Silver.
She hated the name, even if it was originally just a jab at her pale hair and eyes. Second place, never gold, never quite up to standard. That’s all it meant to her.
“Hold still.” Raz chided, she winced as an auto-syringe plunged into her arm, the numbing effect of the anaesthetic mellowed the burning throbbing.
The four of them had regrouped around the two cargo movers. Soune was sitting in the rear seats of her mover, bleeding leg held up on the doorsill. Antonio was slumped against the wall of cargo-fives cab, sulkily picking at his bandages while waiting for Razgrith to finish patching Soune up. Kirche was in between them, investigating the pile of monster corpses she’d gathered together. Soune was watching that intently, she had them in order. Tonio’s one was a mess of broken limbs and black bruises along grey skin ending at a twisted neck. Soune’s pair were marked with limited but lethal stab and bullet wounds. Then Kirche’s trio all covered in deep, cauterised slashes.
“Hey.” Razgrith caught her attention. “Need to get to your calf.” They gestured to the mess of bloody, mangled fibres that were somewhat covering Soune’s calf wound. It was something she appreciated a lot about Raz; though she could never tell if it was from a place of respect or their own discomfort with people, Razgrith never did anything to others or their belongings without firm approval. Though it had proven an obstacle at several points being the group's de facto medic, it was hard to get permission from a hysterical patient. “Cut or roll?”
“Roll.” Soune grunted, leaning over to help roll up her pant leg with her good arm. Raz uncomfortably assisted.
“Hmm, clean and wrap should do, it’s pretty shallow.” Raz noted more to themselves than Soune.
“You do you, doc, what about the arm?” She held up the mess of swelling flesh, decorated with splashes of deep, multicoloured bruises.
“Should be fine, probably.” Was Raz’s only answer. A quick reminder of the fact they weren't exactly a professional, or proper, or really even proficient practitioner. Reading the instructions of first aid simply made them more qualified than the other three. Raz shook the bottle of antiseptic “I’d give you another painkiller but-” They both looked over to Tonio and the several spent auto-syringes scattered around the ground near him, along with the discarded, damaged plates of armour. “-yeah.”
“It’s fine just... Do it quick.” Soune distracted herself by calling out to Kirche. “Figured out what they are yet?”
“Well, they’re most certainly demonic.” Kirche shrugged. “Aside from that, not too much-” She rolled one of Soune’s over onto its stomach. “-Tough, ugly, mean. It’s pretty much all on the box. Kirche leaned down, investigating something near its head. “Interesting…” Disguised amongst the black, whorling lines across their skin were staggered, disconnected lines. Straight and sharp where the rest were smooth and flowing.
“Are they Splinters*?” Soune asked, barking out as Raz took the moment to splash her cuts.
“Way too easy to kill. Even if one of us was slacking.”
“Fuck off Kirche.” Tonio piped up from his painkiller induced haze. “You two didn’t have to beat yours to death.” Razgrith paused the wrapping of Soune’s wounds, worried that Kirche was referring to them and not Antonio.
“No, I just had to handle half of them myself and Silver got jumped, and still managed to save you, didn’t hear a thanks for that by the way.” Kirche stood over Tonio cross-armed, and braced a boot against a bandaged bite on his leg.
He grumbled something foul and indiscernible.
“...Thanks, Argent.” Soune lazily waved back an acknowledgement, jaw clenched too tight from discomfort as Razgrith finished wrapping her leg.
“Alright, that should hold, the rest of the cuts are pretty shallow so, yeah. All done. I should get Tonio to a proper doctor though…” Raz looked at their partner with great concern, the bandages were already being bled through on his more major wounds.
“Probably.” Soune agreed. “Thanks Raz.”
Oddly, and looking incredibly uncomfortable as they did so, Raz leaned in closer to Soune and whispered.
“The cargo log for four had drone parts, no idea what kind, you’ll have to find and get them out yourself but I wiped them from the inventory.” They dropped another painkiller auto-syringe into Soune’s lap, then turned and nodded at the injured man. “Thank you, for him” The soft spoken, oft-lazy Razgrith and belligerent, anxious Antonio valued each others well being more than anything else, a fact Soune hadn’t picked up on until Kirche had pointed it out, and how she often used it to motivate one or the other. Soune pocketed the painkiller.
“All good, thanks for the patch up.” Soune and Raz nodded goodbye to each other. Out of the three, Soune liked Razgrith perhaps the most. They gelled in an odd, anti-social way. Sharing their expertise when needed in short exchanges of teaching, Rhapsody’s current setup was a result of some inherited electronic wisdom from Raz. Soune watched as Raz and Kirche helped Tonio to his feet, basically hanging between their shoulders as they walked back to where their own vehicle was waiting.
“Back in a sec, Silver.” Kirche called over her shoulder.
A part of Soune’s chest hurt watching them walk past the movers and out of sight, so comfortable with each other. It twisted further hearing them all laugh at something inaudible.
Silver.
Always second; second to the main group, always second best.
She was quick, nowhere near as quick as Kirche.
Strong, but not as strong as Antonio.
Clever, not as clever as Razgrith.
An often repeating thought creeped up, what was she even good for?
“Alright?” Rhapsody croaked through speakers, she’d moved his sensor array to the console of the vehicle, silently watching and recording how Raz treated her wounds.
“Yeah.” Soune responded with a voice crack. “Yes. I am. How about you?” She rolled her eyes at how forced and stupid the question was.
“It dented my roof, then you dented the door. Superficial damage.”
“It’s not your roof or door, it’s Trudge’s.” Soune corrected, patting the side of the doorsill as she said the vehicle's name.
“I am connected to it, it is the closest I have to a body at the moment.” Somehow the monotone took on an indignant tone. Soune groaned back at him.
“I’m working on it, you’re the one with all the needy specs.” She reminded him as she began to unwrap the red scarf from her neck, attempting to coerce it into some kind of sling for her injured arm.
“You have been working on it for several years now.” Soune scoffed through a mouthful of scarf.
“Several years? I thought such a perfect machine would be keeping better track of the days and not resort to vagueness.”
“I lost count, that is how long it has taken.” The camera buzzed and whirred in annoyance. Soune just scoffed again, giving up on the scarf and throwing it back onto the seat with the broken rifle and dirty coat.
“Yeah. Right. Well you better start hoping these drone parts are heavy duty then.” She stood up shakily from her Lightfoot, steadying herself before walking the few paces around to the back of cargo-four. The lock was already disengaged by Raz’s hacking work. She pressed the green button and the metal shutters hissed as they rolled upwards.
A grey limb shot out from the gap in the shutters, Soune was quick to step away, reaching for a weapon at her back that wasn’t there. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the cage bars keeping the creature inside. It gnawed and kicked at the bright, yellow-metal bars, each time it made contact it scalded itself, but still ignored the hissing and popping of its skin as it desperately tried to reach Soune.
“Hello gorgeous.” A sultry voice came from behind her, Soune turned to see Kirche swaggering forward, hand on hip.
“Hell of a name for it.” She added, looking back at the foul thing.
“Who said I was talking to it?” Kirche added with a wink, and Soune groaned. They’d been down this road a couple times before, it never ended well. “Whoever tied you up was a bit more clever weren’t they?” She said to the creature, standing perfectly distanced from it. She drew her golden blade from its sheath at her hip, holding it up to the cage bar.
“Your brothers were just in normal dog cages, and they’ve got the mauled guard to show how effective those were.” Soune turned to the overturned cargo-five. “Don’t look Silver, It’s just a mess.” Kirche turned her attention back to the creature, cocking her head in curiosity. “Why are you special?” It only bellowed an ear piercing shriek in response, Soune winced away from the noise but Kirche only smirked back.
“If they’re not Splinters, any ideas?” Soune asked to renew the earlier conversation.
“Hmm, the thing is, I think you might be half right. C’mere and look.” She patted Soune on the shoulder to turn them away from the living one and back to the corpses. Kirche pointed out the odd lines on the back of their necks. “See those? What do they remind you of?”
“Just looks like demon marks to me.” Soune hated Kirche’s guessing games, they always felt so belittling. “Or… Barcodes?”
“Ding ding, clever girl. My running theory so far is they might’ve been made by, or from, a Splinter.” Kirche ruffled Soune’s white hair, and quickly got her hand shoved away.
“Is that a thing? Splinters can make… these?”
“Not a damn clue.”
Soune sighed, realising how entirely unfounded Kirche’s guess was.
“You disappear for three years and that’s your best guess? What did they do in those convents?”
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“Hmm, chants and prayers mostly, the demon hunting parts were pretty few and far between.” Kirche unclasped the metal shoulder pad from her black jacket, the patina on it nearly as deep red as her tied-up hair. “O’ holiest missionary of the Red Shoulders**, may you smite the foul creatures of the Fold wherever you walk.” She parodied. “And then pray-slash-study for hours and hours about a bunch of numbers.” Kirche’s thoughts on the greater parts of Shekhinology*** had been very clearly explained in a number of rants. “Learned how to do some fun stuff though.” She drew her blade across her fingertip, her own blood causing the edge to glow with heat. “O’ holy Presence, partake of my blood and grant me the strength to let our enemies blood flow tenfold.” The utter contempt of her words didn’t seem to matter as she turned back to the living monster, it shied away from the glowing blade.
The numbers ranging from one to seven that were inscribed in miniscule detail across her blade were identical to the sequences along the gold cage, and both brought equal harm and fear to the creature as it bounced from burning wall to wall of the cage.
“Almost makes you feel sorry for the little bastards…” Kirche mused for a moment with a sick smile, before pressing another button on the cargo vehicles door controls. The rack of cargo moved outwards on tracks, behind the cage of the creatures were several, regular cargo crates with digital locks lit up green. It lowered to the ground and left the living beast at eye level with its slaughtered kin. It looked back and up at them with savage, cornered fear. Kirche plunged her blade into its flank through the bars, the black blood turning to dark steam along the glowing edge. It screeched and fell to the floor weakened. “...nah, not really.” She dragged the flat of her weapon across the red shoulder pad, the black liquid boiling and adding to its red patina.
“Creepy…” Soune noted after watching the entire ordeal, happily turning to investigate the crates instead. The first opened with a hiss, packed with boxes of sealed rations. She moved to the second of three on that side.
“Not trying to hide that Raz left you a present somewhere huh?” Kirche asked with a smug satisfaction at seeing Soune’s anxious interest.
“Not from you, I figured you’d already known.” Soune opened another crate, cleaning supplies and chemicals. “You know bloody everything that goes on with us.” She noted with an accusatory edge.
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for gossip.”
“More like a nosy bit-...damnit.” The third crate had the drone parts she was promised, Lightweight, menial task use limbs were arranged in a stand. Soune sighed and grabbed one, useless for what she needed for Rhapsody. “Pop the bay, Rhap.” She called out, and the small storage cab of her Lightfoot popped open. She tossed a couple sets of the limbs in, hoping to find a use for them down the line.
“Rest of the cargo isn’t much better, another set of rations, some water and clothes.” Kirche relayed to her, looking at the other half of the crates. “It’ll keep our glorious King happy, and us paid but…” Kirche dropped her usual smugness, looking back at cargo-five. “Who sends a bunch of demon mutts along with civvy stuff?”
“Not a clue. You’ll be right for calling in pickup right?” Soune couldn’t care about whatever mystery Kirche was spinning, she was tired, hurt, and frustrated. She wanted to get home and just wait for the jobs pay to come in.
“...I think we were set up, Soune.” She paused at that, Kirche nearly never called anyone by their name, and even rarer to act like a proper team leader. “Go home and get some rest, I’m going to look into this.” She kicked the gold cage of the beast. “Nobody messes with me and mine.”
A twist of conflicting emotion in her chest, in one moment pushed away by Kirche, in another pulled back in. Treated as a person one moment, then an object the next. Though, that part was familiar to her. Soune shifted awkwardly on her feet.
“Right, I’ll catch you later then.” Kirche didn’t look back at her, looking intently at the row of corpses.
“Yeah, take some of the rations and water too, King won’t question a bit of losses with this mess.” Soune obeyed, loading them awkwardly with a single arm. “...It’s such an ugly thing, isn’t it?”
“The mongrels? Yeah.”
“No, that.” Soune turned to see Kirche pointing at the horizon. The giant rings that orbited the planet were just barely breaching the horizon, and the station that crawled along them. The colossal lens in the centre of the platform staring down at the surface, silently and omnipotently judging. “You want to talk about creepy…” She trailed off.
“What about it? Not like Durendel**** is a new thing, been here… forever I guess.” Soune shrugged, there were rumours about just what the purpose of the orbiting station were, what or who made it or put it there. What was a fact however, was that it was now a weapons platform that was demonstrably capable of levelling cities in a matter of minutes with its payload.
A fact Soune was very, very familiar with.
Kirche looked back at her with a flash of concern, always curious about Soune’s blase nature concerning the station, while still never being able to bring herself to look at it for long.
“I heard in the convent it’s the Presence’s gift and punishment to humanity.”
“You believe that?” Soune went back to loading her vehicle, not seeing Kirche shrug.
“Probably not, though it wouldn't surprise me if Shekhin tech was involved with it, like the Ark ships.”
“I don’t buy those either.”
“How can you not buy those? Humanity had to mass travel through space somehow.”
“In continent sized ships that then proceeded to vanish without a trace? Without anyone remembering no matter how far back you look when we supposedly arrived here? I’m too tired for this kinda shit Kirche.” Soune tried to stunt the conversation before it turned into a full blown argument. The Red Shoulder accepted, changing the subject slightly.
“Well, point is, and the theory that I won’t budge on. It’s that things fault this entire planet is sliced, diced, fucked and fried. The Salts, rad-poles, oceans, even this giant bloody quarry we’re stuck against. All terraformed by that bastard, and now it’s just looking at us, waiting to send more missiles than we could count down if anyone steps too out of line…”
“Come to think of it, why hasn’t it done anything about King then?” Soune mused, missing the point of whatever Kirche was building up to.
“Who knows, that scumbag knows how to stay alive, friends with all the wrong people… Soune, wouldn’t you think the world would be better if it all came crashing down?”
“Not really… too big a scale to concern me.”
“How can you say that?”
Soune paused, this was a new emotion coming from Kirche, even looking at her back Soune could tell. The way her voice croaked, the tightness of her hands gripping her arms. She was hurt. All proven by the wet trail on her face when she turned to Soune.
“Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that has gone wrong in your life can be traced back to it, and you’re saying it DOESN’T concern you?” She held her hands out in disbelief. “It concerns you more than anyone else I know!”
Soune was shaken, Kirche had poked at her thoughts towards Durendel Station before, and she’d always managed to avoid or change the topic. She always told herself she didn’t really care.
“Kirche… If anything, it just made me realise how pointless it’d be to hope that it was different… And, on the other side, because of everything that happened I’m where I am now.”
“Are you really happy where you are now?”
Silence hung between the two. Soune couldn’t meet Kirche’s piercing glare. Couldn’t look at the everpresent lens that peeked over her shoulder. Muddy, childhood memories of screams and fire, of trampled and mangled bodies, of a tight embrace as she was taken from the danger. She always told herself that it was a different life, that it didn’t affect her.
“...I’m tired, I’m going home Kirche, I'll see you later.”
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw the woman's arms go limp, and slowly turn away in silence.
“Yeah… I guess I'm just tired too, bye Soune.”
Soune closed herself into the cabin of her Lightfoot, sealing herself inside before releasing a deep, held sigh.
She moved Rhapsody’s sensors up onto the dashboard.
“Can you get us home?”
“Of course.” The vehicle shuddered and groaned awake. Trudge was on his last legs too, she looked back at the broken rifle. Nearly all of her inherited equipment from Ariel were broken or dead, and the only one she’d really made for herself was beside her.
“...I’m sorry. I’m trying to get you a proper body but people don’t just leave industrial level robotics around.”
“I know. I am not truly concerned with the time it is taking.” The Lightfoot lurched as the MDD kicked in, and they began reversing.
“I am.” Soune leaned back in her seat, fishing out the painkiller injector and debating just how sore she was. “I’m not exactly wanting to do dirty work in this mud hole for the next few decades.” She looked out the window, to the grand, mountain-high spires of Priloca Citadel ***** far, far away in the distance. “Getting there, Ariel.” She whispered out. They were skimming slowly along the road now.
“Almost there for getting a Stranger licence, after that, I’m gonna go looking for work around the industrial areas, see if I can pinch some parts from around there.” She affirmed her plan to Rhapsody. “Wonder if there's any mining towns nearby…FUCK!” Soune exclaimed, sitting up. The lightfoot shuddered in shock under Rhapsody’s control.
“What?”
“We were RIGHT NEXT to a quarry this entire time! That’s what!”
“Yes, we were, why is that relevant?”
“Quarries need heavy equipment, maybe heavy loader drones.”
“...elaborate.”
Soune rapped her knuckles on the top of his core housing.
“Maybe. There’s still some there. That I can salvage for parts. High load bearing parts. Like the kind I need for a certain heavy, power-hungry jackass.”
“...fuck.” Rhapsody whispered, mimicking her tone.
Soune looked at the dashboard, the Lightfoot was running low on solid fuel as well as battery. She clicked her tongue.
“Let’s get home for now, too low to go scavenging.”
They drove in silence for a while, Rhapsody keeping them on track while Soune fought against the want to plunge the painkiller into either of her wounded limbs.
“Do you promise?” The speakers piped up quietly.
“Promise what?” She gritted out in response.
“That you will go looking there when you can, for parts, for a body.”
Soune dropped the auto-syringe into the vehicle's console, and released the lock on Rhapsody’s housing, it parted open, letting her meet his core in the best approximation of proper eye contact.
He looked like a cube of crystal on a glance, glowing from some unknown internal source. The many layers of his construction bounced the light between each other in dazzling ways, each crystal panel etched with circuits so fine and dense it made it look like frosted glass upon closer inspection. Millions of miles of near microscopic electronics, thousands of layers over each other with the most minimal of tolerances, hundreds of glinting sparks and lights blinking inside the cube, tens of ports interfacing with the housing on its bottom face.
And one giant crack, spreading from a chipped corner into broken, uncountable fractures reaching deep into the core. An injury he had sustained from her own hands, from the hands of a panicked, screaming girl, from dropping the infinitely complex device shoved into her arms to the bloody sand in wracked grief.
“Yeah, I promise.”
“...Thank you.”
----------------------------------------
* Splinters - A subspecies or mutation of humans considered to be demonic hybrids.
** Red Shoulders - The sect of Shekhinology dedicated to the martial applications of it and the hunting of the demonic. Trained and taught in Convents separate to the other more scholarly sects.
*** Shekhinology - The study and belief of The Presence, an otherworldly force able to be manifested and manipulated via a system devised and translated from base seven mathematics. Divided into seven “choirs”, only the first three are truly researched and understood.
**** Durendel - Durendel refers to both the planet and ring station around it. The technicalities of what came first lost to the ages. To most people on the surface, the term refers to their planet and will refer to the station as just "The Ring", "The Collar" or more formally "Durendel Station".
***** Priloca Citadel - The government territory and capital city of the planet. The term Priloca itself has become synonymous with what remains of the government structure.