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Callie flowed through action, a being of agility, awareness and half-conscious thought.  Her instinct told her that a meteor of far greater mass was about to land directly atop her; she glanced up for a space where the sky was clear, formed a portal to the other side of the battlefield in an instant, dragged herself and Nil through and collapsed it before it could be a conduit for debris.  Her instinct told her that the woman who brought her out of unending unconsciousness was about to receive a spray of bullets; she manifested another portal, a lattice that rendered the barrel of Feng’s autopistol – seemingly the last survivor of her belt – into so many neat chunks, all of them falling away as the shieldbearer summoned the now-broken remains to her hand. 

Callie’s conscious thought was thus free to consider the implications of the Crown Prince’s yell and Henri’s subsequent charge.

[color=f7941d][i]She has Evasion.[/i][/color]  Noel’s power turned against them…  Granted, whether Feng could use it effectively was another matter; amongst the myriad effects that Obsidian and its allies had brought to bear was clearly [i]something[/i] done to her mind, the woman screaming in a previously unseen battle-fury and bearing down on a Cristina doing all in her power to avoid her strikes.

Still, to count on that alone would be folly.  If Feng was off guard, she needed to be [i]caught[/i] like that.

[color=f7941d][i]Thank God she gave us the chance to grab our gear.[/i]  “Sergeant, prepare to accelerate to target,”[/color] Callie intoned through [i]another[/i] portal between her mouth and Henri’s ear, nowhere near knowledgeable enough about the equipment or the circumstances to know whether radio communicators would work in this strange dimension.  Even as she did so, she broke Charter from her rifle, letting the firearm drop to the floor as gently as she could manage in her current haste, and with her other hand reached into a pouch to withdraw something she hadn’t had cause to use since she’d joined Obsidian: one of a set of small, common board darts.

Her mind, bestowed talent honed by intense training, conditioning and practice, processed it all in a flash: the precise dimensions of the portal needed to accommodate Henri’s running form safely without being overconservative and sacrificing energy; the action of Henri’s strides, to time that portal’s passage without tripping him; and, as she raised her dart and summoned the portal with one end bound to said dart’s location, the angle and speed of the dart to ensure that portal reached him at just the right moment.

And, Charter guiding her hand, she knew that the dart would match that angle and speed.

From Feng’s point of view, if she could see past Cristina and the storm in her own mind, nothing stood between her and the soldier rushing her, [i]aspis[/i] borne before him.  One portal backing onto the other, interposed between her and Henri and directly perpendicular to her position, in no way interfered with what she could see – or what Henri could see, for that matter.  Then Callie threw the dart, and the end of the portal closer to Henri, anchored relative to that dart, [i]launched[/i] towards him – while from Feng’s perspective, Henri and everything behind him suddenly gained a burst of horizontal speed.

The moving end of the portal reached Henri carrying the speed of the dart.  Momentum conserved, Henri shot from the stationary portal it was joined to, carrying all the same speed in the other direction – towards Feng.

(And somewhere about Callie’s soul, an adamantine nothing uncurled its grasp.)