Anarion

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giri short - the danger of being a young witch

When Giriel was around fifteen, she felt like all her interest in her mom’s work, in the witch stuff she was doing wasn’t enough for her. She was fifteen after all, which is a typical age for questioning the boundaries of your world, and her mother had been somewhat careful, having a witch in training, to stick mostly to the countryside.

They had spent a year with the N’yari just before this, but Giri felt like she’d somehow missed out on the time. Her mom was honored among them, and also distant. Mom made a point of never fighting, never flexing, never being weak enough to be tied up or kidnapped but never starting the confrontation that would have forced her to overthrow someone else or be overthrown.

Giri had followed along, but she hadn’t understood it. Witches are special was about the extent of the lesson. She didn’t think the N’yari were reasonable, after all, she’d heard too many stories from too many farmers, and she’d seen them fighting and worshipping, drinking and dancing and sweating. Heard them too. They just didn’t involve her or her mom, and Mom liked it that way. Giri, being a dutiful daughter, simply followed along, matched the example. Mixed potions and did chores and cast simple spells for healings and blessings that the N’yari needed.

Then they left, and she felt like she’d wasted a year and hadn’t made a single friend. It hurt inside her. Was being a witch nothing but being everyone’s babysitter? Was she limited to just raising the younger kids, and giving the old men potions for their warts? She wasn’t a jerk, the old men needed wart potions, it made them a lot more comfortable and she understood that was a good thing to do! It just wasn’t…it wasn’t satisfying her and she felt like her heart was burning inside her chest.

So, of course, she did the thing that one does at age 15 in the countryside: she tried to seduce a young shepherdess. Not that she’d have put it that way! She was treating the sheep, they were in the rough, mountainous sections of the flower kingdoms, far from where most people lived. Giri met someone her age, they hit it off, she thought it was fun, spent more time together and, well, let’s back up.

Families were spread apart out here, a single house and then miles of fields all about. Giri and her mom were living with a family her mom knew from the past. A couple, now middle-aged, their son, age twenty, his wife, and their new baby. Two younger daughters, 15 and 12. And two old grandmothers who’d both lost their spouse. They had a house set just below a little cliff side in the mountains. The top of the cliff had one little old pine tree on it that was one third the size it ought to be because its roots had cut their way into the rock and they couldn’t get as big as they should, making it a natural bonsai. Below the cliff, the house sat in a little flat section of land that allowed for a few fruit trees and a barn before hitting the main path and leading back to the evergreens that wound their way down the mountain. They were on the east side of the mountain, so they got morning sun and the trees thrived well enough alongside the sheep pens. The mountain path wound past their house, dipping into valleys in either direction before winding up again, so they had to take the sheep each day to graze in the valleys and then bring them back up the road at night.

The family offered Giri and her mother free room and board in exchange for some simple magics. Easing the backaches of the old ladies, healing an injured sheep, and so forth. Some of the days, Giri and her mom would go together down one of the paths and walk a few miles to the next farmstead, offering their services for a little coin. On the weekends, they’d take a longer route, almost six miles to reach the nearest proper flower village, where they’d offer their services in the market, rain or shine.

It hadn’t taken long for them to divide and conquer. Mom would go one route, Giri the other, and they’d only go together on the weekends for the market. Giri was fifteen, already big and strong, and her mom was coming to grips that she needed to give her daughter more space and freedom, so this all seemed to line up.

So, Giri found herself leaving in the mornings with the older daughter, her name was Mizi. She’d be herding the sheep out to the valley, Giri to make the hike to the next farmstead. Mizi hadn’t had that big of a life. The most exciting thing she knew about was how to figure out which mushrooms were edible, which ones would kill you, and which ones you could eat a few of to make the world shift beneath you. She had the cutest black hair though, with just a hint of blue sheen that told you someone in her family had been from the sea folk long ago. And when she laughed, her cheeks would lift up and she would close her eyes like she was in ecstasy.

Giri loved making her laugh, lived for it on their morning walks. Started looking for gifts to bring her on the way home. First flowers for her hair, which she’d braid in at the temple sometimes. Then food. Giri brought some honey once, and some jams that one of the farmers had given her but that she kept secret for just the two of them to each in the field (her mom had been disappointed that she hadn’t brought back more that day, pickings had been light). Then she started getting more esoteric. She made things for Mizi. First a special shampoo with just a hint of magic to make her hair bounce, then some potions to try. She liked the mushrooms, so Giri made her something to see the little spirits that dwell all around and animate the rocks and trees and the weather and such, which was spectacular. Then it was a bargain with a spirit to carry them up to the mountaintop for the afternoon where they kissed as the cool breeze whistled past and the little pine tree kept the afternoon sun from troubling them.

For Giri, this was a little slice of heaven. Having the days with Mizi made the rest of her work bearable. She could keep her eyes open as she traveled for special ingredients for her spells, and that made being a witch a lot more fun than just healing sheep and making wart potions.

It was the N’yari that caused them trouble. A raiding party coming through the mountain trails spotted the two lovers giggling in a meadow, along with several choice sheep. The raiders took them unawares. They weren’t the same ones that Giri and her mom had stayed with before, and didn’t know they’d found a witch. They’d bound and gagged the both of them, taking them along with several sheep as a well-earned prize. Giri had to admit that she enjoyed being slung over a N’yari’s back with Mizi, but she was worried. She worried that they’d be found out, that her mother would be mad, that Mizi’s parents would be even more mad! She worried about the rest of the sheep, and the family. And she worried that Mizi would think she was stupid and worthless because she hadn’t been able to protect her.

By the time they were in the N’yari camp, Giri was beside herself. She’d been drawing symbols in blood on her own wrist with her nails as they’d travled and when the N’yari finally let them down, Giri struck. She stomped her foot and shouted “you, how dare you! We. Were. Busy!” And she let out a breath as a demon formed in front of her out a small whirlwind of butterflies and the sky grew dark.

She wasn’t ever supposed to use this magic, not even in defense. Witches learned demon summoning because you needed the principles to do demon Unsummmoning, and because a controlled demon summon did offer access to various sorts of knowledge and magical ingredients. But this was not a controlled demon summoning. The butterfly demon wasn’t even especially powerful as demons go, just a tiny facet of the soul of a facet of the soul of a facet of the soul of the great desert wind that blew unceasing through the hells.

But she was enough. N’yari raiders yowled and grabbed spears. The sky grew darker and clouded blocked the sun. Giri grabbed Mizi and ran as fast as she could, pulling her girlfriend along. Bloody ruins on Giri’s arm glowed with a slow pulsing for miles, until, presumably, the N’yari dispatched the demon and they faded, leaving darkened scabs.

When they finally got back to the fields and caught their breath, they found the sheep scattered, and Giri found Mizi weeping. “What was that? What was that?” She screamed, looking at Giri with terror in her eyes. Then she felt ashamed of her terror, and at the same time full of her terror and she cried again, hiding her face in her arm, her dress dirty and torn from the flight.

Giri didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t, this wasn’t how anything had been meant to go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was…trying to defend Mizi. She was trying to protect both of them. They could have been kidnapped a whole year! She didn’t want…she didn’t know. And being ashamed and being fifteen, she grew angry and proud and so said nothing as they got back.

Returning empty-handed and late they were met first with relief, and then with fear. Giri’s mother full well recognized the scabs on the arm and whisked her daughter away. Mizi simply cried in her parents’ arms.

When they were alone, outdoors in a cliff overhang down the path, Giri’s mother looked at her. For a moment her eyes were soft and shone with pity. But then she sighed and looked away. “We’ll need to leave” she said. “You stay here, I’ll get our things.” Then she left, came back a while later with all their travel bags, water skins, and a sack of food. “…did anyone die?” She asked, as they began walking down the mountain trail, and Giri could only say “I don’t know, I….we ran before I saw.” And then here Mother said nothing for a long time, which made Giri’s heart hurt fit to burst.

At last, she couldn’t contain herself, and stopping beneath a pine as the sun was setting, she turned to her mother. “What was I supposed to do?! I was in love with her and, we were taken, and tied up, and I couldn’t, I didn’t know what else to do!”

And all her mother said was “I know. When I did it, I stayed. Five N’yari were wounded. One won’t ever walk again. I was lucky.” She sighed again. “Being a witch means we don’t get the luxury of letting ourselves feel that strongly. If you get overcome, if you want something so badly that you stop caring about anything else, it will kill someone. I know you already knew the risks. But now you’ve seen them. Maybe…that will help.”

Then she shook her head and shouldered her pack, leaving Giri to her thoughts as the rain began to fall in the mountains.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Perhaps, if Giriel were herself a daughter of Heaven and rightful heir to the thrones of this world, she would step into the camp and shout, her voice full of thunder, for all of them to stop their foolishness at once. It's what she wishes she could do, even as part of her sees it as the greatest hubris.

She is, however, not such a daughter of Heaven, and she has no such power. Nor would she offer Zhaojun her own flesh under any circumstances. If she could get the mask to the Banneret, she would do that too and then let them all be tied up and taunted by N'yari. What a small price indeed to set Heaven's affairs aright!

She glances at the combat again. No, she would not interfere. She knew N'yari, at least ones who weren't secretly heavenly spirits in disguise. Trying to stop their combat would cause chaos. Breaking the ritual, several would likely interfere, the General might even have an easier time breaking free. The last thing in the world that Giri wanted was to make this space look more like a chaotic melee or heaven forfend a battlefield.

So instead, she calls out a greeting to the gathered N'yari as she steps into the camp. Nevermind the Banneret, let her make a fool of herself. Giri is here openly, a guest, an arrival, a witch. "I am the witch, Giriel Bruinstead, at your service" she calls, and bows in the N'yari custom. She is looking for who is in charge, who will come to her and ask what she's doing and tell her of what's going on. It might be the N'yari currently fighting, it often is. No problem if that's the case, let's see who she gets instead or if that even stops the fight briefly.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Valynia Bander, Once Huntress, whose star name is Gifted of Oaxacala

Today has been a good day.

Your heart beats in your chest. The jaguar priestess was so full of life. The way you feel together, you could feel the thump of her racing heart and the heat of her breath upon your face. It made your own heart race, your tail flick. It made you want to hold her close to you, to watch that whole body tense and relax as you drew your fangs along the neck, just enough to draw a drop of blood but no deeper, the scent intoxicating.

And yet, the goddess before you has threatened to crush the very stars that bless you, and you have come unprepared for such a threat. Your parents taught you to respect the gods, and though you have flown far from home and seen many suns, you have never lost that respect. The goddess of the hunt has blessed your eyes and your arms, but she is not here now to protect you and when Erys suggested this little visit, nobody thought to bring wardings.

Truth be told, the majority guess had been that they’d simply swagger in, ask the goddess her blessing, intimidate the engineering staff a little, and walk out with a good sense of the chassis and how easily the staff would be to manipulate later. Jumping up to the causeway when you caught sight of the priestess had been an impulse play. But you can’t say you regret it.

As you pad down the stairs, the taste of her hand lingers in your mouth, and in your ears echo the last words she spoke to you: I know her. Those were intimate words, words of a priestess most favored of her unique goddess. You’d take her symbolism, give it to Erys for her next match, see if they couldn’t bend that goddess in knots. If you all also sought the goddess of the hunt’s blessing of protection, then this lesser goddess wouldn’t be able to interfere spiritually either, only her body would be a threat in the ensuing combat.

Your tail flicks with the thought of it. Yes, let her rail and cry. But for all her threats she was a new goddess, lesser than the great pantheon of Hybrasil, and even they had at times been bound. The Red Band loved the story of when the goddess Macheka blessed her champion with a unique spiritual rope to surprise and bind her rival Caloa. Caloa had spent thirty nights and seven bound by the mortal before she had prostrated herself and bargained for her freedom, offering exaltation among the gods to the girl, now the goddess Irtana.

Now though, you have the unenviable task of convincing all your sisters to prostrate themselves. Perhaps if the goddess commanded it directly, they would all obey quickly enough, but this intercession is one only you heard.

You start with Erys of course, pulling her aside out of earshot in the hangar door, leaving the other four so they know you’re not leaving and explaining what was asked. Erys laughs of course, tells you not to be so superstitious, but you can see her eyes dart side to side as her instincts look for a safe place to leap to at the thought, and all it takes is you pointing out that this will give the whole Band good reason to seek “compensation” later and she’s in. She manhandles the rest for you as you return to the hangar space, and you all prostrate yourselves to the goddess, heads down, butts up, on your knees before her.

She’ll never see that you can’t quite keep the wicked grin off your face at all the fun you’re going to have with her priestess once you’ve got her. It will be you, of course. Erys may have the next match, but that means you’re free to lead the kidnapping afterwards.

Yes, today has been a good day indeed.

***

Mirror

There’s something about the tone and the smoothness as you bring her in that really gets Matty’s buy-in. Maybe she wants to buy in too, likes the fantasy and imagining the world as full of scary but also adventurous and exciting things. Either way, she meeps when you suggest the pirates, then blushes and comes in quickly and contritely, barely managing a squeaked hello. Her hand closes on the drink mechanically, and she takes a sip to help gather herself without even thinking about it.

Then she’s set up to give an introduction to Slate. She thinks for a moment, then bless her heart, offers a curtsy even though she’s in an engineering suit and holding a drink in one hand. “Um…h-hi. My name is Mattara Swimmer, Eight Cigni, but you can call me Matty. I work at Trosta’s armory on Akar II. I learned engineering back on Hybrasil, but I…um, never quite fit in there and I wanted to see more of the world, so when I heard they were recruiting Hybrasilian engineers here I thought it would be nice. And um I met…(she blushes here, remembering sitting with Mirror and being petted) Mirror earlier when she was visiting Trosta’s where I work, which um, I already said. She invited me here after I was done and also, um, since I was visiting anyway, Trosta sent me with some blueprint ideas for what she came up with. It’s pretty neat, I think. I helped!”

She grins, stopping there for a moment. She isn’t sure if she should just launch into the work stuff and is kind of hoping Slate will do a little self-intro in response of some kind. Maybe Mirror too for that matter, there wasn’t a lot of time before. She glances over, then covers the awkward silence by taking another long sip of her drink. She honestly seems like she’d be comfier sharing her thoughts from your lap, Mirror, but she’d also die of embarrassment at even the thought of suggesting it with your colleague present.

***

Solarel and Isabelle

Annika and Crescent bound their way up the floors after you. Crescent leaps on all fours and Annika bounds with great jumps that belie the strength of her thin frame compared to Solarel. You’re in the upper levels of the facility now, great holes gouged in the floors and all nearby nanobots too busy responding to Isabelle’s defense to engage in any repairs of the materials, leading the whole thing to look like a giant sheet of paper that someone punched a hole through the middle of. Bits of supercooled metal and rock are already scattered about from the ascent and initial defense.

The two watchers are barely gnats though, and they clearly don’t plan to intervene. They’re here to gather data and are enjoying themselves immensely.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Dolly
You see the Leopard hesitate. Her hand atop you goes stiff. For a moment all her muscles ripple and you’ve got nothing to think about but the scent of her sweat and the sound of her breathing. Instinct wars in her, the closeness to you, the desire to touch to press even as Jade’s words froze her.

Then she stands.

Jade

Your words echo out. Below the gangway the crew trembles and so do some of the Banders, but not all of them. Not the Jaguar who claims to be facing Dolly, she’s looking intently. And the Leopard…for a moment you’re not sure what she’s going to do. Not sure what else you could say to move her. You can tell she’s having a physical reaction to being near Dolly, you’re aware of Hybrasilian biology, so you wait and your patience is rewarded.

She stands.

Dolly and Jade

“Forgive me, priestess.” The Leopard smiles. Everything about her screams wild energy, just barely restrained. She slowly takes your hand, glancing up at Jade to ensure she has not erred. Lifts it and kisses the back of your palm, just barely nipping the skin with her fangs. “I presumed overmuch” she says formally, the way her parents must have taught her. “And I beg your forgiveness.”

She waits, then for your intercession. But see the Banders below, how their eyes shine. Jade’s threat is in the open. A threat to their birth stars, yes, a very serious threat in response to her high priestess being under threat. See them considering their mythology. Think back on your own Hybrasilian mythology. If the high priestess is this valuable, her symbolism will be a ward against Jade’s wrath in the future. If the high priestess is this valuable, her absence would cause the goddess great lamentation. If the high priestess is this valuable, then there may be other priestesses to set against her, and other gods who would favor the Banders. Hybrasilians always have favored freedom and many a goddess would offer her favor and protection to those who hunt with no restraint, seeking victory with all their might.

Well, high priestess, what is your intercession?

***

Mirror

Slate frowns when you tell her of the sounds. She’s sitting now like a lily suspended on the water, both legs up on the cushions, head up, lost in thought.

“How would they know? The Hangar’s full of engineers. There’s gonna be buzzing and clanging. There will be the low rumble of the transports, and the pounding of mecha feet steel upon steel.”

You can see Slate losing herself in the sound of the hangar, the experience of it. There’s a song in her head, a quickening one. “The lights hum in B flat minor, slightly out of tune, you hear it going all the time, but you tune it out. The chatter fades into a hum, rising and falling, there’s a crescendo to it, matching the timing of the shuttles, concentrating and spreading. There’s the hum of the crystal fire, muted, but you can feel it even through all the protection, the power coursing through each metal shell, giving it life.”

She’s vibrating as she thinks. You can see her thinking in tune to the life in the Hangar, the days spent on repairs, supervising crews, standing on the balcony and feeling the space waft up to her.

“Timing. It’s not the sound, it’s not that you couldn't hear anything there, but the timing would be off. There’d be something discordant, not in line with the rhythms of the space, someone changing the space, right, they have to do that constantly, it won’t rise and fall the way that people move normally. That’s what we’ll ask the crew, if there was something nagging them, the mosquito of the Hangar.”

She opens her eyes, looks at you, Mirror. “Can’t say there’s nothing I’m good at. I’ll leave questioning the criminal underworld to you when you feel like it, boss. I’ll talk to the crew tomorrow. There’s figuring this out and there’s preventing it happening again. And I don’t think a lock on the cockpit will do the trick, even a really good one.”

She grins, and that’s when you hear a knock at the door. Matty’s arrived, finished with her work. She’s dressed in her uniform still, full body suit with no fabric to get in the way while she’s working. Seems like she decided to come straight here without changing once she got off work. If you look through the door, you’ll see her standing with her feet close together, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and rocking her whole body nervously, her hair swaying a little with each shift above her mottled swimming cat stripes on tan fur. One hand by her side, the other raised but hesitant, unsure how long to wait before she knocks again.

***

Isabelle and Solarel

No warnings flash. These are both mechas of the same facility, there is no reason that their creators know that they would be pitted against one another. They are too precious for such work. Perhaps this is why the spirit risked itself rather than one of these machines.

Nevertheless, an unknown mecha closing from above finds itself suddenly passed, met by a freezing blast from above and newly forged munitions before it makes its descent. A small mecha like this doesn’t have the armor to take such a blow, but the crystal fire drive is as strong as they come and has fewer jobs to do with such a small size frame. Thus the descending mecha, the Enkindler, has speed and shielding for the defense, and a blade newly forged to retaliate.

Let us see the fight.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Solarel

Shards shards shards

The whole world is glass and you are steel. There is no ceremony, there is no glory. The spirit understands its defeat. It struck in desperation, knowing it was already lost, and took the full brunt of your golden blade. Everything that it was dissipated into so much electrostatic radiation.

You rest now in the Kathresis. For a blessed moment, everything is still and silent. The cave moss has no words of congratulations to offer you, nor the dim lights that remain any flicker or hum.

After a moment, above you, peeking over the hole that is now the ceiling, is Annika Nornsdottr and Crescent, the cat from before. Annika is shouting, trying to gain your attention, asking if it’s safe to come down. She looks excited, but small. Crescent is at a wary ease, seeing no motion or combat.

They would congratulate you, if you would accept it. This is everything they hoped would happen, if perhaps not in this manner.

Or perhaps you simply wish to leave now. None may stop you.

***

Isabelle
You can feel the facility beginning to shut down. It has lost its animating force. You still have access controls, indeed you’re the only one exercising control over facility equipment at the moment, but your role is not senior enough to keep the facility in full operation. It’s going down to minimal viable systems, low lights and basic maintenance only.
You’re in the hangar. The remaining flight-ready mecha is there. It has no name, just a numerical designation in the system logs, X-S-337. Command and it will open for you. Local nanobots in your immediate vicinity continue to be responsive to your needs, the gestures are working like a charm. Except the lava floors, apparently that’s an energy level beyond the nanobots. Their disassembly has to do with minute filament materials that can be pulled apart and reassembled in different shapes, they do not produce adequate heat or other power output to melt industrial metal.

Are you really so unlucky? To be sure, nobody currently here cares over-much about you. Perhaps Solarel will come looking? But nobody else. Yet even so, here you are on an alien planet that barely anybody has explored, finding a facility of a lost species that barely anybody knows about, and you’ve got a direct technology interface for…some reason that probably bears contemplation later and a new, if small, mecha that you can claim. It’s not exactly the set of things you wanted, but… Or perhaps you feel more petulant than that and remain disappointed that the dreams you had for such adventure did not go as you planned?

In any event, you still have your map, you can get to Solarel, Annika, and Crescent as you please, or take the mecha back to the shuttle. Or simply leave at this point. The immediate world is your oyster, though the consequences of all this will ripple outwards upon your return. What do you do now?

***

Dolly and Jade
She’s a strong one, this leopard. You could probably have realized that when she leapt up to the scaffolding. She likes being pressed too, likes that you’re trying to lift her. It’s a challenge, it’s a game, it’s the thrill of the hunt in her spirit.

You’ve heard of the Red Band before. Freedom, freedom above all else is their motto. Their rules are the simplest rules: don’t kill your own, don’t steal from your own, but beyond that they fight and they play, they kidnap, they brand. And everyone else in the universe is fair game for them.

It doesn’t seem like the leopard had been planning a tussle when she leapt up. She’d made a spot, gotten excited, moved to draw attention. But now that you’ve provoked her…her tail flicks in excitement and she shifts her weight on her feet, suddenly leaning into your pull, overbalancing the both of you, causing Dolly to tumble backward, the leopard landing on top. Her strong hand is on your chest, she can feel your heart beating.

The others move to prevent any of your engineers from rushing up the steps, led by the Jaguar who claimed to be your next opponent.

“I think I should take you, cutie. It would send a lesson to all our opponents not to underestimate the Red Band. And you’d look so good strung up inside my cockpit."

She smiles and it’s baring teeth, but her eyes flick up to the mecha chassis. She wants Dolly, but she also wants a rise out of Jade. She wants to see what it means for the goddess to bare fangs. This is all impromptu of course, this doesn’t have the feeling of a heavily thought-through plan, it has the feeling of improvisation by a bunch of cats who are supremely confident in themselves.

How do you respond to this sacrilege?

***

Mirror

It’s dumplings for days. Or at least two solid meals. The delivery person, a young Terenian, was loaded down with a bag stacked high with containers of various meat dumplings so that she could barely even see when she first answered the door. She nearly dropped the bags as you started taking the top ones and she saw you were totally naked. You can see the moment when her eyes dart back and forth as she’s rapidly wondering if this is normal, if she should be embarrassed, if there’s something she doesn’t know about Hybrasilian culture, and perhaps whether it’s rude to double check if there was already a tip for her as part of the payment since she doesn’t see any way for you to offer one.

A blush slowly rises to her cheeks and she quickly hands you the rest of the bags, which smell of steamed meat and some kind of shellfish. Enough to make your mouth water.

Slate starts taking things, laying them out in the small room, spooning some noodles onto a plate that she starts slurping greedily, followed by a satisfied burp.

“Alright Mira, you can dress after we finish eating, if you feel like it. But meanwhile, tell me about the sabotage. That was why you went there originally, right? Talk to a Zaldarian with skill in nanobot tech and figure out how somebody could have gotten to the Hangar and to our stuff without any of us being the wiser.”

Slate rests an elbow on the low table where she’s set the food, leans forward intently, munches on a shredded meat bun with her other hand, biting out a third of it so you can see the insides. A drop of sauce almost falls out before she tilts it up so it soaks into the bread instead. “So” she says, swallowing, “you get anything on that front?”

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Solarel

The blades of the Kathresis, your blades, cut through the security drones like they are paper. Formless nanobots fall away from them like leaves, and the air that would make a sound is still as the hush before sunrise.

After a moment, there is a soft hiss as the warmer air around the flash-frozen security drone contacts its surface and undergoes rapid energy transfer. It sounds like the air escaping a sealed container.

The spirit returns to this scene, opening a new hole via the ceiling and bringing with it five more security drones, which immediately begin opening fire. “You…” it says. It’s voice is slow, and you can see the look on its face. Contorted with a mixture of rage and disbelief. In its eyes, you have committed sacrilege. “What have you done?!” it manages, though the drones are already shooting as fast as they’re able. Autocannon fire, older in style than lasers, though equally powerful.

How do you dismantle them?

***

Isabelle

You see a few images of some of the previous fighting. This is in answer to your query about the nanite abilities. The speed and mobility that the spirit initially displayed appears to be the limit. Not all rooms are equally constructed either, the nano bots that can shape the facility are much more effective working the facility metal floors and walls (which are themselves made of metals that are easily manipulated by nanobots) whereas boring a hole in one of the natural cavern rooms would take a considerable amount of time, more than the scale you’re working on.

You see the spirit, Trelasani, pulling various security drones to itself. This is in answer to your second query. Your authority is not higher than the locale’s guardian spirit, you’re an honored guest. The guardian spirit is distracted, but you could not draw resources away from it because it has primacy. The drones themselves are limited, pre-programmed nanobot constructions. Trelasani wasn’t constructing them on the fly previously, just bringing them into position from other locations, construction was limited to exterior coating adjustments for location movement.

You can’t see the shuttle in your facility map, it’s not actually in the facility. It seems like the nanobots here are geofenced, though there are probably various ways to get around that, and that sort of thing can’t be applied to larger mecha.

You understand that nothing happened when you drew a circle because you did not indicate a desire. If you associate a hand gesture with an expected action, the nanobots will follow that. For example, if you want drawing a circle to mean “open a hole within these boundaries” you can specify that and it will work that way.

You may want to hurry to the mecha labs, it’s hard to say how long the guardian spirit will be otherwise engaged.

***

Jade and Dolly

The six Hybrasilians all swagger into the hangar space before Jade’s body. They’re a variety of cat types: two tigresses, a lioness, a leopard, and two jaguars.

They draw up to Nine Forests and the engineering team, getting closer than normal Hybrasilian personal space, but never touching them.

“An inside source says I’ll be your next opponent” the second, taller Jaguar says. “You’ll hear about it officially soon. But I got curious.” She speaks in a drawl that sounds like she’s from one of the further out planets, not a Hybrasil homeworld accent. “You seem a little nervous” she reaches out and pats Nine Forests on the arm, just slow enough that it’s not an obvious threat, claws retracted. Then she grins. “Well, do my girlfriends and I get to come in properly or not? My parents taught me how to worship the goddesses, I’m not a heathen. I promise we won’t steal any of your engineers. This time.” Then she puts her head back and lets out a broad laugh. The others grin and flex.

One of them, the Leopard, flicks her eyes up to Dolly on the catwalk, watching her intently. “That one the high priestess who’s the pilot?” she asks nobody in particular, her long tail flicking behind her in excitement at her catch.

***

Mirror

“Mm, mmm” says Slate, sliding onto the couch next to you. “She sounds like someone special. Someone we’d both have a soft spot for. Prooobably a liability, right, but one that you just can’t resist.”

Slate offers you a hand, holding yours if you’ll take it. “I think I’d like that though. I’ll take a good person, an interesting outcast even if she’s a liability for us. We gotta keep the special ones. You know I’m always up for a project, Mira. You’ve got me double here, gaming out your new system and the new kitten we’ve recruited. Damn, you’re good.” Slate sighs. “Did you know all along I’d be helping you raise a kitten out of this? Cuz if you think I’m always gonna fetch you drinks while you deal with everything…you might be right but I’m going to complain about it, just watch me.” Then she relaxes to let you know she feels comfortable, even if all her doubts aren’t assuaged.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"Really?!" Giri's eyes go wide and she looks up and down at the Banneret. "Why does she matter so much?! Why has Heaven even intervened here?"

Giri sighs, spits, kicks the dirt, throws up her hands. But there's that extended hand from the Banneret and this is a time limited offer. She glances back over her shoulder at Han and Piripiri. This was frustrating. Why were her obligations always thrown against each other like this?

It's Azazuka that decides it at the end. Azazuka and a bit of observation that made her think Piri wouldn't want her to abandon Azazuka either. Piripiri too had been courteous and thoughtful towards Azazuka earlier, and throughout their time on the barge. Piri was competent, Azazuka was possessed. She was now quite determined to get the Golden Banneret done with her business (ideally without stranding them in the middle of nowhere, but even that was mostly a bonus at this point). Mission Get Azazuka's Body Back was going to be the thing, and Giri thought (hoped, prayed, begged) that her captors would agree with her decision.

So, she took that hand, wherever it might lead. Good luck Piri, good luck Han and Lotus. She hopes it all works out for you, and that maybe the healing circle is even a bit useful if you can figure out what it is.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"That's extremely kind, thank you" Giri says before Piripiri steps away from her. And she means it, no sarcasm, no eyeroll, you've really put her in a situation that she thinks is kind of you.

"So" she says to the Banneret, while she begins drawing a magic circle in the nearby grass. "Now that your promise is done, are you planning on departing soon? I'm sure that Azazuka would like her body back, preferably not too starving and dehydrated either. Your work is appreciated, of course, we'd have lost them for certain without your help. I rather think this whole thing was quite sloppy. What would they have done if we'd been visited by a less puissant spirit who simply told us where to find them only to arrive too late?"

Giri takes a stick and deepends the lines, as well as picking a few nearby berries to enchant, and some loose foliage from the bushes to mark the edges of the circle. "I suppose Piripiri can track, but I'm happy not to have had to spend days camping out with no fire and marching through the night to catch up with them. And that's assuming they didn't slip us in a neighboring town. I'd say the Dominion seems a lot more shoddy than I expected, but we are here and I can't really blame them for not anticipating a Rakshasa properly. Ugh, we have got to get rid of that thing, it's such a problem."

Giri shakes her head and finishes the circle, beginning her enchantment on the berries. This is nothing particularly spectacular. She's simply casting some medical spells. A circle for healing or disinfecting any wounds, and some enchanted berries to offer additional strength and fortify the body (one immediately for Azasuka the second the Banneret departs). Hopefully most of it won't even be needed, but it's a far cry better than anything combat related and nobody will blame her for being prepared.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Mirror

For a moment, Slate tenses, but you’ve fallen onto the couch and what’s she going to do, reach down and slap you as you’re all splayed out and drunk? That’s no fun and it doesn’t have any of the satisfaction of throwing a proper punch when you’re standing up.

So, instead she turns her tension into a spring not at you, but the nearby kitchen door. She returns with something thick and grassy and puts it in your hands. “Here, you’re drunk.” She hands it off, stares at you until you sip it. It’s bitter, but you know that’s half the point of drinks to pull you out of being drunk, the bitterness itself gets your brain in gear.

Slate paces while you drink, a few steps then turn, back and forth in front of you, anything to direct that energy.

“Okay fine, you were…somewhat careful. And you have a theory about how this will improve things that isn’t completely stupid. Fine, fine. I suppose it’s on me to point out the first order problem that whatever creativity a restriction might offer, it might also result in you being unable to do something that could save your ass. You know because it’s a restriction. It restricts. You…you get the point boss, I’m not going to belabor it. This might help you come up with new stuff, and it might give me something to do in terms of running the numbers to suggest options to you, depending on what sort of restriction you get. That’s not boring, at least.”

Slate finally offers you something like a smile, slightly lopsided, more of a smirk really. “So tell me more about this new kitten you got for us?”

[If you want, you can roll an emotional support for this next part.]

***

Isabelle

Message sent, just like that. Cross your fingers.

You really don’t have a misread on Crescent and Annika. You were secondary, a chance to test something and they already got the answer to that test somewhat accidentally. They probably figured that you were as interested as they were in figuring out what’s going on here, that you’d want to find Solarel like they do, and that anyway you didn’t have anywhere else to go or another ride. It’s dismissive and more than a little rude. A part of you, the most cat part, might want to use your new powers to make trouble for them.

Your question brings up a new series of schematics added to the current map. You can see that there’s one small mecha currently in pursuit of Solarel in the lower caves. Solarel has referred to it as the Kathresis and as there was no prior name designation, the network has adopted this as well for you. There are two more dormant mecha in the level above you. Apparently there’s a large front room on the laboratory level that is for mecha experimentation. It’s where the Kathresis came from, and there are two other small mechas there of comparable size. Schematics tell you that one is partially disassembled, nanobots could begin repairs, but it would take some time. The other is functional but dormant. All three are unarmed, whatever they were doing here it wasn’t primarily combat. Engines testing maybe? Or they could have just been suits for heavy manual labor. You’re not getting that much detail, the system thinks it would short your brain so it’s dishing it out more slowly, question by question.

There are no other shuttles in this facility, just the one Annika and Crescent used, which still has a couple lionesses on it that you couldn’t take in a straight fight. It seems like this facility wasn’t meant as a primary entry/exit port. It’s a testing and science facility, so its inhabitants would come from other sectors to go to it. No inhabitants, no small transports.

Quickest route to the lab level and its two mechas is, annoyingly, following the route Annika and Crescent took in, then cutting to the left and taking an elevator.

***

Solarel

You’ve got the angle. It’s the angle you so recently took with Mirror. Of course it is because even if Hybrasilian mechas may not have the power of Zaldarian spirits, Mirror herself is the epitome of fierce and unpredictable. Of course it’s the tactics you refined on her.

The angle is to take a hit straight on, swing through it like you did when losing your legs. It’s just going to hurt a hell of a lot more than when sitting in the pilot seat of a TC mecha and getting the feedback via dampened neural mesh with failsafes. The spirit’s not shifting its form, it only has two arms and it’s not using any sort of fancy fighting style. If it makes a sword and stabs you, you lose a part of yourself but you bring it in close enough to hit.

It’s a fairly simple dance. Step in and swing your gold blade overhand. The spirit blocks. Leave your hand up too high and step further in with your shoulder. An obvious opening, the spirit goes straight for the chest. You twist sideways and slam your own blade down faster than expected. You’re stabbed through the center area under your arm because the spirit’s got the most direct route, but your sword has too much momentum, too much power from putting your full mass into the move. It comes down on the spirit and cleaves decisively. You see its form flicker like static and in your head there is a scream of pain, and then it disappears to safety. To recover.

That hurt like hell and it’s going to cause you bigger trouble later, but you have an all important free moment to completely focus on your silver sword, on the heart of the Kathresis with no interference.

Mark angry and then tell us how you take your new god and how you make it yours.

***

Dolly and Jade

Ksharta was pleased with the soup, with how you received it. She wasn’t there for the saddest mew, but she could tell you were more subdued. Just didn’t know why. Angela looked uncertain when you let her go. The spank was good, the force was good, she did like that and it made her feel a little reassured, but she didn’t miss the way that Dolly had closed up compared to before. She doesn’t entirely understand it yet, but she knows that she made a mistake there. Now she’s gone and she’ll nurse her role for the next combat, in or out of the tournament. Don’t be surprised if she tries to kidnap you at some point if you make yourself too obvious a target.

Speaking of kidnapping, after you rest, Jade’s got some visitors the next day, with Dolly present to tend to her body in preparation for the next match soon. They’re supposedly there as supplicants, but six supplicants openly wearing the red armbands that officially unofficially mark them as members of Jacinta Niares’ Red Band Pirates. You know, the ones known for rampant deceptions, kidnapping, and “marking” their targets in much the way Jade did with Angela before. Those Red Band Pirates.

The dock team wants to know if they should let them through. If you don’t, they’ll probably spread the word that the goddess turned away earnest worshippers, it would be quite the scandal.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Mirror

“You did what?!” Slate’s eyes are very wide indeed, like big saucers full of feeling. And she’s standing on the balls of her feet, that old pounce instinct to attack on full display even though she probably won’t. She clenches her fists though.

There’s a lot to discuss with Slate. You could have started with the question of unusual noises beyond the general background din of people moving and chatting, the hum of containers being moved about on hovering platforms, and the distant buzz and clang of metal being worked and welded. Could have also started by asking for repair status, and Slate obviously has something to tell you (it’s the news about the flowers on the other planet you didn’t visit).

But you know what? Sometimes you have to open big and Slate’s the sort of cat who’s not going to take it any better if you bury the lead. So you’ve told her you shared details of the Nine Tails plans, that you have acquired a new…follower? in Matty, and that Trosta will be installing your new chains for you soon, certainly before the next match.

Now she’s taking it all in. She has also remembered to breathe, but it took her a second. “Okay, start again boss because it sounded like you just said, ‘Slate I gave away a bunch of our most important secrets on a whim to someone I just met and her hot assistant’ and am I hearing this right?”

***

Solarel

The plan goes off perfectly. You’re in one of the larger caves rooms, still on the lower level. Four entrances, as it’s a larger hub room, offering you space even if the Kathresis were to punch in from an unexpected angle. Bioluminescent lichen lights the room in a dim, soothing purple.

The spirit is following your camera pattern and floats its way through the door, the Kathresis just off the ground. It’s ideal, you float the drone near a camera and once it goes past, you leap and grab upon its back!

Touching the Kathresis is like touching a new lover after a breakup. You’ve felt metallic skin like this before, but not in so long, and not this skin. It’s full of mysteries. The Kathresis is not smooth, but molded, its metal skin full of bumps and texture, shaped roughly to its humanoid form.

When you land, the spirit lets out a shriek of surprise and spins. At first, the Kathresis hopes to throw you off from momentum, but you’ve got a sure grip and you’ve done this before. The thing may be powerful, but it’s not nearly as big as even the Sea Spike from your first match, and that one couldn’t do more than get you to slide halfway down it with far more torque.

As you pull yourself up to the shoulder, you realize that you’ve countered the spirit’s primary advantage. If it phases out of its position, it will be giving up its direct interface with the Kathresis and that could give you an opportunity to seize an advantage. It needs to hold its ground here.

“You. You!” It’s mouth works, and you can see the fury rise and fall as it struggles to find words and ultimately takes a different tack. “You disrespect your masters by disobeying me. You should be a servant. If you prostrate yourself now, I promise no harm will come to you or your traveling companions.”

You’re not going to take the offer though. Roll to fight with the spirit and tell us what it looks like when you do now that you can hit it.

***

Isabelle

Repair drone 1328 is not presently available. The network determines that you were confused but that it would be easier to accept the designation Tate than to remedy this confusion. You are aware that it will respond to Tate if addressed henceforth.

The answer you receive to your communications query is anywhere. You can record right here if you don’t think Crescent and Annika will notice and turn around to bother you. Any set of nanobots can convey your recording to the communications array three rooms away and one level below you from any interface point.

The array is not multi-frequency, so pick one of your channel options, try to hide if you think that’s helpful, and send out your message. Let’s see who you get.

***

Dolly and Jade

You can feel the heat from Angela as you hold her. The closeness. She squirms, but you can’t help but kiss her atop her head. The chefs are forgotten for a moment, Ksharta is working calmly and slowly and doesn’t need to be bothered. The world is the touch of that soft hair, the warmth beneath it, just slightly damp with sweat, smelling of Angela’s body. A blush rises up through her cheeks, and you feel completely immersed.

Then Angela lets out a grunt through her gag and headbutts you straight upward. Your vision flashes white, and you can taste a little blood. Hers and yours, your fang doesn’t discriminate. Angela lets out a satisfied sigh and smiles at you.

And then, there is the greatest injustice. Before you can take revenge or even really get your bearings, Ksharta is back, looking slightly confused at the two of you as she sets down three bowls of her soup from the cauldron in front of you. Little herbs float on the surface and within you can see peppers and flecks of little seeds along with the meat from before. “Eat” she commands, and there’s really no choice in the matter.

It’s going to taste divine. A subtle palette of the herbal aroma and a slowly building numbing spice that makes you salivate with each bite of the meat. Even Angela is going to like it, though about halfway through she’s going to find it too spicy and have to take a five minute break just to drink water and let her mouth recover. She will smirk the entire time though, don’t doubt it.