"We're taking fire!" Emilly yelled. She watched another thick beam seemingly cut through the cabin, sizzle through the control panel, and depart. She couldn't see any obvious damage but the ship careened to the side.
"Em, your tag!" the Duke said.
"Tag?" Em asked in confusion. A bolt seared through the glass and hit her chest, moving through her with an unsettling sliding sensation.
"Change your tag!" the Duke yelled, ducking. The ship tilted again. Emilly was still trying to figure out what had happened with the bolt that hit her.
"EM! Change your--"
She didn't hear the rest of what he said as another bolt slid through her. Longer, thicker, and she felt herself burning, flashing back to being forced to her knees in the tower room. And she didn't have air. She couldn't find the air.
She scrabbled at the arms of the co-pilot's chair, eyes darting around for anything that might help her, only to feel the arm of the chair snap in half. Her fingers closed convulsively around a cylinder. She lifted it in one shaking hand, staring at it. She didn't recognize the character. The Duke looked over.
"Inject that!" he yelled.
She looked over, blinking. He made a tapping motion with one paw, and she looked at the cylinder again. She curved her thumb around the base and pressed the other end against her chest. Still confused that there were no marks on her shirt. She tapped the base and felt a rush of cool, slick...gel??...cover her skin, and with a painful shiver, the skin drew together as the gel seemed to solidify and harden.
The cabin filled with beams of light, miraculously none touching her.
"Em! For the love of--"
Right, she thought. Tag. She changed it, movements still slow, and just like that--the Babalon's turret guns shut down, and spun back to face the nose of the ship.
"Well," she whispered. "That was exciting."
Hiro turned to her, grinning. "That was cool!"
(Continued in part LXXXII.)
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