What If
“I need your signature...” and, as she stoops to pull something from her tool satchel, she does a little jiggle, “are getting ready for Carnival yet?” I briefly wonder, why do petite fems look so well formed? Maken fems are towering, muscled behemoths...
My Imp flashes a warning: <Threat!> and suggests <Defang the Snake>. My instincts say that move is a bit excessive. No surprise, Imp is a military grade absent-mind.
The Kitsune smoothly crouches and turns, raising her weapon, a machine pistol; I kick it from her grip. She rolls away but comes up with karatand spikes blossoming from her clenched fists and launches herself at me. Disturbingly silent; a furry fury.
I slap her neatly aside – a single, almost gentle, smack around her left ear. She hits the wall as pain shoots up my arm.
Freya, my Shoryu, warns <she's falling.> Always focused on the right actions.
I reply <little folk playing at big folk tag.>
Despite the pain in my hand, I catch the Kitsune by her baggy jumpsuit.
<like a sack of fluff – glad I went easy.>
Freya <she’s out cold.>
I lower the unconscious Kitsune, still breathing, to the floor and snap-tie her; wrists and ankles.
The doubting starts as I work:
<what if she wasn’t going to fire>;
Freya <what? She was going to force you to make a pornsy? You were liking her Van Dyke way too much – it’s Where it tickles – stop thinking with your tail.>
<what if the pistol wasn’t hers, “didn’t expect to find that in there!”>;
Freya <she went straight to it, pulled it out by the grip, and was raising it.>
<what if she had pulled the trigger>;
Freya <it was a Hueza Pocket Rock-it; she pulls that trigger, your armour might save you but, Word knows how many rounds miss you, carve up half the block - dozens wounded - possibly Children!>
Imp <Threat!>
My door shunts open. A vaguely puzzled looking Sén steps out, readying a Geom. As her sword snaps open, my forearm slams into her face – a reflexive tonfa move – her head snaps back, blood spraying from her nose. Her Geom twirls back into my unit as another Sén strikes my retreating arm with her own Geom. It doesn’t get by my armour but it hurts.
She steps out over her felled team-mate.
Between her and the mess behind me; the Kitsune, her bag and machine pistol, I don't have much room for fancy footwork.
She feints low with her sword, switching to a cut at my exposed face. I slap aside her cut, grapple her arm. Sting of the Butterfly. Her brief, futile attempt to break free ends as I slam her into the wall then head-butt her, twice.
I quickly snap-tie both Sén then drag all three into my unit, check they’re still breathing – seething might better fit the two now flatter faced Sén.
Freya <Blocknet is still down but I've got a signal; security are en route.>
I kneel, bambi pose, mid floor, facing the open door. Reluctantly retract my slip-suit to singlet, raise my hands, palm out, and wait.
Freya <relax, it's just your limbs, I've got you covered.>
I know how fems react to homs. Add me being a Maken – the primal fear: giant carnivores are scary, even when you are one. Doesn’t matter that I’m a dwarf – they’ll just see the blood, a pile of bodies, a Maken hom, and react on instinct.
I relax – focus on my calming origami sutra: frog – crane – lotus.
Soon enough, I hear the BTRs thudding down the hallway. They get quiet when they spot the blood.
They’ll stack at the door, then pile in, sweep the angles. One should cover me, another the hall, and two to check the wall units.
The first one stumbles in, “Maken!”, her Zapper shot hits something behind me and I cover my face as the second, third, fourth pile in – they all Zap me – arms, torso, legs – I black out to the sound of follow-up zaps.