“We will set right this cursed hellscape we’ve inherited, and all of the Ocean will feel the injustices we felt. Even if we have to fight, year by year, for however long your future lasts.”

Bored out of her skull and just a little bit antsy, she began to drift in and out of various fantasies. Looking at each station reminded her of her officer cadre. There was a good crop of officers on the Brigand. A whole bridge full of beauties.

Had Homa been any more ambiguous– she may well have had to cover off the possibility. But the sad, withdrawn girl in front of her was no threat to anyone right now. She would not do anything to merit extreme measures.

And yet– perhaps– maybe– she could be reliable– those eyes– that smile– “Y-Yes. Yes. Go. Cut through them. I’ll– I’ll call in Hunter VII and Sentinel X as well.” “Splendid! I shall bring you their heads, superior. Simply await my triumphant return.”

Norn returned her attention to the main screen, still stroking Adelheid’s hair with affection. “I can’t fight everyone’s battles for them. I refuse to be used like that anymore.” She said. Miming Norn’s words, Adelheid replied, “Now there’s the rebellious Praetorian I love.”

Hunter III let out a deep-held sigh and collapsed against the wall, relaxing her tense body. Though the bridge’s main screen still showed a lot of red water, she couldn’t feel the Autarch anymore. That was an incredible relief.

“Do you understand now, Kremina? Do you understand my change of heart, why I had to let go of the Union, of my power? Do you understand why, for my convictions, for the things I want others to believe, it is necessary that I became mortal?”

None of those people wanted to powerfully, so strongly, to kill, to hate, to commit violence. None of those people had been so purposeless in their pursuit of tragedy. We don’t have to kill each other. We don’t. Selene, please.

Majida al-Khaybari was the Apostle of Fire. And the Apostle of Fire could control not only things burning and violent, but the distances between persons and objects, like combustion sucking in oxygen or a detonation pushing out the world with its shockwave.

She had no first-hand knowledge of such things and, then her wondering, largely brainless gaze descended to somewhere sensitive, “Checkin’ me out?” Kalika said, a sly smile on her face. “It’s okay, I’m flattered~”

Homa– Homa–? My name is Homa Baumann. I’m from Kreuzung. Please don’t kill me. Nasser remembered. And then– her wrath, the coming to blows. Hatefully screaming Nasser’s name in an ever-fading voice as she died.

“Now it’s your turn to remember.” Gertrude teased. “What was our little motto back then?” Ingrid snorted. “Y’think I would forget? ‘We carve out our own justice’. How corny!”

“Of course, Premier. Please take care on the way back.” Erika drew back. “Is that really how you feel?” She asked, in a mischievous voice. “You’re a bitch.” Kalika said. “But you’re the only bitch here with her head on right.”

Strong-shouldered, tall, fair-skinned with a sort of earthy, rustic beauty. This woman shared Von Drachen’s rank, but unlike him, she had been an early and true believer in the Volkisch order: Heidelinde Sawyer.

Crazy as it was, this girl had a dream that shone with all the might of her soul. Shalikova found herself moved by it. Though anxious, she wanted nothing more at that moment, than to remain at Maryam’s side.

Norn was– strange. She was just– strange– Norn was a lot of things! She could be scary, frustrating, generous– she gave Hunter III a lot of emotions.

“Answer me, Gefreiter— what is the fate of the Loup? Do you know better than God?” She knew the answer she would not speak. Just as he knew her name and would not use it. Loup were born into servitude.

Around her in the drained tunnels there were all manner of gory remains. Taking a breather, she tested how much strength the remains of her body had left. She managed to force herself to a sit. And to then to drop forward onto her belly and breasts.

Goods, talent, people’s bodies; Madame Arabie had her pick of all the best from the station’s Shimii. They were all hers to use, whether they believed it or not. Better to be used than discarded. Better to have a little pleasure than suffer frugally.

If I could save right here and just come back to this moment whenever I wanted. It was time– Alex had been too passive. She needed to make a gamer move.

“I’ll accept your feelings, no matter what. I’ll accept them for you, Maryam. I love you too.”

She could feel sounds and thoughts sloughing off as if the machine was broadcasting, as if its eldritch signals were so powerful that they could not help but affect the surrounding waters.

“I have to keep moving forward. That’s my curse in this world.” And she knew, and now Murati knew as well– it would be her curse in the next world too. For all that she suffered fighting for humanity. She would be spared the bliss of death.

Despite the differences in size and strength Zachikova did not wait. Reciprocating, she pushed back onto the creature with her own needy kiss. With ardor they locked lips again and again, lingering breaches inviting brief mutual taste.

“Hey, um, Ms. Loukia–” “No~; please call me Kalika, Homa.” “Kalika– what kind of business is this ship involved in?” “Ah. Well. It’s part of a ‘transport company.’ That’s all I can say.” “So they’re doing something illegal.” Homa whispered.

“It is important to me, Kremina, to be humble now. To lower my head to others. I became mortal because I must die. Clinging to the world has had perverse effects on my life. I have to let go in order to let others rise up.”

“You never were allowed to be part of the inner circle, even though you were so devoted to me. You don’t know how each of them found their own immortality. Yangtze, Euphrates, Tigris, Nile, Potomac, Hudson and myself, formerly, Ganges.”

“Boss, is it time to eat her yet?” Hunter III moaned. “No.” Norn patted Hunter III’s head like that of a dog. Hunter III pulled her hood up over her head and sat barefoot on the cold floor, sulking.

Gertrude grinned silently to herself. Everything was overturned. What a terrifying world; more terrifying than it ever had been. Vast, bleak and hopeless.

Immediately, Caderis bowed her head. “They’re going to keep hurting me.” She mumbled. Arabella was surprised. She hadn’t gotten the same understanding from what the Others had said. “No, Caderis, Margery is doing a good job. So everything will be okay, right?”

Labrys smiled, bearing all of her many sharp teeth. “Of course they respect her. She was created to rule. It is her inalienable genetic Destiny. Neither of us would be alive and here if she could not command basic respect.”

No rest for the wicked; every day on the Antenora’s bridge, there was some kind of drama.

Long-legged, busty, tall and fit, a bit of makeup; a mature beauty in mercenary uniform. Along with a peaked cap that had a gold-bordered red star displayed front and center. “Greetings, Homa Baumann. I’m Captain Ulyana Korabiskaya. Let’s have a little chat.”

Sometimes, she was made aware of ‘pain’ and through pain, aware of her frailty.

And yet– perhaps– maybe– she could be reliable– those eyes– that smile– “Y-Yes. Yes. Go. Cut through them. I’ll– I’ll call in Hunter VII and Sentinel X as well.” “Splendid! I shall bring you their heads, superior. Simply await my triumphant return.”

She could hear a laugh– a girl’s uproarious laughter at her own superiority. Her eyes, even through the water and the machines, she thought she could see– –a girl like her? Long-haired, golden-eyed, in a pilot’s bodysuit, too young–

If she was successful, she might be able to ascend beyond this fallen place, beyond this accursed ocean beneath a dying sky. Millenia dreamed of an Empire that spanned more than just the territory of Aer.

For Elena, she would have killed, annihilated, repressed, crushed all of Aer, with a smile. And in the absence of Elena. She would have done those things also– –wouldn’t she? She would have even, unleashed that same violence upon Elena herself.

“Heh, heh, heh, heh,” A laugh that was like nails scraping furiously on a chalkboard. Alex ignored the chill down her spin and drummed her fingers on the station, sighing deeply. She was just a hopeless woman of culture, astray in an ocean of luscious temptations.

“In each and every one of you there are a thousand generations of resistance. Rest assured, you will inspire a thousand more.”

An item of the mother she could hardly remember. A gift from the great dark figure that pried her from the grip of death. And now, Cherish that little life in your hands,

Around the pyre light, they could finally see the figures of the enemy scattering– along with one figure struggling on the ground. Illya grinned, shadows playing about her face from the flame.

Upon touching her Hunter III immediately seemed to realize something was wrong, like a dog sniffing an intruder, and her eyes went red, she was using psionics herself. “Huh? Her brainself is gone. Who did that?” Hunter III said.

Homa– a hero? Fingers in her mind pored over those words, the texture, the color, sound.

Had she been on her own Shalikova would have simply sank further into her own morbid thoughts. Maryam had been so kind to her. In her absence, the world felt suddenly emptier, both in the hangar and in Shalikova’s heart…

“Keep working hard, cutey.” “Huh?” By the time Homa recognized the compliment, Ulyana Korabiskaya was back in her ship.

This silly shit is beneath you. You’re going to apologize because you’re the strong, confident, sexy biracial chick. Sometimes you just let the uppity bottom get the W on you, and it makes you look cool.

The Antenora’s Jagdkaiser Type I fixed its eyes and those of Selene Anahid on Shalikova’s own.

“Did you know– once you become fully biomechanical, that feeling goes away. You are set to right; you reach an apotheosis.” Hudson said suddenly. Kalika narrowed her eyes at her. Her aura shifted– her intentions– “Have you reached an Apotheosis, Kalika Loukia?”

She leaned in Ingrid’s direction as well, pushing just a little closer to her. Her friend’s tail hit the bed with a rhythmic “wump, wump.”