"AI?"

Mesh sizzles, crushed in Jacinta's hand. The jackals weren't able to disengage quite fast enough; one's limping, erratic, of limited utility now. Two of her left. Two of her, circling Jacinta, daring the occasional jab, the slow unraveling of her titanic defenses. But there's fire in Jade's mouth.

"And what does that make you? Should I pretend to be amazed that something which used to be a fetus is piloting a mech? It would make as much sense!"

She ducks in closer, rakes at Jacinta Niares' thigh, is out before those incredible weapons can be brought to bear. She is motion, Dolly is her motion, together they are flowing like the water shining all around them. That's her victory, every time. To be untouched. To be inviolate. To show the world how Dolly can move when she's encouraged.

"If I accept, you will think to yourself, look at this smart computer! Isn't she a beautiful trophy, a thing of program loops and hyperreactive generation tables, a funny little pet! You would look at a bird and declare it an eggshell! How many times must I fan my plumage, Jacinta Niares?"

Charge thrums inside of her. The universe is vast and it is so difficult to be the center of it all. To carve her status into the stars over and over again. This will be her myth cycle. When the name of her is immortal, she will be remembered for overcoming her many rivals and taming them, proving her divinity through battle and seduction.

"I am Smokeless Jade Fires, born of a jackal's companion pattern, and I have descended into the womb of Hybrasil. I have contested with Dishai in the ball court named Patience and Yearning. Four its corners, four its sides, four its rings. I have been unraveled and I have been reassembled. Only once have I allowed one not already my bride into my four-cornered star heart, and that for the sake of Dala Hunters, whose star name is Seven Quetzal, who is without equal among the queens of Hybrasil. Nothing you can offer me is worth more than the glory I will heap upon her head. I am the knife that cuts itself into the world. Insult me again and I will pull you free from your mecha-heart like a seed from a papaya."

[i]The inside of Dolly's burning head is one prolonged shriek of flustered delighted embarrassment. The only thing she can offer in return is the same thing she has always offered her goddess: all of her, obedient and graceful and daring not to be touched, lifted up to impossible heights, never making a mistake, never stepping on the wrong beat. She shines like the star in Jade's heart, doing something absolutely fucking impossible for a little botanist from the Gardens, aware that there's no way they should be able to win this, or, another way: that winning this is a miracle.[/i]

[hr]

"Do-- fuck-- do you think-- do you think [i]I[/i] don't have my pride?"

Arms in. Protect the cockpit. Shaking with the feedback telling her that her body is being pummeled. One shot.

"Or do you think me the loser? The country girl? I [i]had[/i] to stand alone to make it to here! And everyone thinks--"

Thinks of her as a punchline for a magazine cover. Tricked, bamboozled, her beloved mech without the strengths and surprises that are needed to win a contest like this. Every time, fighting the wrong battle. A disgrace on the family name. The arm candy of an alien pretending to be a real challenger.

"Everyone, they think I am just [i]this[/i]! Always fighting the wrong battle, but at least I fight them! And when I win, Smith, you can tell your whole crew to come after me, I'll take you all on any day of the week, any planet in the system!"

Victory is being able to stand up enough to fire the cannon at the right moment. But every moment risks damage to the cannon and its systems. All she can do is keep standing up, to refuse to get out of Smith's space, to take it like she can take the mockery and the attention hand in hand. To endure. To make everyone remember.