She felt the rough sand against her arm first, burning like embers digging into bloody fingers and cracked nails, then the sting of shallow cuts opened alongside her eyes

She realised where she was and tried to slam them shut, wishing to drift over to a better dreamscape.

But that wasn’t how it went.

She became more aware of her surroundings; tightly dug in under the rusty hull of a scorched vehicle, breaths only coming in short, pained bursts. Grit dug its way into her eyes with each panicked breath, the desert greedily wicking away her tears.

From her painful shade, a great inferno eclipsed the sunset, staining the landscape with the savage hues of blood and fire.

A painfully familiar scene.

She tried to scramble out, to escape from under the truck and run towards the fire.

But that wasn’t how it went.

The girl was stuck on the ground, frozen by fear and obedience.

Unable to stop it, her eyes drifted to the silhouettes in front of the flaming wreck. They seemed almost peaceful, simply standing there side-by-side. One had given up their pleading gestures, now just standing there silently, resigned to what came next.

The noise started.

A small, faint hum at first, not unlike an insect. Terror clawed down the girl's spine.

She tried to shuffle back out from under the vehicle, tried to blind herself on the jagged sand, deafen herself with her own screams. Tried to do anything to avoid reality.

But that wasn’t how it went.

The humming grew, from a small buzz, to a whining screech. It resonated through her, running cold razors across her bones and drilling into the soft tissue of her ears.

Two dark shapes flew overhead in a blur. Their roaring flight shuddered the ground, the concussive wake twisting the girls' innards and dulling her senses.

The pair flew upwards over the wreckage and banked, circling around the scene like carrion birds. Each lap spiralled them closer and closer to the standing shadows.

They paused in a hover several over the pair. Their wings vibrated in the air, burning a trail behind them and singing out the resonant whine. Long legs, slender and sharp, hung in the air below them while their tails swung gently in the wake of their wings, their bladed tips glinting in the dusklight.

Peering through the acrid smoke between the floating figures was a great eye set like a jewel within its low-orbit ring. The lens of something great and horrible, mighty enough to shape the world, yet powerless to save a single person. Its crystal surface shimmered while the structure around it wept fiery tears upon the surface.

To the girl, it seemed to lower its gaze for a moment, challenging her to make a last effort, to confront the monsters and save Her. She could’ve sworn she felt her arms and legs start to make the movements this time, that they obeyed and let her fight against fate.

But that wasn’t how it went.

Nothing ever changed how it went.

No matter how many dozens of times she’d relive the scene.

Nothing changes.

A bladed tail whipped out.

Ariel’s head fell from her body.

---

“NO!” The woman screamed, now awake in the seat of the same vehicle she’d hidden under.

“Soune.” A digital voice crackled out.

The screeching was still in her ears, drowning out the voice. Her heart was beating against the walls of her chest achingly hard. She clawed at her scarf, sure she was choking.

“Soune.” It repeated, louder. The speaker cracked to its maximum, breaking through the deafening memory.

“Listen.”

The static blare blew away her daze. She scoffed down gulps of air while wiping sweat and tears from her eyes. Damp strands of silver-white hair clung to the side of her face. Instinctually, she wrapped her hand around the body of a shortened, lever-action rifle beside her seat. She focused on feeling the patterns of the wood grain, the dips and scratches in the metal.

It was real. She was real. Present and safe.

“I’m awake, I'm awake.” She repeated to herself more than in response. Her eyes drifted over to the passenger seat where an electronic array sat. A mess of sensors, boards and wires with a black metal box in the centre. Cables snaked out and connected it with the vehicle, allowing it crackled speech through the speakers.

“Same dream?” It questioned, lenses whirring and narrowing at her.

“What do you think? Could’ve woken me up a bit earlier.” Soune wiped down her face again and glared at the assembly.

“I attempted to, multiple times.” If a monotone stereo voice could sound indignant, it managed to and was pointedly ignored.

As her heartbeat ceased drumming her ears, she became aware of the shrill beeping in the vehicle.

“Cut that out.” She growled while digging around her scattered belongings for water. The machine waited until the canteen was at her lips.

“It’s not me. Radio.” Soune choked on the mouthful of water, accompanied by a swear as she scrambled to grab the receiver.

“Yes?” She croaked out.

“Finally.” A woman’s voice crackled, tense with restraint. “Take your time, much?”

“Is that her? Where the hell has she been! If this fails because of her I’ll-” Another, much more openly annoyed voice was picked up by the microphone. It faded away as the first voice cut back in, the receiver moved away from the raging.

“Cutting it close don’t you think? Target is eight, no, seven klicks from you.” The voice was tight and anxious now.

“Yeah sorry, had to deal with some technical faults.” Soune lied.

“No you di-” She quickly yanked the plug connecting the machine to the vehicle's speakers, and pointedly ignored the camera sensors narrowing at her.

“Oh, Rappy acting up again? The setups fine, right?”

“Don’t call him that, just Rhapsody, and yes the charges are fine and ready whenever.” She bit her lip hoping the bluff was convincing enough.

“If you say so… We’re all ready so, up to you Silver.” The woman teased at the end, followed by a faint chuckle upon hearing the annoyed click in response to the nickname. “On your mark.” The receiver clicked off.

Soune hurriedly returned it and began scrambling through the back seats again, another beeping began. With a grunt she snapped back around to the front, clenching the radio receiver.

“What now?” She barked, only getting a dead tone in response. “What’s wrong?” Still dead, then she noticed the beeping continued from beside her. “Oh for-” She slammed the receiver down again, twisting to view the messy assembly. It continued beeping, the red light tauntingly synced with the noise. Soune huffed and plugged the audio cable back in, the screech of static made her recoil.

“What’s your damned problem?” Soune groused at the machine. The static warbled and refined back to its artificial voice.

“Bored. Detonator in this footwell.” It replied. Soune grunted a reluctant thanks after digging the device out from under a carpet of cables. She flicked a switch on the detonator, three of four lights flickered active on its face, she started looking around again. “Scope in the glovebox.” Rhapsody added.

“Just telling me both up front would’ve been more convenient.” Soune chided as she retrieved the rifle scope, it was cracked and misaligned, useless for its original purpose but functional enough to survey. She was leaning over the seat now, careful not to unplug or disrupt anything vital to her passenger while she looked out the window.

They were in a barren, rocky basin, maddeningly monotone with its dappled ocean of dull blues and greys, decorated only by limestone spires stippling the ground like thorns.

Most of the spires loomed over her, between three and five metres tall, some barely spiked through the shale, few others were slender monoliths that threatened the sky itself. Breaking up the spires were low, flaky hills - the remains of what was once the greatest of the limestone structures, toppled by time.

A sterile jungle of spikes and shale, a hateful place that refused the living.

However, beyond the point where the hills and spires had turned to bumps and pins; across the chasmic quarry that bordered the basin and a harsh desert past that, the great Priloca1 Citadel brushed its peaks against the low clouds.

Soune allowed her gaze to drift to its blurry glimmer and risked a small smile, its jewellike beauty enticing her to continue her goal - to live in the luxury of its towers and the safety of its walls.

The sight was spoiled by a glimpse of the orbital ring Durendel2 peering at her through a gap in the cloud cover. Her expression and stare snapped back, focusing on the work at hand and ignoring the jump in her chest.

About a hundred metres away a two-lane road had been roughly carved out of the loose ground, straight through the flattest part of the area, though flanked by dense fields of the spires.

It’d taken them two days of scouting the barren road to find a suitable ambush point, eventually opting to use one of the explosives to topple one of the larger spires, the debris of which now hid her parallel to the road.

It wasn’t a subtle hide, and the assumption they’d only notice her after entering the kill zone was a stretch, but after two days of searching tempers were high and fuses were short when discussion started. At the memory of the screaming match, she looked at a tight group of spires opposite her position.

Soune could imagine their behaviour clearly, having grown used to working with and around them for the last few years.

Kirche, who had contacted her on the radio, would be peering through a gap in the rocks, a hunter smiling in wait. Tonio, who had snapped in the background, would be struggling to stay hidden, fighting an anxious need to pace. Lastly, Raz would be laying down, wondering if they could convince the others they slept through the explosions to skip the dangerous part.

They didn’t exactly make an exceptional team of operatives.

The radio crackled to life.

“Almost there, Silver.” Kirche hissed. Soune didn’t respond, busy craning her neck out to watch the incoming convoy.

“Let me see.” Rhapsody demanded.

“Why? Can’t imagine you finding some dusty explosives entertaining.”

“I want to test my timing. I can call it.”

“Your timing is fine, and I don’t need your help, I know when to pop them.”

“Will you be as precise as a perfect machine's calculations?” That gave Soune pause, she was still a bit drowsy, and could hardly afford to make mistakes.

“...Fine.” She relented, pulling the sensor array away from the rest of the electronics and holding it out of the window. “All good?”

“Further, eight and a half centimetres.” The speakers croaked. Soune grunted and leant her arm further out. “...Close enough.”

“The delay on the detonators about two and a half seconds, give it three to be safe.” She ordered, bracing an arm on the window to steady herself. “Blow out security and the decoy, pincer the others, don’t give them a chance to cut and run. Mark ‘em Sec-One and Six, Decoy-Three, Cargo-Two, Four, Five.” Parroting the orders that had been drilled into her several times in the build up to today.

“Confirmed.”

The cargo company that they were targeting had a rotation on convoy layouts, rotations that were easy enough for their contractor to buy a schedule on. This convoy was on their most common and simple setup.

Security at positions one and six, a decoy in three, cargo in the rest. The layout was meant to optimise losses, having the highest value cargo in vehicle two and protocol to protect it at the costs of four and five. They’d taken to calling the method “Lizard Tailing.”

The rotations were useful to stop precision hijacks aiming for the single value target, while the willingness to give up a decoy or lower value cargo avoided messy conflicts with scavenger gangs looking for an easy payday.

It didn’t work as well on the “all-or-nothing” approach.

There were worse plans to be a part of, she supposed. Exploiting the optimised wastefulness of corporations wasn’t the most amoral work she’d been given.

“Getting close, Rhap, you see the markers behind the rocks?”

“Confirmed.”

Soune gripped the detonator tight, nervously running a thumb over the switch. She looked down at Rhapsody’s portable setup. It wasn’t an inspiring sight. Exposed wires and ports, mismatched and converted cables, the tangled mess that connected it all to the vehicles systems. A sudden wave of doubt about her decision to leave the call to him washed through her.

“Get ready.” The speakers crackled.

Too late to change her mind now.

“Ready.” Soune confirmed, disengaging the safety of the detonator.

A painfully slow few moments followed as she trailed the convoy. They were solid, tough transport vehicles, descendants of her rusty Lightfoot3. She clicked her tongue, a damned shame that she couldn’t keep one for herself.

They were damned fast too, clearing eighty k’s even on rough terrain, trepidation built in her throat from the machine’s silence.

“Rhap?”

“Wait.” The first mover blew past the marker she’d set up, then the second’s front half had cleared it, Soune’s thumb trembled on the switch, ready to press it herself when-

“Now!” The speakers cracked out loud and sharp, shocking Soune into action.

The couple seconds of delay felt like minutes, that small lapse of heavy time where thoughts of failure wracked her. They were shaken away by the shuddering explosives and calamitous screeching of metal. Even the hundred-odd metres out, slivers of brittle rock rained down on Soune and her vehicle.

“Not bad for -ow- messing with some old grenades, huh?” Soune smirked at her handiwork, rubbing where a pebble had clipped the back of her head.

“...Something’s wrong.” Rhapsody crackled.

“What?” Soune looked back at the scene, her smirk dropping with the dust cloud. The front half of the convoy was already speeding by, the back half halted by the overturned body of Cargo-Four. Sec-Six was dug into the ground - the explosion having at least crippled its Mass-Manipulator drive4.

Soune fell back into the vehicle, snarling into the sensor array.

“Perfect machine calculations?”

“Close enough.” The speakers noted, with monotonous nonchalance. She dropped the machine into the footwell while scrambling back to her seat.

The radio was already beeping, a quick button press and Soune was met with Kirche’s voice again, with Tonio’s frantic ramblings as a backing tone.

“What the fuck was that?” Her normally smooth, light voice barked.

“Interference from their convoy messed with the signal.” Soune grimaced, hoping her rapidly formed lie would pass for now. She set the rifle over her lap and patted the pockets of her coat.

“Whatever, we’ll make do. Going in to take Sec’ out before they start trouble. Move down to support.” Kirche didn’t close the radio connection, leaving her snapping at the other two barely audible.

Soune smirked, the operation not being a complete failure as much a relief as the ammo in her pocket. The expression and mood rapidly dropped as what Kirche said clicked.

The security truck was stuck, but whatever it was carrying wasn't out yet. The explosion should’ve rocked the engine and cab, but it missed the rear entirely. Guards or drones, whatever security they had should’ve already been out and swarming the area.

“Rhap, start moving us.” She sternly commanded, ripping open the cardboard.

“Can’t see.” He argued.

“Just start the damn thing up, hurry!” Panic raised her voice, matching the vehicle whining into life.

She shook the loose ammo out into her hand, cursing at the sight of them. Five rifle rounds, three looked fairly intact and usable, the fourth with a dull grey steel case instead of clean brass, and the fifth so tarnished and beaten the bullet was visibly misaligned. She picked up the round and wiggled the loose bullet.

“Cheapskate k’ntvas!” She cursed, dropping it into a pocket.

The vehicle shuddered and rose slightly as the Mass-Manipulator snapped into life, signalling that the Lightfoot was ready to drive. In the same moment, voices echoed through the radio.

“What the hell? Where’s it going!” Tonio bellowed. Sec-Six was moving, slow without its MMD but moving. It crawled past the side of Cargo-Five and careened around Four, gouging the rock curb before continuing on the road.

Soune saw the black jacket and red hair of Kirche between the remaining vehicles, Raz’ ratty brown cloak and dusty blond hair were crouched at the rear doors of Cargo-Four, disengaging electric locks. Tonio was bewildered, armoured arms held out as he watched the security truck flee.

“Leave it, we’ve got Cargo-Five now free now, go check it out. Raz how’s the lock on four?” Whatever reply Kirche got from the soft-spoken Raz was inaudible. “Keep at it.”

Heavy, dull pangs carried through the static. Faster and faster with each hit.

“The fuck is? Augh!” Something - somethings - were breaking out of the upright vehicle. A pack of slender four-legged creatures leaped out, rushing to surround Tonio.

Soune pressed hard on the pedal, swinging the control wheel as she did. Her vehicle kept level on the unstable ground by the electronic alterations of her passenger.

“There, just keep us straight Rhap.” Soune took her hands off the wheel and deftly loaded the remaining four rounds into the weapon, starting with the steel cased one and hoping she wouldn’t have to fire it for the weapon’s sake.

She looked up in time for her foot to slam the brake and hands to pull her coat over before they collided with the sideways cab of vehicle four. It wasn’t enough.

The Lightfoot defied its name and slammed against the other machine, throwing the unbelted Soune against the wheel, her reinforced coat diffusing the impact through composite layers.

Her lungs barked out from the impact, winding her. The shock of lost breath passed her quickly, the pain lingering while she forced down steady breaths.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you?” She wheezed out, patting her chest to test for fractures, no pain spikes was a good sign.

“Can’t. See.” Rhapsody reminded her, and received a firm knock to the core of his assembly in response.

Soune shouldered open her door and half rolled, half fell, onto the shale. She used her rifle to steady herself upwards, racking the lever when she was on her feet. Her vehicle and Cargo-Four made a barrier between herself and the others.

She leaned back against her Lightfoot, peering over the windshield to see Kirche and Tonio fighting off a half dozen, round-headed and grey-skinned quadrupeds. Raz was worryingly nowhere to be seen.

One of the beasts was latched onto Tonio's leg, trying to pull him down to the ground for the others to maul him. Tonio ignored his attacker while grappling another by the neck, denting the side of Cargo-Five with its head.

Kirche meanwhile was dancing around the snapping jaws and lashing claws with challenged delight, fencing back the lunging creatures with a broad blade. She left each one with a steaming gash as reward for their failed attacks, taunting the ones on her further away from Tonio.

The bladework reminded Soune to grab her own melee weapon, turning back to open the backseat doors of the Lightfoot. A sheathed bayonet was waiting on the seat.

As soon as she grabbed the weapon a metallic thud rocked the vehicle, dents appeared through the roofing. Soune backstepped, swinging the bayonet’s sheath off as she did. A mass of grey flesh flew over her head, skidding to a halt on the loose ground.

She pivoted on a booted heel; scarf, coattails and hair swinging from the momentum. With the speed that came from years of practice had turned to instinctual reaction, she raised the rifle and found the beast’s centre in a smooth motion. The weapon bucked and snapped.

Three shots left.

The pallid skin of the monster flowered out with a splash of dark viscera, stippled with bone fragments. Unphased by the wound, it took a step towards her, hunching low and loosing a wet, warbling hiss through a lipless sneer. It hesitated on its second step, paused by her huffed laugh and a lowered weapon.

“Think you’re tough cos’ you can take a bullet, huh? How about a blade, or a bashing?” Soune challenged with a wicked smirk, words matched to the scratching and clacking of gunmetal.

With bayonet fixed and round chambered, Soune took a step forward.

“Let’s limit test, ‘ay mongrel?”

---

1 Priloca - Formally the Citadel Of The Prima Locas Federation, the largest supercity and; capital territory of the planet. The term Priloca originally began as slang but has become widespread in its use for both the government body and the Citadel itself.

2 Durendel - Similarly to Priloca, the name Durendel is dual-use, referring to both the planet and the Orbital Ring around it.

To most people on the surface, the term refers to their planet and they will refer to the station as just "The Ring", "The Collar" or more formally "Durendel Station". The technicality of what was named first and is the original “Durendel” is a subject of heated debate, spurned on by the name being visible on the inside of the Ring.

What is undeniable about the Ring is its efficacy as a weapons platform, a fact that has been twice-proven in the modern age by the “Scourings”.

3 Lightfoot - A light, consumer grade cargo vehicle equipped with minimal Mass-Manipulation technology. Though limited in its mass displacement capacity and modest storage cab, it was a popular choice for industrial freelancers through the development ages for its ease of use and affordability.

4 Mass-Manipulation Drives - more accurately called Gravity Offset Fields, refers to a range of Fold manipulation technology exclusively made by Seabook Manufacturing Co. . It creates a contained area or current of semi-folded space, effectively reducing the weight of contained or connected objects.

Advanced versions of the technology are able to fine-tune this effect, and efforts have been made to see if the inverse effect is possible.