“It’s been a while,” Hiran said, shaking his head as he took a closer look at his former ally. A very long time ago, Sarasva had been one of the greatest Warmistresses of the Ghandarna Empire, with an A-Stage Core. She’d thwarted Keyi time and again, smashing her hordes of Void Entities from existence and wiping out entire fleets of her mortal soldiers.
If Hiran hadn’t managed to board her flagship, defeat her in single combat, and force her to flee during the battle for Chedi, the Rebellion could very well have been snuffed out by the close of its first year.
From what he understood, the Warmistress had been utterly disgraced in the eyes of the Starforged Court from that point on. She’d been stripped of her command and rank, though she’d been allowed to retain her Core Stage and Circuitry Grade. Sarasva was Warmistress no more, merely an Enforcer who’d been granted the courtesy of guarding Vaikuntha’s inner gates on account of her prior centuries of service.
It was only much, much later, when the Rebellion was ripping and tearing away at the final defenses of the Starforged Palace, that Hiran met Sarasva again. He’d been desperate to stop Keyi by then, and with Sarasva’s help, he had, dooming the Rebellion to failure.
“It definitely has,” Sarasva said, wincing as she sank to her haunches. She’d undoubtedly cracked a rib or two and had sustained some internal bleeding, but Hiran knew that her Starforged physiology would shrug off such injuries in a matter of hours, less if she’d been able to use her Sun Circuits.
She can’t, otherwise she would have, and I’d be a red smear against the wall, Hiran thought, recalling the former Warmistress’s power. “I see things haven’t turned out very well for you. You look tired, in every sense of the word.”
“Nearly a century without any Quiessence will do that to you.” Sarasva grunted and sat down on the floor, shoving aside a pile of debris as she did so. “It will break you, drive you to desperation, make you do things you would never have done.”
“Such as passing yourself off as an augmented mortal mercenary?” Hiran asked, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I never expected you’d be the Ashen Knight.”
“I’m not the Ashen Knight,” Sarasva said wearily. “I killed him several years ago, assumed his identity, and brought the Ashen Guild to prominence over all other mercenary guilds on Madhya. None of the mortal idiots know my true identity.”
That’s probably why she brought us here, so we could talk with a bit of privacy. Hiran crouched next to her. “Why, though? Why are you doing this?”
“Because like I said, I am desperate.” Sarasva chuckled. There was more than a little bitterness in her mirth. “I have been exiled from the Starforged Court. That means I no longer have access to Quiessence. I expended the last shreds of a long time ago. My Circuits and Core haven’t been active since. I’m desperate to bring them back to life, to once again see my Circuitry blaze golden and silver and feel my Core hum with power.”
“But you can’t go back to the Starforged Court,” Hiran reasoned. “You’ve tried everything already, but they still wouldn’t let you back, or you would already have.”
“I begged and pleaded.” Sarasva looked down at her battered gauntlets. “I told them I would take the lowliest position, be the lowliest Enforcer or Scrivener, but they wouldn’t listen. I rue the first time we met, Hiran, but above all, I regret the second time we crossed paths.”
“If you hadn’t helped me, there wouldn’t have been a Starforged Court left,” Hiran said quietly. “Narayana and Yamayana would be dead, and the Engine destroyed. All of Ghandarna would be a hellscape.”
“A hellscape with your precious Keyi in charge.” Sarasva turned her head and spat again, this time in disgust rather than out of necessity. “So what’s going on with her now? Is she still suffering as she deserves in the Abyss, or are the two of you plotting another damned Rebellion to burn down the Empire?”
Hiran quickly went over what had happened since his return to the realm of the living, leaving nothing out. He figured it was the least he owed to Sarasva, after all. When he was done, the former Warmistress laughed softly, shook her head, and waved in his direction.
“Look at you now, Hiran,” she said. “Back then, you were so small and frail. How does it feel to be a living god, one who isn’t beholden to the accursed vermin in the Starforged Court?”
“It feels good,” Hiran said honestly. It truly did. His new body was so much more superior to his old one in so many ways. “So you want to regain access to Quiessence. How does becoming a mercenary achieve that?”
“It doesn’t, I’m quickly learning.” Sarasva snarled in frustration. She depressed tabs on her armored wrists, releasing the buckles and clips that held her gauntlets in place, before pulling her hands free of the synthsteel in which they’d been encased.
The former Warmistress flexed her fingers as she continued speaking. “Despite being the guildmaster of the largest and most influential guild on this planet, I’ve not been able to get any direct contact with Vritra, the Governor-Warden. All my orders come through that accursed mortal, Nehma. I can pull some strings with her, but if she isn’t even allowed on Vritra’s palace, what good does that do me? At this rate, I will never get anywhere close to Vritra’s Engine Subsidiary.”
Nehma. That’s right. She’s the one in charge of the Bureau of Mercenaries, Hiran recalled. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I could help you.”
“Ah, but you can,” Sarasva said, arching her brow. She waved at Hiran again. “You’ve been reborn as a Starforged, but you can cycle raw Aether, just like you could as a mortal. If that can happen to you, why can’t the same thing happen to me?”
“Loremaster Maruti was responsible for my rebirth and transformation,” Hiran told her. “He is dead.”
“But his knowledge isn’t lost.” Sarasva pointed in the general direction of the building’s main entrance. “That little Savant-Slave you have there… I’ll be you anything you want that it’s got all of the Loremaster’s secrets locked in its little skull. We just have to break it open and pry them free.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Hiran said, standing up and tightening his grip on Azure Fang’s hilt. “That Savant is a she, and her name is Lila. If you or your people hurt her anymore than you already have, we’re done. You’ll become my enemy, guildmaster or not, and I’ll burn everything you’ve built down around you.”
“I’m already aware of your strange attachment to that thing, Hiran.” Sarasva grimaced, her disgust writ clear over her battered features. “But then you always were an eccentric, anyway.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about what happened to me. Mirabelle and Elliot… I didn’t meet them by coincidence, did I?”
“Actually yes, you did,” Sarasvan said, chuckling darkly. “I really had no idea the two idiot twins would run into you, but when they did, I decided to take action immediately.”
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“There is a story behind all this.” Hiran sighed and sheathed Azure Fang. “Tell me.”
“Vritra’s Engine Subsidiary isn’t the only angle I’ve been working to reignite my Core. I’ve also been looking into alchemy, among other things. That’s why I hired dozens of unaffiliated mercs to go on Star Beast hunts.”
“Maxwell.” Hiran blinked in astonishment. “You were Maxwell’s latest client.”
“Yes, and I always keep tabs on those working for me.” Sarasva smirked. “The escape pod he took from the Buckshot Busters’ ship had a views-lens and audio-feed attachment belonging to me. Imagine my surprise when I reviewed its feed and saw you standing there, back from the Abyss. But then you went dark when you stopped at that space station. Still, I knew you were heading to Madhya, so I had nothing to worry about.”
“And you think I can somehow make it so that your Core can cycle Aether, too,” Hiran said, exhaling through his teeth in exasperation. “I don’t know if that’s possible, but if it is, Lila would be your best bet.”
“If you help me out with this, I’ll return the favor in kind,” Sarasva said, her eyes shining with sudden eagerness. “Don’t forget. I am quite probably the most powerful and influential figure on Madhya, especially with the complete lack of Enforcer presence planetside.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask about that, actually.” Hiran rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Look, I cannot promise you anything. I’ll ask Lila if it’s possible to adjust your Core so that it’s like mine. And even if it is possible, it’s up to her whether or not she wants to help you. I’ll vouch for you, though. I owe you that much, at the very least.”
“You owe me a lot more, Hiran.” Sarasva scowled bitterly. “I have not had a drop of Quiessence for the last hundred years, making me no better than a filthy mortal. I even have to masquerade as one of them!”
She’s changed a lot since I last saw her, Hiran thought, looking at the former Warmistress and finding little commonality in her beaten and broken form with the proud and wise warrior who’d helped him stop Keyi a century ago. But I am not the same person I once was either. Time will only tell if that’s for the better or worse, for the both of us.
“I’ll do everything in my power to help you, Sarasva,” he said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “But I want something in return.”
“What is it? Spit it out.”
“These aliens.” Hiran jerked his thumb deeper into the building. “They aren’t just here. They’re probably all around Madhya by now. They need to be stopped.”
“The Starforged Court calls them the Endless Devourers,” Sarasva said. “They showed up a few years ago and began threatening Anava’s outer regions. Almost every battlefleet has been diverted to fight against them. Knowledge of their presence is still being suppressed as best as the Starforged Court can manage. I’ve only just found out about them this year, when small groups of them started showing up on Madhya itself, and the levy guardsmen and soldiers couldn’t handle them.”
“How did they make it planetside all the way from Anava?” Hiran asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “They’d have to travel across the entire Ghandarna Empire, slip past every Starforged fleet, and get through the planetary cordon.”
“The official word is that nobody knows how. Bureau mercs just have to take care of them.” Sarasva sneered. “My suspicion is that they’re hitching rides with all those Shanian ships that pour into Madhya by the tens of thousands every day.”
“Then why—” Hiran began to ask, only for Sarasva to laugh.
“Why hasn’t traffic been cut off or inspections heightened? Was that what you were going to ask? Don’t be naïve, Hiran. Interstellar trade is pretty much the only thing keeping the Empire afloat these days, thanks to that Rebellion of yours. If Vritra shuts down foreign traffic, he’ll have to deal with the Shanian and Asharican ambassadors. The Asharicans are easygoing enough, all things considered, but snubbing the Shanians might very well result in war between the two stellar realms, which is the last thing the Empire needs right now.”
“It needs an alien infestation even less,” Hiran pointed out. “If they’re left unchecked…”
“They haven’t been left unchecked.” Sarasva grunted as she pulled out a handheld communications-caster. It was a primitive device, even by Hiran’s standards. She pressed its activation switch and spoke into its audio input. “Deploy H-Two-Vector-Tango.”
“Acknowledged,” a flat, mechanical voice responded. “Deploying.”
“I have my own cadre of Savant-Slaves and Labor-Slaves, all of them equipped with the most high-end implants and processors,” Sarasva explained. “I just called one of them to bring me a spare set of armor. Thanks to you, if I walk out there right now, the game will be up.”
“It must be difficult for you, living beneath a veil of perpetual deception,” Hiran said. “You said the aliens haven’t been left unchecked. What do you mean?”
“I mean that my people have been snuffing them out wherever and whenever we find them. The Smith twins are particularly adept at this, especially the sister, who has some high-end stealth and infiltration augmentations. If you hadn’t taken this subcontract, she’d have sneaked in and simply eliminated the hive mind, like the last three she’d tackled.”
“Her augmentations look exactly like her brother’s. But I guess there must be some difference after all, since Elliot is anything but subtle or stealthy. I can only take your word for Mirabelle’s prowess, but I can also understand why she’d be reluctant to take on contracts involving these aliens. This hive mind was young and inexperienced. Its soldiers were weak and malformed. But if it were just a week older, I doubt she’d have any chance of success. I doubt that I would have succeeded.”
“And that’s what you’re asking for in return: my full support in taking out these aliens.” Sarasva nodded. “I already said my people are handling them, but in truth, they’re just doing the bare minimum. Nobody wants to take on any contracts involving the Endless Devourers. I’ve had to draw lots for the last ten that appeared on my desk. One of my best mercs actually tried to assassinate me for drawing his name. I had to cut his head off.”
That’s probably the other fellow who was supposed to work with Mirabelle, Hiran mused. “So how bad have things become with just the bare minimum being done?”
“Very bad.” Sarasva chuckled wearily. “We’re doing just fine within Madhya’s cities, but outside, beyond the walls, several significant landmasses have become deathzones. The Endless Devourers don’t just consume mortals, you see. They can digest all kinds of biomass and use it to swell their ranks. Sooner rather than later, an unstoppable horde of the damned aliens are going to pour over the cities, and everyone’s going to die.”
“I’m not going to let that happen.” Hiran reached down, grabbed Sarasva by her shoulders, and lifted her bodily to her feet. “And neither are you. What happened to the Warmistress who defended Ghandarna against overwhelming odds? What happened to the heroine who took on an army of Void Entities singlehandedly and won?”
Sarasva shoved him in the chest, hard enough to break his grip and force him a step back. The former Warmistress spat on the floor and glared at Hiran. “She was disgraced, doubly so. She lost everything, including her reason to care. Don’t spout your self-righteous drivel at me, Hiran. It won’t work anymore. Don’t you remember what happened after the last time I listened to you?”
“Yes, I do.” Hiran looked her in the eye. “We saved Ghandarna.”
Sarasva blinked in obvious astonishment. She took a few steps back and fiddled with the ruins of her armor, detaching clasps and buckles so that it fell off her body segment by segment. The former Warmistress was wearing a black spacesuit underneath the harness of synthsteel that she used to impersonate the Ashen Knight.
“You fried the nano-dissembler,” she muttered angrily. “It’s going to cost me a small fortune to fix. Anyway, regarding our imminent doom, widespread panic hasn’t broken out yet because only Nehma and I know about it. Maybe Vritra does too, but he doesn’t seem to care, otherwise his Enforcers would have sorted things out a long time ago.”
“That just means it’s up to us to do something about it,” Hiran said, a weak smile tugging at his lips. He’d won Sarasva over. She just hadn’t figured it out yet. “You said you have a cadre of Savant-Slaves. Use them to figure out where the hive minds are. You have an army of mercenaries answering to you. They’re not Enforcers, but they’re far from powerless. Tell them to help me.”
A Labor-Slave trundled through the wreckage of the flakboard wall, then. It carried a huge metal case in its mechanical limbs, which it set down in front of Sarasva.
“H-Two-Vector-Tango: task completed,” it bleated, before stiffening into immobility.
Sarasva walked over to the metal case and flipped its lid open, revealing a suit of gleaming armor plates. She blinked, and the contents of the case dissolved into swirls of black particles that enveloped her body, before coalescing into a suit of powered armor.
The Ashen Knight tapped her collar, and a sleek metal helm slid over her head, fully obscuring her features. When she spoke, her voice was modulated into mechanical androgyny. “Come with me, then. I’ll introduce you to the mercs.”