Return to Coruscant [Exemplary]

[Samus Aran]

Samus’s brain worked in overdrive, sketching out the skeleton of some kind of plan as she slowly approached the android. She called back to the Stormtroopers, moving her head just slightly and keeping her eyes locked on the target. “We’re taking him in. Don’t shoot.” She moved her head back and lowered her voice. “Co-operate with me. If you don’t … bad things will happen. Understand?”

The android nodded. Samus felt just the smallest bit of reassurance. She continued, keeping her voice at a murmur.

“The Empire are not a party you want to get on the bad side of. But I can’t guarantee that if you get taken in you’re not going to become part of some military experiment or a pawn in their game. So I’m doing the safest thing. Getting you out of here.”

‘Safe’ seemed like an oxymoron, considering what Samus had in mind. Often, however, the safest thing was what appeared – at surface level – to be the riskiest. It was a tough call, but her experiences of the day only cemented her conviction. Coruscant was no longer safe for her. The Empire couldn’t protect her. The city was rotten from top to bottom. Before she could do anything, she had to find somewhere safe. Somewhere she could build a nest. From there, she’d regroup, recover, and plan her next action.

Keep it loose, Samus reminded herself. That’s a long way from here and now. She glanced up at the sky, then to the augmented-reality controls hovering just above her arm cannon. With a single keytap, she signalled her ship.

“Handcuffs!” Samus barked. A stormtrooper had some ready, and threw them across to her. They looked sturdy – cylinders rather than rings. Built for Primes, no doubt. She nodded to Vitruvius. “Behind your back,” she said, gently but firmly. He looked dubious, but after only a moment he complied. Another good sign. She cuffed his hands behind his back and took him by the shoulder.

“I’m taking him in my ship,” Samus announced. There was a rumble of disagreement.

“This is our jurisdiction now, Aran,” said one blue-helmeted trooper, obviously more than your rank-and-file. “We’ll take it from here on out.”

Samus kept her voice level, devoid of emotion, or anything else that betrayed just how badly she was shitting herself. “I got this,” she reassured. “If he breaks out in my ship … he’s got a fight on his hands. And nobody dies.”

“He’s not breaking out of those cuffs,” said the blue helmet trooper, though the others didn’t look so sure.

“No, he’s not,” said Samus.

As they spoke, her ship descended from the skyline. The stormtroopers looked amongst each other. They had to make a quick decision. Samus knew what it would be. Fight a Prime or let them take a prisoner? It was no decision, but still, she let the leader speak before she moved. It wouldn’t do to blow cover so soon. She had to buy time.

“This is out of protocol,” said blue helmet. He sighed irritably, signalling his resignation. “Follow us exactly. Got it? We lead the way.”

“Got it.” Samus pushed her prisoner ahead of her, not roughly but not gently either. The side of her ship flipped up, revealing a ramp. She pushed Vitruvius up it and seated him in the ship’s barrier-prison. In this world, it probably wouldn’t do much good against anyone with real power. Still, it paid to keep up appearances. She closed the ship hatch and moved to the front seat.

Adam’s voice came through the intercom. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Samus?”

Samus grimaced. She was one hundred percent certain the ship wasn’t bugged. She’d gone to great lengths to make sure, and Adam could definitely handle anything on the firewall front. But still. “Just stay quiet, Adam,” she instructed, and turned on the ship’s drive. She looked around to the prisoner. “That goes for you too. Got any questions, speak to the AI.”

[Vitruvius]

The plan was becoming a success. Locked up in cuffs he would easily rip through with his inhuman strength, the robot politely stayed within the confines his captor put him in. His cooperation was all hers, she made the effort to help him while knowing nothing about him other than his perceived level of danger. The logic was bare that going with everything she said would mean less trouble for both of them and prove his intentions of being obedient.

And while he had no plan of escaping or fighting now that he was alone with the machine counterpart, he still would have been distracted by the interior of the ship. Its exterior was already impressive in its sleek looking design. Since coming to Coruscant, a lot of his knowledge was based on reading what was out in the Dataverse as well as the Library, seeing this ship up close and personal gave him a more realistic reference to how advanced technology was in this verse. Amazing how in his world, he was single-handedly the most technologically advanced creation. Here he still felt unique, yet outclassed by the surreal and almost anachronistic technology. Before he was online, the world seemed to radically update its cutting edge every year or so. If Coruscant was reminiscent of a sci-fi future, then how obsolete had he become? Suddenly he found himself thinking of numerous and appropriate quotes by robotic characters from Asimov's novels. They seemed more...relatable?

The far-seeing blue lights that were Vitruvius' eyes scanned his surroundings. The tech was incredible. So advanced. So sophisticated. His references had been sci fi novels and shows. Ranging from derelict and abandoned interiors, to cluttered and messy decks by space bachelors to the pristine bridges kept to military standards. This ship was none of those. Judging from his new host, he made the estimation that it was due to her being a machine like he was. Or it could have been her feminine design. But that was a baseless supposition. While he was “male” and identified as “male”, he wasn't built to the specification of typical male behavior. It would not make sense to create a hunting construct with feminine habits.

Out front he could see the wide windshield. If this ship could traverse the stars then he wondered what the view would be like. Looking at star charts, digital maps of the universe and video feeds of astronauts recording what the great, seamless expanse looked like could never compare to the actual sight. With a window like that, it must be a lot to take in. Did this construct appreciate beauty the way he was programmed to? Or was he unique in the sense that though he was a robot, he was given human sense of appreciation? If they were given the opportunity to communicate with one another, he had plenty of trivial queries to pose about her travels and the sights.

The presence of the ship's AI, as the pilot had pointed out, had not been something he calculated. He supposed even if she were a sophisticated machine like himself that she'd need an AI to assist in flying. He certainly didn't know how to fly a space ship so having back up would be appreciated. He had never interacted with another AI before. In one day he was in the company of two. It was immensely fascinating to him.

After a long while, his questions formulating into reasonable words, Vitruvius spoke, “Adam, was it? Who are you two? And what kind of ship is this?”

[Samus Aran]

12 hours ago. Coruscant: Tier 5.

Back in its hideout, the Stalker smashed. It wasn’t sure for how long it raged. When it began to feel conscious thought again, it felt like what the pirate data referred to as a ‘hangover’. It felt weak. Lethargic. It wanted to … sleep.

But it could not. It was not in its nature to sleep.

So instead of sleeping, it hunted.

There was plenty of food on Tier Five. While it had nothing to fear from any of this floor’s denizens, the Stalker found itself drawn to the shadows. It watched. It waited.

And finally, it found its prey.

A small boy, perhaps itself a kind of hunter, had broken away from the crowds into a small alleyway. It moved with a kind of animalistic instinct, clambering over the edge of a dumpster and tumbling in, paying no heed to the garbage juices that simply added to the stains on its clothing.

The Stalker closed in. Invisible. The boy’s back was turned. The Stalker felt the hunger and let instinct take over. It wasn’t sure how it knew, but it did. Its hand flew out, grabbing the boy and silencing them in a single, efficient motion, its claws closing off the child’s mouth and airway.

It began to feed, the colour and life draining from the body. In unison, a slick rainbow substance began to run up the Stalker’s digits and into its body. With it, the Stalker felt renewed. Energised. It let loose a contented breath as the boy’s body vanished into nothingness, and omnilium filled the Stalker’s tired bones.

The hunger sated, its rage subsided. Stalker returned to invisibility and sloped away, its digitrade feet leaving languid scrapes on the dirty concrete. A fitting appetiser.

But the Stalker was still hungry.

[Samus Aran]

Samus could see the ships surrounding her. She wore a deeper frown even than usual.

There were three ships around them, and on the horizon she thought she could see more. No doubt, the closer they got to Empire headquarters, the denser they would become, until escape became impossible.

The task before her was to choose the most efficient time and location to break away and escape Coruscant. It was not going to be easy. The moment the Imperials got wind that she was making a break for it, they’d unleash fire. Her ship had very few defensive capabilities, and while flying away there certainly wasn’t much it would be able to do offensively. It would make sense, therefore, to leave Adam in charge of steering while she handled defense.

Tch … defense. Adam may have had a point when he said I needed more defensive capabilities.

Samus reached down deep, expecting to find nothing. But, to her great surprise, found something.

I hate to say thanks to Omni, but … well, I’ll say it was good timing, anyway, the hunter thought to herself. She piped up. “Adam, I’m going to summon something. An upgrade. Take the helm and don’t deviate. Yet.”

“Understood,” buzzed the computer.

Samus hated to lose even a few minutes, flying towards Empire headquarters all the while. But without some type of shield to protect the ship, their chances of reaching a Gate intact were less than slim. It briefly crossed her mind that suicide was an option. It would take them back to the Nexus. But it was too risky. Not to mention too horrible. What if she never woke up? Who knew what rules Omni operated on. There was nothing to lose by trying. She would not take the easy option out yet.

The summoning complete, Samus inspected her arm cannon. There was no room to test it out in the cramped confines of her ship, and it in either case it wouldn’t gauge the shield’s true power. It would be being put straight into action. One of these days, I’ll just have every upgrade I need, she thought wryly.

One of these days.

[Vitruvius]

The atmosphere was tense. While Vitruvius had found a certain calmness with being helped out, he could sense the trouble brewing with the situation he found himself in. No doubt his new companion was aware of this. He wasn't actively paying attention to the A.I known as Adam as it described how he wasn't just artificial, but had once been human. Nor had he consciously heard that his hunter was Samus and a long standing bounty hunter. All logged and filed of course, but his focus was on the newly identified Samus as she piloted the flying machine, watching the escort ships tighten in formation around them. Something was...off.

And to confirm his suspicions, the hunter turned control over to Adam. Upgrades? She could auto-upgrade herself? What an interesting concept. His gaze caught his own cross bow on his wrist. That was an upgrade he supposed, though he had to build it and apply it to himself. However, Samus wasn't building, she looked to be immobile, focused inward.

That was when he remembered Omni's words. Omnilium. There was no intelligence he could draw on what it was aside from their host's own description. If it was truly capable of giving the holder what they wished then the lithe machine in front of him could potentially be creating her own upgrades through it. Which would mean Vitruvius himself could do the same.

If he could, then possibly he could help his captor with whatever plan she was formulating. It would be a great show of cooperation on his part if he were to assist her, hopefully lending to his credibility that he could be trusted. Robotic or not, trust was something in short supply to any being who's seen the world and how other creatures behave. He certainly wasn't as trusting and for a bounty hunter, he had no doubts she was far less willing to trust than he was. But if they were going to work together on this plan, if she was truly going to help him, then he felt it was necessary for him to assist her in whatever capacity he could. She was saving his life, to most humans that meant a life debt. Vitruvius had a similar notion.

“Samus,” He spoke up, his voice full of confidence despite not knowing exactly how he'd be helpful, “I can assist you. What's the plan?”

[Vitruvius]

Records were recalled to replay the speech by Omni. The Omnilium he was given was the source of power here, driven by desires and wishes. Did that mean some kind of mystical force or something that required actual imagination? Vitruvius couldn't define the line between the two given that his imagination was essentially a program that allowed him curiosity and wild speculation. His concern at the moment would be if the Omnilium Orb would actually react to his potential ideas. What were the differences between himself and the other machine standing across from him? Did she have something special that allowed her true creativity? Or was it as simple as creating blue prints of plans and letting the Orb do the rest?

If that were the case then what could he possibly plan out that would be of benefit in this situation? His mind raced through all the greatest inventions of his world. Every single one had some kind of military application and given his predicament, having his body hiding a highly volatile weapon, he determined it was best to avoid anything of that nature. That narrowed his search down to beneficial inventions. Shielding his collaborator would be a good plan if anything were to endanger her systems or ship. He would much rather allow himself to be used to protect others than to do harm. Given that he could defend himself as well as weed out potential threats that would bring death to the masses, he still found himself wanting the most non-lethal or least violent option.

His search concluded. He drew inspiration from one vastly uncredited inventor who sought to create free energy for the world. What good was he as a Renaissance Robot if he couldn't create things on his own?

Nikola Tesla harnessed alternating electrical currents, allowing energy to flow freely between grounded conductors. It could also wirelessly transmit its energy, but these are things Tesla couldn't finalize. Building off the principles, Vitruvius posited that if he played a conductor for electrical current, then he could potentially ground an ally and create a free flowing shield of energy around both of them. He didn't know how strong the shield would be until he tested it, but all simulations showed it would be enough to keep either of them from suffering any severe injuries.

Would a basic blue print such as that work with his Omnilium Orb? Or was he the exception given that he wasn't organic? Only one way to find out now.

[Samus Aran]

“Samus. I can assist you. What’s the plan?”

Samus registered the words only on some primal level, and discarded them as being of immaterial importance. What was the plan? What did it matter. Once they opened that hatch, things were going to being rapidly unravelling. This was it, all of the respect she had worked for and the prestige she’d gained in Coruscant, about to be discarded. Why? Because this was the Right Thing To Do.

But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She sighed, her stress-headache merely background noise at this point. Once she started shooting, it would go. Turning, she regarded the android. His body language was far too uncanny to be anything less than state of the art. He was hunched ever so slightly, not enough to make him seem odd but just enough to give the impression of submissiveness. She narrowed her eyes behind the glass veil of her visor. She didn’t need her scan visor to extrapolate certain particulars. This robot was far more intelligent than his bounty had revealed. That might be good, or it might be bad. All she could do for now was log that fact.

“We’re going to be escaping,” she said, “To the Vasty Deeps.”

The blue sensor in the center of the robot’s head, where its eye would be, widened and then returned to normal diameter. “I see,” he said.

“After we finish talking I’m going to change our course to the Gate. They’ll begin attacking us immediately. I’m going to go up to the deck to defend ourselves. Do you have ranged offensive capabilities?”

The android drew a finger across his mouth (a gesture Samus mentally added to her growing file on the android). After a moment, he slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t know. When I arrived here, I had no weapons, but … maybe …”

Samus nodded. “You’re a Prime. You can summon, just like I just did. I hate to force you into violence,” (a partial lie told just as naturally as the android imitated human body language) “But I think this is going to be hard. Real hard.”

The robot nodded. “Okay. I’ll try to summon something.”

Samus pressed a button on the side of the barrier-prison, releasing her captive. She reached down and snapped the cuffs. No time for subtlety. “Make it good. We might be immortal but I don’t want to get captured by the Empire. Do you?”

The android shook his head.

“No, neither do I,” said Samus. She nodded firmly and stepped backwards, turning in the tight space of the ship and leaning over the cockpit to view the outside world. Nothing was happening yet but she didn’t want to leave them on course for any longer than she had to. “Adam!” she barked.

“Yes, Samus.”

“Erase all the files on the ship. Get yourself ready to eject if need be. We won’t be able to take the ship through the gate.”

“Understood.”

Samus felt battle anger rising up through her and begin to course. Long ago, she’d been nervous before a battle. Sometimes she still was. But time and practice had a way of forcing adaptation. Now all she felt was something hot, and cold. A feeling that simply enveloped everything else, numbing her thoughts and feelings and narrowing her vision to what she saw through the visor. She turned to the robot, hiding her impatience. In a matter of minutes, they would be fighting the Empire.

[Samus Aran]

After several minutes, and what seemed like forever to the tense bounty hunter, the android opened his eyes and looked to Samus. She nodded. She’d waited long enough, and needed no more indication. Turning to the ship’s monitors, she growled:

“Do it!”

Even as she finished those words she was heading to the ship’s elevator, just to the starboard side of the ship’s centre. A platform of light materialised and began ascending, the ship’s hatch opening and revealing the sunset hunter to the fading orange light of Coruscant’s sun. Perhaps the last time she would ever see it.

She only had a second or two. She cast both hands downward and fired two grapple beams towards the ship’s roof, latching herself to it.

“INITIATE MISSILE STORM!” she screamed.

The spherical shoulder pads on Samus’s Varia suit had come to serve a new purpose in the Omniverse. They flipped open, revealing row after row of what looked, to the untrained eye, like tiny red dots. A message popped up on Samus’s HUD: “Pull trigger to initiate MISSILE STORM.”

She quickly scanned the skies and picked the most likely target. One of the ships followed behind, while the other two flanked them. One of them drifted a little closer. She turned to it and pulled the trigger.

There was no time to dodge. Mini missiles ejected themselves and streamed towards the unlucky ship, popping and exploding against the barrier, then snapping through its hull like a swarm of metal-eating piranhas. In a moment, it was down, spinning out of control into the ship’s skyline. Samus closed the hatches on her shoulder pads, turning and opening the wings on her arm cannon without even pausing to watch the destruction. She began firing on the next ship. Time for consideration later. Now she had to win.

[Vitruvius]

His data stream flooded every inch of his core with new code. He had spent these past few days fighting and trying to break through what all of it meant and holding it back until he could determine why he had dangerous weapons laced through his body. It had been disconcerting and like a man who found out he was some sleeper cell agent, he wasn't quick to embrace his new role. But they were in danger. His new ally needed his help. And try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to just come up with some offensive weapon. He could, but he didn't like the idea. He was built much tougher than biological entities, he was built stronger than they were. He was powerful enough to harm, why did he need more power?

And though it took him time to figure out how to become a weapon, he discovered all it really took was the thought of being captured and potentially destroyed. Time had forced Vitruvius' hand and Samus'. Her preparations had been ready and this whole time was spent waiting on the machine. A multi-tasking thought flashed through his consciousness, he wondered if that's how humans used to feel about computers as they processed information. Ready to go while all the infinite possibilities ran through a limited hard drive. He wasn't limited by anything aside from a sophisticated morality program. But as was becoming the leit motif since arriving in Omni's world, self preservation was a funny thing.

Through his system he felt a heat well up inside him. It was different than the discharge of flesh melting napalm that got him in this situation in the first place, it felt like a slow build up of energy rather than the chemically charged flames. His sensors began alerting him to ambient radiation building up...within him? Ah. So. He did have it within him after all. There was mild disappointment, but he quickly compartmentalized the blasphemy that was going against his intended purpose.

Vitruvius followed in Samus' footsteps, taking himself to the elevator. Had he been human, he would probably take note of a shaking body, nervous sweat pouring from a furrowed brow and the knotted up feeling deep in his stomach at what he was about to do. Of course the heroes of stories he read would, in contrast, have taken powerful strides, leapt at the chance to fight off the enemy and not thought twice about the lives they were about to take. After all, they were the bad guys and the hero was just that, the hero. Of course the hero had to win. All who stood in opposition of good was, by nature, evil. Vitruvius wasn't naïve, there was no black and white, everything fell in shades of gray and there was potential for good in all beings. Good people were going to die.

Within his chasis was an oscillation. A reverberating hum that quietly traveled all his hollow parts and bounced around in his mechanized skull. If he was reading the signs correctly (which unfortunately for him, he was), Vitruvius was gathering deep cosmic radiation. The background noise of the universe. The messy and chaotic energy that filled space in all its deep, dark corners and exploded from the light of the brightest stars. His body was converting it into a smaller compound called HZE Ions. HZE being made up of High Atomic Number(noted as Z) and Energy. What was being broken down inside him was the energy that eventually split off from supernovas and solar flares. Though instead of expanding greatly from stars trillions of light years away, allowed to bloom into harmless galactic cosmic rays, Vitruvius was going to hit a capacity in which his body was going to release it in a focused explosion.

The project had been one canceled by his government from where he came from. An Ion Cannon that was deemed too dangerous for human soldiers to wield due to the detrimental levels of radiation along with the fact that the intensity of super energetic particles that penetrate the body and are so dangerous that they'll strip everything down to the DNA molecules and eliminate cells completely. This is what he was now. A weapon.

And yet he calmly waited as the elevator brought him to the surface of the ship. Assessing the situation at hand, he took his place next to his ally as he began hitting a critical level of home grown heavy particle ionization, his sensors jumping erratically. Samus was focusing her cannon fire on another set of ships, the first ship he witnessed careening out of the skyline and into the city below. He owed this companion machine everything for assisting him. It was his debt to her that gave Vitruvius some solace as he zeroed in on the pursuing Empire craft. He wanted to swallow all this energy and let it dissipate into the atmosphere. He wanted to shoot it into the sky and make it a warning shot to scare them off. But humans were never scared off. They were just made more angry that something had greater power than them. A realistic list of possibilities hit him all at once. He and Samus being hunted down by these soldiers. The Empire doubling their efforts to get a hold of impossibly powerful weapons. His hesitation leading to their destruction. Immortal or no, death didn't seem like an experience Samus wanted to go through. Capture seemed worse by her calculation. These people needed to disappear. It would give them the head start they required if they were to be successful in this escape.

He ripped open the shirt beneath his cloak, revealing a chest plate vibrating with boiling hot radiation. Steam was rising as the twin pectoral casings split wide open, separating over his front deltoids to reveal a glowing concave core that wasn't part of his original design. His ribs, all sectioned individually and anatomically correct, down to six on one side and seven on the other, slid backwards. He felt them connect behind him as his core was reinforced, bracing for the oncoming explosion. The core was seeping with collected energy and he couldn't hold it back any longer.

He didn't have the biological instincts to flinch, wince or close his eyes from the heat or light. Which meant he watched with unfeeling blue eyes as a funnel of hazy purple and navy mixed in all variations of the two colors exploded from this unknown core. It extended from his body and ate away at the ships directly in its path. His memory perfectly stored the plates of the hull as they shredded, peeled and flew apart as they were rend from their ship. He watched glass melt. He watched micro explosions bloom into larger and larger furious flames. In the end it looked like he had skewered a pair of ships, the blast piercing from one end to the other. The cannon within his chest shuddered and quickly began draining of energy. The blast was quick and merciless despite the time it took to gather. He knew what had been coming. The remains of the ships never did. It was abrupt and painless.

In stories, the character would be drained. Powerless. Vulnerable. Trading his stamina and health for an ultimate attack. Allies would crowd the hero and praise him for saving everyone's lives. Instead Vitruvius stood there. His ribs disconnected and slid back into place. His chest covered over the core that had receded within his body and hid away under the internal organs of his machinery as though it never existed. His sensors alerted him that everything returned to normal. Everything was at optimum efficiency. By all standards he was operating as he should be. All systems go.

From beginning to end, Vitruvius recorded the strike down to watching the ships helplessly descend into Coruscant. Like all his millennia of memories, this would stick with him forever. Perfect. Instantly replayed as though he were experiencing in real time. Something he'll never forget.

[Harry Dresden]

Harry didn't like having to wait so long for a horse, but a car would've broken down in his current state of mind. While he summoned, he didn't have any choice but to watch the fireworks. Samus' ship was giving the Stormtroopers hell, despite their superior numbers. Kind of like a Jedi. The horse finally resolved itself into being, saddle and all, and Harry scooped up his speaking stone and flung himself into the saddle. The bay was an exact replica of the horse that had been his responsibility to care for, and his privilege to ride, on Ebenezar's farm in the Ozarks. He firmly, but kindly, nudged her into a gallop, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she went a lot faster than he had expected.

"Samus! It's Harry. I didn't find that thing that attacked you, but I'm on my way to the gate to the Green now. I'll see what I can do about the Stormtroopers." He raced through the streets, having to take a less direct route than the ship and soon enough running up against a military cordon, manned by three Stormtroopers who obviously weren't expecting to see action in an obscure alley just like all the other alleys.

"Halt! Identify yourself."

In retrospect, Harry could have handled this better, but he got results. He slid off the horse and marched right up to the cordon, exchanging his communication device for his blasting rod and gripping his staff tighter in his left hand. The temperature seemed to drop a couple degrees as he advanced, causing the stormtroopers to raise their rifles at him. "I am Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, the Winter Knight. One of my friends needs me, and so help me, this is a fight you won't win. It's also a fight I don't have time for, so get out of my way." The stormtroopers were highly trained, but they were Secondaries and this was a cramped alley with little in the way of cover besides some temporary structures. If they died, it was over. Their tactics reflected this as they stepped aside. Harry had no doubt that they'd be radioing ahead the second he left, but he swung himself back into the saddle and jumped the cordon, rushing even more than before.

The gate was, certainly enough, blocked off with a much larger force of Stormtroopers. The Knight's Mantle wanted what it always did; to tear, to rip, to kill. Harry had to remind himself that he wasn't allowed to kill with magic, unless it was self-defense. Of course, that didn't do much of anything for the large laser emplacements that were being set up. Harry dismounted his horse and led her behind a building before reemerging. The stormtroopers had taken notice of the wizard by then; he was pretty obvious. More rifles were pointed at him, and he called a shield in response. Samus's ship flew into view just over a nearby building, and the Empire troopers adjusted their large weapons' aim. Laser shots rebounded off a plane of shimmering force. He raised his voice high enough that his speaking stone would pick it up through his pocket. "Samus, there's about to be a fire blast. Don't shoot me."

The first volley of shots fired at Samus' ship before Harry could get the second spell together, going alongside his shield. He took a few laser shots in his leg and almost lost both spells, but it wasn't quite as bad as being shot with a gun. He raised his blasting rod, checking his aim to make sure there wasn't a stormtrooper in the direct line of fire. "Hey, Django ripoffs! You might want to stand back from those guns! "PYROFUEGO!"

The conflagration was impressive in scale, to say the least. As tall as a man and hot enough to burn blue and white, it melted the ends of the artillery like they were nothing, sending molten metal dripping down the guns. A couple Stormtroopers who had ignored him at the beginning hopped out of their places operating those guns really fast. He'd missed the main part of the guns on purpose, destroying just enough to render the oversized lasers inoperable. He ducked behind a building as the laser fire focused on him instead of Samus. "Samus, you've got a place to touch down here, if you do it fast enough."

[Samus Aran]

They were closing in on the gate. As they did so, lights converged across the city on their location.

“Adam, use everything! Burn out the ship’s thrusters if you have to!”

“Understood, lady. Already in process.”

Despite her gunship's outwardly impressive appearance, in truth it was like riding a paper boat out to sea. The only ones protecting the ship were them; Samus, Vitruvius, Adam. And Adam was driving the ship. They’d already used most of their ammunition escaping from their escorts.

A familiar voice buzzed through Samus’s comms system: “Samus, you've got a place to touch down here, if you do it fast enough.”

The Hunter scanned the area below them. She could see the gate, the roads of the city leading like stark ley lines towards it. Traffic was sparse, all but evacuated.

“Harry. You took out the guns?”

“Roger. You better get here fast, though.”

Samus looked over her shoulder at the real ships coming her way. “Yeah.”

“SAMUS!”

As digitally amplified as it was, it really sounded like the Judge was shouting at the top of his lungs. It was so loud that for a half-second the Hunter had actually believed he was close by; she’d rubbernecked despite herself, searching for the enemy. She saw only more lights on the horizon.

The Judge continued to speak. “Samus, you’ve had a lapse of judgement. I can’t believe you’re really willing to become enemies of the Empire. Think about what that means!” He stopped for a second, presumably to breathe. “If you have any sense left, stop now. Running is useless.”

Samus said nothing. Even if her voice would carry across the city, what would she have said? “Ignore it, Vitruvius. Stay focused.”

The next wave were faster. They must have been special ships of some kind, because the rest of the fleet submerged to allow them to pass. They effortlessly closed in. Samus fired off a volley of Gatling shots at the centre target and it moved vertically upwards, like a jump. She briefly caught a trail of blue. She cursed.

Meanwhile the other ships spread out and began to fire. Things exploded on the ship and Samus’s grapple beam barely held. She’d managed to snag Vitruvius’s arm in the crook of her right elbow and barely stopped him going overboard. “Adam!” she cried.

“We’re going down,” was all he said.

Samus shoved Vitruvius into the porthole like a piece of inventory before diving in herself against the hail of blue laser fire. Lights lit up her periphery; the ship was breaking apart around her.

“Harry, get through the gate. Now. We’re coming through.”

This is roughly the last memory Samus has of Coruscant.

[Harry Dresden]

Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden didn't have many options after his stunt. There were far too many stormtroopers between him and the gate to the Vasty Deep for him to blast through, even if he was willing to kill them all. Order 66 aside, these men were following orders, and nothing more. Then again, he didn't have to blast through them. The lasers, individually, were less potent than guns by a wide margin. There was only a short distance to run. He shook out his shield bracelet and formed his shield, turning his spell-woven duster's collar up and steeling himself. This was going to hurt.

The wizard mounted his horse and rode at high speed from his improvised shelter. He tried to catch as much laser fire as he could, but the size restriction on the shield was getting in the way. The Stormtroopers shot his horse and disabled her, sending Harry tumbling over the mare's nose. In a moment of panic, he tapped into the Winter power that Mab had given him.

It still hurt when he hit the ground, but nowhere near as much as it should have. He'd feel that later. The good news was that the Knight's Mantle knew it was outnumbered, if not outgunned, and seconded his instinct to flee. Harry rolled to his feet and held the shield behind him as he made a mad sprint for the portal, barreling through it with a wave of disorientation and more laser burns than he cared to count. This was just going to suck tomorrow, but better that then wind up in an Empire prison. He didn't want to know what that particular part of Star Wars looked like firsthand.