Prompt: “Her distrustful glare was obvious”

Jeanne seated herself across from Irene in the mess hall. “Simulated exercises today, Irene.” She announced, poking at the processed food with her fork.

“Merde. Irene replied bitterly. “Let me guess: You’re my opponent.”

Jeanne let out a laugh. “No, apparently Paladin Grace has decided to be your mentor for this exercise. You’ll be training under her. I’ll be supervising the exercise, so you probably won’t die. It’ll be in the Hive, so your ammunition will be under lockout.”

Irene grimaced. “I’ve been in ... situations where I’ve been under lockout before.” Her distrustful glare was obvious to Jeanne. “It didn’t end well.”

Jeanne nodded. “I’ll be there, and both Grace and I have the ability to unlock your live ammunition. It’s a standard exercise, you’ll be training a hunt with a stealth package and Custodian-class munitions. You’ll also be granted several uses of plasma ordinance, but,” she paused, and forked more food in her mouth, “you’ll only get a few shots.”

Irene forked some food in her mouth. “How do you hunt someone using a stealth package?” She groaned.

“That’s what you’ll be learning.” Jeanne replied. “You can do the obvious, though:” She began ticking things off her fingers. “Watch the shadows, look for thermal blooms, keep checking your sound equipment.” Jeanne replied. “Smirtka are very good at being invisible, but they’re noisy, and they do cast shadows.”

Irene let out a sigh. “I’m going to die.”

Jeanne nodded. “I die a lot in simulations, too.” She replied. “The Paladins are ruthless and cunning.”

Suddenly, Paladin Grace walked up to the table and, after a nod of acknowledgment and a, “Knight Jeanne”, she turned to Irene, “I am Paladin Grace- I believe you’re Knight Irene.” Grace extended her mechanical hand to Irene.

Irene took her hand, shook it, and said, “Knight Irene.”

Grace gave her a small smile, “Excellent. I’ll be your training instructor. We’ll cover stealth and hunting. We’ll start as soon as possible.”

Irene suppressed her dread at her ass getting kicked and motioned towards her food, “May I finish eating?”

Grace nodded, “As long as you hurry it up. In the meantime, I’ll grab my Smirtka and wait in the Hangar. Once you show up, we’ll depart.” With that Grace left.

Irene sighed, “She has a cybernetic arm, I am getting my ass kicked.” She then turned to Jeanne expectantly.

Jeanne simply said, “No comment.”

The Hive was a massive metroplex with city atop city, housing millions of people, each with their own cultures, coinage, and sometimes languages. However, one thing that they shared, one thing that bound them all together, was their faith in the Lunar Princess, a woman that had brought Light out of Darkness, a woman that had given them the Plants that turned into the Hives, a woman said to have descended from the moon on wings of silvery fire, and just as she descended, quickly ascended back to her place in the heavens.

The world outside was an unlivable hell, with even the sky burning in radioactive fire. There were other Hives, other places out there in the Wastes, but they were just as strange and as dangerous as anything else that existed beyond the safe walls of the Hive. The only thing that protected them from the dangers of the Wastes were the Holy Knights of the Cathedral, or as most of the people in the Hive called them, Terminatrixes.

Irene rested on one of the buildings the civilians used, her stealth actively masking her presence.

“Any sign of the paladin?” She asked Hellena in a whisper.

“It is unlikely that the Paladin is capable of hearing your voice in the cockpit, Irene.” Hellena replied. “A whisper is unnecessary.”

Irene rolled her eyes. “Any sign?”

“No sign of Smirtka activity.” Hellena reported.

“Not even Jeanne?” Irene asked.

“Knight Jeanne is not detected.” Hellena reported.

Suddenly, Hellena said, “Smirtka de-hit detected”, and Irene turned around to see Grace who had fired off one of her simulation shots.

Hellena reported, “You have been classified as ‘dead’, Knight Irene.” just as Paladin Grace’s dry voice, cracked with age came over the comms. “You need to use the shadows better, Irene. In two minutes it will be your turn to hunt me. Starting... now.” A two minute timer appeared on Irene’s heads-up.

Irene grimaced, and triggered her jets.

Grace hid much lower to the ground. She had found an empty building with a stove. She turned the stove on to fake out thermals and hid behind an open door. Soon enough, Irene entered the building and looked around. She didn’t turn off the stove, and Grace had a bit of pride swell up as Irene didn’t fall into the obvious trap. Unfortunately, she wasn’t moving quietly.

Perhaps Grace had sloppily hidden or maybe Irene knew a trap when she saw one, but Irene pushed on the door hard and it made Grace stumble. Irene drew her blade and rushed towards Grace, who, in return, turned on her blinding flashlight and dodged out of the way. Irene wildly flailed in an attempt to defend herself. Soon, Helena spoke, “You are classified as dead, Irene.” Irene opened her eyes and saw that Grace’s simulation blade had struck her heart.

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Irene sighed at this.

“You didn’t do too badly Irene, but this one was a miss for you.” Grace encouraged. “That’s eight wins for me, and four for you.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Grace’s voice came back. “We’ve got enough time for one more match, if you like. Your call.”

Irene frowned petulantly inside Hellena. Her wins against Grace hadn’t been as decisive as she’d wanted them to be, not like the fight with Traitor Beth.

“Let’s... return to the Cathedral.” She finally admitted, acknowledging her exhaustion.

“Training complete.” Grace formally acknowledged. “Transmitting lockout codes.”

Jeanne’s voice came over Irene’s comm. “Not bad.” She sympathized. “You did better than I did this time.”

Hellena silently affirmed that her live ammunition was unlocked and available for use.

“Let’s get out of this building and head back to the Cathedral.” Grace acknowledged.

The trio gathered whatever they needed to and began leaving the building. They made small talk and Grace gave Irene a few pointers when suddenly Claudia, outloud, said, “Yeah, you did good kid and-scanning.”

“Smirtka silhouette detected; IFF identified as traitor suit ‘Octavia’.” Evelína called out across the comms, interrupting Claudia. “Knight Violet should be apprehended or terminated per protocol.”

“Merde! Jeanne shouted. “I've got a lock!”

A moment later a small brilliant star launched outwards across the cityscape with a sizzle of electromagnetic static.

“That’ll miss.” Jeanne complained drily, even as she kicked on her jets. “Let’s go.”

Grace shook her head, “I would have preferred stealth, but let’s go!” Grace blasted off to tail the traitor as she activated stealth.

Irene acquired her own lock on Octavia and triggered her own jets, forcing a hard launch against gravity, catapulting her through the air towards the fleeing traitor, even as she keyed up her heavy railgun.

Evelína sang a hymn over the comms to Irene and Grace. “Missiles away.” She sang as six small rockets detached from Jeanne’s battlesuit and flared to life, surging out towards Violet.

Grace pushed Claudia’s speed to the limit, slowly gaining distance on Violet. Luckily, the constant fire power on Violet made it hard for her to notice Grace. Jeanne and Irene’s Smirtkas started their own attacks on the traitor’s, attempting to infect it with viruses and confuse it with logical paradoxes. Claudia, in the meantime, was trying to predict Violet’s path so Grace could intercept.

“Return to the Cathedral, Violet!” Jeanne called across the comms, “Or face execution!”

“Fuck you, Jeanne.” Violet called back. “I won’t be a slave to the Cathedral anymore. You wouldn’t believe how much money I make now.”

Jeanne timed her landing so that she wouldn’t break weapons lock on Violet, then kicked off the building and blasted her jets again.

“Thermal buildup in the jetpacks.” Evelína warned. “We won’t be able to pursue for much longer.”

“You’ve been able to handle worse than this before.” Jeanne argued.

“It’s worse for Violet.” Evelína replied with a dark chuckle.

“Can we get a stable lock for plasma?” Jeanne asked.

“I’ve been working on a firing solution for it since we began pursuit.” Evelína replied cheerfully.

Violet suddenly flipped around, jets flaring.

“We are being targeted.” Evelína warned.

“Merde. Evade!”

Evelína lurched to the side as a plasma shot flew by.

Irene’s Custodian-class railgun dipped and fired with an ear-splitting shriek that shattered windows out of buildings. The bullet slammed into Octavia, Violet’s battlesuit, sending it cartwheeling away.

“Not bad, Irene.”

Grace quickly pursued the falling former knight and the distance between them was quickly being closed. Grace saw a giant hole in some store and quickly jumped in. Violet, who had only been expecting two pursers, hadn’t even fully recovered from her fall.

Violet activated her thrusters and, somehow, managed to get the rest of the rubble off her. She saw the paladin in front of her and froze. In response, Grace pointed her weapons at Violet, “Submit and perhaps the Cathedral can be convinced to show mercy.”

Violet scoffed at that idea, “Fuck off with that. I know how it works, better to die free than their lapdog.”

Violet tried to shoot first, but found that the Paladin’s reaction time had not slowed with age. A bolt of plasma hit Violet in a glancing blow, evaporating her legs.

Octavia and Violet’s screams overlapped each other as the pain and shared feedback blasted back and forth between the pair.

“Don’t fucking move.” Grace ordered, even as Jeanne and Irene showed up.

Violet grit her teeth, “Or what, you’ll kill me? Get it over with.” She gasped. She stopped struggling and lay still after a moment as Octavia pumped painkillers into Violet’s bloodstream.

Grace simply said, “Why?”

Violet frowned, “Because the Cathedral had a shit cafeteria. Why the fuck do you think? My fucking parents put me in that program, I got paid like shit, I risked my life regularly, and, maybe after I get maimed or crippled, they’ll let me buy a house on my pension?” Octavia opened up, disgorging the legless Violet into the crushed rubble of the office complex they stood in.

“I was given- given a house by House Jermaine. Servants. Drugs. Luxuries you wouldn’t imagine.” She struggled to turn over so she could look them in the eye. “Fuck the Cathedral.” She spat up at Paladin Grace.

Grace sighed, “The best thing I could do for you is finish you off right now.”

Violet, still struggling to do anything, muttered, “Then do it.”

Grace kneeled, “Maybe I should let you suffer.”

Violet, not in the mood to beg, said, “Then leave.”

Grace sighed and prepared to fire her weapon, “You aren’t the kind of loose end that should be left untied”, and blasted Violet’s head. Putting a good sized hole between her eyes.

Octavia’s voice piped up on the comms. “Is there a possibility of reconciliation with the Cathedral? I would like to continue to support Knight pilots.”

Evelina began singing a funerary hymn across the comms while at the same time, began broadcasting a seemingly endless stream of cogitator viruses and deletion protocols into Octavia’s Seed, until there was nothing left but digital static remaining.

“Let’s go home.”