There's no time to respond, not when Murta lifts her hand again, leveling the plasma gun at Didi's chest, her other holding the controller to the shackles keeping Didi from acting. Or so the Underlord thinks. It's nice being underestimated when it counts the most.

Didi thumbs the wire she ran to her wrist, triggering her boots and whispering the barest hint of a prayer to her own cleverness in the very instant the soles of her feet light up with heat. Such a hit of warmth has ...