Sabre Stories: What Dreams May Come

[OpMegs]

The blonde swordswoman collapsed onto her bed, exhausted. Words came back to her that hadn't made sense at the time. Power-intensive. Future
adjustments. Short combat life. The scientists had cloaked it in technical jargon, but the meaning was that she was flawed. If a fight lasted over an
hour, she would be utterly exhausted and unable to do anything with the demands of her armor on her own internal reserves. Obviously, they'd intended to
repair the flaw eventually, but there hadn't been time before she had led that disastrous escape attempt.

All of which meant that after one night on patrol, Sovereign felt herself lucky to have remembered the button that sent her armor to the armory racks in Riot
Base before she fell into bed. A broken piece of furniture would've completed her poor day. But even as she dozed off, there was only one hope in the young
looking woman's mind.

Please....please don't let me dream.

***

"So this is what they said you're supposed to use?" Rider asked, looking along the length of the hard, cold blade from behind her glasses,
throwing a tail of long violet hair over her shoulder absently. "It certainly seems to suit you."

"I'm glad this one does," Sovereign noted, turning it this way and that, feeling the weight resting comfortably in her hand. "The first
sword they gave me was some sort of large scimitar. It just didn't feel right at all, and they ran me through a few dozen other types before trying this
one."

The sky blue haired woman by the wall chuckled, getting confused looks from the two. "That could have been hilarious," Breaker noted. "Imagine
the codename if you'd actually been best suited to a saber or something. Saber Scimitar?" she sniggered. "You might get hit by friendly fire if
we ever shortened it because then we'd all be calling you Saber."

"Callin' who huwuzzah?" a dark haired figure noted, sitting up in bed behind Breaker, as Ruby blinked blearily at them all.
"Huh....s'Sove....Sove...name's t'long. Shoulda called you saybah or somethin', usin' swords. S'easier," she noted, before
rolling over and hiding her head under the covers, away from the awful burning light that was intruding on her attempts to sleep because of incosiderate
friends who should realize any sane person shouldn't be awake before ten or maybe even twelve on days they didn't have morning training.

"Say bah?" Sovereign blinked, getting a shrug from Rider and another amused snicker from Breaker.

"She has a point. Sovereign is so many extra syllables....Saber won't do, though. Something we can claim is just a random
name...Saber....Saybar....Saybiir....Seibiir....Seiber....Seiba...." she mused, before stopping as another purple haired girl, this one a bit shorter than
Rider and with less mature of a figure, entered the room before giving her a puzzled look.

"What're you doing, Breaker?" she wondered, getting a grin from the older woman.

"Trying to think up something less wordy than Sovereign's old name."

"...well, that last one actually sounded like a name," Violet considered thoughtfully.

"Seiba?" Rider said, pursing her lips in thought.

"Yeah. I like it. It's cute," Violet smiled.

"I have a name," Sovereign frowned. "I don't need to sound 'cute'."

"Oh, but you're already cute. Everyone knows it," Breaker grinned, getting an absent nod from Rider as Sovereign felt color rising to her cheeks.

"She is right," the tall woman noted. "At least, if I understand the definition correctly from how some of the personnel on base use
it. By that definition, she's not quite as cute as Archer, but close. Probably at least as much as Violet," she said finally with an unconscious nod
as she reasoned through to the conclusion, missing Violet's own slight blush.

"I still do not need to sound 'cute'," Sovereign protested.

***

"So now they won't stop calling me it when we're away from the guards," Sovereign grumbled.

Duo simply shrugged as she shucked the helmet off her heavy armor, while Ruby gave her a smile that Sovereign had learned meant trouble as she took off her
own.

"I don't know, they have a point. You certainly are cute. Maybe not adorable, like Archer, but cute," she grinned.

"I'm supposed to be the leader. I need to be authoritative. Inspiring. Intimidating, even. Not 'cute'," she said with another scowl.

Ruby grinned, playing with the strand of hair that almost always seemed to come loose of Sovereign's braid after she tied it back before suiting up.
"Well, besides that, it's a good name. It's one we gave you, not something like the numbers they call us....I like it," she said, leaning
against her.

Sovereign blinked, about to make another rebuttal before the last three words stopped her. "....I suppose you're right....if it just stays between our
group."

"Of course," Ruby smiled as she put her arm around Sovereign's shoulder and they stepped into the elevator behind Duo. "After all,
nobody's going to tattle."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Sofaspud]

CUE OMINOUS MUSIC

You've heard some of my comments already on this, so I won't go into too much detail. I like how you're portraying Breaker -- who I have to
confess a vested interest in, obviously -- even though I suspect she'll turn out differently 'later on'. And the 'cute' bits -- priceless.

There's not enough here to really bite down on, not yet. This feels like the intro -- which I think is your intention. That said... if you get a chance I
think this could use a little fleshing out. It's very heavy on dialogue, with no descriptive text telling me just where this conversation is taking place.
It doesn't need to be detailed, but if I approach this from the angle of someone who has no idea who these girls are or what they're doing, I have
nothing to clue in off of. All I know is that they're on some sort of 'base', that they apparently sleep together (same room, maybe same bed, big
fat question mark in the In THAT Way?! column), and they have doctors who refer to them by code designations.

Which, y'know, isn't bad! But it doesn't show us who, or why we're supposed to care, and since this IS a dream-flashback, you'd think some
of Sovereign's emotional involvement with her doctors/captors/guardians/whatever would come through.

(Yes, I know who they are, but again, outside perspective.

So, there you have it. Want to see more, liked it, but feeling a little let down -- it's like biting into what you think is a jelly donut only to find
that someone forgot to squirt in the filling. Still a tasty donut, but it's lacking something. Y'know?

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[OpMegs]

"You sound like you had a bit of a problematic night," Sovereign's landlord noted as she stepped down the stairs, heading for the dojo. The red
haired woman was idly sewing as smoke lazily drifted upwards from her cigarette. She glanced up from her work, looking at Sovereign with those same piercing
blue eyes that'd practically drilled her to the spot the day she'd first come here to live. "Any problems I can help with?"

"No, not really," Sovereign replied. "But thank you for your concern," she replied honestly.

Touko looked at her for another long moment, before nodding slightly. "Whatever you say," she said, and that was the end of it.

Walking to the dojo, Sovereign mentally remarked on the fact that that represented a significant change in attitude from their first meeting as it was. Touko
had hardly intended to do her any favors when they'd first met...

***

"Go ahead," the red haired woman had scowled at her, ponytail lashing slightly behind her as her blue eyes seemed to evaluate Sovereign like some
kind of wild dog. "Give me a reason not to turn you into the police. Or some other hero. It'd be inconvenient for me, but I moved here to get away
from all the chaos and live a nice, quiet life."

Sovereign sized the woman up, trying to think if she could perhaps intimidate her into letting her stay here for a night at least, but her threat analysis
rebounded off the scarlet haired woman. By mere appearance, she was no threat. Average height, messy long red hair tied back into a ponytail, average clothing,
albeit cut to reveal an above average degree of physical attractiveness. Glasses indicated she was probably near-sighted, as she'd set them aside when
Sovereign had burst in, and the cigarettes smouldering in an ashtray nearby as well as one sitting in her lips meant she'd probably have less endurance
than the average person to boot.

But Sovereign's instincts kept going over to the closet, and a traveling suitcase she could barely see in it. If she attacked this woman, she was dead,
because of what was back there. She didn't know what it was, but her instincts had never guided her wrong in combat, to the point some of her instructors
had mistaken them for the rare precognition reflexes that randomly seemed to manifest in some Scimitars.

Still, she needed some place to rest, and the minute she left this house, the woman would call the police and in her exhausted state, Sovereign would most
definitely be caught. She did not know where some of the Sabres that might take her in were, and couldn't rely on the chance they might find her in time.
Reluctantly, she began to draw her sword...

"Touko, what's going on?" a soft voice spoke up as both Sovereign and the woman, presumably Touko, turned to look at the door as a younger woman
dressed in simple clothes and a red jacket came in, a bag of groceries in one hand. Touko's eyes narrowed slightly as if her position had been compromised,
while Sovereign's instincts screamed at her that she was trapped, that of the two people she was between, the new arrival was far more dangerous. Slightly
over five foot, dark hair in a near-pageboy cut, and soft, light skin on a face with remarkable gray eyes. Eyes Sovereign found herself staring at for a
moment, as they reflected nothing, like a well so deep she couldn't see the bottom. She was leanly muscled from regular training, but otherwise entirely
normal. Yet everything in Sovereign screamed that she was trapped between the hammer and the anvil and that even if she hadn't been, if she antagonized
this girl, she was almost assuredly dead.

"It's...nothing, Shiki," Touko spoke up, with the sound of someone coming to a decision. "This woman was just thrown out of her old home and
was looking for a place to get shelter from the cold...I decided to let her stay here since she wandered into our door."

Shiki looked at her for a second, before smiling slightly. "That's unusually nice of you, Touko. If you're not careful, you'll lose your
reputation as a cranky old witch."

Touko snorted in amusement. "I have my reasons. Go ahead and put the groceries away and I'll see to getting her settled."

Shiki nodded and headed into the kitchen, though not without a curious glance at Sovereign. However, once she got to the kitchen, she shut the door behind her.

Touko sighed heavily, standing up as Sovereign waited, on edge. The red haired woman waved her worries away with a hand. "I said I'd let you stay
here, and I will. But there will be consequences if your trouble follows you here, understand? I came here to retire. To live a nice, normal life. And most of
all, I came here to get her away from this kind of bullshit. So you go dragging any of that onto my doorstep, and I will make sure you regret it for the rest
of your life. Which may be longer than you'd expect, but longer than you'll wish it was when I'm through with you."

Sovereign nodded, standing up and beginning to open her mouth, before Touko cut her off.

"Don't thank me. I don't know you and I don't want to know you. I don't want to know your troubles, your sob story, or any of your
baggage. This is purely because any other alternative would be more inconvenient for me at this point. So just go upstairs and pick out a room. I highly doubt
you have any belongings with you."

Sovereign nodded, stepping upstairs without another word, hearing Touko sit down heavily behind her and mutter a curse about her bad luck.

***

As Sovereign stepped into the dojo, she unconsciously removed her shoes before padding over next to where Shiki was kneeling in silent meditation, the
gust of wind through the back sliding doors that were hidden from the streets causing her hair to move occasionally but otherwise giving no indication that the
yukata clad young woman was anything other than a statue. Sovereign knew that she'd been identified the minute she'd stepped foot inside the small
dojo, but when Shiki had heard that she was a fighter of sorts, she'd offered the use of the place over Touko's objections.

Since then, Sovereign and Shiki had sparred all of twice, and Sovereign was aware that her initial instinct had been correct. Shiki had the training, the
muscle memory, and the smooth movement of someone who had used her art for more than just a sport. But there was no killing intent in their spars, and they
were essentially evenly matched, so Sovereign hadn't pressed it further than that. Shiki herself seemed to use the dojo more as a spot to meditate than as
an actual practice ground, which Sovereign could appreciate. Shiki's skills seemed as much a part of her body as Sovereign's own pre-programmed close
combat engrams were a part of her. Practice could hone them to an invisible edge, but they would never rust from lack of use. While the fact that Shiki had
such deadly skill yet seemed as far from a killer by inclination as one could be was a puzzle Sovereign had yet to truly tackle, it was also one that was, for
the moment, irrelevant.

Taking in the familiar sight of the strange sword rack on the far side, a single katana in its scabbard and a pair of crossed knives sheathed below it,
Sovereign closed her eyes and let herself drift to the closest thing she felt to peace in her life these days.

***

"This is Crey Sweeper Team 2-A, we've lost the target again. She must have some kind of bolthole around here, because she keeps disappearing,"
the agent absently spoke into her communicator. "I don't see how she slipped away this time, though. We had six teams tracking every move she made. We
could've used line of sight to triangulate her position manually," she grunted.

Touko watched them from her front porch as they mulled about in confusion. They felt they were getting closer, which was why they were still following the
young girl, despite her returning home hours ago last night. Yet they'd found nothing with all the equipment they'd brought with them. Touko smiled
slightly at that. It pleased her to see that her work was up to par, as she'd had hardly anyone to really test it against. Truthfully, these technological
goons were hardly ideal tests against her skills, but it was a good start, and if no one ever really tested how hard Touko'd made herself to find,
she'd be very happy. Because that would mean no one had yet realized she and Shiki had left. Which was all to the good.

Lighting up a cigarette, she turned and went back inside.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[OpMegs]

Irene smiled at AJ as she stepped into the store, the bell over the door jingling with seasonal cheer as she walked past several customers looking through
various lingerie and yet again pondering where she'd gone wrong with her life that she visited a place like this more for espionage than to get something
nice to treat her boyfriend to....if she'd ever had a boyfriend. Really, it was almost depressing. She didn't even notice a black sedan pull in
across the street as she entered the rear elevator, heading down into the secret portions of the store.




"I'm getting worried, Sylia," Irene said without preamble as she strode into the other woman's workshop. She spared a quick glance and nod
at Nene, who was seated at a computer console, ostensibly running diagnostics. Irene suspected the redheaded hacker was long finished with those and was
simply killing time, but that was Nene for you.




"Why is that?" Sylia replied, straightening up from her position at one of the diagnostic consoles.




"Other departments are getting crowded in there," Irene said, waving her arm in Crey's general direction. "And all my recent data points
to something big on the horizon."




Behind her, Nene spluttered and coughed. Irene and Sylia turned and raised eyebrows.




"Dammit, not while I'm drinking," Nene muttered, setting down her soda.




"What's so funny?" Irene wanted to know.




Nene shot her a look. "Just tell me you're not about to mention a Twinkie."




Irene shared a baffled glance with Sylia. "Um... no?"




"Never mind, then," Nene sighed, turning back to her workstation and shaking her head.




Irene stared at her back for a moment, then shrugged it off. Hackers. "Anyway," she continued, turning back to Sylia, "I dug up what I
could, but that's not much, unfortunately," Irene frowned as she sat down. "This entire operation was apparently operating out from under my
oversight, which is worrying. It means they're starting to worry about internal espionage at best, or actual sabotage and infiltration at worst."
She slid a few dossiers between herself and Sylia on the table, the older woman taking a look at them.




In Sylia's opinion, the files were about as expected, yet simultaneously less detailed than she'd hoped. From what her other sources had mentioned, a
large portion of the the facility itself was simply gone, so the fact that Irene had gotten this much was impressive. Still, it would have to do, in
conjunction with what Sylia had gotten out of Sovereign regarding the rest of her team. The rest of her family.




"Unit 31JK5I, specializing in distraction efforts and support abilities," Irene began, opening a file with a near sky blue haired woman with
somewhat differently tinged blue eyes. "Classifies as an Illusion/Force Fields Controller under FBSA classification, and apparently was close to full
completion." The young woman had called herself Breaker, according to Sovereign, and had been a bit of prankster. Always ready with a quip, or using her
powers for her own personal amusement. She'd been off to the side of the main group, but only because she had been suspicious of others' good nature
since she'd been decanted. Getting her to accept the small group as family had been an accomplishment Sovereign clearly felt proud of, even if she'd
not seemed to feel anything as she told Sylia about her.




"Unit J1BLI1, specialized in support. Utilizes a unique new variant of nanoculture similar to the originals mounted on Nano Sabre's gauntlet. This
is far more elaborate, however, and can be used to regenerate the user as well as those around her. And the variety of effects has been updated far beyond
simple damage." Violet, a shy young girl who was about as home on a battlefield as a churchmouse in the open jungle. However her inclinations, Sovereign
thought she was braver than all the rest of them combined for suppressing that feeling and going into combat anyway, which Sovereign had realized was for the
sake of everyone else. This had made her ideal for intelligence gathering, though no one had expected her to throw herself between the escapees and their
Crey pursuers. Between that and what Sylia had been able to dig up from Crey files regarding the facility that they'd escaped from, as well as
Violet's equipped weapons, she suspected most of the structural collapse was her work. A fitting last stand.




"Unit I945I, a frontline attacker. There's some odd mention of "unique genetic structure" and "ether manipulation
concentrations". From what I can tell, she was an attempt to engineer magic into their new lines which didn't work out. Standard close combat skills
with dual blades and some regeneration," Irene said, passing over an image of a woman with long lavender hair and unusual, vaguely artificial looking
eyes. Sylia considered the picture as she called to mind the reliable and quiet woman that had nonetheless been Sovereign's principal rival during
training. Stronger than she looked, protective of Violet, and unfortunately the recipient of most of the guards' lecherous attentions due to her body
which had been endowed as if someone had been designing a supermodel rather than a soldier. Her nickname, "Rider", had resulted from this before
any of them had understood the implications of the guards' comments, but by then, it was almost impossible to think of her as anything else, so the name
had stuck.




"Unit KF8J1B1, rear fire support. Wide variety of energy projection and manipulation abilities, all tied back to molecular manipulation," Irene
noted. "How they managed to narrow that down to energy blasts and temperature manipulation is beyond me. But apparently she was something of the other
strategist of the unit, serving as Sovereign's backup." And more than that, though Sovereign hadn't said anything. She'd described Ruby much
the same, along with her reliability and sharp intelligence, as well as a teasing wit. But as much as Sovereign had been somewhat pained in discussing the
others, Ruby was a jagged wound in the girl's recent memory even more than any of the others. Sylia hadn't pressed the issue, but had her suspicions
about whether they simply hadn't had the time, in their short lives, to realize what they'd meant to each other.




Unaware of Sylia's internal thoughts, Irene continued, looking up at her. "There weren't any other files I could get a hold of without raising
suspicion. As Sovereign's known to have escaped, everything on her is restricted beyond my level of access, and everything else hasn't been
widespread beyond the cleanup division, for some reason. I don't know if this means they're potentially alive or if the technology itself hasn't
been recovered from the wreckage or what. More worrying is the fact that they've either got their own separate supply line or they're building them
differently." At Sylia's questioning glance, Irene sat back. "Basically, the Scimitar units are biomechanical, but there's a sizable amount
of artificial components that are necessary. You'll note that you're heavier than you remember being, for one, and your bones are stronger," she
said, receiving a nod from Sylia. "On top of that, all your musculature is artificial myomers and fibers that act like muscle but don't decay or
wear out nearly as quickly. Combined with some low level maintenance nanotech, you essentially self-maintain," she said. "But I have taps on pretty
much every supplier of the necessary materials...and the numbers for this new facility don't add up. They don't have enough here to make twelve
Scimitars, let alone the fifty some Sovereign identified as operating outside their group. Between that and scans of Sovereign, I think their new method is
actually a step forward and backward at the same time."




Sylia frowned in thought as she considered the implications of that. "Going back to Paragon Protector methods seems to be a step back, really, but I
don't see the advancement."




Irene set down another file on top of the previous ones, opening it up to a detailed view of the scans Sylia'd provided her of Sovereign. "From what
I can tell, they've gone with something that's more basic. The Protectors are clones of existing heroes. Identical in every way. These new Scimitars
are from a...a prototype mold. Someone whose genetics are suitably flexible enough to generate a large number of power templates by using fragments of
existing DNA that the principal source adapts to. Cybernetic enhancement as the growth continues further disguises the original genes, and the armor enhances
the existing abilities like they have as far back as Nene's, all of which makes them impossible to trace the genes to particular kidnapped victims. As
far as any DNA tracking would be concerned, these new Scimitars don't exist."




Sylia nodded. "That would explain the increased stealth capability, but it strikes me they'd be sacrificing something for this. What's the angle
of improvement?"




Irene slid a hand along the technical details. "It's more cost-effective, for one. I'm not up on the details of the Protector Project, but it
strikes me as utilizing some of their existing Project Locke gene sequencing and growth technology. They seem to have adapted the artificial components of
the 33-S designs as essentially undetectable cybernetics, and with a human base to work off of, no one's going to detect anything other than human blood
and tissue unless one of their Scimitars loses huge chunks of internal structure. Between that and using the hardsuits as amplifiers for existing metahuman
powers, they compartmentalize the ability for someone to trace back the systems. If you don't have the pilot, the hardsuit's useless. And when you
get to the pilot, you have existing cybernetic and biomodification which obscures the fact that the base organic systems were grown from the ground up, which
obscures the fact that the genetics are all remarkably regular. Beyond that, you'd need a specialist in genetics. I was able to get a little by showing
it to Reika and having people she trusted to keep their mouths shut examine it, but you need someone with a genetics or biomodification degree to sort out
the fine details," she admitted. "Hell, most of that analysis is outside of my fields of expertise. I'm a cyberneticist and AI specialist, not
a genetics expert. But, looked at logically..."




"...the pattern of effort seems more intelligent," Sylia completed with another nod as she grasped the connection. "They've gotten over
their awe of their shiny new toy and whoever's in charge has started seeing the applications of mixing technologies rather than keeping them separate.
Using one to cover the vulnerabilities of the other."




Irene nodded slightly. "I don't know much about the engineering aspect, but I do know about the relative stability. If they suspect
sabotage in the brain department, growing fully fledged humanoids means they have to train and brainwash their Scimitars the old fashioned way....but
it's less prone to failure before it even becomes viable for a Scimitar unit like their AI. Even if they don't suspect sabotage, from their
viewpoint, their AI based brains are finicky and problematic. Better to go back to the old methods."




Sylia tilted her head in acknowledgment, contemplating the situation, as well as what Irene hadn't mentioned. She didn't doubt the woman was being
completely truthful; Irene, unlike her sister, had no real talent for deception, at least compared to Sylia's ability to read people. Thus, it was
entirely likely she'd not found any indication of the young "Archer" that Neko had informed her of. Given that and the girl's story's
annoying inconsistency about how the Crey cleaners had mistaken a living body for dead... "Thank you, Irene. I realize this sort of thing must be
wearing on you besides avoiding attention from the higher ups."




Irene gave her a wry smile. "No more wearing than the nights out on the street on my sleep schedule. I'll keep an eye out for more data if I can
find it."




Sylia chuckled, standing up. "Of course. So, might I interest you in using your discount rate while you're here?" she noted with a somewhat
more mischievous glint to her expression.




Irene laughed. "Maybe...just maybe. My coworkers are all convinced that I'm in the middle of some secret love affair that's keeping me out all
night as it is."




"Well, if you like, I have a good deal of experience recommending intimate wear to those unsure of what they want...." Sylia offered as they
stepped out of the elevator.




"Maybe....ah, why not. It's not likely to see use any time soon, but I'm racking so much overtime I've got more money than I know what to do
with these days anyway..."




***




As Irene left the Silky Doll, she didn't notice the woman sitting in a car parked across the road. Truthfully, it's unlikely she knew anyone was in
it, given the tinted windows that were its only unremarkable feature. And even if she had looked closer, the shimmering electronic illusion played
over their surfaces would've shown nothing but the interior of a normal car, sans passengers, and certainly not a somewhat intimidating woman wearing a
dark black suit and sunglasses. Which left her observer able to watch her with impunity. The woman tossed a lock of her short red hair over one ear as she
tapped the two way radio earbud she was wearing. "She's leaving the store. Picked up a hot little number. Guess we still need to keep an eye out for
her boyfriend. I've been in there once or twice myself. If she bought anything, it wouldn't be just because she felt the need to feel pretty at night
with no one else to appreciate it. Not at those prices."




"I see. Keep an eye on her, but stay out of sight. She shouldn't notice you, but if she does too early, it'll be problematic."





"Yeah, yeah, boss. I got it," the watcher noted, rolling her eyes.




"Good. Maya will be by to relieve you in the evening," he said, and then the earbud went silent.




"Sheesh. He doesn't take even stuff that may go nowhere like this for granted, does he?" she frowned, before turning on the car and slowly
setting off in the opposite direction that Irene had left on.




***




"Yeah, yeah, boss. I got it," the radio crackled.




"Good. Maya will be by to relieve you in the evening," he said, setting down the receiver before looking up at the woman across from him. That
they'd met was a bit of a stroke of fate for him. Their goals aligned, but their backgrounds couldn't be more different. Yet, with her knowledge
and power base, it was entirely possible this gambit would succeed.




For her part, the lady stared across at him with eyes that had lost none of their laser like focus since that first meeting. Her long white hair draped
over her shoulders like she was some fairy tale princess, further enhanced by her aristocratic bearing and the old styled chair she sat in behind her solid
oak desk. For his part, he felt rather like a supplicant rather than a conspirator in this position, but that mattered as little to him as it did to her.




"One hopes this actually has a chance of going somewhere," she said coolly. "We've been working together for nearly half a year now, and
you have yet to show any true results."




"Such is the nature of intelligence work, milady. Regardless of whether it's governments or corporations, if our spies are detected and silenced,
there's no chance of finding what you want," he said in return. "I understand your impatience, but note that this is actually rather fast. I
doubt my assets would've been sufficient to get wind of this if you hadn't had shared what your connections allowed you to be privy to."




"For someone with such a professed skill in espionage, you seem to cloak most of your assurances with promises and no hard facts to back them, Mr.
E," she noted, with a wry look crossing her face at the pseudonym he'd contacted her under. "If the board of directors or, worse, the
Countess got wind of what I'm helping you do, I highly doubt that even Crey's rather lax opinions of internal divisions would keep me safe from
their wolves. And if I have to cut my losses, you're one of the least necessary loose ends at the moment," she added.




E let himself smirk ever so slightly. Just enough not to risk her temper. "Understood, milady. I only ask that you be a little more patient. If my
spies have gotten the right of this latest disaster, I think we may be drawing close to what I need to get you what you want. At which point, as promised,
I'll support you. No one will get in the way of you and the ones responsible."




The lady shifted slightly, eyes narrowing at the language used. "That is a vague promise, E."




E smiled. "I'm risking as much as you are in this little play, Lady Iris. Sometimes the best way to keep your enemies in the dark is to do the
same to your allies."




She scowled at that. "One hopes that it does not become a habit. Or your allies may wonder what benefit the alliance is to them in the future."






"Of course, milady."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[OpMegs]

It was almost nostalgic, Sylia had to admit.
She hadn't been in a bar with a scruffy man talking about secrets that
could kill them both in so long.
For her part, she was wearing
the lengthy silver hair and more overly sexualized attire of "Sari
Gintyl", the alias she'd originally created upon arriving in Paragon to
evade Crey detection. Since then, it had become a useful tool when she
wanted to have a face to face meeting with one of her Sabres who had yet
to earn the level of trust needed for Sylia to reveal herself.
Similarly, it made potential damage like what had nearly revealed Nene
back in Megatokyo less likely. And, of course, meetings like this were
much easier to arrange. Thus, Sylia had selected a rather slinky black
number that didn't reveal that much of her bust but had a plunging back
that was just revealed beneath the short dress jacket she'd added on top
of it. The slit up to mid thigh revealed legs that went all the way up,
while her back length silver hair had a decorative blue ribbon tying up
a bit of it in the rear. Assorted jewelry complemented the look to the
point Sylia was certain she could pass for a high class escort if anyone
were to pay attention to her.
Across the table from her, her
discussion partner was less stand-out, wearing mostly standard formal
tuxedo fare. His hair wasn't perfectly arranged, and longer than
average, tied back in a short pony tail. Combined with a face that,
while clean-shaven, suggested the wearer was more used to a five-o-clock
shadow, it added a sort of rakish charm to him that Sylia could
appreciate, even if it didn't do anything for her for a variety of
reasons. She imagined Linna would find him dreamy and resolved never to
let them meet. The studious imperfection of his appearance screamed
"smooth operator" to her, right down to the casual flirtation they'd
exchanged before getting down to business. If she closed her eyes, she
could almost believe she was working across the table from Fargo again.
"So
your employer is interested in providing us with a job? I do hope you
realize the Sabres don't do promotions or endorsements, for obvious
reasons," she smiled.
"Indeed," he chuckled. "Besides, I doubt
we'd want our label slapped all over your armor any more than you would.
Rather, we have a bit of a Crey problem and are hoping you can help us
with it," he smiled easily. "Especially since the recent unfortunate
collision between you and their follow-up imitators."
"You're
remarkably well-informed, Mr. Kaji," Sylia said honestly. Most of that
particular crisis had been hushed up when implications of Crey interests
manipulating the situation had come to light. Thus, any real
investigation had not made it into public light. As this was to the
preference of parties on all sides, really, Sylia hadn't pressed the
issue.
"My employers keep an ear out for certain things. Your
actions could be seen as sort of an....audition in advance." He raised
his hands in a warding gesture at her glance at that. "We didn't have a
hand in that particular mess, but we were watching to see how it went.
You notably came out smelling like roses despite the ambiguity of your
intentions."
"An interesting turn of phrase," Sylia said
pointedly, eyes narrowing. Normally, the reaction was more than she'd
actually go for, but with this disguise, it was better to react more
normally.
"An accurate one. Your group has behaved suspiciously
even by most hero standards. The investigation wasn't the first one
suggested. Merely the first one to get approval due to the pressure from
above. You're not so naive as to assume everyone takes you at face
value?" Kaji asked, a hint of a smirk on his face.
Sylia raised
an eyebrow. For someone selling cooperation, he'd not so much as
flinched from that opinion when she seemed to get irritated. A test?
"No, I suppose not. So what kind of cooperation are you planning?"
Kaji
leaned back, glancing about as he tossed a handful of change into the
ashtray between them, Sylia catching the one coin not quite minted by
the US government in the pile. "Simply put, we're aware of a recent
upswing in Crey activity. They're tightly compartmentalized, with
individual operations so far apart they can get into turf wars over
resources before they realize they're on the same side. However,
recently, something big happened. One project group's base went down in
flames, figuratively speaking. The people that followed behind have some
serious pull with the Board, though, because that thing's pulling in
twice the resources it did before. Beyond that, we don't know anything."
"And
you need some deniable assets to investigate it," Sylia said, before
raising an eyebrow as the man shook his head.
"We need you to
pressure Crey on other sides, but leave that one alone. The more
pressured they feel, the tighter security gets, and nothing will make
them feel safer than to see the Sabres, who they know hate them,
focusing on other branches. It makes them overconfident, so we can start
getting some solid intel."
Sylia glanced at him, tossing a bit
of her hair over one shoulder before her gaze went from "casual" to
"piercing". Kaji simply took it in stride as she steepled her hands.
"Your desire to see us not interfere that much.....is rather suspicious.
Hoping to get out with a few secrets you'd rather we not know about?"
she asked.
"More like this is a messy situation we don't want any
more elements added to," Kaji admitted. "You're not the only one that
might make a move. This is some deep stuff you've gotten your crew
involved in, and my backers aren't the only ones looking into it.
Really, if we come across something that needs to get to you, we'll let
you know."
"A rather uneven cooperation," Sylia noted, before
nodding. "But it requires nothing from us we wouldn't already do. You
have a deal for now, Mr. Kaji."
He smiled back at her.
"Excellent. I'm sure my employers will be happy to have your
cooperation. Incidentally, have you tried the scampi here? It's really
quite good..."
***
"Status."
The one report that
Engineer Carlson didn't want to deliver was requested by the deep tones
of his new supervisor. For two seconds, he considered his chances of
running for the door now, but a quick glance over his shoulder put that
to rest. He'd be dead before he reached the door, and maybe they
wouldn't take out the bad news on him.
"Response from the ground
penetrating radar is steady, but beyond a certain point, we can't detect
anything but the tunnels, and those are a total maze. Inspections on
foot have met with considerable casualties, but we don't know to what.
People just...drop off the grid," he said, waiting for the explosion.
"Interesting.
Our little sleeper is defending herself even if she's not awake yet, is
she?" the Director observed, steepling his fingers before him on the
observation railing. He was an unnaturally tall man in an atypical black
Crey science uniform that hung off his broad shouldered form like
something more appropriate to a funeral than a lab. Somewhat unkempt
brown hair framed an intelligent face with unnervingly piercing gray
eyes that were presently locked on the screen depicting the lower depths
of what had once been one of Crey's most elaborate biotech labs.
"Karen, what do you think of the likely areas for the central core to be
located?"
"I would say there," the white haired woman standing
behind him noted, highlighting a segment of the screen from her pad.
"The disappearances have been the worst around that location, in a
radial pattern."
The Director nodded at her, before looking up as
a siren blared.
"We have an intruder in the first line of sentry
markers, sir!" Carlson said, a glowing red dot darting quickly across
the screen, headed right for Karen's projected location.
"Interesting.
Heading right for the danger zone. What does she know that we don't?"
he wondered, watching the dot move. "She never triggered the outer
perimeter of security."
"She, sir?" Karen asked politely, raising
an eyebrow.
"Yes. Our security teams seem to need to scrape off
another kill silhouette. The only way one could evade the outer shell of
security is if they'd been there since before it was placed. Which
leaves either our personnel, all of whom have been accounted for after
the collapse, or one of the experiments. And if she's been down there
the entire time and hasn't checked in, that means she was one of the
ones that escaped from the facility," he explained. "Given the likely
origin of the core, it's entirely possible she's trying to save it."
***
Rider
leaped from rock to uneven ledge to side wall and further forward. If
she'd been human, she'd have lost track by now of how long she'd been
hiding in the wreckage of the complex, waiting for her chance. Watching
for a point to punch through their security. And she'd been watching for
news of the situation below the surface. She'd known it should have
been hopeless, but something in her had been unable to give up on the
possibility that Violet had survived the collapse. A darker part of her
mind noted that if the younger girl hadn't, Rider might possibly prefer
being caught and killed by Crey down here.
Still, she was almost
there. At full repair, her suit would've been able to simply elevate
above the wreckage and fly the rest of the way there. As it was, her
self-repair systems were overtaxed as it was, so she was simply using
short bursts of flight-assist to propel herself forward, saving her
power cells for potential fights ahead.
Around her, she felt
more than saw the shifting tendrils of nanotech. Unlike they had been
before, these had the color of dried blood shot through the deep black
of the greater mass. She'd learned to avoid them, after losing a few
inches of armor to one....and seeing an entire Crey patrol devoured by a
swarm of them a few days later. The things had pulled them apart...but
left nothing behind. Rider theorized that it was just the distance
involved. Violet was likely so spread out amongst these tendrils she
simply didn't recognize it was her, or possibly wasn't even in control
of them at the moment. Either way, Rider had to get to her....the real
her...and the closer she got, the more the certainty that Violet was
alive solidified.
As Rider passed the third set of beacons, not
caring what Crey she lured in behind her, she began to dodge and weave,
avoiding the lumbering but clumsy tendrils that could have smashed the
agile woman flat with a mere flex of their weight if they'd connected.
Ahead, always ahead, was the beacon, the certainty. The feeling that she
couldn't describe even to herself. She could feel her....feel
Violet...and she was going to get her back.
***
Pain...it
hurt so bad that she'd almost forgotten what feeling good felt like.
All she'd known was the pain and the danger.
The crawling things
about are dangerous. She'd reached out, stopped them, and the pain had
gone away a little bit. She doesn't know why. But she kept doing it.
Little by little, it made a difference. Little by little, the hurt had
gone away. Now one of them is getting close. Getting too close to her.
She doesn't want that. It will hurt her. Hurt her when she's almost
ready. The one coming for her was more dangerous than any of the others.
It was strong and fast and getting closer every second. She couldn't
crush it. The pieces of her closest to it were strong but sluggish.
Nothing had gotten this close, so they hadn't been adjusted to the
smaller, more nimble versions that caught things near the outside.
The
intruder reaches her with ease, but stops just short of her center. She
lashes out. She's so close, so close to being whole again... But the
intruder flits away out of her reach, before coming back. What is it
doing? What does it want with her?
It's only then that she
notices the noises. The intruder is making them. Words. Speech. They
seem familiar but she's been here so long that her memory is hazy. But
one word resonates with her. The intruder repeats it over and over. It
has a meaning she's nearly forgotten.
She hesitates. The intruder
steps forward, repeating the word. She panics and a new group of
tendrils explode outward, faster than before. They wrap around its arms
and legs, and she feels the hints of safety again. She'll absorb this
one like all the others and then she'll be safe. She pulls it closer,
and it says the word again, one last time, like a prayer, and for once
she can make it out distinctly.
Violet.

That...voice.
That name. She knows it and the tendrils slow to a stop.
She
hears it and they loosen their grip.
She comprehends it and the
memories smash through the pain like a bursting dam...
***
A
tall, scary looking woman with strange, inhuman eyes.
Ruby says
her codename is Bellerophon. Sovereign isn't scared, but she knows
Violet is. The tall one seems almost surprised when Sovereign steps
between them. She kneels down and speaks to Violet. Gently, quietly.
Almost timid. It's Violet's first real impression of her. A gentle soul
in a body of steel.

***
The guard comes again,
looking for Violet. He's come many times, smiling, leering. He gets
closer than she likes. Knows she's not sure enough to call security on
him. Even if she's uncomfortable. This time, he tries to touch her. And
finds his wrist wrapped in supple yet firm steel, like a clamp. He finds
himself staring into eyes that trigger an atavistic fight or flight
reaction. Flight wins, as he decides not to risk the chance that her
value to the company exceeds one maimed guard. He leaves, his voice
insulting as if to save face. She doesn't hear him. She's too busy
looking at the strong back of her protector.
***
Violet
finds it hard to sleep alone. Before, she'd always curled up with Ruby,
but lately her sister has been giving off signals that Violet should
try to find a bed to herself. Violet thinks it may have something to do
with how she's been looking at Seiba. Breaker's too touchy to try, and
both Duo and Archer aren't around due to training schedules. Violet pads
across the barracks and decides to risk snuggling up next to Rider,
against her back. The tall woman stirs and looks over at her. She starts
to back away, apologizing, before strong, long arms draw her back,
enveloping her in their warmth. In safety. She falls asleep easily to
the lullaby of even breathing and Rider's steady heartbeat...

***
Rider
could feel the nanites begin to devour her suit, but she continued to
call out to the bulging form in the middle. She said her name again and
again, hoping...believing she wasn't gone. The gurgling mass would be
the site of her goal, or it would be her grave.
The core rippled
as it drew her in, almost ready to absorb her completely. She was there.
Rider knew she had to be there. "Violet....please..." Her last words,
possibly, but she didn't regret them....before the pull stops. As the
grip loosened, Rider was surprised enough that she landed on her well
shaped rear rather than her feet. As she watched, the bulbous pitch
black core swelled on one side, a massive bubble that suddenly burst.
Only Rider's preternatural reflexes allowed her to catch the flying
form, pale skin and dark purple hair visible through the bits of grime
sticking all over her. The gunk still clinging to Violet wriggled like a
living thing, but Rider was too busy hugging the younger girl to
notice. She doesn't say anything but her name, over and over again,
because that's all she can say right now.
Dislodged rubble,
however, triggered instincts in both of them, Rider scanning the horizon
as Violet looked around their immediate area. "We can't stay here,"
Rider said, getting a nod from Violet. The younger girl reached down,
touching the slime that's all around them as it bubbled and flowed
around her smeared skin, forming a patchwork of armor that eventually
sealed into a dark colored helm around her face. She tried not to waver
as it finished, but Rider could see that it'd taken quite a bit out of
her just to do that much.
"Ready," she said, as Rider nodded,
scooping her up in her arms and dashing for the exit she'd scouted out
weeks ago. The opening shots were easily dodged, and the entirety of the
trip was much easier for Rider now given the tendrils lying lifeless
and inert all across the hellish landscape that had been so dangerous to
traverse on the way in. Rider suspected that Crey hadn't expected that
particular result, as the security forces pursuing them were still using
the safe pathways their men had burned through the nanotech tangles
earlier rather than cutting across the dead lumps. A small blessing,
Rider considered to herself. For now, she simply focused on getting the
exhausted girl in her arms out and away from this place.
***
"Sir?"
He
didn't answer immediately, waiting, watching the screen as the two dots
slowly evaded the handful of icons indicating Crey security teams. Once
they vanished, he turned around to Karen, the woman wearing her typical
blank expression. Almost. His experience with her since she'd been
assigned as his aide showed him a number of minor cues that indicated
her confusion. "Yes, Karen?"
"Why did you allow them to escape?"
she asked, as several people around the control room froze at the
accusation, however mildly voiced. "The nanocolonies going inert once
the core was removed was a high probability result. Cutting our security
teams across the dead areas would have allowed them to intercept both
the escapees easily, and weighed down by her passenger and damaged
already to boot, Unit Bellerophon would've been a simple target to
recapture."
The director nodded casually as he listened to her
points, before crossing his arms behind his back. "You are correct that I
prevented our troops from recapturing them. However, our previous
results have proven almost decisively that reconditioning them is
pointless. It never takes. However, with the core removed, we have a
sizable sample of an entirely different renewable resource."  He smiled,
before turning to the monitor technician. "Carlson, bring up the sonar
array display."
The operator tapped a few keys, before blinking
at the same time as Karen as a massive sprawl, coating nearly the entire
collapsed pit of the former complex for nearly half a mile down was
revealed in the false color display. The director's smile didn't fade.
"With the core gone, the greater mass's sensor baffles are inoperative
as well as their self defense programs."
Karen nodded as she
looked over the extent of the nanotech infestation of the wreckage.
There were easily several metric tons of the material running throughout
the area. With proper equipment, they could collect enough of this
particularly virulent and hardy strain produced by Unit J1BLI1 and
reproduce it almost indefinitely. Perpetually, if they could reactivate
it and resume feeding it.
"One must always keep an eye on the big
picture."  The director smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.
***
Something
was strange. Touko wasn't sure what, but the careful arrangement of her
house was ever so slightly changed since she'd left to go antique
shopping.
It wasn't the living room. Though cluttered with the
various junk she inevitably acquired anywhere she moved, the room was as
she had left it: crowded and disorderly bookshelves, purchases from
curio shops scattered on open surfaces, cardboard boxes free standing
here and there, and a wall of old televisions, each tuned to a different
station and all set on mute for the moment. The kitchen, mostly used as
a dumping ground for the legion of take out boxes, TV dinners, and
whatever else she and Shiki use to fend off starvation given their
shared lack of any real skill in the culinary arts, was only changed by
the addition of the rice cooker that their houseguest had acquired for
the purposes of cooking the truly stupendous amounts of food she
consumed on a weekly basis. Shiki's room was as bare and ascetic as
usual, as was the apartment upstairs. Her workshop, tightly sealed and
warded, had been untouched since she was there last, the various dolls
and mannequins hanging from their positions on the wall opposite her
worktable. Her trunk was undisturbed, and unfortunately or not, no one
but she had been in her own bedroom for some time. There were times she
almost cursed that boy's luck.
By processs of elimination, she
found herself in the dojo, where she saw something she hadn't in months.
Shiki and the girl were both wearing traditional kendo garb and facing
each other on the mat. As Touko watched, her cigarette smoldering away
forgotten in one hand, the two clashed, faster than most masters of the
art would have thought possible.
Their styles were remarkably
similar in some respects. Both the girl and Shiki were not berserkers,
remaining calm at all times. But the differences were apparent when one
saw how they handled the training swords. The girl tended to block with
the entire sword, absorbing the impact and returning the blow with
crushing force, a style more suited to a European blade than the katana
the wooden bokken was intended to replicate. By contrast, Shiki's moves
were more fluid, dodging away from blows and counter attacking with
swiftness that would shame the wind. She circled, waiting for her
moment, then pouncing at the slightest opening. Unfortunately, her
opponent was more cornered lion than prey, and such attacks were often
brushed off and responded to just as quickly.
The match continued
along the established stalemate for some time until both lowered their
weapons at an unspoken signal. The girl smiled faintly, which was
returned by Shiki before the pair turned and noticed Touko for the first
time. "Oi, Touko," Shiki said by way of greeting as she mopped at her
forehead with a towel and tossed another to the other girl.
"Shiki,"
Touko nodded. "I thought you'd decided sparring wasn't worthwhile?"
Shiki's
smile was faint, but the amusement was real. "To determine our skills,
yeah."
"And this was?" the red haired woman asked, curious.
"Just
for fun," Shiki returned with another tiny smile, even as the girl
walked over, having filled three glasses from a kettle of water that had
been sitting by the side of the mat. Touko counted herself a better
than decent observer of people, and to say the girl had improved was
stating the glaringly obvious. When she'd first arrived on Touko's
doorstep, she'd been run ragged, her bearing that of someone hunted and
her nights haunted by dreams she confided the contents of to no one.
Even when awake, she'd been stiff and excessively formal. Touko'd made
some progress in getting the girl to lighten up (and vice versa,
considering Touko's initial negative opinion of the girl's impromptu
residence with them), but she'd been unable to help the girl shake that
haunted expression. Now, while there was still a hint of buried pain in
those intense blue eyes, she was more cheerful than Touko'd seen her
since their first meeting.
The girl nodded as she handed Touko a
glass, sipping with an understated elegance that belied how quickly the
water was disappearing into the obviously somewhat dehydrated fighter.
Finally, Touko spoke up, curious enough about the significant change to
toss her usual subtlety to the wind. "So, sparring seems to agree with
you."
The girl nodded. "It was Shiki's idea. I've never actually
tried using sparring as a way simply to enjoy myself. It was pleasant."
Touko
nodded, frowning slightly. Getting details out of this girl was about
as difficult as Shiki when she went into monosyllable and grunt mode.
She was about to excuse herself from the somewhat-awkward silence when
the girl looked up from her empty glass. "Touko, I believe I owe you an
apology. You've been nothing but accommodating to me, but I've hidden
much from you. Even my name. But while I can't reveal everything due to
prior obligations, I believe I do owe as thorough an explanation as I am
able to give."
The resulting tale took up the better part of an
hour, during which Touko's suspicions about the reasons behind Seiba's
(for that was their mysterious guest's name) haunted eyes proved to be
far, far too optimistic.
Touko hadn't been on particularly good
terms with her family and especially her younger sister, for some years.
But a small part of her still remembered younger, happier days when she
and her sister had been inseparable, and woe betide anyone who had
tried to do mischief to either. Before the family business came between
them. And before the Designation had put her on the run, unable to see
the rest of her family as well. Thus, it was with some slight jealousy
that Touko listened to Seiba describe her family's situation and their
reasons for planning their escape...and with sympathetic pain as she
described what that escape had cost her.
"She said there was a
chance that some of them might still be alive," Seiba said, frowning.
"But I don't have any clues to work with, and the trail seems to have
gone cold. I'm almost beginning to think that maybe those rumors were
really just more probable because I wanted desperately to believe that
they were still alive..."
At this summation of their guest's
situation, Touko and Shiki shared a significant glance, before Shiki
looked away first with an expression of exasperated bemusement. "He'd
come anyway, as soon as I mentioned this to him," she sighed.
Touko
nodded with a chuckle, lighting up again as she looked over at Seiba,
who was gazing at both of them in incomprehension. "Miss Seiba, I think
we know someone who can help you," she said, sliding her glasses off.
"You see, he has a talent of sorts for finding things..."
***
It
wasn't a particularly good looking bar, but neither was it
exceptionally run down. The plain wood tables weren't polished to a
gleaming shine, but there was something to their rough texture that
added character. And the bartender had had long experience with sliding
drinks along his bar, rough surfaces or not, and never spilled a drop as
he kept up with the two regular patrons that were currently the only
inhabitants of the quiet little pub. He'd mistaken them for a couple the
first time they'd come in, given the easy flirtation they indulged in.
The kind that didn't break any new ground but showed the pair knew each
other fairly intimately. He didn't listen to what they talked about, but
the friendly laughter and easy rhythm of old stories and new jokes was
familiar enough to him. It wasn't until the first time they'd drank that
now familiar toast that he'd realized the two would've been three if
they'd had any say in the matter, and that the missing third was as much
the reason they came here as anything.
"To absent friends," the
man said first, as he always did, raising the particular brand of beer
that had become as much of the ritual as anything, downing the thing in
one gulp.
"To absent friends," the woman returned, copying the
gesture before both slammed the cans down on the table, crushing them in
a single movement.
"You know, my coworkers consider me a morbid
son of a bitch for doing this every year," he said with a faint chuckle.
"At least, most of them do. Lance thinks it's some convoluted plan to
woo you, but then, Lance would think any particular method of wooing the
woman you're interested in is fair game. Even if he's hardly as
unleashed and free as he tries to act."
"Mmm. My coworkers that
know about it think I'm obsessed with working out what went wrong. They
try to tell me it won't bring her back," she replied, slightly
melancholy. "Most of them have stopped saying it out loud these days."
"They're
right," he pointed out. "Though I suppose if it's something you'd be
doing anyway, there's no real help for it. You've never been much for
moderation."
She leaned forward onto the bar, her fingers
twitching in a remembered muscle memory even if she hadn't smoked a
cigarette since the funeral. Some days she wished that she'd done it
sooner, as it'd saved her a lot of money in the long run, and who knew
how her risk of cancer'd gone down. Of course, the irony that she'd only
taken the other woman's advice after she was gone wasn't lost on her.
"My mother thinks that all it really shows is that my work ethic is
skewed. She's been on me for the last couple years to find a nice girl
and settle down like she did with my step-mother. If she only knew," she
chuckled, a touch darkly.
He heard the recrimination in her
voice but didn't say anything, raising two fingers and receiving a nod
from the bartender in return. "Hell, I didn't believe you when you
mentioned it for the first time. I'd known you were close...but then
again, drunken benders have a higher possibility of such things, I
guess, especially in college," he said with a lopsided grin, getting a
laugh from his companion.
"Would you believe the first time was
due to sleep deprivation more than alcohol?" she chuckled. "I was just
so exhausted after that particular cram session that I didn't bother
going back to my bedroom. Apparently, though, I wasn't so exhausted as
to not enjoy the moment...then again, she might've been drunk. I did
lose sight of her for a bit," she snickered.
"Mmm. Still, any
prospects?" he asked gently, gauging her reaction as she looked
thoughtful.
"Well, there is this cute little something down in
TechDiv 3, but I'm not sure it'd be fair to her. I mean, leaving aside
possible job hazards with my research, I'm still not sure I'm over her
enough to go looking for someone new. I'd hate to break the girl's heart
by letting her know a month down the line that she'd been a rebound
from a dead might've-been-serious," she sighed.
He nodded, before
both of them blinked at ringing phones in their respective pockets.
"Looks like work caught up to us," he smiled, getting a rolling of eyes
from her as she stood up and put down money for both their tabs. They
walked together to the door before turning opposite directions.
"See
you next year?" he asked.
"Same place, same time," she returned,
before both turned on their phones to answer the calls.
***
"This
is Kaji," Special Inspector Ryojii Kaji said as he opened the phone.
"The
boss would like a personal debriefing with you about your interview
with the contact," a soft, curt voice said.
"Right, I'll be right
there. Just wrapping up anyway."
"....I apologize for the
interruption," his teammate said, her voice filled with a sincere
regret.
"It's okay, Maiya. We're both professionals. We know how
work never really ends," Kaji said, disconnecting and sliding the phone
back into his pocket. Time to inform the big man of his prior
engagement's intentions.
***
"Dr. Akagi speaking," Ritsuko
answered.
"Ritsuko, I need you to come in a little earlier than
expected. We've had a few new arrivals that will need a quick looking
over," the elegant voice of her employer spoke up.
"Compatibility
tests?" she asked, curious.
"No, in this case, they brought
their own equipment. However, one is rather exhausted and the other not
much better. I'd like to make sure they aren't going to die outright
before introducing them to our other two prodigals."
"Part of the
same batch?"
"They do seem to match the descriptions," Reika
confirmed.
"I'll be right in, Miss Chang," she said, slipping
into "work mode" as she did.
"Thank you, Ritsuko. I knew I could
count on you," her employer smiled over the line, before hanging up.
Ritsuko
closed her phone, pondering the implications of that message. For a
group considered officially dead, this newest batch had proven
remarkably good at not dying. It seemed that Miss Chang's insistence
that Ritsuko learn the tools of her sister's trade in addition to her
own specialization in armor development and interfacing was proving
useful after all.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."