"Ye do me a favor, 'n I'll do ye one. Soonds fair enough, aye?"
Something about the smile on Russ's face made Kittenus worry. It reminded him of the smiles that the Fabsodes, those three muscle brain lunkheads, had given him before inviting him to Wrestling Camp. That had been an...educational experience. A part of him knew that he really should just back off, but there were two problems.
One, Kittenus really wanted to impress Shassera. He was definitely in love, or at least in lust, with the beautiful t'au warrior, and getting her into Cain's course would do that. Plus, it was the right thing to do, especially as Kittenus wanted to advance an agenda where all races were equal before the Empress, even if humans were more equal than others.
However, the other thing was, Kittenus had rather enjoyed his time at Wrestling Camp, even if the Fabstodes were a bit much. Really, Russ was quite beautiful, if you were into nearly two meter tall blondes with lots of scars, and could bench press you or a main battle tank.
Which Kittenus, bless his 19 year old horny heart, really, really was.
"Of course, Princess Russ, one favor deserves another. What can I do for you?"
The grin spread for a moment, then Russ nodded. "Tell ye what. I'm all sorts o' pent up noo. You fight me 'n that rematch ah wanted, and I'll do anything ye waant."
She stepped closer to Kittenus, causing him to suck in a breath. She smelled of sweat, and of strength, her body tense as if she were about to pounce. All sorts of warning bells went off in Kittenus's head.
Unfortunately, his lower brain overrode all of them and he nodded. "Of course. It's just a simple favor. Shassera would like to join Cain's class, and if you would just sign this-"
Russ glanced at the paper, grabbed it and the pen Kittenus had, and scrawled something illegible on it. "Dane. Noo c'moan. Nae here. Propar fights don't happen in a hoose."
Tucking the signed paper away, Kittenus followed after Russ. Something else was bothering him now, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She'd just led him behind the building, towards the woods that encircled the campus, when he realized what it was.
"Why, Ms. Russ, your speech!" he said before he managed to think, all his blood occupying a different part of his anatomy than his brain.
She whirled on him, pure murder in her eyes now. Kittenus hastily added, "It's different! You must have been working quite hard on it from yesterday, to have, er, changed it so much."
Eyes still smoldering with anger, and something else far hungrier, Russ growled, "'N' thare wis something wrong wi' howfur ah talked afore?"
"No, of course not, it's just a Fenris accent," Kittenus hastily explained. "Any reasonable person could understand you. But, well, you sound more...refined. I don't think less of you, of course, for speaking that way, but others might, and it shows a lot of wisdom to be willing to change, not to mention great intelligence to manage to adjust your accent so rapidly."
Russ chewed on that for a moment, as if she were weighting Kittenus in her mind. At last, she smiled and nodded. "That'll dae, Kitten. That'll dae. Comeon. A'm needin' that rammy mair than ever noo."
They made their way to a clearing, and Russ took off her shoes. Using her toes, she drew a circle about three meters in diameter. She removed her shirt as well, along with her loose sweat pants, leaving herself in a sports bra and panties. It was at least as modest as a swimsuit, or even some of the exercise gear Kittenus had seem some of the women wear, but still…
"Tak' aff that monkey suit o' yers. We fight noo under open sky, afore th' spirits o' wood 'n' stane. As flesh against flesh. Na metal, na tricks. Juist us."
Kittenus hastily complied, not wanting to get his uniform dirty anyway. He neatly pilled it off to the side, leaving on only his undershirt and boxers. He was grateful he didn't dress the way he had at Wrestling Camp, or this would have been extremely awkward. He wondered if Russ would say anything as he peeled off his right sock and boot, exposing the metallic joints and machinery of his augmentation. He was rather grateful when she glanced at it, then snorted and shook her head.
Stepping forward, Russ held out her left hand, the closest to the heart to Kittenus. He recognized the gesture. Heart against heart, hand against hand, a proper duel to the Clans. He slapped her palm with his own, and she smiled.
"Noo we see who's strongest."
Russ came straight at Kittenus, and he grunted as she slammed into him. She was barely shorter than he, only a few centimeters below his own two meters. She was strong too, but not as strong as he was he found. With a roar, he managed to push her back and away, then went in to shove her again, out of the circle.
No green fighter herself, Russ snarled and attacked Kittenus' legs, trying to get them out from under him. He managed to counter, and the two grunted and grappled. Soon they were down in the dirt, flipping one another over and over again, trying to get a pin. Both were skilled fighters, but Kittenus was the stronger, and a bit heavier. It was just looking as though he would managed to put that to use, when Russ bared her teeth and pulled a reversal on him he hadn't seen before, contorting her body in a way he didn't think possible.
"Ah will hae tae thank Horus," Russ grinned, putting Kittenus in an arm bar that would have been illegal in wrestling.
He tried to get out of it, but no matter how he squirmed, he couldn't manage it. At last, he tapped out. "I give. You got me."
"Och, ah dae," Russ agreed, leaning in close. "Noo, whit shuid ah claim fur mah prize?"
She positioned herself over Kittenus, pressing her body close against his. He blushed, feeling himself respond even more strongly. "I am...at your command, my lady."
"Urr ye noo?" Russ let Kittenus go, but he lay still. Russ draped herself over him, her mouth pressing fiercely against his. She parted after too short a time, panting just as much as Kittenus was. "Duin fur round twa?"
In response, Kittenus reached up and flipped her over, straddling Russ. "Yes," he whispered, placing his hand on Russ's stained and dirty clothing. "But first, let's slip into something more comfortable."
Round two proved even sweatier and more enjoyable than round one, though it was more than a bit of a fight again, with Russ competing to see who would end up on top. It was far different than Shassera, who would simply establish who was the dominant partner for a particular round, then play her part as leader or follower as required. For Russ, it was a constant struggle, one that didn't end until they were both lying spent in the dust.
During their activity, neither of them saw two pale blue eyes studying them from behind a bush. Nor did they hear the soft sounds the figure made in time with them. By the time either Kittenus or Russ were coherent again, the figure had slipped away, erasing all signs that they had been there, but taking with them that most precious of resources: information.
People were loud, messy, and complicated. They constantly found new and creative ways to break, they were always asking questions that were hard to explain, and worst of all, they watched you.
Now machines? Machines were simple. Machines broke, but you could always fix them and they didn't complain when you did. They never asked questions, only gave answers. And best of all, machines didn't care what your hands were made of.
That was why right now, Ferri Manus was in the machine shop at the Imperial Academy, sweating over a blazing forge. Her dark hair was tied up in a bun on the back of her head, her eyes covered with her goggles, face and arms stained with soot. But her hands...her hands were silver. As always.
She reached into the forge, retrieving the adamantite ingots. She didn't need gloves or even tongs to do it, her metallic hands easily grasping them. She laid the ingots out on the anvil, took up her hammer, and began to beat them.
Ferri Manus. A joke of a name. A name that had been given to her by the people of Medusa. They had thought it a way of saying thanks. Iron Handed. A sick joke.
Sweat poured down Ferri's brow, stinging her eyes. She told herself there were no tears mixed in there as she pounded the metal. Just as she had thought she had found her place in the world, as the Master Smith of Medusa, she was taken away.
So what was her place here? What shape was she being forged into? She had thought herself a hammer. A tool, a blunt instrument, but a useful one. Something that could create, or destroy. She had sought to reforge the land of Medusa, a formerly backwards nation far removed from the centers of power, plagued by monsters and beasts of iron and flesh. She had been close, so close to truly making something of Medusa.
And then She had come. The golden goddess that claimed to be Ferri's own mother. Everything that Ferri had worked all her short life to accomplish, from beating back the monsters, to advancing technology, to creating weapons and tools for the people of her home, the Empress had done with a simple wave of her hands. It was awe inspiring.
It was infuriating. How weak was Ferri, that she could not provide, could not create, on the level of her mother?
Taking the metal from the anvil, Ferri held it up. It would be an axe. Not a tool. A weapon. Something to destroy, not create. Appropriate, considering.
"Hey, I'm headin' on out. You hungry?"
Ferri blinked at the interruption, and found the smiling face of Phoebe looking in. She was sweat stained as well, her clothes clinging to her body now that she'd taken off her apron, her hair messy and tied up at the back of her head.
And yet, she was still beautiful. Her new sister was the most beautiful thing Ferri had ever seen. A sculpture, given human form. Not like Ferri.
"No. Maybe later," Ferri grunted, laying the axe back down. It wasn't perfect yet. She needed to work on it harder.
"Well, alright. I'll save you something, just do you don't go hungry. Don't stay too late, or I'll drag you back to eat myself! Can't have you starvin' on me," Phoebe said, but she smiled as she did so. She cared about Ferri.
"Thanks," Ferri grunted, lowering her head to the forge so Phoebe couldn't see her blush. If only Ferri could make things as perfectly as her sister...she just had to work harder. No weakness. No softness. No complaining. Get it done.
Ferri worked alone for a time, hammering away at what was becoming an axe. Soon, the base form of the weapon was finished. She quenched it, then held it up. It was yet flawed. Work to be done. Ferri went over to the grinder to sharpen the weapon, hefting the axe in her hands. It just needed work. Then it could be perfect. Like Phoebe was.
Ferri was just about to begin grinding down the edge the door opened. She looked up, wondering if Phoebe had come back early, or if Magnos Cawl had come to inspect her work. Instead, the Student Council President stepped into the room.
Nearly dropping the axe, Ferri backed up, swiftly putting her hands behind her back, her face going neutral.
"Hello? Magnos?" the President called. He winced as he closed the door, limping inside. He spied Ferri and blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, your highness, I didn't-"
"Don't call me that," Ferri said in exasperation. "I'm not- Look. I haven't earned being a princess. Not yet."
Not like Phoebe, or Horus. They were princesses. They were beautiful. Perfect. Not like Ferri.
"Er, alright. Have you seen the Magnos, Ms. Manus?"
"No," Ferri said quickly. "He's not here."
"Fantastic," the president groaned. He sighed and limped over to a workbench, easing himself down.
"Are you...injured?" Ferri asked slowly, sidestepping towards where she had left her gloves. If she could just get them on…
"Not exactly. I'm fine, but, well…" the President pulled off his right boot, revealing a silvery foot.
This time, Ferri really did drop the axe. She flinched, then hastily picked it up. She set it on a rack, then hurried over to the president, who was muttering and prodding at his foot.
Ferri knelt at the President's side, picking up his foot without asking. It was dented and damaged, clearly broken. She could fix this.
"Yes, I, ah, was sparring, and my foot was damaged," the President explained.
"Something hit this pretty hard," Ferri said, taking out a screwdriver and probing the damaged metal. "We should take this off."
"Not again. Please tell me I won't have to use crutches again," the President groaned.
Ferri looked up at him, startled. "What? The damage isn't that bad. I'll have this fixed in less than an hour."
"Thanks," the president sighed. "I hate for people to see me when I'm weakened."
"It's not your fault. You can't control…" Ferri trailed off, then hastily removed the foot with her tools, standing and putting her project on the workbench.
"I stepped on a mine," President said, nodding to the foot. "It was stupid of me. I knew the area was mined, but…"
"Why go into a minefield?" Ferri demanded. He didn't seem to be an idiot. At least, Ferri hoped not. A leader should be intelligent.
"Well...it was the shortest way to the hospital. I had almost made it across the minefield, and I stepped on one. Thankfully, Little Suzy wasn't injured. They got her the insulin in time too," the President sighed. "The sisters said if I'd gone the long way around, she probably would have died. Worth the foot, I suppose."
Ferri looked up, studying the President's face. He gave her a sheepish smile. She frowned. "What's your name?"
"I...my name is Kittenus, Ms. Manus."
"Kittenus what?" Ferri demanded.
"Just...Kittenus. They used to call me Sunshine, but really my name is Kittenus."
"Hmm. I'm Ferri. Not highness, not princess, not Ms. Manus. Ferri." She bent back to her task.
Kittenus was quite for a little while. That was nice. People talked too much. She glanced up and found him looking at her. Not at her hands, strangely enough, but at her face. He blushed and looked away, which made Ferri frown.
"Aren't you going to ask?" she said, going back to her work.
"You…don't mind?" Kittenus asked.
She shook her head. It was always the first thing most people said…
"What was it like, when-" when you lost your hands- "the Empress found you?"
For a second time, Ferri was surprised. She looked up, blinking.
"Sorry, I know, it's probably personal. I just...I want to be like her, you know? Able to lead, able to save everyone from danger," Kittenus sighed. "But how could an orphan here on a scholarship ever hope to measure up to Her example?"
"The Empress was...kind. She helped me. Helped Medusa," Ferri replied, taking out a hammer to bang the foot back into shape. Not too hard, just so, there and there.
"She helped Everest too. Found me when I was at the hospital. Gave me that," Kittenus said, nodding to the prosthetic. "I'd had to use crutches for years. Sent me to a high school at the district capitol. Then, when I graduated top of my class, she sent me an invitation to the Imperial Academy. We've only spoken a few times but...she's just so…"
"Yeah," Ferri agreed. "Perfect."
"Exactly," Kittenus sighed.
Ferri worked in silence again for a few minutes, and Kittenus was content to sit quietly. At last, she looked up at him. "Do you want to ask about the other thing?"
Kittenus looked at her hands this time. "If you want to talk about it."
Ferri considered that. To her surprise, she did. It wasn't every day she met someone who would understand.
"They're not augments. I didn't lose my hands. Not really. They're still in there. Somewhere." Ferri held up the metal foot, nodding to herself. "It's just a coating."
"Oh?" Now Kittenus openly studied Ferri's hands, curious. "How did that happen?"
"They called it the silver wurm. It was a monster. Ate people. Old techno sorcery." Ferri held up Kittenus' foot. It was whole again. But not perfect.
"It came for a settlement. I was there. Knew it was coming. Brought weapons."
The ground had trembled, the earth erupted, and the silver beast had swarmed forth. Death. Perfect, gleaming death.
"My work was flawed. Weapons broke." Ferri held up her hands, and her eyes shone with passion. "I didn't."
"You...fought the creature bare handed?"
"Yes. Lured it to my forge. Geothermal. Drowned it in lava. Had to hold it down. My hands...it covered my hands." Ferri looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn't feel anything, of course. Hadn't since that day.
"That sounds...painful," Kittenus said slowly, taking his foot from Ferri.
She shrugged. "It had to be done."
He nodded slowly, glancing down at his missing foot. "I...understand."
"I know. Worth it."
She helped Kittenus reattach his leg, then had him stand on it and flex it a bit.
"It's better than ever! Thanks. I'll try not to break it again," Kittenus said with a smile.
"If you do, come back. It's not perfect yet. I can make it better," Ferri promised.
"None of us are perfect," Kittenus sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. It was dark, like Ferri's own, though his was tightly curled instead of her straight black tresses. "I...screwed up today, I think."
"Not so bad. Better then metal foot than the other," Ferri pointed out.
"Not that. I...well, I didn't think things through," Kittenus admitted. "Now I have to make it right."
"Don't make it right. Make it better," Ferri told him, then retrieved her axe.
"Thank you," Kittenus said, bowing before she could leave. "I'm honored to have such a skilled and beautiful smith work on my foot. I'll treasure it."
Ferri tilted her head. Was he teasing her? No. He wasn't. "I'm not beautiful." She held up her hands to illustrate her point, then indicated her face. "They called me the Gorgon. Earned it."
Her skin was blotchy, scarred, weathered by the heat of the forge. She wasn't like Phoebe, who despise sweating over a forge, could come out looking as fresh as a spring day. She wasn't perfect.
"Beg pardon, Ferri, but I disagree. You're quite the striking woman. Besides, with your skills, you actually could have the face of a gorgon and still be beautiful."
Snorting, Ferri shook her head. "I'm not as good as Her."
She didn't need to say who she was talking about. No one measured up to the Empress.
"Maybe not. I don't seem to be able to live up to her example either."
Ferri looked down at her hands. "No. She wouldn't need hands like these. Ugly."
"Do you think my foot is ugly?" Kittenus asked, sounding bemused.
"No. Good workmanship."
"Well, your hands were well crafted too," Kittenus said.
"No. Just a mistake." She should have been stronger. Found a better way. Found a way to remove the metal, instead of coming to rely on it. They were stronger than the rest of her.
"How many people did you save, getting those hands? I just saved one person in exchange for my foot. How many Medusians still live because you slew that wurm?" Kittenus demanded.
Ferri blinked, then shrugged. How could she know that? "More would have lived if I'd been faster."
"Don't count the ones you could have saved," Kittenus told her. "Count the ones you did."
"Hmph." Ferri turned back to her work. Kittenus made for the door, walking steadily now.
"Come back," Ferri told him as he reached the door. She hastily added, "I'll check on the foot."
"Thanks," Kittenus said with a smile. "If you need anything, Ferri, let me know. I'm just a student, but I'll do what I can to repay the favor."
Ferri nodded, and he left. She turned back to her work, making the axe better.
For some reason, her hands felt warm. She wasn't sure why.