Price and Balance (Part 2)
Maria Turn 11 Third Omake
Thousand Song was a blot on the horizon. At this distance, Maria had to furrow her brow to make out the details; hazy spires and tall pagodas, high walls, barred gates… beyond that, nothing. A smudge. The armies surrounding it were easier to make out, but she knew what she'd see, there. The truth was, Blood Path looked like Blood Path, whatever the sect. The variability was, in it's own way, uniform.
She grit her teeth, and strangled the sigh that had built up in her chest. This was ridiculous. She was in her fucking nineties, for fuck's sake, and all but seventeen years of that in the Legions. This wasn't the first time she'd had to take an order she didn't like. Why was this one sticking in her craw so badly?
Be better, she scolded herself.
You're a captain. Act like it.
The best thing to do, she decided, was distract herself. The latest tactical dispatch was still crammed into one of her pockets. Honestly, she should have read it already, but there'd been too much to do all day trying to manage what was left of the squad. Nikolas was technically on loan to the Array master's corps – a trained soldier with working Array knowledge was helpful on a mission like this, where an extra body with a chisel and a brain could shave valuable seconds off an installation and mean the difference between success or failure – but that hadn't exempted her from the usual joys of paperwork and squad evaluations. If anything it just made them worse; she'd been chasing down some charming arsehole who'd been supervising Nikolas all day just to get him to sign off half a dozen sheets she was almost positive no-one would ever read. Selene and Georgy weren't much better. The former was being eyed up by that nameless collection of elders with unexplained but potent connections to the Parakoimomenos, and now every few hours, Maria would find her junior swept off into private tents for briefings she wasn't allowed to know about. The latter had somehow stumbled into a dozen arguments as soon as he'd showed up, supposedly about his brother. Maria hadn't the heart to ask which; Abel's particularly strong opinions had grown a crop of loud detractors pretty much everywhere, but Zeno… well. Those few enemies he had seemed to hold their opinions *strongly.* All three of them somehow managed to make their troubles Maria's problem; Selene's absences had to be explained carefully, Georgy's charming new play mates needed their feathers unruffled, and Nikolas meant every damn report needed cross-signing by gods alone knew who.
When had this happened? When had she become the bureaucrat-den mom for these people? She felt her temper rising again, and her eye flicking back to the sieged city in the distance. Damn it. No. No, she would be calm. She would be a good example. Maria took a deep breath, held it, let it out, and turned her attention back to the dispatch scroll. It was crumpled and worn, but legible enough. She read.
"
…While the assaults so far have been as one would expect for such a siege as this, our response thus far has been cause for celebration. Of particular note is the recent repulsion of Demonic Altar shock troops by Lieutenant Draconis Kalokagathos – our latest addition to the ranks of foundation establishment. Kalokagathos's timely intervention ensured that our forces were not required to split their focus between the larger assault from the North, or instead attempt to extirpate the enemy after they had had a chance to infiltrate the wider city populace. It is commendable in one so new to foundation establishment…"
She felt her jaw creak with the pressure of her grinding teeth. Jealousy. Gods. How small-minded was that? She
liked Draconis, and he'd won that affection fairly, with hard work and support. She'd been cheering on his ascension less than a month ago. She had to let this… foolishness… go.
Another deep breath. And another. And another. Let go of the crumpled report, now torn a little from her almost-clenched fists. Calm. Calm.
There was a cough behind her. She turned. Selene, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, arms crossed, gaze lowered – the usual combination of deference and hesitancy. Someone needed to remind that kid how lethal she was, or at least teach her to strut a little more; Gods knew Maria had tried. Still. No time to take it out on a poor girl who's only crime was proximity. The captain made herself smile.
"Caught me out again, Selene."
"Yes, captain."
"Gonna have to put a bell on you."
Selene smiled a little. It was an old joke between them.
"Pretty silver one, please."
"I'll see what I can scrounge. What's got you coming bothering me so quiet and subtle?"
Her junior's face fell at the question. That told her the answer before a word was said.
"…Ah shit," said Maria.
"Sorry, captain."
"Again?"
Selene nodded.
"The training ground, this time. She said it was sparring practice, but…"
The captain gave a frustrated growl.
"Should have kept that bitch locked up in my head," she muttered. "Saved me a world of fucking stress. Alright. This official?"
Selene gave a very careful little shrug.
"In the face of multiple chains of command," she said, each word calculated for maximum arse-covering should this blow up in everyone's face, "I decided to inform you first, as my captain, both due to your immediate seniority, and your personal experience with the issue in question."
Maria snorted bitterly.
"Fine way of putting it. Alright," she said, standing up. "I'll handle it."
---
The nature of the mission in One-Boat, One-River was a little outside the ordinary for the Golden Devils. Normally, clan doctrine was to dig in, fortify, and defend. It was a solid strategy, but it didn't work here; the enemy was disorganized and fluid, striking and retreating at random. Worse, the evacuation of local mortals was more important. They couldn't focus their forces too much – not with so many easy targets to ferry back and forth. Instead, they'd focused on mobility. The camps were clusters of tents thrown up quickly, defended with what fortifications could be thrown together in short order. Everything would be disassembled again in short order when they moved on. As a result, things tended to be a little… slapdash. Training grounds in particular. Nine times out of ten it was just a rectangle, sketched out roughly in whatever free space they could find. This time they'd barely even managed that, given the dozen or so extra tents they'd picked up for the refugees.
And yet somehow, Lyssa had managed to wreck it. It'd be impressive if Maria didn't have to deal with the fucking fallout. The ground, once stamped flat by diligent legionnaires, was pocked and scarred by impact craters and scorch marks. The thin lines scraped into the dirt as borders were gone in their entirety, but it seemed her sister had decided to replace them with glass, fresh forged by the look of it. She could imagine how that happened – there was enough sand around that one good blast would cook it. The why, especially after the ludicrous damage on display in front of her, was a little harder to grasp.
The rest of the trainees had fled already. Selene would have informed the rest of the camp's command, by now. That would come back to bite her, she was sure of it. Maria fought down her temper again, pinched the brow of her nose, and advanced.
In the centre of the chaos was her sister-self. Lyssa seemed calm, from a distance, slowly working her way through a few of the more technical katas of the bull dance. Maria wasn't fooled. The movements were considered and slow, certainly, but whatever wrathful lunacy had prompted all this hadn't abated. Lyssa hadd just crushed it down tightly, letting the pressure build up for the next explosion.
Well, that was not going to happen if Maria had anything to say about it. She stalked across the wreckage until she was less than a foot away.
"There a reason for all this?" she asked, voice full of leashed irritation. Her sister snorted and turned away. "No? Just figured it'd been awhile since we looked like idiots, then?"
Lyssa's kata was getting bigger, more aggressive. Her jaw was taking on that hard line, too; the stubborn one.
"Fuck's sake. Come on, let's go."
"Haven't finished," said her sister. There was a low rumble in her voice, barely perceptible; like the tremors before an earthquake.
"Well, the training ground is. Come on."
"No."
"Imperator's balls, Lyssa, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Lyssa turned and fixed Maria with a hard stare. Her lips quirked into a contemptuous sneer.
"You ask. Like you don't know. Like it isn't the same thing wrong with you."
It shouldn't have set her off. She knew that. The sisters made jibes like that to one another every day. Sometimes it was practically affectionate.
It shouldn't have set her off. It did.
The punch took Lyssa full in the face, and sent her staggering backwards. There was a brief moment of stillness as they registered what had happened, and then Lyssa was on her, surging forwards with all the power and force of an avalanche as she rained down a shower of violent strikes.
Maria's arms came up. She'd come to live out of her bull sleeves since the Trials, and she thanked the Gods for that; it made parrying notably easier. Damn it. Damn it, how had-
Another punch rattled against her right vambrace, barely avoided. There was no time for thoughts. Focus. Her temper was still roiling underneath her thoughts. It'd be far too easy to give into it, and then the whole thing would only get worse. As it was, she'd be explaining this to the Centurion before the day was out. What she had to do now was keep it from escalating. She couldn't tire Lyssa out, not at the tenth heavenstage, but she could bore her enough to let this go.
They went at it like that for a while; Lyssa striking, roaring, spitting flames, and Maria ducking, blocking, weaving out of her way. She could feel her sister's frustration building up through their link with each refusal to engage. She'd been hoping for a fight. A real one. This was just… infuriating. The worst kind of time wasting. At last, she skidded to a stop behind Maria, turned, and howled in incoherent fury.
Maria glared at her.
"You finished now?"
"FUCK you," snarled Lyssa.
"That a yes?" There was an angry silence. Maria gave a frustrated snarl. "Gods, Lyssa. This is fucking ridiculous."
"Is it," muttered her sister.
"Yes! It's a
mission. Not a holiday. We go where we're needed."
"Out here. Miles away from the fight. Like children."
"Like *Legionnaires*, you idiot. But since you brought up children, how long have you been a spoiled brat?"
Lyssa froze. Maria pressed on, heedless. She was tired of having to explain this.
"You don't get what you want. So you throw a tantrum. Because you
deserve better, right? You're the
Red. You
saved the Thousand. You want
a real fight where you can feel special-"
And then her sister laughed. Maria halted, a little shocked. She'd expected anger, denial, possibly even a little shame. What she was getting was… contempt.
"That's what you think this is about?" Lyssa said, around mirthless chuckles. "Really? Gods. You don't know a damn thing about yourself, do you?"
"I know-"
"I shouldn't be surprised, though. That's what I'm for, isn't it? All the stuff you don't like, you push it down into me."
"That's-"
"Shut
up, would you? For once in your fucking…"
Lyssa turned away, and raked a hand through the tight short fuzz of her hair. She laughed again, cold and bitter.
"It's not about being
special, you dumb fuck. It's about being
weak."
Maria felt… something. Something hard, and still, and sharp; discovering a razorblade lodged in her guts that had been there for years. It was the abominable sense of recognition.
"Draconis has passed us by," said Lyssa. The anger had drained out of her. She just sounded defeated, now. "Gaius, too. And I don't care that he was always going to, it doesn't fucking matter. We're a fighter. A good one. But the single pillar means we're here, scrabbling around in Qi Condensation when we could be Foundation Establishment by now. Easily, too."
"That's the cost," said Maria, finding her voice again. "Time is the cost-"
"But who's fucking
paying it?! What kind of difference are we making out here, hah? Instead of being in the city, where a hand-to-hand specialist wouldn't just be useful, they'd be a godsend."
"…Rina Callista proves-"
"
We already fucking have Rina Callista. And this fucking
SHIT we're doing, trying to be her, it means we're not doing our damn job. We are
costing the clan. And more than that. Out here? Two cities. A handful of mortals. Inside Thousand Song? Millions. Literal millions of lives. Everyone that dies because they are understaffed in there is on us, because
we could have saved it. We are
WEAK, Maria. Because we want to be
special."
The silence rang with horrible clarity. Lyssa's body seemed to crumple, a little. Maria felt herself echo it. After a moment, her sister-self trudged away.
She wanted to call her back. She wanted to say something.
But what was there to say?
---
Paging doctors
@no. ,
@ReaderOfFate and
@Kaboomatic , doctors no., ReaderOfFate and Kaboomatic for a threadmark please...
