16. Legend

“So, the only problem,” Niko said, “is that this suit is loud as hell.” He looked with trepidation at the external ventilation entrance. Elliott—like Niko—was safely hidden away by their ORA stealth cloak, but Niko could feel the other man’s stare boring through him.

Niko shrugged. “Hey, sneaking around isn’t usually my style.”

“I know,” Elliott said. “You’re very loud. And present.”

“It’s never been a problem until now.”

“Well, we’ll just have to be careful. Move slowly through here and try not to knock against the sides.”

Easier said than done.

Elliott had cut a hole big enough for them to slip through its grate with what looked like a small, ultra-heated laser of some kind. It was another of his many homemade inventions that Niko found grudgingly convenient.

Once they were inside,Niko did his best to maneuver through the vast, corrugated metal pipe that formed the ventilation shaft into the back of Egleesa’s Civic Community Center. His metal boots knocked hard against the floor beneath him with each careful step though, the clank, clank echoing around the tunnel like a hammer on steroids. Elliott stopped walking, a fact Niko only discovered when he slammed straight into the back of him and nearly knocked them both on their asses.

“Niko,”Elliott hissed. “Are you even trying?”

“You try walking in this fucking thing. And tell me when you’re going to just stop like that, because I can’t see you.”

“You should have worn slippers instead of those boots.”

“The neurotech doesn’t work without the boots attached.”

“Then we should have taped cloth to your boots before we did this.”

“It’s not that loud,” Niko insisted.

“It’s that loud.”

They made it—somehow—to the great fan at the center of the tunnel. It was huge, so large it rotated slowly enough to leave brief second-long gaps between the sweep of each blade.

Niko would have preferred a much more direct approach—blocking the fan, disabling it with an EMP. But Elliott insisted even a brief interruption of it would trigger a notification to whomever was tasked with manning the quiet background systems of the building—a risk they couldn’t afford.

So they, instead, would have to rely on timing and swiftness.

Niko groaned.

Elliott went first, helping himself. Niko saw his outline pause before the gargantuan metal blades, then slip through the brief gap with ease. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders sagging in relief that he wasn’t about to witness Elliott end up as long division.

Then they tensed all over again when he realized it was his turn.

“Niko. Come on,” Elliott whispered.

Niko hesitated. The suit might save him from the massive pressure of what must be at least a ton of sharp-edged metal. But it wouldn’t be pretty.

The more he thought about it, the worse it was. So, he did what he did best, and stopped thinking. Niko watched the fan blades and the moment the next gap came around, he swiftly leapt through.

And lived.

When they reached the decorative interior balcony that circled above the event stages, Niko’s heart sank. This was time for the part of the plan he liked least of all. It had been one thing to discuss it in theory; it was a whole other experience to be about to follow it through in-person.

“I’m going to make my way down and start planting the EMPs,” Elliott murmured. Niko’s heart panged at the idea. He found he very much disliked letting Elliott go off on his own now, where Niko couldn’t help him if anything went south.

He swallowed the stubborn displeasure and unease that were tying a knot inside him. “Where’s your hand?”

“Right here.”

“Where’s ‘right here?’”

A moment later, he felt Elliott’s hand gracelessly knock against his armor as he grasped through the air for Niko.

We might need to work out the kinks in this stealth thing.

“Here,” Niko said, and handed over the EMP grenades. “Elliott—”

“Yes, Niko?”

“I know Galapol, and I know they’re going to go all out on this. So just… be careful. Don’t take any risks you don’t need to, and get back here quickly. I can’t help you when we’re that far apart.”

Niko almost didn’t feel it beneath the armor, but a hand grasped around at his waist, awkward and searching, before landing home. Elliott’s arm snaked around him.

“I’ll be back in no time,” he said.

And then he was gone. It was almost difficult to tell, since Niko couldn’t see him. But he felt Elliott’s absence, like a dull ache. He felt the loss of his arm around him, even if it had only come as a vague sensation of pressure through the suit.

Niko waited, casting his gaze at the sea of people below. Security drones hovered around the vicinity, one sweeping so close to Niko that he had to lean back to avoid it grazing his face. The thing paid him no mind, though, continuing to hover on to somewhere else. Niko briefly missed T1-N4 and the way she’d perpetually floated through his apartment, not so differently from these drones.

“Place is crawling with Galapol,”Elliott whispered through Niko’s earpiece. “You called it.”

“Be careful,” Niko murmured. Unease wormed through his body as he looked down at the mingling, watchful crowd below. It was swarmed with Galapol agents. Niko imagined Zann out there somewhere, bitter and betrayed, looking for Niko the way Niko had spent the last months looking for Elliott. It made his throat tighten.

“Moving to east wing to plant the EMP,”Elliott said over their frequency.

“Just— Be careful, Elliott,” Niko said. He was repeating himself now, going in circles from anxiety. His chest and limbs were tight. The idea of Elliott being discovered was unbearable to him. Niko had to restrain himself from breaking from their plan and making his way to the other man. He wanted to shield him from any harm that might come his way. Instead, he was useless, stuck here. Niko exhaled slowly, trying to settle the electric sea of roiling nerves within him.

Elliott was an expert in subterfuge and stealth. How many times had he outwitted Galapol—and Niko—at these events before? Yet Niko was antsy, ridiculous. Wanting to hide him away, protect him.

He couldn’t help it. Elliott was profoundly capable, but if Niko had his way, he’d take over and do the rest of the missions himself while Elliott stayed back at the facility, if it meant knowing the other man was out of harm’s way.

He figured admitting that out loud wouldn’t earn him Elliott’s high opinion, though.

He had to trust in Elliott’s capability. Niko was used to doing things himself, taking on the danger, the pain. It was agony to stand back and let Elliott work solo, out there slipping in and out between the crevices among a sea of hypervigilant Galapol and undoubtedly twice as many bounty hunters.

Niko looked out at the panels going on, among the center of swirling activity. Yuuorta was due to speak soon. Politicians, ambassadors, and activists mingled together on stage to discuss policy.

He had become all too used to these sorts of big events lately. But this was the first time he was here with Elliott, on the other side of things. This time, he was working with the very man that he’d been hunting. And the man—Ambassador Yuuorta—who he would typically protect was now the hunted.

Context made a hell of a difference, it seemed.

Now, if they could just get everyone else to see the same context Niko had been given.

“Elliott?” Niko murmured. Another drone floated right past him and he found himself going stiff, holding his breath, but just like the first, it paid him no attention. Neither did the crowds below, nor the scattering of Galapol agents whose wary gazes swept the very balcony on which he stood. He was, truly, invisible before a crowd of thousands. This wasn’t how he normally worked, but Niko would make the best of it.

“Here. Moving to the north wing for the second plant.”

Another two agonizing moments of silence passed before Elliott’s voice filled his ears again. “Moving back to you now. ETA five minutes, if nothing comes up.”

If nothing comes up.The words were so innocuous, but they made Niko’s skin crawl at the implications. Anything could happen now. He wondered if Elliott was feeling the same nervousness, the same adrenaline-driven tension he felt. If the other man was, he did a phenomenal job of not showing it. His calm demeanor was somehow both reassuring and infuriating.

Niko checked the time, squinting hard as he held his wrist display almost up against his eyeballs. Pale numbers barely showed through his stealth, indicating three minutes had passed.

Then four.

Five.

Six.

“Elliott?”

Seven minutes.

Niko had never been great at waiting around, at simply anticipating results. Patience wasn’t his personal virtue. He debated again trying to intercept Elliott. Below, Yuuorta was already maneuvering onto the stage to wide applause. Elliott was nowhere in sight, his end of the line dead. Niko’s pulse began hammering.

“Ell—”

“Behind you.”

Niko spun, gun raised reflexively. The slender outline of Elliott stood behind him, subtly distorting the scenery. Niko hadn’t even heard him approach. He let out a long breath as he lowered the rifle again.

“Do not fucking do that again unless you really want to be shot.”

He heard the smile in Elliott’s voice. “You haven’t managed to do it yet. Even when it was intentional.”

“Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way. What took you? It’s been almost eight minutes.”

“It’s hot right now. I had to take the long way around. And I couldn’t respond because I had to keep quiet.”

“Had me worried,” Niko murmured.

Elliott was quiet for a moment before speaking. His tone was lighter, a tinge warmer. Fond, even. “I know what I’m doing, Niko. This isn’t my first time.”

It was Niko’s, though. He knew he should relinquish his possessive, protective anxieties. He knew that Elliott had done this countless times now. Niko had been his biggest challenge before. But he couldn’t help it—the idea of Elliott being hurt drove him senseless.

“He’s on stage now,” Niko said, craning his neck to look down at Yuuorta. The man was so pompous and arrogant, with what were clearly tentacle implants and filler. He had a particularly slimy smile that Niko hated. Image after image of Yuuorta’s violations and hedonistic escapades at the cost of others filled his mind as he stared at that smile. He wanted to wipe it off the ambassador’s face.

Elliott moved to Niko’s side, peering down at Yuuorta in quiet contemplation. “Disgusting creature, isn’t he? You watched the videos, didn’t you?”

Niko wished he hadn’t. The things he saw there stuck with him in the quiet moments between distractions. He figured they probably always would, to some extent. Everything in Elliott’s files was darkly and maliciously haunted. “Yeah, I saw them all.”

“Well, let’s not keep him waiting,” Elliott said after a moment. He picked up the sniper rifle and switched off the safety, which Niko caught in glimpses of distorted surroundings and through sounds.

“Hey,” Niko said. “No matter what happens from here on out, I have your back now.”

“Niko.” It was there again, that wash of warmth in his voice. “Did you ever stop to think I have yours too?”

“I know, babe.”

Below, another round of applause erupted as Yuuorta began talking, tentacles wrapped partially around the podium. He cracked an icebreaker joke that made Niko want to punch him in those over-plumped tentacles.

Niko thought all of it would feel different. It was strange, of course, to be on the other side of things now, with Galapol as his enemy. But in many ways, he was only doing exactly what he’d always done. Yuuorta was a monster and, together with Elliott, Niko was cleaning the galaxy of him. They were stopping him from being able to hurt and torment and kill behind closed doors ever again. They were protecting the vulnerable, taking up the mantle that Galapol had let slip. He thought he would feel more guilt, more uncertainty.

But he didn’t. Just like with Giannis Alexopoulos.

And it felt, in many ways, great to be here, at Elliott’s side. It was an honor to be so trusted by him, and let into his world. The man so many—including himself, once—perceived as coldly evil was giving all that he had to bring a desperate justice and end to what the proper channels and authorities had failed to. Niko couldn’t fault him for it. Even Galapol, the galaxy’s established protectors, created by a banding together of every known sentient species working for a better society for all, had chosen to turn away from this.

So, Elliott and Niko were taking it into their own hands.

“Will you do the honors, lover?” Elliott asked. It took a moment for Niko to realize he was holding out the small kill switch that would activate all his painstakingly placed EMPs. Niko had watched him work on the device, carefully threading a wire through the pins on each grenade that would be triggered to pull them free at the flip of a switch. It was like dark magic woven in an esoteric language of machine parts, wires, and delicate computer chips—fascinating to Niko, but ultimately confounding.

He took it carefully.

“Gladly.”

Niko could see his shape move into a crouch as he cradled the sniper rifle against his shoulder and lined up his shot. It was fascinating to be here, to see him work his art. His form went so still that Niko couldn’t see him at all anymore; he heard a slow, calm, exhalation of breath. He found himself holding his breath along with Elliott.

A single shot fired. It was quick, the sound thundering through the building. Yuuorta stood for a moment at the podium, clinging to it with his plump tentacles. Then he simply slid down it, knocking it clear over as he fell against it. He lay there on the floor, dead, teal blood pooling beneath him. It was beautifully, perfectly done. The shot was so clean that it was merciful in comparison to the sorts of violence Yuuorta had enacted on his victims before they succumbed.

He would never hurt anyone again.

The crowd below began to freeze, then frenzy in panic as Niko had become used to seeing. He flipped the switch and the planted EMPs erupted at once, their shockwaves knocking the power out as the building sank into only the dim emergency light of backup generators. None had been close enough to affect his suit, thankfully. He could hear the confusion and fear from the audience below, his only regret in this. Niko wished he could show them why they were doing this, why they had resorted to these measures. He wished he could explain that civilians were in no danger from himself nor Elliott.

Elliott was already up. “Let’s go.”

Niko wasted no time. They grabbed their things and left. Niko kept close to him, trying not to accidentally step on the backs of the other man’s feet. It was hard to tell exactly where Elliott was, given the cloaking.

They swiftly made their way back through the ventilation tunnel, their route quick and easy now that the fans had been shut down in the loss of power. Thirty more yards and they would be out.

The tunnel shook around them, rocked by an explosion that burst bright and loud right up against Elliott’s energy shield. Niko grabbed for him instinctively and held him tight to himself. The impact was enough to knock them out of stealth though, and he could see the shield glitching as it faltered.

“Fuck,”Elliott hissed. He looked nervous and annoyed, scowling down the tunnel at four silhouetted figures who now stood blocking the exit. “Not again.”

Those words made Niko do a double take, but he didn’t have the time to pause. He trained his gun on them.

“Get behind me,” he commanded, pulling Elliott back before the man had a chance to protest. Only a second later, bullets ricocheted down the tunnel their way, pinging and scattering in every direction. Niko crouched and held his arm over his face to shield it. He could feel the bullets as they hit his wrist, chest, and legs. He could feel Elliott behind him, making himself compact as he pressed up tight against Niko’s back. Another explosion rocked the tunnel, falling just short of them this time.

He had a feeling this wasn’t Galapol, nor security. The sloppy nature, combined with the careless use of explosives suggested other hunters. But Galapol would be there soon enough—the explosions were sure to draw attention.

Niko hated doing it, but they had no choice. He had to get Elliott out of there or they would be swarmed. They’d bought themselves precious minutes with the EMPs and confusion they sowed, but the hunters were going to stall them.

The second their bullets stopped and they were forced to reload, Niko seized the moment and opened fire. Elliott lined up a shot over Niko’s shoulder, and he saw one of their silhouettes fall.

Another explosion made the tunnel shudder, this time too close. Niko could feel the scorching heat against his skin, the roaring sound of it leaving an intense, whining ring in his ears. He had to close the distance or the next was going to hit.

“We’re going to do something a little crazy, Elliott,” he said. “On the count of three, we’re going to rush them.”

“Wait— I’m sorry, rush? As in, towards them?”

“You got it.”

“Niko, I don’t think—”

“Three. Two. One. Go!”

Niko sprang up and burst into a run, hard and fast as he could. It was exhilarating, despite the insanity of it. For a moment he felt weightless, boundless, like he was a high school boy playing football again. He could hear Elliott’s footfalls behind him as the man kept close. At least he hadn’t abandoned Niko to his crazy act alone. Elliott was, it seemed, truly ride or die.

Niko appreciated that.

They never expected it when he charged. Almost every time. He could see the shock on the man’s face—a particularly short and haggard Dvaab, covered in faded tattoos—as Niko came barreling down the tunnel towards him, and he scrambled to shoot Niko. The bullets pinged off his armor uselessly.

“Oh sh—”

Niko body-slammed him to the ground, then knocked the guy clean out as he grabbed him by the neck and gave him a good secondary knock against the floor.

“Beastly,” he heard Elliott marvel. “But effective.”

Niko was up again instantly, crashing into the other nearest hunter as he threw his armored weight fully into her. The human woman pulled a knife which she tried to drive desperately towards his face. He overpowered her instantly, wrenching her arm back and knocking her out too with a solid thunk against the curved tunnel wall.

Elliott took aim for the remaining hunter, his bullet ricocheting uselessly off the man’s armor. Niko looked towards the hunter, ready to destroy him, and paused, blinking.

“Wh— Legend? The Legend?”

“What?” Elliott said.

The old man—human, in an armored suit of his own, his front teeth missing and with tattoos all along the right side of his olive-toned face—wheezed a laugh. “The very one and only. Now, if it ain’t Killjoy. Been a while, kiddo.”

“You know this man?” Elliott mumbled.

“I—” Niko paused, a temporary truce between them. “You retired. You’ve been retired for years.”

The Legend chuckled. “I heard you was retired too. A special somebody brought me back.” He gestured towards Elliott with the barrel of his gun.

Niko frowned. “Uh, yeah, me too.”

“His bounty was worth dippin’ my toes back in for. ‘Sides, I missed it. No good sittin’ around, just twiddlin’ my thumbs.”

Niko winced. The Legend was, well, a legendary hunter who’d brought in more bounties than any other in recorded history. Niko had met him several times before, had even shared drinks with him in an old and shady black market bar as the man traded stories until they were both too drunk to stand. He’d even gotten some pointers from him, when he was green and new to hunting.

He didn’t have the heart to hurt—or kill—the guy. “I don’t want to do this,” Niko said slowly.

“I do,” said Elliott. “We need to go.”

“You know how this goes. Business is business, kid. Ain’t nothin’ personal,” the Legend said.

Niko knew that. But he hated it. There was no way around it—old bounty hunters like the Legend were full of pride and honor. He couldn’t be talked down, and offering an alternative or consolation prize to that glorious bounty would only bring insult.

The alternative meant having to kick an old man’s ass.

Elliott was clearly growing exasperated. “Can you just… run at him? Do your thing?”

Niko suppressed a groan. The Legend was ancient by now. This would be like giving someone’s great-grandpa a full-on linebacker tackle. But Elliott was right. They were running out of time, and needed to move.

Their brief truce was over, the Legend opening fire on Elliott. Niko was in his way instantly, soaking up the hits with his armor. If Zann didn’t hate his miserable guts until the heat death of the universe now, Niko would have to thank him for the suit.

He surged forward, straight into the Legend’s gunfire.

“Hey, I taught you that move—”

Niko body-slammed the old man with a silent apology. The Legend went down with a wheeze as all the air was knocked out of his lungs. “Holy shit, kid, you’re heavy,” he choked out.

“It’s over. We’re going now,” Niko said, pulling his weight off the senior citizen he’d just undoubtedly sent to chiropractic hell.

“You can’t just leave. At least kill me first,” the Legend said.

“Wh-what? No. Nobody’s killing anybody here.”

“You bested me. I ain’t what I used to be. I wanted so badly to be. Thought I could do it, still. So just do me the honor and put me out of my shame.”

“No,” Niko said. He seized the Legend’s gun and tossed it out of reach. The Legend had truly been an unrivaled hunter once, before Niko had come into his prime, but time had clearly won the long battle against him. Niko almost wished they could have a fairer fight, but now wasn’t the time. “I’m not going to kill you. Just— Come back later and we can do it again.”

“You’re serious,” Elliott marveled.

Niko stood and held a hand down to the old man, but he refused it, slapping his hand away. “You may as well have killed me. Never lost a bounty before. I ain’t worth shit now.”

“Just—” Niko hesitated. “Just be careful. Go see a doctor. That can’t have been good for you.”

“Piss off,” the Legend said.

Niko glanced back at Elliott and they continued towards the exit, hurriedly stepping over the unconscious bodies of the other hunters they’d downed. Niko could hear voices in the background, likely Galapol catching up.

Elliott gave an awkward glance towards the Legend before stepping over him too. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it’s not.”

“You can especially piss off, asshole,” the Legend said.

They slipped out the grate and back to the So?adora, no other obstacles in their way.