Ship: The Reaper’s Envy

Star System: Unclaimed

VENATONCE HATES ME, Linares thought. What possibly could he want to see me for?

She stalked uneasily down the corridor, passing a few saluting Orovians on the way to the God of the Hunt's quarters — which did grant a second of ease. Orovian Nomad Legions were career soldiers, which Linares much preferred to the fanatical. Career soldiers had a modicum of professionalism and healthy distance from their cause. After a lifetime of death-worshipping masochists on Cindreth, a mercenary army was a breath of fresh air. That didn't mean she lowered her guard, however; her electro-mace still hung on her hip, not an inch from her hand. A curious accompaniment while she was in the heart of her friend's warship, but it was never out of reach when Linares could help it — she still barely felt comfortable sleeping without it. As she neared the bulkhead to Venatonce's quarters, a spark of static jumped from the handle to her fingertip, her first instinct to arm herself. She rolled her right shoulder and soothed her instincts. Venatonce may be able to kill any living creature, but that was only with his glaive — without it, she often played out, Linares was fairly confident she could sort him out.

She raised a hand to knock, but the bulkhead doors slid open on their own, the ten inch matte steel hissing apart to reveal a dense canopy of trees. "No sense in knocking, Ironstorm," Venatonce's voice echoed dissonantly within, "Your heart is beating like a drum."

Linares sighed in annoyance, bristling at his use of her wartime moniker 'Ironstorm,' and pressed inward. Her boots clanked off the metal floor and thudded gently onto dark black sediment. The artificial forest biome was Atrocita's gift to Venatonce, her way of thaking him for seceding from Cindreth with her. It made the vainglorious trophy hunter feel more at home, Linares suspected, or maybe more virile and masculine. A domain where he had experience and control, a patch of dirt and artificially alchemized trees sealed within the her massive warship.

Ever the gift giver.

"I did not answer your call for a scavenger hunt, Venatonce," she called out impatiently, eyes scanning the trees for rapid movement, "Unless you plan to hunt me, show yourself and be quick of this."

"Are you pressed for time, girl?" Venatonce's voice echoed sourcelessly again.

"In my lifespan, perhaps," she answered drolly, "Every moment spent on you is a personal loss."

"Hm. Indignant as ever."

"Dignation was never my gift."

"As you say. I've summoned you because the bounty hunter has found our quarry."

She slowed a step, hiding the shock, joy and fear that played within her now. "That's…excellent."

"Do not lie to me, girl," he hissed, "Your spiking heart and adrenaline secretion betray your words."

"I…" she trailed, now looking in circles for him, "I am just…anxious that the end of our crusade lie ahead. It's nerve-wracking, to know we've come so far and have the end so clear ahead."

"Well steady yourself," his voice finally materialized. She turned about, suddenly eye to eye with Venatonce, glaive twirling in one hand as he stalked around her like a predator. "This crucible will yet call upon you, and I will not let your weakness put Atrocita in danger."

Her head bobbed back with offense. "Danger? Do you thinks he can't handle herself?"

"Of course she can," he bit back, piercing eyes locked on her, scanning for weaknesses. "It is your conviction I suspect. You grimace when I secure a clean kill."

"Because you are disgusting."

"You avert your gaze when Atrocita uses the Death Wield."

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"Because she does not like to use it," Linares countered, lying by way of the truth: the undeath ritual made her sick, but Atrocita didn't enjoy it either. "She considers it a shortcut, she would rather use her words, as she did with us," she paused, forming a counterattack, "I thought you of all people would know that about her."

Venatonce growled and halted. "I do," he defended, "Better than any!"

"Then why do you interrogate me?"

"Because I know my heart is hers, as does she. She believes you are hers as well — but I cannot be certain. I do not know your mind."

Lucky you, she thought. Steeling herself, she swallowed and marched closer, meeting his glare. "She and I knew the pain of living under the Dreadlord's yoke well before you fell for her," she growled, "We shared trenches and waded through rivers of dead. You just…'satisfy' her," she spat dubiously, "If anything, I should be questioning your allegiance." Venatonce snarled and prowled closer, hand tight around his glaive while Linares' dropped on the pommel of her mace, but the Entroph hesitated. Linares cocked her head. Venatonce bore his teeth and heaved his shoulders, a manner much unlike his usual demeanor, even in combat. "Something has you rattled," she risked. Before long, a light flicked in her head: "It's the bounty hunter, isn't it?"

Venatonce twitched, but said nothing, instead huffing and standing straight again. "Ridiculous," he dismissed. Gotcha.

"Ahhh, I see," she twisted the knife, "You could not find the Ascendant of War for years, and the bounty hunter found him in days. I can see that cutting deep to the greatest hunter in the cosmos." Venatonce scoffed and stomped a few paces away, to the edge of a rocky plateau overlooking a pond. Linares smiled as she now paced around him this time. "How do you think he did it?"

Venatonce didn't look at her, muttering back, "Unsavory means, doubtless."

"Unsavory?"

"Bribery or base transactional exchange, I expect," he dismissed. "The methods of a criminal, not a hunter."

Linares chuckled. For all his vanity, Venatonce was indeed a grand hunter, even in the recesses of space. He could pick up the slightest ripple of gravity in the middle of a sunless void and know precisely where he was on a star map, or pick up on the precise temperature of a certain starship fuel and run the trail across entire solar systems. The fact that Atrocita's brother had slipped his watch seemingly without trying cut him deep...and Linares loved it. "

"Don't be jealous, Venatonce," she pouted, "I'm sure Atrocita still values you."

"That is not my concern," he finally whirled back to her, barely restraining himself. He took a breath and approached with…was that sincerity? "As you say, we are on the precipice of our endgame. And as you say, Atrocita has faith in her charisma and leadership — as she is right to, but we are not dealing with ordinary adversaries ahead. The one we hunt, Maladact's firstborn. He wields the Tectonic Mantle, and we know not to what degree. But more than that…" he stuck his glaive in the ground, now appealing to Linares with open body language. "He is elusive. Cunning. Has great awareness of what he is and what he can do. He will prove dangerous…but Atrocita will see him as a lost brother first," he went on, almost pained as he spoke of Atrocita as fallible. "She will appeal to him with her words, and her immaculate vision of a cosmos made free…but I know he will not listen. And I know he will use any sign of empathy or reason against her. But I cannot tell her this, she would not heed my warning. And I cannot silence our quarry, Atrocita will insist on seeing him in private. It is far beyond my skills as a hunter to contend…but it is not beyond you." Linares' brow creased.

Did Venatonce just compliment me?

"In the coming day," he expounded, "The call will fall to you to act with clarity and decisive action. Once we have him, he will still be dangerous, especially if Atrocita sees parts of herself in him. That is where we will need you most, Ironstorm. You have been a warrior and friend to her, but I need the Captain in you once again. Remember exactly who we are dealing with," he nodded, "Remember what he took away from you."

After processing his words in surprise, Venatonce's last sentence sunk through Linares' conscious mind and landed hard in her heart. Anger welled up in her at the invocation of what Maladact's son took from her. While she toiled and suffered on a burning wasteland, the heir of Cindreth's worst basked in the light on Arleth, at the right hand of the High King and Queen. Where she belonged. Her fist again rested on the mace by her side.

"I see the fire in you," Venatonce snapped her out of it, "You cannot strike at him as you'd be right to, but you have the clarity to remember he is our enemy, not a reluctant ally that our lady must bring to the fold."

Linares swallowed her festering resentment and tilted her head at him. "And you've not told Atrocita any of this?"

"I could never," Venatonce closed off, "She would not hear me. She would only see it as me doubting her — I will not do that to her after the lifetimes of dismissal she's endured."

Linares held in a scoff. If it weren't so blistering hypocritical, that would've actually been very sweet of him. She cleard her throat "It took humility to speak to me like this," she gave, "Your care for her was never really in doubt."

"Spare the pleasantry," he waved off, "Can I rely on you to hold course like the soldier we made you? See unclouded. To stand by our lady's side, even when she asks to be alone…and take action when called upon?"

Linares folded her arms. "Fear not, Venatonce," she assured, turning and striding away, "I have never forgotten who my enemies are."