It took Centric several seconds to send the message, trying to ensure that each word was clear and focused rather than as concerned as he felt.

An explosion came from beyond the balcony, and Centric poked his head out in time to see a blaze of fire erupt from the building on the left. The flames danced and crackled in the night air, leaping high above the rooftop, and seemed to breathe and live as it spread throughout the structure. Behind him, Delargivic let out a whoop of delight, practically dancing in the chair he was tied to.

‟Firenanite, it’s about time they broke out the firenanite!” He strained his head to get a better look out the door, his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas. He spoke in a lilting, almost musical voice, each of the words running into each other in his excitement. ‟Oh, what a wonderful sight, if only I could have been the one to give the order for its use. It’s such a magnificent weapon, and the occasions are just all too rare for when we actually get to break it out.”

‟I said, shut your mouth, or I will make sure it’s shut permanently,” Centric rose his fist as it shook with nerves, which only served to further delight the prisoner.

A bang filled the room as Gareth burst back in with two other Siatian soldiers, each firing off flurries of shots back into the hallway. He slammed the door shut, and they quickly grabbed the desk to drag it over in front of the bookshelf just before the Arcadians started banging on the door. Once it was in place, they leaned against it, their breathing coming ragged gasps.

‟They’re in, sir, and I don’t know how many of us are left.” Gareth jerked a thumb to each of the two soldiers with him. ‟They’re the only ones I found on my way up here, and what the bloody hell is that?”

Gareth pointed to the fire consuming the building, the structure now mostly reduced to its frame. The blaze seemed to run along the ground, crashing like a tidal wave over the Arcadian trucks and ripping them to shreds before continuing to the trees beyond.

‟Oh, glorious firenanite, how dearly I missed you, but you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder!”

Delargivic’s laughter seemed to echo over the sound of the crackling fire, continuing to pierce the room, and the two newcomers briefly glanced at each other before taking up positions at either side of the door. They briefly poked their heads around the stone, firing off bursts of shots towards the Arcadians still remaining, though their numbers had diminished. Another set of wires rapped around the railing, and it ripped itself free from the wall, crashing to the ground with a reverberating clang.

In the distance, the sound of a transport’s engines began to overpower the fire as the dropship approached. It roared overhead, the autocannon on the front spinning in every direction to cut down the Arcadians still attempting to scale the walls and rescue their Emperor. The Siatian soldiers whooped in delight as it came to a stop just past the balcony and its door opened wide, revealing an older man with black hair and a slight beard speckled with gray. A soldier crouched to either side of him, their rifles pointed towards the palace and carefully scanning the surroundings.

‟I heard someone called for an extraction,” the man said, waving them forward. He gave them a salute with a fist to the chest and bowed his head slightly in their direction. ‟Strategos Enzo Warwick at your service.”

Bangs still issued from the door of the office as the Arcadians inside threw themselves against it in their attempts to get it open. Centric walked over to Catlow’s body, picking it up and hoisting it over his shoulder. After all, her body deserved better than to be left to whatever fate the Arcadians had in mind once they bust in. Gareth cut Delargivic free from the chair and forced him to stand before pushing him forward towards the glass door. The two other soldiers took up the rear, their rifles aimed at the bookshelf door, and slowly followed behind Gareth.

Centric was the first to arrive at the transport, his knees weak and wobbly as he stepped out into the open air. The fire still blazed fiercely beyond the transport, and, when he opened his visor, the smell of oxidation mixed with burning flesh and metal invaded his nose, causing him to miss a step and retch. It took him a moment—an embarrassing moment, to say the least—to recover and step up to the man in the transport. No Arcadians seemed to still be outside the palace, the remaining ones having entered and attempted to reach their Emperor.

‟Captain Centric, it is an honor to meet you,” Warwick said, holding his hand out to the captain and helping him lift Catlow’s body into the transport. A solemn expression passed over his face as he looked at the remainder of the Siatian squadrons after securing the limp figure to a seat. ‟Though, I do wish it could have been under better circumstances. You all look like you’ve taken quite the beating.”

The Strategos gestured to Centric’s armor, and he looked down at it for the first time to see the dings and dents and marks from the assortment of bullets that had attempted to break through it. Centric took a deep breath and shook his head lazily, trying his best not to laugh during the severity of the moment. He looked over the three troopers remaining and couldn’t help but smile, the effort of doing so straining his cheeks.

‟It is truly an honor to have served alongside you three, as well as those that we have lost including Sergeant Catlow.”

‟Well, if you could just tell Xaaaleyyyyp how sorry I am to have missed him,” Delargivic said, drawing everyone’s attention to him, ‟that would be amazing. I appreciate the warm welcome, but it is time for me to go.”

Delargivic tore himself free from Gareth’s grip and sprinted for the edge of the balcony, leaping as he went and flipping himself over and smiling at the assembled Siatians. As he fell, the smile disappeared and a piercing scream erupted from his mouth, his arms and legs flailing as much as they could in every direction as he tried to catch himself on anything he could find.

Centric didn’t think before reacting, sticking both of his arms out and shooting his grappling wires towards the falling man. They wrapped around his body, tightly gripping onto each other and dragging Centric to the very edge of the transport before Warwick caught him around the midsection. The other three soldiers ran over to the edge, looking down to see where the Emperor went.

Delargivic’s body stopped a meter from the ground, the momentum of the fall slamming into the side of the building with a thud. He struggled under the grip of the wires in a futile attempt to break free as Centric retracted the wires, slowly pulling him back up. His body snagged several times on the way up, catching on the rough stone, before it finally appeared at the top again and the other Siatians pulled him over.

‟Alright, enough playing around everyone, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule,” Warwick said, gesturing vaguely to the glass door. ‟Well, that’s our cue. Everyone on, now, unless you want to be left behind.”

From inside, the banging of Arcadians reached a peak, with many different hits coming from the other side. The desk moved slightly under the force of the assault and screeched against the metal floor. Gareth gripped Delargivic—who now had a fearful expression on his face, doing his best to stay away from the edge—by the collar and roughly shoved him forward. The other Siatians followed behind, quickly filing into the transport with the aid of the captain and aiming their assault rifles towards the door. Gareth strapped Delargivic to one of the seats, ensuring that he was kept restrained.

As if on cue, the desk finally broke free from its position and the Arcadians poured into the room, scanning the corners and running to the balcony door. Both sides shouted in surprise and exchanged fire as the transport door slid shut, shielding them from the attack. Bullets pinged and skidded off the metal and glass, deflecting ineffectually off into the night air. Delargivic began laughing gleefully again, and it seemed to be even louder than before in the enclosed space.

‟Go!” Warwick shouted to the pilot, who nodded briefly and pressed a series of buttons and switches.

The transport took off and soared away from the palace, its engines flaring brightly and the g-forces nearly knocking them off their feet. Captain Centric, however, toppled over from the sudden force, clutching his chest as he hit the floor. When he pulled his hand away, crimson liquid dripped from his fingers onto the exosuit and floor.

‟Captain, what the hell happened to you?” Gareth moved to his side at once, putting both his hands firmly against Centric’s chest. For the first time, a fearful expression plastered itself over the trooper’s face. ‟You’re going to be okay. You made it this far, you just need to make it a little further and we’ll get you to the medical wing or something on the Starkiller. Just hold on for a little while longer, okay?”

The other Siatians crowded around him, each trying to figure out what to do. Warwick leaned against the wall, knowing better than to try to help.

‟Gareth, don’t even start with that bullshit.” Centric coughed, a blot of blood expelling from his throat and dribbling over his chin. He tilted his head to look at the Strategos and took the chip from his pocket with a shaking hand, holding it out to the man. ‟Please give this to whoever it belongs to.”

Warwick stepped forward and knelt beside Centric, taking the chip and looking it over once, then twice, twirling it between his fingers then reading the name etched into it. After a brief moment of confusion, his lips pursed into a circle, and he nodded.

‟I will.”

Captain Travis Centric took one final, gurgling breath before closing his eyes and lay still. The transport continued flying unharried towards the atmosphere and, ultimately, the Starkiller.