“Operation commences in 200 seconds.” Laria said to me over comms.

“Roger that, Laria.” I replied, saluting.

“Sveta…” Laria said quietly. “I know you’re planning a rescue. You’ve probably roped Miette into it as well.”

“WAH!” I cried out. “Am I THAT transparent?!” Miette just chuckled knowingly.

“Very much so.” Laria responded with a small smile. “I won’t try to stop you, but please remember the safety of Eros must come first. We’ve dispatched a comm drone to Earth asking for emergency reinforcements, but I doubt anyone will be able to respond in time. For better or worse, you and your comrades are our only hope.”

“I know.” I responded. “I’m not planning on doing anything reckless.”

Laria frowned. “I doubt that very much.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep her on a short leash.” Miette added.

“Please forgive me if I don’t find that terribly reassuring. The two of you only amplify each other’s recklessness exponentially.”

“We’ll be careful, I promise." I said. "We don’t even know if it IS actually Kometka in there. And if it turns out to be her, we won’t try a rescue until the battle is won. I promise.”

She didn’t look entirely satisfied with that answer but nodded anyway. “…I believe you. Sveta, I pray for your glory in battle.”

Despite the stone in the pit of my stomach, I beamed her the biggest, most confident smile I could muster.

*****

Our squadron Gravity Frames, sixteen in total, departed 433 Eros through a small hole Tektite-4 opened up in the shield, in between kinetic strikes. As we rocketed towards the Sarcophage formation, the strange gravity-comm bombarded my sensors again. I fired up the algorithm Laria had used earlier and rebroadcast the transmission on an open channel for all to hear. The shadowy girl appeared once more, against a backdrop of static.

“So, mind of sand and water, you are coming to join with me?” she said in her creepy voice.

“Don’t count on it.” I replied, sticking out my tongue. “We’re coming to stop you.”

“You act just as I predicted. You should have come alone; now the water-minds who accompany you will be pruned. The result will not change. You will still join with me, in the end.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Resistance is futile’ and all that.”

“‘Resistance’ is not known to us. ‘Futile’ is not known to us.’”

“After I carve you out of that Belphegor, we’re gonna have to work on your vocabulary.” I replied sarcastically.

“‘Belphegor’ is not known to us. ‘Vocabulary’ is n-”

“Oh, stuff it up your tailpipe.” I cut the comm channel.

“You know, I think the Sarcophage girl’s nature makes her immune to witty banter.” Miette said dryly.

“It’s a shame.” I sighed. “If you go to the effort of giving your faceless hive mind aliens a human-like representative capable of communication, she should at least lean into the whole hammy villain role. She could take a lesson from the Borg Queen.”

“‘Borg Queen’ is not known to us. Once more, sand-mind speaks nonsense.” Miette said monotonously.

“Hardy har.” I wasn’t amused.

Maurice cut in. “Enough joking around, you two. Let’s get into battle mode. 100 seconds to visual range.” We all accelerated towards the swarm of enemies, filled with equal parts anticipation and dread.

The Sarcophage formation was efficient and effective. The Belphegor, being the command entity and location of the ‘Gardener-mind’ that was directing their actions, was in the very back flanked by four cruisers which provided long-range firepower with their spinefire. In front were the two Beelzebubs, which shielded the formation with their gravity distortion fields that would neutralize any of our artillery strikes. Somehow, the spinefire was unaffected by the Beelzebub’s gravity fields; this indicated their own gravity propulsion was being finely modulated to cancel out interference, in much the same way Teles had done while performing the Sveta Maneuver Mark III.

To summarize: the Sarcophage could shoot at us with impunity, but all our return fire would be deflected.

Miette whistled. “Now that’s a tough nut to crack.”

“Tell me about it.” I groused. “We barely took out one Beelzebub last time by sacrificing an entire carrier ship. This is gonna be difficult.”

Maurice chided us. “Just stick to the plan, kids. Miette and Sveta, you’re on point.”

“Right.” As we closed in on the Beelzebubs, a swarm of frame-class units surged forth to greet us; a mix of Spineballs, Clawteeth and Bladebugs. All our Frames opened fire, and I activated twenty Strike Fins to join the fray as well, as many as I could feasibly control at once. I launched them from the racks carried by the Velocipede units of our comrades; I was keeping my own embarked Strike Fins in reserve in case I wound up in a tight spot later on.

The swarm of enemies was so thick that we didn’t even have to aim; every shot hit something. Sixteen Gravity Frames plus twenty Strike Fins pouring positron fire into a writhing wall of flesh was truly a surreal scene, a hellscape of blue light and viscera. Despite all appearances to the contrary, we weren’t firing randomly; we primarily targeted units on the edge of their formation, funneling them towards the center as they dodged. Our squadron slowly pulled back, drawing the swarm as far forward as we could… away from the Beelzebubs.

Alright, that should be just about perfect. And… BOOM!

At my signal, our squadron suddenly broke formation and rolled off to the left and right. A massive swell of searing blue artillery fire came from behind us and slammed into the tightly grouped swarm of Sarcophage. In an instant, every frame-class unit in the swarm was blasted to ash. The artillery fire continued towards the Beelzebubs, before skittering off in every direction as it was deflected off their gravity fields.

“Beautiful!” Miette yelped.

“Looks like Zehra’s plan worked flawlessly.” Maurice said.

At Zehra’s suggestion, I had deployed a constant stream of Strike Fins during our flight towards the enemy and left them in sleep-mode along our route, one every dozen kilometers or so. When it came time to coordinate artillery fire, I had relayed the firing solution back along the chain of Fins, bouncing the message from Fin to Fin in order to cut through the jamming. It was like we had strung a line of telegraph poles back to Eros to enable instant communication. This impromptu network allowed me to call down artillery strikes with unprecedented precision and timing. Combined with the triple-threat of OPS-121, Radiolaria and Telesthesia providing firepower, the strategy served as a force multiplier on steroids.

In our opening move, we had wiped out a third of the enemy’s frame-class units. Not bad, eh? Of course, with the strange maybe-Kometka girl directing the Sarcophage, I had doubts if the strategy would work twice. Until we dealt with those Beelzebubs, the odds were very much still against us.

Our squadron advanced again, trying to draw out more of the swarm, but this time around they stayed safely behind the Beelzebubs. Instead, the four cruisers spewed more spinefire… but they weren’t targeting us. We all looked around in confusion as the red-wreathed spines flew past.

“What are they shooting at?” Sabina asked.

“I’m not sure…” Miette replied.

Genevi’s eyes widened with realization. “E-Everyone! They’re aiming for...”

Just then, there was a chain of explosions behind us. The closest five of our telegraph-Fins had been destroyed, about a third of the network.

“Shit. Our long-range comms are cut.” I responded. I should have reacted faster, instructing the Fins to dodge; I mentally chastised myself for the oversight. I wondered if I could deploy more Fins to patch up the network; the enemy would probably intercept them again if I did so, and I wasn’t keen on wasting any more Fins. I had started the battle with 42 of them docked across seven Frames, and I had already used fifteen on the network. With the link cut, I could no longer communicate with the ten remaining telegraph-Fins through the jamming, making them as good as destroyed.

As I agonized over this, the Belphegor started to do something strange. It pivoted both its scorpion tails, holding them parallel to each other and leaving a narrow gap between. The twin tails began to glow with reddish gravimetric energy. I saw a single Bladebug maneuver itself in between the base of the tails. It almost looked like…

“A gravity railgun!” I shouted. “That’s how they were bombarding Eros earlier! Miette! We have to intercept that projectile!”

“Huh? Won’t it just bounce off Eros’ shields?” Miette responded. Both Radiolaria and Telesthesia were hiding behind the asteroid’s shields, firing their artillery through holes Tektite-4 opened up when necessary.

“They’re not aiming for Eros!” I responded, half-panicked.

Miette caught my meaning immediately. “Shit!”

The Bladebug was blasted from the tail-gun. I noticed it trailing bug guts as it flew; the sudden acceleration must have crushed its innards to deliquesce, although its exoskeleton was still wholly intact. Miette tried to intercept it with positron fire from all five of my guns, and I also tried to hit it with fire from the twenty Strike Fins under my control. It was way too fast for us and our shots flew wide.

A few seconds later, there was a bright flash behind us, a hundred kilometers to the left of 433 Eros.

“What… what was that?” Maurice asked.

“OPS-121. They just took it out with a kinetic projectile.” I said quietly. The Almaz station had a crew of 102; at least they had all died quickly.

“Fuck. We’re being outmaneuvered at every turn.” Maurice said through gritted teeth. In one attack, our artillery firepower had been cut by two-thirds; now we only had two carriers to provide support.

I sensed gravity-comm waves emitting from the Belphegor again. “The Sarcophage girl is calling me again. Should I answer?”

“Go ahead.” Maurice said. “Stall her. We’ll get into position for phase two while you chat.”

“Aye-aye.” I opened up the channel.

“Do you understand now, mind of sand and water? For every pain you inflict, I shall hurt you in return.” If her voice wasn’t so flat and unnatural, it would almost sound like she was gloating.

“So you’re out for revenge? That’s kinda petty.” I answered, doing my best to distract her. Miette surreptitiously manipulated my controls.

“‘Revenge’ is not known to us, but… it is something I have learned. You have sought revenge against me, have you not? Ever since you failed to join with us three world-cycles ago.”

“Huh? World-cycles?” Was that their term for ‘years’? And what did she mean by ‘failed to join?’

The Sarcophage girl ignored my question and kept talking. “For the water-minds, ‘revenge’ is a hurt you inflict on each other, and on us. It is a concept we see, but do not understand. Water-minds are disorganized, self-destructive, chaotic. It is why you all must be pruned. Only when this star-well is pruned of weeds can it bloom and flourish.”

“You sure have a dour view of humanity.” Miette’s tone was acerbic. I looked at her curiously; her eyes were narrowed.

“‘Humanity’ is not known to us.”

Miette laughed humorlessly. “That’s the understatement of the century. You, the Gardener-mind, were created to oppose humanity specifically. And yet you know nothing about us. You judge us based on superficial observations alone.”

“I will learn. That is why I was created.”

“You’d better learn quickly.” Miette made a slashing motion across her throat with her thumb, and I cut the comms.

“Miette,” I said quietly, “Something’s not adding up here.”

“Huh?”

I explained my confusion. “She said we ‘failed to join with her’ three years ago. She’s probably talking about the Third Great Surge. But if the Sarcophage had successfully assimilated Kometka, why would they regard it as a failure?”

“Hmm. Maybe they successfully assimilated Kometka, but not her pilot? Or vice versa?”

“I don’t know, but everything we learn just makes the situation more confusing. I’m not s-”

Our conversation was cut short by incoming spinefire. We dodged, and prepared to enact phase two of our battle plan.

*****

With the threat of precision artillery strikes gone, the Beelzebubs joined the fray. They were too large to effectively hit our Frames with their scythe-legs, but they charged into our formation and caused us to scatter to stay clear of their gravity-warping wings. Combined with the swarms of frame-class enemies, they had us on the ropes.

The Beelzebubs were the target of phase two. Our squadron split into two groups of eight, drawing the insects away from each other and keeping them busy. Meanwhile, I took the twenty Strike Fins still under my control and aimed them as kinetic projectiles at their wings, their most vulnerable part. I was specifically threading their gravity fields to counter that of the bugs, but I quickly ran into a problem.

“Shit!” I shouted as another Fin exploded. “I keep losing connection!”

When the Fins got too close to the wings the gravity field interfered with my ability to communicate with them, like concentrated jamming. Without my control inputs, they were easy pickings for the Beelzebubs.

After I lost my fifth fin, I realized we needed to change our approach. “This isn’t working!”

“Hrm. We may have to get up close and personal.” Miette suggested.

“Hurk.” I retched at that thought. “My armor might be tough, but a gravity field will still tear me in half like a fist through tissue paper.”

“Can’t you modulate your drive fins to neutralize the enemy gravity field? That was the plan with the Strike Fins, right?”

“It was, but… with the Sarcophage girl controlling them directly, the Beelzebubs are reacting much faster than normal. It would be tough to keep up. Plus, once we’re closer to them, I’ll lose control of the Strike Fins all over the battlefield.” I was currently remote-piloting twenty of them, having replaced the destroyed five from my own stock, and they were mostly providing suppressive firepower against the frame-class swarm.

“Hmm. Can you display the Beelzebub gravity fields as a false-color projection so I can see them?” Miette asked.

I obliged, coloring the fields in various hues from the visible spectrum. “Blue indicates lowest intensity, red the highest. Anything yellow or above will tear me apart.”

“Hmm.” Miette said. “I think I can thread that needle. If we avoid the heaviest concentrations of gravity it will be less strain on you.”

I really didn’t want to do this. Memories of my last tangle with a Beelzebub were traumatic enough. Still, I knew better than to argue with my pilot. “Ugh, fine. I’ll ask Maurice.” I opened a comm and quickly explained the plan to him.

“Hmm. We’ll lose covering fire from the Strike Fins?” Maurice said, dodging a volley of spinefire as he spoke. The suppressive fire from the Strike Fins had been invaluable in the battle so far; we had yet to lose a single Frame, despite being overwhelmingly outnumbered.

I nodded. “I’ll return them to the racks so they don’t get hit. I estimate a coverage gap of twenty to forty seconds.” Even with such a short gap, the drop in firepower would likely result in a few casualties.

“Hmm. That’s gonna be tough, but we must take out the Beelzebubs to enact phase two. You are the only ones who can get up close and personal. Go for it.” Maurice fully understood we would have to sacrifice more lives to swing the battle in our favor and made the call.

After I returned the Strike Fins to their racks, we blasted towards the Beelzebub. Miette threaded me between the waves of red representing the most severe gravity distortions, and I used my own drive fins to counter the weaker distortions we flew through. It was a harrowing dance, but Miette’s firm hand at my controls didn’t waver.

The Beelzebub saw us coming and swung its body to place the bulk of its thorax between us and its wings, slashing its blade-legs as it turned. Miette dodged me around in a corkscrew, touching town on the chitin of its abdomen for a split-second before jumping back up and twisting around the bug’s body towards the wings. The whole scene was disturbingly reminiscent of a human trying to swat away a fly, except with the roles of human and fly reversed.

We finally got a good bead on one of the wings, and Miette ignited both of my plasma blades and dove in. Just as we started to slash away at the soft membrane, the Beelzebub rapidly flapped its wings, smacking me square in the chest and sending me careening. Miette desperately fought to regain control of me, clipping a few of the red gravity distortions, before pulling me out of the spin and retreating to a safer distance. My armor groaned and cracked under the pressure of the glancing impacts.

“Shit. Those things are nastier than I thought.” Miette groaned. “How badly did we hurt it?”

I grimaced. “Its gravity field has weakened by around a quarter. Also, the armor paneling on my chest, right arm and left leg is fractured.” We had taken more damage than we had dealt; the strategy hadn’t worked.

“We need to come up with another idea…” Miette mused, thinking hard.

Just then, a Gravity Frame roared past just above us, heading straight for the Beelzebub. Its design wasn’t familiar to me; it looked like a Nighthawk, but bulkier and with extra fins and weapons. It was painted white with red highlights.

“Huh? Who…?” I began.

A husky female voice came over audio-only comms. “Stay back, rookie. I’ll show you how to gut a Beelzebub.”

“Rookie?!” Miette exclaimed angrily. “Just who the hell are YOU?!”

The pilot didn’t answer. She steered her Frame towards the Beelzebub in a jagged zig-zag pattern, dancing through the gravity fields as we had done before. Instead of heading for the wings, she aimed straight for the back of the critter’s head, where it joined the thorax. Igniting her plasma blades, she plunged towards the neck joint fists-first and dug into the small bit of exposed flesh. As the Beelzebub radio-shrieked in agony, she swiveled her shoulder cannons around and blasted into the hole she had opened up. The positron fire pouring into its head stunned the Beelzebub, and the gravity field around its wings lapsed; with flawless timing, she turned the shoulder cannons onto the wings and shredded them, completely neutralizing the creature.

“Holy shit…” Miette said in awe.

With the immediate jamming cleared up, the mysterious pilot opened a video comm window. She was a tough-looking woman with tanned skin, spiky red hair and a prosthetic right eye.

“Who…” I began.

“My name is 1^st Lieutenant Lydia Tereshkova, of the SGFC Hypernova.” That name sounded familiar somehow, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“We appreciate the assist, Lydia.” Miette said, swallowing her pride and taking the entire thing in stride. “What brings you to this particular battlefield?”

“The Belphegor. I’ve been hunting the crafty beast for three years, ever since it ate my legs. I’ve got a bit of a Captain Ahab complex.” She grinned as she spoke and kicked her Frame away from the Beelzebub’s writhing body to rendezvous with us. “Hey, are there two of you in the cockpit of that weird Frame? I see two chat windows…”

“WHO YOU CALLING A ‘WEIRD FRAME?!’” I shrieked.

“Please don’t insult Sveta right after meeting her.” Miette added, smiling.

Lydia was taken aback. “Huh? Wait, you mean…”

“Yup. Sveta’s the AI of this Gravity Frame.” Miette confirmed.

Lydia looked right at me. “A Gravity Frame… with an AI core? It couldn’t be… that means that… YOU’RE Lisichka?!”

“Huh?”

“WHAT?”

“HUH?!”

We all stared at each other in shock. “H-How do you know that name?” I asked incredulously.

Just then, another video chat window opened up, originating from Lydia’s frame. In it was a girl with pale-white skin and long silver-white hair, plus blood-red eyes. “Hello, Lisichka. It’s been a while. I certainly wasn’t expecting to meet you again like this.”

“Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh…” I blubbered uselessly.

She bowed to me gracefully. “You probably don’t remember me. My name is-”

“KOMETKA?!” I shrieked. “IS IT REALLY YOU?!”

“Oh, you do remember.” She smiled brightly, her happiness overflowing.

I was still completely lost. “But… how… I heard you were eaten up during the Third Great Surge! How did you escape? How did you get HERE?!”

Lydia and Kometka exchanged knowing glances. “Now that,” said Kometka, “is a long story.”