Yourst Truly Part 8

[Dartz]

The Real beginning of Part 8. Minor NSFW language

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Run. Just fucking Run!

I ran cradling my shattered arm, trying to ignore the pain. It was beyond agony. It was a fire burning along along my arm and through the core of my body. Hardware errors sparked through my mind, letting me know just how bad I was. My jacket was soaked with artificial blood from where the twisted bracings in my shoulder had burst out of the skin.

I’d be dead inside an hour if I didn’t get help. I just focused on getting one foot in front of the other, and getting as far away from the church as possible. The rain was driving down. into my face, soaking me through to the skin.

I was already shivering, and it wasn’t from the cold. I was burning hot inside, shooting pains still running through me. A quick glance behind me told me nobody was following me. I ducked into a side alley ahead, hoping to hide somewhere where I wouldn’t be found by anyone I didn’t want to find me.

I could call Sylia, let her know where I was and how badly things had blown up in my face, and figure a way out of this.

A figure stepped out of the darkness, a slash of light playing across blue-hued metal. Red flashes of colour played across what I quickly recognised. The words ‘Knight Sabers’ sparked in the light thrown from a flickering overhead lamp.

Priss!

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fuck.” The stress just dissolved out of my body.

The hardsuit raised its gun arm.

i blinked. “What?”

I had just enough time to realise what really was inside that hardsuit and how totally fucked I was before it fired.

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Lady 633 Loomed in the late morning sun. It was nearly noon but the shadow cast by the building still swallowed me up in its cooling embrace. Inviting smells of hot bread and cake were piped down to street level from the café above. The smell stabbed like a knife right into the depths of my stomach

But a high-class café would’ve been asking a bit too much of my bank account. A coffee and a croissant cost more than my daily budget for food.

I was grabbing my usual share of attention from the early-afternoon shoppers on the street. Body-hugging leathers would do that, even without the added help from pheromones that told the entire world that my ass was demanding to be tapped. It was enough to make me wary of people walking behind.

The Colt coolly reminded me of it’s presence, whispering temptations in my ear right as some old man took a long drooling look at my ass. The woman following him found herself questioning her sexuality as I caught a noseful of surprised lust being chased by overstrong lavender perfume and freshly baked cake from up above.

It faded into the daily background of olfactory noise along with all the rest.

Leathers needed to be tight to provide the best protection in a crash, and layered kangaroo hide could still beat most fabrics for abrasion resistance. They were also much harder to take off, especially without my cooperation.

And they really showed off my builder’s skill.

I stretched myself as I entered, leaving a young dark-haired woman browsing through the bra’s very confused about her sexuality. Hot passion rushed up inside her, chased by the sharp scent of embarrassment and surprise. Human’s were so amusing.

Mackie drowned her out in a tsunami of teenage hormones.

His mind just ran smack into a brick wall,his mouth dropping wide open.

“Meg....”

“Don’t trip over your tongue.”

Being with my own kind was having an effect already. I was not human, and what better way to prove it to myself.

“Sis....” His eyes never once made it to my face. “She’s in the pit”

“Thanks,”

I backed off on the pheromones to let him breath. Careful not to get too carried away Meg... I was still giggling inside with a big fat idiot-smirk crawling across my face as I walked to the lift in the back room.

I was free. I was alive. Anri was alive. So was Sylvie. And Sylia probably wanted to talk to me about the Largo cannon.

Largo dies. We live. Everyone happy. If I had more money. I’d even consider picking up something spiecier for tonight from the shop. That thought, mixed with the promise of another busy night kept me smiling when the doors opened in the pit.

I breezed by the motoroids, parked in their usual places. The usual smells of lubricating oil and water dispersant comforted. Everything was back in it’s place. There was none of dry ozone and ratshit of the Panty Drawer. This was the Knight Sabers’ home.

Sylia was waiting, dressed in one of her usual revealing-but-classy-as -all-hell outfits. The Largo cannon had been meticulously dismantled

“Morning’” I greeted.

“Oh, Meg. Morning.”

Nothing at all seemed wrong.

“I was speaking with Nene yesterday,” she said calmly.

“Oh?”

I dug down through my recollections, trying to remember if that’d been shown on screen.

“The AD Police investigation is making progress. McNichol has a theory.” She paused for a second, to let me assimilate that. But I already knew what his theory was. Didn’t he tell me to my face? “You haven’t met them yet, have you?”

And there was the question I’d been dreading. Reading Sylia was like reading Ulysses. Impenetrably obfuscated at the best of times. And having grown used to being able to read people at a sniff, almost impossible for me.

It was time to make a decision. I quenched any fears or apprehension I had. I was certain this was right.

“No. Not yet,”

Her expression went flat as Nene’s chest

“Nene told me,” she said, her voice cooling.

Told her what? I wondered, despite knowing the sickening answer. Every muscle in my body went rigid.

“She said stopped you riding without a helmet. You told her your passenger’s name was Anri Stearman. And then she complained about how everyone was getting beautiful friends except her.”

Goddammit Nene.

I was left mentally dangling like the loose sheet on the washing line.

Sylia already knew.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t obviously annoyed. There was no accusation. It was just a simple question with a complex answer. It was completely disarming. It left me standing there, trying to catch up.

This was a bad idea. Doing this without telling Sylia was a bad idea. She was so much smarter than me. She was....

She didn’t own me. As much as I owed Sylia a lot, I wasn’t her property.

I was right. I was doing right. I took a breath.

“Sylvie came to me and asked for my help. She asked for my help personally. “

“But you could have told me.”

As usual, she answered with the calm certainty that made me wonder if she hadn’t planned this whole conversation out. Nothing I said ever came as a surprise to her...

I had to think. I had to scramble to keep up and keep my own momentum.

“And if I told you. I would have to explain why she spoke to me. Which would mean I would have to explain what I was to the other Sabers. Which would mean I would have to explain what Sylvie was to Priss.” The more I said, the more momentum I built up, I was freight-training forward, almost out of control, propelled by dead-certainty that I will do this, with or without Sylia.

I wanted to see them have every opportunity I was given. I wanted to see them live and be happy and free. I wanted to do that mind...thing... with Anri again. I wanted them to be more than sex-toys, I wanted them to be like me.

“I can’t betray her like that. You won’t give away my secret without my permission, I won’t give away hers.”

Sylia, for one brief moment, seemed genuinely lost for words. I could feel myself burn with desire. After last night, there was no going back.

Her brown eyes fixed me with a gaze as cold and hard as granite.

“Meg, do you trust us?”

“Yes.... of course.”

“Do you really?” She pushed. “I think it’s time to ask. Do you want to keep this a secret from the others, or do you still want to be a Knight Saber?”

“I....”

I had nowhere to go.

She was bluffing. She was deadly serious, but she couldn’t really expect me to want to leave the Knight Sabers?

She was doing it again.

Offering me a false choice, to make me choose what she wanted,while still feeling likeit was what I’d wanted all along. A hot flash of anger rushed up through me. How dare she! I bit hard back, not wanting to lose my temper. I’m not Priss... I don’t get that luxury. I wanted to call her bluff. I wanted

But I couldn’t go off half-cocked and ruin my life.

I looked Sylia right in the eye.

“I need to think about that.”

She actually blinked.

“If you take too long, events may make decision for you.”

“You wouldn’t...” I hissed

“No. I wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t ever trust me again if I did. But Meg, I won’t let it put your own life, or the lives of the others at risk.”

If she found me bleeding to death on the ground, she’d tell everything to save my life. I guess that means I’ll have to try not to end up bleeding to death on the ground.

I forced a rueful grin. “Would I make it to the door if I chose to leave?”

She nodded. “You would.”

And I knew she meant it. I could turn on my heel right then and there, stroll out the door and cash out of the group.

“I appreciate that.... I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Maybe that’s what she wanted. Maybe she knew I’d figured her method out. Maybe it was just another subtle move to bring me back to her side and her ideas.

Dealing with genii was hard. Having all the cybernetics and computers and reaction times in the world didn’t change the simple fact that Sylia was fucking smarter than me, in the same way I was smarter than a doll-faced waitress.

I decided to change the subject.

“I had a plan ready and everything.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow,

“Simple really. I was going to disable J1, remove the neutron bomb from the DD and throw it in the bay. Then me and Sylvie’d get together and grab the data-disk from the GPCC. Once they were safe, I’d offer the DD to you in exchange for two sets of ID papers for Sylvie and Anri. Once they have the papers, they’ve a better shot at getting steady work or a decent place to stay.”

“It lacks detail,” she said, clearly mulling it over. “Like how to get in to the GPCC for one thing.”

“I’m not a detailed sort of person. But that’s already been handled.”

“How?”

“That’s the other thing.” The mere thought that she had no idea where I was going with this made me smirk inside with devious pride. “I’ve got a lead on Largo.”

Sylia’s expression went cold once more. And I knew I’d blindsided her with it.

“How?”

“He’s the one who helped them escape. He’s the one backing them. And I think he will arrange things at the GPCC so that we can make our raid.”

“Think?” She pushed. Her eyes blazed with a deadly seriousness.

“I’m almost certain.”

“And What does he want in exchange?”

“A file on the movements of Defence Minister Callahan. And that file has to go from my hands, to his, somehow.”

“And when it does....”

“Bang.” I finished with a big, fat grin on my face. The largo-cannon sat idle on the workbench behind her.

“I think,” she said, calmly “Two sets of identity papers would be a cheap price to pay, for a clean shot at Largo. Tonight?”

Bingo! I shook my head. “Tomorrow at the earliest. I still have work to do with the DD. And I don’t want to tip Largo off that I’m working for you.”

“So that’s your decision then?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Not yet. I’ll let you know tomorrow, like I said.”

“Tomorrow. I hope you make the right decision.”

“So do I,” I sighed.

I still had no fucking idea which one it was.

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And still feels like it was forced to finish. But the fic's not dead.... even if I can't get access to the free website I set up for it anymore