As expected, things took a bad turn a mere minute after being discovered. Two jumps later, upon arrriving at Station 44 Detrol was warmly welcomed by a barrage of molten bullets. Through the active aura of the ring portal, he could see the deck officers huddled at the far end of the bridge firing wildly. They're overeager - if they were thinking clearly they'd wait for me to step out of the aura.
Luckily for him, the aura was designed to act as a barrier for arriving travelers to prevent departing travelers from stepping in and colliding in the Warp during a transportation. The bullets hit the barrier and slid downward like jelly, falling to the floor below the ring. It was a reprieve, though a very brief one. He only had seconds before the barrier would dissipate to end the transportation. A blink charge ejected into his palm from a small compartment in his wrist and he tossed it in the direction of his assailants. An intense flash overlit the enire chamber and then the bullet pattern of the ongoing attack scattered. That should mess with their accuracy for a bit.
Alighting to cross the platform, he sprinted down to the next ring and the barrage followed him. With each step he assessed the trajectory and speed of each bullet and matched it against a projection of his own. His non-organic heart sank as he identified two of them with his name on it, which would hit him just before the middle of the platform - but better that than the countless that would meet their mark if he remained where he was. He took another stride and readied himself for impact.
And yet none came, for a savior in the form of Captain materialized beside him. She looped her arm around his waist and pulled him into her, shielding his frame with her body.
“I got you, buddy,” she muttered as she activated a translucent shield that fanned out from the gauntlet on her forearm and jammed the bottom tip into the concrete platform. The floor cracked and chunks of cement debris scattered from the impact, and the two destined bullets met the shield with a sizzle.
“You okay?” she yelled to be heard over the din of gunfire.
“No! My ass plate fell off,” he yelled back, wriggling himself out of her iron grasp and turning to face her.
With her face-covering he could not see her eyes, but he knew they'd be glittering with mirth. Sure enough - despite the chaos around them - she threw her head back and howled with laughter.
He folded his arms. “Really, Captain, what an inappropriate time,” he chided.
“Aw come on,” she begged, “you don’t think that’s funny at all? After our conversation earlier?”
“We wouldn't be in this position if you had just-”
Silhouettes of bullets buffeted the fan shield, each hit causing it to shiver and wretch against Captain's forearm as she strained to hold it steady. The officers were all targeting the shield now.
Her head snapped up, the light of a plan dawning in her voice. “Detrol! Backpack!”
He leaned away slightly, folding his arms. “No! It’s humiliating!”
“What? Who cares?" she demanded. "You planning on grabbing drinks with them later?”
“Yeah we’re gonna do a play-by-play of this horrible gig at the pub!” A stray bullet whizzed over their heads.
“You giant soup can!" she yelled. "Jump on!”
“Oh here we go with the derogatory droid names. I wanted to take the Sh'k job!”
"This job is more important," she grunted, opening a small panel on the guantlet which displayed a readout for the shield. “I promise we'll do that one next.”
“Says you!”
The fan shield shivered more violently and chirped in alarm. She inhaled deeply then said, “Detrol, this shield can take seven more hits and then things are going to get very difficult for everyone. Do you really want to waste them here, while having this argument?”
“Fiddles and farts - fine!”
"Good symbiot!" In one quick movement, she pivoted and turned her back to him. He climbed on, looping his arms around her shoulders and legs around her waist. “You got the shield?”
He released her shoulders and reached out to secure the shield. “I do now.”
“Atta boy,” she said as the shield released her forearm and she slid it out of the gauntlet as another hit shook the shield. “Five left. I’m gonna stand, hold it but shut it off the second we’re airborne.”
He thread his own arm through the gauntlet and secured it. “You sure? It would be safer to have it out as soon as we land on the next platform. All stations will be expecting us now.”
“We’re not using the platforms anymore, I’m going to just ring jump directly and use the auras.”
Detrol groaned. “It’s too early for that, we’re still far from the target! If you don’t know where you’re going the risk is greater than if we used the bridge platform!”
She reached her hand back and rubbed his head. “It’s me, Detrol. Have a little faith. Four hits left.”
“Why do I bother,” he muttered as he lifted the fan shield from the platform.
She sprinted towards the nearest ring and he held the shield steady, rotating it to protect their exposed side. Two hits almost t-boned them from their path, but they both held firm to the plan: the shield did not fall and her trajectory stayed true. Two more left.
Finally they came to the edge of the platform and she sprung out toward the ring. As soon as her shoes left the pavement and they were safe in the beam of the transfer, he quickly slid the shield fan blades shut until it was no more than a rod attached to his gaunlet.
The next minutes were a montage of flashing glimpses of various stations and Warp channels as they jumped directly from ring portal to ring portal. Were he an organic, he certainly would have had a seizure. Then the glimpses began shifting in orientation and his gyroscopic sensors alerted him to position anomalies.
“Are we... upside down?” he asked as they were midair en route to a ring two portals over.
“They must have figured out I’m an organic,” she answered as they fell head first through the ring. “They shut off the orientation correction, a tactic to disorient me and slow us down.”
“Bully,” he muttered dismally. “Is it working?”
“Maybe,” she chuckled, “I'm not complaining though, makes it more of a fair fight, don't you think?”
If symbiots could roll their eyes, he would have. “I’m glad our probable peril amuses you.”
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