CRUNCH…!!!
More than a few died immediately from the heavy weight of the ball. Under its own power it rolled forward and then unfolded itself, hopping to its legs… Or rather, HER legs…
“Valkyrie! Protocol; all exterminate!” Jorien called, as she landed with a thud next to Magna. The Sphere stretched firmly, flexing her bladed arms, before her eyes flashed and she rushed forward…
The remaining Scrappers tried to hold their ground, but it was as effective as a crippled chipmunk struggling not to be dropped into blender blades. The poor Scrappers squealed and shrieked as they were taken to pieces…
Jorien slumped her shoulders and planted her sword again to lean on it. Magna did the same, huffing softly…
“...did we know that there was this presence in the dunes…?” asked the Bodyguard, hesitantly…
“...no. And Osiria would not have sent me out here alone if she suspected. She is many things, but she would not carelessly toss an asset like me into the wastes, whether she was plotting a backstab or not…”
She watched her second Bodyguard whirl and slice, jamming her blades messily into the rebuilt Forgeborn abominations around her. Valkyrie was an Elite literally created for extermination of lesser troops, and her terrifying blade dance was incredibly effective at it. Jorien was about to uproot her sword and go to their side…
...but this time, it was Magna that was tossed forward by a rough impact… And the one who did it certainly wasn’t trying to do anything but harm her…
Jorien gasped, and tried to turn to look, yet before she could, she felt a sharp impact on her shoulder and her arm went limp…
She stumbled a few feet, only just barely managing to hold onto her sword as she did. She spun to face her attacker… Her eyes widened…
...A Scrapper Elite… The leader?
But on closer inspection, she couldn’t have been... She wouldn’t have joined the front lines of the ambush if she was somehow an important leader. This monstrous Scrapper would have been stood on the dune and blowing a war horn and directing her foolish little troops, at the least. Then… Was this really all a trap…?!
The Scrapper Elite was, as with the rest of the Scrappers, bulky, mismatched, and piecemeal. But she dragged a wicked, crude looking hammer forward and lifted it menacingly…
Jorien pulled back, desperately attempting to get her damaged arm to respond. She could likely face a foe like this, even with only one arm… but it would be far more difficult, and…
She subtly glanced at her gently glowing midsection… and realized…
“...hah…?”
She was paying too much attention to the Scrapper Elite’s belly… realizing it too was round…
And then, she felt the hammer impact her chin, and send her flying back into the sand…
The Elite slowly stalked forward, towards her fallen prey. But Magna interceded, and landed in front of her to brandish her blades...
“Back, foul thing… Useless defector…!!!”
The Scrapper eyed her, and then lifted her hammer with uncanny strength. She slammed it down, just barely missing the Bodyguard by a nanometre or two… The Soldier stumbled back quickly, but didn’t move from her defensive stance between Jorien and this monstrous robot… After all, if Valkyrie’s task was to attack, Magna’s was to protect… And she wasn’t about to let her dear Jorien be ended by a mere Scrapper ambush!
“Away… AWAY!” she snarled, keeping the Scrapper back with the pressure of her twirling blades...
Jorien was disoriented after a blow that sharp to her head… What a pitiful thing, to be caught so off guard. She was having dire flashbacks to being shown up in front of all her troops by a tiny thing no bigger than a duct-cleaning bot…
...though, this was far more serious than merely blocking a killing blow…
She struggled to a stand. Valkyrie quickly rolled to her side, as Magna stumbled back to dodge another brutal impact, moving to be next to her as well…
The Scrapper Elite stepped forward… The glimmer in her eyes told that even if the three Soldiers took her down, there would be dozens more here within the hour. Jorien hissed and brandished her blade…
“...Back. Or I find whatever thrice damned monster built you and take their core for my daughter’s next MEAL…”
The Scrapper seemed amused by this… She lifted her hammer, preparing to rush forward. Jorien and her guards braced themselves for a ruinous clash…
WHAM!!!
...just as the Scrapper crouched to vault forward, there was a flash… And she arched as if in pain…
Her hammer slammed down to the dust, dropped from her trembling fingers. She fell to her knees…
...and Osiria slowly stepped up behind her, setting her blade on the Scrapper’s shoulder…
“...rest now, sister. With grace… You may yet find your way back to the Signal.”
The Scrapper slowly lifted their head…
...there was nothing but pure defiance in her eyes…
Osiria’s glare deepened, and she lifted her blade… then, with a whoosh and a metallic clang, the Scrapper’s head fell from her shoulders and rolled into the sand…
Jorien watched until the Scrapper’s head rolled. She relaxed heavily, nearly slumping to one knee. She kept herself upright by leaning on her planted sword, and if her other arm had been working, she would be holding her middle… inspecting it with uncharacteristic worry…
...The two guards noticed, and placed their hands there simultaneously, checking for her… To their collective relief, nothing seemed damaged even remotely. Seri Vex’s design was impeccable...
Osiria walked up in front of Jorien, her cloak fluttering in the heated breeze. She might, under other circumstances, taken the moment to gloat and smirk. At the moment, however, her expression was grave…
Jorien pushed herself to a full stand once more, to stare into her sister’s eyes…
“...were you following us, sister? Couldn’t dare let me do something on my own for fear of my messing it up?”
“No.” Osiria said, simply. She glanced at the two Bodyguards, then at the mess of scrap metal all around…
“...I came because I saw you were in distress. Your readings went to dangerous levels in an instant… And I knew it would be smartest for me to come and make sure you were okay.”
Jorien’s eyes narrowed, still locked onto Osiria’s. The two remained tense for a moment, although most of the bad energy came from Jorien. Jealousy and frustration raged through her… and yet…
...she pushed out a hand. Osiria took it…
“Thank you, sister.” Jorien mumbled, begrudgingly, before turning to look at the carnage… “But… why were they out here in the first place? None should have survived, and not in THIS number… We assumed this wasteland to be empty and ripe for the taking… Not…”
“Not occupied by an enemy…” Osiria sighed, as she walked back to peer down at the Scrapper Elite’s beheaded body… “And yet… They did indeed survive. And worse…”
“Worse?” Jorien scoffed. She glanced up, seeing Soldier Dummies moving over the dune, no doubt to scavenge and reclaim what they could from the Scrappers around them…
“...please, Osiria. Tell me how a situation like this could be worse…”
“Simple, Jorien.” muttered Osiria. Jorien came to stand next to her, looking down at the headless body as it was flipped over…
“They did not survive in these numbers…” Osiria said… Then she lifted her foot and crushed the rounded middle of the Scrapper, causing it to spill open… and a half made Scrapper Newborn tumbled out…
Jorien’s eyes narrowed in shock. Osiria’s narrowed in what could only be described with fury…
“...they’re BREEDING… And if indeed they can make Newborns as strong as that Princess…”
Osiria finally lifted her head, and met her sister’s gaze once more…
“...We may have a war to fight.”