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[img]https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f_LTq0OeBbc/VxcB8BBaL0I/AAAAAAAAFE0/CYRvABdwY4oAASdwH2AwV1J5YY0SW3HNQCLcB/s640/Mikumo.gif[/img][/center]
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[color=7e5e7f]"Privet, dorogiye!" [/color]

These machines sought with their own senses, and in their thermals a single point glowed vibrant red. Some of their spotlights settled upon it, light piercing the gloom to illuminate the threat to their searching sensors. The threat wasn't hiding; the harsh lights refracted on the steam issuing forth every time a drop of rain struck her skin, reflected off of the lenses over her eyes and the opalescent inlay on her spinning Gladius. Where they started dull by the end of its twirl they again glowed crimson, sharing Rivka's changing definition of 'reloading'. After all, there were no bullets. It was her power harnessed into a form she understood in and out; it was not an instrument itself but a conductor's baton. She was herself the symphony. 

The Baeterran laughed, clear and musical, and bowed deeply to her robotic foes.

[color=7e5e7f]"An encore, then? Akh, tol'ko dlya vas."[/color] Her baton snapped up, sight flipped open and aligned with her eye. The spotlights impeded her own vision, even through her shades, but they also gave her unmistakable locations for her [i]targets[/i]. She drew a breath, in slow and steady, and watched the bob of the loose formation of lights. As fast as their brains were they were [i]simple[/i], without creativity or genius. A tune generated by algorithm in the face of her artistry. Which was why she saw the shot they didn't account for, the moment that two targets overlapped and became one. 

Her Gladius answered with both barrels, spewing white hot bursts of her Elementum at the same instant. If one of lesser power was enough to pierce one, then what these miniature suns would do scarcely bore thinking on. If it weren't fun. Who knows, they might have clustered closely enough that she could get some collateral damage out of those darling little novas. She'd need a moment to 'recharge', though, and the axes of threat were multiplying [i]quickly.[/i] She jerked the bayonet off of her rifle with her other hand and held it loosely. A quick pivot and a few steps back put most of the enemies within her sight— if peripherally— and a wall at her back.

[color=7e5e7f]"How are we looking, girls?"[/color]