BlasTech

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"So that's it, huh?" muses Isabelle, sliding her sword back into its sheath as she watches Adriana stroll off. No more fight. No more great revelations. No more competition. She stares into the grey skies of the spaceport, watching clouds pass by.

"Seems a bit anticlimatic, doesn't it?" replies Asil. Stepping up beside her.

Isabelle hums leans into the contact.

"A little. It mostly just feels strange." she continues. "The Arena has ended. The greatest competition for our generation. And its ... it's done. I mean, for the longest time. I thought, no ... I believed, that it would be my name at the top of the list - me standing at the podium - when we got to this point. After all, Adriana had been able to do it, and I'm better than she was."

She glances at the monitors, which are now showing the match results.

"Instead, I made a choice. And that choice led to ... here. Where Mirror and Solarel took centre stage. And I'm just watching from the sidelines like a bit part in someone else's story. It feels ... unreal. Like something that was meant to be just ... isn't. And I-I don't know where to take that right now."

Asil glances up at Isabelle, noting the water in her eyes. But the other woman doesn't let anything fall.

"All my life. I was told that this was my Destiny. That I would take my place at the forefront of the Galaxy. And that was the moment I'd achieve everything I was meant to be. That moment I'd fully realise into who I was meant to be. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change what I did. But with the Arena over ... I'm not sure who I am meant to be now ..."

The two of them are silent, taking in the moment. Committing it to memory. Recognising that this was one of those handful of times in a person's life where they would be witness to history being made.

"Well ..." Asil ventures, sliding her hand and intertwining their fingers. Isabelle looks down and finds the programmer smiling up at her.

"... let's go find out."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle eyes up Marcina, her sword point steady as the other woman moves in her way. For all the fact her opponent is unarmed, this is a classic standoff.

On the one hand, any thrust Isabelle makes is going to be far from inexpert. On the other, it's because of this that Isabelle finds herself stuck - after all, what would be a winning blow, or even a disabling one, on a twenty meter mech could very well be fatal on a living being ... and come on - there's fun, and then there's just plain old dangerous.

"Look, Marcina - this is a good delaying job you're doing already. Adriana has a head start, enough for her to get some space, but there's no sense in drawing this out. After all, once Kiriala there recovers, it'll be two against- DISTRACTION SPELL!"

And with that, Isabelle flings a muffin into Marcina's face - before pushing past her and running after Adriana.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle watches as Kirala leaps down to attack. Listens as Adriana gloats as the server rack sparks with her strikes. Feels the ridges of her own sword as her hand grips it so tightly that her knuckles go to white.

And then she squeezes her eyes shut.

Why aren't we fighting? This is the moment, isn't it? Matty said so!

They're waiting on us. We can't let them down!

... can we?

She takes a shuddering breath.

This is scary. But look at Adriana. She's really just hamming it up. Even in danger she's finding what fun she can. Can't we do that? We did that in the arena with Solarel, that was the whole point of the fight! Why can't we do it now?

Isabelle grimaces.

This isn't like the arena. This is real life. It has real consequences. We used to treat everything as some sort of competition, never really took the other people seriously as people, and look at all the pain we caused - and that was just in the arena. We can't treat this stuff like a game.

Not to mention we could actually be hurt too. Pipes up one of the quieter Isabelles.

So, what, we do nothing then? Let everyone get caught?

It's our duty to do it.

Nobody said doing Good was going to be easy.

But ... we have to do it anyway. Don't we. Otherwise, it's only talk. This whole idea of trying to be better falls apart if we don't have the resolve to follow through ...

Eyes still shut, Isabelle frowns.

Remember ... it's just like dancing.

A memory. Her hand grips an epee. Smaller, younger. Looking up into the helmeted face of her instructor.

There's a rhythm to any fight. Be it with a single partner, or in a group. Like in dancing, you must anticipate your opponent's moves, flow to meet them where you need to be. Like in dancing, your footwork, grace and agility will be your tools.

Isabelle's eyes stay shut. But her thumb shifts, cracking her azure blade an inch out of its hilt.

Take the first position. Maintain balance into the pilé. Releve. Two demi, one grand. Cambré forward and back. Repeat.

A different class. A different teacher. The same lessons but from another angle. If you were to ask her, there weren't many things she actually enjoyed about her childhood. But dancing was one of them.

Her eyes stay shut. But the lights in the corridor go out.

Steps. One. Two. Three. Bring your energy forward! Sauté into the port de bras.

Blue light arcs in the dark as she opens her eyes at last. She ignores the panicked yells of those around her, people whose eyesight was only now adjusting to darkness. Filtering them out and remembering only the steps she needs to take - as if she'd done them a hundred times before.

The trail her sword leaves in the darkness is a whirling aurora, seeking out a golden counterpart. Cut through the gap. Step to the side. Feel the beat. Parry, twist and push.

Metal strikes metal, once, twice, three times - sparks of light making birthing stars out of nothing.

Shift your feet. Come inside the embrace. Bring your partner to their knees.

A sword clatters to the ground, joining the gun somewhere on the ground as the lights come back on.

Her blade is levelled at Marcina, who - hopefully - is not making any moves to continue the fight with Kirala.

"Fury is the wrong emotion here." she says, addressing a freshly disarmed Adriana. "But if you wish a daring escape, I am happy to provide one in lieu of a goddess. And in exchange for wrath, please accept my determination."

"In point: these people are under my protection. And we are leaving."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle hands the cup over, putting trust in the hastily scrawled "Adriana" on the lid to see it reach its ultimate destination.

And then just ... waits.

She stands there, rocking on her heels, fingers brushing the hilt of her sword. It seems so strange to have to do nothing whilst, in front of her, the two women hack away at the server racks that are protecting one of her allies. But Matty's words stop her from committing to anything more drastic.

Would we really do anything right now? I mean, we don't have Emberlight anymore. And Marcina does have a gun.

Still. Isabelle finds herself gritting her teeth. Considering, seriously considering, how a fight might transpire here. How she could, with the right precision, disable her opponents, or at least disarm them. Even knowing that she doesn't have the protection of several tonnes of superdense alloys. Or the power of a CFD behind her.

It's crazy. It's insane. It's stupid.

But something is wrong. She can feel it, like a tingle on the back of her neck. Something is coming.

What? Where did that idea come from?

She glances up and down the empty corridors behind them. And grips the hilt of her sword tighter.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle sighs. Well, it had been worth a try.

"Might as well follow her and bring that coff- what the heck are you doing??!"

Asil freezes. Eyes wide, mouth open and above an empty coffee cup. A droplet of spit slowly works its way down her chin before she straightens, swallows the mouthful, and sheepishly wipes her mouth with a sleeve.

"Asillll." Isabelle groans, pinching her nose. "That is Adriana Teresio, CEO of the Consortium and the most powerful woman in a full third of known space. I know you don't care that much for authority, but you cannot just ... just hock a loogie into her coffee!!"

And now it's Asil's turn to be quiet, as she stares into the bottom of the cup with a pout.

"Look." Isabelle continues, voice softening. "I mean, I get it. It's sweet that you'd want to stand up for me like that. And I know that she just walked right past me ... shoved me aside really ... was rude to us both ... and treated us like her servants ... and ... and ... "

Isabelle trails off, no longer sure where she was going with this ...

"... Y'know what? Give me that cup."

A few moments later, she and her girlfriend hurried their way into the command centre in Adriana's wake. Carrying one take-away order of 'special' coffee.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

...

"Uh ... kissing my girlfriend? And she's uh ... here?" she replies, still coming out of the effects of a blow to the head.

"I think she's asking the broader sense of what you're doing, babe." whispers Asil, as she helps Isabelle back to her feet.

"Oh, right."

Isabelle eyes the pistol and sword that are being pointed in their vague direction, feeling the familiar stirrings of fear. Those were weapons. They could hurt people. It wasn't like when she was piloting. Real life didn't have inertial dampers, reinforced pilot cages or emergency core shielding. This was the pirate kidnapping all over again.

"I don't suppose you'd accept that we're just handing out coffee and muffins? No? Well, it was worth a shot." she shrugs, glancing at her watch. "Truth be told, I don't know where they are, and it's too late to do anything about it now anyway. About two minutes too late, in fact."

Good. Safe play. Logic to delay her. Maybe deflect. Don't give away too much.

"So why don't we all just go on our way now." she says, before adjusting her stance and letting her coat fall to reveal the hilt of her own sword. The shard of Bellerophon catching the light enough to glint. "There's no need for swords, pistols, or anyone to be hurt for what's going on."

Wait. What?

"After all, damage done." she continues, her voice amazingly level. "So can I interest you in a takeaway cup? It'd be a shame to let this all go to waste."

Take the bluff take the bluff take the bluff oh please take the bluff. I don't want to fiiiight.

After all. Does Adriana know about how adverse Isabelle is to fighting outside the cockpit? Or will she just see the girl who was a good enough fencer to sink her sword into the Aeteline, and think that maybe, just maybe, this is not a fight worth having?

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Sky. That was nice to look at. But it was in the way ...

No, scratch that. Sky was where it should be, but it was too bright ...

Someone really needed to turn it off. Maybe she could go up in Emberlight and shoot it down.

Dazed, Isabelle can only lie there for a moment, as Asil anxiously fans her with a ... cloth? Why the heck was she using a cloth? Maybe it was all she could find to hand - after all, she'd gotten there fairly quickly. That was sweet of her.

Isabelle stirs, smiling slightly, which only brings a more concerned frown from her girlfriend. She raises her arms and gently grabs the other woman's lapels, before dragging her down into a full-mouth kiss.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she logged the need to respond to Matty.

Then again, the sounds they were making now might be enough.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Solved? No, not solved. Worse! She's leaving? Why?

"No! It's not a bother!" she continues. "It's nice to actually speak to someone rather than ... y'know ... have to stand behind a counter all day.

Did she say something wrong? She'd just been trying to make conversation. But ... did she insult her? Maybe travel was something she never really got to enjoy ... she hadn't considered how inaccessible planetary travel might have been if intrasystem was the extent of .. stars and moons she was clearly not good with this.

"I ... are you sure you won't stay for a bit longer?"

[Trying to entice her to stay. 1 + 3 + 0 = 4]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle glances over at the stand, worrying slightly about what might've made Asil groan so loudly.

Her girlfriend is not looking in her direction (in fact, she's very much not looking in her direction) so whatever it is clearly doesn't have anything to do with her chat with Vicky.

"Where I'm from?" Isabelle repeats, not understanding why such information might be sensitive.

"Well, I was born on Terenius Prime." she replies, leading to another groan from the bake stand.

"But I tend to travel alot for, uh, business ..." another groan.

"Horizon, Azure, Aoi ... Akkar. Have you done - uh excuse me a second." she pauses, before calling out to Asil to see if she needs help. After all, something must be bothering her alot to get those sounds out of her. But when her girlfriend says no (through strangely gritted teeth) Isabelle just shrugs and turns back to Vicky.

"Have you done much travelling yourself?"

Huntresses of Hybrasil

'You're kidding right?" replies Isabelle, hanging off every word. "I'm an engineer by trade (among a couple of other things), so this stuff is the right up my alley."

She shifts, motioning towards the spaceport.

"What fabbing capabilities did you have to make the dishes with that kind of precision when you first set out? Any imperfections would degrade signal quality, unless your receiver was sensitive enough to compensate. Did you use the Mark 4 Chrysanthemum machining set? Or ... let me think, maybe the Mark one Neoproptic? I think that had been released about thirty five years back."

For better or for worse, these were all models that were seldom seen off the Capitol worlds, or in the hands of big corporations.

"You said this was a mining settlement right? What was the parent company?"

She pauses, as her brain suddenly catches up to her ...

"Oh yeah, I'm uh ... call me 'Belle'" she says, awkwardly failing to think of a proper alias. "What was your name?"