A/N: I did good on update speed this time, huh? You should probably be able to tell from this chapter and the next couple that Racing Light is a bit faster-paced than Project Mew was.
Calliope always found something new to marvel at whenever Lorem let her use his computer to hack Project Mew. The speed was breathtaking, the graphics beautiful, the interface easy to navigate and understand, even if you didn't read the Cyniclon's glyphic alphabet. And, as she'd found completely by accident, it didn't even register to the servers or firewall when you accessed a secure server. A Cyniclon computer was a hacker's best friend—and best of all, a miracle of technology that folded up smaller than a piece of gum, ran on solar power, and, when unfolded, was lighter than anything humans made. It didn't even really look like a computer, more like a screen used for holo-projections. In short, she loved it.
Her fingers darted across the smooth surface, tapping lightly on icons, tracing lines and arcs between them, until she finally pulled up the Project database. New notifications had appeared from various bases, which she skimmed, looking for patterns. Hits on the North Pole had gone down drastically in the last week alone—just before she left the Project the Cyniclons had strike teams going in every few hours, leaving the teams in the area worn out and paranoid, but now they hadn't attacked in nearly three days. Attacks on the bigger cities were also going down, and strikes in rural areas seemed to be increasing. Then she hit one which stopped her in her virtual tracks: the fall of Antarctica. The bat Mew gulped.
"Hey, Lor?" she asked, glancing across the cockpit of the Bug at her partner, who was the craft's only other occupant, as Hellebore had teleported on ahead to set up a temporary base and taken Lyra with him. The blue-eyed Cyniclon had several programs projected on the windshield interface, one of which he shut down as soon as she looked at him.
"Yes? Is something the matter?"
"Antarctica was one of Project Deep Blue's targets, wasn't it?"
His face lost all color in a heartbeat. "Oh, please tell me they didn't…"
"They apparently took over the base and killed off everyone there."
Lorem replied with an outburst of sharp hisses and a deep, throaty rumble, something Calliope assumed was a swear in his native tongue. "They're moving faster than I'd thought," he said. "I'd hoped my leaving would slow them down, but perhaps since I've compromised them, they accelerated the timeframe of the Project."
"Nice job screwing everyone over, hero," Calliope quipped. Lorem stared at her in confusion.
"First and foremost, you know full well that my name is not 'hero', and I have done nothing involving anyone and a cylindrical human implement used to hold two pieces together. Furthermore, wouldn't involving such a tool mean I repaired something?"
Calliope facepalmed. "No, Lor. It's slang. Basically, it means you ruined everything."
"Ah." Lorem gave her a long, unreadable look, before saying, "Human slang is confusing."
"Better confusing than unpronounceable."
"Only because you lack the required second set of vocal cords."
"Not my fault!"
"But an unfortunate side effect of being close to eighty-percent human."
"Seventy-five percent. I looked it up."
"Regardless, we've gotten off topic. We no longer have time to contact the Australian Mews as we planned. We'll have to go straight to our search, and that requires stealing a base ship."
"I know that! What do you think I am, stupid?"
"Headstrong, yes. Utterly fearless, yes. Reckless and occasionally foolish, yes. Stupid? No."
"Then why did you feel the need to remind me?"
"I have my reasons. Now, please, stop arguing with me and focus. I need you to get in touch with Hellebore and Lyra. Get them here as quickly as possible so we can plan our attack before carrying it out."
Calliope sighed, closed out of the Project's database, and quickly 'called' Hellebore's…well, she could only call it a tablet, since the device was much smaller and had less capacity than Lorem's computer. After a few seconds, the Cyniclon's face filled the screen.
"We're done setting up," he said bluntly. "You don't need to check in."
"That's not the issue," Calliope said. "Project Deep Blue apparently decided they were gonna move a bit quicker. Can you and Lyra break down the base and get back to the Bug in the next hour or so?"
Hellebore's ears twitched down and back at an angle Calliope interpreted as irritation, and his golden eyes narrowed slightly. He stared at her for a long minute—more of a glare than anything—and Calliope met the look evenly. Eventually he nodded his assent, a short, sharp jerk of his chin, and the screen blanked.
The bat Mew shut down the computer, watching in fascination as it automatically folded down to size, and leaned back in her seat to prop her feet up on the equivalent of a dashboard in a human car. Then, grinning, she accessed the Bug's computer and hacked the first heavy metal Earthnet-Radio station she could remember, looking for the perfect song to get her all pumped up and ready to rock. Lorem shot her a confused look.
"What?" the blonde asked defensively. "I like metal."
"If I don't try to listen to the English lyrics, it's all swearing in my language," Lorem said. Calliope grinned.
"That's awfully appropriate."
An hour and a half later, the four were reunited, armed with one of Lorem's plans—which rarely, if ever, went according to plan—and had located the nearest Cyniclon base ship. They stopped the Bug on an isolated island somewhere in the south Pacific, and Lorem activated the Bug's camouflage mechanism—an adaptation of a fairly common Cyniclon ability, the bending of photons around an object so it wasn't visible to the naked eye. Then Hellebore linked arms with Lyra and teleported.
Calliope nodded slightly. The plan was for Hellebore to put the two Mews on board first and leave them to cause chaos all over the ship while Hellebore incapacitated the commanding officers and Lorem hijacked the whole of the ship, grabbing ahold of and controlling every electronic command like a parasite manipulating a large and unruly host. The only issue with that plan was that he had to have access to the main computer, and for Lorem to get in safely, the others had to keep every Cyniclon on the ship away from the control room.
Before Calliope could get too antsy, Hellebore was back. The much-taller Cyniclon grabbed her wrist and teleported again. The strange jolting sensation, combined with a feeling of falling and drowning at the same time, reminded her why she preferred flying. She landed on the metallic floor of the ship with a clang, feeling vaguely nauseated and slightly off-balance. She shook her head to clear it and looked around.
Hellebore had evidently left while she recovered, and the corridor he'd dropped her in was empty. Shame, she'd been looking for a fight as soon as she landed. Calliope's ears twitched. Her animal DNA source, the Giant Golden-Crowned Flying Fox, relied more on its sense of smell than hearing, but her impaired vision meant she relied more on her ears than most Mews did, and a keen nose wasn't much use when the whole ship carried the damp-soil scent of Cyniclons. She heard Lyra yelling and the sound of fighting from the left corridor, grumbled slightly, and took off to the right.
Her boots pounded on the floor, clanging with each step. Calliope practically stomped to do it—her usual run involved her wings pushing her up and forwards rather than down, and she slammed her feet against the floor. Hopefully the noise would get the attention of any Cyniclon close by.
She slammed against one of the ship's weird oval doors, and it dilated open. The Mew exploded into the room—and promptly regretted it. Apparently, the red door meant that was where they were keeping the chimaera. Three huge, lizardlike monsters stirred from a scaly heap, while a smaller bearlike chimaera raised its head and blinked beady, aggressive eyes in her direction. Calliope's hand dropped to the hilt of her sword.
"Well, probably ought to get rid of 'em now before they become a problem later." She whipped the laser weapon from its holster, ramming down on the button that activated two meters of sizzling devastation.
The first lizardlike chimaera was up and after her in a matter of seconds. Calliope launched off the floor, wings whipping open and hurling her upwards. She twisted, boots hitting the ceiling and pushing her back towards the chimaera. Her sword flashed, unfortunately missing the monster's head but slicing off part of its forearm. It hissed, staggering back on three legs, and the one behind it lashed out at her with its tongue. She dove.
"Part chameleon, hey?" she said, bouncing off a wall to avoid the bearlike chimaera. Its claws slashed the air just above her ears, and she kicked it in the face. A faint hissing sound registered in her right ear, and she twisted aside just in time to dodge the sticky tongue of the third lizard chimaera.
A slash of her sword later and the chimaera's throat had been seared open. Its mouth gaped in surprise and a desperate attempt to get air flowing past the breach and into its lungs. Calliope ignored it after that. It would probably pass out in a minute or so anyway. She dodged the first and second ones' tongues, shooting up to the ceiling for a quick assessment of the battlefield.
All three remaining chimaera circled below her. The dying one was off a bit to the left, lying on its side in its death throes. The crippled chimaera lashed its tongue at her, and she dropped to avoid it—and ran straight into the bear chimaera's claws.
Calliope slammed into the wall and hit the ground hard. She sat up, wincing and shaking her wings to check for broken bones. Fortunately, none, but her left side and hip throbbed dully from hitting the wall, and four sharp points of pain jabbed at her on her right side. Probably bruising. She rolled just in time to dodge the uninjured lizard chimaera. She scrambled up and backed into the doorway, holding her sword out in front of her.
Something warm and wet splattered onto her right hand. Calliope looked down for a split second and saw red. Blood. Now that she noticed, the hair hiding the right side of her face was clinging and soaked.
Crap. That hit must've reopened that old injury.
"Stay back, damn you," she said, brandishing her sword threateningly. "I came to kick ass and chew bubble gum, not get my ass kicked."
The bear chimaera stepped forward, and she slashed her sword at it. It staggered back, roaring, with both eyes seared shut and the wound across its face cauterized as it was made. The other chimaera studied her, heads tilting.
"Yeah. Bring it. I'll take you out." She feinted, then leapt at the crippled chimaera, sword swinging. Its head rolled like a lopsided bowling ball.
The uninjured chimaera lunged at her, and she spun aside to avoid it. She ducked the blinded chimaera, leapt over the uninjured one, and shot straight up towards the ceiling before reversing directions and spearing the uninjured one through the right rear leg. Its tongue ripped her sword out of her hand, and she drew her knives in time to block its next attack.
The next part went astonishingly smoothly: she sliced the tip of the lizardlike chimaera's tongue off, dodged its claws, got up under its neck, and scissored her knives across its throat. It flailed backwards, spouting blood from its carotid artery. The blinded chimaera lunged at her, and she dodged it as well. A leap into the air landed her on its back, and she rammed the larger of her two knives home into the base of its skull. Down it went.
It was only after she retrieved her sword from where it lay over by one of the walls that she noticed the strange noises coming from the loudspeakers. It took her a few seconds to recognize it as Cyniclon speech, and a few seconds more to recognize Lorem's voice. Her ears lowered.
"Shit."
Quite frankly, Lorem was surprised nothing had gone wrong yet by the time he reached the ship's control room. Usually by that point some unexpected factor had come into play—a change in tactics, a person who shouldn't have been there, Calliope goofing—but so far, things had gone off without a hitch. Which bothered him. Lorem liked plans, and he liked when they worked, but he'd found that improvising whenever someone threw a wrench in the works was possibly more fun than the original plan itself.
He walked silently into the control room and was disturbed to find it deserted. There should have at least been one person in there, monitoring the controls and gauges to make sure the fighting didn't damage the ship, but it was entirely empty. His long ears tilted and turned, and his eyes darted around the room before looking up at the ceiling just to make sure no one was lying in wait for him. Nothing. Odd…but he would take it.
He padded softly to the control board and swiped his fingers across the smooth, glassy panel. It lit up, throwing holograms in the air above it and displaying various symbols and glyphs on the screen in front of him. Lorem nodded slightly, feeling the paths and intentions of the electricity inside the machine. A warm brightness responded in his core, the electricity in his body responding to his slightest thought. Tendrils of lightning sparked between his fingertips and the control board.
He nodded again, information flashing from the ship into his neurons. In a way, the ship was becoming an extension of his body, almost like the nano-weapon he wielded in combat, which was currently wrapped around his right forearm in the form of a bracer, only the ship would be far clumsier and less responsive since it wasn't programmed for a user to interface directly from brain to computer.
Abruptly, the control room's security registered someone entering. Lorem snapped out of it, jolting himself away from contact with the ship, and whirled around to face the person who had entered. His heart nearly stopped. He knew that person…and he could already tell this wouldn't be a happy reunion.
The intruder smiled, flashing sharp eyeteeth. His bright blue eyes sparkled—would have looked playful if it weren't for the edge in them. His thick blond hair, as always, was pulled back in a long ponytail. He had a few centimeters on Lorem, but otherwise…the only way Lorem could put it was that they wore each other's face. Mirror images.
"I knew you'd be back," the intruder said.
"Illium," Lorem said. "What do you want?"
Illium frowned at him. "What, you aren't excited to see me? When I felt you on the ship, I thought for certain you'd realized the mistake you were making and coming back home."
"What gave you that idea?"
"Why else would you be back?" The blond Cyniclon walked closer. Lorem backed up, placing his hand against the control board in exactly the right spot to turn on the PA system.
"Not to come back to the Project. I can't, in good conscience, come back to a group that wants to commit mass murder when I've found another way to fix things."
"Oh, please. The terraformer? It's a defunct piece of garbage by now, and even if you could get the right parts you would be too slow. The Council got tired of waiting, Lorem. They've already sent Ao's team backup. That base won't last the week, and then all we have to do is focus on the last location. Your gamble isn't going to pay off."
"I've made my bets, and I refuse to forfeit. If you want me to come back, you will have to drag me."
"So be it."
Lorem quickly regretted it. Illium was less powerful, but he made up for it with impressive control of his nano-weapon. The 'blade' was in the blond's hands in a flash, and Lorem barely dodged his mirror's strike. His own weapon was up in a second, shifting into a shield, which just barely deflected the next strike. It shifted again, back into a sword, and he lunged. His sword-tip sliced through a few strands of hair beside Illium's face. Illium, in response, smashed his sword's hilt into the side of Lorem's head. The black-haired Cyniclon staggered, stumbling back against the control panel. Illium grabbed him by his collar and pulled him upright.
"Drag you back, Lorem? You should have agreed to come quietly. It would have been much less pai—" A large black object struck Illium in the back of the head, almost knocking the blond over. He was forced to drop Lorem, who rolled away as best he could.
"Touch him again and I'll rip your arms off and stick 'em in your ears." Lorem had never been so glad to see Calliope in his life.
The projectile, evidently, had been Calliope's right boot. The left one was still in her hands, and she stood on the floor in her socks. Her hair was clotted with blood, her clothing stained with it—both her own and something else's. She looked bruised and battered and utterly furious.
"Who do you think you are?!" Illium demanded, switching to English.
"Calliope," the Mew replied. "Now it's in your best interest to piss off before I make good on my threat."
"Hm. I'll take that risk." Illium lunged, nano-weapon snapping back into a blade. With practiced ease, Calliope's knives whipped out of their sheathes and were up in a cross-block just as Illium's blade hit them and her boot hit the floor. Mew and Cyniclon strained against each other for a moment.
Then the end of Illium's sword warped, striking at her face. Calliope ducked it and planted her foot in his chest, hurling him across the room. She leapt after him, knives slashing. They darted around the control room, weapons throwing reflected light and bodies casting shadows. Lorem stayed out of the way.
Suddenly, Calliope slammed Illium across the room and into a wall with a well-timed hilt strike to his sternum. He staggered upright, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"You're a good fighter. I understand Lorem's attraction."
Calliope glared daggers. "If you're trying to flirt after attacking Lor, it ain't gonna work. I don't like you."
"…It's a pity you're so ugly," Illium finished. Calliope steamed.
"Say it again, rat-face. I'll rip out your tongue and feed it to you."
"That would be my cue to leave," Illium replied, a taunting look on his face. He turned and fled out one of the doors. Calliope started after him.
"Wait," Lorem said, standing cautiously. His head throbbed where Illium's blow had landed. Calliope turned towards him, bright ruby eye softening.
"You okay?" she asked, ears pricked.
"For the most part," he replied. "You look terrible."
"Thanks," she replied sardonically. "So who was that guy, your evil clone or something?"
Lorem's right ear twitched. "Or something."
Fun Fact: When translating gendered nouns or pronouns, Cyniclon language uses the suffix -a for a male, -ai for a female, and -i for groups or individuals without specified gender. Therefore, rendered properly, a male Cyniclon would be Cyniclon-a, a female would be Cyniclon-ai, and if you couldn't tell, Cyniclon-i. Note, 'Cyniclon' is the proper name for their species, much in the way 'human' is the proper name for ours.