an idea…” She studied the crew, then nodded once. “Alright. I’ve got a few things that need doing. You help out, I knock off more credits.”

“See?” Vi remarked, “We’re already such great business partners.”

Sevika rolled her eyes at the captain. “Still not my type.”

She looked over the crew like she was picking tools off a shelf.

“You.” She pointed to Powder. “My scrapyard’s a disaster. Go sort the usable tech from the trash. And don’t blow anything up.”

Powder mock-saluted. “No promises.”

Her eyes flicked to Ekko. “Main generator needs calibration. Take the diagnostics rig and go play wizard.”

“On it,” Ekko said, already walking.

“Jayce,” Sevika grunted, tossing him a tool belt. “You’re on bulk work. Heavy lifting, gear hauling. Try not to bitch too much.”

Jayce gave a good-natured shrug. “Whatever gets The Gauntlet up and running.”

Finally, her eyes landed on Isha. “And the kid?”

“Isha can help Powder,” Ekko offered quickly.

Sevika shrugged. “Fine. So long as she doesn’t break anything worth more than she is.”

Then she turned to the last two standing.

“I’ve got something a little different for you two, Brains and Brawn.”

Vi scowled. “Hey, fu—”

“What’s the job?” Caitlyn cut in, voice calm, but firm.

Sevika pulled out a worn ID badge and handed it to her. “One of my mechanics hasn’t shown up in a couple days. Nobody’s seen him around town. Guy’s name is Deckard.”

Vi eyed the photo. “We look like detectives to you?”

Sevika smirked. “You look like people who want their ship fixed.”

Vi opened her mouth again, but Caitlyn spoke first. “When was he last seen?”

Sevika exhaled a plume of smoke and tapped a location on her datapad. “He was making a delivery to a homestead a little ways outside the gates. Right here.”

“Not much of a mystery,” Vi muttered. “Ravagers probably got him.”

Sevika shook her head. “There’s rarely any Ravager movement anywhere near that route. No blood, no bullet casings, no signs of struggle. Just… gone.”

“You talk to the family he was delivering parts to?” Vi asked, arms crossed.

Sevika shook her head. “Haven’t had the manpower to send anyone out there.”

She smirked. “Well… until now.”

Vi snorted. “Guy must mean a hell of a lot—getting the ‘wait and see’ treatment.”

“What she means to say,” Caitlyn cut in, forcing a smile, “is that we’ll get started right away.”

Sevika nodded, tapping ash from her cigar. “You find him, I’ll knock fifteen hundred off what you owe.”

“And if we don’t?” Vi asked.

Sevika shrugged. “Then hey—at least you got some good cardio in.”

Vi groaned. “C’mon, Viktor. You’re with us.”

The orb whirred, hovering cautiously. “Are you certain, Captain? I was prepared to remain here in a supervisory capacity. Where it is safe. And indoors. And—”

“Vik.”

“…Very well.”

With a low, reluctant hum, Viktor floated after the two women as they stepped out of the garage and made their way toward the front gate of Jericho.

“That went well,” Caitlyn remarked dryly.

Vi rolled her eyes. “I handled her fine.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I stopped you from blowing that deal. Twice.”

Vi shrugged. “I didn’t care for her tone.”

“Captain,” Viktor interjected smoothly, “would now be a good time to remind you of your earlier memo: Work on people skills?”

Vi shot the orb a glare. “Why did Vander think it was a good idea to give you a sense of humor?”

“Because Silco never told jokes,” Viktor replied. “And you are not funny.”

Vi winced. “Damn…”

Caitlyn couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out.

Vi turned her head slowly. “Oh. So that’s funny?”

Caitlyn cleared her throat, instantly composed. “Absolutely not.”

“Uh huh.” Vi muttered, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets as the three of them stepped through the gate and out into the wild.

The sun burned high above. The long road to the homestead stretched ahead, and Vi was already wondering just how weird this was going to get.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The sun beat down on Vi and Caitlyn as they walked the quiet road, the only sounds the crunch of dirt beneath their boots and the soft mechanical whir of Viktor trailing behind them.

“Who’s Vander?” Caitlyn asked, breaking the silence at last.

Vi’s jaw tightened. “Last owner of The Gauntlet,” she replied, voice flat.

But Caitlyn caught it—the shift in her eyes, the set of her shoulders. There was more to Vander than that. Much more.

“Did you… know him well?” she asked, careful not to push.

Vi didn’t answer.

Instead, she glanced up. “Vik, how far are we from the coordinates Sevika gave us?”

“1.3 miles,” the orb replied evenly.

Vi nodded, as if that settled it.

Caitlyn exhaled slowly. “You know… I’d like to think we’ve built a modicum of rapport.”

“Sure,” Vi said with a shrug. “We’ve had a laugh or two. Some banter.”

Caitlyn’s tone sharpened. “So what I told you about my father was just banter?”

Vi’s eyes widened, realizing what she’d said. She ran a hand through her hair. “Shit. No. That’s not what I meant.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just… don’t really get into the whole life story thing. Mine isn’t a particularly happy one.”

Caitlyn nodded quietly. She didn’t press. She just kept walking, eyes fixed ahead. The two returned to silence, the road stretching long ahead of them.

Then, quietly, as if careful to break the silence, Vi spoke.

“Vander meant a lot to me,” she said. “To me and Powder both. He… took care of us. During the war.”

Caitlyn looked over, her voice soft. “Something… happened to him.”

It wasn’t quite a question. Just a truth she could already see behind Vi’s eyes.

Vi nodded. “Yeah. Something happened.”

Caitlyn exhaled. “That war… it took so much from so many.”

Vi’s gaze stayed ahead, but her voice dropped even lower. “It took everything,” 

Before Caitlyn could ask what Vi meant, Viktor’s voice broke the silence.

“Captain. Doctor. We are approaching the coordinates provided by Sevika.”

Vi squinted into the distance. There it was—a lone, aging homestead sitting quiet beneath the sun’s heavy glare. She nodded.

“Thanks, Vik. We’ll check in with the family. Do a scan of the surrounding area, see if you pick up anything—signs of this Deckard guy. I know Sevika said no Ravager activity, but… it’s Zaun. They could be anywhere.”

Viktor hummed in acknowledgment and floated off, scanning wide.

Vi and Caitlyn kept moving, the house growing larger with each step. Its siding was rusted and half-stripped. A windmill creaked faintly in the breeze. The silence felt… too still.

“God,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice low. “How can it possibly be safe to live out here?”

“It’s not,” Vi said bluntly. “But people on the Fringe Worlds don’t exactly get options. No booming job markets out here.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. “But… the Galactic Council has resources. Funding. That’s supposed to go toward helping people.”

Vi scoffed, shaking her head. “People on the Core Worlds, maybe.”

Caitlyn stared at her, confused. “The war’s over. We’re one colony now. That support is meant for everyone.”

Vi laughed—sharp, bitter, a little louder than she meant to. “Sure, the war ended ten years ago. But if you think the Fringe Worlds aren’t still paying the price for what the Federation stood for, then you’re either kidding yourself… or you’re the dumbest smart person I’ve ever met.”

Vi didn’t wait for Caitlyn to respond. She stepped up to the door and knocked firmly.

“Hello? Anybody in there?”

A few moments passed. Then the door swung open with a creak, revealing a woman with an impossibly bright smile.

“Well, hi there!” she chirped. “We never get visitors out this far! What can I do for you?”

Vi blinked. The woman’s voice was high and chipper—too chipper for the setting.

“Hi. Uh… we’re actually just checking to see if your delivery ever came through the other day for…” She checked her datapad. “…a hydraulic actuator and coolant distributor—should’ve been dropped off by a guy named Deckard?”

The woman frowned, her smile faltering for just a breath. “You know, I’m not sure. My husband handles all that technical stuff.”

Then, just like that, the grin snapped back into place.

“Why don’t you two come on in while I grab him? I’m sure you could use a minute out of that nasty sun.”

Vi opened her mouth to politely decline—but Caitlyn had already stepped forward.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” she said, sounding eager for the break.

Vi gave her a look.

Caitlyn ignored it.

The two stepped inside, and Vi gave the place a quick scan.

It was quiet, not unusual for a home this remote. But something about it felt off. No ambient noise. No machines running. No sounds of life beyond the two people in front of them.

“Jack?” the woman called, her voice sing-song sweet. “Jack! We’ve got visitors, dear! They’re asking about a delivery we were supposed to get!”

A man trotted down the stairs, wiping his hands on a rag. He let out a friendly little sigh.

“Hey there! Actuator and coolant distributor, right? Nah, I’m afraid not. Deirdre was gonna head up to Jericho to pick ’em up herself, but—well, time gets away from you.”

He smiled. “You don’t happen to have them with you, do you?”

Vi shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We’re actually trying to find the delivery guy. No one’s seen him in a few days.”

Jack frowned, scratched his chin. “Is that right? Damn shame. This planet just keeps getting more dangerous.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, concern softening her voice. “Are you two alright out here on your own?”

Deirdre beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not on our own! Not as long as we’ve got our boys with us.”

“Well—men now,” Jack added with a fond chuckle. “But they’ll always be boys to their mama.”

“You’re so sweet to worry,” Deirdre said, waving a hand. “But we do just fine out here.”

Caitlyn’s eyes drifted down to the rag in Jack’s hand.

It was red. Very red.

“Is that… blood?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Jack followed her gaze, then let out a casual chuckle. “Oh! Yeah, nicked myself pretty good working on something upstairs. I’ll be alright though.”

“I could take a look,” Caitlyn offered quickly. “I’m a doctor.”

Jack waved her off with that same warm smile. “Oh, no need, sweetheart. Just a little scrape, is all.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mi—”

“I insist,” Jack said, smile still in place—but firmer now. 

Vi caught the tone, and a quick glance at Caitlyn told her the doctor did too.

“Don’t mind him, dear,” Deirdre chimed in brightly. “Jack’s just one of those he-men who can’t stand anyone making a fuss over him.”

Jack chuckled, wiping the rag a little too cleanly across his palm. “Guilty as charged.”

“Well… alright,” Caitlyn relented, still half-watching the bloody rag. “Just make sure you clean and sanitize it. Wouldn’t want it getting infected.”

Jack nodded with a wink. “Sound advice, Doc.”

“Well, listen,” Vi interjected, her voice tighter now, her gut telling her it was time to move, “if you do see or hear from Deckard, let the folks up in Jericho know, yeah?”

She turned to leave—only to feel a hand clamp gently, but firmly, around her arm.

“Lunch is almost ready,” Deirdre said sweetly. “Surely we can convince you both to stay? You must be starving, walking all the way from Jericho.”

Vi opened her mouth to decline—politely, firmly, and fast.

“Oh, I don’t—”

“We’d love to,” Caitlyn said brightly.

Vi blinked. “We would?”

“Of course we would!” Caitlyn beamed—though her eyes flicked meaningfully toward Vi.

Vi stared at her for a beat.

“…Okay. I guess we would,” she muttered.

Deirdre clapped her hands, delighted. “Oh, wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve had company.”

She turned toward the stairs and called out in that sing-song voice again.

“Boys! Ray! George! Get down here and set the table—we’ve got guests!”

From above, the sound of two sets of footsteps echoed down. Heavy. Unhurried.

Vi glanced toward the stairs, jaw tight.

Caitlyn, already committing to her role, straightened her posture and smiled.

And then the boys appeared—grown men, easily in their twenties, both with stiff expressions and oddly vacant eyes.

They said nothing.

Just walked past Vi and Caitlyn, grabbed plates from the cupboard, and began silently setting the table.

“Is there anywhere we could wash up before lunch?” Caitlyn asked, her tone sweet and polite. “We’re absolutely covered in dirt and sweat from walking all morning.”

“Of course!” Jack replied, cheerful as ever. “Upstairs—third door on the right.”

“Thank you,” Caitlyn nodded, then turned to Vi with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shall we?”

Vi gave her a look but said nothing, following Caitlyn up the creaking staircase, each step groaning beneath their boots.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Vi threw up her hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed. “Does anything about this house scream normal to you?”

Caitlyn shook her head. “Not even remotely. Which is exactly why we need to look around. If we’re going to find out what happened to Deckard, I’m betting the answers are in this house.”

Vi narrowed her eyes. “So now the doctor wants to play detective. Great.”

“Do you want your ship fixed or not?” Caitlyn snapped back, her voice low but sharp.

Vi exhaled through her nose. No comeback. Just a resigned sigh.

“Fine. What’s the play?”

“First,” Caitlyn said, stepping into the bathroom, “we make it sound like we’re doing exactly what we said we were.”

She twisted the sink tap. The pipes groaned, then sputtered out a stream of water.

“Let’s check the rooms,” Caitlyn whispered.

Vi nodded and eased the door open, stepping out first into the dim upstairs hallway.

And promptly stumbled.

“What the hell—?”

She caught herself on the wall, then looked down.

A thick black cable coiled across the hallway floor—partially tucked against the baseboard, just enough to avoid notice. It snaked toward the far end of the hall… and disappeared behind a tool shelf.

Vi crouched, brushing her fingers over the cable.

“Power cable,” Vi murmured. “And it goes somewhere behind this shelf.”

“I don’t suppose you can move it quietly?” Caitlyn whispered.

“I could,” Vi muttered, sizing it up, “but we don’t exactly have a lot of time here. You head back downstairs and stall them. Tell ’em I’m… I dunno, I’ve got explosive diarrhea?”

Caitlyn made a face, but nodded. “…Right.”

She turned and slipped back down the stairs. A moment later, Vi could hear the faint murmur of her voice—light, cheerful, full of practiced lies.

Vi turned back to the shelf.

Slowly. Carefully. She edged it aside just enough to slip through.

On the other side, a dim light spilled out of a narrow crawlspace.

Vi ducked down and crawled inside.

The second she stood upright, her nose filled with the sharp, metallic tang of blood. The smell was thick, suffocating.

She froze.

The room was tiled. Sterile. But the blood—

It was everywhere.

Spattered across the floor, streaked along the walls, soaked into discarded rags. It looked like a butcher’s workspace after a massacre.

“Jesus Christ…” Vi whispered.

She turned, about to slip back through the crawlspace, when she heard it.

A voice.

Weak. Barely a whisper.

“Help… me…”

Vi whipped around, eyes scanning the shadows.

And there he was, the man on the work ID, Deckard. Chained to the floor. Pale. Shaking. One leg missing entirely—just a crude stump wrapped in filthy gauze.

He looked up at her through swollen eyes.

“Please…”

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…” Vi whispered, staggering back a step, her hands clawing through her hair. “This is so fucked up. Oh, this is so fucked up.”

“Please…” Deckard groaned, louder now.

Vi spun and rushed to him, dropping to her knees and clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” She hissed.  “Sevika sent me to find you,” her eyes darted to the crawlspace behind her. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? But you have got to stay quiet.”

His wide, terrified eyes locked on hers.

“I’ll be back. Just—just wait here. Quietly. You can do that, right?”

He nodded weakly, breath hitching.

Vi swallowed hard, released him, and slipped back toward the crawlspace—one last glance over her shoulder before she disappeared through the opening.

Vi reached the top of the stairs, jaw tight, heart pounding.

She slipped her displacement gloves on—feeling the familiar buzz of power hum through her fingertips—then drew her sidearm.

There was no easy way out of this. Not if they were going to get Deckard out alive.

No more stalling. No more pretending.

She took a breath, steeled herself, and descended the stairs, boots landing heavy, purposeful.

“Alright, listen up, here’s how this is gonna—”

She froze.

The words caught in her throat.

Because waiting for her in the kitchen was the entire family.

Deirdre stood near the kitchen counter, still smiling.

The boys flanked the doorway.

And there, at the center of the table, was Caitlyn—seated, eyes wide with fear.

Jack stood behind her, a pistol pointed directly at her head.

“Really quite rude,” he said, his tone low and disappointed, as if scolding a child. “To go digging around someone’s home.”

The gun didn’t move, but the glint in his eyes turned sharper.

“Sit.”

Chapter Text

It didn’t sit right with Powder, the way Vi was so quick to lie to Silco of all people. 

This was Silco. The man who’d helped raise them after their parents were killed on Zaun. Who had looked out for them without pause, who had stood by Vander when no one else would. Who, ten years later, had opened his arms again like no time had passed at all.

No hesitation. No questions. Just love.

And what did Vi do?

She lied. For her.

For a Piltie.

And not just any Piltie—the daughter of The Chairwoman. The polished mouthpiece of the very system that tore their lives apart. That leveled Targon. That took everything from them.

Powder’s jaw clenched as she worked alongside Isha, trying not to let the anger bubble too close to the surface. Isha didn’t know much of it. Not yet. She didn’t need to. She deserved better than bitterness and war stories. She deserved what semblance of a childhood she and Ekko could give her. 

Still… it festered.

Vi was always the one talking about loyalty. About family. So why the hell did it feel like she was picking the enemy?

Isha pulled Powder from her frustrated train of thought, tugging at her sleeve and gesturing toward a pile of rusted scrap shoved beneath a collapsed shed awning. At first glance, it looked like garbage—warped plating, scorched wiring—but Isha pointed to a small cylindrical component half-buried in the debris, blinking faintly with residual power.

Powder crouched down, curiosity piqued. She swept the dirt away and let out a low whistle.

“Well damn…”

She pulled it out carefully, wiping the grime from the side to reveal a faded serial number etched into the alloy.

“Good catch, kid,” she said, grinning as she ruffled Isha’s hair. “This is a phase converter coil. These things were standard in pre-war military skip drives—hella rare, and way more efficient than what most ships are using now.”

Isha beamed.

“And more importantly,” Powder added, slipping the coil into her pack, “Sevika’s gonna shit herself when we slap this on her workbench.”

Isha darted off again, practically vanishing behind a wall of old engine casings and rusted bulkhead plates, eyes scanning for more hidden treasure.

Powder leaned against a half-melted fuel canister, arms crossed, watching her go.

She couldn’t help but smile.

There was something about the way Isha moved—wide-eyed, focused, always three steps ahead of where her feet were actually landing—that reminded her so much of herself. Back when things were… well, not simple. But better. Easier to believe in.

When people didn’t lie to their own families. 

Powder’s smile faded, the warmth from moments earlier draining from her face.

Vi. Caitlyn. Whatever ridiculous understanding that woman had coaxed her sister into—it couldn’t end soon enough.

She turned back to the pile of scrap and started working faster, hands moving with practiced intensity. Pulling, sorting, ripping out anything useful. The sooner they paid off their tab, the sooner Princess Kiramman could be shipped back to her ivory tower. Back to her safe, clean, neatly labeled world, and then Vi would go back to normal. Back to the sister Powder knew.

The one who didn’t lie to people she loved. Didn’t bend. Didn’t put herself in danger for a Core Worlder who couldn’t care less about her or her family.

She just had to hope Caitlyn didn’t get Vi killed in the meantime.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The room was deathly silent.

Vi’s pistol was still raised—trained squarely on Jack. His pistol, in turn, was still fixed on the back of Caitlyn’s head. She sat frozen at the table, her wide eyes locked on Vi. Afraid, trying, and failing, not to show it.

“Cait…” Vi said carefully, voice low and steady. “You alright?”

“She won’t be,” Jack said, calm as ever, “if I have to tell you again. Lose the gun. Sit.”

Vi’s eyes darted between the four of them—Deirdre, Ray, George, and Jack. All smiling. All armed. All monsters.

Then back to Caitlyn.

She exhaled slowly, jaw tight. Then, with agonizing reluctance, she bent down and placed her pistol on the floor. It was picked up all too eagerly by one of the boys. 

“Alright,” she said, raising her hands. “I’ll sit.”

She moved toward the table—slow, deliberate steps—and lowered herself into the seat across from Caitlyn, never taking her eyes off Jack.

“You could’ve had a lovely lunch and been on your way,” Deirdre said, tone light, almost scolding.

Vi scoffed. “Yeah, well, considering I’m not a Ravager, cannibalism kinda spoils my appetite, you goddamn psychopath.”

Jack’s smile thinned. “I’ll ask you not to speak to my wife like that.”

“And I’d ask you not to make a fucking pot roast out of severed limbs,” Vi shot back, eyes burning. “But it looks like I’m a little late for that one, huh?”

Deirdre clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. “That attitude of hers… it’s gonna spoil her. There won’t be any cuts worth saving.”

Then her eyes slid to Caitlyn—slow, almost fond. “Not like you, darling,” she cooed, reaching out to gently graze Caitlyn’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Vi’s chair scraped violently against the floor as she surged forward. “Don’t fucking touch her—!”

In a blink, she was yanked back down, steel flashing as a knife pressed hard against her throat.

“Sit still,” Jack said coldly. “Or we start cutting early.”

Vi’s chest heaved, jaw clenched tight. Her eyes blazed with fury, but behind them, her brain was working fast—calculating, assessing, searching for anything that could get them out of this alive. 

All Vi had was one play.

And it wasn’t a particularly good one.

Stall. Keep them talking. Keep them distracted. And hope like hell that Viktor would start wondering why it was taking them so damn long.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap. Her neck stung from the blade, her pulse thundered in her ears, but her face stayed unreadable.

She’d been in worse situations. Not many. But a few.

“You’re making a mistake,” Caitlyn said, her voice shaking but steady enough. “The lead mechanic in Jericho sent us. If we go missing right after coming to investigate someone else who went missing, there are going to be questions. People will come looking.”

Jack tilted his head, almost pitying her.

“We dump your friend here a mile up the road,” he said casually. “Make it look like a bandit attack. Won’t take much for folks to assume you were taken because you were just too pretty to pass up.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “And if anyone does come asking… well, we heard some commotion up the road, but… we don’t get many visitors out here. Hard to say what happened, really.”

“God, you people are fucking sick,” Vi muttered.

It might piss him off—hell, it should—but she knew the type. Guys like Jack couldn’t resist justifying their shit. And the longer he talked, the longer they had to live.

Jack let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Sick? Far from it. We’re survivors, girl. Life doesn’t offer much out here. You make do with what you have.”

“There’s enough shit out here trying to kill us already!” Vi snapped. “Bandits, Ravagers, the Tremor, a pissed-off Enforcer with an itchy trigger finger—take your pick. You’re not survivors. You’re just more goddamn monsters.”

His smile didn’t fade. But his grip on the gun tightened.

This was good. She was keeping him talking. And he was playing right into it.

Come on, Vik…

Jack sneered. “You wanna call us monsters? What about the ones who bled this whole damn planet dry? The ones in their shining cities—feasting while the rest of us starved? What about the Core? They took everything from us.”

Vi laughed—a bitter, hollow thing. “You wanna talk about the Core Worlds? Fine. Let’s fucking talk about it.”

She leaned forward, eyes blazing. “Let’s talk about how my parents were gunned down by the Allies when I was ten. About how I had to shove my little sister in a storage locker while they tore our home apart. About how we watched everyone we ever knew get turned to ash when the Monolith lit up Targon.”

Her voice cracked on the last word—but only for a second. She forced herself steady again, chest rising with heavy, furious breaths.

“I lived through hell, and I still never stooped to this. Never turned into you.”

“You were there…” Deirdre whispered. “You saw The Glassing.”

“That’s fucking right,” Vi said coldly. “I survived it—same way we’ll survive this.”

Her eyes locked onto Caitlyn’s, sharp and unwavering, and there was something beneath the words now—something pointed.

“Because me? My crew? We don’t just fight. We win.” She leaned back slightly in her chair, “and when the victors show up, you’d better be ready to move fast.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with recognition. Just for a second, but it was enough. She gave the smallest nod. Barely there. But Vi caught it.

Good girl.

She’d understood. Of course she had. 

Now all they had to do was stall long enough.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Fuck.

Powder let out a long sigh and dropped onto a crate, wiping sweat from her forehead as she scanned the scrapyard. Her whole body ached. She could barely keep her head up, let alone keep an eye on Isha.

God, that kid never stopped. Once she got going, it was like flipping a switch—pure momentum, no brakes. Powder didn’t have that kind of energy left. Not today.

A gentle hand slid across her back.

“Hey you,” Ekko murmured, crouching beside her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

Powder leaned into the touch, letting her eyes shut for a moment. She smiled, weakly but genuinely.

“Hey you,” she sighed. “How goes the boy genius work?”

He smirked. “Easy stuff. The generator just needed a new conduction loop and a fresh ion stabilizer. Nothing Isha couldn’t have figured out faster.”

She snorted. “Yeah, don’t give her any ideas. She’ll have your job next.”

Ekko chuckled, but his eyes lingered on her, soft with concern.

“You okay?”

The reality was, no. She wasn’t. And the more she’d let herself sit with it throughout the day, the more ridiculous she felt about it. She didn’t like Caitlyn, and she sure as hell didn’t trust her. But she trusted Vi. At least, she should. They’d always looked out for each other, always had each other’s backs. Some damn Piltie wasn’t going to ruin that. Vi was better than that, smarter than that. 

But the pit she felt in her stomach when she thought about yesterday, and all its red flags…

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just tired. And frustrated. And fucking starving. We’ve been at this shit all afternoon and—”

Like a magician with perfect timing, Ekko pulled two food boxes and a couple of water bottles from his bag, setting them down in front of her.

“Got you something from the bar,” he said with a smile. “Sit. Eat. I’ll take over junk patrol.”

She blinked at him. “But don’t you have to—?”

“I told you. It was easy stuff,” he cut in gently, then turned to scan the field of scrap. “Isha! Come eat!”

The little girl bolted out of the fray like a shot, eyes locking onto the food box like a heat-seeking missile.

If there was one thing Isha loved more than Powder and Ekko combined—it was food.

She skidded to a stop in front of them, already reaching with grabby hands and wide, eager eyes.

Powder laughed. “Alright, alright. Pace yourself, kid. You’re gonna choke.”

Ekko smiled and gave both girls a warm squeeze before getting up and dusting off his hands. “Time for some treasure hunting.”

He’d barely taken a few steps when Powder called out after him.

“Ekko?”

He turned, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

She hesitated for a second, then offered a soft, “Thank you. For… well, everything.”

He didn’t hesitate, he just smiled. 

“Always.”

And damn if she couldn’t feel how much he meant it.

She watched him dive into work, methodical and focused. And for the first time all day, her chest felt a little less heavy.

There weren’t many certainties in the galaxy—not for someone like Powder. Life was chaos, messy and unpredictable. People left. Things broke. Promises faded.

But Ekko?

Ekko was absolute. A fixed point in a galaxy that never stopped shifting. He’d always been there—quiet, steady, good. The kind of good she still didn’t fully believe she deserved.

And yet… there he was.

Always.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“How… long have you had to live this way?” Caitlyn asked, her voice soft, steady. Desperate to keep them talking. Desperate for Vi’s plan to work. For Viktor to show up before it was too late.

“Years, young lady,” Jack said bitterly. His grip on the pistol never wavered, but his posture eased—just a little. “And it never gets easier. We fight like hell for every scrap.”

“I… I can’t imagine how hard it’s been,” Caitlyn said, eyes wide, tone full of something close to sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Kind of you to say, sweetheart,” Deirdre purred, far too sweet for someone who’d just threatened to carve her up. “But sorries don’t keep us fed.”

“Lunch is getting cold,” Jack added gruffly. “We’ll be settling you in upstairs.”

Then he turned the barrel on Vi. “You, however—”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

A voice called through the front door, calm and curious.

“Hello? I appear to be lost. Might anyone be available to assist me?”

Jack’s eyes shot to the door. That split-second of distraction was all Vi needed.

She and Caitlyn moved at once.

Caitlyn lunged for the gun, hands gripped over Jack’s wrist, using every ounce of adrenaline in her body. Vi’s displacement gloves lit up in a flash of blue-white energy, crackling with power.

Idiots. They’d made her drop the pistol—sure. But they hadn’t even looked twice at the gloves.

Big mistake.

Vi spun on instinct, her fist arcing wide as the charge built in her glove. With a crackle of displaced air and a bone-crunching thud, her fist connected clean with the jaw of the brother holding the knife—sending him flying across the room like a ragdoll.

The second brother panicked, raising his blaster in a shaky grip and firing wild, panicked shots. Red bolts scorched past Vi—until one clipped her upper arm.

“Fuck!” she snarled, staggering from the burn.

Pain sharpened everything. The heat. The fury. The overwhelming need to end this.

She charged the shooter, tackling him to the floor. Before he could even scream, her fists came down—once, twice, three times. Each strike lit up the room with a surge of energy, and by the time she stopped, the man beneath her wasn’t moving.

He wasn't much of anything at all.

Caitlyn was still locked in a struggle with Jack, fingers clawing at his wrist, desperate to wrest the pistol away. The two crashed into the wall, the weapon trembling between them.

Across the room, Deirdre let out a guttural scream.

“My boys!”

Vi turned—just in time to see her charging, butcher knife raised high, murder in her eyes.

CRACK.

A single bolt from Vi’s pistol, glowing red with residual heat, dropped Deirdre mid-stride. She hit the ground in a heap, motionless.

Vi didn’t blink.

Caitlyn was pinned, pressed flat against the wall, her face strained as she gritted her teeth and forced the barrel toward Jack’s chest.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Jack stiffened. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something—but nothing came out. He stumbled back, staring down at the smoking holes in his chest. And then he fell.

Silence returned.

But it wasn’t peace. Just the quiet that always came after something terrible.

“Jesus Christ… Cait…” Vi stumbled toward her, eyes scanning frantically. Her arm throbbed with fire, but it barely even registered. She reached out, hands checking Caitlyn for cuts, burns—anything.

“Are you okay? Did he get you?”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened as they locked on the charred hole burned through Vi’s jacket. “Vi… your arm…”

“Arm’s fine,” Vi muttered, brushing it off, her eyes and hands still scanning over Caitlyn for any injuries. “Did he get you anywhere? Are you—?”

“I’m fine, Vi,” Caitlyn reassured quickly. “But you need to let me look at that. Laser burns can get infected so fast—”

“It’ll have to wait,” Vi cut in, urgency in her voice. “They’ve got the guy, Deckard, locked up behind that shelf upstairs. He’s chained to the floor and he’s in bad shape.”

“I am trusting, based on the lack of gunfire and the fact that you are still talking, that all is well?” Viktor called, his voice muffled through the front door.

Vi rushed to the door and swung it open. The little orb zipped inside like it had been waiting all day.

“You’ve got a knack for dramatic timing, Vik,” she sighed.

“How did you know to make all that noise outside?” Caitlyn asked as they walked up the steps.

“I analyzed the acoustic signature of your voices, noted elevated stress markers, and cross-referenced them against a behavioral database of 6,347 recorded hostage scenarios,” Viktor explained smoothly. “The probability of you being in immediate danger exceeded 92.4%. Thus, I initiated the most statistically effective disruption: unannounced external engagement.”

“…Seriously?” Vi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Viktor replied flatly. “This unit has thermal imaging. I saw you both sitting at a table with weapons pointed at you.”

Vi snorted and shook her head, laughing despite herself. “Whatever works.”

Before entering the crawl space, Vi gently grabbed Caitlyn by the shoulder.

“Hey…” she said, her voice softer than she meant it to be. “It’s… bad in there.”

Caitlyn glanced down at the touch, then back up at Vi, brow slightly raised. “Vi… I’m a doctor.”

Vi blinked, suddenly self-conscious. The warning, the hesitation, the hand on her shoulder—what the hell was she doing? Surely Caitlyn had seen worse in her field.

Vi cleared her throat and let her hand fall away. “Right. Of course. Doctor.”

Caitlyn offered the faintest smile. “But… thank you. For thinking to warn me.”

Vi nodded, not trusting herself to say anything less stupid. She turned, crouched, and led the way through the crawl space.

And Caitlyn followed—ready for whatever they were about to find on the other side.

Her stomach turned the second she stepped into the crawl space. Vi hadn’t been exaggerating. It was a nightmare—walls, floors, even the ceiling streaked and splattered with dried blood. There was no logic to it, no surgical precision, just brutal, animalistic butchery. 

And there, huddled in the corner, was a man. Eyes wide. Pale. A crude, blood-soaked bandage wrapped around the jagged remains of his leg. His breaths were shallow, panicked.

“Hey,” Vi said softly, crouching down beside him. “Told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” She glanced up at Caitlyn. “I brought my friend. She’s a doctor. She’s gonna take a look at you, and then we’re gonna get you out of here, alright?”

Deckard whimpered, eyes flicking to Caitlyn like he didn’t quite believe her. Like none of this could be real.

Caitlyn knelt beside the man, already pulling on a pair of gloves from her medkit. Her hands moved with swift efficiency as she carefully began unwrapping the bandage around what remained of Deckard’s leg. The moment the cloth peeled back, the smell hit—sharp, rotting, unmistakable.

The wound was bad. Deep tissue trauma. Jagged. Infected. The flesh around it was angry and swollen, streaked with lines that told her the infection was spreading—fast.

Her jaw tightened. “This… this isn’t good,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She reached into her kit and pulled out a small scanner, running it quickly over the wound. The readout only confirmed what her eyes already told her.

“More’s going to have to come off,” she said grimly. “At least mid-thigh. Maybe higher, but not here. Not like this.”

Deckard’s breath hitched. “Oh god…” he whispered, his voice fragile.

“Hey,” Vi said sharply, crouching down to meet his eye. “Look at me.” She waited until his eyes locked on hers. “You’re gonna live. You hear me? You’re gonna make it back to Jericho. That’s already more than this morning was offering you, right?”

She forced a smile. It was the best she could manage with the iron stink of blood and infection thick in the air.

Deckard didn’t smile back—but he nodded, just barely. And right now, that was enough.

“Viktor, could you scan the area for any possible means of transporting the patient?” Caitlyn asked as she adjusted her grip on the medkit.

“Of course, Doctor,” Viktor replied promptly. “Though this property appears… resource-deficient. Structurally unstable. No obvious transport equipment detected.”

“Doesn’t have to be fancy, Vik,” Vi muttered as she leveled her pistol at the rusted chain around Deckard’s ankle and fired. The metal snapped, and the man slumped forward with a pained groan. Vi caught him under the arms before he could collapse completely. “Just needs to be better than carrying this guy all the way back on foot.”

Viktor’s core hummed as he zipped out of the room to begin scanning the grounds.

“Help me with him?” Vi asked, her voice a little strained under Deckard’s weight.

Caitlyn nodded and slipped under his other arm, steadying him as best she could. “Careful—don’t jostle the leg. The last thing he needs is to go into shock.”

Together, they guided Deckard through the crawlspace, down the stairs, and out into the harsh sunlight.

Viktor returned a moment later, hovering low to the ground. “One transport method located. Structurally intact, moderately maneuverable.”

Vi squinted in the direction he indicated. “…Is that a wheelbarrow?”

“It is a wheelbarrow,” Viktor confirmed.

“You did ask for anything better than carrying him,” Caitlyn remarked, kneeling to help steady Deckard as Vi eased him into the rusted old wheelbarrow.

Vi raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her with a crooked grin. “Was that a joke, Doctor?”

“No, I’m simply being optimistic,” Caitlyn replied with the slightest hint of a smirk, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes as she straightened up. “Now let’s get him home.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Vik, how’s our passenger looking?” Vi sighed, her arms burning from hours of pushing a full-grown man in a wheelbarrow across uneven terrain.

“His vitals are surprisingly stable, all things considered,” Viktor replied. “Heart rate elevated but steady, blood pressure within survivable range. Infection remains a concern, however.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Vi muttered, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Pretty sure I smelled that infection before we even unwrapped him.”

Caitlyn walked alongside the barrow, keeping a close eye on Deckard. “He’s lucky,” she said quietly. “Another day in that room and this wouldn’t be a recovery—just a retrieval.”

“How far from Jericho, Vik?” Vi grunted. 

“Approximately forty-five minutes.” The orb buzzed overhead. 

“Alright,” Vi exhaled sharply, gently setting the wheelbarrow down with a grunt. Her shoulders screamed in protest, the dull ache in her arm now pulsing with sharp, angry heat. She rolled it a few times, trying to work through it, but it wasn’t doing much good.

Caitlyn stood beside her, arms crossed. “It would help if you dropped the tough girl routine and let me look at your damn arm.”

Vi gave her a sideways glance. “Can you make it quick?”

“That depends. Are you going to act like an adult, or cry about it again?” Caitlyn smirked, already unzipping her medkit.

Vi narrowed her eyes. “I never cried.”

“‘Ohhh, the light is too bright, Caitlyn, turn it off, I’m delicate!’” Caitlyn mocked, putting on a dramatically pained expression.

“I was concussed, you asshole!” Vi shot back. 

Caitlyn bit back a smile as she cleaned around the wound, clearly enjoying herself more than she should’ve been, given the situation.

“Alright, this will only sting for a moment,” she said, pulling out a small pressurized vial. She sprayed the burn with a burst of antiseptic foam, which hissed slightly on contact. 

Vi winced. 

“Oh don’t be dramatic,” Caitlyn sighed. “This part’s the worst of it.”

Next came a thin patch of nanofiber gauze that she peeled from a sterile pack. She pressed it gently over the wound and activated the seal—tiny micro-currents locked it in place and began administering localized painkillers and cell regrowth. “This’ll hold for a bit, but I need to properly dress it once we’re back. Don’t mess with it.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “You always this bossy?”

“Only with the patients who make a fuss.” Caitlyn answered. She reached for her scanner again, but this time… her tone shifted.

“You… saw The Glassing?”

Vi’s jaw clenched at the question. It wasn’t something she talked about, but there was no point in t red inf to walk back what she’d said earlier. “That’s right.”

Caitlyn paused, her hands still. “My god…” she whispered. That was what Vi had meant when she said the war took everything.

Vi didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“I’m… Violet, I’m so sorry.”

The name hit her like a soft jolt—unexpected, but not unwelcome. There were only a handful of people Vi could stand hearing her full name from. Vander. Silco. Powder if the moment was serious enough. Viktor, back before he switched to strictly “Captain” per protocol.

And now… weirdly… Caitlyn. 

She exhaled sharply and shrugged. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

It was a lie, one she’d told herself so many times it almost sounded true. But the truth was she hadn’t. Not really. And she probably never would. You didn’t make peace with watching watching a planet die. Watching everyone and everything you cared about vanish. You just kept moving. Kept surviving.

But she sure as hell wasn’t about to unpack all of that with a woman she’d known for twenty-four hours, no matter how good her bedside manner was.

Caitlyn studied her for a long moment, eyes flicking over Vi’s face, the subtle tension in her jaw, the careful way she deflected anything too close to vulnerability. She didn’t press. She recognized a shut door when she saw one—and more importantly, she knew better than to try and knock it down.

Instead, she focused on the task in front of her. She finished securing the wrap around Vi’s arm, double-checking the pressure seal and the quick-dissolve adhesive strip she’d laid beneath it. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it would do until they got back.

“That should hold you until we reach Jericho,” she said softly. Then, with a small smile, “Just… maybe try not to get shot again before then?”

Vi gave a short, dry chuckle. “I tend to make that a priority.”

“Captain,” Viktor cut in, floating just a little closer, “based on your recorded injury logs over the past ten years, there is statistically no indication that you prioritize avoiding being shot.”

Vi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Thank you, Vik. Love the vote of confidence.”

Caitlyn stifled a laugh as she gathered her supplies. “I’m starting to understand why you’re always in a mood.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m real charming,” Vi muttered as she hefted the wheelbarrow handles again with a groan, her arm protesting the movement.

They pushed on through the dust and heat, the distant outline of Jericho finally creeping back into view. The last stretch of the road lay ahead—sun beating down, muscles aching, and a bleeding, half-conscious mechanic bouncing in a rusted wheelbarrow.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Not bad…” Sevika muttered as she looked over the haul Isha and Powder had dragged back from the yard. She turned a piece of scrap over in her hands, nodding in quiet approval. “Not bad at all. Between this, and the help from the Boy Wonder and Jayce, you’ve actually done some half-decent work today.”

“Come now, Sevika,” Silco said evenly, “I know quality salvage and good work when I see it. This crew has far exceeded ‘half-decent’ by any reasonable standard.” 

She leaned back against her workbench, lighting another cigar. “Maybe. Or maybe that’s the nepotism talking,” she teased. “Now if Brains and Brawn ever drag their asses back, you just might—”

A sudden commotion outside cut her off.

Shouts. Running. A rising tide of voices rushing past her garage in waves.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed. She stepped outside, cigarette smoke curling from her lips as she watched the crowd gathering, pushing toward the main gate.

The rest of the crew and Silco filed out behind Sevika, drawn by the noise. Powder was the first to speak, eyes scanning the growing crowd.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asked, mostly to no one.

A woman sprinted past them, her voice high with excitement. “They’re back!” she yelled. “They’re back—and they found Deckard!”

Powder’s eyes widened. Ekko exchanged a look with Jayce. Even Sevika straightened slightly, the cigar in her mouth momentarily forgotten.

Sevika and Silco  pushed their way to the front of the crowd, ready for just about anything, until they saw him.

Deckard. Pale, unmoving, a bloody, bandaged stump where half of his leg should be. Crumpled in a rusted wheelbarrow like a pile of scrap.

Sevika’s jaw tightened. “Is he…?”

“He’s alive,” Caitlyn cut in, stepping forward. “But he needs proper medical attention now. The leg’s badly infected. It’ll have to come off.”

A few of Jericho’s guards stepped in, nodding, and carefully lifted Deckard from the wheelbarrow. They moved fast, rushing him toward the infirmary. Caitlyn followed for just a few steps before turning back, casting a quick glance at Vi.

The captain let the wheelbarrow tip over onto its side with a dull clatter and all but collapsed against the nearest wall, sliding down with a grunt. Her head leaned back, eyes shut, chest rising and falling with every exhausted breath.

Every muscle screamed. Her shoulder throbbed. And the wrap Caitlyn had done—well, true to her word, it wasn’t holding up great anymore. 

“Fucking hell,” Vi muttered, barely audible.

Caitlyn took a step toward Vi, instinct pulling her back to the woman clearly in pain, but she was immediately cut off as Silco, Sevika, and the crew swarmed in.

“Vi! Oh my god, are you alright?” Powder was already crouched in front of her sister, eyes wide with concern.

Vi let out a breath that was half-groan, half-laugh, her head resting against the wall. “Oh yeah,” she muttered, wincing. “Just… you know… pushed a full-grown man… in a wheelbarrow… across a fucking wasteland… for hours. Hell of a workout.”

Powder didn’t laugh. Her eyes locked on the bandage peeking through the burnt hole in Vi’s jacket, and her expression darkened.

“You’re hurt,” she said quietly. “What happened?”

Vi waved it off with a weak shrug. “Oh, that? Chalk it up to cannibals.”

Jayce’s head snapped toward Sevika. “What the hell, Sev?! You said there wasn’t any Ravager activity on that route!”

“Not Ravagers,” Vi muttered between greedy gulps of the water Ekko handed her. “Just plain ol’ cannibals.”

Silco stepped forward, his expression full of concern. “What happened out there?”

“Sevika’s guy brought them the parts. I doubt they even needed them. Probably just bait—lure someone into the middle of nowhere. Wouldn’t be shocked if that’s been their play for years.”

“Fuck…” Powder whispered, her voice barely audible. “And they ate his fucking leg?”

“Not quite,” Vi exhaled, half a laugh under her breath. “Safe to say we ruined their lunch.” Her eyes flicked to Caitlyn, now making her way to the infirmary. “They were gonna do the same to her, too. If Vik hadn’t shown up when he did…”

“If I were a salaried crew member,” Viktor interjected flatly, “I would be filing for hazard pay and a raise.”

“How about a good cleaning instead?” Ekko offered, already motioning toward the grime-caked drone. “C’mon, Isha—grab a rag.”

He gently guided the girl away, mindful not to let her hear more than she already had. She was tough, yeah—but still a kid. And no kid needed that kind of story burned into their memory.

Jayce pulled Vi to her feet, steadying her with a hand under her good arm. He looked over at Sevika, his voice edged with an earned arrogance.

“Well, considering the work we did for you today—and the fact that our captain here literally saved your guy’s life—I’d say that makes us square on this whole thing, yeah?”

Sevika scoffed, lighting a cigar with a flick of her thumb. “Square? In your dreams, Talis.”

“Sevika…” Silco urged. Not quite a warning, but certainly not begging. 

She paused, studying the crew, Vi’s bandaged arm, the grime on all of them, the lingering scent of blood still thick in the air. Then she nodded once.

“I can knock it down to two thousand.”

It wasn’t ideal. It wiped out the full payout from the recovery job that had started this mess. But a net zero was better than bleeding credits.

Vi nodded, her voice low but firm. “Deal.”

Silco gave her a warm, familiar smile. “Then it’s settled. Repairs on The Gauntlet begin first thing tomorrow.” He gestured back toward the bar, the hub of Jericho’s activity. “But for now—assuming today hasn’t completely ruined your appetite—let’s get you off your feet. I think you’ve more than earned a hot meal and a seat that isn’t dirt.”

Vi gave a tired nod, her shoulders sagging with relief. “Yeah… that sounds really nice.”

Jayce lingered behind, already elbow-deep in logistics with Sevika, running through a list of replacement parts. That left Vi, Powder, and Silco to make their way slowly back down the road toward the bar, the sky above them streaked in late-afternoon yellow and green.

Vi’s legs ached, her arm throbbed, and her head still pulsed with a dull pain—but with each step, the warmth of Jericho’s lanterns grew closer, and for the first time all day, she allowed herself to breathe.

The familiar scent of alcohol, grease, and something faintly fried hit Vi like a warm blanket as they sank into the booth. The cracked vinyl cushion was barely padded, but right now, it might as well have been a throne. She let out a low groan of relief, slumping into the corner.

Silco glanced between the two sisters, then leaned back in his seat. “Your friend… Matilda. Is she alright?”

“Yeah,” Powder muttered, arms crossed. “How’s the lovely Matilda?”

Vi shot her a warning look, then turned back to Silco. “She’s… fine. I think. Didn’t say much. She was too busy making sure that guy was alright on our way back.”

“Real humanitarian,” Powder muttered, not even trying to hide her sarcasm.

Vi pinched the bridge of her nose. “She did good out there, Pow. You should’ve seen how she handled herself in that nightmare.”

“Sure,” Powder said with a shrug. “And she can tell her dinner party friends all about her fun little adventure once we drop her back in Piltover.”

Vi sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

The delivery of the burger to the table was a godsend. Vi tore into it like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Jeez, Sis. Try chewing,” Powder said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Vi didn’t bother replying—just flipped her the middle finger mid-bite.

Silco laughed, low and warm. “I can’t even begin to describe how much I’ve missed you both, especially the little things like this.” His voice softened, eyes distant. “I spent so many years just hoping… praying that somehow, at least the two of you made it.”

“You can thank Vander, Viktor, and fuckin’ Bedrock Protocol for that,” Vi muttered between mouthfuls.

Silco’s eyebrows lifted. “So that’s how he did it.” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Smart bastard. He knew damn well you wouldn’t stay away unless he made you.”

Vi didn’t respond right away. She just nodded quietly.

“We… watched it happen,” Powder said, her voice small. “From up there.”

Silco’s expression crumpled. He brought a hand to his mouth. “Oh, girls… I’m so sorry…”

Vi stared at her plate. “Hated him for years after that,” she admitted. “Some days… I think I still do.”

Silco reached across the table, his hand gently brushing hers. “Grief’s funny like that,” he said softly. “But Violet… he loved you both. To the ends of the universe.”

Vi swallowed hard, her throat tight. She gave the smallest of nods. “Yeah… I know.”

“And god, would he ever be proud of you both,” Silco said, his voice rich with warmth. The smile spread again, softer this time. “Look at you—your own crew, your own ship. Traveling the galaxy, carving out your place in it. It’s exactly what he dreamed for you.”

Vi’s gaze met Powder’s across the table, something quiet passing between them. “We’ve done alright for ourselves,” she said, her voice soft but certain.

Silco leaned in, arms around their shoulders, pulling them both in close. “The important thing is you did it together. That’s what matters more than anything else in this life. Staying strong—and staying together.”

Vi nodded, the lump in her throat just barely kept at bay.

Powder smiled at her sister and reached for her hand, squeezing. “Always with ya, Sis.”

Vi squeezed back. “Always.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Caitlyn stepped out of the infirmary, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. It had been a long, brutal evening for Deckard—but he was going to make it. The infection had spread farther than she’d hoped, but not as far as she’d feared. She’d managed to minimize the amount of leg they’d had to remove, and for the first time in days, she felt like she could be proud of something. She’d done her job. She’d helped save a life. And for now, that was enough.

“The great Doctor Matilda,” Vi teased, her voice cutting through the quiet and startling Caitlyn. The doctor flinched, instinctively pulling her scarf back up before realizing it was just Vi—and slowly lowering it again.

“Damn it, Vi,” she muttered, exhaling sharply. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Vi tilted her head, feigning innocence. “What, did something happen today that would make you jumpy?” she deadpanned.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Hilarious.”

“It’s a gift,” Vi said with a smirk, then held out a small box. “Speaking of gifts—I grabbed this for you from the bar.”

Caitlyn blinked in surprise, eyeing the box. “Oh?”

“You should eat. Didn’t think I’d have an appetite either, but this burger? You’ll find your appetite.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened. “That’s… really thoughtful. Thank you.”

Vi shrugged, then immediately winced. The motion wasn’t lost on Caitlyn.

“How’s the arm?” she asked, voice shifting to something gentler.

“Fine,” Vi lied, without much conviction.

Caitlyn’s tone turned flat. “Shrug again.”

“…I don’t feel like it,” Vi deflected.

“Thought so.” Caitlyn stepped closer and gently took Vi’s arm. “Come on. I need to check your concussion anyway. Let’s get you to your room.”

Vi glanced down at Caitlyn’s hand, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Caitlyn, suddenly aware of the contact, quickly let go and cleared her throat.

“After you, I suppose,” she said, trying to recover some semblance of professionalism.

Vi said nothing, just smirked faintly as she started walking back toward the bar—Caitlyn falling into step beside her.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Fucker,” Vi grimaced into the stillness of the room as Caitlyn peeled back the makeshift bandage and dabbed antiseptic gel around the burn. The gel hissed softly as it met skin.

“That had better be directed at the pain and not me,” Caitlyn said, not looking up.

“Fifty-fifty,” Vi muttered through gritted teeth as Caitlyn applied a cell-regenerative bandage.

“Mmm.” Caitlyn nodded, dry. “Then I’ll be sure to be fifty percent less gentle.”

Vi scoffed. “Shit, this is you being gentle?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Lie down and shut up. I still need to check that concussion.”

Vi let herself sink further into the mattress, wincing only slightly as Caitlyn brought the scanner back to her eyes. She did her best, for once, not to flinch at the light.

“You okay?” Vi asked, her voice quieter now, softer than it had been all day.

Caitlyn nodded, offering a small, tired smile. “A little sore. A little tired. Nothing rest won’t fix.” She set the scanner aside.

Vi shook her head. “Not what I meant.”

Caitlyn’s brow lifted in curiosity.

Vi exhaled slowly. “Look… I know you’re a doctor. You’ve seen your fair share of shit, I’m sure. But today was…” She hesitated, then gently reached up and lightly tapped a finger against Caitlyn’s temple. “You okay up here?”

Caitlyn’s breath caught—just slightly. The gesture, the concern—it wasn’t what she expected from Vi, but it certainly was… appreciated.

After a pause, she nodded, slower this time. “It was… yeah. It was a lot. But like you said,” she smiled faintly, “I’ve seen some shit.”

Vi gave a small nod in return. “You did good today, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn’s smile grew, just a touch. “Thank you, Violet.”

There it was again. That full name. Should’ve grated on her. Didn’t.

They sat in a brief, comfortable silence while Caitlyn ran one final scan.

“Looks like you’re out of the woods,” she murmured. “No coma for you.”

“And here I was looking forward to a nice, long nap,” Vi sighed dramatically.

“Maybe plan a vacation before your next job?” Caitlyn offered lightly.

Vi scoffed. “Sure. Let me just check the rainy day fund real quick.”

“Does the sarcasm have an off switch, Captain?” Caitlyn asked dryly.

“If I ever find it, I’ll let you know,” Vi shot back.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes with a small smile and stood. “Your burn should be healed by morning. Try not to sleep on that side.”

Vi sat up a little. “Where are you going?”

Caitlyn gave her a look. “To find a room? I’m not exactly eager to spend another night slumped in a chair, if it’s all the same to you.”

Vi blinked, realizing how dumb the question had sounded. “Right. Yeah. No, of course. That makes sense.”

Caitlyn paused, brow raised. “Unless… you’d rather I stay? To check on you?”

Vi waved her off quickly, clearing her throat. “Nah. Definitely not. Go. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“Right. If you’re sure,” Caitlyn said as she reached for her bag. “Goodnight, Vi. And… thank you again. For dinner. And, well, for everything today.”

Vi smiled. “Yeah. Of course.”

Caitlyn gave her one last glance, pulled her scarf up over her face, and slipped quietly out the door.

Caitlyn slipped quietly back down to the bar, hoping there might be one more key left hanging on the rack.

She approached the bartender—broad-shouldered, tattooed forearms, and a name tag that read CHUCK.

“Excuse me… Chuck?” she asked politely. The man looked up from where he was scribbling on a battered clipboard. “Any chance there’s another room available for the night?”

Chuck glanced at the clipboard, flipped a few pages, then finally gave a slow nod. “Room needs a quick clean. Gimme fifteen.”

“Thank you,” Caitlyn said, genuinely relieved.

She spotted an empty booth in the corner and slumped down into it, her body finally starting to acknowledge the day’s exhaustion. Fifteen minutes felt like forever, but after days of cold floors, metal chairs, and a constant thrum of adrenaline, the thought of a real bed was practically paradise. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and waited for her room to be ready.

“May I sit?” a voice asked gently.

Caitlyn opened her eyes and looked up—Silco stood there, polite as ever. She swallowed hard but gave a small nod. “By all means.”

He smiled, gracious, and slid into the seat across from her.

“Vi told me you did well out there today,” he said softly.

Caitlyn let out a nervous laugh, lifting a shoulder in a modest shrug. “I don’t know about that. I just… didn’t get killed.”

“In my experience, that’s no small feat. Especially outside these walls.” Silco gave a casual wave to a passing server, signaling for two drinks.

“And that’s not even mentioning you saved one of our people’s lives,” he added.

“I mean… Vi really did the heavy lifting. I just—”

“You’re far too modest,” Silco interrupted gently, amused. “You should allow yourself some praise every now and then.”

The server returned, sliding two short glasses onto the table—deep amber liquid with a twist of citrus. Silco nodded his thanks, then turned back to her.

“Please. Have a drink. You’ve earned it.”

Caitlyn hesitated. Her eyes flicked between the drink and the man across from her. She’d managed to keep herself anonymous so far—she wasn’t sure she could afford the risk.

Silco noticed. His expression softened. “Whatever—or whoever—you’re hiding from… you’re not the only one. Out here, we’re all running from something. But in Jericho? You’re among friends.”

His eyes held no malice. Just calm, quiet sincerity. She studied him—really studied him. This man, for all his rough edges and history, clearly cared. About Vi, about Powder… about this place and the people in it.

Slowly, Caitlyn nodded. She reached up and pulled the scarf down from her face.

And just like that, she saw it. The flicker of recognition in Silco’s eyes.

Her stomach tightened. Her pulse spiked.

“Well,” he said after a moment, voice still even, maybe a little amused, “that certainly explains it.”

Caitlyn braced herself—but Silco just smiled.

“You don’t need to worry, Dr. Kiramman. In Jericho, we don’t care who you are or where you come from. What matters is what you do. And today?” He raised his glass slightly. “You did something good.”

Relief settled over her like a warm wave. She managed a real smile. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry for the lie. For dragging Violet into it. She—”

“Does she know you call her that?” he interrupted, tilting his head.

Caitlyn blinked. “Violet?”

He nodded. “She doesn’t usually let people call her that. Vi’s Vi. Always has been.” He studied her for a beat. “If she’s letting you say it… well, you’ve clearly earned it.”

Caitlyn looked down at her drink, smiling quietly now. She didn’t say anything—but in that silence, something unspoken passed between them.

Trust. Maybe even the beginnings of understanding.

Caitlyn sat quietly with Silco, both of them sipping their drinks in a rare, comfortable silence. The burn of alcohol warmed her throat, but not unkindly—more like the afterglow of a long day finally beginning to ease.

Then a voice called out from across the bar, loud enough to cut through the hum of conversation.

“Miss! Your room’s ready!”

She looked up to see Chuck gesturing from behind the counter, a key in hand. She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chuck.”

Silco rose with her, his expression soft. “Well, I won’t keep you.”

Caitlyn returned his smile. “Goodnight, Silco. And… thank you again. For everything.”

He gave a quiet nod. “Sleep well, Caitlyn.”

She turned and headed for the stairs, scarf now forgotten around her neck, the warmth of trust radiating in her chest.

The upstairs hallway was dim and quiet, a stark contrast to the flickering warmth of the bar below. Caitlyn walked slowly, room key in hand, until she found the door marked “15.” She slipped it into the lock.

The room was small but clean—simple bed, modest desk, a narrow window with a dusty curtain, and a clean towel folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and the desert wind that slipped through the cracked window.

She shut the door gently behind her, exhaling for what felt like the first time all day.

The few days, they had been… too much. The pirates holding her in that cell. The crash. The Ravagers. Her panic attack. The cannibals. Vi getting shot. The look in her eyes when she asked Caitlyn if she was okay.

Caitlyn shrugged off her jacket, tossed it over the chair, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. For a moment she just sat there, hands in her lap, back hunched. The adrenaline was gone now, and in its place was the weight of everything they’d just survived.

She reached up, touching her cheek where Deirdre had grazed her—her stomach turned at the memory.

Then her hand drifted to her temple, where Vi had tapped her. Steadying. Grounding.

Caitlyn blinked slowly, and finally laid back on the bed. She didn’t pull up the covers. Didn’t change. Just stared at the ceiling as her breath slowed.

Tomorrow, she’d be back on her homeworld. Back on Piltover. Back to the familiar halls, the gleaming skylines, the order of it all.

She should be excited. Relieved.

So why did it feel like she was about to be leaving something behind?

The thought lingered in her chest like a weight she couldn’t name. She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Sleep, she told herself.

Sleep would clear her head. And in the morning, her mind would be hers again.

At least… she hoped it would.

Chapter Text

Vi watched from the ridge as the convoy rumbled toward The Gauntlet, hoverloaders gliding smoothly over the dirt with crates of salvaged parts and repair equipment. It should have felt like a victory. The repairs were finally underway, her ship was one step closer to flying again. And yet, as the sun beat down on her bruised shoulders and aching arm, all she could feel was a sharp pang of something else.

Resentment, maybe.

“Where the fuck were those yesterday?” she muttered, watching one of the hoverloaders float effortlessly past.

Caitlyn walked beside her, posture composed as ever. She didn’t look over, just let out a soft, amused breath.

“Probably would’ve had to pay extra to rent one,” she replied dryly.

Vi let out a tired laugh, shaking her head. “Of course we would’ve.”

They walked in step, the rhythmic hum of hoverloaders filling the silence between them. For once, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Something Vi hadn’t brought up, but couldn’t help noticing, was the absence of Caitlyn’s scarf. Had she begun to let her guard down? Had she simply become too tired to care? Either way, no more hiding. No more Matilda.

She glanced sideways, but Caitlyn was already looking forward again, watching The Gauntlet slowly come back to life.

Vi let out a breath and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Guess we’ll be flying again soon.”

Caitlyn nodded. “Seems that way.”

Vi nodded too, but didn’t smile. The thought should’ve brought her relief. This whole nightmare was about to be over. The doctor would be back on Piltover, and Vi and her crew could get back to doing what they did best, but with a newfound sense of identity with Silco on Zaun. She and Powder had finally gotten a piece of their old life back, something they’d thought was lost forever. 

So why did it feel like something else was slipping away?

“So…” Vi started, trying for casual but the involuntary biting of her lip betraying her, “you’ve got one hell of an explanation to give your mom, huh?”

Caitlyn groaned, dragging both hands down her face. “God willing, she’s been too buried in policy memos and expansion bills to realize I’ve even left. If I’m lucky, I slip back into my office like nothing ever happened and maybe come up with a better plan for my next... study.”

Vi smirked. “And if she’s not buried in paperwork?”

“Then I’ll be sitting through a seventy-two-slide lecture, complete with charts, graphs, and statistics all pointing to this being the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done..” She muttered.

Vi folded her arms and raised a brow. “You’re telling me that despite being a grown-ass woman in your twenties, you still get lectured by mommy?”

Caitlyn shot her a tired glance. “She’s not exactly a woman you walk away from. If she wants you to hear something, you can bet your ass you’ll hear it.”

The two stood in silence for a moment before Caitlyn turned back to her. “And you? Your crew? What happens when all this is over?”

Vi shrugged like it was nothing. “Same thing we always do, I guess. Drift around the systems, chase credits, shoot something big and mean, win a few hands of Dreadnaught, and maybe ‘borrow’ some cargo that definitely doesn’t have our names on it.” She grinned. “You know, the usual.”

“It doesn’t ever get… exhausting?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi shook her head. “Not for a second.”

“What about… a home? Surely you miss having somewhere to call home.”

Vi looked out fondly at the rest of her crew. Powder and Ekko laughing as Isha slept on Ekko’s back, Jayce swatting at Viktor who had found his new favorite pastime, hovering around Jayce’s head to annoy him. 

A small, quiet smile tugged at her lips.

“I’ve got one,” she finally answered. Then she looked back at Caitlyn. “Home’s not walls or a roof or a decent mattress. It’s not a fixed place. It’s wherever they are.”

Caitlyn just watched Vi for a moment, the way her eyes gazed fondly over her crew, her family, her home. And it was clear, she meant every word. What Vi had with this crew was special, it was precious, and it was something Caitlyn had been missing since her father died. Something she could only hope she’d find again someday. 

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, lifting her canteen for a sip of water. “Well, here’s to you and your home getting back to the stars.”

“Yeah,” Vi said, still smiling, “back to the stars.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The repairs were moving faster than anyone had expected, a welcome surprise. Turns out, saving someone’s life bought you a lot of goodwill, especially in a place like Jericho. Half the town had shown up, tools in hand, eager to pitch in. And Vi? She could only watch, arms crossed and shoulders finally starting to relax, as The Gauntlet slowly came back to life.

Viktor’s emergency lockdown protocols had held like a dream. The hull bore the scars of attempted break-ins—burn marks, dents, a few scorched panels—but nothing vital had been breached. No systems torn apart, no cargo stolen. Just superficial damage. Cosmetic wounds. Nothing a fresh coat of paint couldn’t cover. The ship was intact.

A gentle hand settled on Vi’s shoulder, grounding her just as much as it pulled her from her focused stare at The Gauntlet. She glanced up to see Silco beside her, watching the bustle of the town with quiet pride.

“Can’t remember the last time I saw Jericho come together like this,” he said, voice low and full of wonder.

Vi exhaled, dryly amused. “Guess all it took was a brush with some cannibals.”

Silco chuckled. “You did a good thing here, Violet.”

She shrugged. “Did what I had to do. Ship wasn’t gonna fix itself.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “No. It was more than that. You carried that man for miles. Nearly got yourself killed. I know you, Violet. And I knew Vander. He didn’t raise you to chase credits. He raised you to care.”

Vi’s jaw clenched at the name. Her eyes drifted back to the ship. “I’m not Vander,” she said quietly. “And it’s been a long time since anyone raised me to do anything.”

Silco didn’t respond right away. Just stood there beside her, hand still on her shoulder, 

“Hey, Captain!” a mechanic called out from beneath one of the stabilizers. “We’re getting close! Should be ready to run a full systems test in just a coupl—”

He never finished.

A sharp crack echoed through the canyon. The man dropped instantly, lifeless.

Vi spun toward the source, instincts flaring. And then she saw them… figures pouring over the ridge.

“Ravagers!” someone screamed, the alarm spreading like wildfire.

But this wasn’t like before. This wasn’t a scouting party or a stray group of hungry lunatics. This was a horde. Two hundred of them. Maybe more. Armed. Organized. Patient. They’d waited, knowing someone would come back for the ship.

They were here for The Gauntlet.

They were here for blood.

“Vi?!” Powder’s voice rang out, equal parts panic and expectation. “Tell me you’ve got a plan!”

She didn’t, but she sure as hell wasn’t about to let these people know that. 

“If you’re not armed, get on The Gauntlet! Now!” she shouted. Her voice cut through the growing chaos. Guards snapped into motion, waving mechanics and townspeople toward the ship. The Gauntlet’s side hatch hissed shut behind the last of them, locking tight.

Vi and Silco dropped from the ridge, landing hard beside the town’s defenders and the rest of her crew.

“Spread out! Work the edges, and pull them into the center!” Vi called.

The guards just stared, stunned. Panic on every face.

Silco stepped in, voice sharp and commanding. “You heard her. Move!”

That got them going. The line began to fan out along the canyon’s rim just as the Ravagers began pouring into the canyon.

Vi dropped behind a pile of busted rock beside Caitlyn, dust in her lungs and adrenaline surging.

“Hey! You good?” she asked, eyes scanning the ridge.

Caitlyn nodded. Pale. Shaking. But not frozen. Her grip was steady, her aim already tracking the first wave of monsters and taking shots.

“I’m good.”

Vi allowed herself the smallest smile. “Atta girl.”

The Ravagers kept coming. The battle had begun.

Caitlyn’s pistol cracked with each red beam it unleashed, but she already knew it wasn’t enough. The weapon’s range was short, the stopping power weaker than what she needed against creatures this savage. It was a sidearm meant for self-defense, not holding back a goddamn horde.

A guard beside her screamed as a bullet slammed into his chest, dropping him instantly. His rifle hit the ground with a clatter.

She stared at it.

Well… that was one hell of a way for the universe to answer a prayer.

She dropped the pistol, scooped up the rifle, and it was like slipping into a familiar rhythm. Her heart still pounded, but her hands? Her hands knew exactly what to do. All those weekends at the range with her father, he’d always been patient, always steady.

Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull. Exhale, then squeeze. Perfect.

She lined up the shot, exhaled slowly, and fired. One Ravager down. Another. She adjusted for the next one, calm, controlled. This was her element. The chaos faded around the edges, tunnel vision locking in.

This was no longer about surviving.

This was about protecting the people she’d come to care about.

Vi couldn’t help but stare for a moment—longer than she should’ve, probably—as Caitlyn, quiet, prim, clearly-out-of-her-element Caitlyn, landed killshot after killshot with terrifying precision. She hadn’t been exaggerating a few days earlier. She really was an excellent shot.

But even with Caitlyn firing like a seasoned marksman, even with Powder unloading mag after mag into the fray, with Ekko’s coilcaster lighting up the canyon and the town’s guards holding their line… it wasn’t enough.

Not this time.

If this had been a raiding party, Vi would’ve liked their odds. They’d fought those off before. Hell, they'd enjoyed it once or twice.

But this? This was a fucking horde .

And hordes didn’t retreat.

Hordes didn’t scare.

Hordes didn’t stop until there was nothing left. They tore apart entire armies.

And this sure as hell wasn’t an army.

This was just a bunch of outgunned survivors trying to hold a line against a wall of teeth and bloodlust.

Vi tried to block out the thought, what happened when Ravagers broke through. What they did to people once the screaming started. The things they liked to do. It was the kind of nightmare you didn’t even tell around a fire.

And if they didn’t come up with something fast, it wouldn’t be a nightmare.

It’d be reality.

“I’m out!” Powder yelled, panic sharp in her voice.

 “Caster’s drained!” Ekko shouted, trying to slam a fresh cartridge into place only to see the coil flicker and die.

Vi’s heart was in her throat. She scanned the line—frantic guards, dwindling firepower, desperation in every pair of eyes.

She turned to Silco. If anyone still had some kind of plan, it was him. But even as he fired off calm, surgical shots into the horde, she could see it, the crack in his composure, the fear behind his eyes.

Caitlyn was still firing, her stance rigid, her breathing measured, but Vi could see the tears brimming, threatening to spill with every shot. She was scared. Hell, they all were.
They all knew. 

This was it.

Vi shut her eyes, gritting her teeth. She needed something, anything. A miracle. A plan. Hell, even dumb luck.

She thought of the crew. Of Powder. Of Ekko. Of Jayce. Of Isha.

Of Caitlyn.

She was supposed to protect them. That was the one damn thing she was supposed to do. Keep them safe. And now... Now they were out of time.

Then…

Heat.

Blinding, searing heat. A wall of it.

A light so bright that even behind her closed eyes, Vi saw pure white.

A sound tore through the air, shrieking like the sun had opened its throat and screamed—energy, deafening and raw.

Then everything was silent. 

Not the kind of silence you get during a break in the gunfire. Not a lull.

This was final.

Slowly, Vi cracked one eye open.

Ash, everywhere.

Ravagers, or what was left of them, were nothing more than scorched piles of blackened armor and dust. The canyon reeked of smoke and burnt flesh. There wasn’t a single thing left standing.

Except one, floating little orb, its casing still faintly glowing from discharged energy.

“…What the fuck…” Powder whispered.

“Captain,” Viktor said evenly, “it would appear this unit is outfitted with restricted military-grade capabilities.”

Vi blinked. “ What? ”

“Ekko…?” Powder asked.

“I—I didn’t know!” he sputtered. “Me and Isha found it in a junk heap on Demacia! We thought it was just an old observation drone we could repurpose for Vik!”

“It would seem,” Viktor said, his voice almost cheerful, “that there are many features I was previously unaware of. This will require further exploration. How exciting!”

“And horrifying,” Jayce added, wide-eyed.

Viktor bobbed unsteadily in midair. “This unit’s energy levels are… significantly depleted. I will need to initiate a temporary shutdown to preserve core functions.”

And just like that, the orb lowered itself gently to the dirt and went still, its lights dimming one by one until only a faint hum remained.

Jayce blinked. “He just wiped out an entire horde ... and now he needs a nap?”

Vi let out a tired laugh, running a hand back through her sweat-soaked hair. “After that save? He can have a five-star hotel and a fucking fruit basket.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The final touches were made. Panels sealed, wiring rerouted, stabilizers recalibrated. Viktor’s core was gently slotted back into the Gauntlet’s mainframe, and with a soft whir, the entire ship came alive.

Lights flickered on, systems rebooted, and that familiar low hum of power coursed through the corridors.

Vi exhaled, a weight lifting off her chest as she gripped the edge of the console. “There you are…” she murmured. Her ship. Her home. It had only been a few days, but after everything, it felt like she'd been holding her breath for weeks.

At Vi’s insistence, the townspeople of Jericho, the mechanics, guards, and every brave soul who’d helped save The Gauntlet, were brought aboard for the return trip. What would’ve been hours on foot became minutes in the air.

Vi stood at the helm, her hands steady on the controls, eyes scanning the terrain as it blurred beneath them. The low rumble of the ship’s thrusters filled her chest like a heartbeat she’d almost forgotten.

She laughed, loud and full and unrestrained, as The Gauntlet soared forward. It wasn’t just the ship. She was flying again. After all the chaos, the blood, the crash… they were in the air. On their terms.

Vi scanned the deck of The Gauntlet . Her crew, her family , were all alive, and for the most part, without a scratch. Ekko was already back at his bench, tinkering like nothing had happened, while Isha sat nearby, watching with quiet fascination. Powder had settled behind her, braiding the girl’s hair the way she liked when it got long like this, her fingers nimble, gentle.

Jayce was animated, gesturing as he talked shop with a few Jericho mechanics, proudly walking them through every upgrade he’d made to The Gauntlet over the last couple of years. His laugh echoed from somewhere near the engine core.

And then there was Caitlyn.

To everyone’s surprise, she’d fought like hell today. And for once, even Powder had nothing to say. No quip. No insult. Just quiet acknowledgement.

The doctor sat alone now, near a viewport, her eyes distant as she watched the hazy, rust-colored expanse of Zaun stretch out beneath them.

Vi made her way over and dropped into the seat beside her, nudging her shoulder with a soft grin.

“Who knew a doctor could be such a badass?” she teased.

Caitlyn managed a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Vi gave a small nod, the smile fading. “The last few weeks have been… kind of a nightmare, huh?”

Caitlyn exhaled. “They’ve certainly been memorable.”

“What’s the first thing you’re looking forward to once you’re back home?” Vi asked, her tone light but curious.

Caitlyn thought for a moment, then gave a small, wistful smile. “I suppose… I’ve been craving a cold honeyfruit soda.”

Vi raised a brow. “Honeyfruit? Damn, fancy. You can only find that stuff on that moon around Demacia… Palclyff, right?”

Caitlyn nodded. “Mhm. It’s always been my favorite. My father used to take me to this little shop down the street that imported it. I’d get one after school every Friday like clockwork.”

She laughed, but there was more in the sound, something soft and heavy. “I still stop by when I can. The place hasn’t changed at all.”

Vi turned slightly in her seat to look at her. And there it was again, that flicker. That quiet ache behind Caitlyn’s carefully constructed calm. A sadness that had settled deeper than the bruises or exhaustion of the last few days.

Without thinking, Vi reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You did good today, Cait. You made one hell of a difference.”

Caitlyn gave a small, self-deprecating scoff. “I’d say the drone with the death beam made the difference.”

Vi laughed. “Okay, yeah, fair. That was insane. But still, you showed up. You didn’t freeze. You helped save people. That counts.”

She let the words hang for a moment, then added, “You should be proud of yourself. Not a lot of Pilties I’d trust to have my back.” She glanced at her. “Turns out I’ve got two of them now.”

This time, Caitlyn’s smile felt a little more real. “Thank you, Violet.”

Vi nodded, then stood to leave, ready to give her space, when Caitlyn’s voice stopped her.

“Why do you let me call you that?”

Vi blinked. “Hmm?”

“Silco told me you don’t let anyone call you Violet.” Caitlyn’s gaze stayed fixed out the viewport. “So… why haven’t you stopped me?”

Vi stopped and considered the question for a moment, clearly bouncing a few different answers around in her mind. Then when she’d clearly settled on one, she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Doesn’t sound weird when you say it.”

And with that, she turned and walked off, leaving Caitlyn alone with the view, and a strange tightness in her chest.

The Gauntlet touched down just outside Jericho, its landing struts hissing as the ship settled onto the pad. One by one, the townspeople filed out, each offering warm farewells to the crew, some with gratitude, others with admiration, many pausing to thank Vi and Caitlyn again for bringing Deckard home.

Last to disembark was Silco.

He paused at the top of the ramp, his gaze fixed on the two girls who had once been his world, and somehow, still were. There was love in his eyes, unspoken and unspent from a decade of absence. Then, without a word, he opened his arms.

Vi and Powder crashed into him like they’d never left.

“I’m proud of you,” Silco murmured, his voice barely holding steady. “So proud. And… he would be too.”

Vi nodded into his chest, blinking back the tears as she looked over at Powder, who looked just as wrecked as she felt.

Silco held them both a moment longer, then eased back, hands still on their shoulders. “There’s always a home for you here,” he said, voice softer now. “All of you. But for now… you’ve got each other. And that’s enough. That’s everything , as long as you stay together.”

Vi reached out, her fingers curling gently around Powder’s.

“Always.”

Powder’s grip tightened. “Always.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

It never failed to take Vi’s breath away how quickly an entire planet could shrink to nothing more than a distant marble. Zaun, green and glowing, was already fading into the velvet-black void behind them. God, she’d missed this. The freedom of space. The quiet hum of the engines. The ache in her chest easing the moment gravity gave up. Space wasn’t just an escape, it was an addiction, and Vi had no desire to get clean.

She leaned back in the pilot’s chair, cracking her neck, a grin playing on her lips. “Vik, you settling back into the ship alright?”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor replied over the intercom, his voice crisp and metallic. “Though I must admit… I now feel disproportionately large.”

“Aww, don’t worry, Vik!” Powder chirped from across the deck, swinging her legs up onto a console. “You’re still a little cutie!”

“If I possessed the physiological capacity,” Viktor replied dryly, “I would be blushing.”

 “Focus, Vik,” Vi said, fingers dancing over the navigation console. “We clear to make a skip to Piltover?”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor responded smoothly over the comms. “All systems are stable and operating within optimal parameters. Skip path to Piltover has been plotted. Initiate when ready.”

Vi sank into her chair with a low sigh, pressing the button on the overhead panel. “All crew, prepare for skipspace entry. Strap in, shut up, and try not to puke.”

One by one, the crew filtered into the cockpit, each dropping into their usual spots. Powder was already humming, flipping switches. Ekko buckled in behind her with a groan. Isha took her spot next to him. Jayce grumbled about neck support. Viktor’s light flickered on the console as his systems synced.

And Caitlyn.

Caitlyn stepped forward and took her seat in the co-pilot chair. No hesitation. No glances exchanged.

Not like last time.

Vi didn’t so much as blink. After everything they’d just been through— the crash, Jericho, Deckard—Caitlyn had earned her place. Anywhere she wanted.

Vi cracked her knuckles, glanced at the glowing skip beacon on the console, and muttered, “Alright, Cupcake. Let’s get you home.”

There was a breathless stillness, those few suspended seconds before the jump. Silence gripped the cockpit like it always did, right before the universe folded in on itself.

Then came the jolt.

Everyone was slammed back in their seats. Ekko let out a sharp grunt, teeth clenched through the pressure. Powder whooped like a lunatic, the sound distorted by the warping around them.

And then reality snapped back. Skipspace spit them out in a flash of light and static, and the galaxy came screaming into view.

Before them, framed in the viewport like a painting: the crown jewel of all of Runeterra.

Piltover.

Even from orbit, it shimmered, spires of gold and glass glittering under the weight of its own importance. The capital. The beating heart of the galaxy.

Home, for some, a cruel reminder for others.

Vi leaned forward slightly, exhaling through her nose. “Well,” she muttered, “here we are.”

“Star Cruiser Gauntlet, you are entering Piltovian orbit. Please stand by for a routine cargo scan before atmospheric descent,” a bored voice crackled through comms.

Vi rolled her eyes and clicked on the comm. “Affirmative, Piltie Patrol. Just do me a favor? Don’t linger too long in our engineer’s private quarters. He’s got some... questionable cartridges stashed in his locker.”

“ Dude! ” Jayce groaned from the back, leaning his head back into his seat.

A long, dead silence followed.  “...Scan complete. Proceed to the surface. Welcome to Piltover.”

Vi smirked and leaned back in her seat. “Tough crowd.”

As the Gauntlet dipped through Piltover’s upper atmosphere, its hull humming from the resistance of reentry, Vi pulled out her datapad and began typing out a message that, had things gone to plan, she would’ve been able to send days ago.

“Coming up on the coordinates now. ETA ten minutes.”

She paused.

Her eyes flicked to Caitlyn, focused, calm, silhouetted by the evening glow of Piltover outside, and she suddenly felt the need to add one more line. 

“Bring her a honeyfruit soda.” 

She hit send, and smiled ever so slightly to herself.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The hydraulics hissed as The Gauntlet’s ramp descended onto the landing pad. Heat shimmered off the steel below as the crew stepped out one by one, blinking into the late afternoon sun of Piltover.

At the foot of the pad, a hooded figure stood waiting, arms crossed, posture regal even in anonymity.

But there was no time for mystery.

“Mel!” Caitlyn broke into a run, her boots clanging down the ramp as she flung her arms around the woman.

The figure pulled back her hood, revealing Mel Medarda, her expression softening just enough as she closed her eyes and returned the embrace. “I'm glad you’re alright, Caitlyn.” Then, as if catching herself, her voice hardened. “Maybe next time, you'll actually listen when I tell you not to go off-world without a security detail.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, grinning. “It was a one-off incident.”

Mel sighed through her nose. “How can someone so brilliant be so…”

“Fearless? Adventurous?”

“I was going to say careless .”

“Hmm.” Caitlyn smirked. “I like my version better.”

“Of course you do.” Mel shook her head. She reached into her coat and pulled out a bottle. “Here. Heard you might want this.”

Caitlyn froze. “Honeyfruit soda?” Her voice cracked faintly.

Mel gave a small smile. “Thank your mercenary. She told me to bring it.”

Caitlyn turned to glance at Vi, who only offered a shrug from where she stood near the ramp.

Mel followed Caitlyn’s gaze, then stepped past her toward the ramp.

“Damn,” Jayce whispered under his breath, watching her approach. Vi elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Down, boy.”

Mel stopped in front of them, regarding Vi with calm scrutiny. “Captain Lanes, I understand things got... out of hand. Had I been more forthright about who I was hiring you to retrieve, you might’ve been better prepared. That’s on me.”

“I had it handled,” Jayce cut in with a confident grin.

Mel turned to him. “And who might you be?”

“Jayce Talis,” he said smoothly, straightening up. “Engineer. Second in command.”

“Since fucking when?” Powder muttered.

Jayce didn’t look at her. “It’s a flexible title.”

Mel’s lips twitched. She let her gaze trace up his frame with frank interest. “Well, I suppose I can see why this crew is still standing.”

Ekko coughed. “That would actually be thanks to the floating orb with a death ray.”

Mel arched a brow.

Vi sighed. “It’s been an interesting few days.”

Mel laughed lightly, brushing a bit of wind-tossed hair behind her ear. “So I’ve gathered. Again, I apologize for any complications that my… deception may have caused.” She extended her hand to Vi. 

Vi took the hand and shook it. “Could’ve saved yourself some credits and trouble if you’d just sent Enforcers.”

Mel inclined her head. “Discretion was the goal. And besides, it seems I gambled well. Please, accept an additional five thousand credits for the… complications .”

Vi gave a curt nod. “I’ll never say no to not operating at a loss.”

Mel’s expression turned cautious. “Discretion… brings me to my next point. Caitlyn, I tried… I did everything I could, but–”

“CAITLYN KIRAMMAN!” a voice bellowed across the landing pad, cutting Mel off like a blade through silk.

Cassandra’s voice rang across the landing pad like the crack of a whip, silencing every bystander and crew member alike.

Caitlyn shut her eyes.

As if maybe, just maybe , the sheer force of her will could erase the sound of that voice.

No such luck.

She turned, slowly. Bracing.

There she was, Cassandra Kiramman, in full regalia. An ivory coat snapped in the breeze like a war banner, her heels clicking across the tarmac like gunfire. Two Enforcer guards flanked her in silent lockstep, but it was her eyes that did the damage. Cold. Regal. Sharp enough to peel armor.

Caitlyn forced a smile so brittle it could have cut glass. “Hi, Mother. I was just—”

“Just what ?” Cassandra’s tone cracked like a whip as she advanced. “Just lying to me? Just dragging Ms. Medarda into more of your childish antics? Just getting kidnapped by pirates?” She turned her fury to the gathered crowd. “ Kidnapped , Caitlyn. Have you lost your mind?”

Caitlyn flinched. But she didn’t fold.

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” she said firmly. “Not exactly—”

“Oh, not exactly !” Cassandra threw up a hand in mock understanding. “You vanish without a word, let your guards report you missing, leave me, your mother , scrambling to launch a recovery effort, and now you stroll back into orbit as though this has all been some charming field trip?”

Mel stepped in, voice measured. “Chairwoman, if I may—”

“No, you may not , Ms. Medarda.” Cassandra didn’t even look at her. “You enabled this nonsense.”

“That’s not fair!” Caitlyn snapped, stepping forward. “This was my decision. If you’re going to blame someone, blame me. ”

“Oh, Caitlyn, make no mistake.” Cassandra’s voice chilled several degrees. “I do.”

Then Cassandra’s gaze shifted.

And the temperature dropped further.

“You.” Her heels struck the tarmac with deliberate precision as she closed in on Vi. “Mercenary.”

Vi tilted her head, arms folding across her chest with a calm that was anything but passive. “Well. Hello to you too.”

“I suppose,” Cassandra said coolly, “I have you to thank for the safe return of my daughter.”

She extended a hand.

Vi looked at it. Then at her. Then at Mel.

“Probably best to start with the one who actually paid me to do it.”

The way Vi left Cassandra’s hand hovering in the air… untouched, unacknowledged, it made something flicker behind the Chairwoman’s eyes. Amusement, maybe. 

“Oh,” Cassandra said, a dry smirk curling at the edges of her mouth. “Caitlyn likes you, doesn’t she?”

“Mother!” Caitlyn snapped, horrified.

Vi blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Cassandra said, with a casual flick of her wrist. “I know my daughter. She’s always been drawn to this whole…” her hand swept vaguely toward Vi, “… gritty, rogue persona. Makes her feel like she’s living some grand adventure .” Her tone was dripping with mockery.

Vi’s jaw flexed, but her voice stayed steady. “Your daughter held her own out there. Better than most I’ve fought beside. You might wanna stop talking to her like she’s still a kid.”

Cassandra tilted her head, voice clipped and cold. “And perhaps she’ll stop being treated like a child… when she stops acting like one.” Her sharp gaze returned to Caitlyn. “Come along. Leave Ms. Medarda to her business with these mercenaries. You and I have a great deal to discuss.”

She turned on her heel, not bothering to look back. No need—Cassandra Kiramman had spent her entire life assuming people would fall in line.

And for a second, Caitlyn almost did.

But then she glanced down at the bottle of honeyfruit soda. A silly, small thing, but it meant the world to her. And the captain knew that it did. Her eyes found Vi, worn down, dust-streaked, bruised, but alive. The woman who had saved her as many times as she’d been saved by her. 

Before she could overthink it, second guess it, Caitlyn turned and ran. Straight into her.

Vi blinked in surprise as Caitlyn wrapped her arms around her, holding tight. She stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard, unsure of exactly how to handle this, before her hands slowly rose and returned the embrace. She breathed her in, and felt the tension in her shoulders ease just a little.

“Thank you, Violet,” Caitlyn whispered, barely audible. “For everything.”

Vi’s grip tightened, just slightly. Then she pulled back, offering a small smile.

“You’d make a hell of a merc, you know that?”

Caitlyn let out a breath of laughter. “Oh, I don’t know if—”

“Caitlyn!” Her mother’s voice rang across the landing pad.

Caitlyn closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. But when she opened them again, Vi was still looking at her with that same quiet, maddeningly fond smile.

“See you around, Cupcake.” she said softly.

Caitlyn hesitated, one last heartbeat… then turned and walked back toward her mother, the imprint of Vi’s arms somehow still wrapped around her.

Vi watched her go, brows furrowed, arms crossed, the rest of the world fading into a blur.

Mel was still speaking beside her, wrapping up the last formalities of their arrangement, but Vi barely heard a word. She let Jayce take the spotlight. He was all too happy to soak in Mel’s attention, the sound of her polished laugh floating through the air.

But Vi’s focus stayed locked on the doctor.

Caitlyn walked with purpose, but her steps slowed near the edge of the pad. She turned, just once, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

Vi raised a hand in a short wave. Caitlyn returned it—small, almost hesitant. Then she disappeared behind doors of ivory and gold.

Vi let her arm drop slowly to her side, and with it, exhaled a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

“Captain Lanes?”

Mel’s voice cut clean through the haze in her head. Vi blinked and turned, pulled back into the moment.

“Yeah. Sorry,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair. “Just… trying to figure out what comes next.”

Mel nodded, her expression softer than usual, almost knowing. “I’ve transferred the agreed-upon bonus to your account,” she said. “And I’ll be sure to pass your name along to a few colleagues. 

Vi barely nodded, her eyes still fixed on the space where Caitlyn had vanished. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Mel followed her gaze. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, with a gentleness Vi didn’t expect, she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You did well, Captain,” she said. “She’s safe. And I’ll make sure that doesn’t change.”

Vi watched her for a moment. There was sincerity in her voice. Steel, too. It seemed that Mel Medarda didn’t make promises lightly.

Vi nodded once, slowly. “See that you do.”

Mel offered one last smile to Jayce before disappearing through the same doors Caitlyn and her mother had gone through.

Jayce let out a low whistle. “What a woman…”

Vi smirked, arms crossed. “Easy, lover boy.”

He shrugged with zero shame. “Don’t hate just because I’m a closer and you’re not.”

Vi arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

Jayce held up his datapad, the screen still glowing. “I may have… gotten her personal comm ID.”

Vi slow-clapped. “Bravo. And what exactly do you mean when you say I’m not?”

Jayce’s grin widened. “I mean, I just watched you let that woman walk away. No comm ID. No follow-through. Nothing.”

“Oh, please. It’s absolutely not like that.”

“Captain,” Viktor interjected flatly, hovering nearby, “your vital signs have fluctuated significantly in the last ten minutes. Are you experiencing emotional distress?”

Vi closed her eyes. “Not the time, Vik.”

Jayce tried, and failed, to hide his smirk. “Not like that, huh?”

Before Vi could launch into her rebuttal, Powder stepped between them, arms dramatically outstretched.

“As fun as this gag-fest is, can we please do literally anything else?”

Vi snorted. “I suppose you’ve got a better idea?”

Powder planted her hands on her hips. “We’re in the biggest city in the galaxy with five thousand credits in our pocket. Trust me, the ideas will come to us.”

Chapter Text

“Caitlyn, are you even listening to me? Caitlyn! ”

Her mother’s voice dragged her back like a claw. For most of the lecture, Caitlyn had been content to drown it out, giving her attention instead to the now empty bottle of honeyfruit soda. Her fingers had traced its grooves, peeled at the label until nothing was left but glass.

Reluctantly, she looked up at Cassandra, who had been pacing the living room of their penthouse for the past two hours as she spoke. “Yes, Mother. It was reckless and foolish, and next time I won’t be so lucky.” Caitlyn sighed.

Cassandra pursed her lips. “Why do you insist on worrying me sick?”

Caitlyn set the bottle down and folded her arms across her chest. “Why do you insist on locking me away like some princess in a storybook?”

Her mother scoffed. “Oh, Caitlyn, don’t be dramatic. You have all the freedom you want—”

“Really?” Caitlyn cut in. “Then why is every decision I make followed by an inquisition?”

“You’ll forgive me," Cassandra replied sharply, "if I fail to see the logic in running off to the undeveloped systems without any—”

“Fringe Worlds,” Caitlyn corrected firmly.

Cassandra blinked. “Pardon?”

“They’re not ‘undeveloped.’ They’re Fringe Worlds. ” She repeated adamantly. 

Cassandra raised a brow. “Is that a little lesson in political correctness your new friends taught you?”

Caitlyn didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The look on her face said enough.

Cassandra sighed. “Fine. Fringe Worlds. It doesn’t change the fact that you ran across the galaxy, chasing a cure for a sickness that amounts to nothing more than a scary story.”

Caitlyn recoiled. “ Scary story? Mother, The Tremor has killed entire settlements! Those are your people! How can you say that?”

“ Small settlements,” Cassandra corrected, waving her off. “With no documented method of transmission, no conclusive data. It’s likely a pesticide, or waterborne bacteria.”

“People are still dying! ” Caitlyn snapped. “And whether you're concerned about it or not, I’ve seen it. And it's my job as a doctor to help!”

Cassandra’s expression softened, a flicker of sorrow warming the edges of her voice. “You’re so much like him, you know.”

Caitlyn nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be like him. To help. To do something that actually matters.”

Cassandra inhaled slowly, closing her eyes. “And he would be… so proud of you, Caitlyn. He always was.” She lowered herself onto the couch beside her, not quite touching. “But he’d also be furious. Furious that you put yourself in harm’s way for this.”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. “He was never afraid of danger if it meant helping people.”

“And look what happened to him,” Cassandra said, too quickly, too bitterly.

Caitlyn recoiled. “ Mother! ”

As if realizing her own words, Cassandra’s hand flew to her mouth. “Caitlyn, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” Caitlyn snapped, standing abruptly. “You meant it. You always mean it.”

Her mother reached for her, but Caitlyn was already moving. Her voice shook, but her spine stayed straight.

“I’m not going to stop helping people just because it scares you. And if it kills me? I’d sooner die than become anything like you.”

And then she was gone, out the door, down the hall, leaving Cassandra alone with the echo of what couldn’t be taken back.

Caitlyn stormed through the marble-lined corridors of the residential tower, each step echoing with defiance. She didn’t slow down, didn’t reconsider. She didn't know where she was going tonight, but she knew who she was going with. 

Knock-knock-knock.

She barely had time to lower her hand before the door swung open.

Mel stood framed in the doorway, a glass of wine in one hand and a look of excitement painted across her face.

“We’re going out, aren’t we?”

Caitlyn exhaled, the smallest laugh escaping her chest. “Yes,” she said flatly. “Immediately.”

Mel stepped to the side, reaching for her coat. “Good. You’re buying the first round.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

All across the galaxy, it was understood that tomorrow was never promised. One minute, you were trading stories in a dive bar on Ionia’s third moon, the next, your ship was a lifeless piece of scrap in a Freljord's ice belt. Predictability didn’t exist in all of Runeterra’s far reaches. There were no certainties.

Well, there were two.

Jayce Talis would always have a terrible idea, and Vi Lanes would always be the first to say yes.

Tonight was no exception.

“The Hex Lounge ?” Ekko asked, jaw slack with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

The Hex Lounge. A casino, a resort, a monument to indulgence, and the number one destination for tourists with more credits than caution.

And tonight? The centerpiece of Jayce’s latest terrible idea.

Powder threw an arm around Ekko’s shoulder. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“My sense of adventure doesn’t involve getting my retina scanned in Stillwater,” he muttered.

Jayce shook his head. “I’ve been working on this for like three months now. Everything’s airtight. If nobody screws up, we walk away with enough credits to disappear for a year.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow. “‘If’ is doing some pretty heavy lifting in that sentence.”

Jayce brought a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Ye of little faith!”

“C’mon,” Powder nudged him with a grin, “let’s at least hear Pretty Boy out. Maybe it’s only kinda terrible.”

Jayce nodded eagerly. “Alright, so…” He pulled up a holo-map on his datapad, the screen flickering to life with a detailed layout of The Hex Lounge. It spun slowly in the air between them, glowing with the warm golds and blues the resort was known for.

“This place isn’t just a casino,” he began, gesturing to key sections of the projection. “It’s the casino. Its vaults put some banks to shame. Every night, millions of credits pass through this place. But once a month, they consolidate the house winnings into the central vault before a high-security transport comes to take it off-world.”

“Lemme guess,” Powder cut in, “That one night happens to be—”

“Tonight,” Jayce finished with a smirk.

Vi leaned in. “How do you know all this?”

“I built half this place's locking mechanisms and security measures when I was still with HexTech,” he said, proudly. “Got the specs tucked in my head. And it may also interest you to know, the security updates they ordered were never installed. Too ‘costly.’”

Ekko crossed his arms. “So you’re saying you want to rob the biggest casino in the systems, and the plan hinges on corporate laziness?”

“Exactly!” Jayce beamed. “God, I love how you just get me.”

Vi nodded slowly, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’m in.”

Ekko groaned. “Of course you are.”

Powder held up a hand. “Pretending for a second that we’re gonna do this, how do we get past security?”

Jayce smirked. “I’m glad you asked. That’s where the fun starts…”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

"Fitting,” Mel said with a dry laugh as they stood on the curb outside of the casino, staring up at the gaudy sprawl of neon letters that read THE HEX LOUNGE in blinding blue and gold. “Your mother spends two hours lecturing you about caution, responsibility, and better judgment fit for a doctor of your renown… and your grand rebuttal is to get drunk at a casino.”

Caitlyn smirked, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Well, I can’t be Doctor Kiramman every minute of the day, can I? Especially not after… all that.” Her voice faltered a little, the weight of the earlier argument still clinging to her. She exhaled slowly, eyes flicking up to the sign again as the lights pulsed against the night sky.

Mel studied her for a moment, then smiled, just enough to take the edge off. “Then tonight, you’re not Doctor Kiramman. Tonight, you’re just Caitlyn. And just Caitlyn is allowed to make questionable decisions and order too many drinks.”

And without another word, the two stepped into the casino, swallowed by the soft pulse of music and warm, low lighting. The place was one big sensory overload—lights flashing, bells ringing, roulette wheels spinning, digital card tables blinking with high-stakes tension, drinks glittering in every hand. But Caitlyn followed Mel without hesitation, weaving through the crowd until they found a table tucked into the perfect pocket: far enough from the chaos to hold a proper conversation, close enough for Mel’s favorite pastime, people watching. 

A pair of cocktails, deep violet with a glittering swirl of gold, landed on the table with a clink, delivered by a server who disappeared before either woman could thank them. But Mel barely registered the drinks. Her gaze had drifted elsewhere, sharp and focused. Caitlyn, halfway to her first sip, caught the expression instantly.

“I know that look,” she said, eyes narrowing with amusement. “What stories are you writing in your head this time?”

Mel smirked, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the table as she scanned the crowd. “Hmm. That man by the bar? He’s just gambled away his child’s academy tuition and is now desperately trying to win it back before his wife finds out.”

Caitlyn made a face and sipped her drink. “Depressing.”

Mel shifted her eyes. “That woman, corner booth, red scarf? She’s here under the guise of a business trip, but she's actually meeting her lover. She tells him she’s going to leave her husband every time… and every time she means it a little less.”

“Steamy,” Caitlyn said, laughing behind the rim of her glass.

Mel’s gaze slid to a new corner, then froze. Her eyes flashing with a mixture of recognition and disbelief. “Is that…?”

Caitlyn frowned, leaning forward. “What?”

Mel nodded toward a table in the middle of the casino floor. “Is that Captain Lanes and Mr. Talis?”

Caitlyn turned and, at the sight of the captain, choked on her drink. She coughed, trying to recover the air she’d lost, before sputtering, “It… is.”

Vii was seated at the table, legs kicked up in a display of pure, earned arrogance, Dreadnaught cards in hand. Jayce sat across from her, animated and frustrated, clearly mid-losing streak.

Caitlyn’s eyes stayed locked on the table, staring more and more intently each second. “Dreadnaught…” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “That game ends friendships even when you’re not playing for credits. But here? In a place like this, with real stakes?” She shook her head.  “You only play Dreadnaught with strangers. People you don’t mind pissing off." Her gaze lingered on Vi, relaxed posture, smirking with every card she laid down, and then on Jayce, animated, his face flushed with either excitement or frustration. Maybe both.

“Something feels… off,” she said under her breath.

Mel didn’t respond right away. She just took a long, slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving Caitlyn. When she set the glass down, her smirk had returned. “Hmm. You’re very observant when it comes to Captain Lanes.”

Caitlyn shot her a look, but Mel was already raising the glass for another sip. Knowing, amused, and frustratingly correct.

“So…” Mel began, tone laced with curiosity.

“So what?” Caitlyn replied, eyebrow lifting.

Mel gave her a flat look. “What are you going to say to her?”

Caitlyn blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on.” Mel rolled her eyes. “You’re too brilliant to play dumb. I saw the way you looked at her. And I definitely saw the way she looked at you when you walked away.”

Caitlyn stiffened. “Mel, no. It’s not—”

But before she could finish her protest, a piercing sound cut through the ambient buzz of the casino.

A child’s cry.

The noise turned heads immediately. Guests looked around in confusion, children weren’t exactly common in a place like this. Caitlyn’s head whipped toward the source of the sound, her chest instinctively tight with worry.

And then she saw her.

“Isha?” she whispered, eyes narrowing.

Across the room, the small girl stood alone near the central fountain, tears streaking down her face. A pair of casino security guards were already approaching her, their expressions cautious but kind.

Caitlyn moved quickly, her heels clacking against the polished floor. Isha spotted her. And just before the guards made it to her, she gave Caitlyn a subtle wink, so subtle that most people would’ve probably missed it, but not Caitlyn. Whatever this was, these tears weren’t real. She glanced over at Vi and Jayce again, too focused on their game to care, or at least, it seemed that way. She knelt down, just as one of the guards looked her way. 

“Miss, do you know this child?”

Caitlyn glanced between Isha and the guard, her heart hammering. Isha gave her the slightest head shake. Caitlyn didn’t know what the hell was happening, but she did know one thing. The kid needed her to play along.

“No,” she said slowly. “I’m a doctor. Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt.”

The guard nodded appreciatively and pressed a finger to his comms.  “We’ve got a lost child on the main floor. Please advise.”

Caitlyn straightened, casting a subtle glance back once again at Vi and Jayce who could not be bothered with the cries of their youngest crew member.

A calm voice crackled to life over the casino’s intercom system: “Attention, valued guests: we have a lost child on the main floor. If you are missing your child, please proceed to our guest relations kiosk in the main lobby.”

The security guards gently took Isha by the shoulders, beginning to guide her toward the elevator that led to the lobby. The girl walked for a few steps, head down. Then her breathing quickened. Her eyes darted left, then right. At a glance, it seemed like the young girl was panicking. The truth? She was calculating.

“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” one of the guards said gently. “We just wanna help—”

Too late.

Isha bolted.

She took off at a full sprint, slipping between a pair of confused tourists and vanishing into the crowd like smoke.

“Wait!” the guard called after her, startled. “Stop! We’re trying to help you!”

“Shit, she’s panicking,” the second muttered, already pressing a finger to his comms. “Casino control, we’ve got a runner! Kid bolted mid-escort. Can we get a team mobilized to track and contain? She’s maybe ten, fast, and just ran out onto the main floor.

Caitlyn and Mel exchanged a look, equal parts alarmed and impressed. Things were either going very right, or very wrong.  The two watched as a full security team peeled off in pursuit of Isha, scattering through the casino. Then, just as the scene couldn’t get any more chaotic…

"She’s fucking cheating, dealer! She has to be!"

The outburst cracked like a gunshot through the room. Caitlyn’s head snapped toward the source.

Jayce. Standing, red-faced and fuming, towering over a still-seated Vi, who looked completely unbothered as she leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head.

"Not my fault you’re shit at Dreadnaught, buddy," she said lazily, barely glancing at the pot in front of her. "Sorry for bruising your ego."

“I’ll show you bruised, you motherfucker.”

And then Jayce swung.

Crack

Vi toppled backward in her chair, crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Gasps rippled through the casino. Several patrons stood, frozen in disbelief. Chips scattered. The dealer threw his hands up and backed away from the table.

Caitlyn stood frozen for a heartbeat, eyes locked on the chaos unfolding across the casino floor. Vi launched herself off the ground and tackled Jayce, the two crashing into a velvet rope divider and spilling a shower of poker chips in their wake.

To anyone watching, it looked like a brutal brawl, fists flying, voices raised, raw fury crackling between two hotheads about to tear each other apart.

“God…” Mel muttered, eyes wide, “what’s gotten into those two?”

But Caitlyn didn’t flinch. She watched Vi closely. Watched the way her punches were a touch slower than she’d seen them before. The way Jayce lacked follow through on his punches, just enough to still make contact, but not do any real damage. 

She’d seen The two of them fight back on Zaun. Had watched them tear through Ravagers like a storm. And this? This wasn’t them fighting, this was theatre.

The corners of Caitlyn’s mouth curled into a grin, half impressed, half entertained. It all clicked. Isha’s perfectly timed “panic.” The guards drawn away. The center of the casino descending into chaos.

“Absolutely nothing’s wrong,” she said, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. “They’re putting on one hell of a show.”

Mel’s brow furrowed. “A show for what?” She followed Caitlyn’s gaze as more security pushed through the crowd, trying to get to the fight. Then back to Caitlyn, realization now evident on her face. “You don’t think they’re—”

The lights cut out.

Instant, total darkness.

The music stopped. Machines powered down mid-spin. Gasps erupted through the floor. Panic blooming like wildfire.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but let out a laugh.  “Oh, they absolutely are.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder watched from the far corner, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips as Isha put on a performance worthy of a stage. Tears, trembling lip, the whole damn package.

“I’ve never been more proud of her,” she sighed, practically glowing with affection.

Ekko stifled a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I am officially never falling for her crocodile tears again. Especially not the next time she cries about me not letting her man the Gauntlet’s cannons.”

Powder snorted. “Please. She’s got you wrapped around her finger tighter than a suppressor coil, and you know it.”

Ekko sighed. “Yeah… I really need to work on that.”

She reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. “No you don’t.”

He was about to argue, but then he saw it. The look in her eyes. Something quieter than her usual fire. Something soft. Warm. And just like that, he forgot what he’d even planned to say. Moments like this, they reminded him that no matter how chaotic life got, he was hers, and she was his.

He leaned in, about to steal a kiss, when his eyes snapped upward. Chaos had erupted across the casino floor. Jayce and Vi were in a full-blown “fight,” fists flying, security scrambling. Patrons were gasping, shouting, clearing space like a bomb had gone off.

“That’s our cue,” Ekko muttered, voice sharp again as another security team rushed out from the service corridor.

Powder was already moving. She wedged her foot into the PIN-secured staff door just before it clicked shut, threw him a cocky grin over her shoulder, and slipped inside. Ekko followed without hesitation, the heavy hush of the service corridor swallowing them whole as the door sealed behind them.

The two gave the hologram layout one last glance, committing the winding corridors to memory before slipping deeper into the labyrinth.

“God,” Powder muttered, eyes flicking over the sterile walls and flickering lights, “how do people not get lost in this place?”

“The better question is how we’re not about to get lost,” Ekko grumbled, scanning their path ahead.

“Rest assured, Crewmate Littleman,” a familiar metallic voice crackled softly in his ear, “I will provide real-time navigational assistance as needed to both you and Crewmate Lanes. Precision is one of my many specialties.”

“Thanks, Vik!” Powder chirped, tapping her earpiece with a grin. “You happy to be back in your orb?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI answered, with something that almost sounded like… restraint.

“It is… not unpleasant,” Viktor replied at last.

“Let’s keep moving. Vik, keep us posted if any patrols shift.”

“Of course, Crewmate Littleman. And do try not to die.”

“Yeah, I make it a point not to,” Ekko muttered.

The two crept deeper through the series of corridors, every footstep deliberate, every breath silent. They moved like ghosts, trained, tuned, and tethered to the metallic voice in their ears.

They reached the final bend, just before the vault corridor, when Ekko abruptly threw a hand out in front of her chest, pushing and pinning Powder back against the wall. Her eyes lit up in a mix of not only surprise… but also mischief as she clocked where his hand had landed.

“Here? Now?” She teased quietly. 

He rolled his eyes. “Focus.”

Peeking around the corner, he counted four guards stationed at the vault entrance. No patrol pattern. No shifting. These guys weren’t going anywhere. 

“Viktor,” Ekko whispered. “Four guards posted outside the vault. Looks like they’re not exactly planning on taking a walk. 

“Understood. Initiating internal EMP sequence. Please stand by.” There was a brief pause, then Viktor added, with what might have been excitement, “You’ve provided me a unit with so many new features I’ve yet to discover.”

Ekko chuckled slightly to himself. “Gonna keep pretending that was on purpose.” 

“You will have a sixty second window,” Viktor continued. “Then the auxiliary systems will engage. You must incapacitate the guards, access the vault, secure the payload, and exit before lockdown protocols resume.”

Powder smirked. “Sixty seconds? Ekko, you never need more than thirty.”

“Pow…” Ekko groaned.

She giggled and planted a gentle, teasing kiss to his cheek. 

He exhaled, steadying himself. “Vik, do it.”

“Activating EMP in three… two…”

Darkness.

The hum of the corridor died. The four guards outside the vault spun in all directions, disoriented as their rifles sparked and fizzled out in their hands, useless scrap metal now, thanks to the EMP.

Ekko and Powder moved in a flash. No time for subtlety. Their preferred weapons had reluctantly been swapped out for tranquilizers. Four clean shots. Four necks. Four bodies slumping to the floor in silence.

“Fifty-two seconds,” Ekko called out, already rushing the vault. “Grab and bag.”

The heavy door, now hanging open, revealed towers of credits. Powder practically squealed. Her bag flew open as she shoveled in fistful after fistful, laughing like a kid in a candy store.

“You, me, and Isha,” she beamed, “a whole month on the Ionian beaches. I can smell the saltwater. God, I can taste the dumplings.”

Ekko shook his head, grinning despite himself. In truth, that sounded absolutely perfect. 

“Ten seconds,” Viktor warned calmly in their ears.

Ekko nodded. “We’re done. Time to move.”

He turned, bolting out the vault door.

“Yeah, yeah, right behind you, just one more—”

Rip.

The bag tore wide open. Credits exploded across the floor like confetti.

“Shit!”

“Powder, leave it!” Ekko hissed. “We gotta go, now!”

She scrambled after him, but her boot slipped on a credit, and she went down hard.

“Powder!”

SLAM.

The hydraulics came back to life. Lights flickered on. The vault door sealed shut with a brutal hiss of pressurization. She was gone. Trapped.

Ekko flung himself at the vault, fruitlessly pulling at the door, desperate to get her out, but that door wasn’t moving for anyone or anything. He stared at the metal wall. His chest rose and fell with panicked breaths.

“Powder!” He yelled, panicked, into his earpiece, “Powder can you hear me?”

*kzzzzzt “Ekko?” *kzzzzzt* “breaking—” *kzzzzt* 

Shit. The vault was too dense, the metal and concrete made it almost impossible to get a word through to her.

“Vik! She’s still in there! Can you drop another EMP?”

“This unit is currently operating at minimal energy reserves,” Viktor replied, uncharacteristically grim. “Secondary pulse is not possible.”

Ekko backed away from the sealed door, heart pounding.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. Vi and Jayce were probably being arrested right now. The plan was to bail them out of Stillwater with a fraction of the haul. Skip far away from Piltover, disappear into the depths of space with their fortune, and not look back.

Now?

Now Ekko was scrambling for ideas.

“Powder! Just stay calm, okay? We’ll get you out!”

*kzzzzzt* “Hurry!” *kzzzzzt*

Silence. It was down to him now.

He turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the casino’s main floor, praying Vi and Jayce had wriggled free from security, and that somehow, they'd have a backup plan.

Because right now? They needed a fucking miracle.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The moment the lights snapped back on, Vi braced for it.

She knew the drill. In about five seconds, security would swarm. She and Jayce would get hauled off, probably tossed around a little harder than strictly necessary, standard Stillwater treatment, then thrown in the drunk tank for disturbing the peace. 

Then would come the real test: time.

Powder and Ekko were going to bail them out fast. Fast enough the casino wouldn’t have time to check inventory, fast enough the local authorities wouldn’t flag their IDs, fast enough to vanish before anyone knew they’d been hit.

That was the plan.

Vi just had to hope nothing had gone sideways.

But the second she felt the hands of casino security on her, she couldn't shake the feeling something already had.

“All right, that’s enough! What the hell is going—?” but the man was cut off. 

“Help! Oh my god, help! My bag! That man stole my bag!”

Vi knew that voice. She blinked, turned her head, and nearly laughed.

Caitlyn. Fucking. Kiramman.

The guards looked ready to shrug her off—too much chaos tonight already, and another pickpocket wasn’t their problem.

But then came voice number two, smooth, cutting, unmistakable.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you idiots! Are you going to help our Chairwoman’s daughter or not?”

Correction.

Caitlyn fucking Kiramman and Mel fucking Medarda.

The effect was instantaneous. Security all but shoved Vi and Jayce aside like trash.

“Get the hell out of here,” one of them barked.

They didn’t need to be told twice as they hurriedly backed away.

The security team rushed to the two theatrically distraught women. 

“Ms. Kiramman—ah, Dr. Kiramman—I’m so sorry! Which way did the thief go?”

Tears in her eyes, voice shaking, Caitlyn pointed toward the exit. “He… he ran toward Kiramman Plaza. Tall, shaggy dark hair. Blue eyes. Please… please help.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor! We’re on it! Let’s move!”

And just like that, they were gone, charging into the night on a wild drüvask chase.

Vi turned to Jayce, both of them stunned, then back to Caitlyn and Mel. She blinked once. Twice. 

The two women approached with twin expressions of smug satisfaction.

“No hesitation getting yourselves back into trouble, I see,” Caitlyn teased.

Vi blinked, half in disbelief, half in awe. “Cait... what the hell are—why did you…” She trailed off, shaking her head like she could rattle the logic back in. “You two need to get out of here. Now.”

Mel raised an eyebrow, her hands resting on her hips. “Well, that’s a charming thank-you. Truly heartfelt.”

Before Vi could muster a proper response, Jayce cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“Excuse my captain,” he said smoothly, nudging Vi out of the way. “She’s not quite as gifted at speaking with beautiful women as, say… yours truly.” He took Mel’s hand and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles with dramatic flair.

Mel let out an amused hum.  “Captain Lanes, take note of your second-in-command.”

“For the love of… He’s not my—” Vi began, but was abruptly cut off by a panicked voice.

“Vi!”

Her head turned toward it. Ekko was sprinting toward her, breathless—and alone.

Her stomach dropped.

“Shit,” he breathed heavily. “Thank god you guys are still here.”

“Where’s Powder, Ekko?” Vi pressed.

His eyes were wide. “She’s still in the vault. She slipped on the way out and the door sealed before she could make it out. I tried, Vi. Vik’s drained. He can’t do another EMP, and I can’t get the damn thing open.”

Vi ran both hands through her hair, tugging slightly at the roots. “Fuck!” she hissed, pacing back and forth like she was trying to outrun the rising panic. “Okay. Okay, there’s gotta be something. We’re looking for some kind of failsafe, right? A killswitch, safety override, anything that pops a door in case of emergency.” Her eyes snapped to Jayce. “Please, tell me you’ve got something.”

Jayce’s brow furrowed, gears visibly turning as he rifled through every Hextech schematic he'd ever worked on. Then, Vi could see it, the moment something hit him.

His eyes widened. “The fire suppression system…”

“What?” Ekko jumped in, already latching on to the thread of hope.

Jayce’s voice sharpened with clarity now. “The fire suppression system. Most vaults like this are required by code to have internal hazard protocols. If we can trigger the system from the control room, it’ll activate a fire response inside the vault.”

Vi's eyes narrowed. “And that’ll open it?”

“Once the system runs its course,” Jayce nodded, “the auto-locks disengage to allow emergency teams access. It’ll coat the vault with suppressant foam first, which is absolutely gonna suck for Powder, but when it’s done, the mag-locks should cycle down. We can pull the vault open manually after that.”

Vi closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and nodded once. The panic was there, but buried under instinct. She pulled her communicator from her belt,  “Vik, I need a route. Fastest way from the main floor to the control room.”

The response came a second later, calm and clinical, crackling to the group through the speaker.  “Routing now, Captain. You will need to pass two security checkpoints. Recommending north stairwell to service corridor D. This will be a direct route to the central control room.”

Vi nodded again. “Alright. Jayce, you’re with me. Ekko, get back to the vault. We’ll let you know the second it’s ready to open.”

“Oh, he’ll know,” Jayce said with a half-grin, already moving to her side.

“We’re with you,” Caitlyn said, voice steady.

Mel blinked. “We are?” But one look at Caitlyn’s face, and the determination all over it, was all it took. Mel sighed, smoothing her coat. “Right. We are.”

Vi shook her head. “Listen. You two bailed us out with the whole ‘stolen purse’ play, and I appreciate it, really. But this is different. This is way too—”

“You heard Viktor,” Caitlyn cut her off. “Two security checkpoints between here and the control room. The names Kiramman and Medarada will get you anywhere you need to go.” She stepped closer, eyes locked on Vi’s. “So, what’s it going to be, Captain? Do you want our help, or do you want to find out how much worse this can get on your own?”

Vi stared at her for a moment. This woman was ridiculous. Absolutely out of her depth. Stubborn to the point of madness.

And yet, she couldn’t stop the slightest smile fighting to break through like sunlight cutting through storm clouds.

“Alright, Cupcake,” she said with a quiet laugh. “We try this your way.” 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder’s hands were raw, her ankle throbbed with every movement, and her lungs burned like fire. She’d torn apart every inch of the vault, clawed at seams in the paneling, pounded on the door until her fists went numb, hell, even tried to kick it once, hence the throbbing ankle, but there was nothing. No override. No manual release. No weak point to exploit.

She was fucked.

Her breath hitched, the panic rising again, threatening to spiral. But she forced herself to sit, leaning against one of the cold steel racks, clutching the strap of her ripped bag like it might ground her. In the silence, she clung to the one lifeline she had left, the memory of Ekko’s voice through the static.

*"Stay calm—" *kzzzzzt* "—get you out."

The transmission had barely come through. But it was enough.

They’d come for her. They always did. Vi. Ekko. Jayce. They were the kind of people who didn’t stop fighting.

So for now… all she had to do was breathe.

The plan had been perfect, everyone had played their part flawlessly. Isha had half a dozen rent-a-cops chasing her around the city. Vi and Jayce? A full-blown brawl with enough volume and fists to keep every eye turned their way. Viktor had fried the entire grid, leaving security in the dark. Every step had gone exactly as planned.

And then there was her.

Her. And the bag. The stupid, cheap fucking bag.

Powder stared at the credits scattered across the vault floor, the guts of a dying score, and at the shredded strap still clenched between her fists. Her pulse roared in her ears.

And then it came… The voice she’d almost forgotten the sound of until just a few days ago. A ghost, seeping through the cracks in her armor.

"You’re a jinx, Powder. Plain and simple."

Her breath caught. Jinx. The word wasn’t just in her head, it was etched into her bones. It always would be.

She could see it clear as day: Sarah’s cold eyes fixed on her, voice colder. Vi crying out, clutching her side in agony as Jayce and Ekko tried to stop the bleeding. The job had gone sideways. There had been bad intel, a double-crossing contact… and who’d brought it in?

Powder.

"The sooner you accept it and stay out of the way, the sooner you stop being a danger to this crew… to your sister."

Powder’s jaw locked, her whole body trembling under the weight of it. Shame. Rage. Guilt. All of it, bubbling just under the surface.

“You’re going to get her killed someday, Powder. If you love her, you need to do what’s best for her. You need to leave.”

With a choked cry, she hurled the bag against the far wall. It hit with a dull thud, and the last of the credits spilled out, as if mocking her.

“Fuck this bag,” she hissed, then spun to kick the nearest stack of credits, sending them scattering. “Fuck this vault.” Then softer, shakier… “And fuck Sarah Fortune.”

She collapsed to the floor, back hitting cold steel, her whole body trembling. Chest heaving. Eyes brimming with tears that Sarah had no goddamn right to bring out of her.

The plan had been perfect. Every move. Every second. Dialed in like clockwork.

But here she was, the one stuck behind the door, alone and trapped.

A mistake.

A weight.

A jinx.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The door to the control room swung open with the kind of righteous authority only daughters of the galaxy’s most powerful bureaucrats could command. No questions, no hesitation. When you were the daughter of Chairwoman Cassandra Kiramman or Noxian Councillor Ambessa Medarda, you didn’t ask to enter rooms, you simply belonged in them.

“Excuse me!” one of the technicians barked, eyes wide. “This area is restricted to authorized personnel—”

“And what a stellar job your authorized personnel have done,” Mel snapped, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “A missing child, a blackout, and a brawl on the main floor like this is a saloon on Bilge. Truly, a masterclass in crisis management.”

“I beg your pardon? Just who do you think you—”

“I am the daughter of Councilor Medarda,” she said coolly, “accompanied by the daughter of our Chairwoman herself, and our...” she gave a dismissive glance to Vi and Jayce, “assistants."

Vi and Jayce exchanged the briefest of glances. Jayce mouthed the word “assistant?” Vi promptly widened her eyes, as if to say “shut up and go with it.”

“You will address us with the respect we are owed, or the report heading to the Council about tonight’s disaster will list each of you by name and ID number,” Mel continued.

The lead technician froze, eyes darting between Caitlyn and Mel, suddenly very aware of how far he had just overstepped.

“I—I apologize, ma’am. Of course. Whatever you need.”

“What I need,” Mel said icily, “is for every last one of you to leave this room so we can begin documenting for our report in peace.  And should I have to so much as glance at any of you again...”

“Of course, ma’am. Right away.” He gave a frantic nod, signaling to the others. They scrambled out of the room like their jobs depended on it, which, in reality, they did.

Caitlyn, unable to help herself, snapped at the final technician on his way out. “Door!”

That last technician flinched, then doubled back and gently, obediently, shut the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the transformation was instant.

The icy command vanished from their faces, replaced by breathless laughter and wide-eyed grins.

“Oh my god, you were terrifying!” Caitlyn gasped, hands over her mouth.

Mel giggled, fanning herself with exaggerated flair. “And you? That little ‘Door!’ at the end? Caitlyn, that was vicious!”

“I couldn’t help it!” Caitlyn laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t even plan to say it, it just came out!”

Vi exhaled sharply, still processing the last few minutes. It had been an impressive act from both of them But she didn’t have time to share in their amusement. None of it mattered if they didn’t get Powder out.

“Jayce,” she said, voice tight. “Get to work.”

He was already moving, rushing to the control panel, fingers flying over keys and switches. His eyes darted across lines of data, schematics, and submenus on every screen.

“C’mon… c’mon… There you are.” His voice lit up with a breath of relief. “Found the suppression system!”

Vi pulled out her communicator, slipping the earpiece in with a snap. “Ekko, we’re about to trigger it. You in position?”

“Ready! Just tell me when.”

Vi met Jayce’s eyes, gave a curt nod. “Do it.”

His hand slammed down on the control.

Alarms began to ring.

Lights turned red.

And across the casino, a girl sat on the cold, metal floor of the vault, very upset, very scared, and about to be very, very… foamy. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder took a long, shaky breath. Falling apart wasn’t going to get her out of this vault. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her sleeve, steeling herself. She refused to let this situation get any worse.

As if the universe was mocking her resolve, the vault lights suddenly flashed red, painting the room in an ominous glow. Then came the blaring alarm, deafening and oppressive. 

“Oh, what the fu—”

A high-pressure blast of foam cut her off mid-sentence, slamming into her from every direction. Cold, wet, suffocating. In seconds, she was drenched head to toe, surrounded by a layer of thick, white foam.

She sputtered, coughing as she tried to clear her face. “ Son of a bitch! ”

Her voice echoed in the frothy tomb.

And then came the metallic groan. A crack of light sliced through the vault, widening slowly, spilling across the foam-soaked chaos.

A grunt. Familiar. Strained.

Then, finally, the door lurched open wide enough to reveal him… Ekko. Her Ekko. He stood there over the still unconscious security guards, framed in the light, staring at her with relief and just a hint of exasperated amusement.

“Well,” he said, one eyebrow raised, “that’s definitely a look.”

Powder didn’t even bother with a comeback. She didn’t have it in her. She launched herself out of the vault and into him, arms around his neck, clinging to him like her life depended on it. She held him tight, tighter than she probably needed to. Her eyes squeezed shut. No tears, not now, not here.

“Hey…” he murmured, holding her just as tightly, grounding her. “You’re okay. A little cold and wet… but okay.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, then tapped his earpiece. “Vi, I’ve got her. She’s a little shaken up, but she'll be alright.”

A sigh crackled through the comm. “Great goddamn work, Ekko. Vik, we gotta go. Get back to The Gauntlet and get us ready for a quick exit.”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor responded.

She stayed there another second, just long enough to breathe him in one more time. Then she pulled back, bringing herself back to the present.

“How fucked are we?” she asked, voice low.

Ekko shrugged, half-grin in place. “Could be worse. We don’t have to bail Vi or Jayce out of Stillwater, so that saves us a few credits.”

She scoffed, glancing back toward the foam-covered disaster. “Yeah, really balances the scales.”

“Hey.” His voice softened, but there was firmness beneath it. “I’d rather carry you out than a second bag of credits. Every single time.”

She smiled. Or tried to. It didn’t quite make it to her eyes. She knew what he meant. She did. But god, why couldn’t they ever just have both?

Why did it always feel like she was the price?

“Come on,” he said softly, reaching out. “Let’s get back to the others.”

She hesitated for a beat, then slipped her hand into his. His fingers closed around hers, steady and sure, and he led her out, back through the halls, back toward the chaos, back to where Vi and Jayce were waiting.

Back to the crew.

Back to home.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi stood just outside of the casino, arms crossed tightly over her chest, one finger tapping restlessly against her bicep. Her jaw clenched and her eyes scanned the flood of guests spilling out into the night, fire alarms blaring behind them. It was chaos, the perfect cover.

But she wasn’t focused on the crowd, she was focused on finding them. They should be out here any second, but every second that went by meant more time for Enforcers to show up. Casino security was easy enough to handle, but Enforcers? Well, Vi would always avoid dealing with Enforces whenever she could. 

There. Emerging from the haze of evacuees, soaked, limping slightly, and still dusted with foam…

“Pow…” Vi exhaled, her shoulders slumping in relief as she watched the two of them finally leave the casino.

Powder didn’t say anything at first. She just walked straight into Vi’s arms and buried herself there.

Vi wrapped her up instantly, tucking her chin over her sister’s damp hair. “Pow… hey. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m just…” Powder stammered, her voice raw and cracking. “I’m just really sorry, Vi.”

Vi held her tighter, concern washing over her. “Sorry for what?”

But before the answer could come, a voice cut through the crowd like a blade.

“Hey! That’s them! It was those two!” A man’s shout rang out, accusing and loud. “ Stop them! ”

He was pointing. Right at Powder and Ekko.

“Friends of yours?” Vi muttered.

Ekko glanced back. “These are the guys we tranq’d. Guess the nap was a little bit short.”

Vi groaned. “Remind me to strangle Huck for selling us that off-brand shit.”

“Nobody move!” one of the guards barked, closing in with the three others, weapons raised. “You’re all in our custody until the Enforcers arrive!”

Vi’s eyes flicked to the rifles. Dead. EMP-killed, just like Viktor promised. “Pretty sure those things are supposed to glow if they work, dumbass,” she said dryly.

The guards looked down at their disabled weapons, and faltered.

One of the guards lifted his chin. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not going anywh—”

“Run! ” Vi barked, already breaking into a sprint.

The crew burst into action, feet pounding, ducking into alleys, cutting through crowds and side streets. Powder stayed tight to Vi’s side, Vi pulled her forward every time she lagged because of her ankle. Mel cursed under her breath as she ran, heels be damned. Caitlyn didn’t say a word, just kept pace.

“Vik! ” Vi shouted into her communicator between gasps. “We’re coming in hot. Tell me the ship’s ready. Tell me the kid’s on board.”

“Affirmative, Captain Lanes,” Viktor’s voice replied coolly. “The Gauntlet is primed for liftoff. The child is on board and currently attempting to commandeer the captain’s chair.”

Vi huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

Finally, the crew burst out onto the landing platform, breathless and wide-eyed. There, waiting like a patron saint of messy getaways, was The Gauntlet, her engines humming low, warm, and ready.

“Vik! Lower the ramp! ” Vi barked into her communicator.

No answer. Just the metallic hiss as the ramp began to descend.

Vi skidded to a stop at the bottom and turned, motioning the others to board.

“Go! Go!”

Powder was first, hauling herself up without looking back. Ekko was right behind, then Jayce, who slapped Vi’s shoulder as if to say “we did it!”

Vi scanned the dark landing pad. No Caitlyn. No Mel.

“Shit…” she muttered.

Figures. Heels probably slowed them down, and it wasn't like the Enforcers were gonna arrest them. The daughters of two of the most powerful women in the galaxy? She chuckled to herself, breath fogging in the cool night air. Yeah, right. At worst they’d be scolded and chauffeured home.

She turned to climb aboard when—

“Stop right there!”

The voice cut sharply through the night. Vi turned slowly, shoulders squaring, ready for whatever poor idiot thought they had the upper hand.

And there she was.

Not a casino rent-a-cop. An Enforcer, maybe 5’2”, aiming a rifle straight at Vi. That was a regulation-issue, anti-matter pulse rifle. And it was very much powered.

The woman’s bobbed, red hair was neatly groomed, her uniform crisp, freckles dotting an otherwise very stern expression, Vi knew what a young, bright eyed, clean look like this meant on an Enforcer. A junior officer.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Vi slowly brought her communicator to her lips. "Vik, tell everyone to sit tight, I'll be up in just a sec."

"Understood, Captain. Do try not to kill the Enforcer." His voice crackled through the communicator. She laughed softly and slipped it back into her jacket pocket.

She tilted her head, unimpressed. “Bit short for the Piltie Patrol, aren’t we, Tiny?”

The rifle didn’t so much as twitch. “You may refer to me as Junior Officer Nolen,” the Enforcer snapped.

Vi smirked, arms folded lazily. “Mmm. Nah. I like Tiny.”

“Down the ramp. Now! ” Nolen barked.

Vi was piecing together how many steps it would take for her to be close enough to knock the rifle out of this nasty little terrier’s hands, but then—movement in the darkness, just past the Enforcer’s shoulder. Not backup. No standard-issue armor. Silk coats and heels… Caitlyn and Mel.

Vi’s smirk widened just a fraction. “Alright, Tiny. Whatever you say.”

She walked slowly, purposefully, down the ramp, dragging it out. Her eyes subtly flicking to the two women flanking behind Nolen, closing in with each gentle step. Whatever they were planning, if they were planning anything at all, Vi was honestly a little curious to see how it was gonna unfold.

As she reached the base of the ramp, Nolen wasted no time. She turned Vi roughly and shoved her down to the ground, then pressing a knee into her back as she reached for the cuffs.

“ Woah. Easy, Tiny,” Vi muttered with a grin against the tarmac. “Usually a lady buys me dinner first.”

“Shut up,” Nolen snapped, yanking Vi’s arms behind her with unnecessary force, bringing her handcuffs to Vi's wrists.

“Okay, cuffs,” Vi continued, tone infuriatingly casual. “Kinky, I like it. Tried this once with a girl on Demacia… she had a whole collection of—”

“Shut. Up. ” Nolen growled, tightening the cuffs enough to dig into her skin. “You’ll be processed at Stillwater Prison,” she began. “Any question you refuse to answer will be interpreted as an admission of guilt. Any sudden movement will result in— hey, what the hell are you— ”

ZZZZZT.

A surge of electricity crackled in the air, followed by a strangled gasp and a distinct thud.

Vi craned her neck to see Nolen face-down on the tarmac.

Above her was Caitlyn, standing over the unconscious body, holding the Enforcer’s own stun baton in a trembling hand. Her eyes were wide—part shock, part adrenaline, part oh-god-what-have-I-just-done.

Beside her, Mel stood frozen, mouth parted in stunned disbelief.

“Holy shit…” Caitlyn whispered, eyes wide. “Holy shit. I just—I mean we just—I just tased an Enforcer. I just tased an officer of the law. ”

Vi, still on her stomach, shrugged. “Well, junior officer of the law. Let’s not oversell it.” She glanced back at her cuffed hands, then up at Caitlyn and Mel. “Listen, I know this is probably a really formative moment for you, but if you could…?” She shook her wrists with a dry rattle of metal.

Caitlyn blinked, snapping out of it. “Right… right, of course.” She and Mel dropped to their knees beside the unconscious officer, patting down her uniform in a frantic but surprisingly efficient search.

“Jacket pocket—no, wait, back belt—aha!” Caitlyn held up a small ring of keys in victory. “Found you!”

Click.

The cuffs popped open, clattering to the ground. Vi immediately rolled her shoulders and rubbed her wrists, wincing slightly.

“Oh, that’s better,” she muttered as she pushed herself up. Then, looking at the unlikely pair of women in front of her who had once again saved her ass, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself. 

“And so the Diplomacy Duo strikes again,” Vi muttered as she stood, rubbing her wrists. “Guess I owe you one… or two.”

“Three, if we’re counting getting you into the control room,” Mel said with a smirk.

Vi nodded. “Right, right. Well, put it on my tab.”

Mel raised an eyebrow. “You pay your tabs?”

Vi grinned. “You got me.”

Her smile softened as she looked at Caitlyn, still staring down at the unconscious Enforcer like the weight of what she’d just done had hit all at once.

Vi stepped in close, lowering her voice. She gently laid a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder. 

“Hey.” That single word pulled Caitlyn’s eyes to hers. “You did good,” Vi said. “Again. You did good, again. ”

Caitlyn let out a shaky laugh, some blend of pride and disbelief. “Finally something I wish I wasn’t so good at.”

Vi chuckled quietly. “Yeah, well… to be gifted is to be cursed, right?”

Caitlyn blinked. “Who said that?”

Vi shrugged. “Me, just now, I guess.”

Caitlyn’s smile lingered for half a second before her gaze dropped again to the body at their feet.

“You’ll be alright,” Vi said, squeezing her shoulder. “Both of you will. I mean, your moms? Come on. They can get you guys out of anything. ”

Caitlyn nodded. It was true. This would be buried before morning,  purged from every record like it never happened.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pay for it in every other way.

Vi gave one final squeeze, and stepped back. “Be good, Cupcake.” Then, glancing at Mel, “You too, Medarda.”

Without another word, she turned and started back toward the ramp of The Gauntlet, shoulders squaring again, steps steady.

Caitlyn watched her go, a strange ache growing in her chest. It was familiar by now, but no less confusing. She had a life to return to. Her mother. Her title. Her tower of glass and gold and all the expectations that came with it.

Her home.

Home.

The word echoed.

She remembered what Vi had said back on Zaun in the final moments before chaos had erupted. Before they fought side by side for the people of Jericho, for the crew, for each other. 

“Home’s not walls or a roof or a decent mattress. It’s not a fixed place. It’s wherever they are.”

Vi had looked at her crew like they were the galaxy’s center as she'd said that. Her people. Her home.

Caitlyn didn’t have that. Not with her mother, not with anyone, really. Except Mel, of course. And Mel? Ambessa was fierce, cunning, and had a passionate heart, but that heart had long since been claimed by duty. There was room for nothing but her own ambition.

The two of them, Caitlyn and Mel—they didn’t have a home. Not in the way Vi had meant.

They hadn’t had one in a long, long time.

“Do you trust me?” Caitlyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mel didn’t hesitate. She nodded. She already knew. “We’re doing this, aren’t we?”

Caitlyn’s fingers laced through hers, a steady grip for the both of them.

“I think we are,” she said softly.

And then, they ran.

“Violet!” she called out, breathless but sure.

Vi had just reached the top of the ramp, one hand on the hatch controls, when she turned, blinking at the sound of her name. Her brows rose in confusion as Caitlyn and Mel sprinted toward The Gauntlet.

“We want to go with you!” Caitlyn called out.

Vi stared at them. Then let out a single, stunned laugh. Not mocking, just incredulous. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”

“We don’t…” Caitlyn started, then paused, gathering herself. “We don’t have a home.”

Vi tilted her head skeptically, her gaze drifting to the grand spires of Piltover, shining in the late night city lights.

Caitlyn shook her head. “Home’s not walls, or a roof, or a decent mattress.” She said firmly, Vi’s own words, returned to her now. “I don’t know where my home is, Violet. Maybe it’s not on your ship, but… it’s out there somewhere, and I need to find it.”

Vi studied her. No fear. No nerves. Just raw, open truth.

She turned her gaze to Mel. “And you?”

Mel held Caitlyn’s hand a little tighter. “Ambessa Medarda is a lot of things. A warrior. A tactician. A politician. But she was never a mother.” Her eyes looked up to the sky, soft, but resolute. “Caitlyn is the only family I’ve ever really had. If her home is somewhere out there…” she nodded upward, “then maybe mine is too.”

Vi let the words settle. She bit the inside of her cheek, letting out a short exhale. She remembered that feeling. The drift. That ache for something more. For a place to belong.

Finally, she smirked, shaking her head. “Two more Pilties on my ship...” she muttered. “Powder’s gonna fucking kill me.” She nodded her head toward the hatch behind her. “Come on.”

Caitlyn and Mel exchanged a look, eyes wide, before breaking into unfiltered, excited laughter as they ran up the ramp to their new home. 

Or the ship that would at least help them find it. 

Chapter Text

Two Years Ago…

Noxus.

Vi hated Noxus.

More than she hated Piltover, and that was saying something. Piltover at least pretended to be alive, all gleaming towers and smug aristocrats sipping imported tea. But Noxus? Noxus was a concrete furnace. A planet built on war, and designed by people who never outgrew their obsession with sharp angles and steel. Weapons were greetings, and armor was fashion.

Damn, good food though, as Sarah was always eager to point out, and Vi reluctantly had to agree. 

But as the crew threaded their way through the grey, oppressive streets of Noxus, nobody was thinking about food anymore.

The air here was too dense with tension, too full of watchful eyes and armored patrols. This place was carved from solid concrete—blocky, brutalist, and unforgiving. Vi led the way, her jaw tight, eyes scanning every shadow. The others followed in a loose formation. 

Ekko’s voice came low, tight with nerves. “Powder… are you sure about this?”

His eyes darted to the rooftops. Noxian guards were posted everywhere, their black and crimson armor casting long, sharp shadows in the dying afternoon light. There were few places in the galaxy where one might prefer to deal with Enforcers over the local authorities, but Noxus was definitely one of them. No patience. No questions. Just force.

Powder rolled her eyes, tugging the collar of her jacket a little higher as she walked. “Oh, would you relax? Renni’s gotta be just as careful as we do. Subtlety’s kind of the name of the game here for everyone .” Her smirk faltered slightly as she scanned a passing checkpoint. She glanced down at the small figure walking beside her, barely up to her ribs, hood drawn tightly over her head. Isha. Strange, quiet, sharp in a way most adults weren’t, and Powder and Ekko had grown attached to her instantly after pulling her out of that HexTech facility. She was a mystery, but she was theirs.

“Would I have brought the kid if I wasn’t sure?” Powder asked, her voice lighter now, confident, a mask for the tension humming beneath her skin, “It’s gonna be easy-peasy.”

“I’ve learned to keep an eye on just about anything you’re sure of,” Sarah quipped, her voice teasing but edged with tension.

Powder didn’t bother looking at her, she simply threw a middle finger in her direction. “Yeah, yeah. Keep walking, Fortune.”

“Sarah…” Vi warned, her tone barely holding on to patience.

Sarah sighed, the weight behind it heavier than her usual snark. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m just a little on edge. Places like this put my trigger finger in a mood.”

“Yeah, not to pile on,” Jayce added, glancing around nervously, “but I’m really not super jazzed about being here either.”

“Can it, new guy, ” Powder snapped.

“Hey, I’m just—”

“ Enough. ” Vi halted the crew with a raised hand. She glanced around, then turned her focus to Powder. “She says we’re good, so we’re good.” Her voice softened just a bit, and she smiled. “I trust you, Pow.”

Powder stood there for a moment,  then gave a short nod. No sarcasm. Just quiet gratitude.

Vi turned and kept walking. The rest fell into step behind her, their boots echoing off the cracked concrete. 

She scanned the rooftops as they neared the meeting point. She meant what she’d said, she trusted Powder with her life. Her sister was always trying to prove herself, always coming up with new angles, new plans, eager to pull her weight for the crew. And she did, even if things didn’t always go perfectly. But that didn’t stop Vi’s stomach from knotting tighter with every step they took. Every guard they passed watched them like a hawk tracking its prey.

A hand slipped around her waist, and Vi’s body tensed, until the familiar notes of gun oil and cinnamon hit her nose.

“Jumpy,” Sarah teased, her voice low.

Vi exhaled sharply. “Jesus, Sarah. Don’t do that.”

“Since when do you not want my hands on you?” Sarah murmured, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

Vi blushed, despite herself. “Since we landed on the galaxy’s least welcoming rock.”

Sarah leaned in, lips dangerously close to her ear. “So focused. So disciplined…” Her fingers tightened on Vi’s hip. “Remind me to help you… unwind later.”

Vi smirked, and laughed ever so slightly, the tiniest cracks appearing in her armor. “Noted.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Powder groaned, making a face like she’d just swallowed battery acid.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “Something to say, Bluebird?”

Powder’s scowl deepened. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Sarah tapped her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Hmm. No to Bluebird. What about… Jinx? Would you like that, my little jinx? ”

Powder’s eyes lit up. “Say that one more goddamn time and I swear—”

“Cut the shit. Both of you.” Vi said sharply. She stepped forward, jaw set. “We’re here.”

There weren’t many unoccupied corners in Noxus. Eyes and guns were everywhere—high ground, mouths of alleyways, behind every window. On this planet, criminal activity wasn’t absent. It was just so quiet, so calculated in the tightest blind spots imaginable, that afterward you’d question whether it had even happened at all.

This warehouse was buried deep in one such blind spot.

Vi glanced over at her tech expert. “Ekko, stay outside. Find a good distraction in case anything goes sideways.”

He nodded and made himself scarce, ducking into the shadows of the neighboring alley. 

Vi hit the buzzer. A moment passed before the door creaked open, revealing what looked like just another warehouse grunt in grease-stained overalls. He gave her a once-over, unimpressed.

“A fine day to traverse the systems,” he said. The words were casual. But the meaning behind them wasn’t.

Vi didn’t blink as she answered with the counter-sign. “Unless you’re stopping on Freljord.”

The man’s face didn’t shift, but his eyes sharpened. “You’re late.”

Vi shrugged. “I’ll have quite the apology ready for your boss. You wanna move, or should I tell her you made her wait longer?”

He clenched his jaw, stared her down like it might work. It didn’t. Vi stared right back, flat and patient. Finally, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside.

“Elevator’s to the right. Don’t stop. Don’t look. Do what you came to do, and get the hell out.”

Without a word, Vi shouldered past the warehouse guard, making herself welcome with all the grace of a sledgehammer. The man tensed, but said nothing.

“Excuse us,” Powder offered with a sheepish smile and awkward wave as she slipped past after her sister.

The rest of the crew followed in tight formation, boots echoing through the dim space as they approached the freight elevator tucked into the back corner of the warehouse.

“I know I said Renni had to keep things quiet, too,” Powder whispered as they stepped inside, “but maybe, I don’t know, don’t shoulder check the armed muscle?”

Vi flashed her a wink. “Come on, Pow. You know I can never pass up on a chance to put a guy like that in his place.”

Powder sighed, somewhere between exasperated and nervous. “One of these days, you’re gonna push the wrong guy.”

Vi smirked as the elevator groaned to life beneath them.

Jayce adjusted the strap on his shoulder, shifting the weight of his bag. Vi turned to him.

“How’re the schematics looking, Pretty Boy?”

Jayce unzipped the satchel and pulled out a tightly rolled bundle of blueprints, the slick HexTech seal still visible on the edge. He unrolled it just enough to reveal the heading: COILCASTER—GEN. I Experimental Arc Rifle. A fusion-cell weapon with the potential to fry anyone in an instant. A nice little bonus the newest Gauntlet crewmate had offered on their way out of HexTech. High-end and high-risk, exactly the kind of thing that made crime lords like Renni foam at the mouth.

Jayce chuckled under his breath. “Can’t believe how much she’s willing to pay for a single schematic.”

Vi raised a brow. “You complaining about easy credits?”

“Never,” he replied, rolling the blueprints back up and sliding them into the bag.

A final jolt shook the floor beneath them. The elevator shuddered to a halt, and the doors creaked open with a hiss of hydraulics.

It was time to meet the queen of Noxus' underworld.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Renni was, in a word, unsettling.

Her presence carried the weight of a heinous crime waiting to happen. Her eyes didn’t just see, they scanned , calculated, like they were always two steps ahead and cataloguing the moment someone’s luck would run out. Where her nose should’ve been, a jagged metal apparatus pulsed faintly, fed by a pair of green-tinged tubes that disappeared beneath her collar. The contents of the fluid? Vi didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, it hissed with every breath she took, a quiet reminder that this was a woman held together more by spite than flesh.

She sat at the table in the center of the room, flanked by her men to her left and right. A rust-stained vent fan hummed overhead, the only sound other than the slow, rhythmic wheeze of her breathing unit.

“You’re late,” she said flatly, her voice rough. 

Vi didn’t flinch. She strolled to the table and pulled out the chair with theatrical ease. “You and your guy at the door read the same script?” she asked as she sat. “Tell you what, throw in an extra ten credits and I’ll get you both a dictionary.”

“Vi…” Powder hissed under her breath, sharp and warning.

But to everyone’s surprise, the scowl on Renni’s scarred face… twitched. Twisted into something not quite a smile, but damn close, like her face wasn’t used to the mechanics of humor.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Captain,” Renni said, voice low as she leaned forward onto the table, mechanical tubes hissing softly with the movement.

Vi leaned back, hands behind her head in a casual sprawl. “All good things, I’m sure.”

Renni’s brow lifted. “I think we both know better.”

Vi grinned. “Well, you know what they say, any press is good press.”

Renni’s eyes narrowed. “It also paints a very pretty target on you.”

Vi’s smirk fell, clocking the not-so-thinly veiled threat. She leaned forward, her elbows now resting on the cold, metal table. 

“Then whoever takes the shot better not fucking miss.”

The air in the room changed, tightened. Powder instinctively pulled Isha closer as she and Jayce exchanged uneasy glances. Sarah’s fingers hovered near her sidearm. The silence between Renni and Vi was heavy, oppressive. 

Then, Renni laughed. A sharp, dry chuckle that grew, cracking the tension like glass underfoot.

“Alright,” she said, still amused. “Let’s get to it. Hand it over.”

Jayce unzipped his bag, but Vi stopped him with a raised hand. “Not until we see the silver.”

Renni clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers. One of her guards stepped forward with a duffel and l overturned it onto the table. The cold clatter of credits echoed around the room.

“Five thousand. Count it if you like.”

Vi glanced at the pile, then shook her head. “Not gonna insult your integrity, Renni.” She nodded to Sarah, signalling her to start collecting the credits. 

“You’re far too trusting,” Renni mused, studying her face.

Vi shrugged. “Saying I shouldn’t trust you?”

“I’m saying trusting anyone gets you killed.”

Vi didn’t blink. “So does trying to rip me off. And you’re smarter than that.” She tilted her head. “Well, I think.”

The silence returned, shorter this time, but still sharp. Then Vi gave a curt nod to Jayce. He stepped forward, pulled out the blueprints, and placed them on the table. Renni reached for them with something just shy of reverence, fingers tracing the edge of the schematics like she was touching scripture.

“Beautiful work,” she murmured. “Hard to believe you got it this fast.”

Vi’s smile turned crooked. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

Renni’s eyes flicked up to her again, thoughtful now. Just as one of her men leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Her expression shifted.

She nodded once. “Apologies, Captain Lanes, but I’ve got other matters to see to. Let’s wrap this up topside.”

Vi stood, adjusting her jacket. “Lead the way.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The elevator ride up was silent. Not the peaceful kind. This was the kind of silence that hummed with tension. A static in the air. A gut instinct no one could quite name, but everyone felt. Vi’s hand hovered close to her holster. Powder kept glancing at Isha like she expected to have to run. Even Jayce, usually the loudest one in any room, said nothing.

And then the elevator dinged .

The doors slid open.

And there they were. Rifles. Dozens of them. All aimed squarely at the crew. The unmistakable insignia of the Enforcers glared from every uniform like a warning label.

Vi barely had time to register it before she heard Renni’s voice, dripping smug satisfaction from just behind her shoulder.

“Like I said, Captain Lanes, you’re far too trusting.”

Vi spun, already swinging. “You motherfu—”

But she never made contact.

The breath wrenched out of her lungs as cold, sharp steel punched up under her ribs. Her body stiffened. Her eyes widened. And then—blood.

Lots of it.

Vi’s gaze dropped to the dagger buried in her side. The hilt gleamed under the harsh lights, now flickering against the blood already soaking through her shirt. Her breath caught in her throat. Then slowly, her eyes rose to meet Renni’s.

That smile. Cold. Triumphant. Like this had always been the ending she envisioned.

“Vi!” Powder’s scream cut through the room like a blade of its own. She lurched forward, but immediately found herself staring down the barrels of a dozen humming rifles. Her hands flew up, fury flashing in her tear-filled eyes.  “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Vi’s legs gave out. She hit her knees hard, the pain should  have shot through her, but she barely felt it. Her whole body was already going numb. With trembling fingers, she reached up, pressing weakly to her earpiece.

“Ekko…” she whispered, voice ragged. “Now would be… a really good time.”

And immediately came a silent response… 

Darkness.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Vik!” Jayce shouted over the rising whine of The Gauntlet’s engines, Vi’s blood staining his shirt as he barreled up the ramp. “Get us the fuck out of here, now!”

“Affirmative, Crewmate Talis,” Viktor replied, his mechanical voice calm despite the chaos. “Is there a destination you have plotted?”

“I don’t care! Anywhere with a doctor! Just go! ”

The Gauntlet shuddered violently as anti-matter rounds slammed into its shields. Powder was already at the gunner console, returning fire in short, furious bursts, and Ekko slammed the ramp controls shut.

“Plotting navigation to the Space Station Narcissa,” Viktor reported.

Jayce didn’t hear him. His entire world had narrowed to the weight of Vi in his arms, her head lolling, blood pooling beneath his fingertips.

“Come on, Vik,” he urged.

The Gauntlet’s engines screamed to life, and then, with a lurch that sent ripples through the ground beneath the ship, it took to the stars.

Powder stood frozen at the threshold of the med bay, her heart in her throat as Jayce, Ekko, and Sarah worked frantically to keep Vi alive.

Jayce tore through cabinets, tossing aside anything that wasn’t gauze, sealant, or adrenaline. Ekko had both hands clamped over Vi’s wound, his face etched with worry, jaw clenched as blood soaked his hands and sleeves. Sarah was entirely focused on keeping Vi awake, willing her to hold on.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Sarah whispered, her voice trembling as she cradled Vi’s head with one hand and stroked her sweat-matted hair with the other. “I know it hurts, I know. Just stay with me, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Sarah…” Vi choked out, her voice thready and raw.

“I know, baby. You’re doing great. Just hang on. You’re almost there.”

“Pow… Powder…” Vi moaned.

Powder took an instinctive step forward, but Sarah’s eyes snapped up, sharp and warning. She didn’t say a word, but Powder stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t welcome in there, not now. She would just get in the way like she always did. 

“Powder’s fine, Violet,” Sarah said quickly, her voice gentle, soothing. “She’s safe. You just stay with me , okay?”

“Got it!” Jayce shouted suddenly, holding up a sterile gel pack. “Sarah, move!”

Sarah pressed one final kiss to Vi’s forehead and squeezed her hand before stepping aside. “Don’t you dare let her go, Jayce,” she said firmly.

“I’ve got her,” he was already tearing open the seal on the pack.

Powder watched from the hallway, her knuckles white against the doorframe, guilt twisting inside her like a knife.

Sarah’s footsteps were thunder, her eyes somehow cold and fiery at the same time as she closed the distance. Powder opened her mouth, already trying to explain.

“Sarah… I didn’t—”

She didn’t get to finish. Sarah shoved her back against the corridor wall with enough force to draw a gasp from her.

“Every. Fucking. Time.” Her voice was low, lethal.

Powder blinked, heart hammering, breath caught. “What?”

“Every fucking time you get involved, something goes sideways. Someone else bleeds for your mistakes. And this time?” Sarah gestured back toward the med bay. “This time it’s Vi. ”

Powder shook her head, tears welling, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

Sarah laughed, a cruel, humorless sound. “That’s the thing about you, Powder. You never mean to. But meaning doesn’t stop your plans from going wrong. Meaning doesn’t stop a knife from finding its way to your sister’s stomach.”

 “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Powder argued, her voice rising in desperation. “It’s not my fault!”

“Isn’t it?” Sarah stepped back, crossing her arms like she needed to keep herself from hitting her. “You always bring chaos with you. Noxus? Zaun? Demacia? Doesn't matter where we are or what the job is, you’re the constant.” Her voice cracked, but her anger didn’t. “You’re a fucking jinx.”

Powder’s knees nearly gave out. “Don’t call me that! I—”

“You’re a jinx, Powder,” she cut her off coldly, “plain and simple. The sooner you accept it and stay out of the way, the sooner you stop being a danger to this crew…“ Sarah looked over at Vi, still crying in pain as Ekko and Jayce worked to stabilize her, Sarah’s voice softened. “... To your sister."

“What are you saying?” Powder asked, trembling, trying desperately not to fully break.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, and took a breath, preparing herself for what she was about to say. “You’re going to get her killed someday, Powder. If you love her, you need to do what’s best for her. You need to leave.”

She slipped back into the med bay without another word, the door sliding shut behind her. Powder stood frozen in the corridor, her chest rising and falling in short, broken gasps. She couldn’t bring herself to move, not toward the med bay. 

And then her body moved for her.

She ran.

Her boots pounded the steel floors, half-seeing, half-sobbing as she tore through the corridor, past flickering lights and silent doors. She reached her cabin, slammed the bulkhead shut, and collapsed against it. The metal was cold, a sensation that would normally bring comfort, but not here, not now.

She sank to the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, trying to breathe, but it felt like the ship itself was closing in. Her chest wouldn’t rise right, her lungs wouldn’t work, everything felt too loud and too tight and too much.

She was choking on guilt, on shame. It was her fault, all of it.

Sarah was right.

It was always her part of the plan that went sideways. Her intel. Her builds. Her weapons. She could still see Vi crumpling, blood pooling fast. Her sister. The only person who had ever really believed in her.

And what had she done?

She’d proven everyone else right.

She was a burden. A liability.

A fucking jinx.

Her fingers clawed at her scalp, curling into her hair, pulling hard like she could dig the word out of her brain and throw it into space.

But it was stuck.

Because maybe it wasn’t just a cruel name from Sarah.

Maybe it was who she really was.

Then came the softest knock at her bulkhead, a small noise that dared to interrupt the crippling silence of the room. 

“Go away,” Powder whimpered, her voice cracked and small.

Another knock. Just as soft. Just as insistent.

She squeezed her eyes shut, took one shaky breath, and pushed herself off the floor. Her legs felt like rubber. Her chest still hurt. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jacket and yanked the door open.

“I said go a—”

She froze.

It wasn’t Sarah. It wasn’t Ekko. Not Jayce either. They were all where they needed to be, too busy keeping her sister alive.

It was Isha.

Just a little girl, standing in the hall, wrapped in an oversized jacket, eyes wide and full of quiet, patient worry.

Powder tried to steady her voice. Tried to fake some strength. “Hey, kid…”

Isha didn’t hesitate, she just moved forward and threw her arms around Powder’s legs.

And god, did that break her.

The strength she’d been trying to conjure crumbled. Powder dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around Isha, pulling her close, burying her face in the girl's shoulder as she sat back against the wall in her quarters.

She sobbed.

Ugly, wracking, heartbreaking sobs. All the pain, all the guilt, all the venom Sarah’s words had poured into her. 

And Isha just let Powder hold her as long as she needed. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Present Day…

Powder moved fast, her body a blur as each target flickered to life, only to be extinguished in a crack of simulated plasma fire. She ducked behind empty crates, vaulted over rusted scaffolding, slid beneath dangling cables, all to shave milliseconds off her run.

The holographic range was her favorite pastime whenever the cargo bay was empty. Today, it was her whole world. In fact, it had been for the past two days.

Sweat dripped from her brow, stinging her eyes. This was her tenth run of the day, and still she wasn’t satisfied. Still too slow. Still too sloppy. She reset the system with twitchy fingers, about to run it again, when a voice cut through her focus.

“You know the leaderboard just says ‘Powder’ ten times, right?”

She didn’t turn. She just reset the first target and muttered, “Been feeling rusty.”

“Rusty?” Vi chuckled lightly. “Powder, your guns are practically welded to your damn hands. You could never be rusty.”

“Could always be better,” she said, loading the training pistols with more force than necessary.

Vi’s boots made the metal floor creak as she took a few steps closer. “You mad at me?”

Powder glanced over her shoulder. “For what?”

Vi shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Can’t imagine you’re thrilled I brought two more Pilties aboard. Jayce was already pushing it.”

Powder turned back to the target grid. “They did more to help back at the Hex Lounge than I did.”

Vi’s voice dropped. “That’s what this is about? The casino hit?”

Powder stayed quiet, staring at the flickering light of a fresh target waiting to be destroyed.

“Pow,” Vi continued, gentler now, “it was a freak accident. Your bag tore open, you tried to leave, then you slipped. That’s it. Accidents happen. You can’t beat yourself up over—”

“Why is it always me?” Powder asked, her voice cracking.

Vi froze. “What?”

Powder finally turned around. Her eyes were glassy, lip trembling, jaw tight.

“Every time something goes wrong, it’s me,” she whispered. “Something breaks, someone gets hurt, a plan goes sideways… I’m always the reason. Every. Time.”

“Powder…” Vi stepped forward instinctively.

“I’m the weak link,” she went on, her voice rising like a valve ready to burst. “I mess it up, I make the wrong call, I—” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry , Vi…”

Vi didn’t wait any longer, she couldn’t. She wrapped her arms around her sister, pulling her in tight.

Powder collapsed into the embrace under the weight of everything she’d had in her head.

“I ruin everything,” she sobbed into Vi’s jacket. “Every time. Either it all goes perfect, or—‘here comes Powder to fuck it all up.’ Over and over. I’m just…” Her hands curled into fists against Vi’s back. “I’m a jinx.”

The word “jinx” always made Vi wince. She knew what that word had done to her sister. She knew the damage Sarah had done with it, how she’d changed Powder forever. It should’ve been the final straw. 

It was her greatest shame that it hadn’t been. That it had taken a literal knife in her back to cut Sarah out of her life. 

That even now… if Sarah called, if she asked for help… Vi wasn’t sure she could say no. Not right away, not without hesitation.

 Vi didn’t let go. Not even a little. Just tightened her hold and pressed her cheek to Powder’s tangled hair.

“Remember the Shurima job?”

She felt Powder nod against her chest, face still buried in Vi’s jacket. A small sniffle. Quiet.

Vi smiled, voice soft and laced with fond disbelief at the memory. “I was absolutely sure me and Jayce were fucked. Like, no-way-out, already-saying-goodbyes kind of fucked.”

She pulled back just enough to look down at Powder. “Then BOOM! You blew the entire back wall of that prison into dust. ”

Powder let out a tiny, wet laugh.

Vi grinned. “That guard— you remember? —he literally pissed himself.  

Powder laughed, louder now, through a hiccup, wiping her face with her sleeve.

Vi gently tapped Powder squarely in her chest. “That was you , Powder. You saved our asses, just like you always do.” She pulled her sister close one more time. “So don’t you dare give me any more of this ‘jinx’ bullshit, alright? You mess up sometimes. We all do. But no one, and I mean no one , on this ship would rather have anyone else watching their back out there.” 

Powder let out a shaky breath and gave a small nod, the fight in her shoulders finally easing.

Vi smiled gently. “Now finish up and go shower. You reek.”

Powder rolled her eyes and gave her a playful shove. “Fuck you.”

Vi laughed, stepping back toward the exit. She was nearly through the doorway when she paused, glancing over her shoulder.

“Powder?”

Her sister looked up. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Powder blinked, then gave the tiniest smile.

“…I love you too.”

Vi nodded once, then disappeared into the corridor, leaving Powder alone with the low hum of the training course and the soft flicker of inactive targets.

The smile she’d worn only seconds ago faded, slipping away like it had never been there at all. In its place, that same hardened expression returned—tight jaw, furrowed brow, eyes set forward.

She looked down at the pistols on the table. Her hands hovered above them for a moment before she exhaled sharply, and picked them up.

One more run. just one more.

Maybe Vi meant it. Maybe she really believed every word she said. But it didn’t matter. Powder could be better. She would be better.

No mistakes next time.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Two Years Ago…  

Powder slipped away in near-total silence.

Everyone had been too focused on Vi, bloody, barely conscious, being rushed into the clinic on Narcissa Station. The noise the crew made drew eyes from every corner of the station.

No one noticed the girl in the shadows.

No one saw her climb into a star speeder that very clearly wasn’t hers. No one stopped her as the single-seat craft detached from the docking ring and tore off into the void with a flash as she skipped to Noxus.

And when she arrived, her hood drawn, shoulders hunched, boots moving with purpose through the streets of the Noxian capital, still, no one gave her a second glance.

She knew exactly where she was going.

Down alleys and side streets, past the propaganda broadcasts and the checkpoints, back to that quiet, rotting corner of the city, the place that had nearly taken her sister.

She stopped outside a rust-worn warehouse door and raised a fist.

She didn’t knock gently.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The door cracked open, just a sliver, just enough for someone inside to growl out a half-threat before—

Clink.

The grenade rolled through the threshold into the warehouse.

They noticed her then.

Oh, they noticed fast.

She didn’t wait for the smoke to clear.

The moment the blast shook the frame, Powder kicked the door wide open, plasma SMGs already up and screaming. The twin muzzles lit up the haze with rapid bursts, carving through shadows and flesh in a lethal dance.

Renni’s crew barely had time to register the blue blur before they dropped—staggering, shouting, scrambling for weapons they’d never get the chance to use.

Who’s a jinx?

The words echoed in her head, louder with every step, every pull of the trigger.

Who’s a fucking jinx?!

She tore through the warehouse, relentlessly leaving scorched walls and crumpled bodies in her wake. She ducked behind support beams, vaulted over crates, pure instinct, pure rage.

And now she was screaming it.

“WHO’S A FUCKING JINX?!”

Her voice cracked with fury. With pain. With Sarah’s words that burned in her veins.

Another target, another burst of plasma. Another body hitting metal.

More came.

Good.

She wasn’t done yet.

With furious grace, she spun, flipped, ducked—an acrobat armed to the teeth. Laser fire hissed past her as she weaved between it, a storm of electric blue and roaring death.

Every movement was calculated chaos. Every shot found its mark.

They tried. God, they tried. But none of them were prepared for what she could do.

She didn’t stop until the room was silent.

No shouts. No groans. Just the soft buzz of burnt circuits and the slow drip of blood hitting concrete.

Her chest heaved, lungs clawing for air. Fingers still trembling around the triggers. She scanned the room, guns raised, searching for anything that moved.

There were no survivors.

Except one.

A wet, rasping cough came from the far corner, behind a half-collapsed crate stack. Powder stepped over the bodies, smoke curling around her boots, and approached the sound. And there she was.

Renni.

The crime lord lay slumped against the wall, a trail of green fluid leaking from the broken tubes in her rig. One of her arms hung limp as she looked up at Powder, and, despite everything, smiled.

“Shit,” Renni wheezed, teeth stained red. “Looks like… the wrong Lanes was in charge after—”

Powder’s SMG lit up one last time. A barrage of plasma rounds buried themselves into Renni’s chest.

Her head slumped sideways, the smile frozen in place.

Silence.

Powder stood there for a long moment, her shoulders twitching, her heart still in combat mode. Then, slowly, she looked around.

The bodies, the scorch marks, the wreckage.

The undeniable proof of what she was capable of… what she could be.

She dropped to her knees, hard. The guns clattered beside her.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn’t think.

She just sat there, surrounded by smoke and death, trembling as the adrenaline slowly began to wear off and leave her hollow.

“I’m not… a fucking… jinx…” she whispered, tears cutting clean lines down her dirt-streaked face.

Her hands clenched at her sides, her shoulders rose, and finally, she stood, wobbling, shaking, but standing.

“I’m not a fucking jinx,” she said again, louder this time, firmer. Like if she said it enough, the universe might finally listen. Like back on the Narcissa, Sarah might hear her. Or like she might even believe it herself.

Her voice echoed through the ruined warehouse, bouncing off walls that still smelled of smoke, blood, and plasma fire.

She looked down at the carnage… and something dangerously close to a smile crept across her face.

She was so much more than a jinx. She was a weapon, a reckoning.

And god help anyone who ever made her doubt that again.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Present Day…

Powder panted as the final hologram fizzled out, the last target collapsing into digital static. The simulation’s hum faded into silence, replaced only by the sound of her own heavy breathing.

She staggered over to the control panel and checked the leaderboard.

There it was.

A new record. Her record.

She let out a quiet breath, gave a single, satisfied nod.

“Not a fucking jinx…” she murmured.

Maybe someday, she’d actually believe it. 

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks now, and Vi had to admit—quietly, reluctantly, and maybe even fondly—she was impressed with how seamlessly Mel and Caitlyn had integrated into the Gauntlet’s crew. Caitlyn had naturally assumed the role of the crew’s doctor, a surprise to no one. She had already more than proven herself worthy of the title. There was, however, another title she had decided to give herself, Chief Science Officer. Vi had made a face the first time she’d heard it, but if she was keeping this crew alive, Caitlyn could call herself Empress of the Void for all Vi cared. She had even slipped away to update Caitlyn’s title in the crew database. It was a small thing, but god, the dumb smile on that Piltie’s face the first time she'd heard Viktor say “Chief Science Officer Kiramman” made it seem like Vi had moved mountains.

“With all the research she’s doing on The Tremor, and the improvements she’s making to our medical supplies, I mean, it makes sense,” Vi had shrugged when asked about it. It wasn’t a big deal, just a silly title. She wasn’t about to admit that a part of her had made the change for her own benefit.

After all, Vi liked that dumb smile. 

As for Mel, when she wasn’t making herself cozy “apprenticing” as an engineer with Jayce, she’d established herself as an extremely effective fixer for the crew, leveraging her polished charm and political cunning to land jobs Vi wouldn’t have gotten in her wildest dreams. It was odd how clean their jobs had been lately, how… legal they were, but Vi had to admit, it had been nice being able to take a few jobs that didn’t end in a quick exit or gunfire. 

Today was not one such job. 

“Contraband?” Vi raised an eyebrow, leaning casually over the console in the Gauntlet’s war room. The soft blue light from the holoprojector cast faint shadows across her face. “Mel Medarda, not even a month on this ship, and you’re already this corrupted?”

“You have no idea, Captain,” Jayce muttered, smirking into his coffee.

Mel shot him a playful glare. “Careful,” she warned. Jayce threw his free hand up in surrender. 

She returned to the console, swiping through a series of glowing schematics—crates, cargo manifests, and a rotating model of a sleek Unified Systems transport ship. “ Unjustly confiscated materials, ” she corrected, voice smooth and diplomatic. “Seized without due process, I might add.”

“Unjustly according to who ?” Ekko asked, arms folded. His skepticism was not subtle.

“You can trust my contact. He’s solid, a former professor of mine back at the Academy.”

Caitlyn’s head snapped up. “ Heimerdinger? ”

Mel nodded. “That’s right.”

Caitlyn blinked. “Professor Heimerdinger? Head of Advanced Theoretical Mechanics? Used to give lectures with puppets ?”

“That would be the one,” Mel confirmed.

Ekko squinted at the display. “So what exactly are we retrieving?”

“He wasn’t specific,” Mel said, tone a little too breezy for Vi’s liking. “But we’ve got an ID number for the crate, and if Professor Heimerdinger is going out of his way to ask me to get it back, you can bet it’s important.”

“Or dangerous,” Powder muttered from the back of the room, flipping a butterfly knife through her fingers without looking up.

Mel gave her a dry smile. “Or both.”

Vi sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Alright. We’re robbing a Unified Systems ship. What could possibly go wrong?”

“That’s the spirit, Captain,” Mel smirked. “Now, let’s go over the plan…”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi loved spacewalks.

There was something so… pure about them. They were dangerous, sure, but god they were beautiful. Just her, a spacesuit, a propulsion pack, and the endless silence of the void. No chatter between passing ships. No artificial gravity. No ship hull between her and infinity. A terrifying, awe-inspiring reminder of how small they all were, and how free they could be.

Powder was far less poetic about the experience.

“I’m so fucking bored,” she groaned over comms. “Oh my god, how long until the Unis come through the debris field?”

“Vik?” Vi asked, turning to the little orb floating in space next to her. 

 “The USSC Black Rose will be passing through this sector to make landfall in five minute and thirty-two seconds.” the voice crackled in both of their helmets.

“Thank god,” Powder muttered. “As much as I hate being on Noxus, spacewalking in its debris ring is somehow so much worse. I’m practically dodging tetanus out here.”

“Speaking of which,” Caitlyn’s voice chimed in through comms, crisp and calm, “Violet, we could really use a restock on antibiotics.”

“Oh good,” Powder muttered dryly. “That makes me even happier to be playing in garbage.”

“Put it on the to-do list,” Vi sighed.

A sharp crack echoed through the void—the distinct ripple of skipspace collapsing—as the Black Rose emerged, a dark silhouette against the stars. Its long hull gleamed with Unified Systems plating, cutting silently through the debris field like a blade through bone.

Vi drifted lower, concealing herself behind a jagged chunk of wreckage—a shattered ship wing, or maybe a chunk of old orbital cannon. Hard to tell out here. She raised one gloved hand and waved Powder into position beside her.

“Jayce, Ekko,” she said over the private comm, her voice low but steady. “Cut all open channels except 51.6, kill the Gauntlet’s power, and do your best floating space junk impression.”

“You got it, Captain,” Jayce replied. “We’ll be the prettiest garbage in the belt.”

Vi smirked. “We’ll let you know when to open the bay door for us. Be ready to skip the hell outta here as soon as we’re back in.”

“Copy that,” Ekko’s voice answered, tense but focused. “We’ll be waiting.”

Powder nudged Vi with her elbow. “Why do you let her call you that?”

Vi glanced over. “Huh?”

“Caitlyn. She calls you ‘Violet’ all the time. You never let anyone call you that.”

Vi shrugged, adjusting herself behind the drifting metal slab. “Like you said, she does it all the time. You have any idea how old it’d get trying to correct her every five minutes?”

“I might buy that,” Powder said, “if I’d ever heard you correct her.”

“I’ve tried!” Vi argued.

“Once,” Powder shot back. “While concussed.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Focus. Get ready to move.”

They both turned back toward the drifting silhouette of the Black Rose, now creeping its way carefully through the debris field. It crept forward, cautious, not wanting to scrape up that shiny Unified Systems paint job. Dumb bastards.

“Vik?” Vi asked quietly. “Your new toy ready?”

Viktor’s orb pulsed beside her. “Affirmative, Captain. Short-range acute EMP calibrated and standing by. Will activate once The USSC Black Rose enters the target area.”

Powder, tilting her head, asked curiously, “Vik… what’s the craziest thing you’ve learned about your mobile unit?”

“I’ve recently discovered this unit is armed with a one-kiloton self-destruct sequence,” Viktor said evenly. “I have reminded crewmate Talis of this repeatedly since discovering the protocol. This does not deter his puns.”

Vi’s eyes widened slightly. “Yeah, let’s, uh… not play around with that one.”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor replied. “I would prefer not to explode, if it can be helped.”

Vi chuckled under her breath, then shifted her gaze back toward the looming cruiser. The Black Rose drifted ever closer, just beginning to enter the target range.

“Activating EMP… standby,” Viktor said calmly. “The Black Rose will be disabled in three… two… one…”

And there it was.

A flicker.

Barely perceptible, but enough.

The cruiser’s running lights blinked, stuttered, and died. Engines went cold. A drifting hunk of government metal, dead in the water.

Vi gave a sharp nod and pointed to the controls on her propulsion pack. “We’re live.”

She and Powder kicked off the debris and jetted toward the back hatch. According to the schematics Mel had gone over with them, the cargo hold was just on the other side. 

Powder had lobbied hard to plant a bomb—practically begged for it, in fact—but even she knew it wasn’t the right play… this time.

“Vik?” Powder called, drifting up beside the hatch and gesturing toward it.

The orb zipped forward and positioned itself in front of the sealed entrance and began cutting a near-silent beam of energy into the hatch’s edge. The metal hissed and curled, it was all so clean and precise.

Finally, with a gentle groan, the hatch gave way.

“Beautiful,” Powder smiled, her voice warm with approval. “Go on back to the ship, buddy.” She reached out and gently patted her hand against the top of the orb.

Vi stared, the disbelief evident on her face. “Did you just... give Viktor head pats ?”

“You don’t?” Powder countered.

Vi shook her head slowly and sighed. “Come on.”

Without another word, the two propelled themselves forward and slipped through the half-cut hatch, vanishing into the disabled cruiser.

The cargo hold was dark and silent, exactly what they’d hoped for.

Vi drifted deeper into the hold as her helmet lamp flicked on. Powder’s light followed seconds later, the two shining beams cut through the darkness.

It felt like there was an endless sea of crates around them, one of which held something worth a thousand credits to what Caitlyn had described as a very… eccentric Yordle. 

“227-B… 227-B…” Vi muttered, eyes scanning the ID tags as the sisters split up and began moving carefully through the room.

“Whaddya think it is, anyway?” Powder asked, weaving through a stack of sealed containers.

Vi shrugged. “We’re getting paid to find a crate. Not think about what’s in it.”

“Bet it’s Yordle porn.” Powder said without so much as looking up.

Vi stopped in the middle of her search and turned to stare at her sister. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Powder raised her hands up to her head, as if it were obvious. “Come on! Highly sensitive materials, no details, eccentric client... What else could it be?”

“ Anything , Powder. It could be literally anything else.”

The two returned to silence as they continued their search, a silence that Vi was beyond grateful for. At least, until Powder inevitably spoke again, unable to help herself. 

“But like… what if it was?” She pressed, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. 

“Oh my god,” Vi groaned, shaking her head as she moved crate after crate aside, searching for the damn ID tag. “I should've brought Ekko.”

Powder’s laughter crackled through her helmet comms, sharp and bright in the quiet.

Vi scowled, but the edge of her mouth betrayed her—just the slightest twitch, just enough to break that stone-cold mercenary mask she always tried to keep up when on the job.

“I’m serious,” she muttered, trying to hide the smirk pulling at her lips. 

“Uh-huh,” Powder said, clearly unbothered, still giggling to herself as she moved more crates to the side. “Tell that to the ship logs where I’m listed as ‘Essential Personnel’.”

“Essential pain in my ass,” Vi said under her breath, but her voice was lighter now. The kind of light that only Powder ever really brought out in her.

“227-B!” Powder shouted, triumphantly hoisting the weightless crate above her head before gently nudging it through the air toward Vi.

Vi caught it mid-drift, turning it in her hands until her eyes landed on the ID tag. Sure enough—227-B.

“Perfect. Nice job, Pow.”

She was just about to call it in when something caught her eye. She frowned, tilting the crate slightly, examining the side panel.

Powder noticed. “What?” she asked.

“This crate…” Vi said softly, brushing dust off the surface. “It’s got an integrated air filtration unit... and a bunch of vital readings.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Something’s alive in here.”

“So, not Yordle porn,” Powder sighed, comically disappointed.

“You’re such a freak.” Vi laughed, shaking her head before focusing back on the crate. Her tone dropped, serious again. “No, but seriously, what the fuck are we stealing?”

“I dunno. But as a wise—” Powder paused and tilted her head, “—well, maybe not wise, but as a woman once said: we’re getting paid to find a crate, not think about what’s in it.” She gave Vi a pointed look. “Come on, let’s get back to the ship before—”

WHIRRRRRRRR.

A low mechanical groan vibrated through the floor beneath their boots as the Black Rose began to come back to life. The room became flooded in an eerie yellow glow as the emergency lights came on.

And then the gravity kicked in.

The girls, and the crate, crashed to the floor in a heap of limbs and profanity. 

And worst of all, an emergency door sealed shut, securing the previously compromised hatch. Their easy exit? Gone.

“...their backup power comes on,” Powder muttered from where she lay face-down on the floor.

“Vi? Powder?” Ekko’s voice crackled through their comms, tight with worry. “The Black Rose just powered back up. Tell me you guys are out of there.”

“Well, we could ,” Powder replied dryly, “but boy, would that raise some questions for you. Like, say… why aren’t we back on The Gauntlet?”

“Shit,” Ekko muttered. “Alright, let me see what I can—”

“Relax, Boy Savior ,” Powder teased. “I’ve got this.”

Vi glanced over, skeptical. “You’ve got a way out?”

Powder smirked as she tossed her bag onto the floor and unzipped it. “Don’t I always?”

Vi watched her rummage through the chaos of tools and wires. “Well, if you’re gonna do something, do it quick because—”

“You know my favorite thing about when my idea isn’t plan A?” Powder interrupted, pulling a compact explosive charge from the bag.

She slapped it against the emergency seal with a practiced hand, stepping back to admire her work like an artist admiring a painting.

“It gets to be plan B .”

Vi’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute, Pow—”

“ Alright, ” Powder said brightly, double-checking the detonator. “Grab that crate and get ready for a big fucking bang.”

“Powder,” Vi said, her voice low and even, “you blow that charge, and we’re getting ripped out of here… violently. ”

Powder raised an eyebrow, entirely unbothered. “Got a better idea?”

Vi exhaled slowly through her nose. The truth was… no, she didn’t. This was as good a plan as any, which was to say, terrible , but it was undeniably their kind of terrible.

Vi shifted the crate in her arms, feeling the weight settle against her chest. She stepped back from the charge, took a steadying breath, and braced herself, then she looked at Powder and gave her a single nod.

“Fuck…” she muttered. “Do it.”

Powder grinned like she lived for this exact moment.

“Hold on tight.”

It all happened the instant Powder hit the detonator.

One second, silence.

The next— BOOM .

The sealed hull blew apart with a shriek of tearing metal, and the sudden breach turned the entire cargo bay into a roaring wind tunnel. Everything not bolted down hurtled toward the new exit.

Including the sisters.

“WOOOOOOOOO!” Powder howled, laughing maniacally as she was yanked off her feet.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUUUUCK!” Vi screamed, holding onto the crate like her life depended on it.

They were ripped out into the void, spat back into the debris field in a barely controlled tumble, spinning through dead space with the broken fragments of the Black Rose’s hull.

Vi fought the roll, righting herself just enough to see Powder tumbling nearby, arms wide like she was skydiving through hell itself, cackling.

“Holy shit!” Powder gasped between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. “That was unbelievable! What a fucking rush!”

Vi groaned, adjusting her hold on the crate. “Yeah… great. Let’s get back to the ship before I puke in my helmet.”

“Guys, we’ve got a lot of chatter,” Ekko said over comms, voice tight. “Distress calls going out on every channel.”

“They suspect anything?” Vi asked, jetting back toward The Gauntlet, crate still clutched in her arms.

“Nope. Their codes are flagging a mechanical emergency, but I’d rather not stick around and watch them figure out it wasn't on their end.”

“Perfect. We’re almost there, open the bay door.”

Without another word, the Gauntlet, still masquerading as a dead piece of scrap in the debris field, groaned to life. The cargo bay door creaked open, beckoning to the sisters.

Vi and Powder propelled themselves forward, clearing the hatch that began to close back up behind them. They hit the deck hard, but at least this time they adjusted to The Gauntlet’s artificial gravity with far more grace than The Black Rose’s. 

Caitlyn was already rushing into the bay as they staggered forward, helmet lamps still glowing.

“God, are you alright?” she asked, immediately fussing over Vi, hands moving to check her for injuries. “You could’ve been—”

“Not now, Cait,” Vi said breathlessly, already undoing her helmet. “We gotta go.”

"I'm fine too, by the way," Powder remarked dryly.

They yanked their helmets off, tossed them aside, secured the crate with frantic speed, and bolted for the cockpit, Vi dragging Caitlyn behind as they ran. She slid into her seat and nodded at Ekko. “Alright! Let’s go!”

Ekko didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers flew over the controls.

“Skipping to Banda in three… two… one…”

The stars outside the viewport stretched, warping into long, thin lines as the Gauntlet engaged its skipdrive, vanishing from the debris field just as Unified Systems chatter began to spike.

Gone.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The Gauntlet re-emerged from skipspace with a soft shudder, the stars snapping back into their rightful places.

Below them, the quiet little forest moon stretched out in shades of deep green and misty gray.

Banda.

A gentle, unbothered moon, forgotten by most, overlooked by the Unified Systems, and perfectly content to be left to its own devices as it drifted in slow orbit around Ionia.

The lush, green little marble spun below them—perfect, untouched, safe.

Vi let out a slow breath, the tension finally starting to release from her shoulders. “Alright, we’ll be touching down on Banda in twenty.”

She glanced at Mel. “Let Heimerdinger know to expect us shortly.”

The ship’s diplomat was nodding before Vi even finished the request.  “Already on it, Captain.”

Vi approached Caitlyn, who was now standing at the viewport, watching the slowly approaching moon.

“Chief Science Officer Kiramman?” she called.

Caitlyn’s face lit up instantly at the title, just like Vi knew it would. She flashed a smile, proud and sharp and so very Caitlyn.

“Are you going to let me check you out now?” She asked, arms folded across her chest.

Vi raised an eyebrow at her. “You wanna run that by me again?”

Caitlyn’s teasing demeanor immediately dropped, and her cheeks turned bright red. “That’s… not what I meant! I need to make sure you weren’t hurt during—”

“Whatever Heimerdinger had us steal off that ship—” Vi cut her off, pointing toward the direction of the cargo bay—“it’s alive. Crate’s got an air filter and all sorts of vital readings flashing on the side, and I’m not gonna pretend I know what any of it means.”

Caitlyn’s brows knit together, curiosity sparking in her eyes.

“Well,” she began, her voice picking up speed as she warmed to the subject, “given the presence of an integrated air filtration system, it suggests whatever’s inside requires a stable atmosphere, probably oxygen-based, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have a more exotic respiratory system, so we can’t rule out the presence of gases like methane or ammonia. If it's emitting heat, that would indicate endothermic metabolic activity… warm-blooded, likely vertebrate, but the crate's size constraints make it improbable that it's anything larger than—”

“Cupcake?” Vi gently raised a hand, careful not to outright dismiss the doctor’s train of thought, but eager to get to the point, and smiled, just a little. “If you could just make sure that… whatever it is… isn’t trying to kill us ? That’d be great.”

“Oh.” Caitlyn laughed sheepishly and cleared her throat, smoothing her sleeves with a slight fidget. “Of course. I’ll run a full scan and check for—” she caught Vi’s look, “—I’ll make sure it’s not going to kill us.”

Vi nodded. “Thank you.”

Caitlyn smiled again, still proud, but a little bashful now, and turned toward the cargo bay.

Vi watched Caitlyn go for a second longer than necessary, then finally exhaled and turned toward the viewport, Banda’s green surface growing larger as they drew closer.

Jayce stepped up beside her, wearing a smirk that was far too knowing for Vi’s liking.

“Don’t,” Vi muttered.

“Dude.”

“ Do not. ”

“ Duuuude. ”

“Jayce.” She warned.

“Chief Science Officer is a hell of a title.” Jayce teased.

Vi sighed, dragging a hand over her face. “Look, whatever keeps our doctor happy keeps us alive.”

“Got it,” Jayce said, his voice dripping with amusement. “So giving her a fancy title, setting up a research station, and, oh right, who can forget the sudden stockpile of honeyfruit soda… that’s all to keep us alive?”

Vi didn’t look at him, she didn’t dare. If she did, he’d see right through her.

“Glad we understand each other,” she said flatly.

Jayce laughed, shaking his head. “Bro, you are so— ”

“Captain?” Caitlyn’s voice crackled through the comms.

Vi straightened instantly, grateful for the interruption. “Hey, Cait. Got an update for me?”

There was a pause. The kind that didn’t feel good.

“You could… say that,” Caitlyn said, tension unmistakable in her voice.

Vi’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”

Another pause.

“It… got out.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The crew stood around the open crate.

Whatever had been inside hadn’t clawed, chewed, or broken its way out. The metal seals were still intact, the sides untouched. That should’ve made Vi feel better.

It didn’t.

“Vik,” She called out, her voice tense. “You haven’t seen anything on the surveillance cameras, have you?”

“Nothing of interest, Captain,” Viktor’s mechanical voice responded crisply through the ship’s intercom. “Though I did observe crewmate Talis checking himself for traces of body odor. His reaction would suggest he found plenty.”

“Awesome, Viktor. Thanks for the help,” Jayce muttered dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Viktor replied with the utmost sincerity.

“Powder…” Vi said slowly, running a hand through her hair, “we definitely locked that thing up, right?”

Powder shrugged, utterly confused. “There was nothing to lock. Crate was sealed shut. Old-school magnetic clamps.”

Vi grimaced. “Then how the hell did it—”

“When I came down here, the crate was already open,” Caitlyn offered. She sounded thoughtful, but even she didn’t look entirely convinced by her own theory. “Maybe… it got knocked loose during skipspace?”

Vi didn't love that explanation.

“Well,” Ekko said, his eyes scanning the cargo bay, “however it happened, we need to find it. Fast. I doubt Heimerdinger’s gonna be thrilled if we tell him we lost… whatever this is.”

Vi sighed, turning to Mel. “Tell Heimerdinger there’s been a… delay.”

Mel gave a tight nod and hurried off toward the comm station.

Vi exhaled hard, looking back at the crate. “Alright. Everyone split up. Search the ship, deck by deck. Sooner we find whatever this is, the sooner we get paid.”

She paused, glancing at Caitlyn.

“If it bites you, call for Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “And if it bites me ?”

Vi shrugged. “Well… guess you’re dead.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Comforting.”

The frantic search began. The engineering bay. The med bay. The tech wing. The armory. Even the captain’s quarters. Whatever this thing was, it could be anywhere.

Ekko swept through the tech wing, eyes scanning every surface for any sign—prints, residue, maybe even some chewed-through cables. But the tech wing was spotless as always. Not a single tangled cord, not so much as a paperclip out of place.

He wanted to be relieved, really. But there was a growing, lead-heavy pit in his stomach that wouldn’t budge. Something about the stillness felt wrong .

Meanwhile, Powder wandered the armory, calling into the too-quiet air.

“Helloooo?” she called out. “Missing mystery creature? You in here?”

Silence.

“Please don’t fucking eat me if you are,” she muttered under her breath.

She tore through every locker, every rack, ducked under workbenches, even popped open a few floor panels just in case. Still nothing. Not even a scratch or a smear of slime to prove anything had been there.

In the engineering bay, Jayce was significantly less nonchalant.

He gripped his Repulsor hammer tightly as he walked deeper into the bay, steps slow, deliberate, ready to swing at anything. Maybe the mission was to deliver this thing unharmed, but he wasn’t about to get his face ripped off for some fucking credits.

The worst part was not even knowing what he was looking for. Was it big? Small? Furry? Venomous? He didn’t know. None of them did.

He crept along a catwalk, scanning every corner. When his hand brushed the railing, a tiny crackle of discharged electricity snapped at his fingers.

In a panic, Jayce’s instincts took hold. He swung, and swung hard.

The Repulsor crashed into the railing with a deafening clang , crumpling the metal like paper.

“ Jayce! ” Vi’s voice crackled over comms, sharp with concern. “Everything alright? Just heard a bang down there.”

Jayce cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the hammer. “Yeah. Yep. All good. Just, uh… tripped.”

“… Tripped? ” Vi repeated, flat and suspicious.

“Yeah. All good.”

A long pause.

“Jayce, what did you—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut in quickly. “Gonna keep looking.”

Vi shook her head as the transmission ended. Whatever Jayce had destroyed, she’d worry about later. Right now, she had bigger problems, like finding whatever had gone missing from that crate.

She finished sweeping her quarters—under the bed, in the closet, even rifling through her drawers just in case, and there was absolutely no sign of anything more menacing than a pile of laundry she needed to get done. 

But god, something was here, somewhere. And she was equally eager and terrified to find it.

Caitlyn scanned the med bay with clinical precision. Under the research stations. Behind the storage units. Through the medical cabinets.

 Nothing.

She didn’t like this.

Not at all.

Shit, it felt like one of those old horror serials her father used to watch with her when she was little, they all had cheesy special effects and bad dialogue, but had still been enough to keep her awake at night.

Her mind drifted to one such serial. The Thing That Came From Targon. She remembered it vividly: a shapeshifting, monstrous isopod from the farthest reaches of space, able to mimic anything it touched, hiding in plain sight until it was too late. It had crept onto a ship much like this one, picking off unsuspecting crew member after crew member…

Caitlyn shuddered, mentally kicking herself.

“Giant shapeshifting isopods aren’t real, Caitlyn,” she muttered. “It’s probably just a hushtail... or a scuttle crab... or—”

“Any luck?”

The voice behind her made her jump worse than any serial had managed as a kid.

She stumbled, tripping over the power cord to the research station. Vi stepped in fast, hands catching her by the arms.

“Easy,” Vi said softly, steadying her. The captain locked eyes with her, and instantly, her face softened. “Don't go breaking your neck. We've got enough happening today."

They stood there, close, for a moment longer than necessary.

Vi’s hands still held loosely onto Caitlyn’s arms. Caitlyn, perfectly upright now, didn’t need her to hold on, but neither of them moved.

Caitlyn cleared her throat, stepping back. “Nothing in here, Captain,” she said stiffly. “Just… a lot of dust I’ll need to deal with later.”

“Dust,” Vi repeated, nodding. “Yeah. Gotta watch for that.”

They stood there awkwardly, the silence thick and heavy in the med bay, neither quite sure what to say next.

“Well, listen, I—”

“We should—”

They both stopped, glancing away at the same time.

Vi let out an awkward laugh and spoke first. “I’m heading back to the cargo bay. See if we missed anything. You done here?”

Caitlyn nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m done.”

Vi pulled out her communicator, her thumb activating it. “Alright, guys, regroup in the cargo bay. We’re giving it another look. Then we’ll go from there.”

She and Caitlyn made their way down, boots clanging lightly against the deck, and found Jayce, Mel, Ekko, and Powder already waiting. Uneasy looks were etched no every face.

“Mel,” Vi said, without preamble, “you make contact with Heimerdinger?”

Mel nodded. “Told him we had a problem with the landing gear. Not sure he bought it, but he told us to take our time.”

Vi let out a breath, shoulders easing slightly. “Good enough. Here’s the plan. We’re checking the cargo bay top to bottom. If we don’t find anything, we split up again. Jayce and Ekko, you take the cockpit. Powder and Mel, check the cabins. Caitlyn, you’ve got the kitchen. Isha—”

She froze. She was staring where she’d expected to see Isha, but the kid was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Vi couldn’t remember seeing her at all. 

Vi frowned. “Has anyone seen Isha since we came out of skipspace?”

The crew looked at each other. A heavy silence fell over the room.

Powder’s eyes widened, immediate worry flashing across her face as she turned to Ekko. “Oh my god.”

“She’s here,” Ekko said quickly, resting a hand on Powder’s shoulder. “She’s safe. She’s—”

“Missing while there’s some random fucking thing loose on the ship?! ” Powder cut him off, her voice climbing in pitch.

And then she was gone, bolting from the cargo bay before anyone could stop her. Forget the cargo bay. Hell, forget the mission altogether. Powder had one priority now: Find Isha. The crew scrambled after her as she tore through the halls, her voice echoing loud and sharp.

“Isha?! Kiddo?! Damn it, where are you?!”

They turned corners, checking doors, calling out, but there was no answer.

At least, until they heard it, the sound of laughter carrying down the hall from Ekko’s quarters. 

Powder skidded to a stop, heart hammering, outside of the room. The door slid open, and there she was.

Isha sat cross-legged on the floor, laughing hysterically at a creature sitting in her lap, big blue eyes blinking, its white, fluffy body wiggling with excitement.

A ball of fur, no bigger than a teddy bear. White as snow, with a tiny pink tongue poking out of its mouth and two stubby horns curling from its head.

Vi just stared, because, really, what else could she do?

“Is that a fucking poro? ” she asked, voice flat with disbelief.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Porofessor!” Heimerdinger exclaimed as the inconspicuously re-sealed crate hissed open, revealing the tiny creature responsible for the full-blown panic aboard The Gauntlet.

The poro—tiny, fluffy, and blissfully unaware of the chaos it had caused—leapt excitedly from the crate and immediately began furiously licking the Yordle’s face.

Heimerdinger laughed with pure delight, scooping his equally fuzzy companion into his arms. “Are you alright, my dear boy?”

The poro wiggled happily, tiny horns twitching as it continued peppering his owner’s face with kisses.

Vi stared, utterly dumbfounded. “I thought… those were extinct.”

Heimerdinger nodded, beaming with pride. “Indeed! Quite extinct, tragically. But Porofessor here—” he gave the creature a proud little scratch under its chin, earning an excited sneeze in return, “—is my latest success in cellular restoration!”

He turned toward them, cradling the poro like a prized invention.

“A fully restored Poro Snufflus Domesticus! Grown from preserved DNA samples and my own experimental restoration technology! The first of his kind in over a century!”

Powder folded her arms over her chest. “So the Unified Systems decided a little white fluff ball was… contraband? ”

Heimerdinger smiled knowingly, shaking his head. “No, my dear. Not so much the, as you put it, fluff ball, but what he represents.”

He looked down fondly at the poro, now fast asleep in his arms, tiny snores buzzing from it.

“This,” Heimerdinger said softly, “is a monumental first step. A first step into research that the Unified Systems’ brightest minds aren’t ready for. A first step toward answers to questions they don’t want anyone to ask.”

“You mean…” Caitlyn began, trailing off.

Heimerdinger nodded. “A first step toward restoring a sample of Pestis Tremoris to its earliest, uncorrupted state. And once I have—” he paused, stroking the poro’s back thoughtfully, “—perhaps even finding its origin.”

Caitlyn’s breath caught. Her eyes widened.

“The origin of the Tremor…” she whispered. She stepped forward, words tumbling out faster than she could think. “Professor, is there… is there anything else I can do? This is—” she shook her head slightly, overwhelmed. “I’ve made it my life’s mission to—”

Heimerdinger held up a small, gentle hand, cutting her off.

“We are quite a long way from any next steps, Doctor Kiramman,” he said kindly. “But when that time comes…” he smiled, first at her, then at Mel, “I know exactly who I’ll reach out to.”

He turned to the rest of the crew, his expression filled with genuine warmth.

“You’ve all done more for the good of civilization than you could possibly realize. Thank you for bringing Porofessor home.” He nodded politely at Mel. “It was wonderful to see you again, Ms. Medarda. You can expect to see the credits in the account you provided shortly.”

And with that, Heimerdinger turned and carried his precious little achievement away, the poro snuggled contentedly in his arms.

The crew of The Gauntlet stood there, the weight of the conversation settling around them like dust. Cellular restoration… Reviving an extinct species… Uncovering the origin of The Tremor...

Big, heavy, galaxy-shifting stuff.

They stood in stunned silence, until Powder finally broke it with what was weighing heaviest on her mind.

“Did he call that fucking thing ‘Porofessor’?”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The credits had been transferred, the contract was closed, and another job, chaotic as usual, was in the books for the crew of The Gauntlet.

Now they sat lazily around the kitchen, plates and cups scattered across the table, the tension of the day melted into easy laughter and tired smiles.

“I’ve never heard Vi more terrified in my life,” Jayce cackled, leaning back in his chair as he launched into a merciless impression.

 “FUCKFUCKFUUUUUUUCK!” he squawked, flailing his arms dramatically.

Vi shot him a deadly sharp glare. “Excuse me? I was being ripped into the vacuum of space, dick.” She pointed her cup at him. “And if I may... I went down to the engineering bay earlier. Someone get a little swing-happy with their hammer?”

Jayce held up a hand, grinning wide. “I told you—I tripped!”

Mel leaned into him with a teasing smile. “Right. Because tripping definitely results in destroying a railing."

Jayce turned to her with a look of pure betrayal on his face and nudged her with his shoulder.

She just laughed and rested her head on him, wrapping herself around his arm.

“Captain,” Viktor’s voice rang out smoothly over the kitchen speakers, “I do have security footage of the moment there was a disturbance in the engineering bay. Would you care to review the cause of Crewmate Talis’ distress?”

“Oh, we don’t need to—” Jayce began.

Vi’s grin sharpened. “Absolutely, I would.”

Flickering to life on the kitchen monitor was a grainy recording: Jayce, hammer in hand, creeping like he was sneaking up on death itself. Then came a tiny static spark. 

Jayce leapt into the air with a shriek that absolutely did not belong to a man his size, swinging the Repulsor in pure panic and demolishing the catwalk railing.

The kitchen erupted in laughter.

“Our fearless engineer, Jayce Talis, everyone,” Vi choked out between fits of laughter.

At the far end of the table, Isha giggled, earning herself a sharp look from Powder.

“And what are you laughing at?” Powder, only half-scolding, pointed at her. “You gave me a full-blown panic attack, unleashed an extinct species on our ship, and now you’re laughing?”

Isha tried her best to compose herself, to straighten her face. It lasted all of three seconds before she dissolved into giggles all over again.

Powder sighed dramatically and ruffled the girl’s blue hair

“You’re lucky I love you, kid,” she muttered, voice low and fond.

Isha beamed up at her without a hint of remorse.

“You’re a real authority figure, aren’t you?” Ekko teased, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

Powder gave him a look… pure mischief, no attempt to hide it. “I can be commanding when I need to be.” She leaned in, just slightly, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Did you… want a reminder later?”

Ekko swallowed hard, the heat rushing up his neck was betraying him instantly. His eyes flicked to Vi, who either hadn’t noticed or was trying very hard to pretend not to notice, then snapped back to Powder.

“I… uh…” he stammered.

Powder just laughed, the sound bright and unapologetic, and winked at him before leaning back in her chair like nothing had happened at all.

Vi looked around, fully content and entertained in the presence of her crew. Some were new, some were old, some were loud, and some were quiet, but they were all hers, and she was theirs.

And they were all here, together.

Well, almost all of them.

She couldn’t help but notice the absence of a certain Chief Science Officer.

It was an absence she always seemed to notice more than she liked to admit.

Quietly, Vi excused herself from the kitchen and made her way, without hesitation, to exactly where she knew Caitlyn would be.

Without a word, she leaned against the doorframe of the med bay, watching for a moment.

Caitlyn stood at the research station, silhouetted against the viewport, staring out at Banda as the green moon grew smaller and smaller in the distance. She was deep in thought, Vi could tell by the familiar expression on her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nose was scrunched, and she was nervously biting the inside of her cheek. It was a very focused look.

A very cute look.

“Missed Jayce shrieking at static electricity like he just found a sumprat,” Vi called softly from the doorway.

Caitlyn turned, a faint smile flickering across her face. “I’ll have to ask Viktor to play it back.” She said lightly, though her voice and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Vi stepped further into the room. “You alright? You’ve been pretty quiet since we left Banda.”

“Of course,” Caitlyn nodded automatically. She hesitated, then turned back to the viewport. “It’s just… Heimerdinger. What he said… I guess it’s stuck with me.”

Vi said nothing, she just watched, patiently giving her the space to continue.

“What he’s doing… he’s right, Violet. It’s a monumental leap forward. It’s the beginning of answers to questions the US refuses to ask. And when he finds them… he’s going to need help. He’s going to need my—”

“So we help,” Vi said simply.

Caitlyn blinked as Vi stepped closer and gently took her fidgeting hand, stilling it with a warm, steady squeeze.

Caitlyn froze for half a second, glancing down at their hands, surprised, but not pulling away.

Vi’s voice was soft, certain. “We help, and whatever those answers are… we figure out what comes next, together, as a crew.”

Caitlyn lifted her gaze, meeting Vi’s steady, earnest eyes. “You mean that?” she asked, her voice small, but hopeful. “You’ll help?”

Vi shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. “Whatever keeps our doctor happy keeps this crew alive.”

Caitlyn smiled back, and this time, it reached her eyes. "Chief Science Officer," she corrected teasingly.

Vi laughed softly. "Of course. My mistake, Chief Science Officer Kiramman."

The two stood in silence for a moment, hands still clasped, eyes locked, neither of them quite sure what was supposed to come next. 

“Thank you, Captain.” Caitlyn squeezed Vi’s hand in return, a quiet, grateful gesture.

Vi, suddenly very aware of how long she’d been holding Caitlyn's hand, cleared her throat, let go, and gave her a light pat on the shoulder. “Dinner’s getting cold. Come on, eat. I’ll have Viktor replay the Jayce clip. I don’t think anyone’s gonna say no to a rewatch.”

Caitlyn nodded, watching her captain retreat toward the kitchen. She stayed behind a moment longer, sitting with the ghost of Vi’s hand in hers, the weight of Vi's words still settling into her chest.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit why her heart was racing, or why she was disappointed the moment had ended, but she was pretty sure of one thing.

She didn't just want to follow Vi back to the kitchen, she might follow Vi anywhere. To the ends of the universe, if she asked.

But for now, she'd have dinner, laugh with her crew, and watch Jayce make an absolute fool of himself.

And that felt like a pretty good place to start. 

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Jayce said grimly. “You know if there was any other way, I’d—”

“Yeah,” Vi sighed, defeated, resigned. “Yeah. I know, Jayce.”

It was an undeniable truth, a harsh reality of life among the stars. Along with the inevitable embrace of loss, betrayal, and death came something arguably worse. Fusion core day.

Granted, today couldn’t possibly be worse than the last fusion core day, which honestly wasn’t saying much. After all, that had involved being blown out of skipspace, shot at by Ravagers, nearly murdered by cannibals, and, oh right, being shot at by more Ravagers.

Vi closed her eyes, dragging her hands over her face.

“Vik?” she called wearily.

“Yes, Captain?” Viktor’s voice crackled calmly through the engineering bay’s speakers.

“Set a course for Narcissa Station.”

“Aw, fuck me,” Powder groaned from above, her voice drifting down from the kitchen. “Did I hear Narcissa Station?”

“Yup,” Vi muttered, climbing up the ladder, boots heavy against the metal rungs.

“Fusion core day? ” Powder asked without a trace of hope in her voice.

“Yup,” Vi repeated, wiping her hands on her pants as she reached the top.

“Damn it,” Powder groaned again, louder now.

Vi didn’t even flinch. “Yup.”

“What’s wrong with… fusion core day?” Caitlyn asked curiously, looking up from her notes at the kitchen table.

Powder rolled her eyes, slumping dramatically in her chair. “Sitting around doing nothing for hours while a bunch of stuffy nerds sign a bunch of papers. Docking logs, maintenance audits, inspections, all so we can get our damn fusion core replaced… real thrilling stuff. ” She leaned back, tossing Caitlyn a look. “The kind of boring shit you and Medarda probably live for.”

“Pow... ” Vi sighed as she slumped into a chair next to Caitlyn.

“You know,” Caitlyn said coolly, looking up from her notes, “for someone who’d probably be counting the days in Stillwater if it weren’t for the two of us, you don’t seem to think much of us.”

“Cait…” Vi muttered, a warning under her breath.

“Hey, you know what—” Powder started, sitting up sharply.

“Captain!” Jayce’s voice cut in, climbing up from the engineering bay, thankfully interrupting whatever Powder had been about to say.

Vi exhaled, relieved. “Yeah?”

“Remember that new bar that opened on Narcissa a few months back?” Jayce called, dusting his hands off as he stepped into the kitchen.

“I do,” Vi said, nodding slowly. “But today’s not Tuesday, so what’s got you all excited?”

“What’s so special about Tuesdays?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow as she entered, curiosity piqued.

“Nothing!” Jayce cut in quickly, too quickly. “Absolutely nothing! It’s just…” He shook his head. “Not important, but this is.”

He cleared his throat and slid his datapad across the table toward Vi.

She picked it up, skeptical, and glanced at the flyer plastered across the screen:

THE LAST DROP: FIRST ANNUAL DREADNAUGHT TOURNAMENT

Vi’s eyes widened, undeniably intrigued. “Dreadnaught tournament? Not a bad way to kill an evening,” she mused.

“Keep reading,” Jayce said, practically vibrating.

Her eyes flicked back down.

GRAND PRIZE: 10,000 CREDITS

Vi let out a low whistle. “Jesus.”

“So, I’m thinking…” Jayce began, eyes lighting up with almost adolescent glee, “ you put on a clinic at the table, we kick back, have a few drinks, and walk out of there loaded in more ways than one.”

Vi snorted. “Wow, really doing all the heavy lifting there with the whole kicking back and drinking while I do the real work, huh?”

Jayce shrugged, grinning. “It's a tough job, Captain. Someone’s gotta do it.”

Vi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Alright. Guess we’ve got ourselves a not so terrible fusion core day planned for once.”

“I take it you’re… good at Dreadnaught?” Caitlyn asked, her voice cautious but curious.

Vi shot Caitlyn a look of pure, uncut confidence that made her falter, just slightly.

“Cupcake,” she sighed smugly, leaning back with a smirk, “there’s no one better in the galaxy.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Vik!” Vi called over her shoulder as she holstered her sidearm. “Be good. Don’t let anyone touch anything they shouldn’t.”

“Affirmative, Captain. I will engage self-destruct protocols should the ship become compromised by any rogue mechanics.”

Vi froze mid-step. “Was that a joke?” she asked after a beat.

“Did you laugh?” Viktor shot back, as dryly as an AI could.

Vi narrowed her eyes. “Vik, it’s very important to me that you clarify if that was a joke.”

“Rest assured,” Viktor replied evenly, “I have no current desire to self-destruct, Captain.”

Vi exhaled, unsure of if that was supposed to be comforting. “Ekko, we’ve gotta work on Viktor’s humor protocols,” she muttered.

“We could just remove them altogether,” Jayce offered as he adjusted his jacket.

“Then I would be the second least funny one aboard this ship, Crewmate Talis,” Viktor replied.

Jayce blinked. “Wait, who’s—”

Vi couldn’t fight the smirk pulling at her mouth. “Alright, Vik. We’ll be back in a few hours. I’ve got my communicator if anything goes sideways.”

“Affirmative, Captain. Best of luck in your tournament.”

“How exactly do you play Dreadnaught anyway?” Mel asked curiously as the crew stepped off the ramp and onto the dock of the massive station.

“You ever heard of old world poker?” Powder asked, falling into step beside her.

Mel nodded. “I can’t say I’m terribly familiar, but I know the general concept.”

“Okay, so it’s basically the same thing—”

“Except it’s a deck four times bigger with completely different rules,” Vi cut in dryly.

Powder shot her a glare. “I was getting to that.”

She turned back to Mel, undeterred. “So, you start off with two cards in your hand. You can either bet, fold, or burn. Burning is when you give one or both of your cards back to the dealer for two new ones.”

Mel nodded slowly, trying to keep up.

“You’ve got those same choices every round. So after the first bets, the dealer lays down three cards—the launch. Another round of betting, folding, burning happens. Then the dealer lays down another card—the push. Then one final round—the showdown. Dealer lays down the fifth card and whoever’s got the highest scoring hand wins.”

She said it all so fast, like she was reciting something she knew by heart, which, well, she was.

Powder didn’t even pause before rolling forward. “Now for the hands you can win with? Shit, there’s so many. First there’s Afterburner, which is…”

Mel blinked, staring at the girl who was apparently a walking encyclopedia on this impossibly complicated card game, absolutely brimming with rules Mel could barely process. Her eyes flicked to Jayce, who just smiled knowingly and shrugged, as if to say “Just sit back and enjoy the game.” 

Mel smiled slightly and nodded. A couple of drinks with Jayce and Caitlyn at the bar, and she was sure she’d be just as into this game as the rest of them.

Narcissa Station was, to put it lightly, a lot. Neon signs stacked on neon signs, like walking through a commercial that never ended. Billboards hovered overhead, flashing ads for every vice and distraction the galaxy had to offer. The crowds surged like a living tide—noisy, colorful, and utterly chaotic.

Narcissa was a cultural epicenter, a crossroads for every system from Bilge to Piltover. All were welcome, so long as they didn’t cause trouble.

Easier said than done for the crew of The Gauntlet.

Vi never cared for it, the flashing lights, the crowds of people, the constant thrum of the station’s artificial heart. It was all too bright, too loud. She preferred the quiet hum of her ship, the solitude she could actually breathe in.

Powder, on the other hand? She was already grinning, eyes bouncing from sign to sign like a kid let loose in a candy store, which was only made worse when Isha spotted Chuck’s Confectionery.

A literal candy store.

The little girl lit up, gasping audibly before tearing off into the crowd, dragging Ekko and Powder along in her wake. 

Vi shook her head, sighing. “Didn’t even get a chance to say ‘stick together’ this time,” she muttered.

She glanced over at Jayce. “Alright, where is this place?”

Jayce consulted his datapad, glanced around the bustling station, and finally nodded. “Take a right at this intersection. Should be on the left.”

Sure enough, as they pushed and weaved through the endless tide of bodies, there it was, a bright green neon sign buzzing overhead:

The Last Drop.

Vi pulled out her communicator, thumbing it on. “Powder, we’re here. You guys coming?”

There was a rustle of noise, then Powder’s voice crackled back. “Yeah, yeah, just go in without us, we’ll be there in—no, Isha! Oh my god, that’s so many jelly beans! No, no, no, put that—!”

Silence.

Vi shrugged at the others. “They’ll get here when they get here.”

She led the rest of the crew into the bar. It was loud, crowded, exactly what she expected from a place on the busiest station in the galaxy. Her eyes swept the room instinctively, checking exits, assessing the crowd, until she saw something that made up for all of the chaos of this place.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice it, the subtle shift. Vi’s posture straightened, her chin tilted higher, her entire presence sharpened as they neared the bar.

And then she saw why.

Leaning casually against the bar, pouring drinks with an effortless grace, was an undeniably gorgeous Vastaya. Flawless makeup. Impeccable jewelry. Fashion that looked like it belonged on a runway, not behind a bar. She looked like a goddess, cool, composed, and very aware of it all.

“Hey there,” the bartender smiled at Vi, her voice low and inviting, eyes flickering with immediate intrigue. “Can I help you?”

Vi bit her lower lip, smirking as she ran a hand through her hair in a slow, practiced motion. “I’ve got no doubt you could, beautiful,” she murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous register she knew worked.

The bartender tried her best not to smile, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek, but it was a losing battle. Vi’s charm won out again.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  “Oh, for the love of…” she muttered under her breath.

“I’d love to start with your name,” Vi said, smirk still plastered to her face.

The Vastaya hummed with amusement, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her counter as she studied the all-too-confident ship captain. 

Finally, she caved. “Lest,” she answered, extending her hand expectantly.

Vi took it without hesitation, clasping it warmly in hers. She said the name back in quiet reverence.

“Lest.”

Then, without breaking eye contact, she gently brushed her lips against the woman’s knuckles.

“Vi Lanes,” she murmured. “Captain of The Gauntlet.”

Lest tilted her head, smiling like she knew every card Vi was playing and wasn’t in any rush to call her on it. “Charmed, Captain,” she said smoothly. “But I can’t imagine you came all the way here just to learn a bartender’s name.”

“Would you believe me if I said you’ve already made me forget what I came all this way for?” Vi teased, winking.

Lest’s eyes narrowed. “I’d believe you’ve used that line on every pretty girl from here to Shurima.” She paused, thinking. “And I’d believe it works… seventy percent of the time.”

Vi shrugged. “Ninety.”

“She’s here to sign up for the Dreadnaught tournament,” Caitlyn finally cut in, her voice crisp and entirely done with whatever this was.

Lest’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’re in luck! There’s one spot left. Buy-in’s a thousand credits, rules are standard. No Dreadnaught Royale, no Dreadnaught Three-Hand, just regular, honest Dreadnaught.”

“That’s the only way I play,” Vi said smoothly, flashing a grin. “Well… maybe not honest.”

Lest chuckled and began taking down Vi’s information, sliding the datapad toward her and tapping in the transaction for the tournament fee.

Without looking up from the datapad, Vi couldn’t help but ask, “You gonna be cheering for me?”

Caitlyn’s eyes flicked up. For half a second, she opened her mouth, as if to answer, before realizing, of course, Vi was talking to the bartender.

She shut her mouth firmly before she could make an ass of herself, but not before someone noticed.

Caitlyn caught the flicker of a glance from Mel, raised eyebrow, faint smirk. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, brushing it off like it meant nothing.

“Oh, as much as I’d love to, Captain,” Lest said with a smile, “I can’t show favoritism while I’m on the clock.”

Vi leaned in a little closer. “And when exactly are you off the clock?”

Lest giggled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She studied Vi for a moment longer, then, with a shift back toward professionalism, “The tournament starts in about an hour. You’ll have to keep yourself entertained until then, which I’m sure…” she glanced at Vi again, “...won’t be a problem for you. Just keep yourself out of trouble.”

Vi grinned. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The bartender smirked and moved down the bar to tend to other patrons. 

Vi watched her, all of her, go for a moment before finally tearing her gaze back to the crew.

“Well, alright,” she said, rolling her shoulders loose. “Let’s settle in. You guys grab some drinks, and I’ll be—”

“We’re here!” Ekko’s voice cut in, breathless and exasperated. “God, we’re here.”

Vi turned, and immediately understood why he sounded so helpless. Powder and Isha stood proudly, both lugging massive bags of candy like raiders after boarding a ship. 

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh, god.”

“Hey,” Powder shot back, already on the defensive, “Isha found the jelly bean dispenser, it was out of my hands from there.”

Vi shot Ekko a look of pure sympathy. “Well, have fun with… all of that, man.”

He looked at her, eyes already resigned to his fate. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

Vi slapped Jayce’s shoulder. “C’mon, Pretty Boy, let’s go play some head games with the competition.” She didn’t have to ask twice. Jayce was all too eager to get into anything and everything with his captain.

Caitlyn watched as the two of them moved through the crowd, making their way toward the tournament tables to familiarize Vi with the other players.

Her eyes followed her captain intently, gaze sharp, focused, full of frustration, exasperation...

Jealousy? No, there was nothing to be jealous of. She and Vi worked well together, very well. She’d even consider them… friends at this point. Not a bad place to be considering how they started out.

So why did it twist something tight in her chest watching Vi chat up that damned bartender?

“Drink?”

The voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and Caitlyn glanced up to find Mel standing beside her, a cocktail firmly placed in her hand.

Caitlyn stared down at the glass for a moment, then up at Mel, who offered a small, knowing smile.

“Seems like you might need it,” Mel said lightly.

Caitlyn didn’t hesitate. She tipped the glass back and drained it in one smooth lean.

Mel blinked, eyebrows lifting. “ Okay, so you really needed it.” She nodded toward a few open seats at the bar. “Come on.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Caitlyn sat there, swirling her third, maybe fourth, cocktail. They weren’t terribly strong, but Caitlyn wasn’t much of a drinker. so she was feeling every ounce of it.

More than the alcohol, though, she was feeling… reluctant acceptance. Not bravery, she wasn’t there yet, but pure, undeniable clarity.

She cared for the Captain. She had for a long time.

If she was being completely honest, she was pretty sure she’d felt something the night she and Vi had spent in that drab little room above the bar in Jericho, tending to her concussion, seeing the cracks in the bravado, the woman underneath the swagger and fists.

And every day since then, she’d seen more and more, little pieces, little moments.

Caitlyn sighed and stared into her glass, swirling the remaining liquor without much enthusiasm.

“What the hell am I doing, Mel?” she muttered.

Mel sipped her drink, smirking just slightly. She knew exactly what Caitlyn was asking, but she wasn’t about to make it easy on her.

“Sharing a drink with your best friend while we wait for a card game neither of us understands to start?”

Caitlyn snorted. “Speak for yourself. Father taught me Dreadnaught when I was little.”

The familiar pang hit, sharp and unwelcome. And maybe it was the alcohol, but it felt amplified, heavier.

She shook it off. One heartache at a time, Kiramman.

Caitlyn let out a long, unsteady breath. “I mean…” she said, softer now, almost losing her nerve, “What am I doing with Vi?”

Mel turned toward her fully now. “Meaning?” she prompted casually, but her eyes were sharp.

Caitlyn sighed, downing the last of her drink and setting the glass down a little harder than necessary, then she dropped her face into her hands, groaning softly.

“Meaning…” she began slowly, dragging her palms down her face. “The way she… is with me. It’s driving me insane.”

“And how is she with you?” Mel asked, poking, prodding, playing innocent.

Caitlyn threw her hands up helplessly, gesturing vaguely. “Just… everything.” She rattled examples off, frustration rising. “The honeyfruit soda. The title change in the ship’s database. The way she—she checks on me, just because.”

Mel sipped her drink, watching her unravel. “And, just so I’m clear,” she said, “this is a bad thing?”

“Yes! I mean—no! I mean—” Caitlyn groaned again, slumping back in her chair. “I don’t know!”

She raked her fingers through her hair, exasperated beyond words.

“She does all of this, but then, god forbid I so much as check her for injuries after she throws herself into the vacuum of space, or dare try a routine checkup!” Her eyes flicked toward the bartender, who, admittedly, had done nothing wrong, but Caitlyn couldn’t help the flicker of contempt burning in her chest all the same.

She swallowed hard, voice softer now, lower, almost reluctant. “And then,” she muttered, “the way she talks with any woman other than me.”

“Oh, god,” a new voice groaned beside her, startling Caitlyn into a flinch.

She turned and found herself face-to-face with Powder, arms crossed, eyeing her like she was something under a microscope, and Ekko, who seemed to be more of a sympathetic bystander than another antagonist.

“Powder!” Caitlyn blurted, “I didn’t—how long have you—”

“Long enough, Piltie,” Powder cut her off, tone dry. She studied Caitlyn for a moment longer, head tilted, evaluating.

They hadn’t gotten along. Ever. First impressions had been bad enough, and it had only gotten worse from there.

On good days, Powder was indifferent, on bad days...

“Powder, please just—” Caitlyn tried, dragging a hand over her face. “I’ve been drinking and—”

“Drinking and pining for the most emotionally unavailable woman in the galaxy?” Powder cut in with a smirk. “Yeah. I caught that.”

“Powder…” Ekko sighed, exasperated, desperate for the peace to be kept. 

She glanced down at Isha, still glued to her side, clutching her candy bag like it was treasure.

“Isha, find us a good spot near the Dreadnaught table, yeah? For you, me, and Ekko.”

The little girl nodded, beaming, and darted off to scout.

Powder smiled as she watched her, soft and fond.

“The three of you are sweet together,” Caitlyn said quietly.

Powder’s smile vanished as fast as it had come. She scoffed, sharp and defensive, shaking her head. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t try that whole ‘oh, I’m drunk and vulnerable, I just wanna bond’ shit. It’s lame—and I’m not falling for it.” She folded her arms once again

“I... wasn’t...” Caitlyn trailed off, the fight already gone from her voice.

Powder leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to a cold, almost pitying edge.

“Look, you and my sister?” She shook her head. “Not gonna happen. She likes ‘em confident and dangerous. Not... whatever this is.” Powder pointed her chin at Caitlyn, small, deliberate, dismissive. “Let it go,” she said. “Find yourself a nice... I dunno… accountant somewhere.”

Mel, ever protective, refused to sit by any longer.

“Do you not remember who you’re talking to?” she said, voice crisp, sharp. “I’d say the daughter of the Chairwoman of the Unified Systems is plenty dangerous. And if it weren’t for her confidence back on Piltover, god knows how your casino stunt would have—”

“Oh, here we go.” Powder rolled her eyes. “The casino job again. Jesus, you two, find a new talking point. It’s been months, give it a—”

Caitlyn sat up straight, her eyes locked on a scene going unnoticed across the room. A large security officer dragging a child.

Isha.

“What the hell—” she breathed, already on her feet.

Powder and Ekko spun to follow her gaze, Powder’s face darkening in an instant. Without thinking, she stormed over, Ekko right behind her.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she barked.

The officer barely glanced at her. “Kid was seen stealing from Chuck’s Confectionery. We have a zero-tolerance policy for theft on this station.”

“Stealing candy?” Ekko repeated, incredulous. “You’re dragging off a goddamn kid for stealing a little candy?”

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to step back and—”

“What is going on here?”

The voice wasn’t loud, it wasn’t panicked.

It was ice.

Caitlyn stood behind them, no longer the woman drowning her woes in liquor, but a force. Cold, controlled, deadly.

Even the officer hesitated.

“Excuse me... who—who are—?”

Caitlyn pulled her ID in a practiced motion, flashing it at him like a blade.

“Does the name Kiramman mean anything to you, you absolute idiot?” she snapped.

The color drained from the officer’s face.

“Miss—Doctor Kiramman! Of course, forgive the—”

Caitlyn’s voice cut through him. “So you do have manners. Good. Then explain to me what you’re doing with your hand on my niece.”

“I—your...?”

“That’s right,” she said coolly, enunciating every word. “And I’m feeling particularly kind today, so here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to let go of my niece. You’re going to apologize to her,” she flicked her gaze to Powder. “As well as my sister, and her partner. And then we’re going to pretend this never happened. Or I can have a very long chat with my mother about the funding necessary for Narcissa Station’s security staff. Your choice.”

The officer stammered, confused. “Sister? I didn’t even know you had a—”

“You have three seconds to decide how this goes, officer.” Caitlyn’s voice was low, lethal.

He swallowed hard. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

He let Isha go immediately. “My deepest apologies to the three of you,” he muttered, clearly praying this wouldn’t end in a tribunal.

Powder stood frozen, staring between Isha, Ekko, the officer, and Caitlyn, who nodded sharply.

“Well,” Powder said after a moment, recovering her voice. “We’ll, uh, let it slide this time. Just be thankful my...” She grimaced, but pushed it out. “sister is so forgiving.”

Caitlyn reached forward and snatched the crumpled bag of candy from the officer’s other hand.

“And for god’s sake,” she said, tone razor-sharp, “let the girl keep her candy.”

“Of course, Doctor Kiramman. And again, terribly sorry... to all of you.”

“I should think so,” Caitlyn said, her voice dripping with venom. “Now leave us.”

The officer didn’t need telling twice. He turned and hurried away, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt praying this incident would stay very, very quiet.

Caitlyn didn’t move until the officer disappeared into the crowd, her sharp gaze locked on his retreating back the whole way. Only then did she kneel down, slow and careful, reaching for Isha’s arm. She turned it gently in her hand, inspecting for bruises.

“Are you alright?” Caitlyn asked, voice softer now, gentler.

Isha nodded.

Caitlyn checked once more, just to be sure, then, once satisfied she was unharmed, she handed the girl her crumpled bag of candy and offered a small, tentative smile.

Isha stared down at the bag for a moment, back up at Caitlyn, then let it fall to the floor and threw her arms around Caitlyn’s neck.

“Oh!” Caitlyn blinked, startled. For a moment, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, her arms wrapped around Isha, tentative at first, then firmer as she shut her eyes.

Finally, Isha stepped back, scooping up her bag and beaming up at Powder and Ekko.

Powder, arms crossed, still not quite sure what to say, just stared down at her, then at Caitlyn.

Caitlyn stood up, brushing herself off, and offered Powder a halfhearted smile before making her way back to the bar, where Mel was waiting, drink in hand, her eyes bright with amusement.

“That was...” Mel began.

“Obnoxious?” Caitlyn cut in, suddenly very self-conscious. “Performative?”

Mel tilted her head, pretending to think about it, then smirked.

“Hot,” she said simply.

Caitlyn snorted. “Right. That’s me. Hot.”

She lifted her hand, signaling the bartender for another drink, anything to settle her nerves after that.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder watched, lips pressed tight, as Caitlyn returned to Mel. She was wrestling with something in her gut, something she wasn’t ready to name. Caitlyn was a lot of things. She was talkative, a know-it-all, prissy.

But this was... 

“She’s really not that bad, you know,” Ekko said, sidling up beside her and wrapping an arm gently around her waist, like he could read her mind.

Powder didn’t answer right away, because the truth was, she didn’t know what to say.

Some magic switch hadn’t been flipped. She still didn’t like Caitlyn, but she couldn’t deny it now, the woman cared about everyone here. Even her. And maybe... she’d been harder on her than she’d deserved.

Powder scowled at her own thoughts. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

Before she could overthink it any further, she made her way back to the bar, dropping into the stool next to Caitlyn. 

“She likes you, you know,” Powder muttered, almost reluctantly.

Caitlyn turned, giving her a curious look, more guarded than open.

Powder sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, then pushed forward. “It’s like you said yourself, Mongoose. The soda, the title change, the check-ins…” She shrugged. “It’s not just because she’s some model captain looking out for her crew.”

She tapped a finger against the bar thoughtfully. “There’s no one else she lets call her Violet. You ever notice that?”

Caitlyn opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She had, and Silco had pointed it out back in Jericho, but she hadn’t dared ask herself why that might be.

Powder didn’t wait for her to find the words. “If it feels like you’re not even on her radar,” she said, voice quieter now, “it’s ‘cause she’s not letting herself see you there.” She looked off at nothing in particular, losing herself in a memory. “The last time Vi let herself care about someone, it ended… well…” She exhaled sharply, and let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “It ended with a knife in her back, and her little sister on anxiety meds.” 

She sat in that thought for a moment, before straightening up and facing Caitlyn again. “But that’s sure as hell not a story I’m getting into with you. The point is, you want Vi? You gotta go get her.”

She punctuated it with a light punch to Caitlyn’s shoulder and got up, heading back toward Ekko and Isha without another word.

Caitlyn stared after Powder, processing everything she’d just said.

You want Vi? You gotta go get her.

The words rattled around in her head, unsettling, undeniable. But something else stuck just as stubbornly.

Caitlyn blinked, frowning slightly.

“...Did she just call me a mongoose?”

But before Caitlyn could dwell on it any further, the music cut, and a voice rang out above the crowd, bright and commanding.

It was the bartender from earlier, Lest.

“Attention, my loves!” she called, her tone playful, sounding through the bar. “The Dreadnaught tournament is about to begin!”

The crowd responded immediately, chairs scraping, murmured conversations shifting, a shuffle of feet as everyone repositioned themselves to get the best possible view of the game.

Caitlyn caught sight of Jayce, waving them down from a table he’d secured near the front, practically buzzing with excitement. Mel didn’t wait. She slipped her hand into Caitlyn’s and gave a small tug, leading her across the room.

They settled in, Mel cozy against Jayce’s side, sipping her drink, perfectly at ease. Caitlyn sat a little stiffer, her eyes sharp, trained on the table as the dealer began distributing cards for the first round. She watched as Vi, neutral as ever, calmly and coolly played through the first hand. One by one, other players folded until the showdown. Vi hadn’t burned her cards, not a single time. Either this was a hell of a bluff, or she’d had something good since the launch. 

The final bets were placed, and Vi laid down her cards with a flourish.

A ripple went through the crowd, some impressed murmuring, a few scattered claps.

Vi smirked as she pulled the pot of credits toward herself.

Mel leaned in, voice low. “So... what exactly just happened?”

Jayce opened his mouth, but Caitlyn beat him to it, eager to explain. “She won with a Stormrise,” Caitlyn said, tone brisk. “It’s the fifth best hand you can win with. A five-card sequence, any suits, any cores.”

Mel blinked. “Right, so, if we pretend I don’t know what suits and cores are...?”

Caitlyn smiled, amused. “Suits are the four symbols on the cards. You’ve got the moon, the ship, the star, and the hammer.”

She tapped her fingers on the table to the rhythm of each name.

“Cores are the colors on the face of each card. Fire core’s orange, void core’s black, ash core’s grey, and planet core’s green.”

She gestured back toward Vi, who was already stacking her winnings with casual precision.

“So, Vi had a two, three, four, five, and six. Different suits, different cores. That sequence? It’s called—”

“A Stormrise!” Mel finished, grinning.

Caitlyn nodded enthusiastically, sipping her drink. 

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” Jayce mused, leaning back with a grin. “Doctor. Chief Science Officer. And apparently, card shark.”

Caitlyn shrugged, a smirk hidden just behind the rim of her glass. “I’m a woman of many hats.”

“Mmm.” He nodded thoughtfully, “And which one of those hats is gonna get you to talk to the Captain?”

Normally, Caitlyn would’ve been shocked, maybe even offended by the bluntness, but with the drinks already warm in her system, all she could do was laugh. Quiet, sad, and painfully self-aware.

“Whichever hat gets me substantially drunker than this,” she muttered into her glass.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

As the rounds carried on, the competition only grew more intense, and Vi didn’t hesitate to get under her opponents’ skin. Trash talk, easy smiles, a posture so relaxed it had to be infuriating.

And it was working. Emotional players made mistakes, and one by one, they fell. Until finally, it was just Vi and one other player, trading wins, hand after hand. The stakes were higher now, every move more meaningful, every look more intense. 

Caitlyn had long since abandoned her seat next to Mel and Jayce. She was hovering near the table now, as close as she could get without being thrown out. Her eyes were locked on Vi, heart pounding. She didn’t want to miss a second.

The hands moved fast, faster than she could easily track, and the alcohol humming in her bloodstream wasn’t exactly helping. But this hand, everything slowed down. Vi and the man across from her weren’t just studying their cards, they were studying each other. They were locked in, they were tense.

Finally, after the push, Vi broke the silence. “Game’s gone on long enough,” she said coolly. “Let’s end this. Here and now.” She shoved her massive pile of credits forward. “All in.”

The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the room.

The man studied her, hunting for a tell. And whatever he saw, he liked it, because he pushed his credits forward, too.

“All in.”

Caitlyn’s heart was pounding. She stared at the cards already on the table.

They weren’t much, a two of ash core suns, a ten of fire core ships, and a seven and eight of void core moons.

Not exactly the makings of any winning hand, especially without knowing what Vi was holding.

And when the dealer flipped the final card, a six of void core moons, Caitlyn’s stomach dropped as she watched Vi’s reaction, and came to the conclusion that she had nothing. No hand worth a damn. She’d bluffed her way to this point, and had really banked on this guy backing down, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Caitlyn saw it, everyone saw it. Vi’s face said it all.

She had one play left. The dumbest, most improbable longshot in the game.

Vi slid her two cards forward and muttered, “Burn ’em.”

A ripple of murmuring cut through the room. Burning this late? After going all in? She was dead in the water.

The dealer nodded and slid Vi two new cards, No going back, no second chances.

Vi pulled them up off the table, her eyes shut, and took a deep breath before letting herself look at them.

Her eyes widened, the room froze. And for a moment, absolutely nothing happened. 

And then, one word, barely a whisper, escaped her.

“Dreadnaught.”

She threw her cards down.

A five and a nine of void core moons.

Five, six, seven, eight, nine…

All void core moons.

Five in sequence.

Same suit.

Same core.

The impossible hand.

Dreadnaught.

The bar exploded in cheers and shock. Vi laughed as she raked the mountain of credits toward herself. Her opponent slumped back in his seat, stunned and defeated.

“You did it!” Caitlyn laughed, the disbelief bubbling out of her as she pushed her way to Vi. “You actually burned for a Dreadnaught!”

Vi turned to her, grinning wide, wild, victorious. She wasn’t even thinking, just riding the high, and Caitlyn was the closest thing in reach.

Vi wrapped her arms tightly around Caitlyn, and spun her through the air, laughing.

Caitlyn laughed, too, swept up, breathless, weightless in the moment.

When Vi finally set her down, Caitlyn’s head was spinning, from the rush, from the drinks, from her.

And then came Powder’s voice again, clear as crystal in her mind:

You want Vi? You gotta go get her.

Before she could think, before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the front of Vi’s jacket, leaned in, and kissed her, their lips firmly pressed together.

The room exploded again into whoops and cheers and hollers at the display, but Caitlyn barely heard any of it. Because for one, perfect second, she felt Vi kiss her back. She felt Vi let herself have this, have her.

Vi pulled back, staring at her, stunned, breathless, lost. And suddenly, every self-conscious nerve in Caitlyn’s body came back all at once.

“I... um...” Caitlyn floundered, her brain scrambling for something, anything, to say “Sorry. I’ve… been drinking and...”

Vi was still touching her lips, her fingers brushing lightly where Caitlyn had just been. She blinked, composed herself a little, then offered a small smile. “No, you’re... you’re good. Just... heat of the moment, right?”

Caitlyn nodded, forcing a laugh as she mirrored the smile. “Right. Heat of the moment, and a lot of alcohol.”

Another weak laugh. Another glance that lingered just a second too long.

Despite the clamor of the bar around them, Caitlyn and Vi stood locked in a silence unlike any they’d ever shared. It was heavy, it was charged, and then, mercifully, it was cut off as Jayce barreled in, completely unaware, completely Jayce.

He grabbed Vi and hoisted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. “The best Dreadnaught player in the galaxy, ladies and gentlemen!” he declared, beaming, parading her around the bar like a trophy.

Vi was laughing, shouting at him between laughs to put her down, but she wasn’t exactly fighting him off.

Caitlyn watched as Vi was hauled off, the tension diffused, at least, for now.

She sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. God, what was that? It was bad enough she’d gone for the kiss, but somehow, walking it back felt even worse. She should’ve just committed.

“You know,” a familiar voice cut through her internal screaming, “when I said go get her, I meant like, have a calm, sober conversation about how you feel.” 

She looked over to find Powder, standing there with her arms crossed, shrugging like this wasn’t the most humiliated Caitlyn had ever felt. 

“But, I mean, drunk makeout in the middle of a bar works too.”

Caitlyn groaned, dragging her hand down her face.

Powder nudged her with her shoulder, light, dare Caitlyn even imagine… friendly?

“Hey. Chin up. It’s not the worst thing you could’ve done.” She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Well, probably.”

With a smirk, she turned and disappeared into the chaotic celebration surrounding her sister, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts again.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The evening rolled on, and the celebration at The Last Drop was in full tilt. Vi bought round after round with her winnings, soaking in the praise, the handshakes, the slaps on the back from every patron who could reach her. For once, she almost forgot how much she hated being on Narcissa Station. She even found herself a little disappointed when it came time to close out her tab.

“Congratulations, Captain,” Lest said smoothly as she took Vi’s credits. “You were outstanding tonight.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ve heard that before.”

Lest bit her lip, a smile blooming uncontrollably. “I’m sure you have.”

She watched Vi for a moment, thoughtful, as if weighing a decision, then leaned in, voice low.

“I’m off in twenty.”

Vi’s eyes lit up for a moment, the meaning behind the bartender’s words clear. A woman like Lest, god, she would never have to think twice.

But then, Vi’s eyes went to her, to Caitlyn. Tucked away from the chaos, twirling an empty glass on the table, lost in thought.

Vi bit the inside of her cheek, hard. God damn it.

She looked back at Lest and smiled, small, apologetic, but firm.

“Any other time, sweetheart, I’d wait all night if I had to. But I gotta take care of my crew. Make sure they don’t cause any trouble getting out of your bar.”

“Shame,” Lest sighed dramatically, leaning back with a pout. She followed Vi’s gaze, catching on quickly. “If you get your... crew under control, do let me know.”

Vi nodded, and turned from the bar. She pushed through the chaos, ignoring the last round of praise and backslaps, moving with singular focus until she reached Caitlyn.

“Hey,” she said, softer now.

Caitlyn glanced up from her glass lazily, a soft smile curving her lips.

“The woman of the hour,” she teased, slurring just slightly. “I’m honored.”

Vi exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. “Oh, boy. You are absolutely hammered, aren’t you?”

“Mmm... no?” Caitlyn offered, blinking innocently.

Vi gave her a look. “Right,” she said, leaning casually against the table. “So you’ll have no trouble, I dunno, walking back to the ship?”

Caitlyn hesitated. “...Correct.” To prove her point, she pushed herself up, took two careful, deliberate steps, and immediately stumbled straight into Vi.

Vi caught her without so much as flinching. “Yeah,” she said dryly. “Stone sober.”

She glanced over her shoulder, spotted Jayce, and whistled sharply. He snapped his head toward her.

“The Gauntlet should be good to go. I’m getting her back onboard. Round up the others for me?”

Jayce grinned, threw her a mock-salute, and turned back to the waning moments of the evening. 

“Alright, Cupcake,” Vi grunted, adjusting herself under Caitlyn’s arm, steadying her as they walked. “Let’s get you home.”

Caitlyn leaned heavily against her, head tilted back just enough to glance at Vi.

“Why do you call me that?” she mumbled.

Vi smirked and shrugged. “Why not?”

“It’s mean,” Caitlyn whined, drunk, petulant, and impossibly endearing.

Vi chuckled under her breath. “Yeah,” she said, nodding to herself. “I guess at first it was.”

Caitlyn frowned, looking at her again. “Not anymore?”

Vi smiled slightly, more to herself than to Caitlyn. “Nah, not anymore.”

Caitlyn hummed in approval, a low, contented sound, and let herself lean a little more into Vi’s side as they continued down the chaotic, crowded walkways of Narcissa Station, making their slow, steady way back toward The Gauntlet.

Vi pulled out her communicator, thumbing it on as they reached the docking bay.

“Knock knock, Vik.”

Right on cue, the Gauntlet’s ramp lowered with a loud, hydraulic hiss, beckoning them back aboard.

“Welcome back, Captain,” Viktor’s voice crackled over the comms. “Based on the alcohol levels I’m reading in the crew’s vitals, I take it your tournament was a success?”

“Not bad for a fusion core day, huh?” Vi remarked, bringing Caitlyn gently up the ramp.

“There have been worse,” Viktor agreed.

Vi guided Caitlyn through The Gauntlet’s narrow corridors, keeping a steady hand on her elbow until they reached her quarters. She eased her down onto the bed, gentle, careful.

“Alright, there you go,” Vi said softly, making sure Caitlyn didn’t topple over. “You okay?”

“Room’s spinning,” Caitlyn groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

Vi nodded, like she expected that answer. “Alright, let me get you some—”

Caitlyn’s hand shot out, clumsy but insistent, grabbing Vi’s arm, stopping her.

“Stay?” she asked.

Vi glanced down at her, normally so composed, now a sad, drunk mess, blinking up at her with something achingly raw in her eyes. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled the chair from Caitlyn’s desk up to the side of the bed.

“Alright,” she said, voice low. “I’m here.”

Caitlyn sighed, relieved, and closed her eyes again. “Good.”

Vi chuckled under her breath. “Yeah. Good.”

She sat there, quiet, watching as Caitlyn’s breathing evened out, her body softening with the pull of sleep. She reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from Caitlyn’s face, then pulled the blanket up over her.

She’s gonna hate herself tomorrow, Vi thought, smirking. She left the room for a moment, then came back with some next morning essentials. Water. Painkillers. They’d be there, ready when she woke up.

Vi turned to leave, quietly and carefully, when Caitlyn stirred, her voice barely a whisper.

“Violet?”

Vi froze, turning back. “Yeah?”

Caitlyn’s eyes were still closed, her words heavy with sleep.

“I want you to see me,” she mumbled.

Vi tilted her head, confused. “Huh?”

“I wanna be... on your radar,” Caitlyn slurred softly.

And then, nothing more. She drifted off again, breathing slow and steady.

Vi stared at her for a long moment, a sad smile tugging at her mouth as she shook her head.

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” she murmured, so soft it barely filled the room. “You have no idea.”

She stood there a second longer, watching, feeling something tighten in her chest. Then she turned, flicked off the lights, and left the doctor to her much-needed rest.

Chapter Text

Vi stood with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the image flickering above the holotable in the war room. The bounty details said he was worth twice as much alive, but just looking at him and what he’d done, she wasn’t sure she cared enough to put in the effort to bring him in breathing. The charges scrolled beside his projection—drug trafficking, weapons dealing, grand larceny. Vi had seen worse. Hell, she’d done worse when the job called for it. 

But slave trading? That was going to make today a very bad day for him.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

“Sheesh,” Powder piped up beside her, popping a candy into her mouth. “Ugly little motherfucker, huh?”

Vi smirked faintly. Yeah. That, too.

“That ugly little motherfucker,” Mel’s voice floated in coolly as she strode into the room, “is named Smeech. And according to my contact in the Enforcers, there’s a 5000-credit bounty for bringing him in alive.” Mel wasn’t looking at the projection, her eyes were on Vi. ”Emphasis on alive.” 

Vi raised an eyebrow, then flicked her gaze back to the dossier. “Still get 2500 even if he’s dead though, right?”

“Captain…” Mel said, low, warning.

Vi let out a slow, annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Alive.”

Mel nodded and swiped across the holotable, the projection shifting to a layout of one of the planet’s many islands

“He was last seen landing on Bilge three days ago. No one’s reported his ship taking off since.”

“The islands on Bilge aren’t big,” Jayce said confidently, arms crossed. “Should be easy hunting.”

Mel gave him a look. “Don’t underestimate him.”

“Don’t underestimate a yordle?” Ekko asked, one brow raised skeptically.

“Don’t underestimate a yordle with extensive cybernetic augmentation,” Caitlyn corrected firmly as she entered the room and made her way to the holotable.

Vi’s eyes went to her, but Caitlyn’s gaze never met hers. A week since the Dreadnaught tournament, and Caitlyn had become quite gifted at pretending Vi wasn’t in the room if at all possible. 

With a few taps, Caitlyn brought up grainy security footage. The room fell silent as they watched the yordle tear through a Demacian bank vault, skittering on reinforced limbs. His arms morphed mid-motion into spinning blades that tore apart the guards in an instant. It was fast, it was messy, it was brutal.

Vi winced. “Fuck,” she muttered. “Where does someone even get shit like that?”

“I’ve seen tech like this before,” Caitlyn replied, still watching the footage. “Corin Reveck. He was a professor at Piltover Academy when Mel and I were kids. He was always… a bit off. He disappeared from the Academy a decade ago. No one ever knew why.”

She turned off the footage and finally looked around the room. “But that’s not important. What’s important is that these enhancements come at a cost. A yordle’s nervous system isn’t built for that kind of output. Their physiology runs hot, high metabolism, accelerated neural processing, but that means their body burns out fast under stress.”

She tapped again, bringing up a medical model of a yordle’s nervous system. “The more he uses those limbs, the more neural feedback he generates. If we can keep him busy, make him burn out his own system, he’ll have to slow down.” She finally let herself glance at Vi, just for a moment. “And that’s when you’ll take him down.” 

“So, just so I’m understanding this correctly,” Powder began, skeptically, “our plan is to piss off a psychotic robo-furball, let him try to murder us, and hope he gets tuckered out before he does murder us... so we can hand-deliver him to an Enforcer?”

“That about sums it up,” Mel said far too calmly. 

“Right. Awesome.” Powder muttered, folding her arms.

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy. “Gotta be honest, Mel… can’t say I love working with an Enforcer on this.”

Mel nodded, already expecting the pushback. “Officer Marcus is solid. My family knows him well. Keep your heads down, let me do the talking, and this goes off without a hitch.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to mind my manners around the Piltie Patrol?”

Mel shot the same look right back at her. “I’m asking you to shut up long enough to get paid.”

Vi held up her hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”

Mel nodded. “We’ll meet with Marcus and his unit after landing. They’ve been tracking Smeech’s movements, once we get an update, we’ll form a plan.”

The crew began to disperse across the ship, each falling into familiar pre-job habits. Powder inspected her magazines, humming to herself as she spun one into place. Ekko charged up the fusion cells for his Arc Caster, watching intently as each one came to life before slipping them into his belt. Jayce stood in the cargo bay, swinging his Repulsor like he needed to remind himself how well it worked. 

Vi, however, wasn’t thinking about the job. Her eyes tracked Caitlyn across the ship, her back straight, her stride quick, and avoiding her, like she had been for the past week. 

“Cait!” Vi called.

Caitlyn stopped, stiffening before she turned to see the captain jogging to catch up to her. “Vi. Did you need something? I’ve got more in-depth files on Smeech’s enhancements. I didn't want to bog down the briefing, but if you want, I can—”

“I want to know why you won’t even look at me.”

That stopped Caitlyn cold.

“Vi…” Her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Now’s not really the time to—”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” Vi’s tone sharpened, not out of anger, but out of need. “I’m not going into a job with someone who can’t talk to me, especially you. You’re the one who keeps us alive out there.”

Caitlyn’s jaw tensed. Then she exhaled slowly and turned to face her fully.

“Alright,” she said softly. “You’re right. We need to be able to communicate. I’m sorry.” She glanced out of the viewport, where the blue marble that was Bilge grew ever closer, then back at Vi. “I’m here. I’m with you. Whatever you need. And later…” she hesitated, “later we can talk about… everything.”

Vi opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off by Viktor’s calm, mechanical voice over the ship’s intercom.

“We will be entering Bilge’s atmosphere shortly. All crew, please prepare for landing.”

Vi looked back at Caitlyn, and gave her a small, reluctant nod.

“Fine,” Vi said, quietly. “Later.”

The Gauntlet touched down with a low rumble, its landing struts kicking up dust and sending leaves and startled birds scattering into the thick, wet air. The humidity struck Vi like an open-hand slap as soon as the ramp lowered. She made a face as she followed Mel down the ramp onto the moss-slick landing pad nestled on this island. The air buzzed with unseen insects and the distant chatter of wildlife. Waiting for them, at the far end of the pad, stood five Enforcers in dark blue armor, weapons holstered, but Vi didn’t need weapons drawn to feel on edge. The sight of the Enforcer insignias alone was enough. Still, she trusted Mel, the woman had earned that much.

“Marcus,” Mel greeted, pleasant and composed as ever, as she approached the lead officer.

The man didn’t respond right away, he was still staring wide-eyed at Vi’s ship. “This…” he breathed, as if he wasn’t quite sure it was real. “This is your crew? You’re… you’re with The Gauntlet?”

Vi stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes hard. “That a problem?”

Marcus blinked. He forced his eyes off the ship and onto her, then offered a polite, almost sheepish smile. “No, of course not. It’s just…” he shook his head. “That ship’s a legend. I’ve heard stories going back to the Restoration War.”

“The Revolution,” Vi corrected sharply.

Mel threw her a look, a silent not now, before redirecting the conversation smoothly.

“If your men could brief us on Smeech’s most recent movements,” she said, voice even, “we’ll be in and out. You’ll have your yordle and we’ll have our credits.”

Marcus nodded quickly, eager to move on. “Right. Of course. This way.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The crew moved through the shantytown in a slow, deliberate formation. Boots scuffed against the dirt road, weapons drawn, eyes sharp. The town was a patchwork of scrap metal, warped wood, and rusted piping, tangled together to form some semblance of housing. The locals kept their heads down, their eyes averted. No one said a word. That was just fine with Vi. Mel, of course, was never one to let silence linger.

“We’re not here to disrupt your lives,” she called out clearly, walking with poise at the center of their loose formation. “We’re looking for one individual. A yordle named Smeech. Cooperate, and—”

She didn’t get to finish that sentence as the world detonated around them.

A thunderous crack split the air as the ground heaved, throwing them all off their feet. Dust and debris exploded skyward. Caitlyn cried out as she hit the ground hard beside Vi. Then came the roar. The mountains surrounding the town began to fall. The cliffs crumbled, sheets of rock tumbled toward the town.

Vi didn’t think. She grabbed Caitlyn by the collar and hauled her off the ground, dragging her toward the nearest alley as a wall of stone and dirt came screaming down behind them. They rounded the corner, and Vi pinned Caitlyn against the wall, shielding her from the incoming debris.

The impact hit seconds later, metal crushed like tin, wood splintered, and a cloud of dust swallowed the town, but they were alive, for now. 

“You okay?” Vi wheezed, pushing herself off Caitlyn and coughing dust out of her lungs.

Caitlyn winced, checking herself over with a few pokes and prods. “A few bruises. Nothing life-threatening.” Her voice was hoarse. “You?”

“Feels like I just ate a dirt sandwich.” Vi grimaced, spitting to the side. “But yeah, peachy.”

They both turned toward the alley’s mouth. What had been a rough but standing town was now a twisted mess of shattered buildings and jagged stone. A wall of debris loomed where the main street used to be, impossible to conquer by foot. 

Vi thumbed her communicator. “Powder? You hear me? Powder, come in.”

A crackle. Then coughing. “Yeah, shit, we’re okay. You and Mongoose alright?”

Vi blinked. “Mongoose?”

Caitlyn sighed. “Don’t.”

“Yeah, we’re good. But I don’t think we’re meeting up any time soon.” Vi scanned the wreckage, her eyes narrowing. “Looks like the island was split right in half with the avalanche.”

Jayce’s voice buzzed in. “You wanna regroup at the Gauntlet?”

Vi shook her head as she and Caitlyn carefully stepped out of cover. “Nah. Smeech knows we’re here now. Let’s not give him time to escape.”

She glanced west, toward another cluster of buildings in the distance, still barely standing despite the detonation and its aftermath.

“We’ll take the west side,” she said. “You and the others cover the east. We’ll eventually box him in.”

“You got it,” Powder crackled through the communicator. “Be careful, guys.”

Vi gave a short nod. “You too.”

She slipped on her displacement gloves, exhaled, and punched them together. A satisfying surge of energy flared to life with a sharp crack. 

Good. Still working.

“Well,” Caitlyn muttered, brushing dirt off her jacket, “at least one of us is armed.”

Vi’s eyes drifted over the debris, then paused. A faint metallic glint peeked out from the rubble. She grinned. “Today might be your lucky day, Cupcake.”

She knelt, digging through loose rock, dirt, and warped metal until her hand found a solid grip. With a grunt of effort, she pulled it free, Caitlyn’s rifle. She tossed it to her. Caitlyn caught it with practiced ease, immediately inspecting the chamber, sight, and fusion cell. Still glowing, still intact. She shouldered it with a nod of approval.

“Good to go.”

Vi cracked her neck. “Alright, then.”

She looked off at the cluster of buildings in the distance,

“Let’s go yordle hunting.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi and Caitlyn moved cautiously through the crumbling buildings, eyes sharp, muscles tense. They’d survived one trap already. Vi wasn’t about to trust their luck twice.

“Anything?” Vi asked, glancing at Caitlyn.

She shook her head, peering through her rifle scope. “Just a couple pissed-off gulls and a hell of a lot of dust.”

“Keep sharp. Last thing we need is another surprise.”

“Mmm,” came a familiar voice from above. “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

The two spun around quickly, Caitlyn’s rifle aimed high, and Vi’s fists clenched. A figure dropped from the rooftop of a nearby shack with effortless grace, and far too much confidence.

“Violet,” Sarah cooed, red hair catching the light. Her gaze slid to Caitlyn. “Oh. Oh, this is delicious.”

Caitlyn’s aim didn’t waver. Every fiber of her being remembered the way she’d been trapped in that cell aboard The Syren. Her finger twitched on the trigger.

Vi stared her old flame down. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t let her pull the trigger.”

“I’m not sure you could stop me,” Caitlyn muttered.

Sarah smirked. “And ruin this pretty face?” She glanced between the two of them. “Fine. How about this? I think we’re after the same mangy, mechanical little yordle.”

Vi’s brow furrowed. “Marcus hired you too?”

Sarah nodded with a shrug. “The US wants him pretty badly it would seem. Wouldn’t be shocked if they hired more than just us.

“Would’ve been nice if Marcus mentioned that,” Vi muttered.

“Aww, are your feelings hurt?” Sarah pouted dramatically.

“I think you’re forgetting about the rifle still pointed at your head,” Vi warned.

Sarah glanced toward Caitlyn, unfazed. “Please. I’m a non-combatant. Your little flavor of the month isn’t going to shoot me in cold blood.”

“Not like you,” Caitlyn said coolly.

Sarah stepped toward her. “Well, I’m not the soft-hearted doctor here, am I?”

Vi rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Sarah?”

“Simple,” Sarah said. “Bag the rat, get paid, head to Ixtal, and find a pretty girl to celebrate with. So why don’t we work together? Split the bounty fifty-fifty, and we all walk away smiling.”

Vi had to admit, she didn’t love their odds if they ran into Smeech before regrouping with the others. She’d seen what he could do in that security footage. The idea burned under her skin like a toxin, but they needed all the help they could get.

Her eyes flicked to Caitlyn, whose rifle was still fixed on the pirate. “Cait,” she said softly.

Reluctantly, Caitlyn looked at her, Vi, her captain. The woman she trusted implicitly. The woman she cared for more than she should. Her features softened, just barely. Finally, she nodded and lowered the rifle.

“Seventy-thirty,” Vi said, turning back to Sarah.

“Sixty-forty,” Sarah countered.

“Eighty-twenty,” Vi said flatly. “And it only gets worse from here.”

Sarah sighed, hand on her heart. “You always were a selfish lover.” She tilted her head, thinking it over. “Fine. Eighty-twenty.”

She looked back at Caitlyn with a smirk. “No hard feelings, right, Sweetheart?” She reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

Caitlyn grabbed her wrist before she could make contact. Hard. “Try to touch me again, and you’ll lose the hand.”

Sarah withdrew, more amused than offended. “I suppose that answers my question.”

“Enough,” Vi cut in. “Let’s just find Smeech, finish the job, and get as far away from each other as possible.” 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The three moved through the shattered remains of the town, weapons up, every corner and rooftop under scrutiny. It was quiet, well, it would have been quiet, if not for the pirate running her mouth.

“So, Caitlyn!” Sarah chirped far too cheerfully. “Settling in alright on The Gauntlet?”

Caitlyn didn’t answer, her eyes scanning a nearby window.

“Oh come on,” Sarah pressed. “You’ve gotta be in my old quarters, right? The good cabin, right next to the kitchen, extra storage space?”

Caitlyn kept her expression neutral, but a knot twisted in her stomach. That was indeed her room, and evidently, it had been Sarah’s once.

“Though, truthfully?” Sarah leaned in. “I spent more time in the captain’s quarters than my own.”

Caitlyn’s grip tightened on her rifle.

“Sarah, shut the fuck up and keep your eyes up ahead.” Vi sighed. 

“Violet never bothered to mention you were part of the crew,” Caitlyn muttered.

Sarah gasped dramatically, eyes wide as she looked to Vi. “My love! Is that true?”

“Nothing worth telling her about, Sarah,” Vi said, eyes forward, voice clipped. “I made the mistake of throwing in with a fucking pirate, and I’ve got a scar on my back to prove it.”

“Oh, don’t be cruel,” Sarah pouted. “We both know I left plenty more marks on your back than just that one.”

“Sarah…” Vi groaned

“And those ones were so much more fun.”

“Sarah.”

“Tell me, Caitlyn, does Violet let you play rough, or is she—”

Caitlyn didn’t let her finish. She grabbed Sarah by her jacket and slammed her into the side of a shack, cracking the wood with the force of the impact. Her hand twisted into the pirate’s collar.

Sarah’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened. “Well, well. Gone is the scared little doctor crying in my holding cell for a week, hmm?”

Caitlyn bit the inside of her cheek, hard. She wanted to hit her. God, she wanted to hit her. But instead, she leaned in close, tightening her grip on Sarah.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

She shoved away from her, adjusting her rifle as she moved on.

Sarah blinked, genuinely surprised for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “Temper, temper.” Still grinning, she dusted herself off and followed.

“Sarah, if you’re done pissing her off, get up ahead and check that crossroad. I don’t like the look of—”

A mechanical whir sliced through the silence, followed by a blur of motion. Vi flinched back just in time, a blade missing her throat by inches.

“Shit!” she exhaled, hands shooting up on instinct.

Caitlyn and Sarah raised their weapons in unison.

Standing in front of them was a hunched, heavily modified yordle. Pockmarked fur, jagged cybernetic limbs, beady yellow eyes that glowed with rage, and a mouthful of crooked teeth the same sickly shade.

“Shoulda died in that blast,” he snarled, voice like broken glass. “Now I get to make it hurt.”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. She raised her pistol and fired at one of the yordle’s limbs.

Smeech didn’t even flinch. His mechanical arm twisted, reshaping into a vicious rotating blade that deflected the beam mid-air. It spun off wildly, right toward Vi.

“Jesus!” Vi shouted, ducking as it burned past her.

Sarah’s eyes lit up, half amused, half impressed. “Alright, Vi. This one’s all yours.”

Vi shot her a glare. “Helpful as ever, Fortune.” She turned back to the yordle, her displacement gloves flaring to life with a crack as she brought her fists up.

“Come here, you little shit.”

The blur of fuzz and metal launched at Vi with a guttural snarl.

She leapt back, just in time, once again feeling the breeze off a spinning blade that missed her throat by inches. She ducked, rolled, narrowly avoiding a second strike. Every move he made was a blur of teeth, steel, and speed.

Vi had watched the footage. She’d hoped the grainy security feed had somehow exaggerated his speed. Maybe it had been glitchy. Maybe someone had sped it up. Nope. If anything, the footage hadn’t done the freak justice. She tried to keep in mind what Caitlyn had said in the briefing. 

“If we can keep him busy, make him burn out his own system, he’ll have to slow down.”

It had seemed like a tall enough order the moment she’d given it, but now? Vi wasn’t sure how long she could do this. He was fast, terrifyingly fast. She didn’t scare easy, but this thing had her heart pounding in her ears.

And then it got worse.

Gunfire erupted from the rooftops, rapid, concentrated bursts of plasma slamming into the ground around them. Caitlyn and Sarah dove for cover as beams scorched the earth where they'd just been standing. 

Of course Smeech hadn’t come alone.

He caught it, the flicker of alarm in her eyes, and let out a low, guttural laugh. “You wanna start begging yet?” he growled, blade-arm spinning as he lunged. Vi ducked under the strike, and the blade slammed into the shack wall behind her with a crunch, tearing into wood and metal. Smeech grunted, yanking, twisting to get his arm free, but he was stuck, at least, for the moment.

That moment was all Vi needed. No hesitation. She surged forward, displacement gloves igniting with a pulse of kinetic light. Her fist connected with his exposed side. 

BOOM.

Smeech flew until he crashed through crates, rubble, and a stack of rusted piping, landing in a heap of fur and sparks. The air filled with dust and static. And when he staggered back to his feet, wobbling, furious, something was missing. His arm was still buried in the ruined shack wall, twitching, useless. Blood poured from the torn socket.

Vi straightened up, flexing her fingers in her gloves. “Not really the begging type.”

Smeech stared at the gushing socket where his arm used to be, then lifted his gaze to Vi, eyes burning with rage. He let out a snarl, feral and sharp, and launched himself at her again, spinning his remaining blade-arm. Vi moved quickly, ducking under a horizontal swipe, twisting past a follow-up slash that sliced the air inches from her ribs.

Around them, chaos ensued. Gunfire cracked from above, beams of energy lighting up the dusty street as Caitlyn and Sarah traded shots with the rooftop shooters. A shout, a body falling. The hiss of overheating plasma. One by one, Smeech’s men were dropping, bleeding into the wood and stone.

The shots from above came fewer, quieter. The tide was turning, and Vi could feel it. “You’re slowing down,” she taunted, voice breathless but steady.

Smeech spat blood and grinned, madness dancing in his yellow eyes. “Still fast enough to carve my name into your corpse.”

He slashed again, Vi moved in time, but her foot caught on a jagged board beneath her. She stumbled. Her hand shot out, catching her weight, but not fast enough, because Smeech saw his opportunity and took it. He struck, and the blade tore through leather, then flesh.

“Fuck!” Vi cried out, hitting the ground hard. Pain flared hot across her back. Smeech was on her instantly, blade already coming down toward her face. She caught his arm with both hands, muscles straining as she fought off the cybernetics, the razor’s edge spinning just inches above her skin.

“Gonna be a closed casket,” Smeech hissed, his voice sick and smug, breath reeking of blood and something rotten.

The blade inched closer. Closer.

”And that’s assuming they even find enough of you to put in one.” He laughed with psychotic glee.

Vi’s arms trembled. Her strength was slipping—

CRACK.

A blue bolt sizzled through the air, slamming into the base of Smeech’s augmented shoulder. The joint sparked and buckled with a mechanical shriek. He fell back in pain, and Vi seized the moment. She hurried to her feet, and planted a boot squarely on Smeech’s chest. With both hands, she grabbed the mechanical limb, and ripped. Smeech screamed as the metal tore free from his body, wires snapping like tendons. Vi hurled the dismembered blade aside, breathing hard. The creature was armless. Bloody. Defenseless.

Chest heaving, Vi turned toward the source of the shot. Of course, it was Caitlyn. Her rifle was lowered now, still glowing faintly at the barrel, a whisper of steam curling from the vent. Their eyes met across the aftermath of the chaos. Vi gave a short nod. Caitlyn returned it. 

Sarah, leaning against what was left of a wall, let out a low whistle. “Well, damn. Who knew the doctor was a decent shot?”

“She’s our chief science officer,” Vi corrected without looking away from Caitlyn. “And she’s an excellent shot.”

That softened Caitlyn’s face, just a touch, but it was there. Not just from the words, but the weight behind them. It didn’t last long, as her expression shifted again, this time to concern, her eyes going to the blood trailing from Vi’s back.

“How bad is it?” she asked as she hurried to her side.

Vi winced as she straightened up. “Doesn’t tickle,” she muttered. “But I’ll live. We’ll deal with it back on the ship.”

And then, without ceremony, she reached down and yanked the mangled yordle upright. Smeech groaned, sagging in her grip.

“In the meantime,” Vi growled, “do whatever you need to do to keep this piece of shit breathing.”

Caitlyn nodded, already pulling a gel pack from her medkit and applying it to Smeech’s wounds with brisk efficiency. The yordle hissed in pain.

“These won’t do much,” she muttered, “but it’ll keep him alive long enough to hand over to the Enforcers.”

“Enforcers, huh?” Smeech wheezed with a bitter chuckle. “I finally made it big. What’re they paying you to bring me in? Twenty, thirty thousand? For the infamous Smeech?”

Vi scoffed. “Try five, ‘Infamous Smeech’.”

The yordle groaned, a mix of pain and wounded pride. “Fuck me…”

“Yeah, fuck you,” Vi muttered, thumbing her communicator. “Powder, you there?”

Static, then a frantic voice burst through: “Vi?! Jesus, we heard gunfire and then nothing, are you okay?”

“Oh!” Sarah cut in brightly. “You brought the jinx! That explains everything.”

Vi’s head snapped toward her. “Don’t fucking call her that.”

There was a long pause on the line.

“...Vi?” Powder’s voice came back, low and dangerous.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me I didn’t just hear who I think I heard.”

Vi let out a tired sigh. “Wish I could. Looks like Marcus didn’t trust one crew to get the job done.”

“And she’s still breathing because…?”

“She helped me and Cait take down this little bastard, ” Vi answered reluctantly.

“Wait, holy shit, you got Smeech?” Powder asked excitedly.

“Yeah. Let the others know and head back to the Gauntlet. Tell Marcus he’s alive, and we’re on our way.”

“See you soon, my little Ji—”

SMACK.

The sound echoed like a gunshot. Sarah staggered back, hand flying to her cheek. She looked up in shock to see Caitlyn towering over her, calm as ever.

“She told you not to call her sister that,” Caitlyn said coolly. Then, without another word, she turned and resumed tending to Smeech.

The ruined shanty town was silent for a moment, none of them sure how to react to what had just happened. Then, of course, Powder broke the silence. 

“…Did Caitlyn just slap the shit out of Sarah?”

Vi cleared her throat. “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

Powder’s laugh crackled through the speaker. “God damn, that was a clean slap. I heard it through the communicator. Thanks, Caitlyn! But next time, just go for the kill!”

”That was plan A but your sister wasn't a fan.” Caitlyn muttered. 

Vi rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at her mouth. “See you soon, Pow.”

She tucked the communicator away, eyes following the low roar of engines overhead. A trio of Unified Systems ships cut through the sky, their hulls gleaming in the sunlight. She raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” she muttered, grabbing Smeech by the scruff and shoving him forward, “looks like your fan club just touched down. Let’s not keep ’em waiting.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

After nearly half an hour of navigating mountain after mountain of rubble, the terrain finally started to look familiar. Vi nodded to herself. “This is where we came in. The Gauntlet should be just—”

“I told you, you fucking idiot, Vi and Caitlyn are dead.” Powder’s voice exploded through the communicator, angry, venomous. Vi instinctively moved to answer, but her sister pressed on. “They were killed in the blast. We came back for help. Should’ve known better than to trust a bunch of fucking Enforcers.”

Vi’s blood ran cold. Powder was sending a message, a warning. They’d been sold out.

Vi clenched her jaw. She should’ve known. The way Marcus had stared at The Gauntlet. He wasn’t awe struck, his eyes were just fixed on a much bigger score. She reached for her gloves, sliding them on with practiced urgency. “We’ve gotta help,” she muttered.

But before she could move, Powder’s voice crackled again. “What is this, huh? Thirty of you, all for one little crew? What, we scare you that bad?”

Shit.

Caitlyn’s voice was low, firm. “We try anything, and they’re dead.”

Vi knew she was right. They were outmanned and outgunned. 

“C’mon, Pow,” she muttered under her breath, eyes locked on the communicator. “Keep talking…”

“Tryndamere Prison?!” Powder’s voice rang through again, incredulous. “You’re taking us to Freljord?! Don’t you have actual criminals to send to that frozen hellhole?”

Vi’s stomach dropped. Her mouth went dry.  “Freljord,” she whispered to herself. “Fucking Freljord.”

Smeech chuckled, low and cruel. “Folks don’t last long on Freljord,” he said smugly. “If the inmates don’t get you, the cold will. Your friends are fucked.”

Vi turned and grabbed the yordle by the throat with one gloved hand, the whine of displacement energy humming to life.

“One more word,” she growled, “and I’ll—“

But before she could finish the threat, a new voice crackled sharply. This time, it came from Sarah’s communicator

 “Fortune, this is Marcus. Change of target. Forget the yordle. Have you seen Violet Lanes or Caitlyn Kiramman? They’re worth a hell of a lot more than him.”

Vi’s heart lurched. Her eyes locked on Sarah, one hand holding her communicator, the other leveling a pistol, its sights fixed on Vi.

“Sarah…” she said, voice low, urgent. Pleading.

“Violet,” Sarah replied smoothly, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, isn’t this dramatic?”

“Sarah, please…” Vi stepped forward, tension in every muscle.

Caitlyn’s scowl was ice. “If you don’t help us, my mother will—”

Sarah turned the pistol on her instead. “Pretty sure Mommy isn’t on Team Caitlyn anymore, sweetheart.”

Vi cut back in, desperate now. “Sarah, come on, please, for once, do the right fucking thing.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Funny how ‘the right thing’ always happens to be whatever helps you, Violet. What’s that about?”

“Fortune, do you hear me?” Marcus’ voice crackled over the communicator. “Do you have eyes on Lanes or Kiramman?”

Vi didn’t flinch. She met Sarah’s eyes. “You’ve fucked me over more than enough, Sarah. Remember Ionia?”

Sarah’s smile dropped. Just a fraction. “Still playing that card?”

Vi stepped closer. “I’ll play it as many times as I have to for you to make it right. You don’t owe me. You owe Powder.”

That landed. Sarah’s nose scrunched, her expression twisting into annoyance, guilt, something in between. It all quickly faded as she composed herself. She brought the communicator to her lips.

“No visual,” she said, her voice suddenly flat. “That blast likely killed them both. But I’ve got the rat. I’ll be expecting my payment.”

“Alive?” Marcus asked.

Sarah didn’t hesitate. She turned and shot Smeech clean through the skull. His body crumpled to the dirt.

“He was worth enough dead,” she muttered, “see you soon.” She turned her communicator off once again.

Vi stared at the body, stunned. “You—” she started, but Sarah cut her off.

“He would’ve sold you out anyway.” She pointed across the horizon. “His ship’s tucked away by the harbor, south end of the island. Looks like shit, but it’ll probably get you Freljord.

Vi swallowed hard. “Thank you… Sarah.”

Sarah gave a smirk. “No more guilt trips about Ionia?”

Vi locked eyes with her. “We’re square.”

Sarah nodded once. “Well, good luck, ladies.”

Without another word, Vi and Caitlyn turned, heading toward the harbor and whatever sorry excuse for a ship would bring them to Freljord. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

It hadn’t taken long to find Smeech’s ship. Sarah had been right, it was an outdated, half-rusted pile of scrap, which for once, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Old ship meant old systems. And old systems meant easy security bypasses for Vi. Within minutes of watching the last of the Unified Systems ships disappear into the clouds, taking her Gauntlet with them, they made their move.

They broke from the treeline without a word, twigs cracking beneath their boots as they sprinted for the ship. Vi’s hands flew across the access panel, prying open the rusted casing and manually rerouting the lock. A few sparks, a soft hiss, and the door opened with a groan that echoed across the empty harbor. It was far from ideal, but it flew.

But Vi wasn’t celebrating. She couldn’t. Not while her crew—her family—was being dragged to a frozen hellscape in chains. She paced the cramped captain’s quarters like a storm that could barely be contained, muttering to herself as her boots echoed off the metal floor.

“We’ve gotta get them back,” she breathed, her hands running through her hair, tugging like she could pull the panic out by the roots. “I’ll tear that fucking prison apart with my bare hands if I have to.”

“Vi—”

“I’ve got a contact. Babette. She and her girls know everything about everything. She’ll know how to crack Tryndamere wide open. She has to.”

“Vi—”

“And when I find Marcus, I’m going to break every goddamn—”

“Violet!”

Caitlyn’s voice finally cut through, sharp but not unkind. She reached for Vi, grabbing her arm and spinning her to a stop. She stood still, chest heaving, eyes wild, lost in a dozen plans she hadn’t even made yet. Caitlyn studied her face, her heart breaking a little at the way her fierce, unshakable captain looked so... small. She reached out, gently cupping Vi’s face in her hands. Her thumbs brushed over tear tracks Vi hadn’t realized were there.

“Listen to me.” Caitlyn said softly. “We’re going to get them back. Do you hear me? We’re going to fix this.”

Vi’s breathing slowed. Her eyes fluttered shut at the touch. When they opened again, they were glassy but steady. She gave a single, trembling nod. The two stared at each other for a long, quiet moment. This was the closest they’d been in a week. The closest they’d been since that night at The Last Drop. Caitlyn pulled back, just slightly, just enough to reestablish some professional distance. Her hands finally dropped, though they’d stayed longer than they probably needed to.

“But before we start planning a prison break,” she said, voice steadier than she felt, “I need to look at that wound. It’s going to get infected if I don’t treat it.

Vi shrugged. “I’ll live.” But even that simple motion made her flinch, her jaw clenching as the pain flared again.

“Very convincing,” Caitlyn muttered dryly, already reaching into her pack. “Now sit down and stop being difficult.”

With a reluctant sigh, Vi turned her back, sat on the bed, and slowly shrugged off her jacket. The undershirt clung to her wound, and when she peeled it off, it came with a pained groan. Caitlyn’s breath caught, not at the injury, though it was bad, but everything else she was seeing. The tattoo across Vi’s back wasn’t anything that she would have expected. Not a crude mercenary brand, but an intricate piece, sharp lines and sweeping arcs that told a story of pain and purpose. But more than that, it was the sheer cut of her form. Every muscle of hers was carved from years of fights, some wins and some losses, but above all else, defiant survival. She felt as though she was a critic gazing upon a priceless work of art. And like all refined art critics, only two words came to her mind as she took in this masterpiece. 

Holy shit.

“You gonna keep staring, or are you planning on fixing it?” Vi muttered over her shoulder. 

Caitlyn blinked, cheeks flushing. She cleared her throat and pulled out the antiseptic. “Hold still. This is probably going to sting.”

Sure enough, as Caitlyn began to treat the wound, Vi made her displeasure known. “Fuck,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” Caitlyn said softly, dabbing gently at the torn skin with antiseptic. The gash was deep, Smeech had made sure of that. She worked carefully, steadily, trying not to let her hands shake. But, god, the feeling of Vi’s skin beneath her fingertips, the heat, the muscles, it was almost enough to undo her entirely. Every inch of this woman was what Caitlyn had been trying not to want for months, and she certainly couldn’t want it right now.

Still, her eyes wandered. She couldn’t help it. And that’s when she saw it, a scar on Vi’s lower back. It was older, smaller than Smeech’s parting gift, but meaner somehow. Her fingers brushed over it before she could stop herself.

“Was this Sarah?” she asked gently.

Vi didn’t answer right away. Caitlyn could hear her take a long, slow breath, could see the way her shoulders tensed at the question

“Sorry,” Caitlyn said quickly, reaching for the suturing kit. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No. You’re fine,” Vi muttered, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s from her.”

“Ionia?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. Ionia.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Eighteen months earlier…

“Vi, hurry the fuck up!” Sarah shouted over her shoulder, her boots kicking up dust as they tore through the winding alleys of the Ionian city. “You hear those alarms? The authorities are going to be on our asses any second. We have to get back to the ship now!”

Vi staggered behind her, supporting Powder’s weight over her shoulder as they limped forward. “What the hell do you want me to do, Sarah?” Vi snapped, rage and panic battling in her voice. “Her fucking ankle’s broken!”

Powder whimpered in pain, her arm clutching Vi’s neck tightly. 

“I don’t care!” Sarah yelled. “If we don’t get off this planet, we’re gonna be rotting in a goddamn cell!”

“So what?” Vi shot back, her voice cracking with fury. “You wanna leave her behind? Not happening.”

Sarah threw her arms up in frustration. “I knew we shouldn’t have brought her! This job was simple enough for two, clean in, clean out. We’d already be off-world if—”

“Yeah, well we’re not,” Vi cut her off, adjusting her grip on Powder. “So either help me, or walk. I don’t give a shit.”

Something flickered across Sarah’s face. Her expression shifted, lips pressing into a tight line, eyes narrowing in quiet calculation. Vi should’ve caught it. Any other time, she would have, but not now. Not with Powder crying out in pain, her ankle shattered, blood trickling down her temple.

“Alright, Violet,” Sarah said finally, voice soft, almost resigned. “Let me take the bag.”

Vi hesitated just a second, then nodded. She crouched, easing Powder against the stone wall before turning to shrug the heavy satchel from her shoulder.

That’s when it hit.

A sudden, searing pain exploded through her lower back, white-hot and paralyzing. She staggered forward, the breath ripped from her lungs.

“Vi!” Powder screamed.

Vi whirled around, unsteady, eyes already blurring at the edges. Sarah stood in front of her, the bag in one hand, a blood-slicked dagger in the other. Her face wasn’t triumphant. It wasn’t even angry.

It was…sad.

“It didn’t have to go this way, Violet.” Sarah’s voice was nearly a whisper.

Vi’s knees buckled. She dropped to the ground, one hand pressed to her back, coming away wet and red. “Sarah…” she whispered, breathless and broken. Then everything tilted, and she collapsed.

Enraged, Powder reached for her guns, but before her fingers could even graze the triggers, Sarah was already on her. A quick strike sent the weapons skittering across the ground, vanishing into the darkness. Then came the grip, vice-like fingers wrapping around Powder’s jaw, pulling her toward Sarah, forcing her face up until they were eye to eye.

“This is your fault,” Sarah hissed through clenched teeth. “Do you hear me? Every fucking time, it’s your fault. After Noxus, I said it. And I’ll say it again now, you’re a goddamn jinx.”

“Sarah…” Powder whimpered, her voice cracked and barely audible.

But Sarah wasn’t listening. Her eyes were wild with rage, yet there was something broken behind them, something close to grief. “You should’ve died when you went back to Noxus,” she spat. “We’d all be better off.”

With that, she shoved Powder hard. The girl hit the wall with a dull thud and slid down beside her sister, curling her body protectively around Vi’s still form. Her sobs came in broken waves as she held Vi close, tears streaking down her dirt-smeared face. Sarah didn’t look back. Whether she couldn’t or wouldn’t, no one could say. She simply slung the bag over her shoulder and vanished into the night, leaving the sisters broken, bleeding, and alone in the dark. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“My god…” Caitlyn whispered once Vi finished recounting the memory. The stitches were long done, but neither of them had moved. “Vi… I’m so sorry.”

Vi shook her head. “I was fine. You get stabbed, you get sold out. It comes with the job.” Her eyes drifted, staring into some far-off corner of the ship. “But Powder…” Her voice faltered. “She was never the same after that.”

She pulled her shirt back over her shoulders, wincing slightly. “Took her to a dozen doctors. Tried all the meds in the system until we found something that helped. But even then…” She turned back to Caitlyn, softer now. “She’s still so scared, Cait.”

Caitlyn stood in stunned silence as the weight of it settled in. Suddenly, Powder, this twitchy, sharp-tongued girl who, until a week ago, couldn’t stand the sight of her, made perfect sense. The guardedness, the volatility, the way she only seemed to really trust Vi, Ekko, and Isha. It wasn’t stubbornness. It was survival. Caitlyn’s heart ached for the girl, and for the sister who’d never stopped trying to keep her whole.

“I still don’t really know how she got me out of there,” Vi said with a soft, humorless laugh. “Powder won’t talk about it, and I won’t ask. But she went through hell to keep me safe.” Her voice tightened. “And now…”

She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw, fighting the tears threatening to escape again.

Caitlyn reached out, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing just enough to ground her. “Now you get to return the favor.”

Vi opened her eyes again, now looking into Caitlyn’s. There it was, a sense of calm she desperately needed. A sense of purpose that brought her focus back. She nodded.

“Let’s go see Babette.”

Chapter Text

Vi didn’t trust many people. She liked even fewer. But Babette? Babette made the cut. The yordle had been a fixture of her childhood. She was sharp-tongued, wild-eyed, and impossible to forget. A close friend of Vander’s, Babette had been something of a chaotic aunt, the kind who taught Vi every foul word in the galaxy and how to lift a man’s wallet without him noticing. Vander disapproved, of course, but only so much. He knew Vi was safe with her. Mostly.

Vi had been relieved beyond words when she learned Babette hadn’t been anywhere near Targon the day everything changed. The day of The Glassing. A single mercy granted by the universe. One piece of her life she’d always been able to return to on the days when she needed guidance most. 

Today was one such day.

“Vi! My sweet girl!”

The moment the beaded curtain to the office parted, Babette darted forward like a shot before Vi could so much as greet her. She grinned and knelt to catch her in a tight embrace. “Hey, Babs, how are you? Everyone treating your girls right?”

“Oh, I’ve been fine, but now?” Babette pulled back and pinched Vi’s cheeks. “Now I’m fantastic! Look at you!” She gave Vi’s biceps an affectionate squeeze. “You’re still growing, I swear.” Her eyes moved past Vi and landed squarely on Caitlyn. She gasped. “And who are you? Oh, Vi, honey, she’s gorgeous.”

Caitlyn froze in place, color rushing to her cheeks. “Oh, I—um—I’m—”

“Babette,” Vi cut in, trying not to sound panicked, “this is Doctor Kiramman. She’s The Gauntlet’s Chief Science Officer.”

Babette’s eyes widened. “Kiramman? You brought The Chairwoman’s daughter into my—?”

“Rest assured, I have no association with my mother apart from the name.” Caitlyn cut in gently, her hands raised. It was a reaction she was all too used to at this point. That damned name was following her like a brand on her skin. 

“She’s just as on the run as I am,” Vi added. “She’s been solid, been working with her for months now.”

Babette sighed and shook her head. “You and your choice in women, kid.”

“Babs!” Vi’s eyes widened, “she’s part of the crew!”

“Oh,” Babette looked between them with a disappointed frown. “So, you’re not—”

“No,” Vi said, too fast. Way too fast. Caitlyn’s blush deepened. That was... surprisingly irritating.

Babette clicked her tongue and gave a thoughtful little shrug. “Mm. Shame.” She moved on quickly, her bright expression returning. “Now, where’s my baby Powder?”

Vi took a long breath. “That’s… actually why we’re here.”

Babette sighed, already rubbing her temples. “God, what has that girl gotten herself into now? Don’t tell me she tried to ‘liberate’ another animal shelter. I am not about to smuggle another—”

“What can you tell me about Tryndamere?” Vi cut in.

The words landed like a brick. Babette’s entire expression changed. Her eyes widened. “Tryndamere?” she echoed, voice suddenly quiet. “Oh, Vi. Sweetheart, tell me you’re not going anywhere near Freljord.”

Vi nodded firmly. “My crew’s been taken there, Powder included. There’s no other option.”

Babette closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose. “Vi…”

“I know what I’m asking for is insane,” Vi said. “But we're going after them, with or without a plan. If you want to help me and Doctor Kiramman here avoid wandering around until we freeze to death on that ice ball, I’d appreciate it.”

Babette ran her hands down her face, muttering something under her breath. “You kids are gonna be the death of me, I swear to god.” She was quiet for a moment, then nodded, resigned. “Fine. Come with me.” 

She turned on her heel and led them through another beaded curtain toward the back of her establishment. With one last glance behind them, she ushered the pair into her back office, shut the door, and turned the lock. 

“Before I even get into this,” Babette said firmly, leveling a finger at both of them, “I need to make it very clear, this is a terrible idea, kids.”

“Babs,” Vi leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow, “if I wanted a good idea, do you think I’d be asking an old woman in the back office of a brothel?”

“Smart ass.” Babette muttered under her breath, but a hint of affection found its way through.

She dimmed the lights, tapped quickly at her datapad, and a hologram flickered to life from the table in front of them—a cold, ugly slab of concrete, embedded deep in a jagged ice cliff.

“Tryndamere is a total blacksite prison. Almost no off-world comms. One way in, one way out. No weak points, no forgotten tunnels, no exhaust vents for the good guys to escape through.” She tapped again, and the display shifted—a railcar system stretching on a single line over a bottomless chasm toward the mouth of the prison.

“This,” Babette pointed, “is your way in. The railcar. Prisoner intake, cargo shipments, guard rotations… everything funnels through there.”

“So we hitch a ride in…” Vi mused, already working through the angles in her head.

Babette shook her head quickly. “Not that simple, kiddo. The railcar station? It’s locked down tighter than a Piltie’s—” she caught herself, wincing as she shot Caitlyn an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

Caitlyn shrugged and shook her head. “How would you suggest we get through?”

Babette smirked. “How attached are you to that pile of scrap metal you showed up in?”  

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“This is such a bad idea!” Caitlyn shouted over the screaming, freezing winds of Freljord, her voice nearly lost to the roar outside the open cargo bay doors. The frozen wasteland stretched endlessly beneath them, blinding and brutal.

Vi was inclined to agree. But between the two of them, somebody had to at least pretend they weren’t about to get themselves killed.

“Not sure there’s any good idea that involves breaking into a US prison!” Vi yelled back. She checked her own gear once more. The propulsion pack was secured tight across her back, her gear bag strapped snugly across her chest. Then she turned to Caitlyn, tugging at the fastenings on her suit, double-checking every strap, every clip, every loose buckle.

“Flight path’s set. We’re about thirty seconds from popping up on Tryndamere’s anti-air scanners,” Vi called, her voice rough with the cold, but steady. She glanced down at Caitlyn’s hand, tight on her propulsion pack controls, trembling hard enough to rattle the device.

“You good?” Vi asked, trying to sound casual, like this wasn’t completely insane.

Caitlyn nodded, but her posture and movements betrayed her. Vi could see the rapid rising and falling with each breath under all of the layers. She could see how her hands nervously fidgeted. She was terrified, and Vi didn’t need to see her face underneath the mask and goggles to know it.

“Hey!” Vi squeezed Caitlyn’s hand, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. Caitlyn’s attention turned to her. “You’ve got this!” Vi shouted over the roaring wind. “Just like a space walk!”

“Right!” Caitlyn called back, forcing herself to believe it. “A space walk… just... with gravity… and wind… and snow… and—”

“Now!” Vi yelled, pulling her as the two of them leapt into the white void.

For a terrifying moment, Caitlyn was weightless, flailing as she free-fell through the frozen sky. The surface of Freljord was rushing toward her far too fast. Her stomach turned, her throat closed, panic locking her limbs.

“Cait! The pack! Use the pack!” Vi’s voice crackled through the communicator in her ear.

Right. The propulsion pack. The controls. Now.

Her gloved fingers wrapped around the controls as she forced the emergency thrusters to fire. The jolt nearly ripped her shoulders out of socket, but she stabilized, barely, as the sea of white rushed up to meet her. She hit the snow hard. Hard enough to knock the wind out of her, soft enough that nothing broke. The lack of broken bones was hardly what she was thinking about as a weak groan escaped her.

Vi, naturally, landed like she’d done this a hundred times. The captain shed her propulsion pack with a shrug and crossed the snow in a few easy strides, extending a hand. “You alright, Cupcake?”

Caitlyn stared up at her for a moment, still reeling from the landing. Before she could answer, a distant explosion cracked through the sky. Smeech’s ship spiraled toward the ice plains, smoke billowing behind it, just like they planned. 

Vi nodded, satisfied. “Anti-air did its thing. A patrol’s gonna be all over it soon.”

She helped Caitlyn to her feet and scanned the ridgeline. “That slope’s the perfect vantage point. Let’s move.”

Caitlyn shrugged out of the propulsion pack, unzipped her gear bag, and pulled her rifle free. The fusion cell glowed steadily. She double-checked the sights, everything was perfectly calibrated. She zipped the bag, slung it across her back, and fell into step behind Vi.

It was time to go hunting.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The railcar hissed to a stop at the end of the line, the brakes screeching and spitting steam as the doors groaned open, welcoming the new arrivals to Tryndamere. Powder stepped off first, her grip tightening around Isha, holding the little girl firmly against her side. Not just for warmth, though the biting Freljord wind cut through them like razors, but because she was fully prepared to rip the limbs off anyone who dared to try separating them. The guards weren’t subtle about sizing them up. Rifles slung lazily, eyes cold, mechanical drones buzzing overhead like vultures with blinking red lights. Ekko stepped off next, his jaw clenched, following closely behind Powder and Isha, eyes darting every direction, waiting for anyone to try anything. Jayce followed, his fists balled in his cuffs, desperately wishing he could swing at anyone right about now. Mel, as always, wore a mask of calm, her hands clasped neatly in front of her, though her eyes were sharp as razors, calculating every guard, every tower, every possible way out.

Tryndamere Prison loomed ahead, a jagged slab of concrete and steel embedded in the ice, its walls stretching toward the gray sky like it was daring someone to try and climb them. The five of them were herded forward under the cold gaze of the Enforcers. The moment the intake doors clanged shut behind them, the guards descended like wolves.

“Alright, mercs. You’ll be processed one at a time, and assigned cells. The child goes first.”

Powder’s pulse spiked. No. No fucking way. Isha wasn’t going anywhere without her.

“She stays with us.” Her grip on Isha tightened as a guard reached for the girl. “I said no!” Powder snapped, yanking Isha behind her. Another guard moved to grab Ekko. Another reached again for Isha, and instinct took over.

Crack.

Powder’s fist connected hard with the guard’s jaw, the sound was sharp against the silence of the intake room. He dropped like a stone to the cold floor. Rifles shot up. Safeties clicked off. Powder stood tall in front of Isha, heart racing, breath ragged, wild terror in her eyes, but she didn’t move. She didn’t flinch.

“Try to touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you!” she snarled, her voice feral.

“Mel…” Jayce muttered, eyes darting to the barrels pointed at Powder’s head. “Anything?”

Mel’s mind raced. She could see where this was going. Powder wasn’t going to stand down, and these guards had no qualms about gunning down a woman in front of a child. Desperate for something, anything, she locked on to the only thread she could find. Marcus. Guilt was a weak play, but it was all she had.

“Marcus!” she called out sharply. His head snapped toward her.

“Let the three of them stay together! They’re a family, for god’s sake!” She didn’t know if it would land. She didn’t know if he cared. But she had to try.

Marcus hesitated, looking between Mel and the standoff. For a moment, it looked like he might let it all play out. Then he sighed, tired and distant. “Stand down,” he ordered, his voice flat, unreadable. The guards didn’t move.

“Now!” He barked.

Rifles slowly lowered, hesitation still clinging to their movements. Powder didn’t move, didn’t let herself breathe, not until she saw those barrels drop. And even then, her grip on Isha didn’t loosen. Her eyes stayed sharp, darting from guard to guard.

“The three go in together,” Marcus said coldly. “One cell.”

Powder’s grip didn’t loosen until Isha’s little hand slipped its way into hers, warm and certain.

“Yeah,” Powder breathed, her voice trembling but steady enough to spit her next words. “That’s right. One fucking cell.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi and Caitlyn lay flat against the icy ridge, their breaths shallow and controlled as they overlooked the smoking crash site in the valley below. It wouldn’t be long now, a small search team would come poking around to see who or what had been flying unauthorized over Freljord. When they did, the two of them would be ready. Take them out, quick and clean. Grab two uniforms that fit as best as they could, hide the bodies somewhere the elements would do the rest, then head straight for the railcar station. They'd have to hope like hell no one would look twice, no one would question them. No one would notice two guards shivering through another miserable shift.

Once they made it inside? Find the crew, and pull them for "questioning”. Again, move fast, pray no one asked too many questions. Then it would be a straight shot to the impound where The Gauntlet was being held.

That was the plan. Vi's jaw clenched as she stared down at the crash site. It was a terrible plan, just like Babette had warned, but it was the best one they had. Vi glanced away from the crash site, her goggles now resting on her head, mask pulled down. She watched Caitlyn as she remained locked on the wreckage, scanning the perimeter through her rifle’s scope.

“Romantic, isn’t it?” Vi muttered, dry as the ice beneath them.

Caitlyn stiffened. “I—what?” The cold had already turned her cheeks red, but somehow her face felt hotter now.

Vi smirked. “What? This isn’t doing it for you? High stakes, daring rescue, life-or-death situation?” She gave a dramatic sigh. “Bat your eyelashes and I might swoon.”

Caitlyn blinked, opened her mouth to say something, but came up completely empty.

Vi laughed quietly, shaking her head. “God, you’re so easy to fuck with.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes and sank back behind her scope, but her pulse hadn’t settled. Of course this was how Vi handled pressure. Jokes, always jokes, anything to cut through the tension. But that? That was… a hell of a joke to make considering everything they’d left hanging since the Last Drop. Was she doing this on purpose, or was she really that oblivious? Caitlyn wasn’t sure what pissed her off more.

Before she could spiral any further, Vi’s tone shifted. “Movement. Northwest of the wreck.”

Caitlyn quickly snapped her scope to where Vi was signaling, her breath sharp in her chest. Sure enough, five Enforcers in a loose patrol formation, approaching the wreck from opposite angles. Three on the left, two on the right. 

“They’re splitting,” Caitlyn whispered. “Three left, two right.”

“On your shot,” Vi murmured.

Caitlyn’s pulse steadied as she locked onto the trio, her finger resting against the trigger, and just like it always did, her father’s voice filled her head.

“Alright, sweetheart. Exhale. Hold. Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull.”

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Three clean blue bolts tore through the patrol. They collapsed in the snow before they ever knew they were in danger.

Vi’s second target wasn’t so cooperative. She cursed under her breath as one of her shots whiffed, sending the last Enforcer scrambling for cover behind a jagged hunk of metal. She adjusted her aim quickly, ready to fire again—

Crack.

The Enforcer dropped.

Vi lowered her rifle and glared at the source of that perfect-as-ever shot. “I had him.”

“Yeah,” Caitlyn replied dryly, slinging her rifle across her back, “it looked like it.” She began sliding down the icy ridge to the wreck.

Vi scoffed, shaking her head. “I think I liked it better when she was scared of everything,” she muttered to herself as she followed Caitlyn down the ridge. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

With two stolen Enforcer uniforms hastily stuffed into their bags, Vi and Caitlyn pushed through the thickening snow, the wind clawing at them with every step. Their destination: an abandoned communications outpost Babette had marked. Quiet, forgotten, perfect for shedding their gear, changing into the uniforms, and ditching anything that would raise any unwanted Unified Systems attention. For the first time, the plan almost looked like something resembling a plan. 

Almost.

But the storm was getting worse. The wind wasn’t just biting, it was sinking in, wrapped around their bones, burning their lungs. It wanted to linger, it wanted to hurt.

“How the hell do people live here?” Caitlyn shivered, her layers barely helping at this point, her breath fogging with each word she spoke. Her legs burned with every step, her boots dragged heavier in the snow. She was doing her best not to show how completely exhausted she was, but the jump, the hike, the cold… it was adding up.

“They don’t,” Vi grunted, stomping toward a frozen river that cut through their path. She kicked at the ice to make sure it was stable. It felt good. Solid. She nodded. “Come on.”

The river was wide, and relying on it to stay this solid all the way across was a gamble, but crossing it was the only way to get to the outpost. 

“Is the outpost much further?” Caitlyn called as they hit the halfway point across the river, her voice smaller, more tired than she wanted it to be.

Vi paused, checked her datapad, then glanced back at her. “Half a mile tops. We’d probably be able to see it if this fucking snow—”

Crack.

The sound was sharp and all-consuming. They both froze. Their eyes shot down to the spider web of fractures now creeping rapidly under Caitlyn’s feet.

“Oh god…” Caitlyn whispered.

“Cait…” Vi said carefully, forcing her voice to be calm, steady.

Caitlyn’s eyes stayed locked on her boots, on the fractures threatening to pull her below, a black, frozen forever waiting just beneath her feet.

“Caitlyn.” Vi’s voice came sharper now, cutting through the panic.

Her gaze shot up. Violet. Her captain. Vi’s stance was solid, but Caitlyn saw it. Saw past the bravado, past the act. She was scared too.

“Vi…” Caitlyn breathed, her voice trembling, her throat tight.

“I know, Cupcake,” Vi murmured, soft but firm. “I know. Just keep your eyes on me, okay? Can you do that?”

Caitlyn couldn’t speak, but she nodded.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Vi took another step forward, hand out, palm up. “You’re okay. Eyes on me. Don’t look down. I’ve got you.”

The wind whipped around them, the ice groaning and cracking beneath Caitlyn’s feet. Vi kept moving, inch by inch, her hand getting closer, but Caitlyn could feel it—the panic in the air, the seconds slipping away.

“Hey,” Vi’s voice cut through the rising fear, light, coaxing. “You hear from Heimerdinger lately? How’s his Tremor research going?”

The question landed like a tether for Caitlyn, something she could ground herself with.

“I—um—” Caitlyn fought for focus, for memory. “He… he thinks he’s narrowed down the planetary origin… he said—”

Crack.

The ice gave way in an instant. The surface, the air, the light... gone, replaced by a darkness that closed in around her, and a cold that sank its claws into her.

It wasn’t just cold, it was violent.  A thousand needles stabbing at her skin, ripping the breath from her chest in a brutal reflexive gasp, and that’s when the water hit her lungs, causing them to seize. Panic flared in her chest as her limbs kicked weakly. The shock paralyzed her, her body instantly locking up against the freezing assault. The cold drove into her skin, deeper and deeper, cutting through flesh to her bones. The heavy gear bag was beginning to pull her down... deeper and deeper. 

Her vision darkened at the edges, narrowing like the closing lens of a camera. She knew what was happening.

I’m dying.

She should be terrified, but oddly, she wasn’t. The panic had ebbed into something new, something quiet. There was… peace. Warm memories filled the void: quiet moments in her childhood home, the sound of her father’s voice reading to her, his hand steadying hers as she learned to shoot.

Tobias, god she missed Tobias. Her father was the kindest, most gentle man in the galaxy. Patient, too. Patience of a saint, her mother would say. All he wanted to do was help people. He was everything Caitlyn could only hope to become someday. Would she get to see him again? She’d never believed in that kind of thing, but now… maybe? She let herself sink, let herself drift toward the answer.

Her mind could barely register the sudden, upward pull, the light creeping back toward her. She wondered, for one strange, flickering moment, if this was it. If the whole ascending-to-heaven thing wasn’t just a story. Would the light be warm? Would she feel anything?

The surface broke around them in a violent splash. Vi gasped, lungs heaving, her mouth flooding with air as she clawed at the ice with one arm, the other locking Caitlyn against her. She dragged herself clumsily out of the water with all the strength she could muster. She sat dripping on the ice as she frantically pulled at Caitlyn, using everything she had left to try to get the woman out of the frigid, black water. 

“Come on!” Vi choked, her voice raw, desperate. “Come on!”

Caitlyn’s soaked equipment dragged her back like an anchor, the dead weight pulling her back into the water.

“Fuck!” Vi screamed.

Her knife was out in an instant, sawing frantically at the straps across Caitlyn’s chest, severing them one by one until the bag slipped free and disappeared into the black. Caitlyn’s gear was gone, and their plan had been irreversibly altered, but right now, Vi wasn’t thinking about anything other than keeping her alive. 

She gripped Caitlyn tighter, pulling, dragging, screaming as she powered herself across the increasingly unstable ice, inch by inch until they collapsed together on solid ground. She crawled to her knees beside Caitlyn, the cold biting into her through soaked clothes, her chest heaving, lungs burning, but none of it mattered, because Caitlyn wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing.

Vi’s hands trembled as she gripped Caitlyn’s shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Cait? Hey, Cait? Come on, wake up. We gotta go. We—” Her voice cracked at the lifelessness she was staring at. “We gotta go.”

Nothing.

“No, no no no…” She shook her harder now, like maybe Caitlyn had just forgotten how to breathe and Vi could shake the memory back into her. “You don’t get to do this to me,” Vi said firmly, her throat tightening, tears stinging in her eyes. “You don’t—”

She forced herself to stop, to breathe.

Think.

She knew what to do. She’d learned it weeks ago back on The Gauntlet. Caitlyn had made the entire crew go through a variety of first aid training, including CPR. They’d all groaned and complained, and Vi couldn’t resist cracking jokes about chest compressions and mouth to mouth the entire time, but despite all of that, she remembered everything Caitlyn had said. All the steps, the counts, the timing, all of it. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Vi said shakily, yanking Caitlyn’s coat open with trembling hands. She planted her soaked gloves in the center of Caitlyn’s chest and started compressions, her body leaning into each push.

“One, two, three, four—” she gritted her teeth, her voice cracking. "Breathe, you fucker!” The rhythm was all she had now. Push, push, push, like she could slam Caitlyn’s soul back into her body.

She dropped to Caitlyn’s face, pinched her nose, sealed her mouth over Caitlyn’s, then forced two breaths into cold, unresponsive lungs. She sat back and slammed her palms against her sternum again.

"Come on, Caitlyn, fight for me! ” she yelled, pressing harder, faster now. “You've gotta tell me how I’m doing this all wrong! Make me go through the training again! Come on! ”

Another breath, another round. Nothing. 

“We’ve got way too much shit to argue over!” she yelled, tears slipping down her cheeks, freezing there. “You don’t get to go until I’m ready to let you go! Do you hear me? You don’t get to—” her voice broke. “You don’t get to hurt me like this!”

She pushed into Caitlyn’s chest again, ragged sobs tearing from her throat. This was it, she was losing her. She was losing her and she never told her anything. She never made her feel any better about that night at The Last Drop, the kiss, the words she whispered to Vi as she fell asleep.

“I see you, Caitlyn! Alright? I fucking see you! I always have. You’ve always been there! I—I don’t know what that means, but I’m not ready to lose the chance to figure it out. So please, just stay!”

She dropped down again, pushed two more breaths into her, and whispered a final plea as she rested her head on Caitlyn's chest.

“Stay. Please stay. Please—”

A weak gasp, a violent cough. Caitlyn’s body jolted as she rolled to her side, hacking up mouthfuls of icy water. Her eyes fluttered, unfocused, but alive.

Vi scrambled to her, arms wrapping around her, propping her upright, pulling her close to her chest like she was afraid she might disappear again.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Cait. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

“Vi…” Caitlyn rasped weakly.

“Yeah, Cait. I’m here.” Vi’s breath hitched, tears frozen on her face. “I’m right here.”

Caitlyn weakly shook her head and forced her eyes to focus, blinking against the cold and the blur. She felt what was happening to her body, and it was terrifying.

“Clothes… k-killing us… h-h-hypo—”

Hypothermia. Shit. She was right. Vi could feel symptoms herself. The cold was everywhere now, creeping under her layers, leeching every last ounce of heat from her bones. She could feel her own hands starting to lose sensation.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Vi breathed, slinging her bag over her shoulder, bending down to scoop Caitlyn into her arms. The abandoned outpost was close. Vi could make it, she knew she could, she had to. She trudged through the snow, her boots sinking deep with every desperate step. The sharp burn in her muscles clashed violently against the numbing cold creeping through her layers. Her breath came ragged, her arms trembling, but she didn’t dare slow down, not with the fragile life depending on her in her arms. It was getting dark, and the snow was falling heavier. If they stopped, even for a second, they were dead.

“Hold on for me, Cait. Just hold on.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The accommodations of Tryndamere’s prison cells were exactly what one would expect from a blacksite facility on Freljord: cold, cramped, and indifferent to the suffering of its occupants. Mel had moved quickly, and by some miracle, had convinced Marcus to at least let Powder, Ekko, and Isha stay together. “A family,” she’d called them. The word had stuck, it mattered. But family or not, this cell was hardly meant to house one person, much less three.

There was a single metal platform posing as a bed welded to the wall, its edges bent and rusted, with a threadbare blanket and a flattened rag that might have once been a pillow. It hadn’t even been a discussion, the bed was Isha’s. Powder and Ekko had worked quickly, tucking the thin blanket tightly over the girl. They both watched her anxiously as the shivering slowed, until finally, mercifully, Isha’s breathing evened out in her sleep.

Powder let out a sigh of relief, and let herself settle onto the cold concrete floor, trying very hard not to think about everything that had probably been on it at one time or another. It was as though the cold had doubled its efforts on Powder now that Isha was safely tucked away. Her shivering only seemed to intensify, breath escaping in ragged, visible clouds. But then came the warmth. A strong, familiar arm wrapped gently around her shoulders, pulling her close. She could feel him now, Ekko, his chest firm against her back, his heartbeat steady where she could lean into it.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “You know I’ve got you.”

Powder closed her eyes, just for a second, letting herself sink into him. Her hands found his arm and clung to it, desperate for anything to hold on to right now. She slowly twisted in his hold, shifting to face him, her breathing still uneven from the cold. Her breath caught just a little as her gaze met his. Ekko, who always looked at her like that. With those soft, brown eyes, full of worry, sure, but more than that. Full of something else. Something bigger. Something terrifying.

Love.

She didn’t like thinking about that word. Didn’t like using it, even with Vi. Words like that always made things harder, messier, more dangerous. But looking at him now, it was undeniable. Love. For her, for Isha, for their family.

“So this fucking sucks, huh?” she said, voice shaking through the forced smirk on her lips.

Ekko shrugged with a small, crooked grin. “I’ve had worse nights.”

“Oh yeah?” Powder raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He thought for a moment, then grinned wider. “Remember when you ‘fixed’ the heating on the Gauntlet?”

“That should have worked!” Powder insisted, her voice shaky, but determined. “Jayce’s schematics were outdated!

“You almost set my room on fire!” Ekko teased.

“Heavy emphasis on ‘almost’.” Powder countered. 

“Right.” he nodded, smirking. 

“Dick,” she muttered as she leaned into him. He chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

“They’re gonna find us, you know,” Ekko said softly.

Powder nodded against his chest. She knew exactly what he meant. “Probably already here,” she mumbled, a faint, tired grin tugging at her lips, “arguing about which direction they should be heading.”

Ekko huffed out a laugh and squeezed her a little tighter, the faintest hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. He slipped into a terrible Vi impression, his voice pitched low and rough. “This way, Cupcake. Left. Definitely left. I’ve got a gut feeling.”

Without missing a beat, Powder stiffened and crossed her arms, slipping into her equally terrible Caitlyn impression, her voice clipped and prim like the Piltie she’d reluctantly grown such a fondness for. “Oh, of course, Captain. Because your gut has gotten us so far already.”

Ekko snorted. “Don’t start with me, Kiramman.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” Powder drawled, her fake accent thickening, “because someone refuses to read a damned map.”

“And someone,” Ekko shot back as Vi, “has been a pain in my ass since Jericho.”

They both cracked, soft giggles muffled against each other’s shoulders. The tension, the cold, the fear, it didn’t go away, but it eased just enough.

The laughter faded, and Powder found herself glancing up, meeting his eyes again, and there it was. It had never left. That quiet, steady love for her, constant, like the snowfall outside these prison walls. A love she knew she felt back. A love he knew she felt back. It was unsaid, but it was understood. It had to be, right?

“Powder?” Ekko’s voice was soft, pulling her from her train of thought. 

“Yeah?” She blinked, returning to him.

“You okay?” His brow creased with the kind of worry he always tried to hide but never quite could. “Where’d you go?”

“Oh, just…” she shrugged, feigning indifference. “Tired. Cold. No big deal.”

He stared at her a moment longer, unconvinced. She couldn’t lie to him. Not now, not ever. He always saw her, and always saw through her. 

She sighed, looking down at his chest. “I just… “ she forced her eyes back up to his, “you know, right?”

Ekko gazed into her, into those beautiful blue eyes that always undid him. And he saw it. The way she looked at him the same way he looked at her. He didn’t need to ask what she meant. He reached up, his palm warm as it cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch like it was the only thing she needed in this place. He kissed her gently, careful in a way not many things in their lives had ever been. When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“Yeah, Powder,” he murmured. “I know.”

She smiled and let her eyes flutter shut, the weight in her chest finally easing, relieved, maybe even content, all things considered. She was ready to let herself drift off, wrapped in his arms.

And then… a new warmth.

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see a little body squirming its way between them.

“Kid? What are you—”

Her breath caught. Isha had wedged herself firmly between them, her small hands tugging at the blanket, determined to make sure it covered all three of them. When she was satisfied, she pressed herself tight against them both, her head tucked safely under Powder’s chin. Powder blinked, staring down at the little girl now sandwiched between them, her heart tightening painfully in her chest.

Ekko only smiled softly and wrapped his arms around them both. Powder blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, breathing in the warmth, the closeness, the quiet. She let her eyes shut one more time, sinking into the calm. She finally let herself drift off. And there, wrapped in her arms, held tight against her, were two of the greatest loves she’d ever known. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Jayce and Mel lay on their separate bunks, hands threaded tightly through the cold bars of their neighboring cells. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough. But right now, it was all they had.

“No dice on going two for two with pulling heartstrings, huh?” Jayce smirked faintly, but it was soft, more for her than for the joke.

Mel huffed a quiet laugh, though the weight in her chest didn’t lift. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, not with the guilt sitting heavy behind them.

“Hey,” Jayce called her back, gently bringing her gaze up to meet his with a soft touch against her cheek through the bars. “You did good, Mel. If you hadn’t stepped in, God knows what would’ve happened back there.”

“Sure,” she muttered, “but you’re also forgetting I’m the reason we’re here in the first place. I set this job up. I trusted Marcus.” Her voice cracked a little. “I’m the one who got us sold out.”

Jayce shook his head, smiling. “Welcome to your first screw-up on The Gauntlet,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes warm. “Trust me, you stop feeling bad about it somewhere in the low hundreds.”

His hands found hers again, squeezing tighter this time, like he could pass some of his confidence to her. “And you know what?” he added, a glimmer of that familiar fire in his voice, “Caitlyn’s out there. Vi’s out there. They’re coming. You know they are.”

Mel finally let her shoulders sag, pressing her forehead gently against the bars. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Jayce’s smirk returned, this time with genuine amusement dancing behind it. “You think maybe this is what it’s gonna take for them to finally figure it out?”

Mel raised an eyebrow. “Figure what out?”

Jayce rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on. You and I both know they’ve been locked in this agonizing pining spiral since the day they met. Vi’s just too stubborn to talk about her feelings.”

Mel’s lips tugged into a real smile this time, the first in hours. “And Caitlyn,” she added with a fond sigh, “is the most painfully awkward, emotionally stunted communicator I’ve ever met.”

Jayce laughed, shaking his head. “Thank you for not making me go through a whole song and dance with you.”

Mel smirked, tilting her head. “Well, you didn’t exactly give me much of a chance.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you have the subtlety of a tuskbeast in an antique shop.”

His jaw dropped in mock offense. “Hey, I can be subtle. Aloof, even.”

“Aloof,” she echoed, grinning. “That’s adorable.”

“You’re gonna regret everything you’re saying when they get us out of here.”

“Oh? Is that so?” she teased.

“Oh, yeah.” Jayce smiled, leaning into the bit. “Who knows? Maybe I'll go find a nice girl on Shurima who can actually appreciate how dark and mysterious I really am.”

“Mmm.” Mel hummed, pulling his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. Her eyes never left his. “I don’t think so.”

Jayce’s face faltered, just slightly, caught off guard by how easily she could melt him.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a little breathless now. “I’m a terrible liar.”

The two lay there in a more comfortable silence now, finding a warmth in each other’s eyes that their cells could never offer.

After a while, Mel’s voice broke the quiet, soft but certain. “I’ve never regretted leaving.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked to her, surprised by the confession. “Not even now?” He asked.

“Not even now.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling in the dark.

It was true. She’d rather be here, locked in this frozen shithole, holding hands through rusted bars with someone who actually cared about her, than spend another minute living under the thumb of a woman who’d always been a politician first, and a mother… not quite second, if at all. She’d left Piltover with Caitlyn, desperate to find her place among the stars. And now, after months aboard The Gauntlet, after getting to know every loud, complicated, stubborn person on that ship, she was pretty sure she’d found it. Her place was with them, for better or worse. Probably worse, but even then, she didn’t regret a thing.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The door to the abandoned outpost slammed open with a groan and a bang as it hit the wall. Vi stumbled inside, clinging desperately to Caitlyn, both of them drenched and dangerously cold, hypothermia threatening to deep into their bones. She kicked the door shut behind them and scanned the empty room. Bare bones. Four walls, a roof. It would work. It had to.

Carefully, Vi lowered Caitlyn to the floor. “Hey, Cupcake,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “How you doing? Still with me?”

Caitlyn’s head bobbed faintly in a weak nod, her body trembling so hard it hurt to watch.

“Good. That’s good.” Vi ran a shaky hand through her soaked hair, breath coming out in ragged puffs. “You’re gonna be okay.”

There wasn’t time to hesitate. Vi dropped to her knees and started peeling off Caitlyn’s soaking, freezing layers, her gloves stiff and useless as she yanked them off with her teeth. Her hands burned from the cold, but she worked fast, stripping away the wet clothes that clung to Caitlyn like a death sentence.

“Vi…” Caitlyn’s voice was barely a breath, her teeth chattering violently.

“I know. I know,” Vi said quickly. “I didn’t have time to buy you flowers first.” Her voice cracked as she forced out the joke, anything to keep Caitlyn focused. She tore open her pack with numb fingers and found what she needed, a heat lamp, and more importantly, the thermal sleeping bag. It was going to be a tight fit, but with Caitlyn’s gear bag lost to the river, there weren’t any other options. She turned on the lamp and rolled the bag out across the floor. She gently guided Caitlyn inside, zipping her in with care.

“There you go,” Vi whispered. “That’s better, right?”

Caitlyn’s exhausted, blue eyes locked on hers. “Y-y-you… t-too…”

Vi smirked faintly. “That eager to get me naked, huh? Shit, Cait. Thought you’d play a little harder to get.”

“Shut… up…” Caitlyn rasped, but there was the barest hint of life in her voice now.

Vi gritted her teeth as she peeled off her own freezing, soaked clothes, every layer dragging across her skin like ice blades. The cold was worse without them, cutting straight to her bones now, but she didn’t hesitate.

She slipped into the bag behind Caitlyn, sliding her arms carefully around her, drawing her close. The bag was cramped, cold, and miserable. Every inch of their frozen skin touched. It was a long, brutal stretch of chattering teeth and bone-deep shivers. But slowly, as their combined body heat fought its way to the surface, the trembling began to ease. The cold didn’t leave. Not fully. But it started to loosen its grip.

Vi tightened her hold, her cheek resting against Caitlyn’s damp hair. “You’re okay,” she murmured. “We’re okay.”

She hadn’t even realized she was doing it—her hands, moving instinctively, running slow, steady circles over Caitlyn’s shoulders, brushing her gently with her thumbs. Again and again, a quiet rhythm, soothing and repetitive. The motions brought a faint warmth to Vi’s aching hands, but more than that, it kept them both present. The wind still howled outside, the snow fell harder, but here, with their bodies pressed together, the storm felt just a little further away.

Neither spoke. They didn’t need to. It was just them and the steady pulse of Vi’s hands, running those same, comforting lines along Caitlyn’s skin. Up. Down. Over and over. The heat was coming back, but something else was coming to the surface as well. An aching, not from the cold, but something neither of them had been brave enough to face until now. Had today not gone the way it had, Vi wasn’t sure she’d be feeling quite so brave. But fuck, she’d nearly lost her. Caitlyn had almost slipped away without ever really knowing.

Without knowing that she was more than just another crewmember. More than a doctor. More than the chief science officer. Without knowing that she was the reason Vi lay awake so many nights, staring at the ceiling of the captain's quarters, wondering what the hell she was doing to herself. Without knowing that she was what made Vi a little sharper, a little more daring, a little more desperate to survive whenever jobs went sideways. Without knowing that she had become the thing Vi always came back for. The reason she fought so hard to stay alive.

It was terrifying to come to terms with, really, that she had fallen so hard, so fast. After everything Sarah had done to her, she never thought she could be this stupid again, letting someone in, letting them matter this much. Trusting someone with that piece of herself.

Worse, trusting someone not to break Powder.

And if she was being honest, that was why she hadn’t said anything. As much as she had wanted to at times, as much as she was willing to put herself at risk, she couldn’t gamble Powder like that. She couldn’t risk someone finishing what Sarah had started. 

But that wasn’t Caitlyn Kiramman. Caitlyn wasn’t selfish, she wasn’t callous. She was kind, she was gentle, she was caring. She was everything good in this miserable galaxy.

And Vi had almost let her die without knowing that.

Vi took a deep, shaky breath, steeling herself to break the fragile silence that hung between them. “Almost lost you today,” she whispered.

“Thank god you at least half paid attention during CPR training,” Caitlyn muttered, her voice still weak but laced with that familiar dry humor.

Vi chuckled slightly. “Yeah, well… the instructor was pretty annoying about it.”

She felt the faintest tremble under her arms, Caitlyn’s laugh, small and delicate, but it was there. “I think she’d prefer the term persistent,” Caitlyn countered.

Vi chuckled, resting her chin lightly against Caitlyn’s damp hair. “Fine. Persistent it is, then.”

Caitlyn let out a sigh of approval, and Vi could feel as the doctor’s body relaxed against hers. 

Enough, Lanes. Cut the shit. No more jokes. No more nonchalance. You nearly lost her today. You could lose her tomorrow.

Vi closed her eyes, drew in a slow breath, and tried again.

“Cait?” she said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you… remember the night of the Dreadnaught tournament at The Last Drop?”

“Oh…” Vi felt Caitlyn stiffen at the memory. “Violet, I—”

“Not the kiss,” Vi cut in gently. “Do you remember when I brought you back onto The Gauntlet?”

Caitlyn sighed. “Not particularly. I was… well…”

“You were wasted by that point,” Vi said with a small, fond smile.

“Not exactly a highlight for me, but thank you for reminding me.” Caitlyn muttered.

“You said something to me that night, right before you went to sleep.” Vi’s voice grew quieter. “You told me… you wanted me to see you. Wanted to… be on my radar.”

Silence. Caitlyn didn’t move, didn’t breathe. At the mention of those words, she suddenly remembered her slurred confession. God, she’d made such an ass of herself that night. She’d thrown herself at Vi in front of everyone, and she’d told herself that had been the extent of it. But to have said that? To have admitted something so vulnerable and honest? What was she—

“I do, Caitlyn,” Vi murmured, her arms tightening just slightly around her. “I see you. You’re not just… on my radar. Some days, it feels like you’re the only thing on it.”

The room was silent. Just their breathing, slow and steady now. And as the fear of loss, of the cold, of death began to fade, a new fear crept in, one far more terrifying. The fear she’d said too much. That maybe this wasn’t the right moment. God, of course this wasn’t the right moment. Cramped in a sleeping bag, sharing body heat, clinging to life? This wasn’t how she was supposed to say any of this. But if not now, then when? Tomorrow? When they'd nearly get themselves killed again?

She felt Caitlyn shift in her arms, and watched as she turned to face her, they were just inches apart, and god, it was hard not to stare. Even now, when she was pale from the cold, her hair still soaked and clinging to her skin, when she had just clawed her way back from the brink, the way her features were illuminated by the light of the heating lamp...she was so fucking beautiful. There was something otherworldly about her. Fragile and fierce all at once. She was ethereal.

She was perfect.

Caitlyn’s eyes met hers, searching, maybe hoping, but impossibly inviting. They were daring Vi to lose herself in them. She didn’t say anything, not yet. And for that, Vi was grateful. Because she wasn’t done. And if Caitlyn stopped her now, god, she was terrified she’d never be able to start again.

“Today… when I thought…” Vi swallowed hard, fighting the tightness rising in her throat. “When I thought I lost you… the idea of you not knowing that I…” Her voice cracked. “That I…” She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to push the tears back, pleading for just a few more seconds to get the words out. But then came warmth. Caitlyn’s hands, shockingly warm despite the chill dancing around them, cupped Vi’s face, steadying her. Her eyes slowly opened, and there she was. Caitlyn. Right there, inches away. No hint of fear. No trace of hesitation. Only patience. Only softness.

Caitlyn’s thumbs brushed the tears away, like she was telling Vi she didn’t have to finish, that maybe, she already knew. She still hadn’t spoken a word. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe words would only get in the way now. So instead, Caitlyn simply spoke with her actions, and closed the distance. Her lips pressed to Vi’s with certainty, with purpose, with the weight of everything they hadn’t brought themselves to say. Vi melted into her, a breathy moan escaping against Caitlyn’s lips as she clung to her like she might disappear again.

When they finally parted, Vi just stared. Wide-eyed, breathless, barely able to believe what had just happened. It wasn’t like the kiss at The Last Drop. This was different. This was sober, real.

“I… I don’t know…” Vi shook her head slightly, her eyes never leaving Caitlyn’s. “I don’t know what any of this means. I’m scared, and I’m confused, but…” her voice broke on the next breath, “fuck, Cait. I wanna be scared and confused… with you. I want—” she exhaled shakily, “I want you.”

And there it was, the full confession, just as naked as the two of them were now, wrapped in a sleeping bag with nothing but each other for warmth. She wanted Caitlyn. She wanted all of this, even if it terrified her, even if it went against every hardwired instinct to never let anyone matter this much again.

And for Caitlyn, that was everything. That was all she’d been aching to hear for months, all she’d been quietly begging Vi to say. She didn’t hesitate. She crashed forward, their lips meeting again in a kiss that was needier. Her hands tangled themselves in Vi’s damp hair as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Between the frantic breaths and moans escaping the two of them, Caitlyn whispered three words against Vi’s lips, “You have me.”

They were already so close together in the sleeping bag, but now, it wasn’t enough. Not for Caitlyn. She needed Vi closer. She needed to feel all of her, skin to skin, heart to heart. The kiss deepened, grew desperate, grew hungry. Caitlyn’s hands slid from Vi’s hair to her back, fingertips trailing over scars and ink, as if memorizing every inch of her, like Vi was hers. It still wasn’t enough. In a breathless scramble, she shifted under Vi’s weight, tugging until she found herself beneath her, their legs tangled, their bodies fitting together perfectly. She bit Vi’s lower lip, teasing, daring, pulling a low, wanting groan from the captain.

“Cait…” Vi rasped, her voice wrecked with want and wonder. There was disbelief in it, like she still couldn’t quite comprehend that this was happening, that Caitlyn wanted her like this, here and now. “Are you… we should wait until you’re—” 

Caitlyn didn’t let her finish, pressing her leg to the heat intensifying between Vi’s thighs, earning a sharp gasp, and a tighter grip around her, to her delight. She couldn’t help the smirk creeping across her face.

“Violet,” she murmured, their lips were so close that Vi could feel the breath of each word as they left Caitlyn. “I’m so fucking tired of waiting.”

She didn’t say another word, she didn’t need to. Vi brought her lips to Caitlyn’s, then slowly traveled across her cheek to her neck, trailing kisses and bites underneath her jawline, each mark she left made Caitlyn’s heart race faster. Vi slid her thigh into place, reciprocating the friction Caitlyn had given her, drawing a fragile whine from her. Her nails dug just slightly into Vi’s back, gentle enough not to aggravate her injuries, but sharp enough for Vi to know she was there.

Vi was completely and utterly lost in Caitlyn as they moved in tandem, bringing each other closer to ruin. Their thrusts were growing more rapid, their whimpers were rising into moans, but this wasn’t just sex, this was something far deeper. This was trust, this was vulnerability, this was love. 

Holy shit, this was love. 

It should have been a terrifying thought, enough to stop everything where it was right here. Vi should be getting off of her, turning away, hell, maybe looking around the outpost for a spare sleeping bag, or a blanket, anything that would give her an excuse to put distance between them right now. 

But it wasn’t terrifying, not at all. If anything, as she stared into the blue eyes underneath her, it felt… freeing, to know that she could feel something like this, that she wasn’t so damaged by her past that she couldn’t remember what love was. Even if she didn’t deserve it, even if it wasn’t mutual, it felt so good to know that her heart was capable, better than the climax she could feel building up as it began to course through her body. 

“Cait…” she whispered shakily, grinding against Caitlyn’s thigh. "I..."

Caitlyn bit her lip and nodded, “I’m close, too, Violet, just hold on… hold on for me.” Her hands dragged down Vi’s back, pushing and coaxing the woman harder into her. She gasped at the deeper friction, her hips pushing up into Vi. She was close, god, she was so close. Her entire body was vibrating against Vi’s touch. 

Vi shook her head. “No, I… I… oh, fuck!” Her grip on Caitlyn tightened more than she’d ever held onto anything in her life as the fire burned through her. Their bodies were firmly pressed against each other, their chests feeling the other's pounding heartbeat. Ecstasy washed over every inch of her as she thrusted against Caitlyn.

Vi’s orgasm was enough to bring Caitlyn over the edge, her arms wrapping around Vi as tightly as the hands she felt clinging to her, bucking up into Vi as desperate moans escaped her, cutting through the quiet of the abandoned building. 

Slowly, the intertwined cries of pleasure faded into gentle whines, then quiet laughter, shy and breathless. Their movements softened, no longer frantic, their passionate thrusts and bites now turned to tender touches and lazy kisses, hands gliding over each other’s bodies, far warmer now than they had been when they were desperately clinging to life just hours ago.

Caitlyn eventually broke the silence, her fingers tracing idle, absent minded patterns across Vi’s shoulders. She forced herself to pull back just enough to take her in. The sight of Vi above her—her strong arms braced on either side, gazing down at her like she was the most precious thing in the galaxy—was enough to make her heart swell.

“You… were trying to say something… before you, well, before we… ” Caitlyn’s cheeks warmed. She laughed nervously. “Before.”

Vi smirked, breath still shallow. “Now you’re shy?”

Caitlyn laughed again, nodding faintly. “Apparently.” Her eyes softened as she met Vi’s gaze, earnest now. “What were you trying to tell me?”

For a moment, Vi just stared, one final war raging inside her as she felt the words clawing their way to the surface, fighting to escape or to retreat where they’d been safely buried. She swallowed, hard.

“I love you.” The words landed with force, simple, raw, undeniable.

Caitlyn’s breath caught. Her eyes widened like she had just unlocked the greatest secret in the universe. “You… Violet, I…”

Vi rushed in, her voice a little frayed at the edges. “You don’t have to say it back. Honestly, I think I’d rather you didn’t, not if you’re not sure. I just—I nearly lost you today, Cait. I nearly lost you without ever telling you how I felt, without even fully understanding it myself, and I…” She trailed off, huffing out a short, helpless laugh. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Maybe we pull off the most legendary prison break in history that gets songs written about it for decades after. Maybe we get fucking trampled by a herd of elnüks before we even get to the railcar station.”

Caitlyn laughed through tears. Vi’s thumb brushed her cheek as she pressed on. “The only thing I do know… is that I’m not leaving anything unsaid. Not anymore.” She stared longingly into Caitlyn’s eyes. “I love you.”

The weight of the words settled between them. Caitlyn’s throat tightened as she stared right back at Vi. There was no hesitation, there was no doubt. There was just love. Pure, unfiltered love, and a woman who was finally letting herself feel it.

“I love you too,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice steady now. She pulled Vi down into a kiss, slow and reverent, nothing like the urgency from before. And Vi melted into it, like she’d been waiting her whole life to be kissed exactly like this.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The pale morning light crept over the icy Freljordian mountaintops as Vi and Caitlyn finished preparing to move out. The plan had gone sideways the moment they’d lost Caitlyn’s gear the day before, but when improvising was all they had left, well, two stubborn women could get creative.

Vi tugged on her mostly dried clothes with a heavy sigh. “Just to be clear, this plan fucking sucks.”

Caitlyn smirked as she fastened the last buckle of the stolen Enforcer uniform. It didn’t fit quite right—hung a little loose in the shoulders, sagged a bit at the hips—but it was passable. It would have to do. She slipped the cold mask over her head, her voice muffled, but laced with unmistakable amusement. “Quiet, mercenary scum. Don’t make me tighten your restraints.”

Vi glared at her, half-exasperated, half-fighting the urge to smile. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Immensely.” Caitlyn replied coolly, giving her “borrowed” rifle a once-over.

Vi shook her head as she clipped the cuffs around her own wrists, just loose enough to slip free when needed. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”

Caitlyn paused, her masked face tilting slightly, savoring the words. “Hmm. I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I’m lucky you…? ”

Vi rolled her eyes and muttered, “You might be the first Enforcer I kill.”

A laugh bubbled out of Caitlyn, rich and unfiltered despite the mask. It warmed Vi more than the morning sun ever could.

“Come on,” Caitlyn said softly, nudging her toward the door. “Let’s go get our people back.”

Chapter Text

Tryndamere was a miserable posting. For most Enforcers, it was either a pit stop at the start of their career, or a punishment for screwing up badly enough that no one trusted them anywhere else. It was cold, it was remote, and worst of all, it was dull. Sure, the prisoners were dangerous, but that didn’t matter. Out here, boredom was the real enemy.

Railcar station shifts were the worst of it. Hours standing around in the middle of nowhere, freezing your ass off, just to watch deliveries roll in, prisoners get shuffled through, and guards rotate their shifts. Nobody wanted to be here. Nobody cared who passed through. They just wanted to get to the end of the day.

So when an Enforcer with a poorly fitting uniform shoved a cuffed prisoner sporting a black eye and busted lip toward the checkpoint at gunpoint, well, it was just another miserable morning at Tryndamere.

Vi winced as the rifle’s barrel jabbed straight into her back, right on the deep gash Caitlyn had just stitched the day before. She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Fuck, Cait. Punching me in the face wasn’t enough?” She hissed. 

“Sorry…” Caitlyn muttered under her breath.

“Maybe get a little less into character?” Vi grumbled.

The two approached the station, playing the parts of captor and captive with ease. At the entrance, a bored-looking guard stepped forward, raising a gloved hand to halt them.

“What’ve we got here?” she asked, giving Vi a slow, unimpressed once-over.

Caitlyn straightened her posture and dropped her voice into a cold and clipped tone so very unlike her. “Caught this one near the wreckage yesterday. Took out my entire team. Couldn’t get her back to Tryndamere before the storm hit, so we bunkered down in an old Fed outpost.”

The guard’s eyes flicked over Vi’s bruises, her scowl deepening. “Should’ve let her freeze outside.”

“Oh, trust me, she preferred to keep me nice and warm,” Vi shot back.

The back of the guard’s hand connected with her cheek in an instant. “Keep quiet, trash.” She growled. 

Vi stumbled back, her face stinging. “Aw, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” she teased, her voice still dripping with defiance. “Jealous? Don’t worry, my tongue still works. Stop by my cell after your shift and I’ll—”

“Enough,” Caitlyn cut in before Vi or the guard could take things any further. “She’ll get plenty more once she’s inside,” she nodded toward the railcar. “Permission to board?”

The guard waved them through, already losing interest. “Welcome to Tryndamere.”

Vi shot her a glare as she passed. “Thanks, but I won’t be staying long.”

“Quiet,” Caitlyn snapped, giving her a rough shove toward the railcar.

Once inside, the doors sealed shut behind them with a heavy clang. The railcar groaned to life beneath their feet, beginning its slow, steady crawl across the yawning chasm toward Tryndamere.

“I think she liked me,” Vi smirked. 

Caitlyn huffed and pulled her mask up off her face, stepping closer to inspect the fresh bruise now blooming along Vi’s cheekbone. She brushed her thumb gently over the mark, frowning in quiet disapproval. “And you said I needed to be less in character.”

Vi shrugged, the smirk never fading. “What can I say? I like ‘em rough.”

“Violet…” Caitlyn scolded, but the warning was laced with worry more than annoyance.

Vi’s cuffed hands reached up to clasp the one still hovering near her face, holding it there firmly. Her eyes softened, serious now. “Hey. I’m alright.”

Caitlyn’s throat tightened, her pulse betraying her. The cold walls of the railcar seemed to shrink around them, like they were the only two people left in the galaxy. This thing, whatever it was between them, was still fragile, still forming, and right now, the weight of Vi’s hands around hers made it almost impossible to focus on anything else.

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to break the trance. “Right, well, listen. Once we’re inside, try not to make anymore friends?”

Vi’s smirk returned, playful as ever. “I’ll be a good girl. Promise.”  

Had Caitlyn not slipped the mask back over her face, Vi might’ve seen the color rush to Caitlyn’s cheeks. It didn’t matter, Vi was pretty sure she knew what she’d done anyway. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder blinked as the faintest hints of daylight crept in through the small, narrow window of their cell. She was still wrapped in Ekko’s arms, both of them having held Isha close throughout the night. In any other situation, she might’ve taken a moment to appreciate how tender this was, how much they both meant to her, how much she meant to them. But right now, there wasn’t much comfort to take. Not here, not in this place. It had been a brutal night out there, and all she could do now was hope like hell that either Vi and Caitlyn hadn’t made it to Freljord yet… or somehow, they’d survived the storm.

Carefully, she slipped out of Ekko’s and Isha’s grip and stood, stretching her legs and walking over to the window. She peered through it like she had a dozen times before. Same as always: a blinding sea of white, jagged, indistinguishable mountaintops, nothing new. She snorted softly at herself. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see.

A sudden weight pressed against her side. She looked down, smiling as Isha leaned sleepily against her. Powder slid her arm around the girl’s shoulders and pulled her in close.

“Hey, kiddo,” she murmured, brushing a hand over Isha’s hair. “Sleep alright?”

Isha nodded, offering a small, tired smile, the kind of smile that threatened to break Powder’s heart. She crouched down to meet her at eye level, her hand settling on the girl’s cheek.

“You got any idea what a little badass you are?” Powder asked softly. Isha’s eyes flickered with something close to pride, and she nodded again, just a little.

Powder grinned. “Good. ‘Cause you are so much braver than I was at your age.” She glanced away, her gaze going distant. “God, I was such a scared kid.” She laughed quietly to herself. “Now I’m just a scared adult who’s pretty good at pretending she’s not.”

Her eyes flicked back to Isha, and her expression softened again. “But you? You’re the real deal. Total badass. No pretending.”

Isha nodded, more certain this time, more proudly. 

Powder squeezed her shoulders. “I remember the day we found you. I think about it all the time, you know that?” She shut her eyes for a moment, letting herself go back to that night.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Two Years Ago…

It was as quiet as a Piltovian night could be. The city buzz outside Hextech Tower was little more than a hum behind thick walls and security doors. Vi, Powder, and Ekko would’ve preferred at least some noise inside. It was too quiet, but if they were feeling optimistic, maybe that meant everyone had cleared out for the night.

“Product Development,” Ekko whispered, reading the signage as they ascended the stairwell. “This is the one. Come on.”

Vi raised a hand, making him freeze. “Quiet doesn’t mean empty, Littleman. Careful.”

The three of them stacked on the door. Powder slipped inside first, Vi right behind her, Ekko watching their backs. The floor was a technological wonderland—blueprints, prototypes, glowing consoles, strange devices they didn’t have names for. Standing amidst the future of the galaxy, it was hard not to look at every little contraption.

“God, Vi, look at all this…” Powder marveled, eyes wide.

“Focus, Pow,” Vi muttered. “We’re not here to window shop.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Powder waved her off. “Sample 1-5H4. I know. You’ve only said it a million times.”

“And I’ll say it a million more if it keeps you focused.”

“What even is this sample?” Powder sighed. “Why’s our client dying to get their hands on it?”

Vi shrugged, exasperated. “I don’t fucking know, Powder. I get an ID number. I get paid to find whatever goes with that number. I don’t ask questions.”

“Mmm. Real thorough leadership,” Powder said dryly.

Vi shot her a glare. “You wanna start this now? Because I swear to—”

A mechanical whirring cut her off mid-threat. All three of them froze, eyes snapping toward the source. A  faint light flickered from a glass-walled office in the corner. There was movement inside.

Vi nodded to Powder, a silent signal. Take point. Powder’s grip tightened on her pistol as she crept forward, footsteps feather-light. She eased up to the door, just barely ajar, and peered inside.

A man stood hunched over a glowing datapad, intently scribbling notes. Tall. Broad. His sleeves were rolled up over thick forearms. A prototype hammer leaned against the desk. He was so deep in his work he hadn’t heard them.

Powder moved quickly, slipping through the door and jamming her pistol under his jaw.

“Move, scream, think about doing anything I don’t explicitly tell you to do—your brains paint the ceiling. Understand?”

The man stiffened. Slowly, his hands raised. His voice stayed surprisingly calm. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Good,” Powder smirked, tilting her head. “Maybe you’ll walk out of this in one piece.”

“That would be preferable,” he muttered. “What can I do for you?”

Vi stepped into the room, watching him carefully. “Real quick to help us out, Pretty Boy. You fucking with us?”

“It’s Jayce,” he said, laughing nervously. “And no, definitely not fucking with you. I’d just really like to stay pretty. So, whatever you need, I can make it happen.”

Vi’s eyes narrowed. “Sample 1-5H4. Where is it?”

His face fell. His pulse quickened. Recognition flickered in his eyes.

“You’re here for her?”

Powder blinked, lowering her pistol just an inch. “What do you mean ‘her’?”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Powder smiled fondly, her hands still resting on Isha’s small shoulders. “Even then, with a bunch of strangers gawking at you, you just stood there, staring at us like, ‘what the hell are these idiots lookin’ at?’” She chuckled softly, ruffling the girl’s hair. “I knew right then and there that you were special. And I knew I wasn’t letting you go. Not then. Not ever.”

“God forbid someone joins this crew conventionally,” Ekko groaned as he stretched, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the girls.

“Morning,” Powder greeted softly.

“Morning. No breakfast?” he teased.

Powder scoffed, “Yeah, I’ll ask room service about that.”

Ekko nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “And while you’re at it, tell ‘em the pillows need fluffing, and maybe—”

A deafening metallic clank cut him off. Their cell door slid open, but not just theirs. Every door. Every single cell as far as they could see.

“What…?” Powder stepped carefully toward the hall, peering out in both directions, watching as dozens of other prisoners did the same.

Then the alarms blared. Red lights pulsed, bathing the halls in warning. And with it, the panic hit—hundreds of prisoners scrambling in a chaotic surge, racing for any door, any stairwell, any sliver of freedom.

Powder immediately grabbed Isha’s hand, gripping tight. “Stay close, kid,” she ordered, before snapping her eyes to Ekko. “Come on! We gotta find Jayce and Mel!”

They shoved through the bodies, fighting against the wild, desperate current of prisoners. Gunfire cracked somewhere deeper in the facility. The chaos was deafening.

Finally, rounding a corner, they skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with Jayce and Mel, equally breathless, equally wide-eyed.

“Thank God, you’re alright!” Jayce exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his other hand firmly intertwined with Mel’s.

You guys know what the hell’s happening?” Ekko asked between breaths.

Mel shook her head, chest heaving. “Was hoping you’d know.”

They took a moment, watching the prison unravel around them. The pace, the noise, the mess of it all, it was almost too familiar. Their eyes flicked between each other. And one by one, their faces broke into knowing, hopeful smiles. 

Vi and Caitlyn were here, and things were either going very, very well, or spectacularly wrong.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Thirty Minutes Earlier…

The metal gears shrieked in protest as the railcar groaned to a stop at Tryndamere. Gone were the soft touches and stolen glances. Gone were the murmured reassurances. Caitlyn slid the mask back into place and shoved Vi roughly out of the railcar, the cold biting at them instantly.

“Move,” Caitlyn growled, digging the barrel of her rifle into Vi’s back with no hint of mercy.

Vi stumbled forward. “Fucking Enforcers,” she growled, half in character, half not.

The rifle jabbed her again. “I said move.”

Caitlyn drove her forward through the gates and into the intake chamber, where, of all people, Marcus waited, arms folded, eyes sharp, watching Vi as she approached.

“Well, well,” Marcus mused. “Look who’s back from the dead.”

“Fuck you, Marcus,” Vi spat, venom in her voice. “Where’s my crew?”

Marcus smirked as he stepped closer. “You’re in no position to ask questions, Captain Lanes.”

His attention flicked to Caitlyn. “You. What happened out there?”

Caitlyn straightened, her voice cold and professional behind her mask, the story rolling off her tongue like she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. “We were sent to check the wreckage of the ship our anti-air took down. She was waiting for us. Killed my entire squad.” She jerked Vi’s collar, forcing her forward. “But I made her pay for it.”

Marcus’s gaze roamed over Vi’s fresh bruises, his smirk widening. “It looks that way.”

He lingered on her, considering something, then turned back to Caitlyn. “You did well, Officer...?”

“Arlowe,” Caitlyn replied crisply, recalling the papers she’d gone over a dozen times that morning. “Captain Morgan Arlowe.”

“Well, Captain Arlowe, you’ve handled yourself admirably. A shame it cost you your team.” He stepped forward, hand outstretched to take custody of Vi.

Caitlyn’s grip tightened. “I’d like to keep her under my supervision. For interrogation. I’m not done with her yet.” She yanked Vi again by the collar, her voice dropping. “If you understand my meaning.”

Marcus’s brow lifted in mild surprise, then settled into a knowing grin. “Of course, Captain. This way.”

They studied every corridor carefully as Marcus led them deeper into Tryndamere. Babette’s holographic projection had been helpful, but walking the halls in real time was a different beast entirely. The scale of the place was overwhelming—cold metal, harsh lights, and endless, intersecting pathways that all seemed to lead nowhere.

This place was massive. And finding the rest of their crew inside this labyrinth? That wasn’t going to be easy. But the control room, that was the key. If they could reach it, they could track the crew’s locations, isolate their cell numbers, Caitlyn could pull them for “interrogation,” and from there? Well, from there, they’d do what they’d already been doing.

Improvise.

Vi’s eyes flicked to every passing directory, every junction marker, mentally stitching together a rough map, while Caitlyn’s gaze swept the halls with silent precision. Each glimpse helped find their bearings just a little. They didn’t have a perfect route yet, but they were starting to get a vague, workable sense of the prison’s layout.

Marcus keyed open the interrogation room and waved Caitlyn and Vi inside. “In here, Captain Arlowe,” he smirked, hand lingering on the door. “Try not to let her get too much blood on the floor.”

“No promises,” Caitlyn muttered, shoving Vi forward into the room. But as she moved to close the door, Marcus slipped in behind them.

“Sir?” Caitlyn asked carefully, her heart lurching.

Marcus shrugged lazily. “Didn’t want to let you have all the fun. Surely you don’t mind?”

Every nerve in Caitlyn’s body screamed that this wasn’t part of the plan, but she couldn’t push him out. She was an Enforcer subordinate. Arlowe wouldn’t have the authority. “Not at all, sir,” she said, stiffly. She forced Vi into the metal chair, locking the cuffs behind the back of the chair.

Marcus smiled, circling Vi slowly. “That fucking ship of yours, The Gauntlet. Hell of a symbol back in the Restoration War.” He scoffed. “Hell of a ghost now.”

Vi glared up at him, silent.

“It was Vander Warwick’s ship, wasn’t it?” Marcus asked as though he didn’t already know.  And there it was, a flicker, the faintest twitch in Vi’s eye at the name. He caught it. His smirk widened like a vulture who’d found something to pick apart. “That man could deliver a speech, I’ll give him that. Knew how to stir people up.” He leaned in so close Vi could smell the bitter tobacco on his breath. “It’s just a shame,” Marcus whispered, “that he didn’t know how to keep anyone alive.”

The blow came so fast he didn’t see it coming. Vi slammed her forehead into his nose, sending him reeling back with a grunt of pain. He clutched his face, blood streaming through his fingers.

“You bitch!” Marcus snarled, lunging forward, punching Vi hard across the face, snapping her head to the side. Followed by another, sending her head to the other side. Caitlyn flinched, her breathing became sharp. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just stand here and watch this. She was ready to drop the act and—

Vi’s eyes locked onto hers, a silent message. Calm down. Don’t blow this.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Arlowe,” Marcus dabbed blood from his nose. “By all means, have your turn.” He gestured lazily to Vi.

Caitlyn forced her feet to move. She stopped in front of Vi, fists trembling, staring down at the woman whose eyes silently begged her. Do it. Whatever it takes to make him happy. Get him to leave. Whatever it took to get them alone, whatever gave them time to plan what came next. 

Caitlyn swallowed hard, fists clenched, breath shaky as she swung and landed a sharp, brutal punch to Vi’s ribs. She cried out, the sound raw, tearing through Caitlyn’s chest like a blade.

“You hit…” Vi wheezed, forcing a smirk even as she gasped for air, “like a bitch.”

Caitlyn’s breathing was ragged, sharper than she wanted it to be, more than she could conceal. Marcus caught it. His grin spread wider, twisted.

“Go on, Captain,” he urged, waving her on. “Again.”

She turned, fists still shaking, and stared into Vi’s bruised and bloodied face. She couldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t. She’d blow the whole plan if she had to. Vi could hate her for it later, but Caitlyn wasn’t about to lay into her again just to keep up this sick fucking game.

She started to pivot toward Marcus, words at the ready, but the glowing barrel of a pistol pointed at her head froze her in place.

Marcus couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice, even if he’d wanted to. “Funny thing about Morgan Arlowe…” His free hand yanked the mask off Caitlyn’s head, revealing the wide-eyed expression underneath. “He’s never sounded quite so feminine before today.”

His pistol didn’t waver, his smile didn’t either. “Welcome to Tryndamere, Doctor Kiramman.” Marcus tilted his head, savoring the moment, his eyes flicking lazily between his two targets. “It wasn’t a bad setup, I’ll give you that. Honestly, enough nobodies come through here, had you just made up a name instead of using the late Morgan Arlowe's, I probably wouldn’t have even bothered checking.” He chuckled, slow and patronizing. “But god, ladies, what was the plan here? Break into the most secure facility in all of the Unified Systems, snatch five prisoners, and just stroll out like no one would notice?”

Vi shrugged against the chair, testing the cuffs as subtly as she could. “We were leaving room for improv.”

Marcus scoffed. “You know what’s funny? I actually respected Vander. During the war? The man was a legend, and his ship was like a myth among the Allies.” He sneered, pacing now, watching them both like a predator. “And now it’s nothing but a rust bucket for lowlife mercs. Pathetic.”

He turned the full weight of his attention to Caitlyn. “But you? You’re something else, Doctor. Daughter of the Chairwoman of the Unified Systems. A respectable woman of science. And now you’re playing house with Undeveloped Systems trash.” His grin sharpened, malicious. “Your mother must be so proud .”

Caitlyn’s jaw locked. Her voice didn’t shake. “ Fuck you. ”

Marcus stepped in, pistol raised again to her forehead, ready to gloat, when a sharp clatter echoed through the room. He glanced reflexively. A pair of metal restraints lay on the floor. That fraction of a second was all Caitlyn needed. She lunged, knocking the pistol off target, her hands wrestling his wrist as the weapon fired wildly into the wall. Vi tore off the oversized gloves that had been hiding her displacement gloves. The tech hissed and crackled to life. She surged forward.

BOOM.

Her fist connected with Marcus’ gut, the kinetic blast slamming him backwards into the wall with a brutal crunch. His pistol skittered across the floor. Caitlyn was on him instantly, her rifle raised, trained dead center on him.

Marcus coughed, groaned, but laughed through the pain. “So what now? Gonna shoot me?” He sneered at Caitlyn. “You’d never.”

“No,” Vi muttered, picking up his pistol. “She wouldn’t.” She leveled it without hesitation. “But I would.”

Crack.

A red bolt burned into Marcus’ chest. He slumped to the floor in an unceremonious heap. Vi stood over him, chest heaving, and spat blood onto his corpse. “Don’t fuck with my crew.” She turned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Alright, so how do you wanna—”

She was immediately cut off by Caitlyn slamming into her, arms wrapping tightly around her, then frantic hands flying to Vi’s face, her ribs, her jaw, checking her like she expected her to fall apart in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Violet. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? God, I tried not to hit you too hard, but I had to sell it, and I didn’t think—”

“Cait.”

“Watching him hit you like that, I just—I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t, Vi, I couldn’t—”

“Cait.”

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Cait.” Vi cupped her face, pulled her in, and kissed her, hard. It was a kiss that silenced the spiral. Caitlyn melted into it with a helpless sigh, her frantic thoughts dissolving into Vi’s steady hands. When Vi finally pulled back, she just gave her a soft, lopsided smile.

Caitlyn stood there for a moment, wide-eyed, stunned, and not nearly as irritated as she wanted to be at how well that had worked. She swallowed hard and nodded. “Right.” She took a shaky breath, dragging her brain back to the task at hand. “The control room. We need to get to the control room. We’ve probably got ten minutes before someone realizes Marcus isn’t checking in.”

Vi rubbed her jaw, wincing at the tender spot. “No way we can find everyone and get them out in ten.”

“No,” Caitlyn agreed, her gaze snapping toward the corridor, her mind already racing three steps ahead. “But we can cause one hell of a distraction.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The door to the control room burst open to the surprise of the four guards stationed inside. One snapped his head toward the disturbance, but he never got the chance to speak.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Four clean shots rang out, blue and red energy beams searing through the frigid air. Four bodies hit the floor in the same breath. Silence reclaimed the room, save for the low hum of monitors and the rhythmic beeping of the prison’s security grid. Caitlyn and Vi lowered their weapons, exchanged a sharp nod, and split the room, Vi heading straight for the monitors, her eyes darting furiously through security feeds, while Caitlyn’s hands hovered over the control panels, scanning the blinking lights.

“C’mon, Pow-Pow,” Vi muttered, her jaw tight, eyes narrowing as she tore through camera after camera. “Where are you?”

Then she saw them. Powder, crouched low, talking quietly to Isha. Ekko just beginning to stir behind them. Vi’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“I found them,” she said quickly. “Powder, Ekko, Isha. Block J. Jayce and Mel have to be nearby.”

Caitlyn’s fingers hovered over a glowing keyboard, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

Vi caught the look. “What’s the play?”

“Remember the Hex Lounge? When Powder was stuck in the vault?”

Vi nodded. “Emergency protocol override.”

Caitlyn’s smirk grew. “Bigger vault. Bigger emergency.”

Her fingers danced across the keys, commanding the prison’s core systems to turn on themselves. On the monitors, Vi watched as every cell door slammed open. One by one. Block by block. The inmates hesitated only for a moment before setting foot out of their cells, daring to take a step toward freedom. And then the alarms hit, blaring, relentless, and deafening.

The two shot out of the control room, tearing down corridor after corridor. The prison had erupted into a war zone. Gunfire cracking in the distance, guards and prisoners alike screaming, boots pounding against steel and concrete from every direction. It was the perfect cover, and a perfect nightmare. Every turn, every hall, was a current of bodies, guards trying to fight their way through the flood of inmates scrambling for freedom. It was impossible to track anyone. The maps in their heads, the ones they’d studied, felt like they were unraveling in the chaos.

They pressed forward, but the knot of worry was starting to tighten. “What if we can’t find them in time?” The unspoken fear buzzed in the space between them. What if they had just drowned their own crew in the chaos they’d unleashed?

They shoved past more bodies, vaulted toppled carts, sprinting hard through the carnage they’d set loose, until finally, mercifully , as they rounded a corner—

Vi slammed straight into Powder. Both of them froze, breathless, wide-eyed, as if neither quite believed what they were seeing.

“Pow…” Vi whispered.

And then they collided again, this time with arms thrown tight around each other, clinging like it had been years instead of a day.

Vi pulled back just enough to look her over, frantic. “Are you okay? Did they—”

“ Me? ” Powder laughed through the tears, shoving her sister’s shoulder. “You look like you got the shit kicked outta you.”

Vi forced a smile, swallowing down the relief burning in her chest. “Things got… creative.”

Her eyes swept over the rest of her crew—Ekko, Isha, Jayce, Mel—one chaotic, beautiful family, finally together again, as it was meant to be.

She exhaled sharply, steadying herself. “They’re not gonna get this place under control for a while. No off-world comms, no backup coming anytime soon.” She met each of their eyes, solid and sure. “We head for the impound, we get our ship back, and we get the hell out of here.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Bodies, prisoners and Enforcers alike, crashed to the ground around them as the crew made their relentless push for the impound. They couldn’t stop, they wouldn’t. It wasn’t a controlled fight. It wasn’t a perimeter breach or a tactical response. It was a massacre. The Enforcers weren’t aiming to contain the breakout. It was all about survival now. Lethal force, no questions, no hesitation.

Vi punched a guard square in the chest, her glove sending him flying back instantly as they barreled past. Caitlyn fired with precision behind them, covering their backs as Ekko shielded Isha, guiding her through the storm. Every turn, every stairwell, every corridor, they carved a bloody path through Tryndamere as they grew closer and closer to their only means of escape. 

“Up ahead!” Ekko shouted, pointing to the harshly stenciled metal sign: IMPOUND HANGAR.

The crew bolted past the sign, now at the final stretch of their escape. Vi’s heart pounded as they scrambled into the impound hangar, and there she was, The Gauntlet, her ship, her home.

A wave of relief, a feeling like gravity snapping back into place, crashed over her. She sprinted across the hangar floor, her boots thudding against the ice-slick steel until she reached the hull. Her hand pressed against it, reverent, like the ship might feel it, might know how much Vi had missed her.

“There you are,” she whispered, barely hearing herself over the chaos behind her.

Then she snapped back into command. “Ekko! Powder! Get us in The Gauntlet!” she barked. “Jayce! Mel! Find out how the hell we get the hangar bay open!”

The crew scattered, each moving with frantic purpose, just as the stampede of prisoners crashed into the hangar behind them. More were coming, dozens, maybe more, all gunning for the same exit strategy, all scrambling for the other ships waiting for pilots to command them. 

“We got you to thank for all this?” one of the prisoners called out, his eyes wide as they flicked between Caitlyn and Vi.

Vi smirked, “Yeah, guess you could say that.”

The prisoner didn’t get another word out.

A blue beam lanced across the hangar and slammed into his back, dropping him instantly.

“Company!” Vi yelled, grabbing Caitlyn and dragging her behind a stack of crates as another beam ripped through the air where they’d just been standing. The hangar erupted in chaos. Vi and Caitlyn popped up, rifles firing in rapid succession. One by one, Enforcers dropped, but for every one they gunned down, two more pushed through the entryway, and they weren’t trying to retake the prison. At this point, they were happy to bury it.

“They’re sending everything they’ve got left here!” Caitlyn shouted, her voice nearly drowned by the firefight. “We can’t hold this line!”

The hangar bay finally groaned open, metal screeching as it slid to the side, welcoming in a vicious gust of icy wind. Jayce and Mel had done their part. The exit was open, but it meant nothing without a ship in the air.

“Powder? Ekko?” Vi barked, desperation cutting through her voice.

“She’s almost open!” Ekko called back from the loading ramp, his hands a blur across the cracked interface. “But we’re still gonna need time to get Vik back online!”

“We don’t fucking have time!” Vi snapped, popping off two more shots.

“Make some!” Ekko yelled, hammering the console.

Vi’s eyes flicked toward the hangar entrance, the bottleneck where the Enforcers just kept coming. She cursed under her breath. “Any chance we can shut that door?”

Caitlyn was already shaking her head. “No control panel in here. I checked. It only closes from the outside.”

“Fuck.” Vi’s jaw clenched. They weren’t going to hold this much longer.

Isha stood frozen, her breathing sharp as the chaos swirled around her—the shouting, the gunfire, the cold wind ripping through the hangar. She looked to Powder and Ekko, who scrambled at the ship’s hatch, their hands shaking as they fought against hibernating systems to bring The Gauntlet back online. She looked to Jayce and Mel, sprinting back toward them from the hangar controls, panic flashing in their eyes. She looked to Vi and Caitlyn, locked in a brutal firefight, bolt after bolt erupting from their weapons, fighting desperately to keep everyone safe.

Safety.

She didn’t remember much of life before The Gauntlet, just small flashes. The hum of machinery. The sharp sting of needles. The bright, sterile lights that buzzed endlessly overhead. She didn’t remember love. She didn’t remember choice. Not from back then. But she remembered Powder holding her through the nightmares. She remembered Ekko’s voice explaining how to fix a busted vent. She remembered Vi trusting her with jobs on the ship, showing her how much she mattered. She remembered that love. She remembered how they’d all kept her safe. 

Now, it was her turn.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. Her body was moving before she could think, weaving through crates, slipping through narrow gaps in the chaos, driven by nothing but instinct and something deep in her chest screaming “ now, now, now!” Finally, she saw it, the control panel outside the hangar doors. The one Caitlyn said was the only way to seal the entrance.

“Isha!” Powder’s scream cut through the gunfire, raw with panic. She broke cover, trying to chase after her, but the storm of rifle bolts forced her back.

“Kid, no!” Vi yelled, vaulting after her.

“Isha! Get back here!” Ekko snapped, his voice cracking with desperation.

But Isha didn’t stop, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t hear them over the thunder in her chest, and her boots clanging against the metal floor. She had a job to do. She had a family to protect.

And this was her chance, her choice.

She slipped between the Enforcers flooding the hangar, darting past them like they weren’t even there. A fallen rifle lay at her feet. Mid-stride, she scooped it up, far too heavy for her, awkward in her small hands, but she shouldered it anyway, steady enough for just one shot.

She sprinted outside the hangar, boots skidding across the ice-crusted deck, spun on her heel, and aimed. Her breathing steadied, her arms stopped shaking.

Crack.

The recoil sent her stumbling back, but she’d done it. The blast fried the control panel in an instant, the mechanism sparking and shorting out as the hangar door slammed shut behind her. Locked. Sealed. She turned to the sound of footsteps growing closer quickly. And there they were, a swarm of Enforcers hoping to cut this escape short, but there was no way through now. Only her, a little girl, barely big enough to hold the rifle she was carrying in both hands. And despite everything—their guns, their numbers, the cold tightening around her—Isha smiled, because something inside her was waking up, something she didn’t know had ever been there, sleeping. Something that told her one absolute truth. 

Her family was safe. These Enforcers weren’t. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The final Enforcer in the hangar dropped from Caitlyn’s clean shot, his body crumpling to the frozen ground. The hatch to The Gauntlet had finally given way. Once they were able to get Viktor’s systems back online, they’d have a straight shot out of Tryndamere, but not a single one of them was moving, because just on the other side of several inches of immovable steel, the youngest member of their crew had risked everything for them.

“Isha!” Powder’s scream ripped through the hangar as she pounded her fists against the door until they throbbed. Vi was right there beside her, bracing herself against the frame, teeth gritted, muscles straining as she tried to pull the sliding door back open with everything she had, but it was shut tight. Her brute force wasn’t prying that open.

Ekko was a blur, sprinting between terminals, desperately jabbing at controls, bypassing locks, trying to override the failure. “Come on. Come on, open, open— shit! ” Nothing.

Jayce sprinted back from The Gauntlet ’s ramp, the Repulsor clutched in his hands. “Move!”

Powder and Vi moved to the side as Jayce let out a roar, swinging with everything he had.

Clang. The hammer struck. The door didn’t budge. Again.

Clang. Nothing. Again.

Clang . Not even a dent.

“Fuck!” Jayce cried, throwing his hammer across the hangar, his chest heaving.

Powder crumpled against the door, sobbing as she pressed her forehead to the cold steel. Her voice broke as she whispered, “What the fuck did you do, kid? What the fuck did you do…”

Vi pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Powder as she sobbed into her shoulder, both of them shaking. The rest of the crew stood frozen, helpless, trapped in a silence made unbearable by the sound of Powder’s heart breaking right there on the floor.

Then came the sound, an ugly, metallic groan, a shudder of protest. Startled, Vi and Powder stumbled back, staring in disbelief as the solid door began to move.

It rose, it shrieked, it shuddered like it was being torn apart. Among the grinding metal and tearing hinges, there was something else—a voice, a human voice, screaming, not in pain, but with sheer, undeniable force.

The door inched higher, sparks flying, dust and ice kicking up in blinding clouds.

And there, beneath it, was Isha. Her arms trembled violently under the crushing weight of the door. Her legs shook. Blood streaked down from her temple, her arms, her hands—but she held it.

“Isha…?” Powder whispered shakily. Her eyes locked on the little girl’s.

With a final, ragged scream, Isha shoved the door up one last time, enough to clear herself, and stumbled forward.

The door fell back down behind her with a deafening slam. She swayed on her feet, her breath shallow, her eyes glazed, but she was alive. She was here, even as she collapsed. Powder was on her in an instant, catching her before her head could hit the icy metal floor. She pulled Isha into her arms, rocking her, sobbing into her hair.

“Oh my god, Vi, she’s covered in blood!” Powder choked, panic ripping through her.

“Get her on the ship! Now!” Vi barked, snapping the crew into motion. “Ekko! Get Vik online! Caitlyn! Help Powder with Isha! Jayce! Mel! Get to engineering, and make sure our ship’s guts are where they’re supposed to be!”

The crew sprinted for The Gauntlet , the weight of the moment still crushing their chests, still catching in their throats, because Isha had saved them, and it might’ve just cost her everything.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Caitlyn!” Powder’s voice rang out from the med bay, frantic, terrified.

Caitlyn was at her side in an instant, her hands already moving before her mind could catch up. At first glance, it was horrifying. Isha was covered in blood. It was matted in her hair, caked on her face, soaked into her clothes. It was everywhere. This girl didn’t have much time. Caitlyn’s hands moved quickly, carefully, wiping at the girl’s face, brushing blood-soaked strands of hair away from her eyes, searching for the damage, only to realize…

There wasn’t any.

Caitlyn’s hand trembled slightly as she leaned in closer, brushing Isha’s hair out of her eyes, her fingers trailing down her arms, searching… nothing.

“This…” Caitlyn whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the ship as it slowly came to life. She wiped Isha’s cheek again, as if the blood might somehow reveal a hidden wound. “This isn’t hers.”

Powder’s breath hitched. “What?”

“There isn’t a scratch on her,” Caitlyn said, her eyes wide, her voice somewhere between awe and fear. She ran the scanner over Isha again just to be sure. Her vitals were strained but stabilizing. There was no injury, no sign of trauma, nothing.

None of this blood was hers.

Powder stared at Isha like she was seeing her for the first time. “But… but there was so much.”

“I know,” Caitlyn whispered, not quite believing what she was looking at herself. “But Powder… Isha’s completely fine.”

Isha’s eyes fluttered, barely able to stay open, but she looked up at Powder with the faintest hint of a smile. She was exhausted, but she was safe, she was alive.

Powder’s voice cracked as the words slipped out of her, soft, shaking, disbelieving. “What… are you, kid?”

The question hung there, unanswered, as the little girl let herself slip into a dream, the smile still on her face.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

"Systems online. Analyzing… this unit was offline for approximately thirty-six hours. Captain?"

Vi let out a long, shaky breath, finally letting some of the weight off her shoulders. "Hey, buddy. Long story short, Enforcers are fucking assholes. Glad you’re back."

"I will add that observation to my files on the Unified Systems Enforcers."

A tired laugh escaped her. "Yeah, you do that. Think you can get us out of here?"

"Affirmative, Captain. Destination?"

She smiled faintly, already picturing sand and sun. "Somewhere warm."

"Acknowledged. Plotting course for Shurima. Prepare for takeoff."

Vi leaned back in her chair, scrubbing her hands over her face as if she could wash away the last couple of days. Next to her, Ekko all but collapsed into his seat, the exhaustion finally catching up to both of them.

“Hell of a bounty job, huh?” Vi muttered, voice rough with fatigue.

Ekko let out a breathy laugh, not quite amused, not quite bitter, just tired.

She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "Go."

He frowned, confused. "What about—?"

Vi gave him a small, encouraging smile. "My sister, the kid, they need you. Go."

For a second, Ekko hesitated, but he nodded, then made his way to the med bay without another word.

Vi stayed behind, the hum of the ship’s engines spinning up beneath her, the silence settling just long enough to let her breathe, and, despite herself, laugh.

They’d done it. She and Caitlyn, with half a plan that had gone wrong from the start, had walked straight into the most notoriously brutal prison in the galaxy. They walked right through the front fucking door, and took everything that was theirs. Vander would be proud. Furious at the utter lack of planning, but proud. 

Two gentle hands settled on her shoulders. Vi’s eyes closed, a quiet sigh of relief spilled out of her. That touch—soft, sure, unmistakably her.

Vi reached up, finding one of Caitlyn’s hands and brought it to her lips. “Hey,” she murmured against her knuckles.

Caitlyn moved around to the front of the chair, leaning casually against the console. “How’s Isha?” Vi asked, her thumb still grazing Caitlyn’s hand.

“Believe it or not,” Caitlyn said, shaking her head like she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it, “she’s perfectly fine.”

“Fine? ” Vi repeated, skeptical.

“Fine. As in, zero injuries. Not a scratch. All that blood?” Caitlyn’s brows rose. “Enforcers.”

“Jesus…” Vi muttered, dragging a hand down her face.

“Yeah, that’s…” Caitlyn exhaled a tired, breathy laugh. “That’s a mystery for another day.” Her gaze lingered on Vi, softening. “But you,” she stepped closer, cupping Vi’s bruised face, thumbs brushing over two blackened eyes then tracing her split lip, “need to let me take a look at you.”

“Cait, I’m—” Vi started.

“Violet.” Caitlyn’s voice cut through her protest, firm but fond. “You look like a pit fighter. Quit playing tough and—oh!”

Vi tugged her down into her lap, arms wrapping securely around her waist. “Well, Doctor Kiramman,” she smirked, “how’s it look now?”

Color rushed to Caitlyn’s cheeks. The feeling of Vi’s arms around her again, the warmth of Vi’s lap beneath her…it brought her right back to last night. The cold, the sleeping bag, the heat, god, the heat they’d created.

Caitlyn cleared her throat, fighting to keep her composure. “That’s Chief Science Officer Kiramman.” She corrected, though her scolding tone melted quickly. “And… I’m not sure yet. I’d need to conduct a more thorough evaluation.”

Vi hummed, teasing, her hand rising to Caitlyn’s cheek. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitched as she leaned in, their lips finally meeting again, slow and deliberate. She shifted her weight in Vi’s lap, deepening the kiss, creating just the slightest bit of friction—

"I called it!" Jayce’s voice rang out, startling them both. Caitlyn nearly fell out of Vi’s lap, her hands gripping Vi’s shoulders to steady herself.

Vi twisted around to glare at the source of the interruption. There stood Jayce, his arm slung casually around Mel, both of them looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

“Called what?” Vi asked, still scowling at him.

“That you guys were totally gonna do it,” Jayce smirked.

“ Jayce! ” Vi snapped.

“I—um—” Caitlyn floundered, face burning.

Mel laughed, nudging Jayce hard in the ribs. “What he means to say,” she stepped in, voice smooth, but very clearly amused, “is that he was confident this situation would… strengthen your bond.”

“That’s… certainly another way to put it,” Vi muttered, dragging a hand through her hair.

Jayce laughed, entirely unbothered. “Hey, no judgment. I’m just saying, we all—”

Vi’s eyes snapped to him, sharp and dangerous. “Jayce, I swear to god, I will drop you back off at Tryndamere.”

His hands shot up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! We’ll leave you alone. Just… maybe consider using your quarters. You know, that place on the ship with a lock on the door?”

Vi pointed, firmly and unamused. “ Out. ”

Jayce laughed all the way down the hall. Mel lingered, though, her gaze soft as it rested on Caitlyn, quietly, warmly satisfied. Her best friend was where she needed to be, with who she needed to be with. She gave a small nod, then turned and followed Jayce out of the cockpit.

Vi groaned, letting her head fall back against the seat . “Unbelievable.”

Caitlyn smiled fondly as she looked down at her captain. “He’s right, you know,” she murmured, pressing light kisses to each bruise scattered across Vi’s face.

Vi laughed a little sheepishly. “Yeah. I guess it all feels kinda… stupid now, huh? I mean, fuck, how long were we dancing around this? And speaking of ‘this’, I guess now we probably need to figure out what ‘this’ is. I think we’re on the same page, but maybe we should—”

“Violet,” Caitlyn interrupted gently, placing a finger to Vi’s lips.

Vi blinked up at her. “Hmm?”

Caitlyn’s grin widened, teasing, her eyes sparkled. “I meant… he’s right about your quarters having a lock on the door.”

Chapter Text

The two weeks of absolutely nothing had been exactly what the crew needed after escaping Tryndamere. For once, adventure could wait. In fact, the most daring they’d been was the two days they’d spent soaking up the sun on a quiet Shurimanian beach, just long enough to almost forget how brutally cold Freljord had been. Isha had discovered seaweed, Jayce had discovered the importance of sunscreen, and Vi had discovered that jellyfish hurt like a motherfucker. But beyond that? The last two weeks had been… blissfully quiet.

Of course, quiet never lasted long on The Gauntlet.

“Listen up!” Mel called the room to attention. Ekko, Powder, Isha, and Jayce all glanced over at Mel, who stood at the holotable, tapping through several screens as she pulled up a projection of the Noxian moon, Ixtal. The crew shuffled to the table, all eyeing the projection curiously. 

“Ixtal?” Powder muttered. “No fucking thank you. I’d feel safer back in Tryndamere.”

Mel nodded, expecting the reaction. This crew didn’t want anything to do with the Noxian-occupied moon, and she couldn’t say she blamed them, but this was important, even if they didn’t know it yet. 

“Yes, Ixtal. I know it’s not exactly a vacation destination like Shurima, but this is important,” Mel said firmly. “Captain Lanes, are you familiar with—?” She stopped, scanning the room. Vi wasn’t here, she hadn’t been. And now that she was paying attention, neither had Caitlyn.

“Has anyone seen—?” She began.

“Do you really have to ask?” Jayce smirked.

Mel sighed. “God, again?”

“‘Again’ would imply they ever stopped,” Powder muttered.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Oh, fuck,” Vi groaned as she clung to the pillow behind her head. “Fuck, Cait, I’m…” She arched her back, releasing a cry of pleasure that filled the silence of the captain’s quarters as Caitlyn brought her to ruin with her tongue. Slowly, the moans quieted, and her breath steadied as she came down from the intoxicating high. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a laugh, her fingers lazily running through her hair. 

From beneath the sheets, Caitlyn emerged with a wicked little smirk as she wiped her mouth. “No notes?” she teased.

Vi didn’t answer, she couldn’t. She just shook her head, a lazy, blissful smile plastered across her face. Caitlyn giggled and leaned in, pressing a slow, tender kiss to Vi’s lips, then pulled back just enough to take her in.  She’d never get tired of this, her touch, her taste, the way Vi held her, the way Vi loved her. God, Vi loved her. Even now, it still didn’t feel real. Every time Vi said it, it caught her off guard like she was mishearing her.

“You’re doing it again,” Vi murmured, eyes half-closed.

“Doing what?” Caitlyn blinked.

“Staring.” Vi smirked.

“I… wasn’t staring! I was thinking!” Caitlyn protested, convincing neither of them.

“Uh-huh. Thinking about?” Vi asked smugly.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “About how baffling it is that a woman as smart as I am could fall in love with an absolute—”

“Heartthrob?” Vi offered. “Dashing adventurer? Goddess, maybe?”

“Idiot.” Caitlyn answered flatly.

Vi chuckled. “Funny, you didn’t think I was such an idiot earlier,” her hand slid down Caitlyn’s waist, fingers gently brushing over her hip and to her inner thigh, pulling a shaky breath from her.

“Maybe... I need a reminder,” Caitlyn said softly, tilting her head, bring her lips to Vi’s again, deeper, hungrier now.

BANG. BANG. BANG. 

They both jumped at the sound.

“Put your clothes on and get to the war room!” Powder’s voice rang out, muffled but clearly exasperated. “And for the love of god, find a hobby or something!”

Vi groaned, forehead resting against Caitlyn’s shoulder as they both failed to fight back their fits of laughter.

“Later?” Vi asked.

Caitlyn’s smile softened. “Later.”

The two reluctantly slipped into their clothes. Vi, of course, wasn’t shy about sneaking final glances before Caitlyn’s bare skin was cruelly hidden away once more. They made their way to the war room, doing their best to look professional, which lasted all of five seconds.

Mel cleared her throat as the two entered. “Thank you both for joining us. I do hope we aren’t… interrupting anything?”

Vi smirked. “Nah. Just finished, actually.”

“Jeeeesus, ” Powder groaned. 

Caitlyn’s face went bright red. “Vi…” she hissed under her breath.

“Lovely,” Mel deadpanned, bringing her attention back to the holotable, where the moon of Ixtal hovered ominously in projection. “Shall we?”

Vi grinned, slipping her arm around Caitlyn’s waist as they stepped closer. “By all means.”

“We’ve been contacted by the Ixtal Relief Effort.” Mel continued, not looking away from the projection. “They need help bringing an aid shipment to the Ixtali on the ground.”

“Relief shipment?” Powder raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she studied the glowing moon projected over the holotable. “We suddenly a humanitarian group?”

Mel allowed herself the faintest smirk. “As much as I’d love to believe in our crew’s charitable spirit, it’s worth mentioning the IRE is willing to pay us handsomely for the trouble.”

“How handsomely are we talking?” Vi asked, curiosity piqued.

“Try ten thousand credits handsomely.” Mel tapped the figure on the screen.

“Fuck me,” Powder exhaled, eyes wide. 

“Considering Noxus has that entire moon surrounded, I’d hope we were being paid well,” Ekko muttered. 

It was true, the Noxian blockade around Ixtal was going to make this difficult. Noxus had the moon in a vice grip, their warships wrapped around it like a noose. For months, there’d been rumblings across the Fringe Worlds about the occupation, but nothing loud enough to spark real change. And the Core Worlds? They were all too happy to look the other way. It was easier to let one of their own do as they pleased, easier to dress it up in clean language. Noxus was defending itself. Noxus was responding to aggression. Noxus was ensuring stability.

Defending itself? The notion was laughable. Defending itself against what? A single moon with a fraction of Noxus’ forces? A population starving under blockade? A people who depended entirely on Noxus to let food and medicine through the gates? They had no fleet, no resources, no chance. But the narrative was the point. It always was. Noxus didn’t need to tell the truth, not when enough people were comfortable with believing a convenient lie. 

“The leader of the IRE has assured me they’ve put together a solid plan in collaboration with several other mercenary crews. Everybody plays their part, the Ixtali get food, water, and medicine, and we get one hell of a payday.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “The leader of the IRE, huh? Is there anyone in this galaxy you don’t know, Mel?”

Mel’s smile was proud. “I know him better than most, actually.” She tapped on the console, and the holotable flickered to a new image. A man’s face. Strong features, a bushy beard, and eyes that looked oddly familiar.

“Meet Kino Medarda,” she said, her voice softer now. “Leader of the Ixtal Relief Effort… and my brother.”

Caitlyn’s jaw dropped at the name and image. “Kino left the Noxian Guard?”

“And did one hell of a one-eighty, apparently,” Powder muttered.

Mel nodded, her gaze lingering on her brother’s image, somewhere between pride and ache. “He deserted shortly after the occupation began. Said he’d seen enough, he knew he’d been on the wrong side of history.”

Jayce whistled low. “I can’t imagine your mom took that particularly well.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Mel laughed, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “Pretty sure Mother would kill him on sight if she ever saw him again.”

“You mentioned a solid plan,” Vi cut in, eyes narrowing. “Your brother had better be one hell of a strategist if we’re supposed to get past that blockade.”

Mel’s confident smile only deepened. “Oh, Captain, you have no idea.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The Gauntlet latched onto the massive cargo ship with a series of metallic groans and hydraulic hisses. Once the docking was complete, Vi led her crew aboard the freighter’s sprawling cargo bay, boots echoing against steel.

“Captain!” A polished voice called out across the cavernous space, crisp and sure, much like his sister’s. “Welcome aboard The Liberator!" Vi barely had time to register the man’s voice before Mel shot ahead, abandoning all formality.

“Kino!” she called, laughing as she launched herself into her brother’s arms. He caught her effortlessly, spinning her, just like they were kids again.

“Mel,” he said warmly, still holding her. “I’d ask what you’ve been up to, but I don’t need to look much further than the headlines.” His grin turned teasing. “My little sister, the escaped convict.”

“And my brother, Noxian turncoat,” she fired back without missing a beat.

Kino tried to keep a straight face but it quickly cracked as he broke into laughter. “Mother must be so proud of us both.”

Vi cleared her throat, stepping forward as the siblings’ laughter settled. Kino’s eyes flicked to her with immediate recognition, lighting up like he’d just spotted a celebrity.

“Captain Lanes,” he greeted, his tone shifting to something more polished, but the smile didn’t leave his face. He extended a hand, firm, steady. “You’ve been giving the Unified Systems quite the headache lately.”

Vi took his hand, her grip firm. “Just Vi is fine. And I’d be a lot less of a headache if they’d just leave us the fuck alone.”

Kino chuckled, releasing her hand with a nod of solidarity. “Wouldn’t we all?” He took a moment to study the crew that the people of Ixtal would soon be trusting with their survival. Then he gestured for them to follow. “Come,” he said, his voice steady but urgent. “We’ve got much to discuss, and very little time to do so.”

The crew fell into step behind Kino as he led them deeper into The Liberator . Vi’s eyes drifted to the people around them, each one locked in a rhythm of frantic, purposeful movement. She watched as a pair of engineers patched together a battered supply shuttle with whatever scrap they could find. A team of medics rushed past, their arms loaded with crates of gauze, vaccines, and plasma packs. A young  boy barely older than Isha directed the loading of water purifiers onto cargo pallets like lives depended on it, because, well, they did.

“Damn,” Vi muttered as she took it all in. “You guys are working overtime.”

Kino gave a tired nod. “The Ixtali can’t afford for us not to. Every day Noxus tightens the blockade, lets them go hungrier, thirstier, sicker. And that’s not even mentioning the orbital strikes.”

“Orbital strikes?” Caitlyn echoed, like she’d misheard. She hadn’t.

Kino’s expression hardened, his voice dropping like a stone. “‘High-risk targets,’ that’s what they call them. Know what we call them?”

Caitlyn swallowed, already bracing for the answer.

“Schools.” He clenched his jaw. “Hospitals.” He caught the shock on Caitlyn’s face. “Astounding how little of the truth actually makes it off the surface of that moon, isn’t it?”

A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the group as they followed Kino, the weight of what was coming pressing down on them. This wasn’t just another job. Wasn’t just credits for cargo. This was a glimpse into something ugly the rest of the galaxy opted to pretend wasn’t there. 

Finally, Kino opened a reinforced door and led them inside. The room was dimly lit by the blue glow of projected schematics. Maps, diagrams, and flight paths littered the walls, some holographic, some hastily hand-drawn. At the center of it all hovered a projection of Ixtal, its surface ringed by red markers.

“My people are organizing the aid as we speak,” Kino said, stepping to the holotable. “But this is what the Ixtali are facing. Shipbreakers, depth charges, squadrons of fighters. If you’re not Noxian, you don’t get through.”

“Well, I’ve got bad news,” Powder muttered, arms folded. “We’re not Noxian.”

Kino smirked. “No, but you’re going to be.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow. “You steal a Noxian ship?”

“Not quite.” Kino tapped a flashing marker on the map. “Why steal the whole ship when you can steal its identity?”

“The transponder,” Jayce realized aloud, the idea clicking into place.

Kino nodded. “Exactly. I’ve got another merc crew handling that end. They’re hitting a Noxian patrol cruiser and pulling the transponder. Once we install it on The Gauntlet, and give her a coat of red and black paint, you’ll look like any other Noxian patrol ship. And I can tell you from experience, they won’t look twice.” 

Vi narrowed her eyes. “Taking out a Noxian cruiser, having the gentle touch to recover an intact transponder off of it, you need someone who really knows what they’re doing. You hire someone good?”

“The best, actually,” a voice answered from behind them, far too confident, and definitely too familiar. Vi didn’t look, she didn’t have to. She simply closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Powder groaned.

“Really?” Sarah Fortune pouted, her voice dripping with mock offense. “Even after I've helped the ‘good guys’, this is the welcome I get?”

“You didn’t sell us out to the Enforcers,” Vi muttered, finally turning to face her, “what do you want, a medal?”

Sarah’s eyes swept over Vi, slow and intentional, like she was scanning a menu and finding herself particularly hungry.

“Oh, Violet,” she purred, “I can think of a few other ways you could show your appreciation.”

“And she won’t be entertaining a single one of them,” Caitlyn cut in, voice sharp and certain, as she stepped closer and, very deliberately, slipped an arm around Vi’s waist.

Sarah’s smile widened, clocking every bit of the gesture. “Well, well. The doctor finally made her move.” She tilted her head at Vi. “Tell me, Violet, how’s her… bedside manner?”

“Can’t seem to recall her having any complaints,” Caitlyn replied coldly. For a moment, neither woman blinked. Sarah seemed thoroughly amused, while Caitlyn was daring her to open her mouth again.

Finally, Sarah relented with a soft laugh, turning her attention to Kino. “We’ve got your transponder. My boys are unloading it now. Perfect condition, of course.”

Kino nodded, eager to move past the friction. “And the ship?”

Sarah smirked. “There’s barely a ship left to find.”

Kino sighed, shoulders easing with relief. He turned back to Vi and her crew. “Give us a few hours to set up The Gauntlet. After that, you’re headed for Ixtal.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“C’mon, kid,” Powder urged gently, crouching beside her. “One more try.”

“Powder…” Ekko cut in cautiously.

Powder waved him off. “She can do this. You saw what she did back on Freljord, we both did.” She nodded at Isha. “You got this.”

Isha nodded, jaw clenched tight as she shut her eyes and gave everything she had. Her arms trembled as she strained against the base of the heavy shipping container, something that, under normal circumstances, Powder would’ve been called insane for suggesting a ten-year-old try to lift. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Two weeks ago, Isha had lifted a reinforced hangar door. Lifted it. A door that Vi couldn’t move, that Jayce’s hammer couldn’t even dent. And since then? Nothing. She’d passed out cold that day, and when she woke up, she could barely remember what had happened. Powder had asked gently, hopefully, desperately. But every question she had was met with a shrug, a confused stare, or a head shake. And now, watching her give one last strained push, her arms shaking, face scrunched, feet digging into the floor, only to collapse in frustration, Powder knew for sure. It was gone. Whatever had happened at Tryndamere Prison wasn’t coming back, not today. Isha looked up at her, guilt across her face, like she’d let her down somehow. 

“Pow… we can’t push her,” Ekko sighed.

Powder looked at Isha, saw the expression on her face, and immediately knew Ekko was right. She’d wanted to see it happen again, wanted to understand what this strength was, how it worked. But maybe she’d been pushing too hard, and now, there was a little girl frustrated over something that she didn’t seem to have any control over.  She softened, opening her arms to Isha. “C’mere,” she murmured.

Isha didn’t hesitate. She sank into the hug, burying her face in Powder’s shoulder. Powder squeezed her tight, one hand rubbing slow circles into the girl’s back.

“It’s alright,” she murmured. “We’ll figure it out. The important thing is, I was right.”

Isha tilted her head up, brows furrowed curiously.

Powder smirked. “You’re a total badass.”

That got a giggle. Isha nuzzled in tighter, and Powder closed her eyes with a smile on her face. She didn’t have any answers. She didn’t know what switch had flipped inside this girl that day. Maybe it would come back, maybe it wouldn’t.

But she was safe. She was home.

And for now, that was enough.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Caitlyn had been quiet, though Vi wouldn’t call her distant. If anything, the doctor had been glued to her side since Sarah had once again managed to worm her way back into their lives, and Vi wasn’t blind to it. For the past twenty minutes, Caitlyn hadn’t stopped glaring at the cluster of pirates across the bay. Or more specifically, at their captain.

“Cait…” Vi said gently.

“What?” Caitlyn muttered, eyes locked on Sarah.

“You, uh… you alright?”

“Fine.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “You seem... on edge.”

Caitlyn shrugged. “I don’t trust her. Do you blame me?”

Vi gave a short laugh and shook her head. “No, can’t say I do.” She watched her girlfriend’s stiff posture, and couldn’t help but give a knowing smirk. “That all?”

Caitlyn tore her gaze from Sarah to give Vi an incredulous look. “Violet, that woman held me hostage, tried to blow your ship out of skipspace, and the only reason she didn’t sell us out to the Enforcers on Bilge was because you guilt-tripped her over—oh, that’s right—another time she tried to kill you. What do you mean, ‘that all’?”

Vi bit her lip, eyes glinting with amusement. “I just think… maybe…”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Caitlyn.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Caaaaaitlyn,” Vi sang.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, stepping away to cross her arms in defiance. “You’re being ridiculous. I am not—”

“Violet!” Sarah’s voice rang out across the deck. She was making her way toward them, every step radiating confidence. And just like that, Caitlyn’s arm slid right back around Vi’s waist. Vi shot her an amused side glance.

“The transponder’s in place,” Sarah announced with a smirk. “Your ship’s responding perfectly. As far as any scanner is concerned, you’re one of the bad guys now.”

Vi nodded. “Good work getting it back in one piece.”

Sarah gave her a wink and sauntered off toward her crew, well aware of Caitlyn’s stare burning a hole into her back.

Vi tilted her head up at Caitlyn. “So…”

“Shut up.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“…And then Caitlyn—yes, Caitlyn —tased an Enforcer, and that was basically our point of no return,” Mel said with a faint laugh, glancing at Jayce. “So we asked them to let us come with them and… well…” She shrugged, smiling. “The rest is history.”

Kino chuckled, shaking his head. “And this whole casino heist…” he gave Jayce a look, “… it was your idea?”

“In theory, it was flawless,” Jayce protested.

“As all great disasters are,” Kino smirked.

Mel’s smile faded, her head tilting. “You never told me what happened… why you left the Noxian Guard.”

The change in Kino’s face was immediate. The smirk was gone, the lines in his brow deepened. “Didn’t feel like something to discuss over comms.”

Mel nodded, reaching for his hands. “Well, I’m here now.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then inhaled slowly. His eyes flicked to Jayce, just for a second, but it was enough to make Jayce shift in his chair.

“Sorry,” Jayce muttered as he stood, “I should give you two—”

“No.” Kino’s tone was firm. “Stay. You should hear this.”

Jayce hesitated, glancing over at Mel, who nodded. Jayce sat back down and prepared himself for what was sure to be hard to listen to.

“It was five cycles ago,” Kino began, his voice steady but heavy. “A Noxian aid transport was sent to Ixtal. A few cruisers were assigned to escort it, make sure nothing got… out of hand. I was on one of those cruisers.” He paused, his eyes distant, his posture stiff. “The Ixtali came out, just a handful at first. Then more, desperate for food, water, medicine… anything. They crowded around the transport.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s when the order came down. Open fire. ”

“Jesus…” Jayce muttered.

Mel’s hand flew to her mouth. “Kino…”

“I didn’t even have time to argue,” Kino said quietly. “The gunners started shooting without question. Just… shot after shot until the Ixtali were dead or hiding again.” His jaw tightened. “The Ixtali reports said there were over eighty dead. God knows how many were wounded. You know what our official statement was?”

Jayce nodded as he recalled an article he’d seen on his datapad. “…Warning shots.”

Kino nodded. “That’s right. They claimed the death toll was exaggerated. Said we fired to ‘disperse an immediate threat.’” His eyes locked on Mel. “There were no warning shots. Those rifles were aimed at men, women, and children. All they wanted was enough to survive.”

Mel’s voice trembled. “That’s… that’s—”

“A galactic offense?” Kino’s tone was bitter. “A war crime? Not when Ambessa Medarda gives the order. Then it’s just another casualty of the so-called ‘Ixtali terror threat.’”

“…And that’s when you left.”

Kino nodded. “I couldn’t tell myself it was about defense anymore. Couldn’t pretend we were securing the orbit. Couldn’t pretend Mother was doing what was best for our people.” His voice broke slightly on the last words. His gaze drifted across the bustling maps and terminals, to the crew moving crates, fine tuning equipment, preparing for something bigger than themselves. A faint, almost reluctant pride softened his expression.

“I don’t believe I’ll ever truly make up for what I stood by and allowed,” he said quietly, “but this…” He nodded toward the controlled chaos all around them. “This feels like a pretty damn good start.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi stood in the cockpit, arms crossed, staring through a viewport at The Gauntlet’s fresh coat of Noxian red and black. The colors bled over the ship’s familiar frame like a bad wound. They stripped away every ounce of her identity and replaced it with something cold, something monstrous. Vi kept telling herself it was temporary, that once the job was done, she’d get her ship back. Back to the muted grey and deep blue she knew so well. But right now, she could hardly stand to look at her.

“Fuckin’ ugly, huh?” Powder muttered, coming up beside her.

Vi’s jaw flexed. “Fuckin’ ugly,” she agreed.

“You know,” Powder started casually, “when we repaint The Gauntlet after this, we could—”

“We’re not doing the Lux pinup,” Vi cut in flatly.

“Aw, come on,” Powder whined.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ve still got the reference picture!”

“Yeah,” Vi muttered, rolling her eyes, “of course you do. Still no.”

Powder folded her arms in defeat. “Fine. Guess you hate art.”

Before Vi could answer, Viktor’s voice came through, calm as ever. “Captain, we are approaching the blockade. Submitting to their scan in two minutes.”

“Thanks, Vik.” Vi called out. “Alright, everyone, radio silence until we’re clear.” She slid into the pilot’s chair, fingers flexing against the controls, bracing herself for whatever was coming next. She didn’t have to look to know Caitlyn was there, she felt the shift in the air before Cait slid into the copilot’s chair. A warm hand found hers, grounding her.

“It’ll work,” Caitlyn murmured. “It has to.”

Vi’s jaw unclenched just a little. Caitlyn was right, she always was. This would work perfectly fine. 

A burst of static filled the cabin, followed by a clipped, metallic voice. “USSC Atlas, hold for scan.”

Everyone froze, every small sound in the cabin suddenly deafening. Vi kept her eyes forward, watching the readouts tick by as the transponder fed the blockade their cover—ship identity, mission orders, clearance codes.

It felt like an eternity before the voice returned. “Atlas, you are clear. Proceed.”

Vi exhaled sharply, the muscles in her shoulders finally relaxing. The transponder had done its job. No questions. No suspicious follow-ups. Just a free pass through a wall of Noxian guns.

The whole exchange had gone without a single word. Good. The less she had to talk to these shifty, self-serving war pigs, the better.

“Vik, head for the coordinates Kino gave us,” Vi ordered once they were clear.

“Affirmative, Captain. We will be touching down on Ixtal in five minutes.”

“Captain Lanes,” Kino’s voice crackled through, “it looks like you've slipped through the blockade. I take it all is well?”

“Yeah, we’re good, Kino. The transponder worked like a charm. Touching down in five.”

“Excellent work,” he sighed with relief. There was a short pause before he spoke again, his voice quieter now, heavier. “I’d suggest you prepare yourself, Captain. Whatever you’ve seen about Ixtal… it’s only a fraction of what Noxus has done.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

It wasn’t until the crew descended the ramp onto what was left of the landing pad that they truly understood Kino’s warning. The air was acrid with the smell of scorched metal and the faint copper tang of dried blood caked into the dust all around them. So much of what had at one time been a city lay in ruin. Skeletal frames of once-proud buildings were jutting up from the rubble like broken bones. Streets had been demolished by orbital strikes, leaving craters deep enough to swallow buildings whole.

Everywhere they looked, the signs of Noxus’s “security measures” were carved into the moon’s surface. Water lines were severed and left unrepaired, forcing people to haul rusted canisters from barely working wells. Supply drops were reduced to ash. Schools and hospitals were stripped bare and burned, their walls peppered with the unmistakable scorch marks of rifle fire. The few clinics still standing were overflowed with the sick and injured, their entrances lined with the people waiting for treatment that might never come.

And then there were the people… thin, hollow-eyed, moving through the wreckage of the city like ghosts. Some stopped to watch the newcomers, their faces hard with suspicion, others ran at the sight of the Noxian colors on The Gauntlet. Children clung to parents with dirt-streaked, bloody hands, their eyes looked far older than they should have.

“This isn’t just an occupation…” Jayce muttered as he took it all in, “This place is being strangled to death.”

He looked out at the ruined landscape with a sickening realization. He’d had a hand in so much of this devastation. Hextech had provided cutting edge weaponry to all of the Unified Systems joint forces, Enforcers and Noxian Guard alike, for years. How much of the damage here was done by a prototype he’d greenlit? A weapon he’d pushed into mass production? A deal he’d brokered with the galactic ministry of defense?

He froze when he noticed her, a small girl, maybe ten, standing barefoot on the cracked street. Dust clung to her hair, her clothes, and her skin. Her thin frame was half-hidden behind a toppled piece of wall. She watched him with a mix of curiosity and fear, eyes flicking between his face and the imposing ship he and the others had come from.

Jayce’s hand instinctively went to his satchel. He knew he had it… somewhere…there. The last chocolate protein bar. He crouched so they were eye-level, holding it out carefully to show he meant no harm.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said gently, shaking the bar just enough to catch her attention. “You hungry?”

She didn’t move from behind the cover at first. Her gaze darted to the bar, then back to him, like she was weighing the danger against the promise of food. Finally, she shuffled forward in tentative steps. She snatched it from his hand, ripped the wrapper open, and took a quick bite, chewing fast, as if afraid someone might take it away.

Jayce smiled softly. “Good, huh?”

But before the girl could answer, a sharp voice cut through the air. A woman with frightened eyes stormed over, grabbing the child by the arm. She pulled her back as she harshly scolded her in Ixtali, her words quick and clipped. Then her eyes turned to Jayce, hard and unblinking. It wasn’t the blank suspicion of someone who didn’t know him. It was the hostility of someone who thought they already did. She said nothing in Common, but the message in her glare was clear: You are not welcome here.

“I…” Jayce’s eyes darted back to The Gauntlet, the angry red and black paint screaming Noxian authority to anyone within sight. “We aren’t with them!” But the words fell flat. The woman didn’t slow, didn’t look back, she just gripped her daughter’s wrist tighter and kept pulling her away.

A gentle hand found his arm, pulling his eyes from the girl and her mother. Mel’s voice was quiet but steady. “We’re here to help them,” she said, eyes staring deeply in his. “And we will. All of them.”

Jayce drew in a breath and nodded, letting her guide him back toward the others. Ahead, Vi stood with a woman in worn fatigues. 

“Apologies for the cold reception. Your ship’s colors aren’t exactly… comforting down here.” She extended a hand. “Gert.”

“Vi,” the captain replied, taking it firmly. “Sorry about the colors, only way we were getting through.”

Gert nodded. “Kino warned me as much.” She glanced over her shoulder at the slow-forming crowd hovering at the edges of the square. They didn’t step closer, not yet. But they watched, drawn to the sight of one of their own speaking openly, even comfortably, with outsiders who came bearing the colors of their oppressors. She looked back at the crew, and offered a small smile. 

“Let’s get to work.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

One by one, the crates were hauled down The Gauntlet’s ramp, food, water, and medical supplies stacked high and handed off to waiting hands. Vi’s crew worked shoulder to shoulder with Gert and a handful of Ixtali strong enough to lift the crates. With each crate that hit the ground, the gathering grew. At first it was only a few curious onlookers. Then more appeared, drawn from alleys and doorways, their numbers swelling with every trip down the ramp. The air was tight with unspoken questions. Was it real? Was it safe? Was this help actually meant for them, or was it another cruel trick, another ration they’d be forced to watch slip away? But the crates kept coming. No Noxians were there to snatch them back. No weapons were leveled at the crowd. Just the heavy thud of crate after crate, and a quiet, daring flicker of hope that maybe they weren’t as alone as they’d thought. 

When the last crate thudded onto the cracked pavement, silence settled over the square. The crew of The Gauntlet stood on one side, the people of Ixtal on the other. Two disconnected worlds, watching each other. No one moved. Not yet.

Gert broke the quiet, leaning toward Vi. “Feeling talkative, Captain?”

“Do they speak Common?” Vi asked.

“Not many,” Gert said, “but I’ll translate.”

Vi nodded and stepped forward, ready to speak, until she caught sight of Jayce. He wasn’t looking at her or the crates. His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on every face as if he could commit each one to memory. There was something heavy in his expression, and she knew, without really knowing why, that this moment should be his.

“Jayce!” she called.

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “Captain?”

“You’re a better talker than me.” She tilted her head toward the wall of wary eyes.

“You want me to…?” he began, his voice tight. Vi didn’t say anything else, just nodded in response. 

He glanced down at Mel, who simply gave his arm a steady squeeze. “Go.”

Jayce took a breath, stepped forward, and faced the crowd.

“I know…” he began, voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “I know what our ship looks like. I know what these colors mean to you.”

Gert’s voice carried the words to the crowd. Murmurs rippled through them, suspicious, but listening.

“We are not them. We’re not Noxians, we’re not Enforcers. We came here because you deserve food, water, and medicine… not fear. Not hunger. Not violence from a force that refuses to let you live.

Again, the translation. This time, a few in the crowd shifted forward.

“I can’t change what’s been done to your home,” Jayce went on, his chest tight, “but I can promise this: I won’t look away. Not today, not tomorrow, not until you have the resources and freedom you deserve.”

The crowd was still for a long moment after Gert spoke his words. Jayce’s hands nervously fidgeted at his sides, but he forced himself to hold their gaze. Finally, one figure moved forward, then another, and another. Jayce felt his body ease up as he finally let himself breathe. Mel gave his arm another squeeze.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” she said softly.

Jayce gave a half-shrug, still watching the crowd. “I dunno. Probably could’ve.”

She tilted her head, smirking now. “Yeah… probably.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Jayce hadn’t said much on the way back up to The Liberator. Even now, as the crews of the Gauntlet, Liberator, even the pirate crew of The Syren celebrated a job well done, Vi couldn’t help noticing her engineer, typically partying the loudest, sitting quietly, nursing a drink and staring out of the viewport.

So, drink in hand, she sauntered over. “What’s the deal, Pretty Boy?” She nudged his arm. “You’ve got that same look you had when we had to replace the power couplings in the engine bay.”

Jayce smiled faintly but didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed on Ixtal in the distance, the ring of blockade ships encircling it. “We did something really good today, Captain,” he said at last.

Vi nodded. “Yeah, we did… so why do you look like we didn’t?”

He exhaled slowly, finally pulling his eyes from the viewport to meet hers. “Vi, I did a lot of bad shit before I joined this crew. Maybe not always directly, but the damage I did working for Hextech…” He shook his head. “It’s not something you just… wipe clean with a fresh start.”

Vi placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s not you anymore, Jayce. That’s not who I know, who any of us know. You said it yourself, we did something really good today.”

“But it’s not enough, Captain,” he said firmly. “Not for me.”

Her brow furrowed. “So… what do you wanna do?”

Jayce shut his eyes for a moment and took a breath. “Mel and I are gonna stay here. With Kino.”

Vi blinked. She’d been ready for just about anything, but not that. Her gaze flicked across the bay to where Mel stood talking with Caitlyn. One look at her girlfriend’s expression told her she was hearing the same news.

“You’re serious?” Vi asked quietly.

Jayce nodded. “Kino said something to us earlier, and it stuck with me. Said he didn’t think he’d ever make up for everything he stood by and let happen… but what he’s doing here,” he glanced around at the tired but happy faces of the relief workers, “he said it feels like a good start.” His eyes came back to hers. “I’ve gotta do this, Vi.”

Vi glanced once more toward Caitlyn, now holding Mel in a firm embrace. She let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah… I guess you do.”

“Vi, you know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You, Powder, and Ekko… you let me be part of the first thing that’s felt like family since I was a kid, and—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Vi stepped in and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Jayce froze for a second, then held on just as tightly. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The embrace said everything, years of friendship, of blood, sweat, and tears, of standing shoulder-to-shoulder through more fights than they could count. It was the kind of hug that told you this wasn’t goodbye forever, even if it sure as hell felt like it in the moment.

“Vik’s gonna miss you,” Vi muttered as they finally parted, her voice undeniably rough now. 

Jayce chuckled. “Yeah, he’s gonna have to find someone else to blame for everything. Poor guy.” 

The two lingered for a moment, before Vi gave his shoulder one last squeeze. “Make sure you say goodbye to everyone, alright?” 

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” She turned and let herself rejoin the party, giving Jayce one last look before Powder roped her into a round of shots. She’d miss her engineer, her friend, her brother. But it was undeniable. He’d found his purpose. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

It didn’t feel real to Caitlyn. Mel was staying here, with her brother and with Jayce. She was happy for her, of course, but god… it had always been her and Mel. They’d grown up together, joined this crew together, survived together. And now… they had to say goodbye?

“You okay?” Vi asked softly, resting her head on Caitlyn’s shoulder.

She nodded, though her voice cracked. “Just… can’t believe they’re staying here, you know?”

Vi’s arm came around her waist. “Yeah, I get it. You spend enough of your life with someone, it feels impossible to imagine it without them.”

Caitlyn nodded again, swiping away a tear. “I am happy for her, though. For both of them.”

“I don’t get it,” an uninvited voice cut in.

They turned to see Sarah, leaning lazily against a bulkhead, eyes on Mel and Jayce as they spoke with Kino.

“Shocking,” Vi muttered.

Sarah tilted her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her tone dripping with mock offense.

“It means I’m not surprised that the most selfish, heartless person I’ve ever met can’t understand wanting to do something good just because it’s good.”

“Oh, Violet,” Sarah sighed. “Please, come down from your high horse. I can’t hear you all the way up there.”

“No high horse,” Vi said flatly. “You just can’t imagine doing anything without a payday.”

Sarah’s smirk deepened. “And I suppose you did this for free?”

“That’s not—”

“That’s your problem,” Sarah interrupted. “You tell yourself you’re better than me because I'm the one who's willing to admit I work for credits, but come on, Violet. At the end of the day, we’re both mercs.”

“She’s nothing like you,” Caitlyn cut in, her voice sharp enough to draw Sarah’s full attention.

“Isn’t she?” Sarah asked, smiling like she already knew the answer.

“No.” Caitlyn stepped forward, planting herself between the two. “She may not be perfect, she has her flaws like anyone, but I believe she can be better. And I believe she wants to be better. She wants to make the galaxy better. You?” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’re hopeless.”

For a moment, Sarah just stared at her, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Caitlyn half-expected a swing, or at least a biting retort. Instead, Sarah’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Hopeless…” she echoed thoughtfully, as if tasting the word on her tongue. “That’s a new one. Not bad, Kiramman.” And with that, she turned, striding back to her pirates without another glance.

Vi watched Sarah disappear into the crowd, then looked up at Caitlyn, equal parts impressed and amused. “Damn,” she said with a grin. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Caitlyn’s smirk was subtle, but smug. “Bold of you to assume you were ever on my good side.”

Vi snorted and gave her a playful shove, both of them breaking into quiet laughter.

“Still…” Vi’s voice softened as she leaned into her again, “gotta say, watching you tear into her like that? Pretty hot.”

Caitlyn’s cheeks went crimson instantly. “Violet!” she scolded, but there was nothing behind it. She was flustered, sure, embarrassed even, but for the first time since Mel had said she was leaving the crew, Caitlyn was smiling.

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

No one was in a hurry to climb back aboard The Gauntlet. No one was ready to say goodbye. They lingered on the dock, trading last-minute quips and scraps of conversation as if they could stall the inevitable, pretending that if they waited long enough, someone would call it all off and they’d leave together. If only.

“Vi’s gonna kill me for not keeping the engine bay as clean as you,” Ekko muttered. “You spoiled her.”

Jayce smirked. “I’m gonna kill you if you don’t keep my engine bay clean.”

Powder crossed her arms, glancing between them. “Great. Between losing the one who scored us the best jobs and the idiot who came up with the worst ones, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel right now.”

Jayce rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him with a smile.

“We’ll miss you too, Powder,” Mel said warmly.

Suddenly, Isha slipped through the cluster of bodies without a word, going straight for Jayce. He dropped to a knee, scooping her into his arms.

“Hey, kid…” His voice softened. “You gotta keep these idiots safe for me, alright?”

She nodded against his shoulder, clinging tight.

Jayce smiled faintly. “Good.”

“You’re both sure about this?” Vi asked, though the answer was already written on their faces. She searched them anyway, looking for even the smallest flicker of hesitation. Mel and Jayce exchanged a quiet glance, a shared smile, then looked back at her.

“Yeah,” Mel said softly. “We are.”

“This is where we belong,” Jayce added with a steady nod. “This is what we’re meant to do.”

Caitlyn stepped forward before Vi could say anything else, wrapping Mel in a final hug. She buried her face against her friend’s shoulder for a moment, forcing her voice to stay even. “You have my comm ID,” she whispered. “You’d better use it.”

Mel’s lips curved into a smirk she didn’t quite feel. “Try and stop me.”

Vi’s gaze shifted between them one last time. “We’re here if you ever need us,” she said firmly. “Both of you.”

Jayce nodded with equal conviction. “Same here. You ever need help, all you’ve gotta do is call.”

There was nothing left to say, try as they might to keep prolonging this. No one said the word "goodbye", no one dared. Vi was the last one to break away, giving one final handshake to Jayce before turning and joining her crew aboard The Gauntlet.

The Gauntlet’s docking port hissed shut behind them, closing off what was, and leaving them only with what would be. From a viewport, Vi watched The Liberator grow smaller as The Gauntlet drifted further away. Caitlyn stood beside her, arms folded tight, eyes locked on the shrinking ship.

“You know, we’ll see them again, right?”  Vi murmured, though she wasn’t sure if she was saying it for Caitlyn or for herself.

Caitlyn turned to her, offering a small smile that was desperately holding back so much heartbreak. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.” Her hand found Vi’s, holding it until The Liberator, and all its crew aboard, were nothing more than a fading speck behind them.

Chapter Text

Shurima.

The last time the crew had been here, it had been for R&R, sand in their hair, sunburn on their shoulders, and laughter rolling down the shoreline until dusk. They’d been together then, whole. Now it was just Vi and Caitlyn in a dimly lit bar, pulled back by a half-cryptic, half-desperate call from one Shoola. She hadn’t given much over comms. Too little for Vi’s liking. But she’d dangled the one thing guaranteed to get the crew of The Gauntlet moving: credits. Enough to make the job worth the risk.

Shit. Maybe Sarah wasn’t entirely wrong about her after all.

“You’re fidgeting,” Caitlyn murmured. Her voice was soft, but her hand came down firmly over Vi’s restless fingers drumming the counter.

“Yeah, well…” Vi muttered. Almost without thinking, she laced their hands together. “Vague, ominous calls for help tend to have that effect on me.”

Her gaze kept sweeping the bar… the exits, the shadows, the slow-turning ceiling fans that only pushed the desert heat around instead of doing anything to cool it.

“You don’t trust her,” Caitlyn said. Not a question, but a statement of fact.

Vi shook her head. “I don’t trust anyone who gives me that little info on a job.”

Caitlyn’s mouth curved slightly. “Mel didn’t exactly give you the full story about me. And look how that turned out.”

Vi huffed, rolling her eyes, though the grin slipped through anyway. “Saying I might get a second girlfriend?”

Caitlyn’s elbow nudged her hard. “I’m saying maybe keep an open mind.”

Vi leaned in, lowering her voice. “So… second girlfriend…”

“Violet.” The warning came out low, but the warmth in Caitlyn’s eyes betrayed her.

A throat cleared beside them. Both women straightened. Shoola leaned against the bar, golden eyes sharp, jewelry and plating catching what little light the room offered. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” she asked.

“Not at all, Councilor—” Caitlyn began, but Shoola’s laugh cut her short.

“Please. Just Shoola. Haven’t been a councilor in years… your mother and her guard dog Medarda saw to that.”

Once, those words might have stung Caitlyn. But not anymore. She didn’t flinch. “I assure you, my mother and I are not of the same mind.”

Shoola studied her for a moment, then nodded. “If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t have called. But you…” her gaze slid to Vi, weighing her, “the entire crew. You’ve made quite a name for yourselves among the people the US would rather throw into their correctional facilities.”

“They do keep finding creative ways to land in our crosshairs,” Vi muttered, sipping her drink before setting it back down.

Shoola’s expression hardened. “I’m afraid this job will be no different.”

Vi leaned forward, shoulders squaring. “That right?”

Shoola didn’t blink. “I only hope your crew hasn’t grown tired of killing Enforcers, Captain Lanes.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“How much do you know about hex crystals?” Shoola’s voice carried through The Gauntlet’s war room. She stood at the holotable, her golden eyes shifting from face to face as the blue glow of a projected crystal spun slowly in the air.

“The US uses ’em for pretty much everything,” Powder piped up, leaning forward. “Weapons, tech… I’ve even heard of something called a hex-strap that—”

“Powder.” Vi was quick to cut her off.

“Do you know how they’re sourced?” Shoola continued. 

Silence, the kind of silence where everyone already sensed the answer was going to be ugly.

Shoola gave a grim nod, then swiped across the screen. The projection shifted, zooming out into a twisting map of tunnels.

“This,” Shoola said, voice hard, “is Atlas. One of the Unified Systems’ best-kept secrets. And one of its ugliest.”

Powder squinted at the projection, unimpressed. “Their best-kept secret’s a mine?”

“Not just a mine,” Shoola corrected. Her jaw tightened. “A labor camp. Men. Women. Children. Forced down into those tunnels, day after day, scraping hex crystals out of the rock until their bodies give out. You get sick? Hurt? Too tired to keep up?” She looked around the room. “No one ever hears from you again.”

Ekko’s brows drew together as he leaned over the map. “How the hell has no one talked about this? I mean, yeah the galaxy’s fucked up, but people wouldn’t let something like this slide.”

Shoola turned her gaze on him. “What do you think happens to anyone who tries to speak up?” Her eyes gestured back to the map. "Down there, hope is a memory. Any spark of protest, any flicker of light, it’s snuffed out faster than you can blink. These people need someone from the outside. Not just to talk, but to act. They need a symbol.”

“And you think that’s us?” Vi asked flatly.

Shoola tilted her head. “I think it has to be. Everyone knows better than to stand against the US. But you…” her eyes swept across the crew, pausing on each of them in turn, “…you seem to keep doing it.”

Powder laughed to herself. “Not sure that makes us a symbol. More like a bunch of idiots with a death wish.”

“Be that as it may,” Shoola said without blinking, “you’re the closest thing these people have to a chance.”

The room was quiet. Caitlyn’s eyes didn’t leave the projection of this camp… Atlas, all those twisting tunnels, the red dots marking Enforcer checkpoints, the blue icons marking where lives were being swallowed in the dark. Then she turned, gaze locking on Vi.

“Then we’d better give them something to hold onto,” she said softly, but firmly.

Vi opened her mouth, ready to argue. Ready to say this wasn’t their fight, wasn’t their responsibility. But the words caught in her throat. She looked at Caitlyn,  the doctor, the chief science officer, her anchor, her love, and felt something stir in her chest. Something dangerous. Something new.

Something that felt dangerously close to purpose.

“Yeah,” Vi said at last, reaching for Caitlyn’s hand. “I guess we’d better.”

Across the table, Powder leaned back in her chair, arms folded. “Cool. Touching. But do we actually have a plan to go with all these good vibes, or are we just storming the gates?”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“I would’ve preferred storming the gates,” Powder muttered, tugging at the ill-fitting uniform that hung off her shoulders. Her voice was low, but the contempt for their situation was deafening. Vi didn’t answer. Not right away. Her eyes drifted over the crowded transport instead. Shoola had told them it was bad. Had said there were weak, starving men, women, and children. But hearing about it and seeing it were two very different things. Across from her, a little boy sat wedged against the wall. Eight, maybe younger. Too thin, knees drawn close. He didn’t look scared. He didn’t look much of anything at all, just hollow, resigned to another day in a life already measured out in shifts.

Something in Vi’s chest cracked. She’d seen a lot of ugly, but this…

“Violet?”

The voice pulled her back. Warm. Familiar. Grounding. Caitlyn. Vi glanced sideways. Cait sat in the same scratchy uniform, dirt smeared across her cheekbones. The grime didn’t hide the concern in her eyes.

“You alright?” she asked softly.

Vi shook her head. “I thought I knew how fucked up this galaxy was,” she murmured. “Thought I knew it when I was a kid watching The Glassing. Thought I knew it in Tryndamere. Or when we saw what the Noxians were doing to the Ixtali…” She exhaled, shaky. “But somehow I keep finding new ways to be surprised.”

Caitlyn reached across the gap and caught Vi’s hand where it rested on her lap. She squeezed, an anchor in the rattle of the transport.

“That’s why we’re here, Violet,” she said.

Vi nodded, eyes falling shut for a moment. Maybe that was it. Maybe the credits weren’t why she’d come. Maybe she was better than that. Better than what Sarah had said she was. She leaned her head back against the cold metal wall, feeling it hum with the transport’s engines. She would be better. She had to be.

Vi opened her eyes again to find Isha sitting across from her. The girl was just as dirt and grime-smeared as the rest of them, the disguise swallowing her frame in folds of rough fabric.

“You alright, kid?” Vi asked quietly.

Isha looked up, jaw set, determination carved into her young face. She nodded once. Vi couldn’t help a faint smile. Powder and Ekko had tried their damndest to make the girl stay back, but she’d refused with fire in her eyes, daring anyone to drag her off the mission. In the end, Viktor’s cool, clinical voice had sealed it.

“She may have another… adrenaline rush. It could prove useful.” 

Adrenaline rush. That was what they were calling it for now. Better than “super strength,” which still sounded like something out of a child’s action serial. And since the escape from Tryndamere Prison, it hadn’t happened again.

The transport groaned to a halt. Metal doors screeched open, flooding the dim interior with blinding desert light. Shouts in clipped tones, rifles tapping against the transport, and the crew were swept into the tide of miners being funneled toward the checkpoint.

“Remember,” Vi muttered under her breath, her eyes forward. “We’re looking for a guard named Loris. He’s got everything we need.”

“Big, hairy motherfucker with a bandana,” Powder confirmed, tugging at her sleeve.

“Hard to miss,” Ekko said, scanning the crowd.

And sure enough, Caitlyn’s nudge came a moment later. Vi followed her gaze to a towering figure at the checkpoint, broad shoulders, beard unkempt, hair wild, and a navy blue bandana tied across his brow. Vi cut through the flow of bodies, leading the crew until she was face-to-face with the man.

“Name?” he asked gruffly.

“Shoola,” Vi answered evenly.

Recognition flashed in his eyes. He glanced left, then right, ensuring no Enforcer eyes lingered too long. Then he bent and lifted what looked like a worker’s gear bag, indistinguishable from the dozens passing through.

“Demo charges,” he whispered, slipping it forward. “More than enough to bring this pit down. Your communicators. Sidearms. And…” he smirked faintly, “…a pair of gloves.”

Vi smirked faintly as she slid her displacement gloves back onto her hands, flexing her fingers like a hawk exercising its talons. She slipped the communicator into her ear.

“Vik, you hearing me?”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor’s voice crackled softly. “I am transferring to the mobile housing unit. I’ll be above your position shortly.”

Vi gave a tight nod and glanced over her crew as they discreetly tucked gear into hidden pockets, and rolled her shoulders.

“Alright,” she said, voice low but firm. “Let’s get to work.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The shaft stretched onward before them. It was an abyss of jagged metal and bone-chilling cold. The only light came from the ghostly shimmer of raw hex crystals, their glow crawling along the walls like veins of frozen lightning, and the thin, bobbing beams from the workers’ headlamps.

This place eats people alive, Vi thought grimly as the crew melted into the flow of bodies trudging deeper into the tunnels.

Viktor’s voice buzzed steady and unshaken in their ears. “Thermal imaging shows twenty guards posted throughout the mine.”

“Light work,” Powder crackled back. Her voice was flippant, but Vi knew that was her way of keeping the edge off.

“Especially if the EMP works all the way down here,” Ekko muttered, his eyes scanning the rusted supports and dangling wires overhead.

“It is gonna work, right, Vik?” Vi asked, her tone cautious.

The AI didn’t miss a beat. “Does a closed thermodynamic system asymptotically approach maximal entropy under the second law?”

Vi blinked. She glanced at Caitlyn, who gave the faintest nod, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That would be a yes.”

“Okay. Great. So that’s a yes?” Vi asked.

“Affirmative, Captain,” Viktor replied evenly.

Powder groaned. “We’ve gotta fix his humor algorithm. That wasn’t even funny, just… smug.”

Vi ran a hand through her hair. “Alright, guys, focus. Once Vik sets off that EMP, we lose comms. Run it one more time. Powder, charges?”

“Yup. Whole place’s gonna come down.” Powder answered confidently. 

“Vik?”

“Once the EMP emits, you will have ten minutes before communications are reestablished. I will return to The Gauntlet and secure an improvised extraction point at the mine entrance.” Viktor’s voice was calm, methodical. 

Vi nodded. “As soon as it goes dark: don’t stop, don’t think. Put Enforcers on the ground, arm as many workers as we can, and move everyone to the exit. Get them on the ship. Clear?”

“Clear,” Powder and Ekko answered in quick tandem..

“Clear.” Caitlyn murmured steadily as she squeezed Vi’s arm. 

Vi nodded. “Alright, Vik. Do it.”

Lights stuttered. Headlamps faded to pinpricks and then nothing. Comms dissolved into a thin, angry hiss. Confusion rippled through the mine like a current. Vi didn’t hesitate. She closed on the nearest guard, her arms wrapping around his neck, she shifted her weight until his neck gave with a wet, sickening crack. He slumped. Caitlyn moved with her, precise and efficient, and another man folded. The first gasps and startled curses rolled through the tunnel.

“What the hell?”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh god, they’re gonna get us killed…”

“We’re your best shot at getting out!” Vi’s voice carried against the hum of terrified murmurs. “We’ve got guns. We’ve got a way out. All you’ve gotta do is trust us.”

A ripple of doubt and traded glances answered her. That was the thing Shoola had warned them about, these people had been taught to mistrust the idea of hope. 

She took a breath, then stepped forward. “The Unified Systems took almost everything from me,” Vi said, her voice firm. “They took my parents, my home, they took a whole fucking planet. And when that wasn’t enough, they tried to take the only family I had left and let them rot in an icebox of a prison.” The faint blue of the crystals painted her face in trembling light as she sought out as many eyes as she could find in the crowd. “But there was one thing they could never take from me…”

Footsteps hammered closer, boots on rock. The Enforcer’s voice cut in, rough and surprised. “Hey, what the hell—”

He didn’t finish. A blue bolt cracked across the dark and slammed into his chest, dropping him lifelessly to the ground. The smell of ozone rolled over the crowd, and smoke curled from the pistol in Vi’s hand as she turned away from the fallen man and met the workers’ faces again.

“They never took away my fight,” she said, the words steady now, full of a fierce, dangerous calm. “I fight every goddamn day. I fight for my crew, for my family. I fight to survive. It’s hard, holy fuck it’s hard. I’m tired, I’m bruised, I’m always running… but I’m free. I’m alive.” She shoved the still-warm pistol into the nearest worker’s chest like an offering and a command all at once. “So ask yourselves: do you want to live, or do you want to be alive?”

The man’s hands trembled around the grip. He stared at her for what felt like an eternity, then nodded once, tentative, scared. Around him, others shifted. A woman reached for her child and then tucked him close to her as she stepped forward. A teenager stepped forward and took a pistol that had been held out by Caitlyn. Relief like a warm tide hit Vi hard as she watched the newfound hope ripple. Another pair of hands reached out. Then another. One by one, the beaten, starved people around them stepped forward and took the arms offered to them, fingers clumsy but determined, making a decision that might save them.

Footsteps echoed behind them, lighter, faster. Not Enforcers, there were too many of them and not heavy enough. Vi turned as Powder, Ekko, and Isha closed the distance. Behind them, a ragged line of workers followed, newly armed and looking just a little less broken.

“We good to get the fuck outta here?” Powder asked with urgency, “Starting to think I developed claustrophobia.”

Vi gave a quick nod. The exit was a sliver of light far ahead, the shaft hummed with the sound of people trying not to panic. “Alright, everybody move to the exit!” she ordered, voice loud and precise. “Kids, keep to the middle of the pack. Everybody with a gun, get to the front. If anyone tries to stop you, don’t hesitate to pull the trigger. They won’t. Move!”

Feet shuffled, voices clamored. Suddenly, the Atlas labor camp was alive with noise that sounded like an extremely dangerous weapon. 

Hope. 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The Enforcers outside of the mineshaft patrolling the rest of Atlas were blissfully unaware of the uprising taking place just a hundred feet below. It was a quiet, sunny Shuriman day. As far as anyone topside could tell, apart from what was written off as a comms malfunction, absolutely nothing was amiss. 

One particular Virtual Intelligence Kernel for Threat Observation and Response was more than equipped to disrupt that quiet. 

The sky split.

The Gauntlet came down like a hammer. It appeared over the ridge with a deafening roar. Enforcers turned their heads, but the ship was already firing, focused beams cut across armored plates, tracers carved through the air. Burnt metal smoked where the first hits landed. Guards dove, those who didn’t crumpled to the ground. Vehicles burst into flames. Calls for help went nowhere, as the EMP continued to isolate the labor camp. 

The roars from the surface told Vi everything she needed to know. Viktor was doing his thing, and the Enforcers were getting steamrolled. The Gauntlet settled near the mine entrance, emitting a wave that blasted dust and debris past everyone. The ramp dropped, urging everyone to board. 

“Move!” Vi barked over the screaming engines. Workers shuffled, stumbled, climbed up the ramp and into the cargo bay until Powder was the only one left on the lip of the tunnel.

“Alright, come on, Pow, let’s go,” Vi called, hand already reaching for her sister’s sleeve.

Powder held her hand up with a flourish, her grin wild and bright. She fished the detonator from a pocket, pressed her thumb down on the button, and watched with pure delight as the ground rumbled below. The tunnel began to heave and fall, stone and metal collapsing inward in a slow, satisfying death.

Vi rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to stare at your own explosion.”

“Fuck that, that was awesome,” Powder laughed, eyes still glued on the collapse.

“Yeah, yeah.” Vi jerked her chin toward the ramp. “Come on. If that detonator did its job, that means comms are probably back up.”

Powder breezed past with a whoop and vaulted up the ramp, still laughing. Vi followed, and gave a last glance over her shoulder at the mine now sealed behind them. She then looked back ahead to her cargo bay, now full of terrified men, women, and children who couldn’t quite believe how quickly their lives had just changed. Caitlyn moved quickly, tending to those injured in the escape. Vi watched as she moved, gentle, kind, unhurried, and for the briefest moment, she couldn’t help but smile. There she was, the woman who had taken care of her all the way back on Zaun, all those months ago, the woman she’d fallen hopelessly in love with, doing what she did best, taking care of everyone around her. 

A gentle tug on her sleeve pulled her away from her thoughts. She looked down at Isha, staring up at her intently.

“What’s up, kid?” Vi asked softly, the smile still lingering on her face.

Isha led her to the cockpit, where a projection of Shoola waited. 

“Captain, it sounds like the Enforcers stationed at Atlas are having an exceptionally bad day.” 

Vi smirked. “Shame. Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

“Of course not,” Shoola nodded knowingly. “I’m near the third moon, sending you my coordinates now."

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi watched as fear slowly softened into relief with every step further the Shurimans took onto Shoola’s ship, escorted by her crew. Panicked whispers turned into cautiously optimistic laughter. Families were finding each other again, holding each other close, and starting to believe that maybe it really was over. She wasn’t naive enough to believe the danger had ended. The Unified Systems wouldn’t forget Atlas, not after this. Word of the escape would spread, and with it would come a galaxy-wide manhunt for anyone who’d made it out. Her own bounty was up to thirty thousand credits, last she’d checked. It was a number that kept trust scarce and made every friendly face a potential risk. But right here, right now, as she watched hope reignite in every face she saw, it was worth it. 

“They’ll be safe, Captain.” Shoola stood next to her, watching the Shurimans just as intently as Vi had been. “New names, new homes, new lives, waiting for all of them, all over the galaxy.”

Vi glanced over at the woman. “Can’t be easy.”

Shoola shook her head. “It’s not.”

“Or safe.”

“It’s not.”

Vi tilted her head, curious. “And you just… do this? All the time?”

Shoola smiled. “I do.”

“You, uh…” Vi scratched the back of her neck. “You mind if I ask why?” 

Shoola laughed softly. “Captain, you don’t need me to answer that.”

Vi folded her arms. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Shoola broke her stare away from the Shurimans for a moment to look Vi in the eyes, “that you already know exactly why I do what I’m doing.”

Vi didn’t say anything, she just watched as her crew and Shoola’s worked to help these people settle in. Caitlyn assisting the medical team, Ekko helping distribute food, and Powder and Isha running through every joke they had to make the kids laugh. 

“But,” Shoola continued, her eyes fixed once again on her passengers, “I think you want to believe there’s something else. A payoff, maybe. A tangible reward. Not because you want one, but because you need to believe that’s what drives you.” 

Vi swallowed hard as she watched the saddest smile form on Shoola’s face. “I knew your father,” she shrugged. “Well, knew of him. Vander was…” She shook her head fondly. “He was ultimately why I was removed from the Galactic Council.”

“How’s that?” Vi asked. 

“When he spoke to us, to the council… near…” Shoola hesitated, “near the end… he’d made a truly remarkable impression on so many of us. Really got some of us considering moving forward with peace talks. That’s…” she sighed. “That’s why it never made sense to me when Cassandra sent that peace envoy to Targon… and it was shot down.”

The two stood in silence for a moment, Shoola’s words hit Vi harder than she’d expected. It had been so long since she got to speak with someone about Vander, about the kind of man he was. 

“He… never let me and Powder hear much of what he said…” Vi muttered, “about the war… he tried to keep us away from it, let us be kids, as much as we could be anyway.”

“Hmm.” Shoola nodded thoughtfully. “Well, the point is, Captain, you’re like him in so many ways, even if you don’t see it yet. You’re strong, determined, and whether you realize it or not, you and your ship have become a symbol.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “A symbol?”

Shoola nodded, smiling. “Among the Allied Systems, Vander Warwick was… terrifying, unpredictable, the greatest threat the galaxy faced,” her features softened, “but to those in the Federation who looked to him for leadership, for guidance… he was brave, he was loyal, he was dead set on doing what was right. To the Federation, he was more than a leader, he was a promise… he was—”

“A symbol,” Vi finished. Shoola nodded. 

“Exactly.” Her eyes locked with Vi’s again. “And that, Captain, is why you don’t need me to tell you why I’m doing this.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

The shower back on the ship had been everything Vi hadn’t known she’d needed. She’d watched thankfully as the hot water washed away the final remnants of Atlas, the dirt and grime now as broken down as the mine itself. And Caitlyn’s company had been as welcome as ever, her long, slender fingers lathering shampoo into Vi’s hair, and then greedily exploring the rest of her after. Had it not been for Powder banging at the door about saving enough hot water for everyone else, the two could have stayed lost in the steam for another hour. 

“Don't you wish you'd gotten that new water heater installed now?" Caitlyn teased as the two finished getting dressed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Vi sighed, “Caitlyn Kiramman is right again. What else is new?”

Caitlyn smiled, her eyes crinkling the way Vi loved, and kissed her cheek. “Well, as long as you know.”

Vi rolled her eyes, pretending with minimal effort to be annoyed, but the smirk on her face fully betrayed her as the two emerged into the hallway, met with a dramatic “finally” from Powder, who brushed past them. 

“Captain,” Viktor’s voice rang out through the ship’s intercom system, “ I have received an audio file from Shoola with a request that it be transferred to your personal datapad.”

Vi gave Caitlyn a confused look, only to be met with one back, and shrugged. “Alright, Vik. Send it through.” 

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

Vi sat at the desk in her quarters, datapad in hand, and Caitlyn leaning against her desk. She read the message attached for a third time.

I’ve held onto this for over ten years. I wasn’t sure why, until you told me you’d never heard your father speak about the war. Remember who he was, Captain. He lives on in you. 

Caitlyn gently squeezed Vi’s shoulder. “You ready?” She asked. 

Vi exhaled sharply, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” And then she tapped the screen. 

“Councillors,” the voice’s familiar rumble brought tears to her eyes immediately, and a hand to her mouth. She tapped the screen again immediately, pausing the recording. 

“Violet?” Caitlyn’s voice was full of concern. 

“I…” she shook her head. “I haven’t heard his voice in so long… I think… I forgot how it sounded until…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. A pain that had subsided into a dull throbbing in the back of her mind had fully surfaced again. Overwhelmed with a grief she thought she’d long come to terms with, she let the tears finally fall again for the first time in years. Caitlyn didn’t hesitate. She slid off the desk, crouched, and cupped Vi’s face with both hands. Their foreheads met, then Vi let herself collapse completely. The chair scraped the floor as she slid down until she was in Caitlyn’s arms, the datapad sitting forgotten on the desk. 

Images came to Vi’s mind in painful flashes, a fractured slideshow of the man who had raised her and her sister. Vander laughing over the horrendously burnt breakfast she and Powder had tried to make him. The pride on his face the day she’d finally beaten him in Dreadnaught. The look of pure adoration in his eyes as he brushed his hand through Powder’s hair as she slowly drifted off to sleep. He’d been everything they’d needed, and then he’d been everything they’d needed to learn to live without. And they had. God, they had. They both knew how proud he’d say he was of them, now more than ever. 

Finally, the sobs subsided into hiccups and shaky breaths, the tears dried, and the trembling in her body steadied. She pulled back, just slightly, giving herself enough room to swipe the remaining tears from her eyes, and despite everything, she laughed. 

“Dramatic, huh?” she sniffled. 

Caitlyn laughed, then leaned forward, kissing the captain’s forehead. “I’d expect nothing less.” 

Vi smiled and brought herself to her feet, earning a curious look from Caitlyn. 

“I’m gonna get Powder. She needs to hear this as much as I do.”

╭━━━◇◆◇━━━╮

“Councillors, I come to you today, not as a revolutionary, but as a leader, as a father, as a man who has already seen so much loss. I am here because the situation demands it. 

For a decade, we’ve exchanged blood for blood. We’ve all fought and died while resolutions were drafted, redrafted, and dismissed. You’ve sent your sons and daughters into the maw of a war machine that speaks of order, while in fact dismantling the very things that make us human. We’ve learned the price of patience. It’s the slow, agonizing death of a generation, and the starvation of justice. 

I’m asking you, Councillors, to not wait any longer. I am asking for peace. Not because it’s easy, not because it will make up for the losses any of us have already endured, but because it’s the only way we don’t lose anything more. And make no mistake, this is a call for peace, not a declaration of surrender. My extended hand is not a white flag. Should you decide today that peace is not an option, the war will rage on. We have fought too hard, and lost too much for it to be for nothing. Your children will continue to die, same as ours, until one day… until one day there’s nothing left to fight for. 

And perhaps the deaths of your enemies mean little to you, but look in your own homes. Look at the empty seats where a family member once sat. Look at the tears, the pain, the suffering among your own people that you ultimately will have to answer for. My people, they don’t ask for these answers, because we know what we’re fighting for, what we’re dying for. Can you say the same?

I offer you this, Councillors. I offer you an opportunity for all of this to stop. For us to coexist, perhaps not in harmony, but in tolerance. An opportunity for all of us to finally heal. An opportunity for us to become a symbol for the future. I pray that you take it, before it’s too late. Thank you.”

The recording finally cut, and not a word was spoken in the common room. The five of them, Vi, Caitlyn, Powder, Ekko, and Isha all sat with what they’d just heard. A ghost from days gone that had been everything to the sisters. The two’s hands were firmly clasped together on the couch. Caitlyn leaned gently on Vi’s shoulder, Ekko traced small, grounding circles on Powder’s back, Isha sat on the floor, resting her head on Powder’s knees.

“A symbol for the future…” Vi said softly, finally breaking the silence. Now, those words carried a different meaning. Vander’s dream of peace hadn’t come to pass. A vile, cruel mockery of it had been forced on everyone instead. It hadn’t been peace, it had been submission. 

“This isn’t what he wanted…”  Powder finally spoke up, squeezing Vi’s hand. “He’d still be fighting…”

“Yeah,” Vi nodded. “Yeah, he would.”

It wasn’t an agreement spoken with words, but in the silence after that. The Gauntlet and her crew weren’t mercenaries, they weren’t survivors, not anymore. They were a spark that had already lit several fires. They were stories told by countless lives they’d touched. They were a symbol.

And they were determined to make that mean something.