Hekate's Call, Chapter 26

Adrenaline had long since faded from Ilina's system by the time the titanic stickbug came to a halt in some carved-out hanger in the mountains. She was suspended by a bunch of cables she'd gotten tangled in and she was in a really bad way about it. There was no Hunter here. No voice in her head telling her to remember the routes she'd been swung down for hours. No voice telling her to mount an escape while she was still tangled.

The other pilots dismounted. Ilina watched who got out of which mech, but it didn't really matter. Amberstahl's pilot was real pretty though. Dressed in some haptic suit with spined VR gloves and headwear, she looked a bit silly. But as all of that came off she was pretty.

The stickbug was holding her aloft still, out in the open, as mechanics started to file in to patch up the machines. The only one that had actually taken anything more than a scratch to the paint was Termite. Several people had decided to take turns kicking Ilina and spinning her in circles.

There was talk between a few mechanics and the Termite's pilot. She caught a name there. Sable? Right, that was in the file. They were trying to determine if the Again in Hell had a beacon, or if she could signal for help or anything. Of course it didn't have any of that. It could have given them away for the ambush. She didn't even have an omnihook in it.

Not that she could manage to say as such. She couldn't manage to say much of anything.

Between the pushing and kicking, Ilina was done. Every little movement now seemed to pull through that one cable digging ever deeper into her cunt. She knew why there were no hardplates down there, because otherwise it would hinder her mobility. So the only thing protecting her bare flesh from the cables was two layers of fabric hardsuits.

"Please let me down," Ilina begged. To no avail. Another round of teasing, she couldn't hear the words. Her face was so hot. "I ca-aaan't. I can't take it anymore. Please."

Was she even forming words properly, or were they wordless moans? Please let them have been words.

"What if she breaks free after we drop her?"

Someone's voice. Distant. Maybe the stick-bug pilot. And that. That was a fair concern, actually. Could they even hear her with the suit powered down? With a thought, even in the low-power state, the bolts on the back of the helmet undid themselves and it clattered to the floor below her. Fresh air helped clear her head a little bit. How long had her oxygen system been down?

"Put a gun in my mouth while I dismount," Ilina drooled, breathlessly. "Please. I can't. I need down."

Sable jumped in. "Hold on, I'm sure there's another way."

"Okay!" The cheer squad captain, Amberstahl's pilot, said with a grin. What was her name. Belle? It was Belle something.

"There's gotta be a way to turn off the reactor," Sable muttered while reaching out towards the Again in Hell.

She was too late. By the time Ilina began the slow descent, Belle had drawn a pistol with a little flourish and grabbed Ilina by the ponytail. Admittedly, that was the reason the ponytail was there in the first place. There was a danger in the woman's eyes, some sadistic glee that made her realize this was definitely a mistake.

The barrel was wedged into her mouth and pushed until she nearly gagged on it. Belle was careful not to catch any of her teeth on the sights, thankfully. "Sable is always too scared to load it and take take the safety off when we do this," she practically sang.

Oh, that really isn't necessary. Really. Ilina couldn't protest around the taste of steel and unburned powder spreading through her mouth. It didn't stop her from trying.

"See? Just like this," Ilina watched helplessly as Belle flicked the safety off. "I think it's more fun this way!"

Sable frantically cut at the cables with some tool once Ilina was on the ground. It would have felt so freeing without the slight rocking of the pistol between her teeth. There probably was a better way to have done this. To ensure she wasn't going to try to bolt or kill someone once she was cut free. She didn't think they'd actually do it. It was one of those things you said to show how desperate you were. They weren't supposed to take you up on it.

It took longer than she'd have liked to get the OK to dismount. It was a bit of a tricky process. Neural-activation for a few bolts, and then the suit more or less could take itself off. Opening along a bunch of major seams. The worst feeling was always the final bits before she could shrug off the suit, the bolts connecting the Again in Hell to the fabric hardsuit she had to wear underneath. The way it felt like it was boring out holes in her skin.

She'd made it up to her knees during the dismount, but the stupid humming cheerleader never let go. Hell, she didn't even break eye contact. She was having genuine fun with it.

The fabric hardsuit had to go too. It was very light, but still provided protection against small arms and could hide weapons. It unlocked at the collar and split along the back. It was difficult to peel herself out of without being able to turn or move her head, but she was helped out of it by the Termite's pilot.

Now she was sitting in the hanger in her underwear. Velia insisted she wear at least that under the fabric suit. She was thankful for that in this case. Ilina couldn't imagine surviving this without keeping most of her mess contained to her panties -- which were so thoroughly soaked from the traumatizing cable suspension bondage session that there was no hope of hiding it. It was too tight a fit to wear a uniform under, or even light clothing. The Again In Hell was a demanding machine. But now the comfort of her steel felt so far away.

Through tears she once more spotted a spark of cruelty and joy in her captor's eyes. The way she licked her lips as her thumb dragged back the hammer so slowly until she could feel it click into place.

No. Please. She couldn't even beg as it continued to get thrust so lightly into her mouth. Forward and back, not too far in either direction.

There were protests from others. Ilina couldn't make out the words. Her ears were ringing. It was probably the reasonable one.

Ilina managed to bring a hand up to the arm holding the pistol and tapped it once, twice. The energy evaporated instantly. The safety clicked back on instantly. That just worked? Belle carefully withdrew the gun, making sure to avoid catching any of Ilina's teeth on the way out. Both hands, focusing, she uncocked the gun.

With a similar flair to when she drew the gun she ejected the chambered round and caught it. "You can have this!"

It was held out to her, rolling around in the palm of the woman's hand. There was some instinct that pushed Ilina to lean forward and pick it up in her mouth, balancing it on her tongue.

Laughter pulled her back to her senses. It wasn't just Belle, but the stickbug pilot too, and some onlookers. Ilina dropped it into her hands, suddenly very self-conscious about the whole affair.

"They're going to want her back, for sure," Belle announced with confidence.

Sable brought another blanket to wrap around Ilina. She'd been given some spare underwear, and Sable offered up her jacket to her. For now she was tied by the wrists in the hanger, and the stone ripped away any heat that could have made it this deep underground. They were at least making the effort to accommodate her though.

"We're about to get in contact with your commander," she said, awkwardly.

Ilina swallowed some of the dry rations she'd been given and rolled her eyes. "I'm a contractor. I'm just a cost sink to her. She won't negotiate, and even if she would she couldn't grant any of the union's requests because we're just hired mercs." As if she hadn't already explained this a dozen times.

An hour passed. Ilina had given them the direct omni line to Crater, so they definitely reached her. But per protocol, now that the line was compromised all of Hekate's lines would get changed immediately, so there would be no further contact and Ilina was completely cut off. That made escape less of an option. The long wasteland walk with no supplies of her own had already cut that off though.

She hadn't been pressed for intelligence yet. It was the first thing they would have done back home. Odd. Are their interviewers out? Or did the union not have any professionals on their side?

Belle was the first to circle back and check on her. Sable came shortly after with a face that said it went exactly as Ilina expected.

"There goes our bargaining chip," Sable muttered.

Belle elbowed her sharply, "Be nice to the worthless bargaining chip! Hey, why don't you join our side?"

That certainly was an option. Years ago she would have, and did, take that choice whenever it was offered. She was bottom-feeding scum and everyone knew it, but she did a good enough job she'd only ever been captured the once. But now she had things to go back for.

"I have an idea," Ilina put her head back against the scaffolding she was affixed to. "I help you drive Hekate's Call off world, and I leave with them."

"Hey!" Belle made some kind of disgruntled noise, "That's the idea I just proposed."

Sable sat herself down on the floor across from Ilina. "You could turn on us."

"But I won't," Ilina shuffled her blanket around herself some, trying to sit up a little more properly for the discussion. "You'll lose without my help anyways."

"Fat chance!" A voice called from above. It was the pilot of the stickbug thing. Obata? A bottom-heavy woman who worked for the union forces. "It was a lucky break, but it looked like we broke the one with the big arm. Those two will go down easy."

Sable hadn't looked up to see who was talking. "You sound confident. Is there a reason for that?"

"Yeah," Ilina grinned. "Our railgun didn't fire. Next time you clash it'll pop the stickbug in one shot, then Termite immediately after. Then they'll pin down Amberstahl and really take their time with her."

"A sniper? I can sneak up on it and kill it!" Belle made a stabbing motion with her hands to punctuate the idea. "Problem solved."

Sable shook her head. "The railgun was going to get us if we retreated, right?" Sable was the brains of the operation. With the knowledge of the railgun, she'd probably reverse-engineered Ilina's entire plan. That was why her face was so grim. "Now they'll move expecting us to know about it, and it won't show it self until it has a kill shot."

Obata had come down a flight of stairs, trying to be part of the conversation. "Yeah, yeah. But the Siren can stop it from shooting. You have to look at things in order to shoot them."

Ilina started laughing. "And that's why you'd be dead!" She couldn't help herself. She was going to give everything away anyways. It was all bargaining power to convince them to let her go out with them. But getting to rub their noses in it felt good. "The Work From Home has a computational copilot program and two marker drones with full sensor suites. With knowledge of the field, they can paint your machine and carve out just your cockpit without ever turning on visuals."

Belle made some kind of face at Sable. It was cute. "Well, Captain? Have any ideas?"

She stood up grumbling, "We were barely hanging on even before this railgun. We are severely outgunned here. I need to go think."

The stickbug pilot was shooed off by Belle after suggesting that Ilina be put in a cell somewhere. It wouldn't have been bad, probably warmer than out here. Once the two of them were alone Belle pulled something out of her pocket.

"I washed these for you," and held out Ilina's underwear with a grin. Ilina snatched them away quickly and stuff them in the pocket of the jacket she was wearing. "You can keep those," she pointed down between Ilina's legs at the pair she'd been given, "those were mine."

Ilina pulled the jacket closed as best she could. It was difficult to do with her hands tied, and the lead being tied somewhere up above where she couldn't see it. There was a playfulness to it that at the very least put her at ease. Though Ilina was terrified to look into Belle's eyes in case she called upon whatever wild thing she saw when Belle had the pistol in her mouth.

Belle sat down beside Ilina and shuffled in close, helping to pull the blanket into a better position for her.

"Do you really want to go back?" She had such a pretty voice too.

That was a stupid question. "It's not whether or not I want to go back. I need to go back. My girlfriend's room and board and medical care is all on my contract," Ilina dropped her voice low, in case Obata had decided to lurk around. "Crater's not going to keep her around out of the goodness of her heart."

There was some kind of high pitched noise that emanated from Belle for a moment. "So, she's a hostage? We should kill them. Starting with Crater." That was a very quick judgement. Amberstahl's battle logs showed a decisiveness of action, if nothing else.

But talking to her was... fun. And easy. It was early in the conversation where she realized that Belle was pressing her for information, only without the threats and torture. To her own credit, Ilina was fishing for sympathy and divulged a lot of information about Hekate and it's pilots freely to get it. Though a lot of things seemed to upset her and that made Ilina feel bad about it all for some reason.

She didn't like being pitied, but had been a long time since anyone had really empathized with Ilina's life. Both FB-whatever and fucking nowhere were blasted-to-shit hellholes full of conflict for dwindling resources. The nature of the conflicts only differed on a surface level. The company that had a majority owning stake in FB was doing all the same things as FN's archaic empires, except in the name of capital instead of unity or strength or whatever line they used.

"It feels bad though," Ilina groaned after describing her current situation with Krystyn.

Belle's face had been slowly shifting from the cheer squad captain to something more uncanny, like she was forcing herself to maintain the face. "We really should kill them."

Ilina shifted and brushed shoulders against her briefly. "I'm not mad about the molestation. I like it. I'm just not used to getting this kind of attention. I want to touch her too, and get her off and stuff. That's usually how that goes, right? But she keeps stopping me and I have no idea what to make of it."

It was strange to see someone jump so quickly to violence as a solution. Amberstahl itself lent itself to that particularly well. Ilina was used to having her quick, dirty, and effective methods called brutal or barbaric at times. Belle, though? She could almost see the flashes of violence and gore behind those pretty eyes.

"I don't think you like it or that even half the things you've said are fine are." Belle interrupted suddenly. "But if it's what you want, I'll help. I'll go talk to Sable and make it happen. I don't want to hear any more. I couldn't imagine either of us willingly walking back into a situation half as bad as what you've got. But I want to help. Yeah." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Ilina. "If you really want to go back, I'll make sure it happens."

Belle stood as abruptly as she had cut Ilina off and jogged off to find her partner in crime. So, mission accomplished. They were going to help repatriate her. Ilina had held onto the operation details so she could have some sway when it came to planning the counter-op.

The heat on FB-something-something, Hunter never bothered to remember the numeric code for just about any planet, was intense. Not a cloud in the sky and nothing but agonizing heat. Even tucked under the edge of a cliff and hooked to the wall so she avoided the sun completely, she felt like she was going to die. The Again In Hell had an on-board heating system, but no cooling system not connected to the reactor. She could pipe the heat from her body out through the reactor's cooling system but not without actively cooling the reactor. Which would expose her reactor signature.

She set off early and laid the traps and laid in wait for a very long time. It would be embarrassing if Sable and Belle completed their mission unimpeded and Hunter looked very silly for predicting that Crater would try to complete the contract.

Sable had found a second route that Ilina didn't expect at the start, so they could have just bypassed the conflict entirely. But the thing about rebel forces fighting a lopsided war was that visible victories meant just as much as the small victories. Pushing back the force the company had hired to put them down would give the union more room to negotiate.

It made for a good story.

Everyone loved those kinds of stories.

Hunter hated them. Sable wasn't concerned with them. If she was she wouldn't have been going about things the way she had been. She really wished she'd gotten more time to talk to Sable. Captain Sable. There was a story there that Hunter never got the chance to ask about.

There was a slight rumble above her. No more than a light truck crossing a gravel road. The sound of servos and the hiss of hydraulics. The top of the ledge had a view of two possible exits. A clear shot at one of them and a path to relocate to a secondary firing position if it was the wrong one.

The Work From Home was directly above her. It wouldn't have come if it had detected her traps. She had definitely scanned with the marker drones. Now she would position those drones by the two tunnel exits for early detection. The Scandal and the Inertia would be positioned somewhere between the two exits, ready to move on either one of them. Block off the exit from behind and corral them into Illustrious's killzone. They wouldn't hold her fire this time.

Without Hunter, Hekate's Call fell back on its old tactics. With Charlatan's new mastery of the Inertia it was even deadlier than before. She needed to do more pair actions with Charlatan and get used to how the Inertia and the ferrofluid moved. It was a level of teamwork that required Hunter know exactly what Charlatan was going to do.

Hunter had been radio silent, but a burst transmission from Obata woke her up.

Coming through!

The Stickbug, Obata had called it the Siren or something, was the first thing out of the tunnel. It was a change in the plan, but it was good. It warmed Hunter's mercenary heart that they changed the plan immediately after she set out in case she bailed on them immediately. It was a show of understanding rather than a lack of trust. By being let onto the field and given a chance to reconnect with Hekate, Hunter's victory conditions were met and that made her a wildcard.

Illustrious wouldn't fire until all the enemies were identified on the field. Hunter lowered herself so she could do some rough spotting with a slightly lower sightline than Illustrious. She couldn't afford to to a sensor sweep when the WFH would catch it immediately, and her sensors wouldn't even reach the field from here anyways.

There was a miserable, pathetic little part of Hunter that wanted to help. Maybe it was homesickness. For her entire miserable life on planet fucking-nowhere, Hunter got kicked around from one day to the next only worrying about making it to the next sunrise. Those rebel speeches about building a better world, about looking after each other, all felt so distant to her. Like they didn't apply to her. They weren't about the world she lived in. None of them were ever going to come to her aid. But maybe these two would have.

All the praise and attention were making her lose her edge. She almost considered signing up when Belle asked her to. Almost. Maybe she could help someone, someday after this horrible contract was finished.

Radio burst. Contact.

The dirt on the hill above shifted as the Work From Home adjusted its firing angle slightly. Termite had shown itself behind the Stickbug and that was enough to pull the Inertia and Scandal towards it. Which was when Amberstahl came around from the second entrance with hate in its heart. Across an open field with no cover, traveling at a high speed in a straight line. Like Belle wanted to get picked off.

If that wasn't a show of faith in Hunter, nothing was.

Illustrious was a fast shot. With such an easy calculation, how could it not be? The interference gave the shot away a split second before the explosion where Amberstahl was. Just a plume of dust and cracked rock. Hunter was too slow to react.

There was a wild cackling over the radio. She still had the union's radio channels. It was Belle.

I did it! I fucking did it! I parried it! Eat shit!

Glad to hear she was still alive.

Hunter swung out and started her climb. The Work From Home was safe in this position, nothing the union forces could mount a counterattack at this range, but Illustrious would move anyways. She always repositioned. No time to hesitate, the WFH was a fast thing. Hunter triggered the six wire traps she'd set around the place and triggered the three flares -- red, red, green.

It was the middle of the day, but the flares did their job. Two flares on one side, red and green, and another on the far side, red. As Hunter came over the lip she could see the outline of the WFH clearly as the flares wreaked havoc on the active camouflage. Two of its legs had gotten tangled on one of the tripwires.

Hunter fired two hooks and reeled herself on top of it. Just like she did on that stupid exam to get the Again in Hell in the first place. Both machines' active camouflage went wild at the point of contact, constantly trying to adjust to each other until the area between them was a polychromatic static field.

Illustrious tried to shake her first. Then charged the rail and swung it down. She would discharge it without firing a slug just to fry her reactor. To do that she needed to open up the shielding.

Hell's axe was already in her hand, expanded to its full size. As the rail casing opened like gills, like it did in its cooling cycle, Hunter swung with all the force the Hell would give her. There was some additional mechanism in the axe that made it hit like it was ten times heavier than it was, something about "mass independent kinetic acceleration" or some other technobabble the head engineer, Taitle, tried to explain. Big axe hits heavy was the only thing that stuck though.

Three quarters of the rail's total length fell to the ground, inert. Safety systems in the WFH kicked on, cancelling the discharge. And that was mission complete in one quick swing. The purity of the rail's metals meant that they couldn't be flash-fabbed and they couldn't be manufactured on pretty much any planet that had experienced a nuclear explosion in its history. According to Sethlan, one of Taitle's subordinates, there was only one spare pair of rails and they kept it under lock and key on the Gestalt because of how expensive they were.

Hekate's Call had to pull out immediately. The two independents and the union pilot would complete their mission and deal a heavy blow to the company's profits. And then Hekate's Call would have to let the contract fall through.

The WFH was still kicking though. It fired mirror chaff and flash grenades as a defense. Hunter had already turned off her helmet and waited to hear the detonations before turning visuals back on. She'd gotten hit by that trick once before. Amidst the rodeo dance Hunter swung the axe in a wide circle until it caught the cockpit and started sawing a hole in it.

And then it stopped. The cockpit creaked open and the machine slipped down to its belly, spreading all its legs out in every direction with all the huffiness of a disgruntled cat. Illustrious's voice shouting a moment later, "Ilina this is a rescue op, you moron!"

"Fire the retreat signal!" Hunter barked back.

"Goddess above, you are unbelievable."

A set of three colored flares shot from the same kinds of launchers that the mirror chaff and flash grenades fired from. Hekate's retreat signal. They floated high above the battlefield, unmissable. The Inertia and the Scandal disengaged the moment they fired. For their part, and they earned Hunter's respect for it, her captors allowed them to leave without firing another shot.