Hekate's Call, Chapter 12

The air on the Gestalt had changed since they got back. It had been nagging at the back of Krystyn's mind. She screwed up trying to get on Ilina's good side. The doctor said there was no real coming back from that screw-up. The girl holds grudges beyond the grave. Figures. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it.

It was the rest of the atmosphere that felt like being cut apart with rusted razors. The way everyone seemed to look at her. How did things get so fucked, so fast?

The dog followed her lead down the pier. They were set to do a training mission, just another 2-2 objective capture. Urban cityscape, planetside. Ilina and Manya on defense together. And just to spite Krystyn, the two of them were hanging out right in front of the Inertia.

Manya was hanging off Velia's arm like university arm candy. Ilina seemed in high enough spirits despite it. Gods below only know how she could put up with it. Wasn't that your girl?

"And where should I be positioned?" Manya giggled, looking at the tablet in Ilina's hand.

"Shouldn't you be hosting your strategy meeting anywhere else?" Krystyn growled.

Ilina had a wicked little grin and a bad attitude. She'd solved every training exercise and was getting a big head about it. "Figured you might need the handicap." She turned the tablet to Krystyn.

Ambush locations, backup positions, route predictions, contingencies. It was all there. Krystyn batted it away. The stupid bitch was a pain enough to fight even before she got in Krystyn's head. And she always did, somehow or another.

"Manya," Velia reached up and stroked one of Manya's horns.

She moaned loudly as she leaned into it. Still no reaction from Ilina. Something was definitely wrong with this situation, right? Didn't she hate Manya?

"Take one of the Inertia's arms off and I'll give you an extra treat tonight."

Ilina's woman was also not fond of Krystyn. More than deserved. It felt awful though, she really hadn't meant anything by anything she said. Ilina was a protective little guard dog around her too, so Krystyn had almost no chance to apologize for any of it.

Manya giggled in excitement and nuzzled the woman, before pushing off and jogging off to saddle up.

Ilina and Vigil bumped fists in passing. They seemed awfully close too suddenly.

"Better hope blondie's got your back for real," Ilina sneered, "we're coming for you."

Vigil, in rare form, chuckled darkly. "I wonder how far you'll fly when you catch the hammer."

And then it was just her and The Problem With Inertia. A skeletal monstrosity. A titanic humanoid monstrosity flensed and kept together with a dangerous black ichor. The outermost pieces of the armor were all stripped and bleached like bone, specially plated to resist the nanite swarms' ravenous appetites. Before she had learned that, she tried to have it painted, only for it to be stripped and eaten away by the end of the first encounter.

The ribcage opened and she climbed in. The reactor's startup was a familiar feeling, like being in an Domon Imperium line mech revving up to life. But when the Inertia moved, so did its ferrofluid blood. An initial heartbeat and then nothing but a constant shifting noise as it circulated through the body.

Full system check completed.

Neural links activated.

Krystyn's brain splintered. Billions of eyes that saw everything, felt everything, and the knowledge of the precise location of every blood cell in her skeletal body. The initial surge of information was the worst. The awareness of her exobody. Her real body.

But once she started moving it felt natural and she didn't feel or see all of it. Her hands gripped the controls out of habit. Dr. Kyrnn said it was important to be present in her flesh. It was a conscious choice she had to make now. She couldn't imagine going back to being a purely analog pilot like she used to be.

Charlatan.

"Hound," Krystyn affirmed into the microphone.

Shouldn't you have taken a look at their intel when they offered?

"What makes you think she showed us her real plan? Hunter was intelligence, Illustrious was spec-ops. You can't trust either of them."

Understood.

Even the dog understood that they were liars.

It would be several hours before the mission actually started. Sub-orbital drop into an abandoned city often used for these kinds of combat simulations. Then they would be picked up and return to the Gestalt via the mass driver. It was an excessive amount of time to be stationed at this planet, but apparently they needed more time for paperwork and processing. Crater wasn't happy about it by the sounds of it.

"Hound. Can you give me an update on what's been going on up here since we've been gone? Feels like something's changed."

Radio silence as the Intertia and Scandal loaded themselves into the suborbital shuttle. The mutt still took time to get up to speed when you asked it unexpected questions. That was fine, they had time.

Civilian Velia Lore has been in many meetings with both Dr. Kyrnn and Control. Dr. Kyrnn said that these meetings were about paperwork. Control has specifically forbidden me from reporting on several incidents since you've returned.

"So, I'm being cut out of the loop? You think Crater's gonna replace me?"

Hunter seems like a very capable field commander. I don't think she'd struggle in the role. But Hunter insists that you and the Inertia are the keys to Hekate's success. I agree with her, by the way.

"Thanks."

A bombed out husk of a city full of mech tracks and collapsed buildings. This wasn't the first training exercise to meet the abandoned city. They still had a few minutes to go before the exercise started. Krystyn needed to prepare.

The Inertia's skeletal arm bled a thick black ooze from its wrist, dribbling it across several turned over cars and a few broken limbs of abandoned wrecks mostly salvaged. As her blood devoured the metal she felt her wholeness swell. When an object was finished being devoured the blood flowed and floated back to its body, coating it in black sheen.

Krystyn never went into a battle without preparing some armor. She also spun up the razor. As long as the Scandal stayed near her, she could even tug a rail slug out of its trajectory. It hurt like hell, but it was what the Inertia was built for.

Thirty seconds to start.

Railguns, no matter how well shielded, created electromagnetic interference. Krystyn had seen the diagrams and understood the concepts. But ever since the neural link got tuned so tightly that interference felt like being electrocuted. Every drop of blood in her, around her, even distant drops half-dead, screamed in chorus as the field clashed with the ferrofluid's internal controls.

Her body screamed.

A space ten paces, maybe twelve, ahead of her, just inside the area for the exercise, exploded as a rail slug created a large crater.

Krystyn knew with an unnatural precision exactly where the WFH was when it fired. She flagged it on a map for both of them. It was those magnetic field diagrams. The Inertia had a system for triangulating things like railguns or other mag-weapons, but she simply knew now instead of having to look at an alert and a pin on a map.

Control hooked into the comm. Her voice icy cool as always. Mark set. All pilots in position. Begin exercise.

Charlatan.

"Hound?" Krystyn hated the call and response bullshit. Hound never bothered anyone with that shit after they engaged. But until then she needed some kind of prompt or permission to speak.

Illustrious relocates after every railgun shot. Without fail. We should not assume the same sightline from her first shot.

"I know, I know. More of their stupid spy games."

As they moved into the city she remembered how awful every exercise against Manya was. To begin with, the Work From Home was a ghost. It was fast and invisible and could climb any surface. Completely untouchable. It had a sensor range that almost certainly covered the entire city, and no amount of minimizing your signature or hiding would stop it from knowing your exact location – especially with Orchid managing the machine's sensor arrays.

What the fuck was that thing's full name? Orchid in Bloom Beneath the Stars? Something long and stupid.

That meant they had to continuously break sight lines as they advanced. Weaving between buildings and taking covered positions. They would eventually reach a confrontation, but the more they made Manya relocate for a shot the greater the chance of... something.

The heat was blistering and her cockpit was getting humid from sweat already. What was the point of this exercise? It felt like a hazing ritual at this point. Like she was a fresh rookie being shown the ropes for the first time.

Focus, girl. Focus.

The Parting Word carried that slug thrower, an integral scattergun, and a heavy launcher. It also carried a bunch of very powerful grenades designed to disrupt a mech's ACS. Like the dog had said, it was capable of pushing even the Inertia around like a schoolyard bully. It got worse since she added that grappling hook because now it could get underfoot even faster. God damn anklebiter.

They made remarkable progress through the winding city streets. They only had satellite images to work with, so things were generally an estimation and some of the paths had changed since then. Must be like a fucking playground for Ilina. She loved claustrophobic hell pits. Made her feel cozy and at home.

Rifle fire from the rear. Tenth floor, a block back. The Inertia moved past the Scandal to take the hits. The initial barrage was nothing to scoff at, but the Inertia was a hefty girl who loved to eat. The bullets mixed with blood and were ground down to expand the shield. The rifle fire shifted to an irregular pattern.

They were being pinned. So that meant this was the ambush.

"Hunter--"

Just past the Inertia she saw it. Like a cannonball on a leash, the Parting Word swung around the corner head first before cutting its tether. It slammed into the Scandal like it was a domino, taking the Inertia to the ground with it.

Her blood screamed as the rail's capacitors reached peak charge.

The Inertia's mag-weapon triangulation could identify the path based on the magnetic field generated. The Inertia cradled the Scandal like one did a child and moved it out of danger. Her right arm was carved out at the socket. It couldn't have been a more perfect shot if she tried.

Hound moved fast. You could always count on that. It used the momentum of the Inertia's pull to throw itself at the adjacent building – 22-stories tall – and brought it down on them with Heaven's Hammer. It's other hand dragged the Inertia into the building as it fell around them.

Oh, the building was a lot sturdier than she thought. The amount of rubble and dust from the hit fooled her. With the next punch they were out the other side of the building.

Krystyn shifted her blood to the hole in her chassis, sealing the coolant leaks first. If the Inertia had one weakness it was how much heat it built up. Then she bled a spear out of her left arm, moving it once, twice, to feel the weight of it.

The Inertia was a defensive tool, but her ability to take hits wasn't what got her through the war.

That's my treat secure. Manya over the open channel. I guess as your roommate I should tell you that I won't be coming home tonight.

Before Krystyn could respond, the Parting Word strolled around the corner. It was so small. Heavy power armor. Ilina wore it with such confidence that it felt like such a bigger threat than it was. The kind of awful swagger that made Krystyn's hair stand on end.

Pilots were often more confident in their steel. Ilina and the dog though?

They became themselves in their steel. Their real selves.

Who says you get to stay the night? Ilina's voice was deadened, focused. That serial killer bullshit again.

I know you aren't the one who makes that decision, little Hunter.

They were giving them an awful lot of time. The WFH no doubt was in a quick cooling cycle. They needed to break out of the crossfire, and it would be easier to force their way through Ilina than try to outrun Manya.

Over the encrypted comm, "Hound. Make cover. I'll take Hunter."

No confirmation, just action. Rubble and a smokescreen, for what little good it would do. The WFH's marker drone was certainly right on top of them – another invisible little insect with too many eyes. But the only weapon Manya had that could take clean shots through hard cover was the rail.

Now to deal with Ilina. Reach was key. Optimal range for the Parting Word was just outside of the Inertia's reach. But the Inertia was faster. But the Parting Word could push her back. No matter how awful it felt, this fight would still have been even when she had both arms.

The Inertia stepped forward, holding the jagged spear forward like a sword, holding a duelist's stance. The Parting Word stood completely still, unmoved by the display. Unflinching when she feinted a moment later.

Fuck.

It made Krystyn's blood boil.

You stupid insect. If The Problem With Inertia were to simply step on you, your armor would buckle and you would be paste across the pavement.

Is your mech busted, blondie?

What the fuck was her goal? What was she planning? God, Ilina was already in her fucking head with those stupid games.

You sent Hound against the rail because you're afraid of it. And now that you have to face me, you're shaking in your boots.

Vigil, over the encrypted comms. Turn off your radio. Stop listening to her.

It was a trap. She had a fucking trap set up. Somewhere. But the longer Krystyn looked for it the dumber she looked. Krystyn's hand trembled at the radio's controls.

Hey. How many people have you left behind? How many people are dead because they trusted you?

The Inertia swung deep and fast, shifting its weight forward and extending it's reach suddenly. At the exact moment where the front leg was shouldering the machine's entire weight it was ripped apart by one of those stupid grenades Ilina had – the ones designed to break bay doors so she could go slaughter unarmed civilians by the hundreds.

There was no banter or gleeful gloating, just decisive action. The Inertia stayed upright, bracing itself on the spear. The Parting Word threw itself, pushing the compact reactor into motion, so she had a clear shot of the damaged leg and blew it to pieces with both barrels of her slug thrower.

The Inertia buckled, kneeling on its stump leg.

When did she fucking plant that grenade? It had to have been when they toppled the Scandal. To hold that card for so long, to that moment. Pure arrogance. She knew exactly what to say to push Krystyn too.

The Scandal swept in from behind her heaving Heaven's Hammer skyward over the Parting Word. The stupid little armor was pulled back towards the wall and out of the hammer's path looking like a wire film action scene. That stupid grappling hook made her so much more frustrating to fight than when she was just clomping about in the mud. The ground exploded at the hammer met earth.

Her blood screamed again. It was worse now. The WFH was so much closer.

A rail slug carved off the Inertia's good leg off at the hip. It could have been a kill shot. But she wanted to fuck with her too, probably.

The Scandal pulled a rifle in it's small arm and started laying down suppressive fire towards the Parting Word. Krystyn was surprised, usually she never carried a ranged weapon into combat. Never needed it before, she supposed.

Not that it mattered. The Parting Word could shoot around corners with the launcher.

It didn't really matter what she did.

They lost the moment they had to fight that thing.

At the very least she wasn't going down without a fight. Training accidents happened, and this was a live-fire exercise. The Problem With Inertia had a few features she rarely showcased so she could put down smart little bitches like Ilina.

The Inertia's blood wasn't pumped, it simply flowed. The tanky beast collected the momentum and percussive shock from attacks and preserved it in that flow. The more damage it took, the faster it went. Even the electromagnetic interference from the WFH's rail didn't slow it. The loop was deafening inside the cockpit, like she was in the middle of a hurricane.

She raised her good arm, the only limb she had left, towards the Parting Word. Skeletal and scarred, oozing thick black blood. The blood in the loop around the cockpit swirled in infinite circles, ever faster, suddenly rushing towards the hole at the base of the wrist where it normally bled from.

The Work From Home finally appeared, landing gracefully only meters in front of her.

Fuck.

The retort loop fired the black ferrofluid blood directly into the rail's electromagnetic discharge. A dazzling sight and display of the finer sciences at play. The ferrofluid bloomed and chased the magnetic field instead of surging through the WFH's chassis. Beautiful, clean arcs that looked just like the diagrams from the manuals.

Manya hadn't even fired a slug. She just blocked the loop in its entirety with the discharge at point blank range.

The proverbial insult to all of Krystyn's injuries.

None of it mattered anyways.

Krystyn sat down at the unofficial pilot's table in the cafeteria alone. She ate her food in silence.

She had been in the infirmary by herself, being treated for burns on her back from holding the retort loop for so long and a bunch of cuts and bruises from getting knocked around. Oh, and the building falling on her.

Normally at some point she would have been summoned for debriefing, to explain what she could have done better. But not this time. Why bother? It wasn't like she could have done better.

Halfway through her meal, Manya strolled in and grabbed food for herself. She wore a blissful little smile. It wasn't until she sat down that Krystyn caught a whiff of Velia's floral perfume.

"Already got your treat? I wasn't expecting to see you till tomorrow."

Manya ate... some kind of wrap. Local ingredients, fresh, and lots of spices. It looked delicious.

"Hey, can we, ah," Krystyn lost her confidence mid-question.

"Fuck?" Manya said after swallowing. "I'm going to spend the night with the girls, and get my treat then. I just went to have a conversation with Velia."

"Tomorrow?" Krystyn offered, hopefully.

Manya ignored her.

What was this about? As if Krystyn deserved this kind of behavior from her. Didn't she fucking roofie Ilina or some shit? She was sweaty and wet and addled like she'd never seen before when Krystyn got back from the brothel. Whatever Manya had been doing to the girl before then gave her nightmares too. How was she the villain here?

"Why does Ilina hate you so much? What's been going on between you two?"

Manya continued eating in blissful silence. The sound of her tail swinging from side to side was enough of a signal that she didn't regret anything she did.

"Fine then," Kystyn jammed a bunch of food in her mouth and chewed furiously. Everything about this situation sucked. Every since those three showed up everything had gone to hell. "What was your meeting with Morian about, then?"

Manya covered her mouth and laughed. "You're fishing for information, that's really cute. It's a nice guess, too. There's no conspiracy or anything, if that's what you're thinking. Everyone just hates you. I've always found you to be a repulsive little bootlicker."

What?

"Thank the goddess there are other people to screw, finally. Do you understand how exhausting and dehumanizing it is to have to top you constantly?" Manya sighed, like this was a burden she'd been carrying for so long. "You only want strap and keep insisting you're absolutely, positively straight. It's super gross, actually."

Yeah. It was gross. She tried not to think about it, and Manya had been merciful in never bringing it up until now. And it cut open that hole in her chest she'd been keeping closed for days.

Krystyn could feel herself shrinking into herself. She was awful. Everything everyone said about her was true. No matter how far she ran, when push came to shove, she was still the same soldier she was before. Using all the same tools of violence and control she was brought up in. How was she supposed to change the world when she couldn't even change herself?

Fuck. She was back in it now.

The back rooms of the barracks. Those disgusting drag shows at gun point. Holding the knife while those hyenas egged her on. She was one of them. No, she wasn't! She wanted to help those poor things. Things! Gods below, she couldn't even call them men. Just tools to move heavy objects around. Unintelligent violent fucking pigs. Unfit for society, let alone the military. Why were they even allowed to sign up to be pilots? Didn't they know what was going to happen to them?

A light touch on her shoulder shocked her.

Focus on my voice. Inhale through your nose. Hold it. Exhale slowly from your mouth. Inhale through your nose.

Inhale. Exhale. Slowly. Eventually she started to calm down. Her head was swimming. Where was she?

You're in the cafeteria on the Gestalt.

The Gestalt and Gravity. Space. Right. What was she doing?

You were having a panic attack. Can you speak?

She nodded. Her mouth was parched, she needed a drink.

What's your name?

"Krystyn," she took a sip of water.

"Good, that's good. Keep breathing slowly, just like that."

"Thanks."

She finally looked up to see who she was speaking to. Velia stood over her, a bleak but undeservedly compassionate smile forced over her distain. Nobody else was even looking at her. Manya was tugging at Velia's trousers, leaning into her and rubbing her cheek on the back of her head like a cat. As far as she could tell, Ilina hadn't come down to the cafeteria with her girl.

"Flashbacks?" Velia's voice cracked just a bit. She was so quiet. "Get Dr. Kyrnn to show you some grounding techniques. The breathing thing isn't always enough for me. She'll probably know something better for you."

She exchanged a nod with Velia. Some mutual understanding passed between them. Compassion undeserved, but welcomed.

"I'm sorry," Krystyn whispered, "I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

Velia nodded.

"I don't care."