LOG-013.

  "We're nearly there, just past this door!"

  The shaking had gotten worse the further we went, and I'd had to catch Sixteen A a fair few times in order to keep the Gem from falling over from all the constant fucking rumbling.

  Craning my neck in order to peek past the visibly sparking doorway (convenient that it wasn't shut down, otherwise I might have needed to spend who knew how long trying to get the damned thing to open up) in front of me, I peeked inside the hangar bay.

  The entire place was quiet, seemingly utterly empty of the standard complement of Gems that would be running around both before and during deployment of the Retaliator's small attack wing.

  To my pleasant surprise and mild wariness, the sight of several ships greeted me. Three starfighters out of the full complement were still inside and a secondary shuttle sat parked alongside my Emerald's personal transport.

  "...Stay close. Might be trouble ahead."

  Grabbing a hold of my fellow Pearl's hand and silently tugging the visibly spooked Gem along, I began to make my way towards the closest fighter. Though the transports might have been a better choice, I just wasn't confident enough in my ability to fly the things, not without watching the Rutiles go through at least a couple dozen simulations beforehand.

  It was just as we were making our way around the rear end of the craft that the sound of footsteps made themselves known.

  "Hey now...not so fast there."

  My entire lightform tensed as a golden figure appeared from around the cockpit. A Citrine.

  Sixteen A heaved a sigh of relief, making to step forward.

  "Oh, thank the Stars you're here! We've been running around for the past-"

  Only to promptly bump into my outstretched arm, turning to stare at me in confusion.

  My face was carefully neutral, even as I locked eyes with the Gem across from us, noting her very much irregular uniform.

  Alongside the fact that there was a small pile of discarded limb enhancers neatly swept next to one of the storage crates, obscuring whatever might lay behind them.

  "She's...not one of ours, A."

  Bewilderment morphed into horror as the Pearl abruptly realised that out of the four total Citrines assigned to the Retaliator, none of them had their gemstone located at the base of their chin.

  The rogue soldier rubbed the back of her head almost bashfully, even as she began to walk towards us.

  "Well, that's unfortunate."

  I began to slowly backpedal, my fists clenching and unclenching as the hulking warrior tilted her head ever so slightly.

  "Say...you're Pearls, right? I've read about you in the record hall!"

  Her hand went up, and in a yellow flash, came right back down with some kind of mace in its grip.

  "You're apparently servants, not made for fighting so...I'll give you a chance."

  Her other hand moved forward, making a 'come here' gesture.

  ...Oh fuck right off.

  "If you surrender quietly, I can promise you fair treatment. Won't have to smack you around like those whiny green Peridots or the pilots either. Deal?"

  Glancing at Sixteen A out of the corner of my eye, I did what I did (what I had always done) best.

  I lied.

  A shaky little smile emerged on my face as I finally stopped.

  "Y-you promise?"

  Perfect.

  Slowly, a smile of her own made an appearance, even as the Citrine lowered her weapon while I began to take visibly hesitant, shy steps forward, my hands coming forward to wring against each other. It was a vulnerable pose, emphasizing just how meek and small I was compared to the massive yellow Gem.

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  Type eighteen, pattern one, to be specific.

  "Of course. I'll contact someone to come pick you up and then-ARGH!"

  My smile remained fixed in place, even as I quickly slid beneath the soldier's wild counter swing, the tip of one of my claws leaving a long line of distorted lightform in its wake.

  She was already moving to face me, steadfastly ignoring the cut across her face.

  Unfortunately for her, I wasn't finished quite yet.

  In a weird way, it was almost like a performance. Similar to when I had danced around the Jaspers during our 'sparring' sessions. The only difference now was that I'd occasionally lean forward and let the bladed fingers of my gauntlets scrape against my opponent's body.

  That small, ever so loud part of me sang each time I managed to get another nick on her lightform, prompting me ever forward.

  "Sneaky little-ow!"

  I flipped over her low sweeping kick (slow, outright sloppy even), planting a foot against her outstretched knee (graceless) and using the momentum to scramble my way atop her heavy frame. A second hop moved me from one shoulder to the other, avoiding the grasping hand (uncoordinated) that likely would have popped my form if it had managed to get a solid hold of me.

  The feeling of a second gauntlet phasing into existence over my other limb almost went entirely unnoticed as I brought both hands down upon the areas in between the Citrine's shoulders and neck.

  Stab.

  "AAAH!"

  Ten digits slid into her form. She stumbled in pain.

  I pulled them out, then brought the sharp instruments right back down again, doing my best to ignore the nausea inducing sight of the countless holes I was leaving in her lightform.

  In. Out.

  A second stumble, the Citrine falling to a knee, weakly grasping for me as I wrapped my skinny legs around her thick neck, cementing my new perch.

  In. Out.

  A clatter, as her summoned weapon fell out of a shaking hand, the mace rolling across the floor before coming to a decidedly final stop.

  In. Out.

  A crash, followed by a deep, painful sounding groan, muffled as it was thanks to her face practically kissing the panelling below it.

  I desperately repeated the motion at least a dozen more times before her form finally began to break apart beneath me, my knees slamming into the ground as a gemstone clinked a foot or so in front of me.

  Heaving an unnecessary breath, I finally let myself slump to the floor as my body began to shake.

  "V-viridian!"

  Footsteps pattered to a stop next to me, drawing my eyes to a pair of red dancing shoes. Said shoes were replaced by bright eyes filled with tears as the crimson Gem slowly pulled me up.

  "Stop...crying. We do that in the closet, remember...?"

  For whatever reason, the words drew a near hysterical laugh from the Pearl, one that I eventually started to mirror.

  Then we both flinched as the gemstone next to us began to emit light, rising up into the air before I lurched forward and cupped my hands around it, bubbling the fucking thing as quickly as I could.

  Staring at the newly formed sphere, I licked my lips before promptly shunting it into my gemstone.

  Why was I carrying them around? I couldn't rightly say, but considering I'd been the one to poof them it was probably a better idea than leaving them sitting around to reform and try to hunt me down in return.

  "H-how did you do that?"

  Glancing away from my bellybutton rock, I turned back to Sixteen A.

  "What?"

  The red Pearl spluttered, before wildly gesturing to the floor, then my gemstone, and finally to the weapons still attached to my hands.

  "That! Stars, you just beat up a Citrine!"

  Blinking, I let that sentence register for a moment.

  ...Holy shit. I had just beat up a Citrine!

  What the fuck!?

  My internal shock and mild celebration faltered at my Batchmate's insistent stare, before I finally chose to hold up the gauntlets, waggling my taloned fingers slightly for emphasis.

  "I pretended I was dancing and...tried to get the pointy ends to go in?"

  Wincing at the Gem's incredibly dry look, I waved her off and let my weapons dissipate before turning back towards my ticket out of here.

  "Listen, just-"

  An alarm blared, and I flinched violently as my Emerald's voice roared over the intercom system.

  "ALL HANDS, PREPARE FOR EMERGENCY WARP JUMP! BRACE FOR VIOLENT TRANSITION!"

  My eyes widened drastically and not a second later I was clambering up the starfighter's open cockpit as quickly as I fucking could.

  I moved to activate the controls, only for a pair of red hands to grab at my own.

  "What are you doing!? We're about to be safe!"

  Snarling, I slapped Sixteen A's hands away, drawing a shocked gasp from the Pearl as I reached forward, slamming my own hands into the navigational inputs attached to the dashboard of the cockpit.

  "We were never safe! And I'm done pretending we were!"

  "B-but-"

  Whirling around to glare at her and doing my level best to ignore the twin wet streams pouring out of my eyes, I sat down as the craft's reactor thrummed to life, lights flashing on all around me.

  "But nothing! We weren't safe at the Reef! We weren't safe in the Retaliator and we'll never be safe so long as we're a pair of glitching Pearls in the Gem Empire!"

  A hideous feeling sob racked through my frame, even as the starfighter steadily began to rise into the air. The hangar doors were already open, thankfully, so all I needed to do was pilot my way out of the atmospheric barrier.

  "I'm leaving A! So just get off of me!"

  Twisting back around to glare out the front viewing screen, I wrenched the controls forward, ignoring the soft hiss of the cockpit closing and locking into place around me.

  "...I'm leaving too."

  The quiet voice prompted yet another flinch from me, even as I felt a thin body carefully squeeze itself into the small space behind my seat.

  "F-fine. Good."

  Then we were moving, the interior of the hangar steadily being traded out for the eternal void that was outer space. For just a moment, the light of the Warp began to bleed in around us and I screamed internally at the thought of being pulled alongside the cruiser just behind us as it transitioned into FTL.

  But that didn't happen. Instead, our stolen starfighter shook as I watched (through one of the rear visual sensors) the warship get wrenched into the Warp, leaving behind a far smaller grey vessel that began to spin in place as its sole anchor was lost.

  A persistent beeping drew my attention to the console in front of me, and I watched as several gigantic signatures (relative to my own ride's size) began to approach.

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Okay, where did I go, what now?

  "What now, what now, what now?"

  My soft, panicked murmuring went quiet as a red hand moved past my head, pointing to the side.

  I stared at the distant figure of the dead planet, and finally nodded.

  With a shift of my hands, still firmly embedded within the fighter's controls, we began to move forward.

  It still wasn't quite a plan, but a destination was far better than nothing.