Rin was curious. She was standing in the research facility with her officers, flanked by Noir, who hadn’t said a word to her since his failure.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A… gun… sword…” said the other Vorchan. He was a brown Desert by the name of Lexicus.
“I don’t understand. How does it work?” Rin asked.
“Behold, Princess.” he said, grasping the pistol in his talons.
With the press of a button, the pistol separated and began to slide outwards, every section of the pistol a plate that locked with the plate before it. When it extended out to its full length, which looked to be just under a meter, the lower edge became infused with red particles and razor sharp.
“And he had that?” Rin asked.
“I knocked it out of his hand before he could use it on me.” said Noir, posing slightly.
“Who is he?” she continued, amazed. That wasn’t a Raumen weapon. She had never seen anything like it before. A sword: It would be something a slayer would use. But slayers didn’t exist, they were a myth.
“We do not know. Using the blood from Noir’s talons, we should have been able to uncover the attacker’s ancestry, but – well.”
“Well what?” Rin asked.
“The match goes back. Far back to the archives. Over eight thousand years back.”
“That’s impossible!” Rin said.
“I know, I know, and it becomes even more perplexing when I attempted to isolate the genus of this… person.” Lexicus said, pausing again.
“Well?” Rin beckoned.
Lexicus put a picture of a Vorchan and a picture of a bipedal Raumenoid up on the vidscreen. “He used to be that.” Lexicus said, pointing at the Raumenoid. “But something is changing the makeup of his later cells. He’s more Vorchan than Raumen – genetically at least. Do you have a picture of him?”
“No, all of the cameras were being jammed, and somehow nobody noticed.” Rin growled at Noir.
“I saw him!” Noir said. “But he was wearing a suit…”
“Then you didn’t see him.” Rin sighed.
“What kind of suit?” Lexicus asked.
“A… black suit.” Noir explained. “And it had red eyes! Evil eyes!”
“Hmm…” Lexicus said, ruffling his wings together in thought.
“He’s a slayer! Half-Vorchan half-Raumen, come to wreak vengeance on us for our ancestors sins! We’re all—” Noir stopped talking when he noticed Rin was getting ready to tail-slap him.
“Or maybe he’s a weapon. Do you remember the project the Coalition was working on? BMH-131?” suggested Rin. “It’s more realistic. The initial plans we stole explained how the neural link would augment the Captain. Physically and genetically.”
“The ship? But he came with a fighter.” Noir said.
“A fighter can’t make it out this far. He came with a ship. And I know which ship it is!” Rin said, determination in her blue eyes, “And I know how to find it.”
“Oh Rinny… my beautiful genius.” Noir swooned, leaning into her.
Rin gracefully stepped out of the way, headed for the bridge as Noir fell to the floor.
–
–
Matt checked the space around him before letting Crimson dump the Concentrated Koveran Run-Off. The ship shook violently, getting the CKRO off the way a wet dog would the pool-water.
That feels so good… Crimson groaned, grateful to finally have his veins clear of all that runoff.
“Damn Crimson, didn’t know it was that uncomfortable.” Matt said, uploading the computer data to Crimson’s databanks. The three of them reviewed it for a few minutes.
They all came to the same decision unanimously and instantly. “Get us to Zemoria.”
“I can’t.” Crimson chirped.
“They won’t shoot-on-site. Let’s go.”
“No. I really can’t. Something just jammed the neural band!” he said, anxiety apparent in the chirps.
There was a loud thud as something coupled onto Crimson’s hull. “It’s one of those Vorchan ships! Get it—“ The chirps cut off, replaced by the standard status chirp that told Matt his ship was currently idle and unconscious.
“Great. Ghost?” Matt asked, reaching for his pistol, but taking out the Vorchan’s horn instead.
“Here.” Ghost beeped quietly.
“Crimson is going to kill me. I forgot his pistol. I can’t believe I did that.” Matt said, staring at the horn in his hand. “What good is this going to do?”
Ghost shot one of his umbilicals over to a terminal, tapping into Crimson’s systems. “The Internal Security Turrets aren’t deploying. They somehow disabled the entire ship.”
“What are we going to do?” Matt asked, hearing shuffling outside the door. “They’re hacking it!”
“I still have my weapons.” Ghost said, pulling in front of Matt slightly so that his left wing could be used as cover. He began charging his array of cannons.
“Get ready.” Matt said.
The door opened, revealing some sort of mechanical Vorchan. Ghost opened fire with a full barrage of kinetic, koveran-laced, and explosive shells. The door was completely destroyed, and the bulkheads were charred black by the time the volley was finished.
To their surprise, the mechanical construct was unharmed, taking several steps forward. “What kind of robot is that?” Matt asked.
The Vorchan’s wings shot out, revealing a rack of missiles and gauss cannons. “It’s an exosuit!” said a muffled, translated growl.
Matt had remembered Tass use wing racks like that, but not a full-body suit that can take koveran rounds. He was…
…impressed, “How did you do that? How did you survive that volley?”
“Where did you get this pistol from?” countered the Vorchan, dropping Matt’s pistol from one of the wing-racks.
“My pistol!” Matt exclaimed, stepping out of cover to pick it up.
“Matt!” Ghost warned, pulling forward – but it was too late. The suited figure was lunging. Matt pirouetted out of the way, sword deployed and ready.
“Did you build it?” she asked, poised with gauss guns aimed. Her tail whipped once, unleashing a small koveran wave that slapped Ghost back slightly and blinded his sensors. He fluttered about in agitation as he tried to lock the attacking Vorchans.
“What?” Matt winced. His grip faltering from his wounds. It gave her an opportunity to lung forward.
Matt jumped back, but stumbled and fell as he put pressure on his injured leg.
She was growling hungrily, and Matt could see blue eyes behind those lenses.
“I think I recognize you.” Matt said.
“Yeah, keeping Noir from making a fool of himself.” she scoffed.
“Who’s Noir?” Matt asked.
“An idiot.” The Vorchan replied succinctly.
“Hey!” yelled another Vorchan beyond the corridor.
Matt slowly got up. “How many of you are out there?”
“The entire fleet. Around eighty ships or so… a million of us?”
“I meant… in the hallway… but I guess that was a better answer.” Matt said with a dejected laugh, keeping his sword raised.
The Vorchan didn’t do anything, staring curiously. Matt stared back. The exosuit’s gauss guns were trained right on him. “What kind of cannons are those?”
“Type-1’s. Prototype gauss rifles.”
“I figured they were Gauss… with the magnetic coils and all that.”
He knows about weapons! Her augmented tail started to wag slightly.
“What is it?” Matt asked. Watching her carefully. He didn’t know how fast that tail was.
“This ship: The prototype? 131?” the Vorchan asked.
Matt didn’t say anything. Unsure of what he should reveal. Ghost had recovered from the initial tail slash by now, his weapons aimed at the group.
“Are there others?”
Matt tried walking back to the cover of his fighter, but she stepped in front of him, he could smell her Vorchan breath behind the suit filters. He had to move his sword to keep it from piercing her face. Its tip was touching her left wing spar now.
“What happened?” she asked intuitively.
“What do you want. Why is this fleet heading for Zemoria?” Matt asked, not interested in this line of questioning any longer.
The Vorchan stepped closer, pressing the sword into her wing spar slightly, the pressure it put on Matt’s arm made him wince and bring the sword closer. He was holding it with almost one hand now.
“What are you two doing in there!” yelled the Vorchan outside.
“Shut up NOIR!” she yelled back, then turning back to gaze on him. “Do you get into a lot of battles? You must, being so calm.”
“You’re calm too.” Matt replied. “And brave.” He added, seeing that she was between him and Ghost. Then again… he was between her and her forces…
“But I have a suit that makes me invincible! You’re so soft… and…” she loomed closer, and Matt was forced to bring the sword completely up against himself. The blunt edge was now against his chest, with the sharp end up against her neck. “…delicate.”
Matt faltered. Ghost was ready to shoot, but the rounds would be pointless.
“Ok this is taking too long!” yelled the Vorchan.
“Shut up.” was the response, followed by the door sealing… and cracking the edges of the bulkheads.
“So what happened? Tell me about yourself!” The Vorchan continued, seeming to scratch herself against the blade. She purred from the contact.
“Why…” Matt stepped back, only to have the Vorchan step forward. “Are you headed for Zemoria?”
“Power void, orders from above, you know how it is…” the Vorchan said, still staring intently. This proximity was making Matt really uncomfortable. But then she seemed to sigh, and starting playing with the floor with her paw. Her pose shifted, her tail lowered. Matt brought the sword back, readying a thrust with his working arm.
“But you don’t agree with it?” Matt asked.
“Well I don’t really know. I mean the two of us are buildings things to kill each other all the time –“
“You mean the Vorchans and Raumens?” Matt asked, clenching the handle of the blade tightly. Ghost was silently circling around, ready to fire when Matt attacked.
“—yeah but then again they never really attacked us. They mobilized a bit but so did we. You see it’s all a game of posture and politics. That’s all it is.” Her tail was raised again. “You put your ships near the border. We put ours near the border. You build prototype weapons. We build counters.”
“Like whatever knocked Crimson unconscious?” Matt asked. He jabbed slightly with the sword, and saw her bring her tail forward, parrying the sword away almost subconsciously.
“It’s called a Neural Inhibitor.” The Vorchan answered, staring at the tip of the sword now.
“Way better than the Raumen ones.” Matt said, running the sword along her neck lightly. She pressed against it pleasurably, stepping past Matt. He was now surrounded by her.
“Thanks! So where are you from?” she asked.
Matt had a hand on her exosuit, trying to keep her from getting too close. He carefully stepped back but accidentally stepped on one of her talons. It was reinforced steel and whirred hydraulically as she stepped even closer. Her neck was now behind him. She was holding him, sort of.
“Far away.” Matt said. “What are you doing?”
“How far?” She asked. Matt heard a mechanical whir, and then sniffing.
“Why are you smelling me?” Matt asked. One of his feet were on her talons, and as he tried to bring the other back, he realized her tail was resting right behind it.
“You smell good…” she took another deep whiff, “exotic!”
She was nosing at the wound on his arm now, licking at it slightly, then more hungrily. “Your taste…”
It was wet, and burned strangely as her serpentine tongue flicked between the gashes. He recoiled fearfully, tripping over her tail. She was looming over him now, not giving him room to get up. She was licking at his leg too. He could feel her fangs, ready to dig in any second. Her breathing was quicker now. He realized she had brought back her face mask to do all this. He wasn’t sure if he could thrust the sword fast enough, and even then, it would just wound her. Maybe it would give him the opportunity he needed to escape.
Then he noticed an engraving on the side of one of her gauss cannons. Matt started to laugh.
“What?” she asked, looking up at him, and back at what he was looking at. Her eyes were a vivid blue, and her jawline revealed a row of razor sharp fangs. Two extended an inch below her snout and glistened from what was undoubtedly saliva conglomerating on the bottom.
“Princess?” Matt asked, laughing even harder. So it was definitely a female Vorchan, he was sure now.
He stopped laughing as she looked back at him, mouth opened slightly. Those eyes, they were staring straight at him, and not at the blade. He was about to strike when –
“Wait.” The Vorchan showed him the other gauss rack, on her right side. “There.”
“Black Nova.” Matt read aloud. They were both sitting now, face to face.
“What do you know of it?” she asked.
“Not much.” Matt replied.
“You aren’t being very co-operative. So was there a war?” she asked.
“There was a war, but it was between the Zemorians and the Coalition.”
“That would explain the power void. There must have been heavy casualties. Is your ship the only one of its kind?”
Matt let the sword rest beside him. He looked at it regretfully. “Now he is.”
“That must have been horrible.” she said empathetically.
“It was.” Matt said, he was still looking at the sword, but was distracted when he heard a hydraulic hissing emanating from the rest of her suit.
“I’m going to take off this suit if I’m sitting around. It’s not like you could kill me anyways. We would just blow up your ship!”
“Yeah.” Matt said awkwardly, letting the sword couple back into its pistol form. He clipped it onto his belt.
He saw red wings first, and then the white spikes along the back of her neck. Two long pearl-white horns. Her body was black, with red designs, “Like beemveins.” he thought aloud.
“What?” she asked.
“The… like the patterns… are you bonded – I mean linked?” he stammered.
“With what? A ship?” she asked.
Matt nodded, she looked a lot like Tass, but much more… Matt couldn’t quite place it.
“Only our pilots link, but we still control our craft through consoles.” she looked around, “Our design is very similar to this craft. Your men must have stolen the templates from us.”
“Maybe.” Matt said meekly.
“So tell me more about the war!” she prompted, excitement in her eyes. The grin seemed very human, except for the two protruding fangs… how did they—he shook that thought, continuing his story.
Another hour passed, and now they were interrupted to clamouring on their bulkhead.
“What is it!” she roared at the door.
“Are you alive?” came back the muffled query.
“Yes! I’m…” she glanced at Matt. “Negotiating!”
“Negotiating what?” Matt asked.
“Negotiating what!!??” yelled the muffled Vorchan.
“Shut up!” she yelled back, then she looked at Matt, “Sorry, your survival, I guess. I should probably send the fleet ahead, Father would be annoyed at my loitering.”
“But they just had a… horrible war. They need to rebuild.” Matt argued.
“So they can attack us?” she asked.
“They never attacked you!” Matt argued.
“And what would you care, anyways?” she was standing again now, glaring down at him with accusation in her eyes. “From what you’ve told me, you killed most of them.”
“But not all of them! I mean, that’s genocide – which is what I’ve been charged with… but still! Your proposing actual genocide! The annihilation of the entire Raumen race. It would be all dragons.”
The Vorchan backed off at the mention of the word, growling. “How do you know that word!”
“It’s in books? Literature. Everywhere. On Earth anyways…”
“You can’t be from Earth!” she said, tail perked.
“I am. Crimson picked me up from there. Yeah yeah time and all that. I heard the spiel from Nolan I don’t want to hear it again.”
She tucked in her ears, staring straight ahead, trying to figure out what Matt was talking about, “Are you a slayer?” she asked sincerely.
“A dragonslayer?” Matt asked with a giggle, eyeing his pistol again.
“Yes!” she replied, dead-serious, her stance defensive.
“No.” Matt shook his head.
“Oh good.” she sighed, letting her wings droop a little. Her tail started to wag again.
Matt stared at the tail blankly, then at Ghost, who hadn’t set his gunsights off the Vorchan for a second.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Matt…” he replied carefully.
She touched one paw with the other, and Ghost suddenly collapsed by Matt’s feet. “My name is Rin. Let’s continue this conversation in my office!”
Matt immediately got up, the pain in his leg had subsided quite a bit, and his arm felt better. He drew his sword. “You aren’t capturing me!”
“Noir!” Rin roared.
The other Vorchans plowed through the open bulkhead. There were a lot of them, and they were all wearing exosuits.
Rin was coming up close again, like she had before, letting Matt press the blade against her scales. “Now we could do this the easy way… Or I could eat you.”
–
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