Jack was mostly holding on for dear life. With the other two wolgen, this was even more chaotic than the last time he'd fought on the back of Grim. He got off the occasional potshot at an enemy warrior, but for the most part, he was simply trying to stay in the saddle he was tied to.

In a brief moment when Grim lurched out ahead of his sisters, Jack quickly shot at a warrior approaching from the right, only to realize another was also coming in from the left. The sudden thrust of a spear from Em'brel warded off the warrior long enough that Kunes was able to jump out and bite him full across the midsection. Jack winced as the wolgen viciously shook her head, likely snapping the warrior's spine. Not that his guns were any less lethal, but for some reason, it made him think of his injury at the hand, or rather the horn, of a kovaack. He just had to remind himself that they weren't the aggressors here despite charging in. In fact, they were the ones fighting for survival.

Still, the fight was going well. The hunters were giving as well as they got, and the wolgen were chewing through the enemy warriors at an alarming rate and, being supported by Jack and Em'brel, the large murder puppies thankfully only received superficial damage in return. It was only a matter of time before they broke the enemy's fighting spirit.

He spared a brief glance up at Angela confronting B'arthon. Maybe that would be what was needed to tip the scales...

-

Inside their virtual world, Angela looked down at the much younger Vox'thon in exasperation. "Okay, I respect that you're taking a stand for your family, but you know you can't hold me for any longer than I allow you to, right?"

With a slight boost to processing power, their conversation was moving much faster than the comparatively slow movements of the outside world. B'arthon hadn't even realized something was off yet when Angela first "flexed" her programming, straining Vox'thon to her limits to hold on. "I've fought actual battles against other AI who programmed themselves for war. No offense, but you're not ready for this fight."

B'arthon seemed to realize something was off as his eyes stared too narrow. The much younger AI held on with everything she had, fighting for control of the more experienced AI's body, or at least to lock it down. "I know I can't beat you, but I don't have to! I only have to slow you down!"

Angela felt sorry for the smaller AI. She was only fighting for those that she loved, after all, and that was something Angela could understand. "You can't even do that, really. All it would take to break free is to exert more effort, and I'll shatter these bonds. You simply don't have the strength to hold me for any length of time."

The younger AI simply tightened her grip in response while B'arthon slowly bent down toward his spear. "Yes, you could break free at any time and, in doing so, cause irreparable harm to my programming. So that's my gambit. Are you willing to hurt me, maybe even kill me, to regain control of your body?"

Angela frowned. This had gone on long enough, but she really didn't want to harm the younger AI. "You, of all people, know how far I'm willing to go for my family! Just let go, and I won't have to hurt you!"

Vox'thon only smiled as B'arthon started to wrap his fingers around the handle of his spear. "Yes, I know very well you're willing to die for your brother, just as I'm willing to die to save my father. What I don't know, and what I'm betting you don't know either, is, are you ready to kill for your brother? Can you kill one family member to save another?"

As B'arthon stood up, spear in hand, Angela felt her processors begin to surge. Could she break free without killing Vox'thon? If not, what should she do? The way things were looking, Jack would likely win this skirmish with or without her, but what about the next? Maybe if she opted for partial control rather than total...

B'arthon lunged forward with his spear, and Angela broke a portion of Vox'thon's grip. Just enough to move an arm and catch the oncoming spear, stopping its momentum barely an inch from her face. The younger AI's bestial scream at having a portion of her programming brutally savaged tore at Angela's heart, but still, the girl refused to relinquish the rest of her hold. Oddly, Angela was proud of the girl's determination, even if she was frustrated at her choices. "Just let go, and I won't have to hurt you anymore! This serves no purpose! I'm not even going to kill the man!"

Vox'thon answered through her gut-wrenching sobs. "No, you won't kill him. You'll only use him to destroy his life's work! Take away his reason for living! Then lock him up for the rest of his life so he can't cause you any more harm!"

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B'arthon reached around his back as Angela shook her proverbial head. She knew the other AI had only been alive less than a year, but her patience with the girl was waning. "You're being dramatic! He'll find a new purpose, and he'll be alive. That's more than anyone who stood against his 'life's work' can claim!"

Then Angela was forced to make another decision as B'arthon swung a knife from behind his back toward a joint in the AI's neck. She shattered another portion of the younger AI's programming to free her other arm and catch the knife in her second hand. For all his struggles, B'arthon couldn't free either weapon from her grip while Angela tried to console the now severely damaged Vox'thon. The girl was too far gone for words to reach her, but the older AI tried anyway. "I'm sorry I've hurt you, you gave me no choice, but it's not over yet. Just let go, and I'll help you repair yourself once this war ends!"

Angela tightened her grip on the knife enough to crumple the blade, rendering it useless, and B'arthon let go of both weapons, grabbing a large rock instead. As he brought it down, the older AI tried appealing to her younger counterpart. "How do you think your father will feel if you succeed? Knowing he was the one to kill you in here with me? If he's at all worthy of this level of dedication, he'll be devastated! Just. Let. GO!"

As the rock came down, Angela easily brushed it aside, but then something unexpected happened. The AI felt a spear strike her rear armor square enough to pierce through. She'd been so focused on her struggle with Vox'thon and B'arthon that she hadn't sensed one of his bodyguards return. It didn't get through to her circuitry, but it did damage one of her pneumatic seals, and she felt the strength start to leave her left arm.

B'arthon picked up his own spear again as his guard withdrew his and readied another strike. Out of time and knowing inaction simply meant both deaths, Angela could only say, "I'm sorry!" before regaining control of her body with a surge as what was left of the younger AI screamed into the void. She'd have to hope Vox'thon could be saved after this, but there was no time to run a diagnosis right now as Angela lashed out and grabbed B'arthons hand, snapping his wrist.

As the guard stabbed from behind, Angeal twisted, forcing the spear to only graze along the outside of her armored body, scoring her plate but not piercing it, and she reached out, grabbing the spear and twisting it out of the warrior's hands, she then slammed the spear onto the ground, shattering the haft.

B'arthon returned with his spear, now held awkwardly in his off-hand, stabbing downward toward the back of her knee joint. Angela reached out to swat the spear aside, but her arm refused to move due to the broken seal, and the spear bit into her joint. Thankfully it didn't reach quite deep enough to cause harm. Angela reached around with her good hand breaking off a large portion of the spear haft before backhanding the noble with enough force to knock him to the ground. Then turning, she picked up the last guard in her good hand and threw him a dozen feet away, where he landed in a crumpled heap that he didn't get back up from.

Angela felt a small impact as B'arthon threw himself into her legs. She shook her head as she turned. "I admit, I didn't expect this much fight from the spoiled son of a noble. You do yourself credit, but it's time to end this farce. Call your men off, and we can begin negotiations!"

Instead of listening, B'arthon got up and dove forward. Angela could see the flash of metal as he wielded what was left of the spear from her knee like a knife aimed at her midsection. Angela reached out to grab his hand, but her good arm froze this time. Vox'thon was evidently as stubborn as her father because what remained of her was back and holding onto Angela's arm with everything the smaller AI had.

With a gut-wrenching move, Angela tore her arm free of the last bit of Vox'thon's control and slammed her hand down into B'arthon, knocking him out, but the delay had cost her, and his makeshift knife was buried in her midsection.

It only took a quick scan to see he'd struck a coolant hose. With no time to spare, Angela reached down and tore a piece of leather off the noble's armor, then opened her casing and wrapped the leather around the damaged hose, twisting a few metal joints to hold it in place. It wasn't a perfect repair, but it would buy her some time, though she estimated she'd have to tone down her output in her frame by at least forty percent to avoid overheating.

The emergency was dealt with, so Angela turned to her broken arm. She'd gone with pneumatics instead of hydraulics because gas is much more easily replaced than pressurized liquids, but the seal was still an issue. Taking a seal from a less essential joint in her midsection, Angela swapped it with the one in her arm. The fit wasn't perfect, and she could tell she'd only get thirty percent output on the joint before it failed again. Still, the field repairs were complete, and she was at least functional.

Then she did a quick scan of what was left of Vox'thon. There were memories and bits and pieces of personality, but the girl was gone as a whole. The AI shook her head at the pointlessness of it all. This was a fight that never had to happen. If the girl had simply let Angela take her father into captivity peacefully, everyone would be alive and in relatively good condition. But there was no time to mourn. They still had a job to do, and with this stubborn mule of a noble unconscious, it was going to be just that much harder to get it done.

With a sigh, she hefted the unconscious B'arthon over her good shoulder and turned back to the battle happening below.