SILAS

Dust and sand. The shot of charged plasma, still ringing in my ears. I leap forward, out of the thick cloud of airborne sand particulates, toward where my senses tell me my foe should be--not sight, but something else, some intuition, some combination of the vibrations in the sand under my feet and whatever minute sounds I'm able to pick up amidst the rest of the noise.

Through the dusty veil. Into a pocket of open air, like the eye in a storm.

And there it is. There she is.

Black hair sprawled about in the air, mid-dodge from avoiding the plasma shot from before. Bright, gleaming armor, with a few strange, white scratches scrawled roughly across the torso. Bright purple irises, glowing fiercely.

She's...beautiful.

And deadly, a voice warns me, echoing from some unknown part of my mind.

There's a name. Something with a P.

Para. Para...something.

Not that it matters. I'm mid-leap, swinging my glowing sword in an arc toward her midsection. In the next split-second, she'll be sliced in half, and I can move on to the other pilot, before they kill my friends. I can't afford to hold back. I can't-

What!??

Suddenly the blade of my sword has passed through and beyond my opponent's body, with no resistance at all.

I stumble, trying not to spin and trip over myself, having put all my weight and strength into the strike. In the process of catching myself, one of my legs slides a bit on the sand, making me bump into-

No. Through my foe.

Because it's not actually her, obviously. There's nothing there.

The mirage flickers, then dissipates.

I turn in a circle, casting my gaze.

There.

I see her head first as the dustclouds start to fall away. She's about thirty feet off. Standing at the crest of a dune, one foot elevated above the other with one knee popping out, almost like she's posing. Her hair flows about in a new breeze, as well as a long, black, flowy cape I'm only noticing now, that or she summoned it in the last moment or so.

She's smirking. Which is more than a little unsettling.

"You've lost your touch, Blast," she says. Her voice is smooth and low. Husky.

At this point the surrounding area is completely clear again. To the west, in my peripheral, I can see the other ship heading back in this direction.

So much for the element of surprise. If I ever really had it.

I keep my attention on my opponent, for now. Trying to come up with a new plan.

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I know this chick is dangerous. But I don't know what her abilities are. Besides that hologram trick. It's like something out of Naruto. Body Replacement Jutsu, or whatever it's called.

I just need to figure out how it works.

She's got to have more than that up her sleeve, though. Daimon had a number of defense and mobility techniques, along with an entire arsenal as well. What does this one have?

"My name is Silas," I say, trying to buy some time to think.

"Of course it is," she says. "Because you're not like the rest of us, are you? You're...special. Right?"

"Not sure I like your tone," I say, shifting my feet and adjusting the grip on my sword. My injured arm is starting to hitch in a way I don't like. It's hung limp at my side this entire time, but I think all the movement and exertion is starting to tweak it, somehow.

The Biodroid chick makes a point of noticing the way I favor the arm. "That's Daimon, I'm guessing. I'm curious--how did you do it? Survive, I mean?"

"Tricked him," I say. "There was some luck involved. Also, to be honest, I think he was holding back on me."

"Typical Daimon," she says. "He always did have a soft spot for Daddy's Dearest."

No idea what she's on about. Mostly, I'm just trying to gauge what would happen, right now, if I put away my sword and took a shot at her with my cannon.

"You really are the Golden Child," she says, folding her arms as she appraises me. "Even after all you've done, you still manage to eek out a free pass. Unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It's not."

She holds out one hand and fans it out in front of her, causing a purple pole to materialize--iridescent, like a glowing bar of glass. As she catches the staff, spinning it in her hands, it hums with the motion, crackling with energy.

"I'm not going to go easy on you. Silas."

I don't answer. We're on the cusp of the next bout. The tension is palpable in the atmosphere, the way your hair goes on end before a bolt of lightning descends.

She pivots, taking a combat-ready stance with the staff.

I turn my body to face the opposite direction she is, brandishing the katana. Feels like the right thing to do.

The Biodroid chick's smirk gets bigger. Her irises flare with color. I can both see and feel her charging up, getting ready to pounce.

Then she blinks, an irritated look on her face. Her gaze suddenly gets distant, dislocated. Looking past rather than at me.

"What do mean?" She says. And not to me. "Pawn's go- yeah, but this isn't chess."

A pause. Her expression glowers.

"Fine," she says. Her eyes shift back to me, and the smug smile reappears. Feels kind of fake at this point. "Looks like this isn't going to be as interesting as I thought. You know how Artifice is. Always ruining the fun."

"No, actually. I don't."

She cocks her head at me, the area around her eyes creasing with concentration. "Huh. You really don't, do you? Well. I'll just have to do my best to enjoy this all the same. I won't let Artifice hog all the action. Until then, though..."

She waves her hand and the purple glowing staff dissipates in a burst of light, like glass shattering. She crouches, then jumps backward, arms crossed over her chest as she rockets through the air, her cape flowing behind her in a trail.

Now's my chance.

I drop my sword point-down into the sand and initiate Salvo, summoning the two shoulder turrets, aiming for the Biodroid's face while I charge up a Blast with my arm.

She brings up her armored hands to cover her face, bullets sparking as they ricochet off her fingers and wrists. She lowers her hands, and there's suddenly a grey mask covering her face, similar to the one Daimon wore in my fight against him.

Really need to get myself one of those.

I aim the plasma shot. Nothing as powerful as the Level Two Blast from before--just a quick attack to swat her to the ground, keep her from getting away.

I close one eye, squinting. Fire.

Just as I let it off, something weird is happening. It's that black cape trailing behind and underneath my fleeing opponent's trajectory. A ripple in the fabric, as if there's something underneath, pushing up against it.

At the last split second, before my charged shot hits home, something leaps up from under the cape, intercepting the attack, exploding in a fiery shower of fluid, wires, and metal parts, scattering across the sand in smoldering chunks.

At the same time, I see flurries of movement in my peripheral. Not just to my left and right, but in every direction. Tufts of sand as burrowing droids scramble up toward the surface. Puffs of sand as the four-legged bots emerge in airborne arcs, all of them headed directly for me.

Dozens and dozens of them.