Rescuer 12/13 (Bon Jovi, Def Leppard)
Title: Rescuer
Genre: Gen, Slash, Het
Bands: Bon Jovi, Def Leppard
Main Characters: David Bryan, Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, Tico Torres, Joe Elliott, Phil Collen, Rick Allen, Rick Savage, Vivian Campbell
Adult Content: No
Words: 2745
Chapter: 12/13
Summary: Smart-mouthed nine-breasted Venusian women, bouncy and naive Earth men, tough-talking asshole Charonite pilots, friendly space pirates, and a deep-seated revenge plot that goes back decades - just another work week for Jon Bon Jovi, Interplanetary Secretary of Transportation.
Teaser: When the tension broke, it was swift and unexpected. Like someone had cut a thread binding everything together, all Hell broke loose.
Where time had moved so quickly before, it now stood still. It felt like the moon and everyone on or around it was holding its collective breath, even the hum of 300 fighter ships just outside the atmosphere seemingly silent in anticipation.
When the tension broke, it was swift and unexpected. Like someone had cut a thread binding everything together, all Hell broke loose.
----------
As expected, a first wave came from Pluto. An attempt to silence the barbarians before Nq'wupyn and his troops were in any danger. But they underestimated their enemy, and there was no worse mistake they could possibly make.
Richie's communication unit let him speak to all the ships of the fleet, and his command to hold steady until he gave the word boomed loud and clear into every ship.
Somebody panicked.
The Plutonian ships were still out of range when a shot fired out from somewhere in Nof's unit, three sets of voices barking "hold your goddamned fire!" before Richie even got the chance.
The civilians were in trouble, their lack of experience allowing nerves and panic to override orders and common sense. More shots were fired, ships breaking rank left and right, and the Plutonian army kept coming.
A shot louder than the rest, followed by a small explosion and a shriek, went off behind Richie.
"When your Commanders say to hold your goddamn fire, it means hold your fucking goddamn fire!" Gyl screamed, over the communication lines. "Goddammit. Medics, go get that ship. And the next fucking ship that fires before the fucking order, I'll actually aim at. Bunch of fucking qntevs. Christ."
Richie's grin was so wide his cheeks hurt. And though he wouldn't have thought it possible, it widened when he realized the Plutonians had stopped advancing.
The kings of underestimation were going to stand back and let them take themselves out. Richie couldn't have planned this better.
"All ships, advance until you're in range, and open fire. Remember, our job is to disable, not destroy."
The poor bastards never saw it coming. The army collectively lurched forward, and before their hands could reach the weapons controls, half their fleet was down.
The Charonites were clumsy and unsure, but their motivation was survival and there's no winning against that sort of desperation. Explosions rocked around them, screams echoing across the communication lines punctuated by Gyl's screams for medics. But the army lurched forward, and the Plutonians fell hard.
In the end, it was more destruction than disabling, but Richie couldn't bring himself to care. Cleanup barges directed by Rick waited until the last Plutonian ship had fallen, then zoomed out to gather the flaming debris before it damaged any Charonite ships.
"Commander Allen, damage report."
"Seventeen ships hit from Nof's unit, thirteen from Wykel's. All but three safely retrieved. Five that can't be repaired. The rest are grounded for repairs. Six deaths, two injuries that will probably be fatal, ten grounded but will recover, and the other twelve will be given new ships and rejoining us as soon as possible."
"Good. Torres?"
"Uh. Ten from Rutnaw, twenty-two from Smith, including the one I took out for firing early. All recovered, fifteen beyond repair. Two deaths, six probably-fatal injuries, the rest waiting for new ships."
"Excellent. Doing okay?"
"Fabulous."
Richie nodded, although no one could see him. "I'm gonna call and update Command Central, so I'll be on radio silence. If you need me badly, just fire a blank my way."
"I always need you badly, Hot Stuff."
He grinned. "Well, you have to control yourself a little while longer."
----------
Joe blinked at the view screen in near disbelief.
"Well bloody Hell, they did it."
David giggled. "You sound like you didn't expect them to."
"I did. Just not quite so easily."
"I wanna know who the fucker was that took out one of their own ships," Tico growled.
"Calm down," David said, and kissed him. "No one did anything about it, so there must've been a good reason."
"Good reason my ass."
"Incoming call from FS625-18, com unit 75-68-158-177."
Tico punched a few buttons, and Richie's face popped up before them.
"That was bloody fabulous, Sambora."
He grinned. "Shaky start, but awesome finish."
"Who was the fucker shooting her own fucking - "
"Gyl."
Tico blinked. "What?"
"Someone fired before the order, people panicked and kept firing, no one was listening, so Gyl disabled a ship to make a point."
"Bet they listened after that," Joe said with a grin.
"Huh."
"See? Told you there was a good reason."
"Shut up, you," Tico grumbled, swatting his ass.
"Ew. Keep the foreplay where I can't see it. Anyway, we had a fair amount of casualties, but most are minor and we're replacing their ships, so we didn't lost that many."
Tico nodded. "Viv and Phil called about ten minutes ago, they spotted Nq'wupyn's fleet headed this way. They guessed it at about a thousand ships."
"That many?"
"That's what they said, yes. From when and where they called, I'd guess you have about half an hour."
"Fuck. Guess we've got our work cut out for us, then. Signal if you get any updates."
"Will do. Good luck."
"I think we're gonna need it," said Richie, with a wry smile. "Keep me posted."
----------
"Alright, troops. That was good, but it was also a small army and a lot of luck. Consider it a training exercise, 'cause the real battle is on its way to us. Focus, and follow orders. You've seen it happen - we will not hesitate to disable you if we think you're doing more harm than good. Clear?"
The resounding "yes, sir" echoing down the line from slightly less than 300 ships nearly deafened Richie.
He could get used to this.
"Are all ships in place?"
"Alpha is," answered Rick.
"So's Beta. More than Alpha," Gyl said, and Richie could hear all the bravado and none of the tremor. Good for her.
"As soon as we spot them, the strike team is gonna go up and over. The second we tell you we have Nq'wupyn and to cease fire, you cease. They're required to retreat once we have him, but they'll return fire if we give it. Once again, do more harm than good and you're fucked."
They appeared over the horizon of Pluto, an army of white warships that looked an awful lot like a flock of doves. Odd image, that.
"Ho-lee shit," Gyl muttered, probably forgetting she was connected to the entire fleet.
"Strike team, get cloaked, and follow me. Rick, Gyl...have fun."
They were just about over the first line of ships when Rick and Gyl's twin screams of "Fire at will!" roared in their ears, and it was on.
------------
Chaos was the only word for it. You can strategize and plan and work everything out to the last detail, but war can never be anything other than chaos.
A blinding, deafening thunder and lighting storm of deadly precision raged around them, enveloping each and every ship in a cloud of pure light and heat. It was nearly impossible for anyone to see, firing blindly into the wave of white ships, Gyl's near-constant yells for medics barely rising over the roar.
Rick flew like a madman, weaving and twisting and dodging a million shots that should have killed him. His aim was unnaturally accurate, but he didn't stop long enough to notice that every ship he fired at went down. Time was too important to stop for victory celebrations.
It soon became clear that, though Gyl's flight and aim were far clumsier, she had her own strategy - if one ship dies dramatically enough, it'll take down its neighbors. She aimed for fuel tanks and thrusters, causing explosions that came close to knocking out fifteen ships sometimes.
And Richie and his strike team rose above the cacophony, invisible angels of death zooming past a seemingly endless sea of white to seek out their prey. Screams echoed down the line, a few among them recognizing the voice of this one or that and nearly losing focus. But Richie egged them on tirelessly, coaxing them to new heights, new speeds, new levels of focus where everything but their mission melted away.
He had no stake in this, no emotional ties to any of it, but he was a man possessed and he demanded no less of his crew.
And the battle raged on.
----------
Every time a ship went down, Tico cringed. He was getting so bad David was considering dragging him off somewhere he couldn't watch.
"Bloody Hell, it's a mess down there."
"We can fucking see that, Joe, thank you."
David rubbed his shoulder. "She's fine."
"You don't know that."
"Tico, it'll be fine."
"I shouldn't've sent her down there."
"She would've gone anyway."
"Lqnar could've kept her at the capitol. She - "
"Tico. She would've hated you forever if you did that."
"Richie and Rick could handle it fine on their own."
"Probably. But this way is better, and they needed her for this. Now stop fretting, or I'm gonna hafta drag you off somewhere and distract you."
"Oh bloody Hell."
"What?"
"I see Viv and Phil."
----------
There it was, a fair distance back from the regular troops. Nq'wupyn's ship.
"Approach slowly. We need the element of surprise - he's bound to have good radar, so don't get ahead of yourselves. Stay behind me, wait for my word."
An explosion sounded behind him, so close he could feel his ship tremble, and Richie rushed to turn his camera on. More explosions, and Richie felt all the blood rush to his feet.
They'd been spotted, somehow. A cloaker must have malfunctioned, or someone overestimated the distance - it didn't matter. Something went wrong, and they were fucked.
Richie took a deep breath, steeled himself, and with all guns blazing, his ship lurched forward.
Directly into a blast from Nq'wupyn's ship.
----------
"Jesus shit, I think that was Richie," David stammered out, clutching Tico's hand.
"Shit. Joe, call Viv and Phil. Tell them to dip down by that big ship in the back, turn off the cloaker, and then come up here."
"Are you bloody insane?"
"Richie and that medic going after him are sitting ducks. We need to draw Nq'wupyn's attention. Just fucking do it."
Joe nodded and moved as quickly as they'd ever seen him.
"We're almost - "
"De-cloak and dip down towards the big ship. You don't have time to ask. Just dip, come back up, and we'll make ourselves visible. Do it now. Bye."
----------
"Fucking bastard shit can I get a fucking medic out there after Sambora right fucking now you stupid fucking qntevs? What the fuck is taking so long?"
No answer from any of the medics.
"I think they're all busy," came Rick's voice, sounding strained and far away.
There was only one course of action she could think of, and after a quick check to make sure her shields were okay, Gyl piloted her ship directly into the center of the chaos.
----------
"It's working, they're following Viv and Phil."
"Thank fuck. Pull up a little and de-cloak."
Joe nodded and did as he was told, Tico too wrapped around David to actually fly.
"Someone's got Richie's ship," David said quietly.
"He'll be fine."
"Nq'wupyn's firing at them."
"Shit."
"Not hitting, yet. They're dodging, and...they're out of range. Thank fuck."
The ship shook a little - they were safely docked.
And nearly squeezed to death by Joe and Sav, all four of them falling to the floor with the force of the group hug.
Tico sighed. "I know you're happy and relieved and all that shit, but we don't have time for this."
"Right, right," Joe said, wiggling out of the pile and straightening up.
"Old sap," Viv grinned. "So what's the plan?"
"I...have no blessed idea."
"Well think fast, he's coming for us."
Tico sighed and straightened up. "I know what to do. And none of you are gonna tell me not to, got it?"
----------
"Rick, I've got Richie's ship in tow. Get the fuck out here and cover for me."
It was only a few seconds before he made it over, but with all the explosions around her it might as well have been an eternity.
"Incoming call from - "
"Dad?"
"Gyl, take a look at Nq'wupyn's ship and tell me what he has for a gun."
"Um." She pulled up the camera, fingers flying to get it focused quickly. "What do you want to know specifically?"
"How much ammo before he has to reload?"
"Fifteen rounds."
"How many did he use on Richie?"
"Three or four."
Tico nodded and turned to Phil. "And on you?"
"Uh. Eleven?"
"Yeah, eleven."
"So he has one round left."
"One or two, yeah. Why?"
"Gyl, I love you." The screen went blank.
What the zaj?
----------
"Tico, what are you doing?"
Tico pulled David close, sliding his arms around David's neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. The other three looked on with eyebrows arched.
Tico kissed him forever but pulled back too soon, pressing one last quick kiss to his lips before pulling away.
"Tico?"
"Goodbye, David. Joe, when he's out of ammo, hook him with the tow line."
"Tico, what - "
One more kiss. "Goodbye."
Something held David immobile as Tico walked back to where his ship was docked, as the sounds of the door sliding open and closed echoed through the corridors, as Tico's ship pulling away rocked the floor he was standing on.
It was the sight of Tico's ship gliding in between Joe's and Nq'wupyn's that pushed him into action, but by then it was too late.
"Oh my God, he's not - "
"Do something, Joe! Stop him, for fuck's sake!"
Nose pressed against the glass of the view screen, he watched in horror as first one shot, then another connected with the hull, and in an instant, Tico vanished in a ball of smoke and fire.
And it was over.
----------
"Don't just sit there, Gyl, get him safe. I can only do so much."
"Right, sorry." She shook her head a little, accelerating her ship to get Richie out of the line of fire as soon as possible.
"What was that about?"
"Huh? Oh. Dad wanted to know how much ammo the bastard had."
"Huh. Why - holy shit."
They both froze in their tracks, knocked still by the sight of the massive explosion up where the others were waiting in the ship.
"Oh my God."
The smoke cleared, and both of them sucked in their breath at the same time. Nq'wupyn's ship was being drawn towards Joe's.
"Cease fire! Cease fire now! They've got him!"
And it was over.
----------
"Incoming call from Jon Bon Jovi."
David had crumpled to the floor, expression completely vacant.
"Shock," Viv said, shaking his head and threading his fingers with Phil's. "Poor guy."
"Incoming call from Jon Bon Jovi."
Sav crouched down next to David and rubbed his back gently as Joe sank into his seat, calling up the view screen.
Jon was beaming. "We've got pictures, recordings, eyewitness reports - there's enough here to convict a nun. How's it going out there?"
"Well, we have Nq'wupyn."
"Excellent."
"Uh. We saw Richie's ship go down, but we think a medic got to him in time. But," Joe sighed. "Jon, Tico's dead."
Hearing the words brought David back to reality, and he wailed, curling up into himself.
Jon sank into a chair. "Oh no."
"He - we'll explain when we get back."
Jon scrubbed his hands over his face. "At least it's over."
"And thank God for that."
And for the first time since the battle began, there was no sound to break the silence except David's soft cries.
It was really and truly over.
Genre: Gen, Slash, Het
Bands: Bon Jovi, Def Leppard
Main Characters: David Bryan, Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, Tico Torres, Joe Elliott, Phil Collen, Rick Allen, Rick Savage, Vivian Campbell
Adult Content: No
Words: 2745
Chapter: 12/13
Summary: Smart-mouthed nine-breasted Venusian women, bouncy and naive Earth men, tough-talking asshole Charonite pilots, friendly space pirates, and a deep-seated revenge plot that goes back decades - just another work week for Jon Bon Jovi, Interplanetary Secretary of Transportation.
Teaser: When the tension broke, it was swift and unexpected. Like someone had cut a thread binding everything together, all Hell broke loose.
Where time had moved so quickly before, it now stood still. It felt like the moon and everyone on or around it was holding its collective breath, even the hum of 300 fighter ships just outside the atmosphere seemingly silent in anticipation.
When the tension broke, it was swift and unexpected. Like someone had cut a thread binding everything together, all Hell broke loose.
----------
As expected, a first wave came from Pluto. An attempt to silence the barbarians before Nq'wupyn and his troops were in any danger. But they underestimated their enemy, and there was no worse mistake they could possibly make.
Richie's communication unit let him speak to all the ships of the fleet, and his command to hold steady until he gave the word boomed loud and clear into every ship.
Somebody panicked.
The Plutonian ships were still out of range when a shot fired out from somewhere in Nof's unit, three sets of voices barking "hold your goddamned fire!" before Richie even got the chance.
The civilians were in trouble, their lack of experience allowing nerves and panic to override orders and common sense. More shots were fired, ships breaking rank left and right, and the Plutonian army kept coming.
A shot louder than the rest, followed by a small explosion and a shriek, went off behind Richie.
"When your Commanders say to hold your goddamn fire, it means hold your fucking goddamn fire!" Gyl screamed, over the communication lines. "Goddammit. Medics, go get that ship. And the next fucking ship that fires before the fucking order, I'll actually aim at. Bunch of fucking qntevs. Christ."
Richie's grin was so wide his cheeks hurt. And though he wouldn't have thought it possible, it widened when he realized the Plutonians had stopped advancing.
The kings of underestimation were going to stand back and let them take themselves out. Richie couldn't have planned this better.
"All ships, advance until you're in range, and open fire. Remember, our job is to disable, not destroy."
The poor bastards never saw it coming. The army collectively lurched forward, and before their hands could reach the weapons controls, half their fleet was down.
The Charonites were clumsy and unsure, but their motivation was survival and there's no winning against that sort of desperation. Explosions rocked around them, screams echoing across the communication lines punctuated by Gyl's screams for medics. But the army lurched forward, and the Plutonians fell hard.
In the end, it was more destruction than disabling, but Richie couldn't bring himself to care. Cleanup barges directed by Rick waited until the last Plutonian ship had fallen, then zoomed out to gather the flaming debris before it damaged any Charonite ships.
"Commander Allen, damage report."
"Seventeen ships hit from Nof's unit, thirteen from Wykel's. All but three safely retrieved. Five that can't be repaired. The rest are grounded for repairs. Six deaths, two injuries that will probably be fatal, ten grounded but will recover, and the other twelve will be given new ships and rejoining us as soon as possible."
"Good. Torres?"
"Uh. Ten from Rutnaw, twenty-two from Smith, including the one I took out for firing early. All recovered, fifteen beyond repair. Two deaths, six probably-fatal injuries, the rest waiting for new ships."
"Excellent. Doing okay?"
"Fabulous."
Richie nodded, although no one could see him. "I'm gonna call and update Command Central, so I'll be on radio silence. If you need me badly, just fire a blank my way."
"I always need you badly, Hot Stuff."
He grinned. "Well, you have to control yourself a little while longer."
----------
Joe blinked at the view screen in near disbelief.
"Well bloody Hell, they did it."
David giggled. "You sound like you didn't expect them to."
"I did. Just not quite so easily."
"I wanna know who the fucker was that took out one of their own ships," Tico growled.
"Calm down," David said, and kissed him. "No one did anything about it, so there must've been a good reason."
"Good reason my ass."
"Incoming call from FS625-18, com unit 75-68-158-177."
Tico punched a few buttons, and Richie's face popped up before them.
"That was bloody fabulous, Sambora."
He grinned. "Shaky start, but awesome finish."
"Who was the fucker shooting her own fucking - "
"Gyl."
Tico blinked. "What?"
"Someone fired before the order, people panicked and kept firing, no one was listening, so Gyl disabled a ship to make a point."
"Bet they listened after that," Joe said with a grin.
"Huh."
"See? Told you there was a good reason."
"Shut up, you," Tico grumbled, swatting his ass.
"Ew. Keep the foreplay where I can't see it. Anyway, we had a fair amount of casualties, but most are minor and we're replacing their ships, so we didn't lost that many."
Tico nodded. "Viv and Phil called about ten minutes ago, they spotted Nq'wupyn's fleet headed this way. They guessed it at about a thousand ships."
"That many?"
"That's what they said, yes. From when and where they called, I'd guess you have about half an hour."
"Fuck. Guess we've got our work cut out for us, then. Signal if you get any updates."
"Will do. Good luck."
"I think we're gonna need it," said Richie, with a wry smile. "Keep me posted."
----------
"Alright, troops. That was good, but it was also a small army and a lot of luck. Consider it a training exercise, 'cause the real battle is on its way to us. Focus, and follow orders. You've seen it happen - we will not hesitate to disable you if we think you're doing more harm than good. Clear?"
The resounding "yes, sir" echoing down the line from slightly less than 300 ships nearly deafened Richie.
He could get used to this.
"Are all ships in place?"
"Alpha is," answered Rick.
"So's Beta. More than Alpha," Gyl said, and Richie could hear all the bravado and none of the tremor. Good for her.
"As soon as we spot them, the strike team is gonna go up and over. The second we tell you we have Nq'wupyn and to cease fire, you cease. They're required to retreat once we have him, but they'll return fire if we give it. Once again, do more harm than good and you're fucked."
They appeared over the horizon of Pluto, an army of white warships that looked an awful lot like a flock of doves. Odd image, that.
"Ho-lee shit," Gyl muttered, probably forgetting she was connected to the entire fleet.
"Strike team, get cloaked, and follow me. Rick, Gyl...have fun."
They were just about over the first line of ships when Rick and Gyl's twin screams of "Fire at will!" roared in their ears, and it was on.
------------
Chaos was the only word for it. You can strategize and plan and work everything out to the last detail, but war can never be anything other than chaos.
A blinding, deafening thunder and lighting storm of deadly precision raged around them, enveloping each and every ship in a cloud of pure light and heat. It was nearly impossible for anyone to see, firing blindly into the wave of white ships, Gyl's near-constant yells for medics barely rising over the roar.
Rick flew like a madman, weaving and twisting and dodging a million shots that should have killed him. His aim was unnaturally accurate, but he didn't stop long enough to notice that every ship he fired at went down. Time was too important to stop for victory celebrations.
It soon became clear that, though Gyl's flight and aim were far clumsier, she had her own strategy - if one ship dies dramatically enough, it'll take down its neighbors. She aimed for fuel tanks and thrusters, causing explosions that came close to knocking out fifteen ships sometimes.
And Richie and his strike team rose above the cacophony, invisible angels of death zooming past a seemingly endless sea of white to seek out their prey. Screams echoed down the line, a few among them recognizing the voice of this one or that and nearly losing focus. But Richie egged them on tirelessly, coaxing them to new heights, new speeds, new levels of focus where everything but their mission melted away.
He had no stake in this, no emotional ties to any of it, but he was a man possessed and he demanded no less of his crew.
And the battle raged on.
----------
Every time a ship went down, Tico cringed. He was getting so bad David was considering dragging him off somewhere he couldn't watch.
"Bloody Hell, it's a mess down there."
"We can fucking see that, Joe, thank you."
David rubbed his shoulder. "She's fine."
"You don't know that."
"Tico, it'll be fine."
"I shouldn't've sent her down there."
"She would've gone anyway."
"Lqnar could've kept her at the capitol. She - "
"Tico. She would've hated you forever if you did that."
"Richie and Rick could handle it fine on their own."
"Probably. But this way is better, and they needed her for this. Now stop fretting, or I'm gonna hafta drag you off somewhere and distract you."
"Oh bloody Hell."
"What?"
"I see Viv and Phil."
----------
There it was, a fair distance back from the regular troops. Nq'wupyn's ship.
"Approach slowly. We need the element of surprise - he's bound to have good radar, so don't get ahead of yourselves. Stay behind me, wait for my word."
An explosion sounded behind him, so close he could feel his ship tremble, and Richie rushed to turn his camera on. More explosions, and Richie felt all the blood rush to his feet.
They'd been spotted, somehow. A cloaker must have malfunctioned, or someone overestimated the distance - it didn't matter. Something went wrong, and they were fucked.
Richie took a deep breath, steeled himself, and with all guns blazing, his ship lurched forward.
Directly into a blast from Nq'wupyn's ship.
----------
"Jesus shit, I think that was Richie," David stammered out, clutching Tico's hand.
"Shit. Joe, call Viv and Phil. Tell them to dip down by that big ship in the back, turn off the cloaker, and then come up here."
"Are you bloody insane?"
"Richie and that medic going after him are sitting ducks. We need to draw Nq'wupyn's attention. Just fucking do it."
Joe nodded and moved as quickly as they'd ever seen him.
"We're almost - "
"De-cloak and dip down towards the big ship. You don't have time to ask. Just dip, come back up, and we'll make ourselves visible. Do it now. Bye."
----------
"Fucking bastard shit can I get a fucking medic out there after Sambora right fucking now you stupid fucking qntevs? What the fuck is taking so long?"
No answer from any of the medics.
"I think they're all busy," came Rick's voice, sounding strained and far away.
There was only one course of action she could think of, and after a quick check to make sure her shields were okay, Gyl piloted her ship directly into the center of the chaos.
----------
"It's working, they're following Viv and Phil."
"Thank fuck. Pull up a little and de-cloak."
Joe nodded and did as he was told, Tico too wrapped around David to actually fly.
"Someone's got Richie's ship," David said quietly.
"He'll be fine."
"Nq'wupyn's firing at them."
"Shit."
"Not hitting, yet. They're dodging, and...they're out of range. Thank fuck."
The ship shook a little - they were safely docked.
And nearly squeezed to death by Joe and Sav, all four of them falling to the floor with the force of the group hug.
Tico sighed. "I know you're happy and relieved and all that shit, but we don't have time for this."
"Right, right," Joe said, wiggling out of the pile and straightening up.
"Old sap," Viv grinned. "So what's the plan?"
"I...have no blessed idea."
"Well think fast, he's coming for us."
Tico sighed and straightened up. "I know what to do. And none of you are gonna tell me not to, got it?"
----------
"Rick, I've got Richie's ship in tow. Get the fuck out here and cover for me."
It was only a few seconds before he made it over, but with all the explosions around her it might as well have been an eternity.
"Incoming call from - "
"Dad?"
"Gyl, take a look at Nq'wupyn's ship and tell me what he has for a gun."
"Um." She pulled up the camera, fingers flying to get it focused quickly. "What do you want to know specifically?"
"How much ammo before he has to reload?"
"Fifteen rounds."
"How many did he use on Richie?"
"Three or four."
Tico nodded and turned to Phil. "And on you?"
"Uh. Eleven?"
"Yeah, eleven."
"So he has one round left."
"One or two, yeah. Why?"
"Gyl, I love you." The screen went blank.
What the zaj?
----------
"Tico, what are you doing?"
Tico pulled David close, sliding his arms around David's neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. The other three looked on with eyebrows arched.
Tico kissed him forever but pulled back too soon, pressing one last quick kiss to his lips before pulling away.
"Tico?"
"Goodbye, David. Joe, when he's out of ammo, hook him with the tow line."
"Tico, what - "
One more kiss. "Goodbye."
Something held David immobile as Tico walked back to where his ship was docked, as the sounds of the door sliding open and closed echoed through the corridors, as Tico's ship pulling away rocked the floor he was standing on.
It was the sight of Tico's ship gliding in between Joe's and Nq'wupyn's that pushed him into action, but by then it was too late.
"Oh my God, he's not - "
"Do something, Joe! Stop him, for fuck's sake!"
Nose pressed against the glass of the view screen, he watched in horror as first one shot, then another connected with the hull, and in an instant, Tico vanished in a ball of smoke and fire.
And it was over.
----------
"Don't just sit there, Gyl, get him safe. I can only do so much."
"Right, sorry." She shook her head a little, accelerating her ship to get Richie out of the line of fire as soon as possible.
"What was that about?"
"Huh? Oh. Dad wanted to know how much ammo the bastard had."
"Huh. Why - holy shit."
They both froze in their tracks, knocked still by the sight of the massive explosion up where the others were waiting in the ship.
"Oh my God."
The smoke cleared, and both of them sucked in their breath at the same time. Nq'wupyn's ship was being drawn towards Joe's.
"Cease fire! Cease fire now! They've got him!"
And it was over.
----------
"Incoming call from Jon Bon Jovi."
David had crumpled to the floor, expression completely vacant.
"Shock," Viv said, shaking his head and threading his fingers with Phil's. "Poor guy."
"Incoming call from Jon Bon Jovi."
Sav crouched down next to David and rubbed his back gently as Joe sank into his seat, calling up the view screen.
Jon was beaming. "We've got pictures, recordings, eyewitness reports - there's enough here to convict a nun. How's it going out there?"
"Well, we have Nq'wupyn."
"Excellent."
"Uh. We saw Richie's ship go down, but we think a medic got to him in time. But," Joe sighed. "Jon, Tico's dead."
Hearing the words brought David back to reality, and he wailed, curling up into himself.
Jon sank into a chair. "Oh no."
"He - we'll explain when we get back."
Jon scrubbed his hands over his face. "At least it's over."
"And thank God for that."
And for the first time since the battle began, there was no sound to break the silence except David's soft cries.
It was really and truly over.