handshake

Virgo: Don’t hold your breath — today you will meet the love of your life!

Capricorn: An old wound left untreated will fester.

Clippings of the horoscope section, The Mundan Exemplar, morning circular, Axis Mundi edition, UCF 05/20/454

GETHSEMANE Complex, Corpus Christi, Texas, Axis Mundi, Earth, UCF 05/20/454, 1342 hours

Hanabi-Venus stops. No— not, not you— not here…

Hanabi sweats. Dread, panic. So it will be a final test.

A hostile commslink signal broadcasts to every frequency. The commsline populates with the scowling face of Trinity Hopeland. Devoid, now, of that easy joy it once held so earnestly. Trinity speaks.

“FLECHETTE JAYDAMN! BIRTH OF VENUS, ANSWER ME!”

Hanabi’s finger hesitates over the BROADCAST prompt. She trembles.

“FLECHETTE JAYDAMN! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE! COME AND FACE ME!”

Together. Protect. Venus reaches out into the psychoscape, offers a calming presence to support Hanabi. Solid, reliable, and loyal. Thank you, Venus.

Hanabi-Venus answers the broadcast. She speaks clearly, carefully.

“Hello Trinity.”

Trinity seems to be stunned by the actual response. It’s clear that she didn’t really expect an answer. A twitch in the left anterior shoulder of the ISCARIOT ripples through the myofibrillium. A pause stretches out.

“Flechette…” The voice is straining for strength, but the breaks are audible, even over the commsline. Splintering. Oh, Trin.

Around Hanabi-Venus, the PLAA infantry waits. For the enemy to make a move. Hanabi-Venus places herself protectively between the ISCARIOT and the People.

“Trinity. Leave the ISCARIOT. Go home. We don’t have to do this.”

Rage flickers through the face of the proprioceptopath, her control fracturing visibly.

“WE DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS? YOU DID THIS! WHY? WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR, FOR—”

Tears flow freely from Trinity’s eyes now, seemingly abandoning every semblance of manicured precision.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU COME BACK FOR ME?”

“I couldn’t.” The response is final. Hanabi-Venus has already made her decision. She made it before she came here. She made it the moment she stood in front of the People and declared her commitment.

The bare, simple logic of the response seems to gut Trinity. The exact worst thing to say. I wanted to. But I could not.

“Was… Was I not worth it? For you? What was all this for? Why?”

The ISCARIOT clenches its fists tighter. Careful… Hanabi-Venus grips her sword, preparing for the inevitable.

Hanabi-Venus speaks.

“Do what you have come to do.”

The rage, the pain, are completely unhidden, unfiltered, on the face of the proprioceptopath. Hanabi’s lover. Trinity. Her name is Trinity. Trinity howls like an animal, and the ISCARIOT rushes Hanabi-Venus. The battlefield erupts as the contending armies charge each other.

The Thanatic claws of the ISCARIOT meet the Thanatic edge of Hanabi-Venus’ blade. A shriek, and then clicking floods the battlefield as the fields meet, grinding against each other. Hanabi-Venus swings with the vibrablade, hoping to make this fight quick, clean. Merciful.

It will not be that simple. The ISCARIOT flips into the air, lands behind Hanabi-Venus. Kicks her in the back, then slashes a claw forward, tearing a gash through the ceramic armor of Hanabi-Venus’ back. Hanabi-Venus cries out. The Thanatic burns sear the myofibrillium of her shared body.

The ISCARIOT goes for the kill-shot, aiming a claw directly at the entry plug of Hanabi-Venus. The bonded pair swing the vibrablade, bringing the flat of the blade up as protection, guarding her heart.

The claws meet the blade with a horrific wail.

Trinity screams over the commsline.

“Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! You left me behind!”

The ISCARIOT throws blow after blow, fists meeting the flat of Hanabi-Venus’ blade each time, matched perfectly. Two warriors who know each other’s every habit, every desire, every move. Hanabi-Venus thrusts the sword forward, towards the ISCARIOT’s ganglion core. The ISCARIOT weaves out of the way, protecting its precious control matter.

Hanabi-Venus can hear the pain and betrayal singing through every blow. Her heart splinters. Trinity screams, whirls around, bringing a heel up to Hanabi-Venus’ head. Hanabi-Venus brings up a forearm to block, just in time, protecting her head at the cost of fracturing ceramic armor. The shockwave flares out, shattering the glass of the surrounding troop transports, buildings.

Below, the battle rages. PLAA infantry forces meet the remaining ARC forces with a hail of gunfire. A battle of thousands against thousands. Ash fills the air, vaporized remains, choking vision and lungs. Above, the two god-machines do battle for history. For which reality is true.

The duel continues, the shriek of mech combat a terrible song, the crossed lovers met in final contradiction. Each blow transforms, dissolves as it reaches the other, becoming a question, an answer. Cross against cross, the truth comes through in each attack and defense.

Why did you leave?

I couldn’t bring you with me.

Why?

You weren’t ready.

We were supposed to be together forever.

And now I am here. And I will be here until the end.

I hate you!

I love you.

Hanabi-Venus drops her sword. The ISCARIOT charges towards her. Hanabi-Venus spreads her arms wide, inviting.

The ISCARIOT’s claws find a home in Hanabi-Venus’ sides. She closes her arms around the ISCARIOT, embracing her.

What—

I’m sorry.

Hanabi-Venus reaches deep inside, and rips the entry plug out of the ISCARIOT. Drops it onto the ground.

The ISCARIOT stands motionless, claws still embedded within Hanabi-Venus. Made hollow. Made empty. Then it collapses onto the ground, limp, like a corpse.

Below, the entry plug blows its emergency hatch. Trinity begins sprinting towards the GETHSEMANE. Hanabi-Venus knows what she has to do. A loose, heartbroken proprioceptopath in the halls of the GETHSEMANE threatens the entire operation.

Hanabi apologizes. I’m sorry, Venus. I’ll be back.

Venus just kneels, opens the cockpit, and carries Hanabi down to the battlefield. Inside the cockpit, the displays read: GOODBYE.