Quinn stared. Numb. Numb again. Numb with panic. Numb with fear.

But still again...[color=black]Quinnlash[/color] urged her on.

She was so tired. So, so tired. And she didn't want to plug back in, didn't want to feel those fierce ripping pains again. But...she had to. 

A beacon.

To light up the world around her. 

And keep everyone there safe.

So, eye still on the sword-wielding Modir—[i]god, she'd never fought a Modir before[/i]—she ran through the still-open skullport. Slammed the door. Flashes of white walls echoed around her. She gritted her teeth. Ignored them.

[i]Keep everyone there safe.[/i]

"[color=ffe63d]I'm plugging in.[/color]" A moment. "[color=ffe63d]Send Dahlia up, get her in [i]Dragon[/i]. I don't know if I—[/color]" She cut herself off. The exhaustion was still there in her voice, and now a desperate fear came with it. But it had [i]tightened[/i], tensed. She had to do this. She was the only one who could. But no, she knew. She remembered Hovvi. She wouldn't—

And then as she clambered into the chair, suddenly—unexpectedly—her chest filled with [i]joy[/i]. Unfiltered, unrefined, unwelcome. But there nonetheless. Because here, she didn't need to wait for the perfect shot. She didn't need to avoid shooting, taking care not to hit anything vital. She had no need to hold herself back, play on the defensive. 

Roaki wasn't a monster.

This was.

Quinnlash Loughvein reconnected.

It hurt. A lot. The pain [i]sliced[/i] back through her. But, tearing in sharp, ragged breaths, she fought through it and stood. Faced the Modir square on. Reached. Gripped. Pulled. The cannon dropped back into her hands. Everything was quiet, for just a moment. They looked at each other. Her heart quaked. No matter what she said...no matter what she'd told herself...she was so afraid. So horribly, horribly afraid. 

Then the cannon in her hands roared, and the flame seared forth. She began to circle around, limping, trying to draw the creature away from the camp as best she could. A sudden feeling of tranquility took over her as she prepared for another fight. One from which she was...[i]pretty[/i] sure she wasn't coming home.

"[color=ffe63d]Deelie, are you there? Can you hear me?[/color]"