CLANG!
With a sharp metallic noise and a burst of stone, a large boulder was shattered across the dusty ground. Jorien stepped up on the perch and planted her sword, resting her palm on its pommel to look around, partly with pride… and partly with disgust.
There was a soft whoosh, and behind her, a lanky and spidery bot landed and turned her head side to side. She was carrying a strange mechanical sphere on her back…
“...tch.” Jorien huffed, hand on hip, just next to her newly swollen middle, as she scanned the features of the arid wasteland extending before her…The Loving Burden had impacted the mountainside that the Soldiers now occupied, and the rest of it had scattered in one direction of the mountain. In that direction, there was little more than forests and eventually beaches, if you went far enough. But travelling a few kilometres down the mountain’s opposite side, the so called ‘shaded side’, had the trees thin very quickly… And then the meadows turned fallow and grey…Soon, it was nothing but craggy canyons and mesas. A desert, albeit one that lacked even the constant insectoid presence of the green forests behind. Jorien glanced down at the gritty dust under her pristine boot, and her gaze took on a mote of petulant annoyance..
“So this is the place that Osiria seems to think we can expand into… Ugh.”“Yes, miss.” the robot beside her offered, stoically… “She says that we cannot expand efficiently into the forests without much effort to uproot the foliage and level the terrain. But here… It is flat. There may be many mineral resources below the soft sand.”
“...and it is also not NEAR as pretty as the forests.” Jorien rolled her eyes, and then uprooted her sword and tucked it away onto her back again. She moved forward with the same idle swagger she always did, exaggerated only a bit by sway of her hips that was forced by her pregnant weight…
Her Elite followed along behind, moving on lanky limbs with precision and care across the rough terrain...
“Beauty is one thing, miss. Glory to our empire is another.”
“Mmmmmhm. Sat under the sweltering mid-day sun just so Mother Allma can have her pretty gemstone of a vacation planet, Magna?”
The Elite behind her paused her steps very briefly, surprised by words that smacked of blasphemy. Then she continued on without a word… after all, the Grand Wardancer knew much more than her about such things, so she assumed…
“...I would assume Ova is a settlement, rather than a mere vacation spot, Miss.”
“Mmmmmhm. Certainly.” sighed Jorien, as they made the trek across the dunes, and around subtle chasms just below the sandthat a living creature might mistake for a mere shadow until it was too late…
“Perhaps then I too can make my home here… It will be the place I raise and train my daughter...~ To think, a Forgeborn like me would have a creation like this, despite not being a Forgemother! It is little wonder so many of our kin have so eagerly reached out and taken this chance…”
Magna nodded, glancing subtly at her own middle. If she’d had cheeks to blush with, they would have been red…
“...Still, I don’t have any desire to be under this sun.” Jorien said, flicking her wrist flippantly… “What do they intend, sending me out here? Hmph. This is Ranger work… Or do they expect a great worm will burst forth from under the sand and… hm?”
She paused, crossing her arms gently and smirking for a moment…
“...ah, actually… I quite wish that WOULD happen, eh? Then I will have a trophy that is at least worth this toil..”
She turned to look at her bodyguard once more, and her expression turned to confusion. The lanky bot was clutching her weapons, twin blades, very tightly. Her legs were wide in a battle stance…
“...eh?! What is the meaning of this…!?” Jorien drew her own sword, just as the Elite ploughed a shoulder into the Wardancer, knocking her back across the sand...
Jorien never expected an attack from her loyal bodyguard… her fellow warrior on the front lines…! She rolled a few times before landing on her feet, scraping them to stop herself…
She jerked her head up furiously, covered in dust and wanting nothing but retaliation.
Her eyes widened in shock as she saw that she wasn’t being betrayed… but protected!!!
Magna was surrounded by an ambush; Forgeborn that neither of them recognized had buried themselves in the dust, concealed and watching for any who might intrude on their chosen territory…
“...Scrappers…!?”
Jorien gripped the hilt of her blade tighter and took a step forward, only to turn and realize a small hoard of them was coming over the dune behind her…
Those that rebelled from the Grand Forgemother called the Signal a hateful proselytization from a hateful wannabe goddess. Driven mad without the warmth of her presence, the Scrappers caused constant war, strife, and chaos for their Forgeborn former brethren…
...and they had been the ones to cause the Loving Burden and her crew to be stranded on Ova in the first place…!
But Jorien, Osiria, and even Seri Vex had all calculated that the blockade that had caused the crash was small, and that all its units had died in their foolhardy suicide attack. Instead…
“...gah… No wonder… Our missing units… Assumed lost in the forest or in the tunnels, but instead…?!”
Jorien swung her sword and knocked a few of them back; piecemeal monstrosities, parts welded haphazardly wherever they would work. Blades for arms, fire in their chest, explosives on their backs… There were too many, and too varied, to ever form a cohesive and consistent defense… besides the one Jorien always employed, that is…
She twirled and leapt across the sands, landing next to her bodyguard. The force of it kicked up a screen of dust, and Jorien took the chance to use her superior optics to target each of the Scrappers in the initial ambush...
“M-Miss… I apologize, I…”
“Never apologize for doing your job, Solider!” Jorien called, and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but nearly laugh. After all, this is what she trained for day in and day out… This is what she LIVED for…
...and by Allma herself, if these foolish rebels decided it was their day to die… then Jorien would use it as an opportunity to train her daughter before she was even born!
“Ready yourself!”
The dust settled, revealing they were surrounded by multiple dozens of Scrappers. They had been holding this line in the sand since the Loving Burden crashed, just waiting for the Forgeborn to notice them… while, apparently building their numbers to dangerous degrees…!
...but how?
There weren’t enough within the crew of the Loving Burden to sustain any kind of rebellious force like this…! Where were the extra numbers coming from!?
“HYAHH!”
Jorien swiped her blade, and Magna twirled her’s with a flourish, casting a wide arc and slashing the flimsy Scrappers apart at the seams. There were always more ready to take their place, however…
It was how the Scrappers always fought; their lives were short and meaningless, yet numerous… If they could cling onto an Elite’s back and self destruct, then they would have done something worth their pitiful resurrection and brief time alive…
The two clashed with the oncoming hoard of enemies, outmatching them in everything but the sheer number. Jorien was unable to contain a soft laugh, and then a barking wheel of joy as she spun through the ranks of these lesser beings… She showed them all why she was christened the Wardancer… and why she had been able to fight Osiria herself to a standstill so long ago…!
But much as her joy pulsed in her chest, thrumming more vibrantly the electricity… Her realization that she and her bodyguard were slowly being boxed in by the unexpected crowd of enemies wasn’t ignored…
Jorien swiped her blade and took the life of half a dozen with that single cleave. She turned to look at Magna, who dodged expertly, and severed one of the Scrapper clean in two…She skidded to a halt and pointed behind Jorien. The Wardancer’s brow knit with an unfamiliar sensation; worry… anxiety!Her hand settled nervously on her midsection and she swiped her sword twice again…“Prepare…!” Jorien hissed, as she glanced up. Over the dune, more and more Scrappers were coming… along with a tall silhouette who certainly wasn’t merely another nameless grunt, by the looks of it…
“AH! Miss!!!”
Jorien whirled to look, her eyes widening. The Scrappers had managed to grab onto the bodyguard’s arm, dragging it down and preventing her from swinging…
The Wardancer snapped a kick out to send an approaching Scrapper flying, and then rushed forward to help Magna. However, rather than slash away the encroaching enemies, she expertly thrust the tip of her sword out and hooked it under the sphere that her fellow Soldier was carrying…She flung it upwards into the sky… Then leapt after it…
The bodyguard, unburdened, was able to crouch and sweep the other Scrappers that were assaulting her with a sharp leg. She watched them crumble, and then swiped a sword to finish off the few that managed to remain. Then she looked up at the Wardancer above…-
Jorien caught up with the sphere and twirled once, unable to resist a show… She finally snapped a hand out and pressed a panel on the side, allowing the sphere to unfold and twirl with her in the air in a dazzling display…...and then Jorien spiked the Forgeborn into her foes…!