The Victory lifted into the air. Hijacked. It wouldn’t cooperate without fingerprints, seat weight, or the right passwords, though the override did a lot.

The override would also have given the tinker access to the comms and systems of this craft. It would be why the hacker had suddenly lunged into a complete takeover. It would be giving her access to Teacher’s systems as well.

He watched as the Victory I scraped its way along the platform, through a section of garden, and over the edge.

It plummeted.

There was no way she could fly it, but—

But Saint threw himself over the edge, onto the back of the craft. Mischa gave chase.

He chased, as Saint struggled hand over hand to reach the hatch, the ship periodically whipping around as a wing caught the air. The falling trajectory of the Victory put it in line to crash into the exterior wall of the facility.

Below, Legend was in the air, assaulting the Yàngbǎn-assisted squadron. The shots he used were either too minor to penetrate their protection, that made them glow like metal instead of being burned or cut, or they were too big, and too risky, as the squad slapped those shots aside or redirected them into the platform. The group was cut off, and too much damage to the platform would send all of them to their doom. It forced him to play defensive.

The Victory I crashed into the wall. It tumbled through the air, Saint parting ways from it as he started to freefall.

And Mischa was given a choice. His friend, who was doing his best to remain horizontal to the ground, to create more drag, or the damaged wing that broke free, careening toward the platform.

He went after his friend, disabling his halo so he wouldn’t shoot Saint out of the air, closed in, and took a heavy blast from Legend.

Again, he tried. Again, Legend shot him.

To make sure the hero knew the danger, he focused the halo’s lasers on the section of wing that still flew on trajectory to strike the platform, demolishing it.

Legend shot the wing, breaking it in half. He shot the next half, only to hit the projected forcefield. Too casual a shot.

Mischa caught Saint, as gently as he was able, and held Saint to his chest. He watched as the section of wing plunged, striking the platform without breaking it. It crashed into the squadron of Yàngbǎn, and those it didn’t kill outright were bowled over, sent over the ledge.

Which freed what remained of Legend’s squad to go on the offensive, to catch, disable, or kill the stragglers who hadn’t been hit.