[b]Solarel[/b]

For a moment, things are sluggish. For a moment, Akaithon brings the sword around. For a moment, she considers the feeling of the lance and the way that she could use the weight of the Makhaira to force a decisive blow directly through the strikes of the Kathresis. For a moment, she calculates how much damage she’s take and whether the lance would pierce deeply enough to reach her cockpit. For a moment, she knows that it wouldn’t. But only for a moment. 

Though no words are spoken, in her mind plays the same fight as yours. The old fight, the tournament fight. You know with absolute certainty that she’s feeling it. She can hear the bells that rang through Instanilios on tournament days and see the streaming pennants of the field. She can see herself fighting through you, and so she raises her sword in the block you made back then, and pulls back from the weight of the lance, brings it around, feels for herself the heft of that blade and the sluggishness of it. The deadly blow doesn’t come because she defends herself from her own lance.

Long ago, in her mind, that sword could go anywhere because in her mind your strength was unbounded. That’s how she saw you, how she’s letting you know now that she saw you. What matter if the blade is heavy and resists the pull if its wielder has the strength of gods to wrench it from the air that holds it? 

But she knew, too, the limits of metal, and now she feels them for herself and so sees deeper than ever before. The sheer force straining against her arms, the way that you bring the lance around again and again to force her to shift and change, the limits of how much pressure the joints of the Makhaira can take, so similar to long before. 

With each move as she feels the limitations in her own arms, she relaxes and settles into your rhythm more and more. This is right. This is more right than almost anything. The sword sings with joy even as it strains against the speed and strength of the last. You can feel the shared rhythm with Akaithon. And…so can she. It’s the first time she’s let herself relax in the entire fight. 

This is perfection, and she knows it too. Her heart knows it better than she’d ever hoped. Despite everything that brought her here, she’s allowed to enjoy this just for itself, just for the moment. No thoughts of anything to come after. You’ve given her that and she’s letting you know it’s making her heart shine. 

[Akaithon opens up and will clear her Guilty condition.]

***

[b]Mirror[/b]

“You’re talking about the Zaldarian, Solarel. The one who earned you your title, One-Day Defender. The battle’s in every history curriculum already, an analysis of what worked and what went wrong, it’s probably going to influence our military strategy for the next century. I’m familiar with her.”

Kiriala shakes her head, but it’s good banter. She’s fluid in her style, or emotional. The latter actually. Earlier in the fight, you might have said this would be a good technique considered intentionally. Switching from a waiting style, to precise technique, to a loose and flexible melee. But it’s more that Kiriala has been letting herself roll with it, at least at this point. Up through that first really good charge she was doing something precise, but when you showed her that all her skill wasn’t enough to defeat the techniques you could wield and then changed up the game on her, she swapped into something much more reactive, playing by her gut. First testing, then more aggressive, and now loose and relaxed and getting into the zone of the fight as a conversation. 

She swings her spear in arcing spins, maintaining her balance, using the momentum of each attack and each block to determine her direction so that she’s never really off-balance or presenting you with a juicy target even though she can’t land anything decisive either. 

“This is hard, y’know? It’s exciting, but it’s hard. When’s the last time a match went like this, even in practice? Most pilots, you exchange a few moves, find something where they’re sloppy, and then the fight’s over. Or they pull out something tricky and the fight’s over. Spear through the neck, stopped at the last second to call the match. And now you’re asking me to do a different analysis. It’s really a step beyond what I’ve been doing. I’m good at fighting, y’know? I’m getting a sense of how you move, the way you shift your tails. I can fight someone and pick up on that sort of thing that…I dunno, what’s the word? The way they lead, it’s like their moves are already happening in my head before they do them, and it’s intuitive. But your capabilities keep changing and you’re setting me different problems. Mental puzzles. Rules I’m supposed to intuit by what you’re saying and how you’re saying it. I didn’t catch the reuse of Ultimate Warrior at all, I was too focused on looking at how you moved and responded to me to really keep that in my head. And I know Solarel, but I don’t know what it means that you fight like her. Your specifications are nothing like the Aeteline’s. Maybe you could beat it with that mecha? It was stronger and faster than my little tiger, but you’ve got some things going on there that might have beaten it if it didn’t catch you off guard. Is that it, is this about getting me comfortable, getting me to lower my guard somehow?”

She continues in the melee, her spear singing as she speaks, the banter and the match going in punctuated movements. One thing you can say for her is that her endurance is incredible. You’ve been going several minutes of high intensity sparring and she’s not showing any signs of slowing or having the Ginger Tiger’s reactions falling off. That physicality really is her strength. Every Hybrasilian child learns to pounce, but few can read motion with the level of consistency and skill that Kiriala is so casually expressing. 

You might also be considering about now that Hybrasil seems to have done a very poor job recording Solarel’s history. That damn old mecha of hers might have gotten in the way. Everyone was too blinded by the pure power to think about how the pilot always seemed to know how to wield it. Maybe you even contributed to that depending on how you told the story once you were free. 

“...No, actually that’s fine too. I have to stop second guessing myself. This is good, this is right. I’ll go all day fighting like this if I have to. I’ll remember every second of this fight and it’s going to dance in my head when I sleep. Thank you~!”

And if anything she picks up the pace, though she’s no closer to defeating you or solving the task you placed before her. 

***

[b]Dolly and Jade[/b]

“The Snow Geese. Have you heard of us, princess? We’re mercenaries with, perhaps, a little bit of free business on the side. We live for ourselves. No grand government lords over us. But that doesn’t mean we’re like some out there, where it’s every woman for herself. We believe in honor! The Snow Geese fly together! We support each other! In our home, every man, woman, and child receives a place of honor. I and my closest guard earn our keep. But those of ours who stay at home prepare the feasts! Each teacher of our children receives their place at the table. Each elder offers their wisdom and deserves their rest. Each child learns how to practice respect [i]and[/i] to speak her mind!”

She comes in with fierce punches. No attempt to garner distance or change the angle. She dodges, deflects, takes the spear thrusts on her strong arms and advances. You nip at her, dancing at range, maintaining the length of the spear between victory and defeat. Unconquered the both of you. 

“Family is what keeps you between heaven and earth, child! It is the hall full of laughter and the heart’s pull home no matter how far you travel. It is good food, good jokes, and better dance! It is community, always having each other’s backs no matter what, no matter who. It’s unconditional love, even for the ones who stray or who do wrong.”

She speaks to you and beyond you, Jade and Dolly. There are shades of these things in Hybrasilian families but Hybrasil also has the gods, and the broader society. Hybrasil thinks bigger than this. It thinks of huntress lodges and research stations and a vast network of trade across a myriad of planets. It’s greater, grander, perhaps more beautiful. But it also forgets the small closeness of these things at times, and Hybrasil can forget the cruelties that are inherent when trying to direct so, so many people. Ada Smith does not.

“We seek only to have a place all our own. To live free, without threat of being found, whether by Hybrasil, or TC, or even the Zaldarians if they have their way. Or by other free companies of less repute than ours. We are tired of hiding, we want our own planet, a home where we can live and thrive and build our own culture!”

You’re going to need to do something. These retreating spear thrusts are like the sting of a wasp and you’ll need a thousand stings before Ada Smith drops in such a mood. Meanwhile, she simply needs you to make one mistake and the fight ends in her favor. How do you end things before that happens?

***

[b]Isabelle[/b]

Your mother scoffs at the dress shops on Akar Prime. Indeed, they simply won’t satisfy. There’s time until the gala. Time you could have been practicing or engineering your mecha. Time you could have studied the Zaldarian hand signs or convinced Quar to start speaking to you. 

Instead, you are on planet Kikuji in Shiki, home to some of the finest fashion houses in TC, albeit with a different sense of style than the capital. It was the best that could be done on short notice. Shiki is only three jumps away from Akar, just close enough to get there, rush a dress fitting, and get back in two weeks for the gala. TC Prime was simply too far to be ontime. 

This is always a bit frustrating. TC controls a vast empire, yet word can’t reach home of your exploits for weeks. Even worse, the time isn’t as long when you’re the one in the ships jumping systems. For you, each jump is a matter of only several hours even though you lose two to three days even on a fast ship. You are literally losing days to the outside world, which is just how long-distance interstellar travel is in TC. 

But it’s important that you make an impression and you can’t wear something old or second-rate. Kikuji does at least offer a few styles. There are long kimono-style formal gowns. There are shorter, sleek dresses that fit nearer to your body. There are shoulderless and backless dresses with slit legs. There are cross-hatched jackets and there are suit jackets, and there are the sort of silk shawls that Almira so favors (she’s already bought three new ones, keep up). There are even a few designs that must have been inspired by Mayze Serpaws, uneven work with only one shoulder and the skirt going longer on one leg than the other, though still in the Shiki style with silk fabrics and embroidery. 

Who do you take with you on this journey, knowing that two weeks will become mere days and time will be so precious? And knowing your mother will be there the whole time?