“I’m trying!” Deet said. It really didn’t look like it. He was making small movements with his feet, but it really only succeeded in helping him circle around Oh One, whose position wasn’t changing at all. A wayward strike hit one of the electronic panels on the wall, sending blue and yellow sparks everywhere and adding to the already-colorful display. One of the overhead screens swung precariously from the cable attaching it to the ceiling.

“You’re not trying hard enough,” Rogers said.

He was staying low now, the concentration of smoke making it hard for him to stand without starting to cough. He was starting to get dizzy. Grabbing the helmet of his VMU, he put it on his head and turned on the oxygen flow, instantly relieving his lungs but not doing much for the blazing heat all around him. He might be able to breathe now, but that only meant that he’d be able to squeal while he cooked inside the VMU.

“Get out of my way!” Deet cried.

One thing Rogers had to give him: this was way less boring than the last droid fu fight he’d witnessed. Though, honestly, Rogers thought he preferred it boring.

Through his own smoky tears, Rogers saw Deet attempt to advance again, but Oh One knocked one of his blows sideways, sending a piece of debris from one of the consoles flying overhead. It struck the display that had already been tottering, and all of a sudden, it was raining hardware.

Rogers dove out of the way of one of the screens, landing face first in a pile of flaming pillowcases that he hurriedly brushed away. He heard a creak and flipped around just in time to see some nondescript piece of something flying directly toward his face. Screaming, Rogers scooted back just far enough so that the whatever-it-was landed on the top part of his legs instead of his face.

Pain blossomed in his legs, and for a moment, he wondered if it had snapped both of his legs off. Wiggling his toes told him that he still had them, however, but there was no way he was moving this display console off him. He struggled but couldn’t gain any leverage on the heavy piece of equipment. He was stuck. And soon, he’d be on fire.

“Deet!” he called through the speaker in his VMU. “Hurry!”

“I’m hurrying!” Deet called. He wasn’t looking at Rogers but began an absurd, archaic taunting of Oh One. “My armor may not glisten like yours, foul brother of mine, but it is twice as thick. You shall not pass!”

In hindsight, what Rogers probably should have said was “Help, I’m trapped under debris,” because shortly after hearing Rogers’ cry to hurry up, Deet finally pushed Oh One out of the control room, the door of which slammed shut behind them. That wouldn’t have been so bad had another piece of ceiling-bound equipment not crashed to the floor, very efficiently barricading Rogers inside a room that was quickly filling with flames.