The Power and the Glory

Chapter 2

 "Red Five to Rebel Base. Do you copy, Rebel Base? Over."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Vivid. I've told you a hundred times: I'm not going to respond to that ridiculous call code. You're to use my codename, or my given name if you are completely incapable of constraining yourself to sensible operating procedure. Do I make myself clear?"

Sable's wicked chuckle crackled out from the speakers on the desk, echoing in the spacious room. "Ooh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the century. Come on! You were actually alive when that movie first came out— embrace your role as Ackbar and move on. We've got a Death Star to infiltrate."

To Miguel's chagrin, the other Sentries in the room echoed her amusement with equivalent gusto, each in their own particular way— Blindspot's lips quirked upwards in the briefest of smirks, Via threw back her head and laughed aloud, and Nightfall and Jackpot exchanged smirks. Even Ocarina chuckled quietly, her rich voice carrying forth from the speakers to resound in the room with uncanny clarity.

Cherry Bomb tilted her head to one side, sending scarlet hair cascading to one side. "You know," she ventured. "If you had allowed me to head this mission, you wouldn't need to put up with this sort of behavior. I would be more than happy to comply with the call codes. And you said that I could lead one more than a month ago."

He had been wondering when she would bring this issue up again. Marshaling his annoyance into something a decidedly unamused expression, he fixed her with a well-refined quelling stare. "Miss Sato, I am aware that you are remarkably talented for your age. However, for all of Vivid's...quirks, I will point out that she is a highly experienced operative who can quite literally smell danger from a mile away. In which way besides courtesy are you more qualified than she to lead a mission focusing on infiltration and stealth? Have we developed such a surplus of fire-breathing, redheaded, knife-wielding Japanese teenagers that one could easily be overlooked in the middle of a pharmaceutical company?"

Cherry Bomb's expression didn't change in the slightest. Miguel had spent enough time around her that her annoyance was clear nonetheless.

Vivid's voice rang out cheerfully over the speakers. "Aw, don't get so bent out of shape, Cherry. We all have our specialties. I infiltrate, act, sneak, detect, and otherwise run rings around SWAT teams. You set shit on fire. The important thing is to find your niche and embrace it— on your left, Red Two. Rebel Base, we have line of sight on the meridian trench. We're going in."

Miguel blinked at the speakers for a moment before giving Via an inquiring look. She gazed back at him innocently for a moment before relenting. "She means they've found Azazel's target, their way in. Probably some doctor who looks like they won't notice a missing ID. They're moving to intercept."

The speakers began to crackle as Vivid began her opening routine— a flurry of energetic greetings designed to captivate the attention and fluster the unprepared with the prodigious force of her attention. After a moment, Azazel's voice joined the conversation, the unassuming tones entirely innocuous and forgettable behind Vivid's bright chatter. The other Sentries went quiet out of reflex— they were well aware of their teammate's skill, but it was both rude and unwise to provide a background distraction while she went to work.

Miguel allowed himself the tiniest sliver of satisfaction. Things were well under way now— he could trust himself to relax just a bit. With all the voices flying about, he could afford to hear a few from within.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a count of seven. The tension slid from his shoulders and stance, and he welcomed the relief as the energy he had devoted to maintaining the shields around his mind became his once again. The second breath tasted sweeter than the first, and he felt warmth spread from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. His eyes fluttered closed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth despite his best efforts.