"She fights well," Venrith stared down at the round holographic display, its lifelike features containing a birds eye view of the battle. "But can she keep it?"
The Numeth had no ornate chair on her command bridge, preferring to stand in a large, almost dusty castellum filled with practical implements that surrounded a large ramp. She needed only the quick access of her flight deck and the tools to command, nothing more. Even Yrix was more posh in comparison.
Lunae had already learned to feel disgust at the heartless efficiency of this Consortium, as even its painted halls and banners showed a certain dullness to them, chipped away by years of war. It was the sort of mathematical certainty that reminded her of her people. Life prolonged for a single reason.
"You have high standards for a student," Yrix crossed her arms, standing beside the Numeth as Lunae cowered behind her legs like they were a protective trunk.
"You aren't preoccupying the Emperor's resources for a few high-value units. These are meant to be champions. On par with our best, no?" Venrith countered.
Sonera could be witnessed clear as day on the war table, her carnage captured at virtually every angle with a prestigious sense of quality. Every step of the battle was being analyzed by a series of lieutenants around the table, ranging from many different races at Venrith's behest.
"I want them to be the best," Yrix squinted.
All Lunae could think about was the growing tension in Sonera's head, like a taut string that was soon to break. She could feel every minuscule scrap of that riven skull tense with a fury she could do nothing but dread. Such was the thickness of her sickly miasma that the Infestare princess nearly forgot to worry about the danger of the real world.
Venrith pointed. "Your student moves for the top of my Mountain Shaper. She is certainly bold, I'll give her that."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ivy stared down at the table in front of her with a confounded expression, unsure of how to process the apparent frivolity of the Consortium. For such a disciplined and warlike race to field a dainty, lady-like little tea set came as quite the surprise.
"Hm," Ivy raised her eyebrow, staring down at the ornate teacup that had been provided to her, courtesy of the royal Canere and its frightfully long reach.
It seemed the creature was both protector and provider, containing an entire kit within its tendrils. With equal grace and dexterity, it served the two "maidens" a bowl of strange black orbs, along with green-tinted liquid that smelled like jasmine.
Ivy gripped her cup with the usual mannerisms that were expected of her, making sure to take a sip and show her appreciation. Anything to play along and prevent harm from coming to Lila.
"You don't really get why you're here." Anya pursed her lips, squinting with those alien eyes as she stared into Ivy's soul. "Do you?"
The heiress shook her head. It was an honest expression.
"I'm here for more than frugal kinship," Anya explained, sipping her own tea. "I am a trailblazer. An explorer. A curious soul. Like my father. And I have a feeling that you, too, exhibit your creator's legacy."
The heiress's eyes widened. She couldn't even deny it. Anya's precise observation had already sent a shiver down her spine.
But she wasn't afraid of the princess. She was afraid of the truth. And Lila wasn't there to save her.
"Quite presumptuous," Ivy bit back.
Anya stretched out her exposed, pale arm, pressing a light finger against the heiress's nose.
"And correct."
Ivy frowned, "If you want me to admit that my father is a pest, fine."
She took a greater sip, even going as far as to reach for one of those strange orbs the Consortium called a snack. It was a squishy, messy little thing, with the texture of a grape. But even for Ivy's refined palette, it tasted amazing, blending just the right mixture of sweet and salty.
"Heh," Anya giggled. "Mine can be a little…hindering sometimes as well."
Ivy waited pensively for what came next.
"But make no mistake. We are both made."
The heiress felt more exposed than she had ever been in her whole life. She genuinely believed her last secret was a giveaway. Yet something in Anya's face gave her hope.
"I'm not quite sure how, but you aren't just some human girl," Anya finished.
Thank God.
There was some part of her that despised her father for throwing off the Consortium. But all the same, it was nice to have a scrap of mysticism. So that the heiress could face her dreadful identity with those she had chosen to be at her side.
"Yes," Ivy lamented. "I was…"
The princess cocked her head to the side, popping a mouthful of black orbs into the corner of her left cheek. "Come now. Say it. I'm being very polite about this."
Shit.
Anya was much gentler than Yrix. But her threatening tone was well informed by the Arch-Flayer. The deal was simple: obey or risk Lila. It wasn't that her fellow Psion was actually considered to be primitive. Anya had merely noticed how important she was, despite her inferior design.
Ivy hated being read like a book. Her whole life was spent lying to herself, and yet there she was. Naked as the day she was born.
"A toy. I'm a toy."
Ivy tried to hide her sniffle. At the very least, she could throw off Anya with a bit of truth.
"But I…don't know how he made me either," the heiress tried not to look over her shoulder.
Lila was only a few yards away, kicking dirt on the lawn with a furious expression. She could hear distant gunfire from the Crimson Forest and could feel her bondmate's distress.
"What a load of bologna," she muttered.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was loud. So loud she could barely hear herself breathe, if she were breathing at all. Somewhere in the wild mist of war, hidden behind her stained concentration, lay a gentle melody. A piano's key from her past. It kept her anchored.
"Rally to the weather deck, the creature is climbing our stern."
Sonera was hanging off a sheet of metal halfway up the Mountain Shaper, her metal claws digging into its hide like mud. In her left hand was what remained of a Psion's upper torso, dangling like a sack of beans as its dwindling consciousness relinquished the information she needed. Aside from the gunfire, it appeared the Consortium had begun to play war riff from somewhere in the great beast, causing Sonera to frown with disgust as she continued her climb.
Sounded almost like an electric guitar.
Something Lila would appreciate.
But never Sonera.
She liked the classics.
Her mechanical ligaments tensed, pushing the girl forward with impressive speed. She was surprised at how easy it felt. By the time the Consortium had reared their oddly shaped heads over the edge where she hung, the girl already had her claws on the deck.
From the perspective of her enemy, it was like a phoenix rising from the dust that billowed around the great machine, her radiant wings flashing with blinding light before a barrage of jagged knives came raining down.
She should have been tired. But as her enemy disintegrated into ashen remains, she felt invigorated, as if she could cast another barrage without breaking a sweat. And despite the absurdity of it all, that was the truth. The more Sonera killed, the more refreshed she felt.
Psions consumed both physical and mental stamina when performing such spectacular maneuvers.
Or at least the normal ones did.
Sonera finished her onslaught, touching the floor with her bloodied palms. The radiant wings had faded. Yet there was still a glow in her eyes.
Practically bursting with energy.
A roar from ahead rang through the assassin's ears as the Consortium spilled out onto the weather deck. At least two Canere were flanking a commanding Daregen, firing their superheated beams over the heads of crawling Xenquar. Sonera responded with arms that swept inwards, carrying with them a pair of radiant revolvers that fired only a single shot in a cross pattern.
The resulting explosion was less like a streak of thin flame and more like a fan of total destruction. When the dust settled, there remained the Canere and their flickering shields, yet the death of their underlings rejuvenated Sonera all the same, rendering her previous exertion completely null. Curling her fingers around her palm, the assassin constructed a whirling ball of flame, and with a snap of those same metallic claws, she sent it sailing towards the Canere like a fluttering bird.
They responded with a streak of energy from their arms. And as if driven by instinct, Sonera blocked with her arms, skidding backwards as she gritted her teeth. The onslaught didn't last long, however.
Her flame met the enemy.
A flash so bright it caused her to flinch.
Nothing remained in its wake.
"Hmph," Sonera blew at a rogue bang that dangled in front of her eye.
She was expecting more. At her current pace, she would descend the Mountain Shaper and assault its soft innards with little resistance. But Sonera knew better than that.
The floor around her shook before caving in, its sundered metal making way for a massive Daregen who, much to Sonera's amusement, appeared to fly on a mechanical pack that belched flames nearly as much as she did.
They didn't speak a word to each other. Instead, both warriors cracked their necks, with one of them clearly enjoying the soundscape of battle.
Finally, a worthy opponent.
What would Lila say?
Our battle will be…
Sonera was too blinded by her hate to figure out the rest.