12 Miles Below

Book 6 - Chapter 57 - To'Orda



“He’ll fight tooth and nail to stay alive.” To’Sefit said, bringing up more data the two had compiled. “So long as you rely on my plates and the drake, you should be able to stay at range and whittle them down. Do be a good boy and don’t let him anywhere near you.”

Of course she’d say to fight him at range. She fights everything at range. But she had a massive flying lesser to travel around with, and he had a single drake. Or at least, she had a flying lesser to carry her along until the human killed it.

Perhaps neither To'Avalis nor To'Sefit should be giving him advice on how to fight, given their win record. But of course, he wasn't going to mention that out loud. He wasn't stupid.

The drake was making good progress across the biome here, but flight was still far more preferable. No matter how much To’Avalis screeched about optimal use of internal space and how wasteful flight is underground when jumping would do just about the same amount of travel. Leaping around was effort. Something To’Avalis didn’t seem to factor into his mathematics.

His wayward little sister used wings to fly around. And she’d won fights with it. And To'Sefit fired cannons from on high, and that worked for years now.

But To’Orda knew better than to say anything to the two watching through his eyes however. They’d start arguing.

His shell was far too bulky for wings anyhow. Bugger.

“The human is going to bring out a slew of possible tricks and feints. I’ve sent you a list of tactics we’ve encountered last time. Although there’s a strong possibility he’s added new abilities and gear since the last fight.” To’Avalis said, sending him a data and research. "Approach with extreme caution."

To’Orda didn’t bother reading, and sent it to his image generating software to do that for him. It woke up, gave one look at the text logs, then sent him an passive aggressive answer that it strictly generated images. It did not read texts. Get that giant wall of text out of its face. It promptly went back to sleep after.

He updated the software and pushed through text-reading into it.

Then sent it the text log again, insistent.

The program spooled up again, tried to refuse, realized it couldn’t, then made use of the update to crunch through the text log and send back the main points. Along with a generated image of itself, upset at the extra work.

The program was running within his neuromorphic mind. Perhaps his tendencies and behaviors had affected it. To’Orda gave it a gentle mental pat on the head, and then let it go back to sleep. That’s what he would have wanted.

The notes came back to what he’d expected: The human was going to move far faster than any Deathless, so overclocking from the start of the fight was necessary. He would need to expect an ambush almost anywhere within a mile of the human, including from underground. Additionally there was a strong chance he’d attempt to steal things, because the human was feral and nothing was sacred to him.

How the human would be able to grab and lift either his hammer or his shield, To’Orda didn’t know but the other two were convinced there was a non-zero chance of that happening, somehow.

And he would be attacking with wraiths. Those should not be a problem since even a finger poke would dissolve them. The real problem is that he was known for summoning an entire army of them, and having them equally spawn more wraiths from within each. They could go through walls, terrain, and just about anything.

And they could fly.

Additionally, both of them were unsure if it’s only the single human in his armor or if there are additional souls. In which case, letting the human get too close means he might get hijacked as well, because that was a thing now.

He sighed deeply at the thought.

It was going to be miserable. Fighting a tiny hypersmart feral pest who’ll fight tooth, nail, and soul to destroy him - and had all the gear, spells and tactics to actually make that happen.

He also had a friend, at least from the video footage they’d recovered from one of the lessers that engaged in a fight with the pair. To’Sefit and To’Avalis had no data on that one, nor where he’d appeared from. But at least he didn’t move as fast and felt far more familiar to fight against. A normal Deathless human.

To’Orda debated which would be more annoying to deal with: The two Feathers constantly finding ways to scream at him about abandoning a mission, or fighting the rabid human and his unknown escort.

Ultimately, the human would be a short enough fight. Either he’d win or he’d lose, but that’d be the end of it. Walking away now would mean the two Feathers would hound after him for the rest of time, which sounded just slightly more miserable.

“Do not worry, great one. We will deliver them from their folly.” The drake under him reassured, picking up on his internal debate, if not the nature of it.

He didn’t feel like answering, and just gave a deep grunt which was enough. The drake padded forward a little more, “Sss…. we are nearby the possible hunting grounds, great one. Shall we seek them where they hide?”

His large hand wrapped around the three plates he’d carried inside his shawl. Clunky things, without any of the elegance To’Sefit’s original versions had. But To’Orda didn’t have the internal gravity lock-ons that To’Sefit’s frame had built-in. So the three plates here had to all independently be able to float and work, which meant quite a chunky backplate.

They turned on at his command, and he let them float outwards, gravity strands hooking onto his shell’s location and locking in place. They’d follow him around and be far enough away that opening fire with them wouldn’t cause too much damage to his own shell.

This was it. The drake had done its job hunting down the humans, tracking down possible locations and playing detective until it was reasonably certain it was the old human starship far up in the distance.

“Nnnnn… They’re here.” He reported, his infrared showing the two voids armors would typically display. They were hurrying away from the ship, finding cover.

“Good.” To’Avalis said, sounding genuinely happy for once. “Finally something goes right. Eliminate him as rapidly as possible before he notices you.”

“Oh! So quick? To’Avalis, my dear, try to enjoy life a bit.” To’Sefit pouted, annoyed.

“Respectfully, sister, I would rather win.” He answered back neutrally.

To’Sefit sighed, “Fine, very well. I will inform our little sister we are dealing with her human now then. Hopefully she’ll come online fast enough to see some of the action. A live video feed is far better than a pre-recorded one.”

To’Orda would rather that not happen, a third voice among the peanut gallery watching would be much more annoying. Especially since it was guaranteed their little sister would be completely opposed to everything he was doing. And equally vocal about it.

But the other two were pissed and insistent, and mother had ordered both To’Sefit and himself to follow the orders of To’Avalis all that time ago. That order hadn’t changed. So To’Orda sighed and, very reluctantly, sent the video link to her address along with who it was from.

To’Wrathh appeared within the millisecond. “You are making a grave mistake.” She hissed, immediately understanding why she’d been invited here to watch. “That human is mine and any of you laying even a finger on him will have it cut off along with your head and your soul fractal. If you value your life, you will turn back now.”

His little sister sounded almost as deranged as the human he was supposed to hunt. Why was everyone in the world getting angrier and angrier these days?

“My, my. Do watch that temper.” To’Sefit chided. “Mother will be sure to watch this recording, I would recommend you stay cordial. You don’t have to pretend to hate us just yet, wait until you meet your favorite... ahh Deathless in person to propose that alliance of yours. Although, how nice of you to already begin practicing your acting with just us. This older sister of yours is quite flattered at the attention.”

A warning. The two Feathers here were doing some kind of theater play of pretending to be enemies, pretending to be allies, pretending to be enemies. Or did it go down one more layer? No, that would end at friends. Which he was mostly certain they weren’t.

No wait -- Pretending to be friends would be the right endpoint. That implied they weren’t friends at all right? Right.

“Don’t bother.” To’Avalis scoffed, adopting a different voice from a long dead Feather. “This will be over with soon enough.”

Oh, and his boss was pretending to be a dead Feather. That was also a thing.

All he was certain of, was that it was beyond convoluted because Feathers. All his brothers and sisters were exhausting.

The Drake caught sight of them next. Its vision spectrum was far weaker than To’Orda’s, but it could zoom in farther. To’Orda fed it the prior sight he’d seen, which let the Drake find where the two humans were most likely to be.

Indeed, the small top of their helmets could be spotted, just enough for the armor’s cameras to peek over the rocks.

The Drake fired. To’Orda prayed to himself and anyone else that could listen. Please, let this be over with and done with that single shot.

Drake hissed under him. “Great one, the feeble fleshlings have avoided my attack. I will try again from another angle.”

Of course there’d be a miss. Even the image generator within his mind was already sending him data before he’d even asked. Although, when he looked it over, he realize it was the same image it had generated a while back of him on his hands and knees, exhausted with the world and part of his soul leaking out his mouth.

Smart. Reusing old images to avoid generating new ones. To’Orda could respect that. It preened smuggly at the praise before spooling down.

“Why are you staring out in the void? Open fire with the panels!” To’Sefit chided in the middle of his contemplations. “Strike now, while they’re still recovering. They won’t expect those.”

“Panels?” Now To’Wrathh joined in, voice hitched up as she likely immediately realized what panels meant in this context. Her attention turned on him and stared him down with absolutely fury. “You brought her panels to the fight? Have you no pride in your own abilities as a Feather?”

“Nnn… don’t want my shield to be more damaged.” He said honestly. “And he is too far to hit with my hammer.”

That warlock's detonation had taught him a lesson about the limits of his shield's durability and ever since then he'd been highly protective of it.

Maybe in the past he’d have been more heated about all this. But his name wasn’t The One Of Resolve Ignited, not anymore. So much easier not to be.

She sent back a series of degrading pictures which To’Orda promptly refused to look at. Even his image generator seemed appalled at it, so that was more than enough reason for him not to look at any of it.

“Your Deathless has to be handled with every possible advantage.” To’Avalis dryly said. “You forced our hands yourself. Worry not, us fighting him with such lopsided tactics would make it easier to convince him to partner up with you. We are doing you a favor, consider it a courtesy extended from your elder brother. As apology from the earlier… mishaps.”

That was accompanied with an image of To’Avalis patting her head fondly, like a little child. Even drawing her as a child.

To’Avalis’s changed voice was eerie to hear, there was something deeply uncanny in it. Some part of To’Orda knew Feathers were supposed to be proud of who they were, and pretending to be another would mean throwing away that pride in oneself.

But that voice inside him was long dead and near dormant. It was just easier not to worry about the small things like that.

He focused all three panels and made them lock onto the human ducking under those rocks. To’Sefits great cannons, taken from old human destroyers, charged up a few thousand miles away. Then he sent the command to open fire.

To’Wrathh tried to send him a few data connection requests, which he ignored dutifully. Images were fine, any other kind of link or connection was not. To’Avalis had said she’d try to meddle in every way possible.

The beams went through the occult portal and out the relatively small floating plates he had. It burned the sides of his shawl, leaving the fabric glowing ember red as parts dissolved and continued to dissolve long after he’d finished firing. That was… unfortunate.

Smoke wafted off the melted rocks, floating away. And his vision pinged the two humans, still running away. Damn.

“Nnn… they’re alive.” Because the world hates him and wants him to suffer.

“Your petty tricks won’t catch my human by surprise.” To’Wrathh preened.

The Drake would need a minute to fire again, but To’Sefits cannons were far more efficient, given they took up an entire warehouse each. He would fire again shortly.

“They’re making a run for the ship.” To’Avalis noted. “This is an attempt to obstruct your vision.”

It would be effective too. That ship was a hand touch away from collapsing, but it was still made of starfaring metal, which couldn’t be seen through. Trees, rocks and other items around the biome here had means of working around. Not the ship however.

“Nnnnn…” To’Orda mulled it over. He had to kill the human from range, and they were about to hide from his sight. He’d need to get closer to ge-- wait. There was an easier solution to all this.

“I’ll keep shooting.” He eventually ended with.

If he kept doing so, eventually the entire structure would be a riddled mess of holes and they couldn’t possibly hide anymore. Or he’d get lucky and nail them.

To’Wrathh sent him a series of graphic images detailing great violence.

“As much as it would be fun to watch them try to avoid shot after shot, my cannons will not survive prolonged fire like that.” To’Sefit said. “And I can’t switch them out. They’re quite big, you know?”

He furrowed his brow, thinking.

“Nnnn… the ship is wide. But narrow.” And he noticed there were floating rocks around the ship’s nose. He could have the drake jump up to the top, and then start firing holes through the entire ship. He’d need far less shots to vaporize the entire thing, and the drake would be carrying him so he wouldn’t need to walk.

“Oh, that’s quite a good idea!” To’Sefit said, giving him an image of her patting his head with pride.

“It’s suboptimal.” To’Avalis brought the mood down, “You can do the same technique from the base of the ship looking upwards. The climb to the top is unnecessary.”

“Rubbish.” To’Sefit huffed. “Looking down on the enemy while eradicating them from existence is a perfectly valid way of dealing with pests.”

To’Wrathh simply screeched incoherently, sending images of her thrashing his prized possessions: Ripping his shield in half with her hands and snapping his hammer on her knee. Both of which were physically impossible for her frame to do. To’Orda sent the calculations to her, and she answered back by saying she’ll find a way anyhow, she had enough spite for it.

She seemed so certain, To’Orda started to believe the tiny Feather really could do something like that.

“This is your bias speaking, To’Sefit.” His boss said gravely. “You are too used to having a flying platform to fire from, To’Orda does not have any means of moving in a three dimensional space. On the ground, there are far more footholds and options to work with. Arial combat isn’t optimal in the first place within the underground.”

“My, my, To’Aacar. You sound quite… logical about all this.” She said, giving a slight chuckle.

Ah, looks like they were about to argue anyhow, even with To'Orda having done his best to avoid that topic. Bugger.

“Fools need to be spoken to plainly.” To’Avalis quickly said, trying to get back into character.

And then To’Wrathh butted into the conversation like a wrecking ball. All three began to argue in his head. To’Avalis having strong opinions on maximizing shell space all while trying to sound arrogant and angry about everything, while To’Sefit and To’Wrathh both joined together to speak about the agility and symbolism of flight. Which To’Avalis insisted leaping around using their shells would functionally serve the same purpose in travel.

To’Orda put them all on mute for a moment to get some quiet time to himself while the Drake silently carried him to the base of the tower, past wild animals in strange clothing all staring at them cross by.

“Ssssss…. We are here, great one. Shall we start our symphony? Shall we sing these wayward children to sleep?”

They weren’t playing music. Simply firing upwards until there wasn’t anything left to fire at. But To’Orda didn’t have it in him to berate the Drake about his quirks.

“Nnnnn... Putting them to sleep.” he sighed, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders a few times before he got to work. “Lucky.”

A claw reached up and grabbed him, then slowly lifted and put him down on the ground. At the base of the tower, more wild animals were running out of it in a panic. Three tiny wolves with a pack of even smaller pups all yipping behind. They looked terrified of him, and terrified of the two humans who had probably done a mad rush to get into the ship ruins.

He paid it no great attention, they weren’t getting in his way or getting anywhere close to him.

The voice channel was starting to ping more things at him. To’Avalis was trying to get his direct attention. Damn. They must have realized he’d put them all on mute.

He considered pretending he hadn’t noticed. But he knew that would just make a worse time for him next.

“They’ll ambush you, be prepared.” To’Avalis said the moment he signaled he’d unmuted the chat. Which was redundant of him to point out. Of course there would be an ambush. “And stop playing around with communications, intelligence is far too important…” He stopped, coughed then started again, voice dipping back down to a cold fury. “Mute me again and I will teach you a lesson on why no one ignores me. Is that understood, you defective pile of junk?”

“You had far better insults for me.” To’Wrathh said, sounding like a cat playing with a mouse. “Have you lost your touch To’Aacar?”

He hit the mute button again. He shouldn’t have unmuted them in the first place.

Everything was blessedly quiet again. Even the barking and bird calls around him had gone silent, as if waiting for him to step through.

He looked up at the old monument.

Overclock the system. Walk in with To’Sefit’s plates pointed up and prepared to fire. Run a sensor sweep the very moment he walked in to look for traps or prepared defenses. Unmuted (Reluctantly) the channel on the very low chance To'Avalis or To'Sefit actually had something useful to say. Currently, that answer was no.

He was doing everything he was supposed to do. But deep down, he had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to work against this particular enemy. It was just going to be one of those days, he thought to himself as he crossed the threshold, preparing for the worst.

The Drake padded behind him, bending down to crawl slightly in order to fit into the tower.

They both looked up.

And were immediately, and savagely, attacked by the two humans waiting inside.


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