[b]Dolly 
[/b]
You see the Leopard hesitate. Her hand atop you goes stiff. For a moment all her muscles ripple and you’ve got nothing to think about but the scent of her sweat and the sound of her breathing. Instinct wars in her, the closeness to you, the desire to touch to press even as Jade’s words froze her. 

Then she stands.

[b]Jade[/b]

Your words echo out. Below the gangway the crew trembles and so do some of the Banders, but not all of them. Not the Jaguar who claims to be facing Dolly, she’s looking intently. And the Leopard…for a moment you’re not sure what she’s going to do. Not sure what else you could say to move her. You can tell she’s having a physical reaction to being near Dolly, you’re aware of Hybrasilian biology, so you wait and your patience is rewarded.

She stands.

[b]Dolly and Jade[/b]

“Forgive me, priestess.” The Leopard smiles. Everything about her screams wild energy, just barely restrained. She slowly takes your hand, glancing up at Jade to ensure she has not erred. Lifts it and kisses the back of your palm, just barely nipping the skin with her fangs. “I presumed overmuch” she says formally, the way her parents must have taught her. “And I beg your forgiveness.”

She waits, then for your intercession. But see the Banders below, how their eyes shine. Jade’s threat is in the open. A threat to their birth stars, yes, a very serious threat in response to her high priestess being under threat. See them considering their mythology. Think back on your own Hybrasilian mythology. If the high priestess is this valuable, her symbolism will be a ward against Jade’s wrath in the future. If the high priestess is this valuable, her absence would cause the goddess great lamentation. If the high priestess is this valuable, then there may be other priestesses to set against her, and other gods who would favor the Banders. Hybrasilians always have favored freedom and many a goddess would offer her favor and protection to those who hunt with no restraint, seeking victory with all their might. 

Well, high priestess, what is your intercession?

***

[b]Mirror[/b]

Slate frowns when you tell her of the sounds. She’s sitting now like a lily suspended on the water, both legs up on the cushions, head up, lost in thought. 

“How would they know? The Hangar’s full of engineers. There’s gonna be buzzing and clanging. There will be the low rumble of the transports, and the pounding of mecha feet steel upon steel.” 

You can see Slate losing herself in the sound of the hangar, the experience of it. There’s a song in her head, a quickening one. “The lights hum in B flat minor, slightly out of tune, you hear it going all the time, but you tune it out. The chatter fades into a hum, rising and falling, there’s a crescendo to it, matching the timing of the shuttles, concentrating and spreading. There’s the hum of the crystal fire, muted, but you can feel it even through all the protection, the power coursing through each metal shell, giving it life.”

She’s vibrating as she thinks. You can see her thinking in tune to the life in the Hangar, the days spent on repairs, supervising crews, standing on the balcony and feeling the space waft up to her. 

“Timing. It’s not the sound, it’s not that you couldn't hear anything there, but the timing would be off. There’d be something discordant, not in line with the rhythms of the space, someone changing the space, right, they have to do that constantly, it won’t rise and fall the way that people move normally. That’s what we’ll ask the crew, if there was something nagging them, the mosquito of the Hangar.”

She opens her eyes, looks at you, Mirror. “Can’t say there’s nothing I’m good at. I’ll leave questioning the criminal underworld to you when you feel like it, boss. I’ll talk to the crew tomorrow. There’s figuring this out and there’s preventing it happening again. And I don’t think a lock on the cockpit will do the trick, even a really good one.”

She grins, and that’s when you hear a knock at the door. Matty’s arrived, finished with her work. She’s dressed in her uniform still, full body suit with no fabric to get in the way while she’s working. Seems like she decided to come straight here without changing once she got off work. If you look through the door, you’ll see her standing with her feet close together, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and rocking her whole body nervously, her hair swaying a little with each shift above her mottled swimming cat stripes on tan fur. One hand by her side, the other raised but hesitant, unsure how long to wait before she knocks again.

***

[b]Isabelle and Solarel[/b]

No warnings flash. These are both mechas of the same facility, there is no reason that their creators know that they would be pitted against one another. They are too precious for such work. Perhaps this is why the spirit risked itself rather than one of these machines. 

Nevertheless, an unknown mecha closing from above finds itself suddenly passed, met by a freezing blast from above and newly forged munitions before it makes its descent. A small mecha like this doesn’t have the armor to take such a blow, but the crystal fire drive is as strong as they come and has fewer jobs to do with such a small size frame. Thus the descending mecha, the Enkindler, has speed and shielding for the defense, and a blade newly forged to retaliate. 

Let us see the fight.