The attack came from her left side. Saketa spun as a figure rushed her. A sword flashed against the background light of the rope, and met Saketa’s blade with a clang. It was a furious assault, driven on by frantic energy and unnatural strength. Another clash rattled Saketa’s arms, and another, but on the third she managed to lock the blades together and twist them aside.

Her opponent shoulder-slammed Saketa with an angry shriek and the brute force of it knocked her back in an uncontrolled stumble. She opted to just let herself drop and roll backwards. The foe followed her, sword held up for a downwards swing, but Saketa shifted on the floor and kicked a leg out.

Her foe ran straight into the stiff limb and tripped over it, into a hard slam. Saketa sent a wave through her body and flipped herself back up onto her feet. This seemed like her opening to end it, and she almost took it, but the figure rose enough to aim a hand her way.

The tainted, pained energies that this place channelled were moved down a narrow funnel and emerged from the outstretched fingertips. A crackling, angry, purple tendril shot through the air as Saketa darted to the side. Now she did go for the nearest pillar, and felt another surge of power in the air.

There was another horrible crackle as she made it around the wide, sturdy rock, and the second tendril ate away a chunk of it on its way into the stone seats behind it, where it tore up yet more rock.

Saketa hesitated just a moment, until she felt the beginning of another shift of energies, then darted out, in the direction of the next pillar. The moment she was out into plain view she shot back the way she’d come, and the third tendril missed.

She ran back the way she’d come, past the smoking wound in the pillar. The figure had risen fully and didn’t have time to launch another blast, so up came the sword. The slash that came at Saketa was hardly masterful, but it was very quick and very strong. She evaded it rather than meet it directly, and danced around the figure, seeking an opening, and their respective swords did a little dance of their own.

Saketa clearly had more skill, more experience, but her foe could draw on this place’s energies. Too much space between them risked an opening for a tendril, and getting too close risked having to contend with strength she might not be able to match. So she kept up the dance, letting the enemy’s blade whizz through the air inches away from her, time and again, until a feint finally gave her an opening.

Even flat-footed, her foe almost dodged entirely, but the tip of Saketa’s sword caught their head. The enemy flinched back and tried to ward her off with a wild swing, but Saketa went around it and landed a strong kick to their leg.

Her foe fell back, stumbled and twisted around, completely off balance, and clutching at their head with one hand. Saketa chased and kicked again, hitting her enemy in the back, then roared as she kicked at the back of the knee. The figure fell, and slammed head-first into a pillar.

Gritting her teeth, Saketa raised her sword for an execution blow straight through bone, muscle, and organs.

Kill them death hate pain kill home hate worms evil scum hate kill hate hate hate...

It happened. The darkness wasn’t simply in her mind anymore, or invisibly in the air, it manifested. It tore through the veil, and filled the basement with that awful, purple haze.

Suddenly she was back on that ship’s bridge, amidst fire and sparks and blood. There was the sound of her sword breaking. And they came for her, reaching in from the haze, shapes without shapes, huge and deadly.

“No, no, no!”

Saketa didn’t know if she was shouting it out loud or not, but the words kept her limbs from freezing. The sword in her hand was still intact, and she swung it at the things that tried to seize her. Training pushed through the curtain that had suddenly fallen over her wits, and she fought back. She pushed against it all, more in spirit than in body, reminding herself of the mission, of her oaths.

The colour retreated, and the only thing that came at her was a human being with a sword. They limped and tried to clear blood out of the left eye with one hand, but the swing was still strong. Saketa dodged it, made it to her foe’s left side, and slammed her sword pommel into their head. Then she kicked at the left knee. There was an audible breaking sound, and they fell down more solidly than before, landing on their stomach with an agonised gasp. Saketa stomped on the sword hand, then kicked the weapon off into the darkness.

Her sword tip moved to press against the person’s back, almost on its own. She wanted so badly to press it home, to hear the gasp of a punctured lung. But this wasn’t her quarry. This had all been far too easy.

“Do…”

She took a couple of seconds to get her voice under control.

“Do you speak Larin?”

The reply was a harsh bark of pain and rage. She couldn’t tell if there were words in it, but could tell that her foe was attempting to summon another tendril.

Saketa stomped on the back instead of stabbing it, knocking her enemy’s air out for a moment, then reached down and turned the girl around. Even in the limited lighting and with blood leaking down half her face it was clear that the girl couldn’t possibly have even reached age twenty yet.

“Larin,” Saketa insisted. “Do you speak it?”

The exhausted, desperate sound the girl made was downright animalistic, and she tried to reach for the knife in Saketa’s belt. Saketa caught the wrist and twisted, forcing the girl to twist to the side a bit. Then she put the sword between her teeth and swung her free fist into the girl’s jaw. Then she did it again, just to be on the safe side.

The girl lay still, letting out only weak gasps of unconsciousness. It wouldn’t last long, but probably long enough.

Saketa hurried over to the generator. It was a very simple, cheap thing, built to hold a fairly impressive charge on a budget. And a partisan fighter she’d gotten to know during the previous big Fringe-shaking war had taught her a little trick with those.

She forced open a part of the cover, which gave her access to parts of the electronics not meant to be messed with. Then she messed with them, and once again felt thankful to that partisan for his patience with her. In the end it was a relatively simple matter of disabling certain wires, and thus the automatic stoppers. Then she cranked the output to maximum.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The glow-ropes flared to a brilliant glare and the generator started letting out warning beeps. She sheathed her blade, then hurried over to the girl and slung her over her back. There was a semi-conscious groan as the movement hurt the broken knee.

Saketa jogged back up the stairs, weighed down by her burden and the energies, but given some speed by the ever-more distressing noises coming from the generator. She went back down the hallway, back out the front doorway, and continued on some distance down the street, away from the core of power.

Once she felt safe she put the girl down on her back. Her consciousness seemed to have mostly recovered, as her eyes fixed on Saketa and she grunted something angry.

The generator exploded. It was hardly the equivalent of a ship-launched torpedo, but immediately after the flash and the boom Saketa heard the sounds of extended collapse. She was rather proud of herself for neither flinching nor taking her eyes off the girl. She rather wished she’d actually been able to plan this timing. Her subject certainly saw what happened behind Saketa, and her eyes widened in animal terror.

“Do you speak Larin?” Saketa asked her yet again.

The girl let out a frenzied noise and defied her own broken knee to reach up for Saketa in a wild attack. Saketa meant to catch her wrist again but caught the index finger instead. It was a fine alternative, and she broke it.

“Answer me!” Saketa shouted, as she pressed a foot on the wailing girl’s chest and forced her down.

“Worm!” the girl shouted with near-hysterical bile. “False bearer!”

“Where is your mentor?” Saketa asked. “Who had you guard that place in his absence?”

“You are false, ghost of Kalero!” the girl screamed. “Weakling! Life is not defence! It is fierce! The strong eat the weak! And-”

Saketa reached down and gripped the girl’s jaw, looming over her.

“And I am stronger than you!” she said. “Now, do you have any thoughts left in your head that he didn’t put there?”

The girl tried to spit, but the grip on her jaw was too tight. Saketa squeezed tighter.

“Listen: I know what he looks like. I know some of the names he uses. Tell me where he is!”

“Just kill me, Kalero!” the girl hissed with yet more defiance.

Saketa drew her knife very slowly. It wasn’t even a psychological ploy. She just didn’t entirely trust herself.

The girl reacted to the brandished weapon, and tried to grab at it or shield herself, but Saketa kept moving it. She launched one fake stab, and pulled back as the girl flinched.

“You don’t want to die,” Saketa said. “No matter what you’ve been told.”

She fought with herself a moment, then forced the next words out of her mouth.

“What is your name?”

The girl just glared at her at first, but Saketa kept up a stoic, unblinking gaze, as well as a tight grip on the girl’s face.

“Manda,” she finally hissed out through her teeth.

“Manda. Listen. I can tell you have not undergone the razing yet. You still haven’t burned away your humanity for the sake of pow-”

“I will prove myself!” Manda insisted.

“That mess behind me is all the proof your mentor needs. Think. Think how he rewards failure!”

The girl tried to glance behind Saketa, looking as agonised as if she’d just lost a limb. Saketa opted to let her really take the situation in for a few breaths before forcing eye-contact again.

“Save yourself. Tell me where he-”

The blast caught her completely off-guard. She couldn’t tell quite what had gone off, but there was a blinding flash, followed by white, intense little flames sputtering and flashing here and there in the air, like a swarm of glowing insects.

She hopped to the side, and vaguely saw another figure leap at the spot she’d just exited. There was a whoosh, and a blade was silhouetted against the blinding flashes. Saketa parried by pure instinct and tried to counterattack, but this foe was more skilled than Manda, with better footwork and surer strikes. They defended themselves, then did it again. Saketa kicked at the legs, but her opponent hopped back.

She made a gamble, as they came back at her, and tried an immediate Shift. She emerged behind her foe as they swung at empty air. They turned around as Saketa came in with a blow. They managed to parry, but it was narrow enough to put them on the backfoot, and Saketa drove her hilt into their face. There was a masculine grunt, and the figure hopped back as Saketa tried to land a killing strike. She thought she might have scored a hit, but her vision had cleared enough to see him reach into his belt and fling something down between them.

Her sensitivity screamed a warning and Saketa Shifted again. Her aim was poor, straight into a wall, and she was immediately launched right back to where she started. Time was up, and she simply threw herself to the side.

This one was a plain incendiary. Saketa felt searing heat on her vulnerable skin as the initial fireball ballooned out, but she escaped the fire itself. The ball was replaced by an ongoing carpet of fire. Through it she could see the male. It was the broad-shouldered man, or rather boy, that she’d seen earlier. The one with the long weapon, and the hooded jacket. He’d reached Manda and picked her up. Then he reached for power.

Saketa could sense it as surely as the heat on her face. He drew on the ambient power of this place and in a moment it manifested around the two of them, bathing them both in the haze.

She hopped to her feet, and wasted a couple of moments in looking for a way around the fire. It bought him the time he needed, and Saketa could sense her failure even as the haze started to engulf the two. She risked a Shift across, and almost reached them. The boy’s hood had fallen back and she got a good look at his face, twisted with effort as he performed a trick that by rights was beyond him.

Then they were swallowed by the purple.

The haze vanished along with them, and Saketa seized at nothing.

She stood in the spot for a few moments, then sheathed her sword with a calm she did not feel. Then she looked up at the blocks. Far more lights now shone. No doubt the whole thing had drawn attention, even though most couldn’t have gotten much of an impression of the details.

She probably should make herself scarce before the police arrived, assuming that even happened in this particular area. On the other hand, those two would be meeting with their mentor soon, assuming he was planetside. And as it stood, her only possible lead was talking to the local people, and seeing if anyone knew anything. These cults typically made poor neighbours.

Saketa stood still, caught in indecision. She remained caught as time stretched on, no matter how many times she turned on her heel in search of ideas or inspiration.

Finally a light shone out of the darkness. Literally. Someone was coming. She shrugged the coat off again and put a hand on her sword. She didn’t sense danger, but her sensitivity wasn’t reliable.

It was a plainly-dressed man who came down the main street of the sub-neighbourhood. Just above him hovered a very basic drone, the source of the light. He stopped a few metres away from Saketa, and the drone stopped as well. He took Saketa in with a certain amount of caution in his bearing, and glanced at the still-smoking destruction in her wake. Then he said something.

“I do not speak that,” Saketa told him, enunciating carefully.

“Greetings,” the man said in Larin. “Greetings and good wishes. I was…”

He glanced behind her again.

“I was asked to find you here, and to offer an invitation.”

“By whom?” Saketa asked.

“An offworlder, who has been helping out here. He… said to introduce him as a distant cousin.”

“Ah,” Saketa said. “Yes.”

She thought about it for a moment. There was a chance that this was a courtesy call more than anything, but given the timing and location…

“Very well. Lead on.”