Meme Aim + Darts

Sveta took the long way around, going up onto the top of the station, then circling around through the shadows of the encampment on the far right, while we traced a route along the left.  Swansong was struggling with her footing, so I floated down, giving her support.

***
I turned to look back.  A group of villains and corner-world civilians, all banding together.  If there was a situation where I could have laid out the facts, told them the stakes, then how would they react?

***

“They might.  They’re reinforcements for the people we’re really after,” I said.

“I can slow them down,” Foil said.  “I count eight vehicles.”

“From this range?  You don’t have any crossbow shots.”

“Range barely matters when you ignore gravity and air resistance,” she said.  She had darts- though ‘dart’ was a misnomer.  They were pencil-length, sharpened at both end, and looked to be singular pieces of metal.

“Do it,” I heard Swansong.

Flechette threw.  One dart per throw.

There were no explosions.  No dramatic movements or responses.

“Done,” Foil said.