Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"And if I die, I die free."

...

"SO BE IT."

"MORNING RESCUE!"

A cruiser parked itself overhead, and sixteen men in orange armor jumped out, and landed, surrounding the Catalyst. It looked around in confusion, as did Shepard. They hoisted flamethrowers, but instead of fire, soda poured out in a torrent into the image of the Catalyst. It screamed, a terrible scream that shook the Citadel itself. The soda flooded everywhere, and the Catalyst faded away. Shepard looked up, and the nearest Reaper dreadnought ceased firing on its target, the battered Destiny Ascension.

"What...? How?"

One of the men approached her, and handed her a small bottle.

"Rescue."

"Um. Thanks."

Chapter Text

"Serah? No no no no! Serah?! SERAH!"

"Noel?! Are you okay up there?!" Sazh called through the louspeaker. "What's going on?!"

"It's Serah! Get some help quick!"

"I've got just the thing! Morning Rescue!"

"What was that?!"

At that moment, the hatch popped open, and a man in orange jumped up, spraying a bottle in Serah's face. It was unlike any potion Noel had ever seen, fizzing the instant it hit her. It soaked into her clothes and skin, and she blinked her eyes open again.

"Serah?"

"Noel? I saw...."

"MORNING RESCUE!" The orange man interjected, and then took a flying leap off the airship.

"Hey, wait!" Noel tried to stop him, but it was too late. Still, something inside him said the man would be okay.

Chapter Text

"Tell me where the Avatar is, and I'll let you keep your bending."

"I won't tell you anything, you monster."

"Very well."

He walked around behind her, and put his fingers on her head. She struggled against the ropes for a moment, and set up her mind to resist his assault. Lin's mother had told her that the way Avatar Aang removed bending was through a kind of contest of wills. Lin was constantly being told she had an unbreakable one, especially by Tenzin. Nothing could prepare her for what happened next.

"MORNING RESCUE!"

All at once it was like the sun had risen. The sky flooded with light, and one of the Equalist airships was now floating overhead, with soldiers in orange robes sliding down ropes. Just before Lin blacked out from Amon's technique, she thought madly that they were airbenders...

When she awoke in their hideout, one of them put a small cup into her hand. She thought it might be tea, but it tasted like oranges.

Soon enough, she learned that though Amon may have taken her bending away, it was surely back with a vengeance.

Chapter Text

"But they have the soft hearts of women! Ser Ilyn! Bring me his head!"

Eddard heard Sansa scream. It broke his heart to hear it, and to know she would be watching, be right there as it happened. He looked up, and didn't see Arya at Baelor's feet anymore. A small comfort to him at the end. Lord Eddard Stark was not afraid to die, but he was afraid for his daughters. The headsman brought up Ned's own sword. Ned stilled his breathing, looked down. Waiting.

He heard a clang above his head. There were shouts, cursing. He looked up. A knight, clad in orange armor, held a mere waterskin in the way of Ice. It was unimaginable that such a thing could stop the sword, and yet there it was. The knight spoke, his voice booming across the square.

"MORNING RESCUE!"

Within five minutes they were on horses, Eddard and Sansa on one, Arya and the knight on the other. Within ten they had left the city. They made tracks for the North.

Chapter Text

The ships were in full retreat. Anything that could fly, did, and they all brimmed with civilians. There were a couple alien ships left, and what remained of the quarian military commandeered them all. A beacon on the battered dreadnought Tarquis'Erim broadcasted as long as it could before being overwhelmed by the geth fighters and ground cannons.

"All ships are to leave the surface of Rannoch as soon as possible. No ship is to land on the surface of the planet. The geth have won the surface. All ships are to leave the surface of Rannoch..."

It held out for a few hours after the ship's inertial barriers fell, being a self-contained broadcast unit. Once it stopped, the fleeing ships and their pursuers on the way to the Mass Relay all recieved the same message on their comms:

"MORNING RESCUE!"

The effect was immediate. The geth ships immediately turned back for Rannoch, and ceased firing. What few quarians were left escaped easily.

Thus ended the Morning Wars.

Chapter Text

Vaan fell to the ground. His axe faded from his hand, and it was all he could do to raise his shield to block the manikin's blow. He felt something in him break, just as the shield did. To his left, Valefor was being ripped to pieces by a manikin in the shape of Jecht, a sad irony he might have taken note of if he wasn't so damn tired.

Lightning, Kain, and Laguna were still going strong, having seemingly been trained for battle in whatever lives they must have all had before. Vaan didn't believe he was any great warrior on his world, but time and again he made his way alright. Now was different. Now he saw a manikin, shaped like that clown on Chaos's side, bouncing towards him. His mind strained to move his body, to defend himself in any way possible.

Then his vision was blocked by an orange pant-leg. Vaan looked up, and was handed a orange potion. Knowing what to do, he downed it too fast, his sinuses bursting with bubbles. A moment of sputtering, and the man in orange spoke to him.

"MORNING RESCUE!" He screamed, as did his five friends, each standing in front of one of Vaan's companions. Their scream shook the ground.

"MORNING RESCUE!" They screamed again, and the manikins stopped in their tracks.

"MORNING RESCUE!" Another time, and the manikins burst into tiny shards of crystal.

They smiled, their work done, and let the Warriors of Cosmos be.

Chapter Text

The Raptor hung in space, its window smashed in by a piece of rock. Over time the Raptor would take more and more damage from the cloud of debris around the cylon colony, before falling into the singularity. The cosmic dance of rock and gravity would pull everything together, were there not a change.

The hatch opens, and a man in a bright orange flightsuit floats inside. He places a hand on Skulls' shoulder to steady himself, and places his feet on the floor, the gravity plating taking effect and bringing him down. Neither of the two pilots lasted long, Racetrack succumbing to a micrometorite through her helmet, and Skulls much the same. The man closes the hatch, and pulls out a spray can. He sprays it around, the orange mist sealing the holes in the hull and the pilots' suits. The Raptor repressurizes, and the mysterious man lifts off their helmets, and gives them each a spray of orange.

Racetrack opens her eyes. She doesn't remember anything, but her senses quickly snap back into place as she notices the view out the window of the cylon colony. The man puts a hand to his ear and listens to his radio. She turns around to see him.

"What the frak are you doing in here?! Skulls!"

"Do not worry." the man says, leaning over her, and putting his hand on the trigger at her side.

"Morning rescue."

He presses the button, and the nuclear missiles launch.