Writing Prompt: "The leaves fell in a swirling pattern"

“That one on the end.” Evelína whispered in Jeanne’s ear, the HUD singling out a battered war-truck, painted in streaks of blue. “Not on the manifest, probably an illegal immigrant to Al-Omeg.”

“Hmmm.” Jeanne replied, mentally going through the lists of protocols and procedures. “Keep a weapon lock on him while I ping the Abbess.”

Jeanne was on sentry duty, perched high up on the battlements above the intake to the Hive City of Al-Omeg.

When the Holy Knights weren’t crusading, they patrolled the city, guarded the entrances and exits, and- theoretically- kept watch on the nobility to make sure they didn’t fall from the Lunar Princess’ Holy Truth. Today, it was Jeanne’s turn on The Wall, watching trucks and wagons roar in and out of the city.

“Abbess says weapons hot and free.” Evelína sang, and the targeting reticle that floated on the singled-out truck suddenly flashed red.

Jeanne rocked slightly from the recoil; the heavy gun mounted on Evelína’s biomechanics kicking as the anti-tank round kicked off from the gun and hammered through the truck’s engine block.

“Why did you target the engine and not the driver?” Evelína asked curiously as Jeanne stood up, Evelína assuming a humanoid form.

“Deploy jetpacks. He needs to see who stopped him and understand why.” Jeanne replied, authoritatively.

Jeanne felt the jetpack modules click into place even as Evelína produced several reticles as the passengers of the wagon attempted to scatter.

Jeanne ran forward and leapt off the wall, confident her Smirtka battlesuit Evelína would kick on the jets and catch her as she fell.

True to her faith in her partner, Evelína kicked on the jump jets so that Jeanne slammed into the truck gracefully, her heavy battlesuit punching through the heavy armor in the driver’s cabin.

“They’re scattering, you know.” Evelína sang to Jeanne.

”You can target them, you know.” Jeanne shot back.

“Ethics violation.” Evelína replied, her voice noticeably more mechanical. “Nobility tags detected.”

Most nobles wore cybernetic implants that broadcast a signal on an encrypted band, ostensibly to avoid or mitigate against kidnappings.

The Church of the Lunar Princess had access to the full range of communication bands, and thus could locate any noble if they chose- though what this really meant was that they tried to avoid killing nobles if possible.

“Override; law violation.” Jeanne replied, and her weapon locks cleared.

“Negative on that. Round them up and escort them inside.” Abbess Cheryl broke into Jeanne’s comms.

Jeanne grit her teeth but re-engaged her weapon locks.

“Let’s round them up. Non-lethal.” She complained to Evelína, who began singing to Jeanne even as she extruded biomechanical tendrils and Jeanne began chasing down the nobles and their bodyguards.

After Evelína scooped up the nobles and their bodyguards, she began trotting towards the entrance of the city, the rounded-up men and women dangling from the long, arm-thick tentacles that Evelína had created with her body.

“Jeanne, this one is carrying a substance within his body that is non-standard.” Evelína selected one of the men who wore an expensive, tailored EVA suit, zooming in on the man’s face.

“What do you mean, ‘non-standard’?” Jeanne asked, relaying the conversation to the Abbess.

A side-screen popped up, showing how the man’s blood was laced with something that pinged on the rad sensors.

“Whatever it is, it’s killing him.” Evelína observed. “He’ll die in a week at the maximum.”

“What do you think it is?” Abbess Cheryl cut in.

“It’s harmful, radioactive. I would recommend that whatever it is doesn’t get into the food or water supply.” Evelína reported simply.

“He- along with the rest of them- attempted illegal entry. I suggest immediate sanction.” Jeanne replied.

“Scan the others.” Abbess Cheryl demanded.

Evelína obeyed, and suddenly Jeanne’s HUD was filled with warnings. All of the others that she’d picked up were carrying canisters filled with similar liquids, hidden inside their bodies.

She immediately passed the data to her Abbess.

“Terrorists of some kind?” The Abbess mused. “We’ve got the Smirtka’s records, that’s enough. They don’t get into the city.”

The tendrils that wrapped the nobles immediately flung each of the nobles in six separate directions, and then forming into plasma weapons.

“Oh boy.” Jeanne muttered even as Evelína launched six separate discreet packets of plasma, each enveloped in an electromagnetic bottle that decayed rapidly as it raced towards its target.

There was a reason that people called plasma weapons “star-throwers”. Plasma boiled away unshielded metals like candle-wax and chewed away the earth with the intense heat of a sun.

There wasn’t much of them left, more ashes that stirred in the breeze, like leaves.

“Six shots at once?” Jeanne gasped, struggling to stay conscious against the massive drain in her body. When Evelína grew tired, that feeling of exhaustion was transmitted back to Jeanne, and the power drain from using plasma was intense. Six shots was overwhelming.

“This wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d eliminated them properly.” Abbess Cheryl reprimanded over the vox.

Jeanne frowned at that. If she’d used plasma ordinance on the roadway, the road would have been damaged and she would have been reprimanded. If she’d killed the driver and the rest had scattered, it would have been just as difficult- she cut her mental argument loose and mentally plotted her course back to the top of the Wall.

Evelína accepted the return coordinates and Jeanne’s jump jets flared to life, carrying her into the air.

“Evelína, begin power recirculation. I don’t need you collapsing from lack of power.” Jeanne ordered, and then toggled a nutrient drink for herself.

Evelína was one of the intelligent biomechanical armors that the Holy Knights of the Lunar Princess used in their day-to-day lives. She was a battlesuit, her growth directed towards combat. Her exclusive pilot was Jeanne, a senior knight in the Church, and until just recently, Evelína was beginning to colonize Jeanne’s body in unrestricted growth.

“I’m sending Knight Irene to relieve you. Come back to the Cathedral for a debriefing. Consider this incident sealed until I say.”

Jeanne raised an eyebrow, and Evelína began humming the “Threnody of the Lunar Princess”, a somewhat melancholic hymn, appropriate for funerals and death marches.

“You’ve got a wicked sense of humor, Evelína.” Jeanne muttered as she stepped into the main airlock that allowed entry and exit into the Hive City of Al-Omeg.

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The Hive City was just as the name described: A massive hive where millions of people lived and worked, its geothermal power structures digging deep into the planet’s crust, followed by layers of manufactories and agri-farms, followed by habitation blocks and at the peak, the spires of the nobility and the Church.

Uncounted throngs of people swarmed and milled about her, none of them willing to approach her, but helpless to avoid doing so; the press of bodies was that intense.

“We’ll never get anywhere in this mess.” Jeanne muttered under her breath.

“Jetpacks?” Evelína suggested.

“Not here. I’ve been reprimanded too many times for doing that.” Jeanne remarked sullenly.

“Well, of course!” Evelína replied. “They’re the Lunar faithful! You shouldn’t be killing them so indifferently.”

“I want to point out it was you who just suggested firing the jet packs.” Jeanne replied, looking for a place where she could safely separate herself from the crowd and fly up the spires to the Church of the Sacred Moon.

“Did I?” Evelína replied innocently, and then settled into humming a lullaby into Jeanne’s ear, Evelína’s unspoken encouragement for Jeanne to relax. An image appeared in Jeanne’s HUD along with a map for Jeanne to use; a quick escape from the uncounted masses of people that thronged them.

Jeanne’s Smirtka Battlesuit suddenly extended long tendrils similar to the ones she’d used to lasso the nobles she found outside, grappling onto structures capable of lifting the heavy battlesuit and the pilot.

Using these structures, Jeanne was able to pull herself up and away from the highways far enough for Evelína to trigger her jetpacks without flash-incinerating the innocent, launching her upwards towards the higher points of the hive city.

There was nothing beautiful or elegant about her flight; the jetpacks simply punched against the gravity of the world, shoving her through the air upwards towards her goal.

“Trajectory calculated, course fixed. You can rest if you like.” Evelína reported, showing the projected path of ascent.

“What would I do without you?” Jeanne asked the two and a half meter battlesuit, who laughed and hummed a lullaby in Jeanne’s ear.

Jeanne closed her eyes, but suddenly Evelína chattered in her ear.

“We’re being targeted. Per Ethical Rules of Combat #B7748-A, a weapons lock indicates willful and malicious intent. Firing solution determined; engaged. Deploying countermeasures.”

A searing bloom of fire erupted underneath them even as something clinked against Evelína’s skin.

Jeanne blinked a few times in confusion.

“What in the Princess’ own name just happened?” She demanded.

“Someone tried to attack us.” Evelína’s matter of fact response did nothing to explain the fading explosion beneath them. “Forgive me; I need to readjust our trajectory.”

“I need more to work with than that!” Jeanne argued, to which Evelína replayed events for her.

A hooded man, rad scars pockmarking his face, raised a handgun with a veridian targeting system attached to it. He fired at Jeanne’s Smirtka battlesuit as she rocketed upwards; Evelína responded with a retaliatory strike from a plasma lance, which erased the entire area. The man’s bullet had bounced harmlessly off of Evelína’s armor.

“By the sludge, what the damnation was that?!” Jeanne complained. “Plasma?!” She yelled.

“An acceptable countermeasure, according to the-” Evelína began, but Jeanne cut her off.

“Plasma’s not acceptable for use inside the Hive City. We have non-plasma ordinance that you could have used.” Jeanne accused.

“Hmmm.” Evelína replied testily to Jeanne’s admonishment. “Shall I let you calculate an adequate threat response, then?” the Smirtka accused.

“Easy enough.” Jeanne lectured back. What did he use to attack us?”

“Standard 10mm civilian ammunition launched from a civilian-approved small arms weapon.” Evelína replied, a picture of the weapon appearing on Jeanne’s display. It was, as the battlesuit reported, a simple handgun that any civilian could purchase that used ammunition that was likewise approved for civilian use. The only thing that was nonstandard was the fact that the man had a sophisticated targeting module affixed to the gun.

“And?” Jeanne demanded of the battlesuit.

“‘And’ what?” Evelína shot back.

“The damage?” Jeanne pressed.

“There was no damage.” Evelína replied smugly. “I kept you safe.”

“You responded to a civilian gunshot with plasma. You probably killed at least fifty people with that shot.” Jeanne admonished. “A single shot from non-plasma ordinance would have functioned just fine.”

She fumed for a moment. “When the Abbess learns of this, you will be the one to explain your reasoning. And if she decides to revoke our right to deploy plasma ordinance, I’ll hear no bitching from you.” She stated flatly.

“You really think they’ll take it away?” Evelína asked, suddenly worried.

“Of course they will.” Jeanne retorted. “As it stands now, by my authority as a Holy Knight, I hereby weapons-lock plasma ordinance and forbid its use until further notice.” Several indicators toggled red, indicating the locks.

Evelína fumed some more.

“We’ve arrived.” Evelína reported tersely as gravity yanked them down to a launchpad outside of the Church of the Lunar Princess.

The launchpad was immense, large enough for flight vessels to take off and land. Evelína adjusted her flight configuration and skimmed them across the surface of the flight deck as they approached the Cathedral’s airlock.

The great doors ground open, and Jeanne and Evelína entered the enormous bay that housed dozens of vessels capable of flight, each emblazoned with the silvery disk of the moon.

“Air filtration has improved.” Evelína mused, showing a chart. “You could breathe this without a filter for a few hours, provided you weren’t too choosy about having reconstructive surgery afterwards.”

“Toxins? Rads?” Jeanne asked.

“Both.” Evelína replied. “The particle count is significantly reduced, however. A level-3 air filter would be just fine.”

“Think I’ll stay indoors, if you don’t mind.” Jeanne replied, prompting a laugh from Evelína.

The two and a half meter tall battlesuit carried Jeanne further into the Cathedral, a massive gothic edifice where thousands of the Churches faithful worked slavishly. She passed through the various checkpoints simply by wearing her Smirtka, the battlesuit alone was proof of her right to pass through those areas.

The carved stone hallways were large enough to accommodate the biomechanical battlesuits, though there were very few who wore them inside the deeper recesses.

Up until a short time ago, Jeanne was physically incapable of separating herself from Evelína without the use of cumbersome life-support equipment, but even if that were no longer the case, Jeanne preferred remaining in Evelína’s embrace. Many senior Knights preferred to remain inside their suits, the bonds shared with their biomechanical sisters unshakable.

Jeanne entered the Abbess’ office, and the squat older woman immediately frowned up at them.

“Get out of that thing, Jeanne. You’ve got some explanations to give.” She commanded. The Abbess’ own Smirtka in standby against the wall.

Evelína flowered open and Jeanne pulled herself out, affixing a filtration mask to her face.

“Why the use of plasma?” Abbess Cheryl demanded, flicking her hand at a pict-screen that showed Evelína firing six plasma lances at the ones Jeanne had apprehended.

“Evelína seems to have grown fond of it.” Jeanne complained. “I’ve weapon-locked the use of it for now.”

The Abbess shook her head. “It takes time for the Smirtkas to get used to plasma ordinance.” the Abbess replied. “In my experience it’s best to let them learn when it is and isn’t appropriate to use it.”

Jeanne turned to the Smirtka and held out her hand. “Data module.”

Evelína obediently extruded a tendril that presented a silvery-metallic chip that Jeanne plucked up. She gave Evelína’s tendril an affectionate pat and then presented the module to the Abbess.

The shorter woman plugged the chip into her desk and pulled up the records, flicking her hand as she swiped through the data, eyes skipping across the data.

“Well?” Cheryl asked curtly.

“Evelína used plasma ordinance inside the Hive when standard munitions would have been more effective.” Jeanne replied.

The Abbess keyed up the record and scowled as she watched the man evaporated.

“I have some worries about that man.” Cheryl mused. “There’s been reports about terrorists from other Hives- Sludge-warped people bent on destroying what the Lunar Princess gave us. I’d have you investigate, but-” The stout woman cut herself off.

There wasn’t much else to be said- with the man himself evaporated, there were no leads to follow.

Jeanne motioned with her hands, and the Abbess stepped back a little. Jeanne swiped through the data until she pulled up the information on the man’s weapon and the nonstandard targeting module.

“That’s a Veridian targeting module. Expensive and sophisticated; not something you’d typically find on a civilian-grade firearm.” Jeanne pointed out. “There might be some hints there.”

“Custodian-class targeting systems on civilian ordinance? That’s odd, it’s true. Start from there.” Cheryl agreed, and then flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Go with the Moon’s Blessing.”

Jeanne nodded and Evelína flowered open for Jeanne.