125: Mecha Combat – Eight
The matches ended up taking the remainder of the day to get through, Pryseia and the other pilots, both the winners and losers, having their break for lunch in whatever corner of the arena they were being kept in between bouts. But they all returned to the activity centre for dinner, amid the cheering of their assorted crews, who swarmed in to receive their returned members the moment they were back together.
"You were fantastic!" Elytra hissed, grabbing Pryseia's arm in excitement as she leaned in to quietly say, "I could tell you were holding back, you know?"
Pryseia's returning grin was blinding at that, her eyes crinkling in mirth as she replied, "I'd hoped you be able to pick up on that. Tell me, what did you divine of the competition?"
Before Elytra could deliver her report, however, Rhea swooped in, throwing an arm across Pryseia's shoulders across from Elytra and laughing, "You've gotta be famished after all that! We can debrief later, but for now, let's get some dinner in you, eh?"
She'd said that to Pryseia, but she caught Elytra's eye, a pointed look that Elytra could feel the intent of even with her empathic abilities dampened - don't reveal tactics in the presence of the enemy.
Pryseia shot her an apologetic look, clearly as caught up in the excitement as Elytra herself had been, so much so that she'd almost gotten just as carried away. Elytra just looped her arm more thoroughly through Pryseia's, helping Rhea steer her towards their table before saying, "She's right. I'm curious to see what the necupole consider dinner fare."
Drone delivered once again, it ended up being something of a salad, consisting of a bed of leafy, deep magenta vegetables tossed with a pleasantly sharp dressing, and absolutely loaded with nuts and fruits and cubes of some kind of breaded protein that Elytra couldn't quite place, making the whole thing feel more decadent than health conscious, and certainly not what she was expecting from their hosts.
After the dinner plates were cleared away, Sailarnaalha climbed up onto her chair, letting out a strange, melodic warble that very quickly had all eyes on her.
"Well now, first round and half of you are out," she grinned, raising her cup towards the vanquished in salute - Elytra couldn't help but noticed they looked more chagrined than distraught over being knocked out of the running so early, "Good fights all around, but some of you were better at playing the Necupole's game than others."
A smattering of applause broke out at that, some of the mercs turning to give nods of recognition to the victors, Pryseia and Bulle receiving the lion's share of that attention.
"But at the end of the day, we all know the score here," Sailarnaalha continued on, her grin sharpening, "Though they're relying on us to bring them victory, and so more money to their pockets when buyers come clamouring for their products, our patrons are going to give us none of the credit. Outside of closed doors, at the very least. And why would they? Inferior as we are to them and all."
That got a dark, knowing laugh out of the mercenaries.
"So, it falls on us to give credit due where credit is owed. To our victors," Sailarnaalha finished with another lifting of her cup, "May you live long enough to see your enemies fall before you. Now let's get a proper celebration going!"
The cheers that followed that were much louder, some of the mercs standing to move chairs and tables out of the way while others darted off to the sides of the room, panels in the walls sliding open at their approach, bottles and other items on shelves Elytra couldn't quite make out from where she sat.
The lights in the room, which had been dimmed to an evening glow, darkened momentarily before flashing into a kaleidoscopic spray of colour, music of the most danceable variety pouring forth from the speakers around the room. In the cleared space of the dining area, some of the mercenaries threw themselves into dance like they fully expected this to be the last night of their lives - no doubt a second nature response, because given the dangers of their profession, every day could very well be the one where it all came crumbling down.
"Oof, I don't know if its just because I'm tired, or if I'm getting old, but just looking at that has me tapped." Malakh admitted where she sat, and even Elytra could tell that her exhaustion wasn't just for show. Her morning nap had only been able to do so much for the sleepless night she'd spent tinkering.
"It's definitely because you're tired," Rhea said, her voice warm with fondness, though her eyes had darkened with something else, "Because I know for a fact, if you were on your A game, you'd already be grinding up on me on that dance floor."
Malakh just threw her hands over her face and groaned into them at that, though it did nothing to hide the way her tail looped itself sensually around Rhea's ankle.
Her mandibles flicking as she laughed quietly, Nevara stood, nudging Malakh in the shoulder as she said, "Come on, I want out of here, and I don't feel like carrying you back to the ship if you pass out on me beforehand."
"Okay, I'm not that tired!" Malakh shot back, even though she did look like she'd be passing out before her head hit her pillow. She pushed herself out of her seat, pausing long enough to give the others a parting wave, and Rhea a lingering kiss, before Nevara steered her towards the exit that was closest to where they'd parked.
Pryseia watched them go fondly for a moment before she turned back to the others, saying, "A debrief can wait until we are back aboard our ship, away from foreign ears. For now, let us join in these revels. We've more than earned it."
Rhea didn't know much about mercenaries beyond the stereotypes, but the most prevalent one about them was certainly being proven true here - they were partying like they weren't going to make it to tomorrow.
She's been subjected to enough after action reports while working under the Thalatte to know that casualty rates among merc groups were high, so she couldn't fault them for letting loose whenever the opportunity presented itself. At the same time, it made her oddly grateful that Pryseia had insisted on going Kith instead of mercenary as their post-slavery line of work. Though the two factions led equally dangerous lives, the Kith she'd known acted like they planned on living forever, while every one of these mercenaries seemed to be keenly aware that their own deaths were breathing down their necks. It was subtle, and she was only picking up on it because she was looking for it, but it was still an oddly stark juxtaposition.
The mercenaries were all fully present in the here and now, taking what they could where they could, because the future was all but denied them, and that was not the way Rhea wanted to live. She'd spent too long shackled to powers that hadn't even regarded her as a person, had spent literal decades working incrementally towards the freedom she could now indulge in, friends at her side, family unexpectedly returned to her, and a wife that occupied her thoughts more often than not. Sure, there was the nebulous threat of the Omega on the horizon, a death as certain as the ones that lingered in the footsteps of the mercenaries grooving around her on the dance floor, but it was a distant threat, somewhere far enough in her future that its shadow hadn't yet reached her.
Because she had a future. The fictional one of Chancellor Bathory, brainstormed across too many documents on her console back on the Pelekys. The very real one she was crafting every single day with Malakh and the others as they sought their fortunes among the stars. Her future was no more guaranteed than the ones of these mercenaries were, but as she lost herself here to the rhythm of the music, the foundational difference between merc and Kith was plain for her to see:
The mercenaries lived like the executioner's axe was already on the downswing. The Kith lived like the noose would never catch them.
And given the dire origins she and the rest of her crew escaped from, she knew that the Kith way of living was better for them all. Psychologically, if nothing else.
Back aboard the ship, would Viatrix have become the person she currently was if they'd gone merc, or would she have never become more than a basic VI they could use to track down their targets? Would she have become something worse? A weapon? Nothing more than an object?
Rhea's eyes drifted across the room to where Elytra stood near the bar, a half empty drink in hand as she chatted with a handful of mercenaries, her eyes hazy and her smile loose - a little tipsy, but not plastered. She couldn't imagine Elytra's easygoing nature and creative spark thriving under the merciless life of a mercenary, her relatively short time on Iromay something she'd needed to recover from more than just physically.
Nevara... Rhea couldn't see her complaining about being a mercenary, but she could see what she would be like with a clarity that had her heart clenching painfully. More withdrawn, more subdued, no subtle jabs of humour. She'd seen her like that under the Thalatte, dissociating through her deployments without a care for whether she lived or died. She couldn't stand the thought of her returning to such a state.
And while she wouldn't be as detached, Rhea knew with absolute certainty that Pryseia would be just as blase about if she made it through an enemy encounter or not. She'd spent enough time watching her throw herself in the way of incoming attacks - had to stitch her back together more often than not because of it - to think that Pryseia as a mercenary wouldn't have found a way to sacrifice herself at the earliest convenience. Instead, she was swaying on the dance floor across from Rhea, her hands gesturing wildly as she regaled Gelimp and a few of xir crew mates with some story that had them all laughing.
For herself and Malakh, she didn't know what would have become of them if they hadn't joined the Kith, both as individuals and as a couple. Would they even have gotten married at all, let alone several times over? Would the vedja bond have even snapped into place? Rhea knew her wife, knew how she could lose herself in a project, had seen her do it even once they'd joined up with the Kith. But the Kith had resources she could pull from, contacts she could call on to build the things that would keep her loved ones safe. Mercenaries were more freelance, having to scrounge whatever they could from wherever they could, no safety net like the Kith had for their crews. Rhea felt her breath stutter at the image that swam before her mind's eye, of a mercenary Malakh slaving away at all hours of the day, with whatever she could get her hands on, all for the desperate hope that it would keep them alive for just one battle longer.
The brutal uncertainty of that kind of life had been something they'd been forced to endure under the Thalatte, and Rhea knew full well that it had been weighing heavily on them all before they'd managed to break free, to the point where it had almost become unbearable. She had no doubt in her mind that, if they hadn't gotten out when they did, that if Zaanlaa hadn't come into their lives at the exact right moment, that it wouldn't have been that much longer before they would stopped looking for ways to escape the control of the Thalatte to live out their lives, and started looking for ways to escape through death instead. That thought alone nearly had her crying on the dance floor.
And V'tala, currently surrounded by that same group of usgaisjans, ramrod stiff even with the drink in her hand. If they hadn't found her, she'd still be in stasis, for who knew how long. And even if she had been found, she'd no doubt be dead by now, the odds of her being awoken by someone who knew how to handle a dlegh without being being fatally wounded by it vanishingly small. She'd never have gotten the chance to be freed from it, made whole in a way that her own people had denied her. She'd have died as she lived, a weapon, and nothing more. And as V'tala made her way through the crowd towards Rhea, the human couldn't help the rush of gratitude that their paths not only crossed, but that they'd managed to have the kinds of lives where the both of them - all of them - could actually be happy.
Pausing long enough to take a steadying breath, pushing away her maudlin thoughts (she hadn't thought she was that drunk), Rhea fully turned to face the approaching V'tala and called out over the music, "You comin' to get down?"
V'tala just gave her a withering look at that, instead asking, "Could we have a word? In private?"
Rhea shot her a grin in response, shaking her empty glass and saying, "Sure, I should probably have some water too, I don't wanna get that fucked up!"
She fell into step behind V'tala as the woman carved her way through the crowd, heading straight for their suite. The moment the door closed, cutting off the heat and the noise of the party outside, Rhea felt how drunk she actually was with a swoop that had her light headed.
She didn't stumble as she made her way to the food fabricator, but she couldn't help the unsteady laugh that tumbled out of her as she said, "Oh hohoho noooooo, I am that drunk. I'm cutting myself off before I get stupid."
V'tala didn't say a word as Rhea bypassed the default menu and punched in a plethora of complicated chemical formula to whip up something to help purge the alcohol from her system before she got even more fucked up, remaining motionless just inside the door while she waited for the other woman to finish with her concoction. Thankfully, Rhea had her remedy ready in moments, and taking the glass full of a frothy green liquid, she threw herself on the couch, patted the seat next to her and asked, "What's up? It can't be life threatening, or you'd'v had someone by the throat by now."
She didn't sit when she came around the couch to face Rhea. Instead, V'tala stood there , turning her mostly full cup in her hand, an uncharacteristic nervousness locking up her frame in a way that had Rhea immediately on edge. Throwing back her drink in one long pull, she stood and asked, "What's wrong?"
Jaw clenched, V'tala didn't meet her eye for a worryingly long moment of silence. But just as Rhea took a breath to question her once more, V'tala frowned, hastily downed the entirety of her drink and told her, "One of those mercenaries propositioned me."
That was very much not what Rhea had been expecting. It took her a moment of stunned silence before she got out, "I'm assuming you told him no?"
The tension across V'tala's shoulders had Rhea's aching in sympathy as the other woman said, "A woman asked me, actually. And I wanted to say yes, but…"
V'tala stepped away, a harsh breath scraping path her bared teeth as she forcefully placed her cup down against the closest surface and continued, "But I don't know how any of it works."
She'd waved a frustrated hand at her lower half at that, and Rhea was powerless to stop the sigh of understanding that escaped her.
"I was built to be a weapon, not breeding stock," V'tala went on, bitterness colouring her words, "Some people did use their dregil for sexual gratification, but my dryhten wasn't one of them. The extent of my sex education was going in for a medical exam just before I pledged my dlegh so that they could confirm that the procedure they'd done on me in infancy to render me infertile had worked, and that's it. With everything that's happened to me since you all got me out of stasis, I haven't even thought about it… and now it's like I can't think about anything else."
Coming over to stand next to her, Rhea said, "You're allowed to, you know. Think about it. Have it, even. It's kinda funny, but I think Elytra's the only one of us who can actually have kids, as the rest of us got sterilized by the Thalatte. Or, well, I guess Vi too then, but digital reproduction is a whole other kettle of fish that I am too drunk to contemplate the intricacies of at the moment."
That got a whisper of a laugh out of V'tala, the tension in her spine loosening a fraction, and Rhea returned it with a quiet laugh of her own
"I can get you educational material to show you the actual ropes, as I just know how everyone's junk works in very clinical, medical ways, not sexy fun time ways." Rhea told her.
V'tala had the faintest of smiles as she turned to her and said, "Somehow I think Malakh would beg to differ."
That had a laugh barking our of Rhea so forcefully that she had to grab on to V'tala's shoulder to stop from tipping over, and V'tala braced a hand against the small of her back to steady her.
Her eyes tear bright, Rhea tugged V'tala against her once she caught her breath, folding her into a tight hug as she whispered, "I'm really glad to have you in my life, y'know? After all the shit you've been through, you deserve every piece of joy you can get your hands on."
It took a moment for V'tala to unfreeze in her grasp, but after a moment, her arms snaked around Rhea's ribs, holding her back just as tightly, and it was into Rhea's shoulder that she whispered, "I'm really glad to have you in my life too."