daughter - youth (victuuri, maybe? i'm not sorry. okay. i'm a little bit sorry. i will probably be even sorrier, afterwards.)
day 5 part 2!!
By the time Yuuri makes it back to the bridge, the Firebird has already completed the jump sequences. Jump complete, NICA announces as the screens slide back to admit him and Viktor. We are currently at the Nevan-Mandalan Neutral Zone, as delineated by the Yagudin Asteroid Belt.
“NICA, locate the Almavivo,” Mila commands.
On the viewing panel, a closeup photograph is taken of a passing asteroid, with a set of red crosshairs highlighting a small Mandalan shuttle.
“Chris, can you take us there?” asks Mila. Christophe looks at Phichit, who squeezes his arm and smiles. The Alpha Allegrian nods, pulling up the yoke of the ship.
“NICA, plot us a course to the Almavivo,” he says.
Calculating safest course to the Almavivo, chirps NICA. Yuuri looks over at Viktor, who is leaning over Mila’s shoulder, his knuckles white against the black pleather.
Yuuri’s not someone who gets motion sickness easily, even out in space, but usually navigating asteroid belts make him nauseous. The ever-present danger of careening asteroids keeps the Firebird wheeling and dipping to avoid them, with Christophe employing some rather tricky manoeuvres at times to yank them from the jaws of death.
“Careful,” Mila hisses, as an asteroid clips against the ship’s starboard shielding.
You have an incoming transmission from the Almavivo, NICA suddenly announces.
“On audio,” says Mila. There’s a click, and the sound of panicked breathing can be heard.
“Don’t come closer,” a feminine voice snaps. “This ship has photon cannons, and I will use them.”
“They are bluffing; they don’t have the access codes,” Seung-gil mutters, but Mila holds up a hand.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” she says, her voice deliberately calm. “We don’t want a fight. We’re just here for Prince Yuri.”
“Tell me who you are,” the voice insists.
“I’m Captain Mila Babicheva of the Firebird,” says Mila. Christophe suddenly swerves around a rogue asteroid, sending Yuuri careening towards the scanners. He decides perhaps it’s better if he sits down, and promptly finds the nearest vacated seat and buckles in. “We were hired to locate and return Prince Yuri of the House of Nikiforov.”
“Who hired you?”
Viktor steps forward. “It’s me, Viktor,” he says.
There’s a moment of silence, punctuated by the static. The breathing on the other end quickens.
“Don’t come any closer,” the voice says.
“Anya,” insists Viktor. “I came as myself. Not as the government. I just want my brother back.”
“Anya?” hisses Mila, eyes wide. Viktor nods.
There’s the sound of a choked sob. “Do you know… do you know all the years I have lost?” Anya demands over the line, her voice wavering. The asteroid bearing the Almavivo draws ever-nearer, but there’s no attack from the ship docked on the surface.
Yuuri looks over at Viktor, who looks so much older than he has any right to be. “I’m sorry, Anya, but you did kill all of those people,” the prince says quietly. “They were innocent; why did they have to die?”
“My sister was innocent, too.” Anya’s voice is hard. “The only crime she was guilty of was the crime of fleeing a bond with a man twice her age.”
Viktor blinks. “But that doesn’t explain why you had to kill all of those people,” he points out. “Or were those at the party on Armistice Day also guilty of killing your sister?”
Yuuri notices that his hands are running through thin air, as if feeling the memory of some scrap of fabric through his hands. There’s a long silence full of static, and then –
The connection cuts out. The Almavivo’s proton cannons are primed, NICA warns.
“Looks like she found your access codes,” Phichit tells Seung-gil, who folds his hands behind his back.
“She is clearly more proficient at flying Mandalan ships than we gave her credit for,” he reasons.
“Anya Romanova came from a family of mechanics,” Viktor says. “Her sister Natalya was also a Candidate, but she was found younger.” A shadow passes over his face at the name, and Yuuri has the urge to take his hand.
Slowly he unbuckles his seatbelt, crosses over to Viktor to stand beside him. Viktor leans into him; Yuuri briefly brushes his pinky to sense the worry bubbling deep below.
The first blast comes soon after. Christophe swerves, avoiding the bolt only for the ship to smash a smaller asteroid to pieces. Hull plating has been damaged, NICA announces. Shields at 90%.
Another blast. “Isn’t she flying a Mandalan ship? Isn’t this a breach of the Treaty?” Phichit demands.
“Self-defense clause,” Christophe retorts, steering the ship away from yet another bolt. The next one glances just across their bow.
“She fired on us,” Mila growls. “It wouldn’t hold up in court.”
“We were pursuing her. It could,” Christophe replies.
“Try to get her back online,” Viktor hisses. “I need to talk to her.”
“I’m trying, Your Highness!” Sara complains. “She’s not responding!”
Just as they’re about to send another request for contact, the alarms start to sound.
Sara pales. “We’ve got contact!” she exclaims. “An entire fleet of Nevan starcruisers, weapons hot. They just jumped two clicks from the belt.”
Candidate Anya Romanova, calls the captain of the commandship over the broadcast channel. Surrender your ship and your hostage or we will be forced to take action.
“The Almavivo’s turning,” says Phichit. “Why’s she – oh.”
The sound of proton cannons fills the air even from this distance. Christophe swerves again, finally pulling in to a spot behind the ship, facing away from the cannons now firing out onto the Nevan fleet.
Candidate Anya Romanova, your actions have declared you as hostile and we will use any means necessary –
“Stand down!” Viktor shouts. “Open a privileged channel onto that commandship and get them to stand down!”
“Already ahead of you,” says Sara. Moments later, the commander’s face fills the screen, his expression deeply displeased.
“Your Highness, are you saying we should take this treason unpunished?” demands the commander.
“Medvedev, any damage to her ship risks losing Prince Yura,” Viktor snaps.
“There’s no proof that he’s even onboard!”
“NICA, scan for lifeforms on the Almavivo,” Viktor instructs, not even taking his eyes off the screen. Yuuri feels a surge of heat coursing through his body at the regal poise the prince has right now, the imperious look in his eyes.
With pleasure, announces NICA. There are 2 sapient lifeforms onboard.
Medvedev is bright cerulean. “That proves nothing!”
“It proves there’s still a chance,” retorts Viktor. “She’s got a hostage. Whether that’s Yura or not is entirely provable, but not necessarily the point. If she’s got a hostage, whoever it is is her bargaining chip to something she wants. We need someone to negotiate with her.”
“You can’t do that under the Treaty,” Christophe points out. “As long as there’s a fleet of Nevans willing to strike her down, any negotiation from you represents the Nevan government, and your current position would have you breaching the boundaries.”
“What about Seung-gil?” asks Phichit.
“He is not allowed to be here in his official capacity either,” replies Christophe. “You need someone from neither species.”
“Your father is the Allegrian Ambassador,” Seung-gil points out drily. “Wouldn’t that qualify you?”
“Diplomacy isn’t always his strong suit,” Phichit cuts in, smiling beatifically. “The only people on this ship with actual hostage negotiation crisis training are me and Yuuri.”
“I’ll do it.”
The words shock Yuuri, too, just a little. But they’ve come out of his mouth, and for some reason he feels as if he’d just agreed to carry some priceless artefact across the galaxy to destroy it instead.
Mila’s expression is pinched. “It’s too dangerous,” she warns.
But Viktor is smiling, and the sheer amount of pride in his eyes makes this sudden decision worth it. “I’m Terran,” Yuuri says, looking probably a whole lot more cocky than he feels.
His eyes connect with Viktor’s, bright and burning, full of promise. He smiles back.
“If it’s not dangerous, what’s the point?”
