116: The Daughters of Ceto – Seven
The day of the attack on Mercatus Station finally arrived, and the Pelekys was in position in subspace, surrounded by other Kith vessels as they waited for the signal to charge.
"Cameras are all up and running," Elytra said, a faint tremor in her voice as her eyes darted across the information her Longan Unit was showing her, "I've set them all to record automatically, but it's the standard command if you want one of them to pull focus on something in particular. We'll worry about editing it into a cohesive narrative once we're safely away from all this."
Dressed in her full Augury outfit, the face plate of her helmet open, she was falling back on Malakh's nervous habit and pacing across the bridge. Under the iridescent light of subspace coming from the main view screen, all of their Kith armour gleamed, and when Elytra passed the gunner station Malakh was sat at, the deorviran reached out to loop her tail around the pacing woman's wrist as she said, "And we will all be safely away from this."
It was less the physical touch and more the unshakeable wall of confidence coming off of Malakh, as sure and steady as summer sunlight, that finally managed to settle Elytra's nerves.
"You're right," she breathed out, nodding at her, "You're right. We've been practicing, we've got combat experience, we're not alone. We're going to be fine."
From her seat at the other gunner station, Rhea said, "Exactly! By this time tomorrow, we're gonna be knee deep in filming interstitials. Guess we should figure out what our next mission is gonna be, huh?"
"Given how the Thalatte Stratocracy reacted to the destruction of the Quintana and the Circumforanus, I imagine that we will be avoiding their space for the foreseeable future," Pryseia said from where she was taking up Rhea's usual perch of leaning against her throne, "And given their increased need for parts, I was going to suggest more Leviathan hunts. For the time being, at the very least."
"It would give us more practice with the Storlayacas, if nothing else," Nevara said from the pilot's seat, helmet on and face plate up like Elytra, "I've a feeling that, when eventually dealing with the Omega, we shall need all the training we can get."
Turning to the console where Viatrix was displaying her red axe avatar, V'tala asked, "Any hint as to when that's arriving yet?"
Flickering with frustration, Viatrix said, "No. Still just an impending sense of something on its way, but not the when of it all. It doesn't feel any more urgent than it normally does, so that's something, I guess? It's not going to spring out of wherever while we're in the middle of all this."
"That would be annoying," Rhea drawled, before she frowned and added, "But maybe a good thing? We get the Thalatte navy up its ass, and it could make the fight easier for us?"
"The threat of a civilization ending monstrosity might be enough to get the Thalatte to shift their attention off of us," Pryseia shrugged, "But then again, they are an obstinate bunch, and might just as likely focus on bringing us down before the Omega could."
"So you're saying we can't rely on them to do the right thing?" Rhea chuckled.
"When have we ever?" Pryseia replied with a laugh of her own.
Nevara shifted suddenly in her seat, and the lackadaisical cheer in the room evaporated as her fingers tapped against her console, all of them going rigid as the view of subspace was replaced by the interior of another ship.
The Telum was the lead ship in the assault on the Mercatus, most of its crew thalatte as fed up with the way their society was run as Sara was. The interior of the vessel was ornately old fashioned, all wood and brass, the amber lights glinting off of decoratively open panels of machinery, the entire look of it hearkening back to an earlier time in Lutiya's past ("We had a similar aesthetic style back on Terra," Leto had told them when they'd first been introduced to the Telum, "Not sure what the Thalatte call it, but for us it was steampunk."). Dressed in a positively resplendent formal jacket over their archaic spacesuit, the dusty green captain, Adynduaa Raiaairazy Hus Halagap, grinned out at the gathered Kith forces.
"All ships are in position, and so the attack will commence shortly. If you'd all be so kind as to sync your onboard timepieces, we can begin to get our launches underway." Captain Adynduaa requested of all assembled.
"I've got us all locked in." Viatrix announced, an eagerness noticeable in her voice.
Captain Adynduaa nodded to something offscreen before turning back to the view screen and saying, "Excellent, everyone's in order. The operation will begin in five minutes, with the first wave departing from Point A. A minute after that, the second wave will slip in from Point B, and the third a minute after them from Point C, then another minute more for the forth wave to emerge from Point D. You lucky sods in mechs had better get yourselves ready. Good hunting to you all, and I look forward to getting drinks on the Quanvengier after this is sorted!"
With that, the broadcast was cut, and the Pelekys' view screen reverted back to the view of subspace.
"That's us, then," Pryseia said, pushing herself away from her throne and catching Elytra and V'tala's eyes, "In the chaos of battle, we stick together. Once our initial task is complete, we head to where the enemy mechs are most concentrated. The Storlayacas give us the advantage, especially if the Thalatte have any Odazaen in their ranks. As for the rest of you, good luck, and show them the type of mercy that they would show you."
"Oh don't worry, we will." Rhea said, all the haughtiness of Chancellor Bathory as she leaned back as the gunner stations swung out, the Pelekys' combat mode activating the surrounding screens in the walls, giving them a view of the assorted Kith ships around them in subspace.
With one last parting look, the crew of the Pelekys split up for the assault, and as nervous as she was about the upcoming fight, Elytra had no doubt that she'd be seeing them again after everything was said and done.
Settling into Zaanlaa's cockpit was second nature at this point for Pryseia, the snug restraints keeping her in place as the control apparatus linked her senses to the mech's, the world opening up to her through its eyes.
"We haven't had much of a chance to go up against other mechs, have we?" She asked quietly, just for Zaanlaa, and she could feel a thrum of eagerness coming from the machine around her. Wary of the disastrous results of Malakh and Castore's communion, she could feel Zaanlaa holding itself back, unwilling to injure the both of them mere minutes before they were set to engage the enemy, but she could still hear a distant echo of its thoughts about the upcoming fight.
Its dim recollection of how the Thalatte had found it, how this had allowed its path to cross with Pryseia, and how this had only been possible because the Thalatte had been intent on using them both as disposable slaves, and nothing more. The indignity of that, the righteous fury. Storlayacas, both its pieces and as a whole, were meant for so much more than something as petty as conquest. Blinded by the Omega, unable to heed the Hyttan's warning, the Thalatte were unaware that they tread the same ruinous path that led to the Hyttan's end, their unquenchable desire to lay claim to everything in the galaxy resulting in them opening whatever wretched plane the Omega called home. If destroying this station would prevent the Thalatte from meeting the same fate, on top of slowing their acquisition of slaves? Then all the better.
Over the comms, Nevara announced, "We're exiting subspace. Prepare to be dematted."
"Confirmed." Pryseia responded, Elytra and V'tala answering a moment later.
Before them, the access walkway pulled back as Zaanlaa, Lianshae, and Enaruli took a step forward, drawing weapons before they were thrown into battle. They didn't have a long wait, Viatrix counting down, "Three… two… one… Dematting."
The calm of the Pelekys' cargo hold was replaced by the chaos swirling around the Mercatus an instant later. The boxy structure of the station itself was at the heart of it all, swarmed by Kith ships coming in from the sides, as well as above and below it. Weapons fire was flying through the void, lighting up the entire space like they were fireworks as ships dove to evade them. The comms were alive with chatter from both the Kith and Thalatte forces, both sides shouting to try and organize themselves for the attack, the surprised Thalatte forces scrambling to launch.
All of this melted away as Pryseia felt herself settle into the rhythm of combat, her only constant for the majority of her life. More so than the Deupazing or Thalatte mechs she'd piloted in the past, she was in complete alignment with Zaanlaa, a seamless unity she'd only felt when they were combined as Storlayacas. With Lianshae and Enaruli flanking her, she aimed her rifle, targeting the shields that flickered across the station.
More Kith mechs fell in with them as they advanced, opening fire the moment they were in range. The shields that protected the Mercatus sparked and howled under the onslaught from both the mech units and the Kith ships bombarding them, lights across the station flickering before cutting out as all available power was shunted to the defence of the station, rather than keeping its more superfluous systems up and running. But it was too little too late.
Concentrating fire on a single location, the shield emitters projecting from that area shorted out long enough for the Kith mechs she was leading to swarm in below the Mercatus' shields, where they split up in order to take out both the emitters and the turrets firing on their forces. Taking a quick sweep of the battlefield, Pryseia saw other mech teams breaking through the shields across the station, tearing into the defences with all the fury of those with a grudge to settle.
An instant and an eternity later, the Mercatus managed to launch its own defence fleet, the ships hurtling out to take on the Kith vessels harrying the station, while the mech units swarmed in to take on those scattered across the Mercatus' hull. Most were SH-3N units, but there were a handful of Odazaen in their ranks.
"We're disabling those to take as prizes," Pryseia called out to V'tala and Elytra, "Just as we practised in the sims - aim for the cockpits, take out their pilots, and we can hand them off to those set to collect them."
"Confirmed." The pair of them called out as one, falling in on her flanks as she rocketed Zaanlaa across the surface of the station to meet their foes, an unseen grin lighting up her features.
She would make the Thalatte regret the decades they spent training her this day.
The Pelekys was neither the fastest or most powerful ship in the Kith's attacking fleet, but with Nevara at the helm, Hyttan upgrades elevating it above its Thalatte origins, it was proving to be one of the deadliest.
What few shots Nevara couldn't evade skated harmlessly off the Pelekys' shields, its guns tearing through the defences of the ships rising to try and stop it, Malakh and Rhea intimately familiar with where to hit a Thalatte vessel for maximum damage. Alongside the Gorgon and a host of other smaller ships, they were clearing the way for the Kith's heavy hitters.
Decades of piloting for the Thalatte had made Nevara very familiar with how they operated, and with the comms open to both Kith and Thalatte channels, Nevara let it all wash over her. Captain Adynduaa barking orders to get the Kith into position, the Thalatte commanders rallying their own side to counterattack, coordinates and codewords clogging the airways, a confusing mess that was all but impossible to parse.
But not for Nevara.
A quick phrase from a Thalatte commander, and she instantly knew what their plan of attack was. Calling out to the ships she was in formation with, Nevara pulled out of their attack run, aiming for the Thalatte ships that had been organizing themselves into a phalanx to target the Kith's heavy cruisers. They barely had a chance to open fire before the Kith were upon them, forcing the Thalatte unit to scatter and try to regroup, leaving the Kith's heavy cruisers ample time to swing into position.
"The Mercatus' shields are weakening." Viatrix announced, and it wasn't long after that when Captain Adynduaa ordered Nevara's group to begin its strafing run.
Nevara didn't allow her attention to be drawn away by the chaos of the battlefield. Behind her, Malakh and Rhea were calling out targets to one another, their weapons fire a constant strobing in Nevara's periphery. The Mercatus was a pale expanse below her, a minty green field against the black of space, the cobalt and gold of Zaanlaa standing out sharply against it, and Nevara only allowed herself a brief glance, watching as it, with Lianshae and Enaruli beside it, bullied into a group of Odazaen, energy sabres plunging into their enemy's cockpits. The airspace was lousy with explosions - ships detonating, as many Kith as Thalatte at this point, but Nevara couldn't dwell on that.
Across the Mercatus, then, a rippling wave passed along its surface as enough of its shield emitters were finally destroyed, and its shields were forced to give up the ghost. The Pelekys and the other Kith ships alongside it dove, their guns swinging round to target the defence turrets the mechs hadn't taken out just yet. Cleaning house so the heavy cruisers could get to work bombing the station to oblivion.
Fire, evade, on to the next target, again and again and again. The steady staccato of the Pelekys' guns thrumming through the ship, the roar from the audio emulators filling in the soundless void of their battleground - the sharp snap of energy beams lancing through space, engines howling, ships exploding. Decades of conflict made the cacophony easy for Nevara to tune out, to keep her focus locked on the task at hand, to follow the orders from Captain Adynduaa as they came through.
When the command came to demat the mechs back aboard and pull away from the station, she did so without question, barely noticing when Pryseia, Elytra, and V'tala stormed back onto the bridge. It was only when the Mercatus, now a distant shape on the view screen, briefly twisted in on itself before a cascading explosion tore it to pieces from the inside out that Nevara felt the fog of war lift from her mind, now keenly aware of the victory they'd just secured.
"Magnificent," Pryseia's eyes were wild, her grin predatory as she watched the station where they'd been processed for their servitude scatter into as many pieces as lives it had destroyed, her hand a burning brand where she gripped Nevara's shoulder, "The ordinance of those heavy cruisers was not something the Thalatte had anticipated."
Chest heaving with emotion, it was all Nevara could do to grip Pryseia's hand back, Malakh and Rhea's cheers ringing in her ears as this horror from their past was sundered across the stars.
The Mercatus would never process another slave again.
Life after the destruction of The Mercatus took a bit of adjustment for the Kith of the Void.
Despite their victory, their losses had been heavy - nearly a third of the ships that had taken part of the operation had been destroyed, and precious few of them had enough time for any of their crews to make it to their escape pods. Most of the survivors rescued were from the mech units that had descended on the station, far from their crews dying above them.
There were whole media divisions within the Kith whose job it was to wrap up the narratives of these crews cut tragically short, and after the Mercatus, they were busy. It was not a task any of them relished.
Some of the survivors were shuffled into existing crews, while others formed new crews of their own. Some kept their mechs, while those that had been too damaged to repair were scrapped for parts, their pilots jumped to the front of the queue for the Odazaen that had been taken in the course of the battle, their repairs still ongoing. There were plenty who took the opportunity to switch from a field combat role to a support role among the Kith's main fleet, while a few others, too distraught over the losses of their crew mates, retired from the Kith altogether. No one could fault them for that.
As for the Pelekys, the ship had made it through the fight with barely a scratch, any of which were fully repaired by the time they reached the Quanvengier (they made an excuse about having an emergency stop to patch things up before they arrived to the main fleet, citing a faulty sensor that had them thinking they'd taken worse damage than they actually had, as an excuse to not have any of the Kith repair crews look close enough to see the now Hyttan construction of their ship), while the crew didn't need more than a hot meal and a night's rest to be back in fighting form.
The Gorgon was intact, though a little worse for wear. Thankfully, it wasn't anything a day's worth of repairs couldn't patch up. The worst injury on the crew was suffered by Ravona, when she'd sustained a minor burn during a patch job in the heat of combat. Yarvela had her and the rest of the crew's injuries treated before they made it back to the core.
And as everyone expected, the Thalatte Stratocracy were pissed. Bounties had been issued for the capture or confirmed kill of anyone involved with the destruction of the Mercatus, and a special task force was being loudly organized to hunt the Kith down.
"The same happened after we took out the Quintana and the Circumforanus," Leto shrugged over drinks at a nightclub on the Quanvengier several days later, the crews of the Pelekys and Gorgon crammed together in a sizeable booth, "They'll make a big show about how they won't allow this kind of injustice to go unanswered, throw a bunch of ships and resources at the problem for a while, and then shunt those crews back to their conquest efforts when they don't end up showing results."
"They will manage to get a few Kith ships," Selene pointed out, "The Thalatte aren't that incompetent, unfortunately. But it'll be nowhere near the results they want to see. They'll hound us for longer than they should, wasting time and people, and have very little to show for it at the end of the day. It's going to be an inconvenience for everyone involved."
Malakh had to set her drink down as she let out a forceful laugh at that announcement. "We originally sought you out to try and get the Thalatte off our backs, and now they're going to be even more up our asses than before. I feel like we should have expected this, somehow."
Sara let loose with a screeching laugh of their own, saying, "Well, it won't just be you they're after now, will it? The Kith as a whole will be under greater scrutiny, so you lot should have an easier time of it getting lost in the sauce, is the saying, I believe? That's how it worked out for us, after all!"
"Besides," Yarvela said, casually leaning back in her seat, "If you're anything like us, you'll be too busy with your next mission to have the time to stress over whatever it is the Thalatte are trying to accomplish."
Shooting the crew of the Gorgon a questioning look, Pryseia asked, "You have something lined up already, then?"
"Technically we've had something on pause while the mission with the Mercatus was going down," Phoebe explained, "A regular contact of ours in Zymeth space - tracking down local slavers and freeing whoever they'd captured. Sadly, it's more than the Thalatte who kidnap people for personal gain. What about you ladies? Anything in the works yet?"
Glancing over at the rest of her crew, Rhea said, "We're thinking of hunting down Leviathan for a bit, see if we can bring in some bigger catches for the fleet, now that they've had to pull deeper into the core. Plus, it'll be good practice with our mechs, especially considering the big fish they were made to fry."
Letting out a breath, her mandibles clicking in worry, Ravona hissed, "That. If your mechs hadn't shown us, I wouldn't have believed it."
"Trust me, even after everything we've experienced with them, I still find it hard to grasp sometimes." Elytra admitted with a whisper of a laugh.
"Well if you need us - for any reason - just call," Phoebe swore to them, turning to Rhea, "Now that we've got you back, we'll do anything to keep you safe."
"Please know that the feeling is mutual," Pryseia returned with a solemn nod of her own, "Should you require our aid, know that you'll have it."
Sara slammed back the rest of their drink, a wry grin on their face as they said, "That attitude is much too serious for the victory we should be celebrating. I'm getting us another round!"
"I can help with that." V'tala volunteered, standing from her seat at the edge of the booth, and Sara trilled in delight.
"Top notch! I haven't enough hands to carry all that we'll be needing to chase their dour mood away!" Sara said as they scrambled over Yarvela, who squawked indignantly at that.
"You can ask me to move, you hazard!" She yelled at their retreating form, and Sara just waved jauntily over their shoulder back at her as they and V'tala headed for the bar.
"Come on now, you know that's not the stupidest thing they're going to do once they get some more alcohol in them," Leto said, finishing off her own drink, "We're looking at a long night of babysitting ahead of us."
Raising the remainder of her drink in cheers, Malakh said, "Then here's to that. May we have many such nights of bullshittery in our future."
The gathered crews of the Gorgon and Pelekys were more than happy to drink to that.