Nothing Good Goes Unpunished

by Montagne0

Regarding Inter-Dimensional travel, the Golden Rule is, "keep quiet and tread lightly, for you never know who's out there listening". Ratchet just wished somebody had warned him before. Now, old enemies make their return just as new ones emerge from the shadows. And take a guess on who they're all after?

12. Chapter 12: Breaking Point (Part 2)

Each step was like thunder, reverberating throughout miles and miles within the city. Four, multi-jointed legs carried it forward, the asphalt itself giving up beneath its great mass. The war-machine left shallow craters in its wake as it advanced, the uneven urban terrain posing no impediment to it. Obstacles and barricades were flattened beneath its gigantic metallic feet.

Avizia sat in her throne-like seat, data being continuously fed to her brain through long cables. They descended from the ceiling of the war-machine's small command centre, snaking down like branches before disappearing into sockets in the back of her head, straight into her brain implants. Her expression was neutral, yet she could feel electricity surging throughout her bones. Her long fingers drummed against the armrest.

There was much activity within the cramped confines of the command centre, the Kartisian crewmembers working tirelessly at the many consoles and monitors; the electronic beeping filled the air. Avizia ignored all of them, her attention focused solely on the task at hand.

She grinned. Her Voice had granted them an unprecedented honour; for eight years Avizia and her crew had served the Restorationist cause flawlessly, fighting on so many battlefields that she had long since lost count. She wasn't big on the whole religious stuff that came with it, but she could respect strength when she saw it.

The world around her shook as the Manticore Siege Walker continued its slow, yet inexorable advance. Avizia and her crew were leading such majestic war-machine into battle, ready to carve a bloody path through their enemies. A mighty engine of war, it had once been common in the old empire, some of its most elite legions able to field dozens of such machines to support them into battle.

She frowned, and her grimace was a pain-filled one. So much had been lost with the fall of Kartyn, and thirty years of constant conflict had grinded down their most powerful machines. Yet, the very fact that a single one had finally been brought back into service was great news, made all the sweeter by the fact that, thanks to the knowledge of their robotic "allies", many more Manticores would take the field. Eventually, of course.

Her earpiece crackled. "Ma'am, our sensors are detecting energy signatures coming our way from the north-west. The readings match those of Markazians IFVs and other light vehicles," her exec reported over the comm-link.

Avizia simply nodded, then punched a couple of buttons on her console in quick succession. A soft grin appeared on her features. "Acknowledged. Gunner, prepare firing solution. We are not stopping, so keep that into account."

"Copy that, ma'am. It shouldn't be a problem." Then, after a couple of seconds, he added. "Firing solution ready. Moving turret twenty degrees to the starboard side. Particle cannon charging . . . now."

Avizia had no need of seeing it. She could feel it. Settled in her command throne, she could feel everything around her. The tiniest vibration; the smallest sub-routine operating at full capacity; the buzzing systems as they relayed information to each other at light speed. The Manticore, her war-machine, spoke to her in the kind of subtle language only an experience vehicle commander could understand.

The Manticore trudged along. Suddenly, Avizia felt a mighty shockwave slamming into her from the side. The metal bulkheads around groaned and rattled, yet they held firm.

"Damage report!"

"Contact, starboard side," her exec replied immediately, feeding data to her console. "Distance is half a klick. Multiple vehicles signatures have been detected." He looked up with a sly grin. "All systems operational, ma'am. The most they've done was scratching our paintjob."

Avizia laughed with delight. "Then let's reply in kind!"

Those foolish Markazians truly believed they could stop their advance? That they could pierce the Manticore's thick hide? The main turret on its arched back swung around, the cannons' electronic sights settling on the target, following the data being fed to them.

No further command was necessary. Her gunner had already the targets zeroed on his systems. He pushed one innocuous-looking button on his console and, a moment later, a keening wine filled the air as the weapon charged up.

The following discharge was sharp, akin to a cloth being teared apart. The solid, blue particle beam cut through the air in an eyeblink, its hue reflected onto the buildings on either side of the road. The Markazian vehicles were hiding behind constructions and buildings, peering out from behind them just long enough to send shells and rockets against the Manticore. In the end, it helped them none.

The turret on top of the Manticore swung around in an arch, directing the powerful and murderous beam. The Markazians never saw it coming; their vehicles went up into mighty fireballs as the particle cannon touched them, or were simply sliced apart, together with stone and concrete.

The fight lasted for barely four seconds, then the gunner cut the power to the main weapon, letting it cool off. A glance at a nearby consoles revealed no more enemy signatures. In the distance, a groan filled the air as some of the buildings came crashing down, their support beams having been chewed up by the Manticore's particle cannon.

"Ma'am, all targets neutralized," the gunner noted with evident satisfaction. "I count at least six destroyed targets. I'm not receiving any further signature."

Avizia nodded, a wide grin on her face. "Excellent work! That should teach them not to mess with us!" Agreements echoed around her within the tight confines of the Manticore's command centre.

"Ma'am, incoming communication from Epsilon. It sounds urgent," her comm-officer announced. Avizia nodded and activated her comm-link.

"Manticore, this is Epsilon speaking! We're taking heavy losses and my Pack is falling back! Where in the fuck are you?!"

Avizia frowned. Dammint, she had almost forgotten about that. No matter; she would soon add a new kill to her count.

"Acknowledged, Epsilon. We are one minute away. Continue moving back and clear us a line of fire on the warbot." She swung around in her chair. "Do we have targeting solutions already?"

"Yes, ma'am. Data is already being elaborated. Scanners are fully operational and locking on target."

"Good. Full speed, then. Let's get in close and be done with it."

The exec looked up, perplexed. "But . . . ma'am, our main gun requires time to recharge. The particle cannon won't be ready before we-"

"So what? We aren't defenceless. Our secondary guns will make short work of one single warbot." Her grin broadened in anticipation. "It won't be a clean kill, but it will be a kill nonetheless. Now, let's go turn some robot into a pile of scraps!" Her crew cackled in agreement around her. Avizia activated her comms a second time.

"Draconis Five, Manticore speaking. How copy, over?"

"Manticore, Draconis Five. Solid copy, what do you need?"

"We have a warbot problem at hand. How about you and your guys come lend us some help? I was thinking about some good-old bait-and-switch, over."

A sinister chuckle crackled throughout the link. "Gladly. We'll give it something to focus its attention. Try to get a move on before we decide to demolish it on our own. Draconis, over and out."

Ω

The wreckages of Scorpion Tanks were scattered across the plaza, blackened and burning, billowing smoke filling the air. Craters littered the stone pavement, its surface glassed in places by the heat of burning plasma. In a similar way, Kartisian bodies laid on the ground where they had fallen by the dozens, broken and smouldering, their broken weaponry laying by their side. Green-coloured blood run through the cracks and spaces between the pavement's old, rectangular stones.

Kit's eye-sensors blinked, slowly, as her red eyes looked around and surveyed her brutal handiwork. The fight had been hard, that much was certain, but she was having trouble piecing together exactly what had happened in the last five minutes. The images came back to her in sudden, incoherent bursts, frozen frames making little sense on their own.

There was now silence, the sounds of battle having died down some time before. A soft, cold breeze had picked up, stirring the old and tattered Markazian flags still hanging by the hotel. The Kartisians had fallen back by now, quickly and in panic, yet Kit suspected that they would be back. That's what her tactical subroutine pointed to anyway.

She blinked again and activated her integrated heat-scanners. The fires raging all around caused some interference, drowning her vision in a sea of flaring reds and yellows, yet she could make up figures moving at the edge of the plaza. The surviving Kartisians had taken cover inside craters and behind upturned slabs of stone.

Kit checked her ammo and energy reserves, finding them stable at about seventy-five percent. Meanwhile, in her motherboard, the tactical subroutine continued elaborating at full capacity. Blocks of data flared before her eye-lenses.

". . . PRIMARY OBJECTIVE ACHIEVED. ENEMY ASSAULT NEUTRALIZED. ENEMY CASUALTIES AT ABOUT THIRTY-SEVEN DEAD, ONE-HUNDRED AND FIVE WOUNDED. NINE ENEMY TANKS DESTROYED, FOUR HEAVILY DAMAGED . . ."

Kit nodded slowly. She had tried so hard not to keep score of all that; of all the destruction she caused, of all the death and loss she inflicted. It was the reminder of a darker period of her life, one that was finally over. However, old habits refused to die. Another message from her tactical subroutine flared up.

". . . EXCELLENT WORK, KT-7461 . . ."

". . . THE EMPEROR IS PROUD OF YOUR SERVICE . . ."

Kit froze. Her trail of thought came to a sudden and screeching halt right there, right in that very moment. A surge of electricity coursed throughout her metallic body. Her mighty fists went tight as she squeezed them. She blinked once, then twice, her eye-sensors switching from red to blue, and then back to red in quick succession.

Eventually, she shook her head.

'It's nothing. It's just a system bug . . . yeah, that's what that is. I forgot to update my tactical subroutine and it still displays the old congratulatory message for an accomplished task. It's okay, I can fix it later . . .'

She looked down, and her lenses blinked one final time before returning to their natural light-blue colour. And then they widened.

Her once-pristine, yellow chassis was covered in black soot and caked with dirt. The surface was marred and scarred by the signs of plasma burns, as well as the occasional dent in her shoulder-plates. And finally, there was something on her colossal fingers. Wet, green, and slick, it dripped down onto the pavement; she run a brief scan on it.

It was organic.

'Oh . . . Oh dear, what . . . w-what have I done?'

There was a whistle through the air. Something smashed straight into her armoured chest and detonated, the shockwave sending Kit staggering back with an electronic groan. The first rocket was followed by another projectile, hard solid this time. It crashed violently against her side before bouncing away and embedding itself into the ground.

Hollers resounded from the other side of the plaza, and Kit's sensors warned her of movement coming her way.

Thirty figures broke through the smoke; their thundering steps echoed across the plaza as they advanced forward, hi-tech armour glinting while their pistons whirred and hissed.

The Kartisian Shieldbearers jogged across the open ground in a loose formation. Kit's sensors zeroed on the array of weapons at their disposal. Plasma cannons; heavy chainguns; gauss rifles and railguns; the occasional shoulder-mounted missile launcher. It was the kind of arsenal designed solely to crack open heavy armour. Like hers, Kit reasoned grimly. The Kartisians were done playing around.

The power armour-wearing troopers came to a synchronized halt a few hundred meters from her and raised their weapons as one. Even from a distance, Kit detected the unmistakable signature of weapons charging up. She wasted no time; from her back, the jetpack flared to life with a pair of flaming gushes. The next moment she launched herself upward and was airborne; Kit propelled herself up in the air and forward, toward the Shieldbearers.

The sharp crack and whistling of weapons came from somewhere below as the first volley struck where she had been standing, blowing a considerable crater into the ground. Eye-lenses narrowed in determination, Kit sailed through the air, both her massive hands raised as she cut off power to the jetpack, her trajectory carrying her squarely in the midst of the enemy formation.

One of the Shieldbearers lowered his still-smoking missile launcher, squinting to where his target should have been. Then, coincidentally, he glanced up as the whistle of a falling warbot reached his ears. He disappeared the next moment beneath Kit's massive fists with a wet crunch. Dust and broken stone flew, and cracks appeared on the ground upon impact.

From her landing crouch, Kit rose, the plasma cannons on her arms already looking for a new target. Her sight settled on another Shieldbearer some distance away, and Kit fired both weapons.

With incredible speed, the Kartisian dashed out of the way thanks to her enhanced power armour, the burning plasma bolts missing her by a few inches. She rolled on the ground, came to a stop in a crouch, and then raised her own weapon. Kit shuddered in pain as the plasma lance smashed with a hiss of intense heat against her shoulder plate. It failed to penetrate Kit's armour, but the scorch mark it left was considerable.

A chain-gun barked behind, and armour piercing bullets clattered against her back. Kit swung around and brought her weapons to bear. She fired a second time, but to no avail. Once again, her aggressor leaped out of the way, servos whirring under the strain. And once again, Kit found herself been struck from behind, this time by a railgun aiming for the join in her leg. For a brief moment, Kit staggered, on the verge of losing her balance, but quickly shifted her weight around, regaining her stance and managing to dodge an incoming missile.

Kit let out an irritated growl of electronics, raising both arms and opening fire at every enemy she could see, a veritable hailstorm of hot, burning plasma erupting from her cannons. Not one bolt struck home; the Shieldbearers sprinted and leaped out of the way of the incoming barrage, their power armours giving them all a frightening level of mobility on the battlefield, only to find a blind spot to fire back at her.

Kit's sensors went slant in her best imitation of a frown. She recognized what their plan was; keep moving around and wear her down. It was a simple, yet an effective stratagem; one that, as much as it pained her to admit it, she was ill-suited to counter. The armament and armour in her warbot form made Kit an excellent choice in straight-up fights, but Nefarious had never been one to focus on subtlety when designing his war-machines.

Kit hissed as boiling-hot plasma smashed against her chassis, forcing her to raise both arms to shield herself. That left her open to the pair of gauss rifles waiting just behind. She caught the signature of both weapons charging up, twisting around, but it was too late. The first hissing projectile missed her, while the second sharpened cone of solid metal lodged itself into her armoured side. Kit let out a pained grunt, and sparks from severed electronics flew out from the hole in her chassis.

". . . WARNING! ARMOUR INTEGRITY COMPROMISED! DAMAGE REGISTERED TO INNER POWER CORES. OFFENSIVE SYSTEMS LOSING POWER . . ."

Kit tried to ignore the flashing message before her eye-lenses. She raised her left arm once more, lining another shot while the Kartisians were busy reloading. The twin-linked plasma cannons glowed for one single moment, spluttered out a violent shower of sparks, and then, much to Kit's horror, lost all power.

". . . WARNING! PLASMA CANNONS NUMBER THREE AND FOUR OFFLINE. POWER FLUCTUATIONS DETECTED. PLEASE, FOR REPAIRS CONTACT YOUR CLOSEST IMPERIAL FACILITY AND COMPILE MODULE 77-KTPF TO RECEIVE ASSISTANCE. HELP US IMPROVE OUR SERVICE, BY ANSWERING OUR QUEST-. . ."

Kit winced as another plasma bolt exploded against the back of her chassis, nearly missing her head, but leaving a considerable burnt.

'That was too close, and I'm too exposed out here.'

Dozens of warnings were flaring before her eyes, warning her of systems close to the breaking point and drowning her with constant damage reports. Kit was running out of time and energy in equal manner, and it was only a matter of time before the Shieldbearers struck something vital, even if by chance. It was time to pull back to the others and leave. She had bought them plenty of time by now.

The jetpack flared and spluttered behind her, damaged but with enough power to carry her to safety. Once again, Kit went airborne. She angled her body toward the hotel and let her thrusters carry her in that direction, soaring through the air. Fire from the ground, be it in the form of chainguns or plasma guns, exploded all around her, but not once they hit Kit. It was sparse anyway, as if they were not even interested in shooting at her.

Curious as to why, Kit's head swivelled around. Her eyes widened the moment several crimson-red icons appeared on her screen, warning her that she had just been locked-on by several weapon systems. She did not need the warning, however. Kit could see it.

A four-legged, heavily-armoured and armed walker had just stepped inside the plaza, coming to a stop. Nearly five-stories tall, its forelegs bent slightly backward. The whole construct seemed to have been built to imitate an ancient, colossal animal. Its armour plates shone under the light, making stand out the elaborate carvings covering their surface.

A massive beam cannon stood up from its back, secured to a revolving turret that sported several other weapon's systems. And at its front, where the mouth should have been, was an array of smaller yet numerous weapons, shaped as if they were tusks protruding outward.

For the first time up to that point, Kit felt something. It was not a feeling she had ever experienced so fully, not before that very moment; an overwhelming sensation spreading across her circuits and slipping into her motherboard.

Was it fear? Dread? Whatever its name, Kit had no time to describe it. She was in mid-air, far from any possible cover, and the thing had her in its sights.

The gargantuan machine shifted its pawn-shaped feet and braced itself. The reason for that became apparent the next moment, as its forward-facing weaponry charged up with a soft whirring and crackling of static electricity.

The following flash was blinding, brighter than a sun as dozens of lasers fired as one. The sounds of each weapon's discharge drowned each other out, joining together in one single, mighty roar.

Kit had barely the time to twist herself around in mid-air and raise both metal arms to protect herself, for the barrage slammed into her the next moment. The sizzling heat was overwhelming; her armour groaned under the onslaught, burning hot-white. Alarms flared and wailed throughout Kit's systems.

Eventually, the jetpack spluttered and died, and Kit found herself cartwheeling and spinning inelegantly through the air. Panic mounting, Kit tried to reactivate her thrusters, but it was too late. They were no longer responding to her commands. As the ground below rushed up to meet her, Kit could only squeeze her eye-sensors shut and brace herself for impact.

The earth shook around her upon the crash. A great cloud of dust rose high toward the sky, just as shards of stones flew through the air. Dirt rained down on her chassis. The fall would have been catastrophic had it not been for her armour.

Despite all the punishment it had been subjected upon the past hour, Kit had to begrudgingly admit that the Emperor knew what he was doing when he designed her for the first time. A lesser warbot would have exploded upon impact; in that case, Kit was simply inundated by notifications about widespread systems failure.

Slowly, her eyes-lenses creaked open, and Kit found herself staring at an orange-hued, afternoon sky, the shadows from nearby buildings stretching across the plaza as the sun began sinking beyond the horizon.

Laying down in a crater of her own making, Kit tried to lift herself up, but to no avail.

". . . WARNING! NO RESPONSE FROM SERVOMOTORS. EXTENSIVE DAMAGE REPORTED TO CIRCUITRY. PLEASE, STANDBY FOR REROUTING . . ."

With a sense of mounting panic, Kit tried again to raise her arms, but they remained sprawled where they were. She whipped her head frantically around; there had to be something she could do, some systems still functioning. From far away came the sound of thunderous steps, and Kit knew that machine was again on the move. She had to get out of there before the pilot had the time to finish her off.

'Or maybe they will simply decide to crush me underfoot.'

A nasty picture wormed its way into her system, and Kit shook her head. She struggled to reactivate her locomotion systems. Nothing happened. Too many inputs in too little time had caused a system wide crash.

Footsteps came her way; smaller, yet loud all the same. Through the smoke came a Shieldbearer, a bulky, long-barelled railgun laying against his shoulder. Kit could only estimate the weight of the gun, but it did not seem to bother him all that much.

As he came closer, Kit could finally get a better look at his power-armour. Thick armour plates covered his body in an all-encompassing body suit, leaving just enough space between the single plates for the wearer to move comfortably. His head was entirely encased in a helmet, built precisely to contain the Kartisian's elongated muzzle. A pair of tubes snaked from the back, joining together in the front of the helmet to form an oxygen mask.

Two pairs of blinking-red sensors stood out where his natural amber eyes should have been. He came to a stop by her side, tilting his head as the two locked gaze. The whirring of the powerpack on his back could be heard. A blood-red, four-eyed skull was emblazoned on his chest plate.

The Kartisian let out a guttural sound, something that might have resembled either a groan or a cackle, the electronic crackling coming from his speaker warping it beyond recognition. He lifted the railgun from his shoulder, flipped a switch and the weapon began to glow, charging up.

Kit's eyes widened in realization. He tried once more to rise from the crater, to bash him aside before he had time to finish her off. It was of no use; her systems refused to obey her any longer.

Was it truly the end?

Had she gone that far, stopping the Emperor and saving the entire universe from a dimensional catastrophe, only to be destroyed there, all alone and away from her friends?

He certainly seemed to think that way.

"End of the road, bot," the Kartisian spat through his integrated speaker. "Metal and circuitry are nothing compared to flesh and blood, and Her blessing." He raised the weapon, lining it up for a point-blank shot against Kit's head. One that she was now powerless to stop.

"This one is for Brother Vahus," he hissed venomously. The railgun whirred, the magnets lining the barrel fully charged and ready. Kit closed her eye-sensors shut, bracing herself for the inevitable air-renting crack of the gun's firing.

What she did not expect to hear, however, was the blaring claxon. Neither did the Kartisian, for that matter.

He looked up just in time to catch glimpse of a fast-moving, armoured and six-wheeled truck as it slammed right into him. The vehicle came to a sudden stop, tires screeching, and the Shieldbearer was unceremoniously thrown back and onto the ground in a heap of flesh and metal. The blaster turret on top of the vehicle swung around and sent out a barrage of hissing plasma towards the rest of the Kartisians waiting some distance away, forcing them to scatter. Looking up, Kit noticed a wide-grinning Phantom manning it.

The Kartisians fired back, but a Void Repulser had been haphazardly nailed on the front of the vehicle, absorbing incoming projectiles. The driver seat burst open, and Clatchky jumped out, sprinting towards a downed Kit before jumping on top of her chest. He was holding something cylindric in his hands, sweating profusely all the while.

"Alright girl, this one might sting a little bit," he said, forcing himself to smile. He pressed a button on the strange device, causing it to glow. Then, without another word, Clatchky plunged it straight into the power-core in her chest.

At first, Kit felt nothing. Then, her entire chassis shuddered violently. The red warning signs projected before her eye-lenses blinked out of existence, and were replaced by a single, blue-hued message.

". . . EMERGENCY OVERRIDE AUTHORIZED. STANDBY . . ."

Kit let out a surprised yelp as her body shrunk in size, reverting back to her miniature form. She blinked, managing with some surprise to finally stand outright, her locomotive functions seemingly restored. Looking down for a moment, she flexed her metallic fingers, making sure they were properly responding.

"Thank you. How did you-" She never had time to finish as Clatchky immediately scooped her up in his arms. He climbed out of the crater she had been in, and raced back to the waiting truck as fast as his legs could carry him.

"No time to explain, girl!" was all she managed to hear between ragged breaths. He tossed Kit into the passenger seat before climbing himself into the one for the driver.

"Get back, Phantom! We are leaving!" he snarled back, and the next moment the Rilgarian dropped back inside, shutting close the port on the roof on his way in. Looking back and over her shoulder, Kit noticed him shooting her a wide grin.

"Hey, Kit! How's it go-" The grin immediately died down as he looked out of the front window.

"Oh no."

Clatchky was not that contained.

"Ah, shit."

He went for the steering wheel and the gearbox. Kit snapped her head back in front, her eye-lenses widening at what she saw outside of the windshield.

The Shieldbearers rose slowly, struggling to shake off his dizziness. A good chunk of his facemask had been broken, the sensors no longer active, forcing him to struggle as he tried to remove it. There was a loud snap as he finally managed to rip off his faceplate. Bronze-coloured scales glinted under what remained of the afternoon sunlight, and four, hate-filled eyes settled on Kit. The Kartisian had a nasty a head-wound, blood leaking on his face, but he did not care. He lifted his gun once more, snarling.

"Oh no, you don't!"

Clatchky slammed down on the gas pedal. Both Kit and Phantom were yanked back as the truck shoot ahead, except the Rilgarian had no seat to hold on. Kit heard him spat a loud curse.

The Kartisian leaped out of the way, depressing the trigger in the hurry. There was a hiss, a crashing of glass as the windshield exploded, then the groan of exploding metal. Kit winced but nothing happened. The sabot round from the railgun had passed through the vehicle, leaving a gaping hole in the back, but nobody was hurt.

Clatchky cursed as he swung the truck around, tires screeching across uneven ground, before heading straight for a side street leading outside the plaza. Rockets, plasma bolts and rounds slammed all around them, kicking up smoke and dirt.

Engine groaning, the truck raced on and on, Clatchky leading it with a series of twist and turns as far away as possible from the battle. It was a testament to his skill as a driver that not once they were hit.

Tentatively, Kit rose in her seat to glance at the rear-view mirror. The small bot half-expected to see the Kartisians in hot pursuit behind, their visors glowing red with fury and howling for vengeance, yet not one was in sight. The sounds of battle had died down, and the colossal war-machine had seemingly disappeared as well, thought Kit was confident it was still out there.

"I think we got far enough," Phantom said, looking behind and through the gaping hole left in the vehicle's rear. "I don't see them anymore."

Clatchky nodded. His hands were still clutching tightly at the wheel, but he pulled back from the gas a little, and the truck slowed down. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon by that point, but the evening darkness had yet to descend completely. The last rays of light illuminated abandoned buildings and shops as they raced past them in a blur.

By Kit's side, Clatchky fidgeted with the radio for a while before giving up. "Broken," he noted sourly. "We're on our own then."

"Hey, by the way," Kit heard Phantom say, just as she felt his gloved hand on her shoulder. His visor was up, and Kit noticed the bruises on the Rilgarian face. Even then, he was grinning.

"I kinda owe you one, you know. I wouldn't be here otherwise." He let out a soft chuckle, thought Kit detected some clear unease in his tone. Still, she nodded in response.

"There . . . there is no need to thank me, I assure you," Kit said awkwardly. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" Clatchky shot her a glance. "No offense, girl, but 'nothing' is not how I would describe that. Saving our collective hides, I mean. Does Rivet know you can turn yourself into one big arsenal?"

"Yes," Kit said simply. "She . . . she is aware I can do that."

Clatchky chuckled. "And she forgot to mention it to us? Like, at all? Not exactly what I would have expected, but then again, it's Rivet we're talking about. She has her quirks." He turned his attention back on the road. "How are you feeling, by the way? I hope the Bypasser had no side effects. I'm still working on that thing."

"It was certainly rough," Kit admitted. She was quick to add, "I do appreciate your intervention, however. Admittedly, I am not used to being subject to that kind of abuse, and the damage on my systems is extensive. I fear I won't be able to take my warbot form in the near future."

"I was kinda expecting that, to be honest, but that's fine. We have this beauty after all," Clatchky said, patting affectionately the wheel.

"It is certainly impressive. May I ask who gave it to you?" Clatchky hesitated for a few moments. From the back came Phantom's amused chuckling.

"Let's just say we borrow it. Kinda. In a way."

"Seriously, Clatch? That's the best excuse you could come up with?"

"It's true though! If the Markazians want it back, I'll return it to them. We just needed a transport, and nobody was around to argue. I bet they have plenty anyway."

The mood lightened up for a moment, as all three on board shared a laugh, Kit chuckling as well. It helped her forget the walker, the intense heat as the lasers burned against her chassis, the fear of laying powerless on the ground and the Kartisians advancing on her as they . . .

Kit shuddered for a moment. Better to turn her attention on other matters.

"Where is Rivet?" she eventually asked.

"Close, hopefully," Clatchky replied. "Phantom, you've got a solid reading on her location, right?"

"Something like that. Her comm-receiver is still active, so we have a direction at least. If we had some proper equipment on hand, I would have the signal triangulated in no time!"

Kit nodded, slowly. "I see. I . . . I hope she is okay." Phantom let out an amused snort.

"Are you kidding me? It's Rivet we're talking about! When has been the last time she was in actual danger?"

"I am aware of her capabilities, but I cannot help but worry for her," Kit admitted.

"Relax, girl. Rivet's as tough as nail. I'm sure she's fine," Clatchky added before letting out a snort as well.

"Knowing her, she's probably taking on entire Imperial legion on her own. I've yet to meet someone or something that can stop that Lombax." He paused for a moment. "Okay, apart from Nefarious maybe, but he's gone now. I mean, what are the chances of meeting someone on his level?"

Ω

The body hit the floor with a loud thud, and a sharp pain flared up in her back. Dizzy, Rivet fought to keep the world around her from spinning too much. She flinched as another stab of pain exploded in her chest as she tried to breath. Bruised ribs? She didn't know, but it sure felt that way.

There was a blur through the air. Wasting not a moment, Rivet pushed herself up and rolled sideways. The hover-boots flared to life just a moment to give her a boost. The energy blade struck where she had been standing, leaving a scorch mark on the pavement. The blade moved again, and Rivet somersaulted backward once, then twice, avoiding two more slashes. The Lombax landed on her feet some distance away.

Bloodied yet undaunted, the Rivet stood back up, her eyes narrowed to slits on her opponent, ears pressed back and flat against her skull. She wiped away a few speckles of blood from the corner of her mouth. Rivet made a show of rolling her right shoulder a couple of times, to drive the point that she wasn't down yet.

"Is this all you have?" Rivet hissed. "Nefarious hit harder than you."

A sinister chuckle echoed across the indoor plaza. Kalani tipped his head to one side. His bardiche stood ready in his clawed hands as he shifted back into a combat form, the long-staffed weapon held parallel to the ground. With some annoyance, Rivet noted that his breath had remained stable; if he was tired, he did not show it. The energy shield flickered around him as he caught the last rays of light coming from the windows above.

"Thirty years, Lombax," he said, his tone soothingly calm. "That's how long I've been waiting for this moment. I've been preparing thoroughly for when I would finally face one of your kind in combat once more."

"Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that," Rivet scoffed. "Alright, I get it. You had absolutely nothing better to do in the last thirty years. Fine. Can you please shut up about it?" Through her Tele-equipper, she summoned her Glove of Doom in one hand and a Burst Pistol in the other.

"And by the way, using a personal shield is for cowards."

"Says the one using a Tele-equipper," Kalani quipped back.

Rivet scowled, then unleashed a trio of Agents on him. The bots broke into a full-on charge, scampering across the pavement over metallic feet, their jaws ready to latch onto something.

Like a coiled spring, Kalani sprang into action and leaped into their midst. The energy blade moved like a blur through the air and two Agents dropped to the ground, sliced in two. The last one jumped him, mouth agape and ready, only to be intercepted mid-air. Kalani seized it from one of its legs and then used it to smash the Agent on the ground, turning him into a pile of broken scraps and circuitry.

The weapon in Rivet's hand burst to life, unleashing a barrage of plasma bolts. The Kartisian did not even bother to address her. The shield around him flashed, and not one bolt hit its target.

Still, that was but a distraction, and he had fallen for it. Rivet activated her hover-boots and summoned her Cold Snap. If she could keep her distance and pin in him place, she reasoned, then she could follow up with further attacks and beat him for good.

It was a sound plan.

It did not work.

Kalani launched himself at her, with a speed Rivet had not expected for his size. He came swinging his long weapon, taking advantage of its superior reach to keep the pressure on her. Rivet managed to press her weapon's trigger once, only to watch in disbelief as the frozen projectile was cut in mid-air by a downwards swipe, the rest intercepted by his shield.

Kalani pressed on. The flurry of attacks was quick, ferocious, and utterly relentless. Rivet had to struggle just to keep her balance as she backed away, Kalani having no trouble keeping up with her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, weaving and dodging amidst the incoming attacks thanks to her hover-boots. Her OmniMallet made its appearance and the Lombax tried to mount her own counterattack, but to no avail.

Kalani moved with frightening speed, the long-staffed blade twisting and twirling in his hands. He did not fight with just the blade, Rivet realized. Rather, the Kartisian took advantage of the full length of his weapon. Rivet found herself dodging the crackling energy blade only to see the staff's butt lashing out for her head. Her OmniMallet batted it aside, but it was not enough. Her mind raced; he was too close, and she did not have the time, nor the space, to bring out any of her ranged weaponry.

'I'd better come out with something, and fast!'

Then, beneath her, after the previous hours of intense use, the hover-boots finally gave up. There was the spluttering of engines, giving Rivet only a moment to realize what was happening and act accordingly. She landed back on her feet, but the Lombax's balance was off by that point. Her guard was open, and Kalani went in for the kill.

The staff came in again as a blur, batting her OmniMallet aside and with enough force to knock it off her hand – her artificial one. Kalani twisted around, allowing himself a brief flourish, before raising the weapon above his head and bringing it down in a savage two-handed, downward cut.

Her eyes widened; there was no time to dodge, and she had nothing to block it with, so Rivet did the only thing she could. She trusted her instinct. Her mechanical arm shot upward.

The blade stopped, crackling and hissing, mere inches from her head. It was close enough that Rivet could feel the heat radiating off from it. Her metal hand seized the staff just below the blade, trembling by the sheer effort, yet holding it in place. She registered with some satisfaction the look of mild surprise on Kalani's face as the four, amber-coloured eyes swivelled down.

Despite the struggle in keeping the weapon still and away from her, Rivet couldn't help herself. She let out a nervous chuckle, broken only by a soft wheeze due to the constant exertion.

"D-Didn't see that one c-coming, did you?"

"As a matter of fact? I did not."

Kalani grinned, then slowly leaned against his weapon, pushing it against Rivet. Inch by inch, the blade drew inexorably closer. Gritting her teeth, Rivet pushed back with all the strength she could muster, fighting to beat back the ever-encroaching wave of fatigue, even using her organic arm for additional support.

Much to her despair, it was of no use. The most she could manage was slow its descent to a crawl, the crackling blade shifting ever closer to her face. Every muscle on her body was tense, burning with pain and exhaustion.

"Disappointing," Kalani commented, his four eyes narrowing. "I came here expecting to face a Lombax Praetorian Guard in single combat, to trade blow with an opponent equal, if not superior, to me." He tilted his head to one side, hissing.

"And yet, what do we have here?"

The staff snapped in two. The momentary relief that Rivet felt was quashed once she realized that he had just split his weapon into two. And she now had both hands preoccupied with dealing with just one, the axe.

'Oh crap.'

Her body went tense as pain exploded into Rivet's side. The next moment, a devastating surge of electricity coursed throughout her as Kalani switched on his shock baton. Her muscles, already strained by the fighting, went painfully rigid. The metal arm buzzed, sparks flying. One of the most horrific pains Rivet had ever felt surged throughout her, every single part of her battered body on fire. Her eyes were wide to the absolute limit, as if they were about to burst out of their sockets.

Then, just as suddenly as it begun, the pain ended. Rivet staggered back, the world swaying around her like a blur. Her fingers had eventually let go of the weapon, but she couldn't be sure. Everything seemed so confused. Something cold rested against the back of her head and back. She only belatedly realized that she was now laying on the floor. She winced as the smell of burned fur assaulted her nostrils.

It took Rivet some time to look up. Kalani was standing over her now. In one fluid motion, he reassembled the axe and shock baton back into the original long staff. Instead of using it though, he simply let it rest against his shoulder. He looked down at her, an irritated grimace taking shape on his muzzle.

"An amateur," he spat. "That's what you are. I've fought against Praetorian Guards. I've bled against them. Fighting you doesn't compare to that, not even close." He shrugged as he tapped on the staff. The blade fizzled out of existence.

"A true shame. I was hoping that your kind had finally come out of hiding, but it appears I was mistaken. You are not the mighty vanguard I expected; not you, nor your Lombax friend, if you are any indication."

Rivet felt an icy stab right into her stomach. He knew about Ratchet? How? And why he kept on talking about the Lombaxes like he had met them before? In her entire life up to that point, Rivet had never entered into contact with her species, aside from the occasional rumour, urban legend, and local folklore. And she knew the same to be to be true for Ratchet, for the most part anyway.

'Aside from that whole business with that Azimuth guy.'

"No matter. I guess we're about done here," Kalani said at length, scratching idly at his lower jaw. He licked his lips, flashing razor-sharp teeth. "You weren't much good as an opponent. I hope at least you'll be better as dinner."

Then, his eyes drifted to the side, falling on the OmniMallet laying some distance away. He blinked, eyes widening. His expression changed; the self-assurance gave way to confusion, in turn morphing into curiosity. The Kartisian turned around and went to pick the weapon up.

Rivet growled as she tried to push herself up, managing only to stand on her knees. The constant feeling of vertigo and the sharp pain pulsating through her head almost made her puke right there.

"Hey! Don't you dare touch that!" Rivet snarled through clenched teeth. "Give it back, it's mine!"

Kalani said nothing. He did not even acknowledge her. His full attention was seemingly completely turned to the OmniMallet. Slowly and carefully, he examined the weapon, exploring every line, every imperfection on the head and handle. The rest did not matter. Rivet herself did not matter. Only the OmniMallet existed for Kalani. The edge of the weapon glinted under the light.

"Hey! Are you even listening? I'm talking to you! I said, stop putting your filthy claws on stuff that's not yours!" Again, he ignored her.

Rivet fumed but remained silent. Slowly, she reached up with her artificial hand to tap at her Nav-Unit. The Lombax shot a glance at the Kartisian, but he seemed to have completely forgotten her existence. Taking advantage of his distraction, Rivet accessed the integrated comm-link, synchronized with the one Clatchky and Phantom had, and went ahead with sending out an emergency signal. Hopefully, they were nearby.

If not, she would soon be in big troubles.

Rivet hissed under her breath. The pain was overwhelming, but she had no choice. She had to buy time until her friends arrived. She looked up at Kalani. She had to find a way to keep him busy until then.

A soft grin appeared on her lips as an idea sprung up in her mind. If there was one thing Nefarious liked to do was talking, especially if it was about himself. He wasn't the Emperor, true, but all megalomaniac she had faced up to that point loved to do the same. Maybe she could use that?

Rivet cleared her throat, ignoring a fresh stab of pain in her side. "So, Kalani was it? What are you anyway? I've never seen your kind around here before, and I've been all over Polaris in the last ten years. Even among all that weirdness, you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs sooo . . . you're not from around here, are you?"

To her surprise, he actually looked up for a moment, just one. He shrugged

"We are far from home." He twirled the OmniMallet in his claws, evaluating it.

"Figured. So your home is in, like, another galaxy?"

"Dimension."

Rivet blinked. "Oh . . . well, that sounds . . . uh . . . cool?" That did not sound promising in the slightest, but she pressed on anyway. She had to learn as much as she could. She wiped away a few droplets of blood from her nose, sniffing.

"So why fight for the Imperials then? Maybe you haven't heard it, but Nefarious is gone now. I don't know what the Assistant is promising you, but it is probably bullshit. Are you a mercenary? You know, the resistance could pay you more right now. Better than fighting for an Empire on its last legs."

Again, he looked up. Eyes narrowed, there was a scowl on his face. "I am no mercenary." Then, he went back at examine Rivet's weapon like nothing had happened.

Rivet, for her part, rolled her eyes.

'Wonderful. Of all the villains still at large in the galaxy, I found myself dealing with the only introvert. And an introvert good with an axe at that.' She glanced back down at her Nav-Unit.

'Zonis, I hope they get a move on.'

"Okay, fine. You are not a mercenary. That's nice, I never liked them either. Still, better than pirates, am I right?" Rivet gave a nervous chuckle, one that Kalani ignored once more. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be muttering something under his breath now. Rivet had to strain her ears to caught what he was saying. Nothing of that made sense.

"My Good Lady, why have you brought this sign to me? Was this meeting Your design all along? I beseech you, Brood Mother; manifest your will before your humble servant."

'Oh great, he's one of those guys. Can't' I just fight someone normal for once?'

The Lombax frowned. He was distracted now though. Maybe she could now take advantage of that. Moving carefully so to not be noticed, Rivet checked her Tele-equipper. Most of her arsenal was depleted by now; the battle had been taxing on both her physique and ammo reserves. She flipped through the few weapons still available with her, then came to a stop.

'The IGL-5.'

Rivet glanced up. He still wasn't looking at her.

'I hope Xavia was telling the truth when she boasted about its effectiveness.'

The problem turned out to be not using the weapon itself, but rather climbing back to her feet. Excruciating pain exploded throughout her entire body; Rivet grinded her teeth and pushed through the soreness and exhaustion, raising slowly on still-shaking legs. Glancing down, she noticed an ugly burn marring the side of her jumpsuit, making her wince.

Several moments passed as her body readjusted itself on standing up again, but eventually it managed to do so. Rivet could still feel a wetness dripping from her nose, but she decided to ignore that.

"You are from Savali."

Rivet blinked, looking up at him in confusion. That had not been a question. Slowly, Kalani swung his head around. His four eyes settled on her, burning with the same intensity of ion cores.

"I . . . I am not?" Rivet replied. She held her tongue just in time. No reason to tell him her home planet was Sargasso.

"Yes. Yes, you are. I should have guessed it from the beginning. Your fighting style was too unorthodox for a Praetorian Guard." He advanced on her, slowly. "Lombaxes are not from this dimension, as I'm sure you know. There is no equivalent of your kind here, much in the same way there isn't any of mine. We are . . . unique, so to speak. You may not be Praetorian Guard, but I couldn't be sure of your true origins until I laid my eyes on this," Kalani proclaimed as he held the OmniMallet before her eyes.

"Did you build it?"

Rivet raised a sceptical eyebrow, trying to ignore the sweat gathering on her forehead as she took a few steps back. "M-Maybe?"

He nodded. "I thought so. A weapon says much about its owner. After all, what object is more personal than the one employed to take someone else's life?" He snorted.

"Lombaxes have their own set of traditions, you see, and they like to follow them thoroughly. Each youngling has to assemble his own Wrench to prove they are mature enough and ready to join society proper. It is a passing rite like any other, no matter the profession one may choose to follow afterward. And so, the tradition is perpetuated, generation after generation. Every single Lombax will assemble their own Wrench at least once in their life."

Rivet said nothing, though her mind was wrestling with a thousand questions. Chief amongst them, how in Zoni's name did he know all that? She didn't know it, and she was a Lombax! Yet here he was, a perfect stranger that had just tried to kill her, lecturing her on her own kind.

"But you," Kalani continued, waving the OmniMallet in her general direction, "you have opted to build something unexpected. It follows no precedent tradition, nor any well-established form. Some might even say it is not a Lombax creation at all, at least on a first glance. It is almost as if you had absolutely no previous contact with the rest of your kind, for there is not an inch of their influence in this weapon."

He came to a stop before Rivet, his stature and bulk towering over the smaller Lombax.

"It can only mean one thing. You are from the Savali's colony. You escaped the fighting there and managed to stay hidden for all this time. Up until now, that is."

"And you've got all of that by just looking at my weapon?" Rivet said.

"As I said, a weapon says a lot about its owner. In your case, it tells of a Lombax that has spent her entire life away from her kind. Except that now, you are here on Markazia. You are looking for the same thing I am here for, aren't you? You too follow the traces they have left behind in this dimension. Isn't that correct?"

She frowned yet said nothing, not immediately at least. "I am here for the Emperor's Assistant," she finally spat.

Kalani tilted his head to the side, grinning. "Oh, is that so? I thought you said the Emperor was gone, that his Empire was finished. Why then waste your time chasing around its remnants?"

"I . . . well, I . . . look, I have my reasons."

"I'm sure you do. Or, maybe you don't." His grin broadened. "Maybe the only reason you are here it's because any break from the routine you've grown customary with terrifies you. Maybe you've grown so comfortable with the violence around you that you cannot think of any other path. After all, one doesn't simply walk off the battlefield." He shrugged. "But then again, what do I know about it? I am just a mercenary, am I not?"

"You really like to talk a lot, don't you?" Rivet hissed quietly. "I don't think this is any of your business."

Kalani crossed his arms on his chest. He shrugged.

"I thought this is what you wanted, Lombax. To distract me, to buy time for back-up to arrive. I must say, if any of your friends are nearby, they are taking quite their time to get here. Unless someone from my Packs has already intercepted them, of course."

Rivet froze. Cold sweat run down her forehead.

"Next time, Lombax, you might want to arrange for better comm security. We broke into your channels ten hours after we got off our transports. That, and some on-the-ground intelligence, helped us find you." He cackled. "Of course, that implies there will be a next time."

Rivet shuffled her feet into an approximate battle stance, struggling to fight back the encroaching wave of exhaustion. If her jig was up, then there was nothing else left to do but hold her ground as long as possible. In response, Kalani raised an eyebrow before shaking his head, amused.

"At ease, Lombax. I was merely taunting you. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it five minutes ago. I will admit that was my original intention but, now that I know where you come from, well . . ." He stopped, breaking into a fit of giggles. "To think it's Savali of all places! The Brood Mother may wave and twist the threads of fate as She pleases, but She still has quite the sense of irony."

"What do you want then?" Rivet asked.

Kalani's eyes flashed. "The lorb with you, of course. I know you have it." He stretched his arm toward her, palm upward, waiting. "I propose an exchange, Lombax. The lorb for your life. Give it to me, and I will allow you to leave this place. Unharmed."

"That's it?" Rivet narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Sounds a bit too good to be true. Where's the catch?"

"There isn't one. As I said, the lorb for your life. It is a fair exchange in my opinion. You are free to leave and continue your pointless fight against the Assistant, if you wish to keep on indulging in that. It is none of my concerns. I merely want what's inside."

"And what would that be, exactly?"

"A clue to find something lost. Or rather, something that your kind stole from us a long time ago. We simply want it back. So, we have a deal?"

Rivet frowned, remaining silent. Gears were starting to turn in her mind as she watched Kalani licking his lips. If she was careful, maybe she could buy a couple more minutes. One thing was certain, she wasn't going to give the lorb to him.

"Let's say that I agree," Rivet began. "What then? Are you going to wait a few hours before coming back to hunt me? Or will you just shoot me once I am outside? Pierre already pulled a trick like that once; I'm not falling for it a second time."

"Is that a no?"

Rivet shrugged. "Sorry, you don't exactly strike me as the kind of guy that keeps his word. Also, you tried to kill me five minutes ago." She winked at him. "I think I'll pass this time. As for the lorb, if you want it . . ." She barred her teeth, her Tele-equipper summoning an Enforcer. The weapon had barely the ammunition for three shots, but the message was clear.

". . . how about you come and take it from me?"

Kalani blinked, shooting her a curious glance. He shook his head. "I see you have at least some of that Lombax bravado. Admirable perhaps, but stupid. As for your offer, I am afraid I will have to decline as well. Though I've found our earlier confrontation truly enjoyable, my time here is short. Perhaps I will have greater fortune with another kind of bargain." He reached up and tapped at his earpiece.

"Oktar? You may bring our guest here."

There was movement behind him and four more Kartisian stepped into view, wearing black-matted armour and reflective visors. Aside from one though, wearing a set of odd-looking, reflective armour. He dragged a fifth figure across the tiled pavement, before coming to a halt by Kalani's side and throwing her at his feet. She let out a soft groan but was for the most part unresponsive. Rivet's eyes widened and a freezing-cold chill rattled through her bones. The burn on her left cheek and the short, brown hair were unmistakable.

"I do believe you two know each other already, so I'll spare you the pleasantries," Kalani said. He produced a nanites dispenser for somewhere, flipped a switch on one end and plunged the other in Tanya's chest. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then her blood-shot eyes burst open, her chest raising as she breathed in all the air she could. The Markazian went to stand up, only for Kalani to drive her back onto the ground with his foot. Tanya let out a groan.

"You . . . mother . . . fucker . . ."

"Charming, isn't she?" Kalani noted. He turned his attention to a wide-eyed Rivet. "My Pack brethren intercepted her medical transport during the evacuation. She might have been injured, but she clearly wasn't out of the fight yet." He looked down. "Isn't that right, Miss Apogee?"

"How about you go fuck yourself, you-"

She screamed in pain as Kalani pressed a little harder his taloned foot against her chest. It was only then Rivet noticed the blood covering Tanya's right arm.

"She pulled a hidden blade against my extraction team, you see," Kalani explained, his voice darkening in seriousness. "Sister Sacaris has succumbed to the wound she inflicted her, and now my Pack demands justice for her murder. Unfortunately for your friend, Restorationist's justice is an unmerciful one." His eyes glinted in anticipation as he looked at Rivet. He licked his lips once more. "It wouldn't be a quick death either."

Beneath him, Tanya scoffed. "This is war, you moron. If you can't digest a few losses, then you have no business to be here to begin with." The Markazian spat to the side. "Also, you assaulted a fucking ambulance, and just to get me here. And you complain because you lost one?"

Unperturbed, Kalani didn't bother to even look at her. "I'm sure your kind is well experienced regarding breaches in the conduct of war. You have accumulated quite the number so far in fact." He gestured at the empty fountain somewhere to the side, where the bodies of all those robots still lay.

"Did your friends check whether they were even warbots? Perhaps they did not care at all. Perhaps they even find it funny to gun down unarmed bots. Either case, I'm digressing."

Once again, he lifted an arm towards Rivet. "My offer is the same, Lombax. If you weren't willing to make a bargain with your life, I hope for your friend's sake that you'll be more agreeable towards an exchange with hers. Your friend for the lorb, that is my final offer. Now, choose."

Rivet hesitated, mind racing. Her eyes flicked from Kalani to Tanya in quick succession. She tried to find a solution, something she could exploit to get her out of there. But what about the lorb? Was it truly wise to give to him? He knew much, too much about the Lombaxes, that was clear. Who knew what he would do with the knowledge inside it.

"You seem rather hesitant, Lombax. Do you perhaps believe that I would not follow through with my threat? It is an understandable misconception, one that we can easily fix." He looked over his shoulder. "Oktar? Your plasma gun, if you wouldn't mind." Without hesitation, the Kartisian took a step forward and delivered his weapon to him.

Rivet's eyes widened in horror as she saw him switching the safety off and aiming it straight at Tanya's forehead.

"W-wait, let's talk about it . . ." Rivet began.

Kalani squeezed the trigger.

The weapon's discharge echoed across the room, the sound akin to a sharp hiss. Rivet's heart skipped a beat. It resumed only upon hearing Tanya's strangled breathing. The Markazian was hyperventilating, wide-eyed, her face deadly pale.

Kalani tilted his head to the side, observing the hole he had just created in the pavement, just a few inches away from Tanya's head. Then, he chuckled.

"Well, that is embarrassing. Seems like the gun's sight was off." Behind him came the hisses of amusement from Oktar and the other three Huscarls. "Just a moment, Lombax. I will fix it and then we can resume our-"

"Okay, fine!" Rivet snapped, baring her teeth. She lowered her Enforcer. "The lorb is yours. You can have it. Now, please, let her go." Through her Tele-equipper, she pulled out the lorb. Its surface was dull now, though there was a faint shimmering around the edges of its inscriptions. "This is what you want, right? This blasted thing for Tanya. Here, take it!"

"Oktar?" Kalani said.

After receiving back his gun, the Kartisian strode forward, tail rustling behind him. With the utmost care he took the lorb from Rivet's prosthetic, held it up in the air and examined its inscriptions. Several minutes of intense silence passed, Oktar slowly turning the orb-shaped device around to study all of its features. Rivet scowled but said nothing. That guy was taking his sweet time, that was for sure. His tail kept on swaying behind him, as if he was excited.

"It is authentic, my Lord," he said at last.

"Then I believe we are done here." Kalani lifted his foot from Tanya's chest, relinquishing the pressure and allowing her finally to draw a proper breath. She broke into a fit of coughs and he stepped away from her. "I honour my part of the deal, Lombax, and I allow you and your friend to leave. I would say this is the last time we see each other, yet something tells me it is not true. After all, if the Brood Mother made our paths cross once, She can do the same again." He made to leave.

"Wait," Rivet said, a sudden doubt making its way in her mind. "You said I am from Savali, but I've been here. There's nothing on that planet but some monks and a few ruins. No signs of any colony as far as I am aware."

"Then you should ask those monks how those ruins got there to begin with." He chuckled. Rivet didn't like it. There was something cruel behind it. "Tell me what you find the next time we meet. Farewell for now, Lombax." He bowed his head and then turned around, the other Kartisians quickly and silently following him.

Rivet waited a few moments, then rushed to Tanya's side. She dropped her Enforcer and helped the Markazian stand up. It was quite the challenge considering that she was trying to push her away.

"Hey, calm down, okay? It's me, Rivet," she said. "You are safe now. Here, let me help you." The Markazian climbed back on shaking legs, coughing all the while. Tanya massaged her chest, hissing in pain. One of the armour plates had cracked.

"You okay?"

"I . . . I'll m-manage." Her eyes searched across the room for something. Then they settled on the Enforcer laying nearby. A ferocious snarl appeared on her face.

"You sure you're f-" Rivet began, but it was too late. Tanya moved with surprising speed. She pushed Rivet off her, sending a shocked Lombax sitting on her rear upon the ground.

"What in the fuck-" she stopped. Tanya had the Enforcer now, and she had it aimed at Kalani.

"STOP!"

The Kartisian did come to a halt, turning around. Hisses echoed around him as the Huscarls raised their weapons on the two rebels, placing themselves directly before their leader and shielding him with their own bodies. With some unease, Rivet noticed Kalani's relaxed posture, yet his clawed hand drummed along the edge of his staff.

Tanya, however, was undaunted. "Where did you get that plasma pistol?" she asked quietly. Kalani tilted his head to the side.

"Tanya, listen, this is not really the moment to-" Rivet tried to interject.

"Shut up!" she snarled. She turned her attention back on Kalani.

"There are two letters engraved just below the barrel. An 'M' and 'A'. There's only one gun that has that peculiarity, because I made those engravings." She lifted the Enforcer, adjusting her grip on the weapon. Her finger trembled along the trigger. "I asked you a question! Where. Did you. Get. That?!"

"The gun?" Kalani repeated. "Why would I know where is that from? It is not mine . . . " All his four eyes blinked at the same time. "Oh, I see. Oktar?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Have you been taking trophies again?"

"My apologies, my Lord," the Kartisian said with a shrug. "I just couldn't resist. You know how much I love keeping reminders of successful hunts."

For one, single moment there was silence. Brief perhaps, but it felt like a small eternity. The pieces snapped together into Rivet's mind. A freezingly-cold chill run through her spine as the final realization struck her.

'M and A.'

'Like Maximilian Apogee.'

She glanced at Tanya, only to receive another painful stab in her stomach. Rivet only needed a look at her frozen, blood-drained face. No other word was needed, no further explanation or elaboration. The Markazian knew. For a split moment she opened her mouth, but no sound nor breath came out. A single glistening tear streamed silently down her left cheek.

The moment passed. Tanya's finger tightened around the weapon's trigger. A sound unlike any other came out from her mouth, a crude, wordless cry that no throat should have been capable of emitting; a fury-filled roar from a primordial animal. Rivet climbed back to her feet then lunged at her. It was too late.

The Enforcer's twin-barrels barked with an ear-splitting sound. The Huscarls leaped in front of the blast, and one of them was thrown back a few feet, scorching marks dotting his armour. Then came the growls and hisses of outrage, and the Kartisians raised their weapons, training them on Tanya. Plasma bolts filled the air.

Rivet tackled the Markazian to the ground as hot, screaming projectiles passed just above their heads. Without hesitation, Rivet's mechanical arm seized Tanya from her collar, and dragged the struggling Markazian back behind the fountain and out of view. A bolt hissed past her, missing her long ear by mere inches, causing Rivet to flinch in discomfort.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Rivet spat once they were behind cover. The hissing of flying projectiles echoed through the air. Without a word, Tanya simply leaned out of their cover and fired a second time, again with both barrels. She turned around and tossed the weapon back at her.

"It's empty. You've got something better?"

Rivet blinked. "I . . . what? No! No, I don't have 'something better', because we are leaving! Now!"

"He's not getting out of here alive." Her voice was strangely quiet. "I don't care what it takes, he will pay."

"And getting killed is a way of making him pay?"

"If that's what it takes . . ."

"Are you even listening to what you are saying?" Rivet snapped. She shook her head. "You are injured. I'm out of ammo, and the adrenaline is the only reason I'm still standing." She placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.

"He'll pay. I swear it to you he will, but not now. Now, I need you to think about what we are doing."

Tanya looked at her. Rivet could feel every emotion swirling behind her eyes. Anger. Hatred. Grief. Bitterness. The Markazian moved her mouth to say something, but hesitated.

Then came the electronic growling. It echoed across the small plaza, and everything shook around them. The Kartisians stopped firing as well. Rivet shoot them a quick glance; they had their weapons trained on the ceiling, wary of any movement. The reason for that soon became evident.

The ceiling above shook, dust falling off around them. A large shadow passed over the skylights, the reverberations strong enough to shatter them and sending a thousand of glistening fragments raining down. Rivet instinctively raised her metallic arm to protect herself.

"It seems my Imperial 'colleagues' have grown impatient, Lombax," Kalani shouted from across the plaza. "I promised that I would allow you to leave unharmed, and I have full intention of keeping that promise. What the Assistant's goons do to you from now on though, is none of my concern." He clicked his tongue a couple of times before disappearing into one of the mall passageways, the Huscarls and Oktar following him close behind.

"Ah, so that's where the catch was," Rivet hissed under her breath.

"What the hell is that?"

There was a loud crashing of stone as the Seekerpede's ugly head made its appearance once more, the bio-mechanical machine towering above them. It raised its head only to bring it smashing down against the skylights in an attempt to enlarge the opening for the rest of its body. Pieces of concrete and other detritus rained down, forcing Rivet and Tanya to dive out of the way. There was another deep groan as the whole roof seemed to be on the point of caving it.

"Run!" Rivet shouted. Tanya did not need further encouragement this time. The two of them turned and run, Rivet leading her down the same way she had taken on her way in. The crashing of stone grew louder as the Seekerpede battered its way inside the mall, letting out a bone-chilling, electronic shriek. The walls around them shook violently, the whole structure threatening to collapse on their heads any minute now.

"You said you could deal with a Seekerpede!" Tanya said as she run by her side. She sidestepped a falling neon sign about to take her head off her shoulders.

"Well, me and Xavia had come up with a plan and- "

"Did you actually follow one of Xavia's plans?!"

"It sounded like a good one!" She ducked just in time to avoid a flying brick, soaring past her. Behind them, the crashing of collapsing stone and grinding steel grew in intensity, a cacophony of destruction closing in. The Seekerpede was tearing the place down, smashing through walls and knocking down pillars.

"Get ready to jump!" Rivet shouted as she spotted the same smashed window she had entered. As one, Rivet and Tanya leaped through it and past the broken glass. A welcomed gush of fresh air hit them in the face as they landed into the parking lot. Then the wall behind them exploded.

A dust cloud enveloped them, the powerful shockwave slamming into them from behind and sending the two flying. Rivet groaned in pain as she landed hard on her side, bounced off, and then hit the ground again. A similar sound from nearby warned her that Tanya just had the same experience. They laid there for what seemed like a small eternity, Rivet's eyes having trouble focusing on her surroundings.

A long shadow fell over them from behind. Armour caked in fine, white dust, the Seekerpede slowly stood at its full height, the rest of its body sneaking out of the sizeable hole in the crumbling wall behind. The functioning maw twitched, sparks flying out of exposed wires and circuitry. The beam cannon mounted beneath the pilot's cockpit glowed hungrily with blue energy.

Rivet's earpiece crackled to life.

"This is Cobalt to all friendly forces in the AO. We have the Seekerpede in our sights. Keep your head down and plug your ears, it's gonna get loud."

It was then Rivet heard it. A soft growling on engine, faint enough to be a background noise coming from her surroundings. Still dazed, Rivet risked a look over her shoulders and behind.

The parking lot was not empty. Rivet could make out low, indistinct shapes standing out at its far edge. First, she heard the sharp crack, then came the whistle through the air. High-speed, armour piercing shells smashed against the Seekerpede's carapace. The electronic shriek was different this time, akin to the rage-filled cry of an injured beast.

Heavy threads churned and grated against the broken asphalt as a line of Paladin Tanks crawled forward, their cannons roaring repeatedly, sending shell after shell flying. Armour plates cracked and shattered, falling off the Seekerpede's carapace and exposing vital components beneath. The bio-mechanical machine lifted its head up, turning its attention away from the injured rebels right beneath it. The beam cannon charged up again, lining up the shoot at the new assailants.

It was smart enough to recognize the Markazian armoured platoon as a greater threat. It was, however, also incredibly foolish enough to turn its sights away from Rivet.

The Lombax shot back on her feet and activated the Tele-equipper one last time. She knew exactly what weapon she needed right now. The next moment, the IGL-5 rested haphazardly upon her shoulder. It was big and unwieldy, yet Rivet drew on all her remaining strength to lift it up and aim it upwards. A maniacal grin appeared on her lips as she spotted a crack in the underside of the Seekerpede's gigantic head, where one of the plates had fallen off.

"Keep looking up, big boy!" Rivet hissed. She squeezed the trigger.

The IGL fired with a sound unlike any other. No loud bang; no rocket whistle. Rather, there was a sharp crack as the compressed spring inside the tube burst free and lobbed a fat, low-velocity warhead upward. It moved so slowly, in fact, that for a moment Rivet feared the projectile would simply stall and fall back at her.

That did not happen, and the warhead lodged itself into the breach in the Seekerpede's armour just below the cockpit. The next moment it exploded with a flash, and burning flames enveloped the Seekerpede's head as the oily liquid latched itself at its armour. Rivet raised a hand to shield her eyes and face. Xavia had not been kidding; even with the machine's cockpit high above, Rivet could still feel a scorching heat washing over her.

The Seekerpede swayed left and right with its head, letting out a broken shrieking as the burning liquid slipped through the cracks in the armour and chewed through its most vulnerable components. Rivet cringed as she saw the flames slipping inside the cockpit, spreading down and touching the power cores. Secondary explosions ripped the thing from the inside out, sending metal components flying through the air.

Then, the shrieking ceased. The Seekerpede tilted backward and collapsed against the mall entrance behind, knocking down part of it in the process with another cloud of dust and smoke. There it laid, broken and smouldering, its sensors dull. The glass of its command pod eventually cracked open due to the heat, revealing the immobile, half-melted warbot laying unresponsive in the pilot's seat. The bio-mechanical monstrosity kept on burning for a while.

"What in the . . . Alright, who's the jackass that just stole my kill?" Rivet heard Cobalt complaining over the radio. She ignored it. She was too busy letting out a breath of relief.

"That . . . certainly looked . . . impressive," Tanya muttered quietly by her side, causing Rivet to jump a little in surprise. Her breath was short.

"Uh? Oh yeah, definitely . . . yeah . . ." Rivet sounded unconvinced, and she knew it. "Hey, look . . . how . . . how are you feeling?"

Tanya said nothing. She looked away, her eyes focusing upon the burning Seekerpede before them, tracing the dancing flames as they devoured the fallen beast from the inside out. There was something in Tanya's gaze that unsettled her. Cold and sharp, like a knife.

"Tanya?"

"I'm okay." She let out a deep breath.

The Markazian wasn't looking too well; there was blood on her uniform, probably due to the injury taken during the fight earlier that day, and she was holding her left arm. Rivet suspected she had gotten a bruise during their recent escape. Aside from that, it was the usual collection of cuts and bruises. If Rivet wanted to add something, she didn't get the chance. From behind came the screeching of tires on the asphalt. An armoured truck came to halt a before them, and the driver's door swung open.

"Well, I'll be damned," Clatchky whistled as he climbed down. "Thought we were rushing to your rescue. Seems like you didn't need any help though. Nice work."

Rivet grinned despite herself. "Hi there, Clatch. We did have a bit of help from the Markazians. Glad you got my signal though." Clatchky shook his head.

"Nah, our comms were busted. You should thank your little yellow friend though. She caught the signal and managed to triangulate it all by herself."

Rivet blinked in surprised. "Really? She did? Is she here as well or- "

"Rivet!"

Something smashed hard against her side, almost sending the Lombax sprawling on the ground. She glanced down, her eyes widening with no small surprise as she noticed Kit hugging at her leg, squeezing hard.

"Kit? What the . . . What are you doing he-"

"I was so worried! I got your signal, but I couldn't trace it at first! I feared something dreadful had happened! I employed every ounce of my analysing power, I connected myself to Kalithar's main grid, I hijacked a two signal towers, I probably caused a blackout across a couple of secondary grids, but I could not find you, but Clatchky kept saying not to worry, but I was so worried, and then I-"

"Kit, I'm alright," Rivet said, finally managing to halt Kit's explanation. She struggled for words, but only for a moment. She finally noticed the cracks and dents all over her chassis.

"What happened to you?"

"Uh? Oh, you mean these." She let go of her and took a few steps back. Dirt and grit covered her once bright yellow paint.

"I am afraid I run into some troubles. My combat mode might be compromised for the time being, but overall, I believe I am in overall acceptable conditions. Are you alright?"

"I guess so, yeah."

Kit tilted her head to the side, eye-lenses widening slightly. "Rivet . . . you are bleeding," she said as she pointed at a spot on her forehead.

Frowning, Rivet reached up with her left hand. It came out with a few droplets of blood staining her glove. Only then Rivet registered the dull ache, as the rush of adrenaline started to wane. In fact, the pain seemed to be progressively spreading across her entire body. Still, she put on a brave face.

"It's nothing, just a small cut. Really, you should have seen the other guy."

For a brief moment, Kit's gaze flicked past her and towards the burning war-machine. The flames still roared with intensity.

"I can definitely see that," Kit said at length. "Are you sure you are alright? Do you need bandages? Nanites? We do have some medical supplies in the truck but-" She stopped as Rivet raised a hand.

"I'm alright, Kit. I can manage for the time being. Thanks for the offer, but I don't really need help right now."

Her gaze shifted back. Tanya was still there, watching silently the Seekerpede burn, her arms wrapped around herself. Rivet suspected she had not even noticed the other's arrival. Maybe she was just ignoring them.

Rivet sighed.

"Though maybe somebody else does."

Ω

Her Voice turned slowly the Lombax sphere-shaped device in his claws. He leaned back in his chair with a smug grin of satisfaction. White pristine teeth glinted with the artificial light flooding the room.

"Not even in my wildest dream I would have expected to achieve such historic victory. We have the lorb, we have a Phase Quarz and, most important of all, we have finally found our true destination. Today, the Brood Mother smiled upon us all. Wouldn't you agree, Pack Leader?"

Zertis said nothing, simply nodding. He did not trust himself to speak. His gaze returned to the window and the courtyard below. Much of the city was by now covered in darkness, broken only by the glare of the occasional fire still burning hot.

Faint smoke rose from below, together with the pungent smell of incense as the soft breeze pushed the fumes upward and to his nostrils. The monotonous chanting from the Devotees echoed as well. Zertis recognized the words easily enough. It was a funeral rite.

'One thousand of my own Brothers and Sisters have fallen in battle. Twice as many are being treated by our medical corps.' Zertis suppressed the urge to grind his teeth. 'One third of my Battle is Pack. A third! And for what, some old Lombax device? Is that it?'

In over two weeks of fighting, Zerti's Pack had, for all intents and purposes, ceased to be an effective fighting force. Experienced Centurions were dead or injured for the most part; the assault sections had been decimated; their small yet formidable armoured platoons had lost some of their best crews in the final push. And even worse, it had all been for nothing. The Markazians had evacuated their military and civilian leadership quickly and quietly through underground tunnels.

'Yet they stood their ground anyway, just to bleed us dry. And fuck me, they did. We underestimated their willingness to fight. This was supposed to be a quick campaign!'

"Are you listening to what I'm saying, Pack Leader?"

Zertis glanced up, shaking away the thoughts lingering in his mind. "I'm afraid not. Apologies, my Lord. I was thinking."

Kalani raised an eyebrow before nodding. "There is nothing to forgive, I assure you. You were contemplating the state of your own Battle Pack, yes?" Zertis blinked at once.

"How . . . how did you . . ."

"It is only natural for you to worry about them. They have taken a considerable number of casualties." Kalani rose from his chair and moved toward a nearby console. The lorb was still in his claws as he activated the monitor. Walls of newly transmitted data scrolled down.

"You are afraid that they won't be able to perform their duties as before now that their strength has been gutted. I assure you that won't be a problem. The main fleet is sending a small task force to us. They'll be within Markazia's orbit in a couple days. I'll have the other Packs take over your duties for the time being."

He looked up and over his shoulder. "Replacements will soon arrive to replenish your losses. You'll be back at full strength in no time."

"I see," Zertis said. "Some additional firepower from above would indeed help us end this struggle quickly. What assets is the fleet bringing to bear against the Markazians?"

"None," Kalani said, causing the Pack Leader to blink in confusion. "We already have what we came for. I'm not interested in wasting further blood or ammunition in propping up some dead empire, like some grotesque puppet. The Lombax can have the Assistant if she wants, but what happens from this moment on is no longer our concern. Besides, we've spent enough time in this dimension, don't you think? It is time to get back to ours."

"We are pulling back? Now?" Zertis's four eyes widened. All the losses taken during the fight, both in Kartisians' lives and equipment, the blood and sweat poured . . . and they were just going to leave? To his shock, Kalani nodded.

"Exactly. Transports will soon arrive to retrieve our forces on the planet. I believe you and your Pack have earned some rest." He grinned at him.

"As for me, I'll be leaving a bit sooner. Now that we know where our true target lies, I must move quickly. I'll be taking along only a small entourage with me; a mere hundred of our most seasoned and devoted veterans will suffice for the task ahead." Then, he chuckled. "I look forward to the rest of the expeditionary fleet joining me on Basilisk III. It is about time to start the real war, after all."

"My Lord, I . . . I'm not sure I understand- "

"You don't need to," Kalani said, turning his attention back to the monitor. "Fleetlord Telkidas will take care of the rest, and he will provide you with any detail you need."

Zertis frowned. He held his tongue back, limiting himself to a nod, stiffer perhaps than he would have liked. "I understand, my Lord. May I take my leave?"

"One last thing," Kalani said. "The Imperial remnant on the planet? Wipe them out. I have no use for them anymore, and the Lombax has earned her victory. She can have the planet. Focus your efforts on the Command-and-Control units and the rest should disperse; as for the Assistant, I promised to send to her to her precious emperor. See to it. That will be all."

"Yes, my Lord," Zertis turned and made to leave. He pushed the door open, only to find a very surprised Mekior flinching back in shock, trying to act as if he had not been there eavesdropping the conversation. Zertis said nothing, his eyes narrowed. He closed the door behind him in silence, grabbing the other Kartisian by the hood and dragging him some distance away.

"What the hell were you thinking!?" Zertis demanded, his voice a quiet hiss. "Do you know what would have happened if He had noticed you there? The Devotees' colours won't protect you from Him!"

"I didn't mean any harm! I was just looking for you, that's all. I swear," Mekior countered. He took a moment to collect himself and adjust his robe. "The ceremony for the fallen has been completed. The Brood Mother watches over their souls now, and she welcomes Her children back. I thought you would want to know that."

Zertis blinked for a moment, his anger gone. "I . . . yes, that is good to hear. Extend my thanks to your brethren. Though my Pack still mourns them, that news lifts our spirits just a bit. Thank you, Mekior."

He shook his head. "It is only my duty. Are you alright?"

Zertis opened his mouth, but then stopped, hesitating. Finally, he said, "I'm not so sure. After the last days, I . . . I'm having thoughts right now that I should not be having."

Mekior tilted his head to one side, amber eyes shining in the penumbra. "Oh. I see. Do you want to talk about it perhaps?"

"I don't know. You are not going to accuse me of being a heretic, are you?" That earned a chuckle from his friend.

"Having a crisis of faith is more common than you might think. The First Prophets themselves had their own share of doubts over time, despite what my Deacon would have you believe." He shrugged. "Still, if it makes you feel more at ease, you can speak to me as your friend rather than the Devotee."

Zertis didn't answer immediately. He instinctively glanced behind, almost fearing that somebody else might be listening. The corridor however was empty. Even the Imperial warbots were gone, probably out to join the fighting. Glancing out of a nearby window, Zertis finally noticed it was night outside; thousands of stars glittered in the pitch-black sky above. Kalithar's light pollution had disappeared, courtesy of a city-wide blackout.

Soon, they would leave the city and the planet behind. After all the sacrifices, they would simply leave. To where? He did not know. Would he be asked to lead his Pack into another meatgrinder? To throw away the lives of his friends and brethren once more?

Zertis did not know, and he hated himself for not knowing. Why was Her Voice keeping his plans so secret anyway? Did He suspect disloyalty within the ranks? Did he not trust him? The Kartisian had no clear answer, only further questions.

Her Voice was the Brood Mother's manifested will, one and undivided. His orders were Her orders, their wills unified beyond mortal uncertainty. Would that mean that the Brood Mother Herself was ordering him to sacrifice those he had grew up with, his very own sisters and brothers in arms? Could he do that if the order came?

Zertis frowned. The memory of the last Voice, of the madness that had seized him without warning was still fresh in the mind of many, him included. Those had been dark days for the Restorationist's cause, yet Kalani had brought them back from the brink and led to victory after victory. Surely, that had to amount to something.

"Would you mind if I were to speak to both?" Zertis said.

"That bad, uh?" Mekior smiled warmly at his friend. "Aye. I can do both. My Deacon is probably busy with the preparations for our departure. I think we have plenty of time."