The Stingray cruised through the nighttime sky just high enough to evade the sweeping beams of the spotlights below. Here and there, one of the beams would pierce the darkness just enough to reveal the ship's location, but with a quick tilt, it shot right past the wings and into the starry sky beyond. 

Aaron's hands gripped the control wheel and gently rotated it back and forth as his eyes scanned the airspace ahead of them. He cast a quick glance at Sila in the copilot's seat. "Switching to cold fuel now." 

Sila nodded its metal head. "Got it." 

Ace coughed from where he stood in the back of the cockpit, opening a metal cabinet and removing a pair of bundled parachutes. "What's cold fuel?" 

Aaron twisted his body to look back at the chamber behind him. Wendy and Khemera sat in the two back seats, both with folded arms. Brant and Ace stood against the back wall and removed the wrapping around the parachutes. 

"It's a special kind of fuel." Aaron finally answered, turning back around, "Keeps you from showing up on heat scans. Slightly less efficient, and only good for lower speeds, but excellent for what we're doing." 

Ace nodded. "I see." 

Aaron cleared his throat. "Sila, how're we doing on cloaking plasma?" 

"Two minutes' worth." 

The sandy-haired man gritted his teeth. "Oh boy. This is gonna be tight." 

"Haste is necessary." the robot declared. 

"Indeed." Aaron glanced back at Wendy, "We're coming up on the generator soon. I'll need you up in the shock tower." 

Without a word, Wendy rose to her feet and took a headset from Aaron's hand. Then she padded out the door. 

A smile lingered on Aaron's face as he watched the blonde leave. Then he focused his attention forward again. He steered clear of another spotlight beam before straightening the ship's course again. 

He tapped his headset. "Alright, mic check. Wendy, you hear me?" 

"Loud and bloody clear." her voice answered without a second's delay. 

Aaron chuckled. "Gotta fit that gore in there somewhere, don'tcha?" 

"Just focus, you nutter." 

"Right." He inhaled a deep breath and looked over at Sila. "Activate cloaking mode." 

"Countdown starts now." the robot said as it clicked a button on its control board. 

Aaron grinned as they flew right through an intersection of light beams without detection. His eyes darted across the rooftops below, searching for the boxy target. Then, with a nod, he twisted a knob in the middle of his wheel. He turned it 45 degrees clockwise. 

He clicked his headset again. "Alright, I'm tilted now. Fire when appropriate." 

"You got it." Wendy replied. 

Aaron watched through the looking glass as a sparking blue ball launched from somewhere behind. It arced through the air. He narrowed his eyes as the projectile missed the generator and instead touched down somewhere over the edge of the roof, likely in the grass below. 

"Girl, what even was that?" he asked. "That was about as accurate as—" 

"Calm down!" Wendy snapped on the other end, "It's not like we've even tested this! I really don't understand the bloody physics of this thing." 

Aaron took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and released it. "I'll swing around again. Just try to actually hit it this time." As he spun the wheel, he glanced at Sila. "How's the clock looking?" 

"1:25 remaining." 

Aaron bit his lip. "Pretty good, I guess." 

"Yes." 

After Aaron had completed his circle and tilted the ship again, he informed Wendy, and she fired another EMP blast. This one hit the mark perfectly. Aaron watched with wonder as every single light died away. The entire area became plunged in darkness. 

Aaron unbuckled his seatbelt and beckoned Sila over. "Take over the wheel and swing us about. I'm gonna let Ace and Brant out." 

The robot affirmed and moved to obey. 

With that, Aaron stepped out of the cockpit, made his way to a ladder and descended it. He found Brant and Ace standing outside the sliding door, just finished with fastening the parachutes to their bodies. After they'd finished, the two men turned to face him, and with more or less enthusiasm, they gave him a nod. 

"We're almost ready to make the drop." Aaron announced, "You're ready?" 

"Always." Ace replied. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." Brant said. 

Aaron sighed. "I wish I could come down with you, but, y'know, there're three posts to fill up here, and—" 

"I understand." Brant interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. "We can do this, Aaron." 

"You'd better. If anything happens to them...you don't wanna find out." 

Brant nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, Sila called out from the cockpit, announcing that they had reached the drop point. Aaron swiftly opened the door. A gust of wind rushed into his face before Brant and Ace leapt out. Aaron peered over the edge and watched as the pair of parachutes floated down to the rooftop below. He inhaled and shut the door, clambering back up the ladder to reclaim the pilot's chair. 

******************** 

Brant and Ace touched down on the rooftop of the palace, parachutes blanketing out behind them. They unclipped the buckles holding the devices in place and tossed them away. When footsteps hurried their way, they prepared for resistance. 

Brant's artificially enhanced eyesight pierced through the darkness and allowed him to make out the forms of two palace guards sprinting his way with loaded shotguns in their hands. Their heads darted to and fro as they struggled to spot the intruders. 

With a shrug, Brant dashed forward, grabbed each man by his neck, and smashed their skulls together. The men fell unconscious after only a weak groan each. 

Ace slipped a pair of light-enhancing lenses over his eyes. He spotted a single brute headed his way, armed with no weapon but his own bulging muscles. 

The brawny man swung a blind punch Ace's way. He ducked and dashed behind him. The silencing soles on the bottom of his boots rendered his footsteps completely inaudible. Ace leapt up behind the brute and snaked an arm around his neck. 

With a forward lunge, the brute hurled Ace off his back. The dark-skinned man widened his eyes and rolled sideways to avoid a heavy fist. His opponent grunted as his knuckles met the bumpy stone surface of the rooftop. 

Ace clambered atop a section of the roof elevated about three feet above its surroundings. From his perch, he watched the brute grope about below. The man held his wrist up to his face and tapped a boxy device mounted on it. He grunted as it only sizzled anew and gave him no results. 

Smirking to himself, Ace grabbed a flashlight and clicked the button. He shone the bright beam into his opponent's eyes. The blinded man stumbled away and ran his hands over his face. Ace unsheathed a knife and hurled it into his fleshy chest. Then he leapt down, landing with his boot on the handle. The blade slid deeper into his flesh with a juicy squish. 

Brant looked up from the six limp bodies lying at his feet to see Ace approaching. 

"Blasted wind took us off course." Ace grumbled, pointing at the generator, far off near the edge of the rooftop. "Now we have so much farther to go." 

Brant nodded. "Well, we'd best get moving, then." 

The two men dashed forward. They soon came to the edge of their current elevation. Before them waited a six foot drop to a lower section of the roof. Without pausing, they hurried forward and made the jump. 

Ace landed almost silently, while Brant dropped with a heavy thud. As if fulfilling an unspoken agreement, the men turned their backs to one another and faced off against the crowd of guards they had just disturbed, splitting the resistance forces in almost perfect halves. 

Brant elbowed his first opponent, sending him flying back into a pair of his comrades. The miniature 3D printers attached to his gloves produced a shield in one hand and a hefty battle axe in the other. Fingers of dust-like particles crept outward and formed the weapons, and once completed, Brant used them to good advantage. 

He decapitated three guards with one mighty swing of his axe. Then he held up his shield to block the blood from splashing into his eyes. When a man farther back blindly sputtered gunfire his way, he defended against the shots. He positioned the shield to deflect several of the bullets back at the guardsman's comrades. Finally, Brant dashed forward, and with the back of his axe's handle, he caved his opponent's teeth in. 

Meanwhile, Ace snatched his first opponent by the back of his head and smashed his face into the nearby stone wall. He scraped downward, drawing screams from the man and painting the jagged stone a vivid red. Ace glanced up just in time to notice a knife spinning through the air, aimed right at his head. He caught it handle first and hurled it back at its original owner. 

Ace scuttled through the darkness and smirked to himself as the guards continued flinging attacks at where they had last heard him. He slipped a stick of dynamite from a holder on his leg, and a lighter from his pocket. Then he strolled closer to the group and cleared his throat. 

"Need some light?" he asked, holding a flame to the end of the fuse. 

With a cough, he flung the explosive stick into their midst. In the twenty seconds he had until detonation, he leapt back into the fray and threw kicks and punches at his opponents. Even with the slight illumination the advancing spark provided, most of the men still found themselves lost as to where Ace had gone. 

A bony-faced guard with bulging eyes slipped a pistol from his holster. He fired it in the middle of Ace's chest. His brow furrowed when the dark-skinned man made no move to evade the projectile, and instead stood there with an arrogant posture. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened when the bullet made impact with his jacket, collapsed like an accordion, and bounced to the ground. 

"What, you never heard of Forbachean metal-woven fabric?" Ace mocked. He flung his remaining knife into the man's throat before leaping away from the impending explosion, only three seconds away. 

Blood splashed on the ground around Ace after a deafening explosion rang through the air. Stringy bits of flesh fell like rain around him, some so mangled he couldn't even guess what body part they had come from. He hurried over to Brant's half of the rooftop and frowned. He had already prevailed over all his opponents, without any explosives or guns. 

"You're too good at this." Ace remarked as they hurried onward. 

"You talk too much." Brant retorted. 

Ace shrugged. Then the two men geared up as they approached another wave of opposition.

******************** 

A/N: Oh my goodness, that was a great chapter, if I do say so myself. First, some nice technical looks into Aaron's world, and then some B.A. beatdowns by Brant and Ace! I hope they kept you thoroughly entertained. 

And if they did, please let me know, and leave a vote and some comments. I really appreciate it! 

Well, now that we've seen a bit, whose fighting style gets your blood pumping more, Brant or Ace? 

And for a random question: If you were going to have your consciousness completely transferred into a new body, but you got to keep just one feature/aspect of your current body, what would you keep? 

(I think for me, it'd be my face. I'm fairly proud of the physique I've achieved through exercise, but to be fair, I could just do that again. On the other hand, I don't think I could possibly bear with myself having a new face. So yeah.) 

Hope you have an awesome day! I'm off to binge on some Wattpad reading, so that'll be fun. Stay healthy, and I hope to see you soon in tomorrow's update! 😁