Hekate's Call, Chapter 11

”Disable them.”

Manya sighed her little play sigh as she began walking towards them. ”I guess that’s that, then.”

Vigil was the first to draw her weapons. A pistol and a combat knife. Krystyn shouted something at Crater, but everyone else knew it was far too late for that. Ilina stepped back instinctively. There was no shame in running from a fight you can’t win.

Four against Manya was more than fair odds, though.

How did she know that she couldn’t win?

Manya was on Vigil before she could aim. There were a series of fast punches and grabs that Ilina couldn’t even pretend to follow. Krystyn pulled a gun and fired into the melee, but the bullet didn’t hit anything. Or did it. The next second there was blood, and one of Vigil’s arms on the ground. Screaming followed.

Manya stepped past the falling Vigil, half-covered in blood, leaving a new hand-sized gash in her side, towards Krystyn. Trigger pulled, Manya was already out of the way of the shot, and the next shot. Then Manya tore out Krystyn’s throat and left her torso bloodied. Ilina could see the wounds from where she stood paralyzed. Four near-lethal wounds in almost an instant.

Her head tilted an instant before the hanger echoed with a rifle shot.

“Found you,” Manya’s hair flowed in the bullet’s wake. What would have been a perfect shot dodged with prescience. She pounced off towards the catwalk supports and scaled them with such ease. Inhuman motions. Devil-like.

Velia didn’t make it far. At that distance, Ilina couldn’t make out how bad Velia’s injuries were. Not that it mattered. When Manya jumped off the forty-foot catwalk, Velia tumbled afterwards until she was pulled taut by a cable. Hung by the neck.

The devil-thing approached Ilina, hips swaying from side to side. A wide smile on its blood-covered face.

Ilina dropped the gun in her hand and fell to her knees. She splayed her fingers as wide as the could go on the ground in front of her. She couldn’t run away. The most Ilina could think to do after watching it all was that she might survive if she surrendered.

Surviving was the only thing Ilina Falke had ever been good at.

“Good girl,” the devil-thing purred. “If the necromancer can’t bring back your girlfriend, I’ll happily take you. I did say I wanted to keep you after all.”

It brushed its lips with blood smears before pulling Ilina into a deep kiss.

Almonds? That was a bad taste, right? Light faded from the world quickly, leaving her with just darkness.

Hunter shook violently in place. A light scent of sweets lingered in the space between the sheets. Murmurs on both sides. Something metal and inhuman began slithering around her ankle. Things were hazy. No time to assess.

When the devil-thing in front tried to push forward into her, Hunter pushed back, digging fingers into the soft flesh and avoiding the scales. Warm body behind her. She tried to squirm over it, thrashing kicks at the active devil trying to grab at her.

Suddenly everyone was shouting and thrashing in the blankets. It lasted until they hit the ground. The other body laid on top of her, clutching her tightly and whispering something.

Calm down. You're fine. It was just a nightmare. You're fine now.

The devil was out of sight, moving somewhere in the room. Lurking threat.

Steady breaths. Everything's okay. Nobody is trying to hurt you.

Hunter couldn't squirm from under the woman that was pinning her to the ground. They let the weight off her slowly as Hunter gave up trying to get away. Deep breaths.

A nightmare?

Right. Of course. It couldn't be anything else. What happened? The details slipped from her. The devil-thing showed its true colors. That was the only thing left as Ilina composed herself slowly. Manya was dangerous. Everything in her body told her to stay away from that thing.

"Water."

Krystyn lifted herself off to receive a glass of water from Manya, which she in turn offered to Ilina. She shook her head violently, and shifted further into the corner between the bed and the wall, as far away from Manya as she could get.

Manya tilted her head with a cruel smile. Krystyn couldn't see it, she was too busy looking at Ilina. But Ilina saw it.

"It's not the first time someone's woken up screaming next to me," Manya laughed, "here, here. I'll put it all away, see."

The tail liquidized and vanished back into her spine, and her black devil horns did the same. Her hair that had been pushed aside slightly by the horns covered the black ports where they came out. If not for the bits of black scale barely visible on her hips and the back of her neck, she could pass for a real human.

Her lip twitched back, like a dog about to bare its fangs. Ilina thought she could just ignore the danger Manya posed, but something about her triggered every instinct she had to run. Every second around the woman was an unmanageable risk.

"Charlotte, look after her. I don't want to be late for our check-in," Manya strolled away.

Once she was certain that the devil-thing had left she finally exhaled through her teeth. Krystyn had made a point of pouring out the cup of water and getting a new cup for Ilina. She sat on the floor and wrapped around her, pulling her in close.

"Are you okay?"

What did it fucking look like? She sipped her water and leaned into the stupid woman. Her heart rate was beginning to steady, finally.

What was that dream? A premonition of some kind? No. No. That wasn't it. The grounded answer, the only real answer, is that her dreams were affected by the chemical factory as she slept. Whether it was the candy or something she did with her scent, it was because of Manya. Because of something physical and real that Manya did that mixed with Ilina's fears of what she could do.

In her early days at Carrion she shadowed Morian on her rounds. Morian explained the exact ways she turned half-dead pilots into corpses, and then how she made those corpses dance to her whims. Drugs, stimuli, positive and negative reinforcement. In Morian's own words, her methods were a sledgehammer to a Handler's scalpel. Whatever a Handler was.

Was Manya a Handler?

No.

If Manya was capable of taking her apart with that kind of precision, then she wouldn't have had a nightmare like that. That was an accident. A miscalculation on Manya's part.

Another person here to carve a piece of Ilina Falke for themselves.

"Don't let Manya touch me again," Ilina whispered, "not for the rest of the trip. Not until I can talk to Morian."

Krystyn's frame tightened for a second, and then relaxed. An affirmative noise, followed by a light head pat.

Some fifteen minutes later Manya returned. Ilina had positioned herself somewhere, casually, to watch the door where Manya would enter.

It was so subtle that she might have missed it unless she had expected it. The door was heavy against itself, but Manya could come and go with ease. A black ooze, quicker than a heartbeat, slid between the frame and into the hinges. She opened the door exactly as far as needed to slip in, and then closed it behind her. Silent as the space between the stars. The ooze left the hinges as quickly as it arrived and leapt into the ports on Manya's hips.

It was when she was surveying the room and made eye contact with Ilina that she smiled brightly once more. She pressed a finger to her lips – hush. Yeah, Ilina didn't need to share all of Manya's tricks around, but what was important was learning what the tricks were and that Manya knew she was compromised.

"What did Crater say?" Ilina asked, rousing a slightly hungover Krystyn from a sunny nap.

"Thanks for the check-in," she smiled.

"Can I borrow the hook and talk to Velia?"

Manya's smile faded convincingly, "Oh, right. Krystyn's usually not happy to hear from Liz during shore leave. We'll bring a real hook next time for you. Mine is integral." She motioned to the top of her spine.

That... was insane. Even as a cost-cutting measure, using a pilot's personal omnihook was stupid. But using a pilot's integral omnihook was a squad-wide suicide pact. If something happened to Manya in the field, the rest of the team would be high-and-dry with no access to planetary or orbital comms.

Hekate's Call was entirely staffed by pretty idiots, with Queen Crater dumber than the rest of them.

Something tasted familiar about the whole situation. The dynamics at play felt too intentional. Krystyn was in charge, but the only person who had a direct line to Crater was Manya? The only one back in the barracks who had real access to their collective handler was Velia despite being a rank-and-file.

A mandatory mediator.

Imperials all had the exact same playbook.

Finding time away from Manya proved difficult. To collect herself. To have a moment where she wasn't monitored so closely. Like the barracks with Velia hovering over her every second of the day.

Stupid.

Careless.

How could she let this happen again?

Manya wasn't whatever a Handler was, but there was something eerie about her actions. They were too exact to be human and she was picking up on something humans couldn't see. Heartbeat sensors. Heatmaps. Some augmentation that affirmed whatever touch she'd observed to have a reaction.

She was being blackboxed. Reactions mapped to exacting inputs, tested and replicated.

Ilina underestimated the devil-thing. She thought it was just drugs and attention it had been peddling. When did she start? Ilina wracked her brain for an answer.

Velia. It started when Velia was roused. But why?

"Move it," a man's voice as a palm the size of Ilina's face shoved her out of the way.

Where was she? There was a large open-air bar. It was beautiful out, but she'd been so absorbed in her thoughts.

They'd eaten lunch already and spent time around the shops. Ilina allowed herself to be insulted by being put into various dresses and colorful airs. Somehow, Krystyn was the one who insisted that she looked best in plain shirts and military trappings. There was an argument about that, but Ilina opted for some more of what Manya derisively referred to as tomboy fashion.

That man's voice sounded familiar. Cryse, fucking-nowhere. Sixteen blocks from the mass driver, and five from the ground shuttleport. Didn't particularly matter.

Ilina needed to shake the devil's attention temporarily. Break her constructed behavior model. Introduce some noise into the dataset. Buy herself some time.

"Hey, Mamba," Hunter slid over the railing of the outdoor seating and started her march towards the man who had shoved her aside moments before. He turned and squinted at the call. She was right.

"I don't know any noisy little girls," he growled as he stood up.

He didn't make for his gun quick enough. Krsytyn and Manya shouted from behind her, but she was already in motion. One foot on the chair, the next on the man's belt, and with the third she twisted her entire weight around the top side of him, bringing them both down through tables and chairs.

Before he could get to his feet, Hunter had her pistol in his face.

"Remember me?"

"Fuck, Hunter?"

There was a swagger in Hunter's movement. She was back in form. There was a time in her life when she was feared and respected, and it felt so good to be back in it for a time.

"Didn't recognize you without that hardsuit," he motioned in surrender, "never thought I'd see you off world."

Hunter spat. "Yeah? That why you dipped after trying to feed me to imperials?"

A bunch of other people had drawn weapons, but so had Krystyn and Manya. They didn't know what was going on, but they backed her up anyways. Maybe Hunter wasn't as much an outsider as she thought.

There was a murmur in the crowd. Some people wanted to get involved, but the smart ones flagged their licenses before drawing a weapon. Mamba didn't have a license. If lawyers got involved, nothing could touch Hunter. Just executing an old contract. It was easy to forge contracts after the fact. How a lot of scum like Hekate used to cover themselves back home.

"They gave me a good deal," Mamba grinned his crooked, yellow grin. "Don't act like you're any better. You'd have taken the job for half what I got."

"You aren't even worth a quarter what I am," Hunter smiled. "I've got a good deal for you too. Empty your account here, and you walk."

The man fumbled his terminal. His large rough hands always struggled with the terminal. He'd made many typos in his payments before. He was smart enough not to try to bargain with Hunter. He just hit transfer and sent her a measly sum. She made more in a few weeks than the entire net worth of this scum.

"Thought you must be better off out here, but I guess there are less jobs for unlicensed bottom feeders like you."

Mamba shrugged and laughed. "Yeah. The fuckin' necromancer hiring? Might head back if she is."

Manya laughed.

Krystyn also let a slightly more contained laugh, "We put her out of business, sorry."

There was a brief few moments when Manya vanished to check-in with the Gestalt. Ilina could never make use of that time effectively. It was too irregular to be an accident. She was avoiding creating a predictable pattern of absence to prevent Ilina from planning around it. It also seemed to be the moments where Krystyn felt the most talkative.

"Are you an artist or something? You bought a bunch of brushes and stuff."

Ilina sighed. Could she even be direct in her questioning? Was Krystyn in on it or not? It was a safe bet against, but Manya could have left a recording device nearby. Waiting for her to slip up. The pressure wouldn't get to her. She was aware of exactly what was happening now.

"It's for uh," Ilina blushed. Gosh, she hoped Manya didn't leave a recording device anywhere. "Boot... care."

"Pervert stuff, got it," Krystyn smiled. "I like that side of you, actually. It's pretty charming."

"Too bad there isn't a more charming side of you to like," she slipped while putting myriad bottles and pens and brushes exactly where they needed to go in her new bag. Hopefully she would find a nicer, proper case for it but for now it was a simple canvas tool bag.

The woman got quiet, suddenly. There was a palpable air of guilt around her. It wasn't Ilina's job to be her therapist or to forgive her.

She picked herself back up rather quickly, to Ilina's great dismay. "Even that is still better than the stone faced killer shit," she laughed. "Scarier than the dog at her most rabid. Also, can I just say I hate you two working together? What the hell is that teamwork?"

Ilina let that compliment hang in the air for a little to soak it in. Things were better when Krystyn was simply singing her praises instead of speaking anything else on her mind. Tedious, disgusting woman.

"Oh, you're a bootblack. I didn't expect that," Manya's voice seemed to come from all directions at once. It took a moment to realized that she was leaning directly above her head. "Would you take care of mine, if I asked really nicely?"

"No."

"Oh! Just for Velia, then. How romantic!"

"What did Crater say?" Krystyn jumped in at the earliest chance she got.

Manya pulled out a little birthday popper thing – those cones that shat out confetti and glitter that nobody liked – and politely aimed it far away from Ilina's bag before popping it.

"Congratulations! I managed to convince her you deserve a treat." The range in Manya's voice was eerie. She sounded just like a happy little cheerleader. She even did a little dance about it. "You can go get your fill tonight only."

Oh, fuck off.

That was bad.

That was really, really bad.

Calculated too. Something Krystyn was so wound up about and wanted so deeply. One night only. All she had to do was break her promise and leave Ilina alone with Manya. She was going to do it. She wasn't even going to fucking hesitate, was she?

"Show me the record," Krystyn's brow was furrowed. She thought this was a trap. It was! It was a trap! You idiot. The trap isn't for you.

Manya produced a tablet with a full record of the conversation, timestamped and everything. Encrypted comms. Everything was legit.

"You wanted to get her alone," Krystyn made eye contact with Manya. Oh, maybe she wasn't as stupid as Ilina thought.

"Tonight only. Take it or leave it, slut," Manya sneered, "What matters more to you? Some upstart pilot you don't even like from a backwater imitation of your glorious capital, or finally getting off the way you need to? How about this, then. I promise you – pinky promise, here – that I won't lay a finger on the brat while you're gone."

Krystyn flinched. Ilina would have flinched too. Manya knew exactly what to say to cut the deepest. The promise was meaningless, but it was a concession that seemed enough to satisfy Krystyn.

As Krystyn packed a small bag and got her things together, Manya hovered over her like an obsessive parent sending her off to summer camp.

"You've been taking your birth control right? Remember to use a condom anyways. Been keeping up with your vaccines? No lawsuits, promise me. Fill your water bottle before you go! Remember to tip the boy and thank him lots!"

And just like that, she was out the door. A startlingly loud snap as the deadbolt on the door slid into place.

There was a time in her life Ilina wanted nothing more than to be locked in an expensive hotel room with Illustrious. Fucking Illustrious. Fucking Illustrious! But Manya Carie, the devil-thing that sauntered back towards her now that she was cornered and alone, was not something she was interested anymore.

"How much do you know, little one?"

Ilina couldn't make eye contact.

"People are supposed to get heated when they're angry and hunting down someone for revenge. Not feel relieved like you did. You think I wouldn't notice?"

Her tail thrashed from side to side. And the edge in her voice. Ilina felt the danger. She would lose the fight because the devil was faster. Fighting wasn't an option. Survival was the only option. Making it back to Morian. To Velia.

"You've been trying to get into my head and control me," Ilina said quietly, meekly, performatively. "Crater's orders, probably. I don't know what her goal is."

"Is that all you know?" Manya was suddenly inches from her face, scouring every detail of Ilina for more information.

Was there more to it? What did Velia say the first time Manya was in their room? Someone else was in the battle logs? Velia could read people better than she could. Ilina could read a situation, the atmosphere, and know when something wasn't right. But Velia had an eye for people that Ilina could never manage.

Manya abandoned the questioning and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Wanna play a little game then, hunter?" The devil smiled innocently. "I'm convinced you don't know anything for sure. But I finally have you all alone and it would be a shame to pass up the opportunity I have here!"

"You promised you wouldn't lay a finger on me."

"To both Charlotte and Velia no less," she hummed with disappointment, "Sit here."

Ilina sat on the floor in front of her, as indicated.

Like a stage magician she moved her hands from one side, and then to the other. A little flourish. And when they met in the middle she held two tight bundles of universal scrip in a little heart.

"Two months pilot's salary," she teased, "you can buy Velia lots of presents with this, right?"

Ilina had plenty of savings. Years of it. This was a drop in the bucket. But it was hard scip, easy to launder and avoided financial surveillance. Two months worth in hard scrip was worth a lot more than soft scrip. You could get away with a lot of deals with hard scrip.

Morian's necromantic lessons surfaced. The ritual components for necromancy were specific. Things that called the dead back to life and anchored them to the real. Familiar items or symbols.

Ilina's room was already packed with the same washes and grooming tools that Velia had taught her how to use. She needed other components to put things back how they were. To make Velia comfortable in the space.

Rifle. Sidearm. Knife.

Things easier bought with hard scrip than soft scrip in an abundant market.

Despite her preemptive decision to take the offer, her voice still quivered with an unreleased fear.

"What do you want me to do?"

Manya licked her lips, eyeing Ilina up and down. Drinking her in. It was a disgusting, familiar feeling. The kind of look every predator had as they decided exactly how they would tear into their meal.

No. Ilina was safe. She was still valuable. She still had the necromancer's blessings. She repeated it over and over in her head, but her stomach still churned the longer the devil-thing cut her apart with those eyes.

"Put on a little show. Strip."

This was something Ilina was familiar with. She'd put on many shows at the barracks.

It was more controlled than her first encounter with Manya. Each button, one by one. A slight sway from side to side as she peeled it off. Tugging her shirt off slowly, revealing bit by bit, until she had to pull the whole thing over her head. Running her finger under the elastic of her bra most of the way around before hooking it and pulling it over her head.

The devil was ecstatic, giggling as she devoured every second.

Ilina stepped forward and shoved her boot between Manya's legs on the bed. Hands in her pockets. Manya was practically panting, with deep, wet, breaths as she tightened her thighs around the boot.

"A little help."

Manya played with the laces, twirling them around her fingers as she pulled the knot apart smoothly. She loosened it just a bit so that Ilina could pull her leg out without looking like an idiot. Then the second boot, same as the first.

Ilina unbuckled and unzipped her pants. Not too eager. She turned slightly as she tugged her trousers over her hips, leaning this way and that to emphasize the motion. Bending over as she guided them down her legs before stepping out of them.

Her spectator whistled loudly like she was at a proper strip club. Enthralled in earnest. It was almost embarrassing. The strip tease was easy, but it was getting Manya worked up. The show didn't end there, did it? Usually by the time her underwear came off the audience was getting handsy. But not this time.

Once she was naked she slowly, awkwardly, turned to face Manya to wait for instruction.

"Sit back down."

A minute of silence, being taken in by Manya. It was unbearable. Ilina wished that she'd do anything else to her. Grab her, fuck her, anything. Anything but just watching her squirm in place. It wasn't even the nudity that was getting to her.

"Can you show me how you touch yourself?"

There was something in the devil's voice. It wasn't a question, obviously. It was something else. Like two voices asked in concert. Was her voice important? Probably not. Ilina didn't know what to do. The rhythmic humming was off-putting at first.

Touch yourself, little hunter.

She twitched into motion. Like a puppet being dragged along on strings. She felt strangely away from her body, but not like she normally did when she needed to act. The voice felt like it was inside her head now, but she couldn't tell who was speaking. Morian? But Morian had never asked her to debase herself like this for enjoyment. But nobody else called her that, right?

Just like that. You're such a good girl, aren't you?

The two-tone voice – no, was it three now? – continued to push her forward. Spreading her legs, wetting her fingers and sinking them in, urging her to let her voice out. She obeyed, after all she did everything Adrijan told her to. No, it wasn't the voice of the woman who coerced her to spy on the rebels. The voice belonged to Morian. She did whatever Morian said, because Morian called her a good girl and praised her lots. But Morian wasn't into women Ilina's age. She wasn't even sure Morian was into anyone.

Open your mouth. Yes, good girl. Stay just like that.

Sweet honey dripped into her mouth. Mama always shared sweets with her. Mom never liked that. Mama didn't look like the devil, though? Mom did in her imperial leathers. It wasn't them. Adrijan, that imperial spymaster, always insulted her with those sweet words, acting like they were a way to balance the abuse.

The way the honey tingled in her mouth was familiar. Too recent. She'd only tasted it in one place before. That's right. That's wrong.

The devil-thing's giggle called her attention back to the present.

How could Ilina ever forget that thing isn't human? Its presence was oppressive and calculated. Everything about it reached into the back of Ilina's mind and pulled out the worst feelings and connections. Her moms. Old handlers. Every abusive second groveling before a bunch of idiot rebels who couldn't see what was right in front of them.

Why did you stop?

I didn't mean to.

Don't you want to buy Velia lots of presents?

I do!

What do you even see in her?

Just give me the fucking money already.

The feeling of a string of thick drool running down Ilina's chest made her realize that words had been stolen at some point. Barely sounds. With each attempt the pool in her mouth just overflowed more.

She was testing her limits though and piecing together how to move her tongue. It wasn't numb. It was like she'd forgotten how to use it. How to vocalize. A whimper. A moan. She was approaching words as the devil-thing towered over her.

What did she even want to say to Manya? There wasn't that much time to try to decide, but it felt like time and thoughts were being pulled out of her head. Slipping through her fingers whenever she started to grasp something.

Suddenly the devil-creature was all there was. It took up her entire vision. Those inhuman features grinning infinitely wide. And yet not a single instinct in her head said to run away. She just waited for it to speak to her.

Velia won't look at you when she fucks you. Doesn't want to hear you. Nothing but a sleeve. Why are you so desperate for her attention?

Stop. Stop that. Don't talk about her like that. I love her.

Charlotte and Liz have nightmares about you. They think you're a monster. The necromancer has her own uses, but what are you good for other than killing people?

You don't know what it was like. I didn't have a choice.

Does Morian care about you? Are you supposed to be her surrogate daughter?

She has nothing to do with any of this. Stop.

I want you, little hunter. You're so pretty. So obedient. So smart and so clever. Can I keep you? Pretty please?

"Go back to hell," Ilina slurred, finally, "give me my fucking money. And get away from me. You fucking monster."

The devil dropped the prize on the floor in front of her. Ilina lurched forward and put her body over both bundles of cash. She earned this. She did what she was told. Now the devil just had to leave her the fuck alone.

I can't believe you can force your way out of all that with will alone. What a dangerous girl. I don't know how much further in love with you I can get.

The devil disappeared. And then silence. It was finally over.