RP: ISC Phoenix [Side Job] Beautiful Erasure

Once again Tamamo found that her circumstances were well out of the realm of her predicted parameters. At no point had she expected that between dredging up memories that she would be forced to watch one of the few seemingly kind Nekovalkyrja that she'd ever met suffer. Even with her regret and helpless desire to ease the needless suffering Tamamo couldn't help but wonder when had the observations of Kari's mind become a conversation. Studying her companion across the glowing sphere once more Tamamo listened carefully to the question and found that her answer was unfortunately not simple, still she replied honestly.

"There is a certain... Satisfaction in aiding those that need it, protecting those who can not do so for themselves, and ensuring the prosperity of the people. Part of why I have remained with this mercenary outfit as long as I have, the reason I have continued to aid them even after I felt I repaid my debt, aside from knowing death awaited me back with the Star Army... Was that they help the people, with no ulterior motive. To this end I can say with honesty that I would be able to act with pride to ensure the safety of the people of the Yamatai Star Empire..." She paused, the seconds drawn out as she considered how to continued, "I however have no desire to fight for the profit of others. That is to say I will serve to aid others who need it. I will not serve to further the political goals, gains, or general machinations of individuals in power. I will not fight to feed greed, nor will I fight to slake a desire for power, prestige, or blood lust."

Holding her silence now, Tamamo waited to see how the Special would respond. She felt had made it clear that she would not blindly wobble her head, bow, and scrape while chanting enthusiastic agreement to whatever orders she may receive. Now she would see what sort of response she would get, and discover whether the Empire's hidden hand was as corrupt and vile as the Captain was fond of preaching.

The red shrug started to recede at the Special's wrists. It was not pushed or scrunched, folded, torn or simply unthreaded. It just seemed to draw into itself, becoming less and less, like watching a sunset.

Kari's chest rose between the restraining, fading garment. Her nose flared; her shoulders bulged under their keeper. Tamamo could see the creases at the corners of her eyes. She was working at something.

"Combat is not desired," the Special sent. "A watchful presence. One that securely confirms information we have, and at times provides new data.

"We do not seek the things you name. Safety is paramount. Sometimes, it is justice."

The Special smiled as her uniformed upperarms became visible again.

Tamamo blinked. After a moment's pause she replied, "If that is all and the subjects are not... Inconvenient or tedious, then I suppose I have little reason to refuse. As much as my lot has not been that typical of... My kind. I have an appreciation for stability and peace. Contributing to that is not something that I would walk away from." Lapsing into silence once more Tamamo couldn't help but wonder if the passage of the 'red' was truly free of blemish as the visuals would suggest, or perhaps she had inflicted something upon this... Someone, whoever, or whatever she was.

Still, Tamamo was a little uncomfortable with the present state of things. In many way she felt that it had been too easy, and in others she wondered if there were hidden catches or clauses. She supposed she should ask, and clarify... Though she honestly felt that she was better off drilling someone else for details rather than pressing this woman to suffer her presence further than she already had. As much as she longed for her own stability and safety, she had no intention of spreading the misfortune that she had been dealt.

In the spirit of moving things forward, the odd not-quite-a-Nekovalkyrja inquired, "Where do things go from here?"

"To Heimdall," the Special said. "Along the way, those with you physically shall assist you. My part is done."

The Special finally opened her eyes again — solid, bright blood red orbs.

"It has been my pleasure," Kari said —

* * *

Sesshoseki returned to the room of darkness. The lights slowly came on; Sakamoto was in one corner behind her, while Yuna was in another corner in front of her.

"All good?" Yuna asked.

Blinking open her eyes Tamamo focused on the plate that she had been given by Sakamoto and the mochi ice cream in a less than stellar state after being ignored for a time. Picking one of the delicacies off of the plate Tamamo put in her mouth and sucked thoughtfully before responding digitally, "All is good... I believe. The 'Special' said that you were to help me... On our way to Heimdall." Twitching her ears she acquired another bit of the mochi ice cream and it too vanished behind soft blue lips as she remained seated on the ceiling.

Keeping her tails around herself Tamamo maintained her position not willing to give up her perch for the moment and not quite ready to give her full attention to those around her. There was much to think on, and perhaps much to address in the future. Such vivid red eyes, she supposed they were likely meant to be unnerving, but on the other hand perhaps they were merely a symptom? Tamamo had no way of telling, for now she focused on disposing of the melting mochi ice cream. Sakamoto and Hirasawa would assert themselves momentarily, and perhaps the other members of the SAINT cell that had picked her up.

Once again Tamamo was in a state where she was better off saying little and observing, this suited her just fine.

Just as Sakamoto was about to reply, Tamamo moved. Ate her icecream as Yuna spoke once again. Fruity, creamy ice cream soft as though it were just served on a cone flowed into the youngest Neko's mouth alongside flavor, the mochi exterior perfectly keeping the soft ice cream in shape. Truth be told? It hadn't been that long at all. Such was the nature of Nekovalkyrja when they went into such a trance-like state, devoting all their mental resources to this alone. Not that many had figured this out at all.

"Ara, ara. You've returned so soon Tamamo-chan," the Jiyuuian's soft, silky voice replied with playful surprise. "I've yet to inform Yuna-senpai of the many tactical advantages of having...additional firepower," she winked.

Hirasawa pointedly ignored Sakamoto. Additional firepower, the operative thought. Just ... She snapped her partner's neck in her mind and enjoyed the imposed silence, fake and unsatisfying as it was.

"There's not much to help now," Hirasawa muttered, then breathed in and spoke more clearly and pleasantly. "Heimdall is where we have SOLOMN, who will help us better interpret what you shared with the Special."

Hirasawa opened and fisted her hands as she talked, wishing she were hitting something, or someone — not Sesshoseki. The ship was too small to have a real VR room, and with the connection to the Special closed, they were probably in radio silence and running away to Heimdall. She checked. Yup, already on radio silence anyway. So she was stuck on a tiny ship with her partner/bunkmate/would-be molester and she couldn't even exercise or run drills.

The ice cream's scent spread like cancer in her brain. She needed some fruit.

"After consulting SOLOMN, we'll probably start working you back toward rejoining the service group."

SAINT, Hayai-Class

For a moment Tamamo contented herself with the mochi ice cream on the plate steadily clearing it off while listening to the SAINT operative, and consultant speak briefly. For Sakamoto, Tamamo managed to spare a brief smile and twitch of her ears, for the moment taking refuge in the excuse of being silenced by the delicious food that held her attention.

She honestly wasn't sure what to say of the experience, nor was she certain of how she felt about it. So for the moment a brief display of relative happiness was the only comfort she could provide to her friend turned aid worker.

Hirasawa on the other hand once again spoke of a feature of SAINT's structure that Tamamo was not familiar with. She had heard vague mention of Heimdall during her year and a half of training, however what or who SOLOMN was evaded her. It seemed that for Tamamo it would be one of those things that she would merely have to learn through experience. Given her track record that was not at all a pleasant prospect.

Nodding to Hirasawa in assent to her statement, Tamamo soon polished off the plate of delivered mochi icecream completely, taking a small joy in the food before carefully lowering the plate, resuming her position on the ceiling quickly, her tails rippling as they shifted about her body functioning as a symbolic wall between herself and her circumstances. The soft fur the only comfort that she could manage in unpleasant circumstances.

***

SAINT Facility, Ull, Heimdall Orbit

During the trip into the core Yamataian system, Tamamo had spent much of her time in silence, the pretense of trying to anticipate the future more or less given up in the face of her present circumstances. The only break to her relative stillness being the rare response when she was directly addressed by either Sakamoto or Hirasawa, otherwise keeping to herself.

Within her imposed solitude in plain sight, Tamamo noted with a bit of unease that the descent to the SAINT facility on Ull was as she expected, largely unnoticed and heralded only by a simple message supplied by the MEGAMI.

At the direction of the others Tamamo reluctantly displaced herself from the ceiling and like a normal person walked toward the Hayai's airlock and prepared to pass through the umbilical into the facility proper.

Her progress was halted unexpectedly by a small group consisting of a pair of black painted DAISY IIs complete with shields and LASRs, beyond which stood a pair of officers completed a road block of sorts at the other end of the umbilical. The unarmoured and duty uniform clad officers consisted of a harsh looking Nekovalkyrja with shaved blonde hair, and elven ears, and her companion a woman who looked like something out of a teacher-fetish doujin with black hair drawn up into a bun, red horn rimmed glasses, full lips, and the stereotypical beauty mark just shy of her eye high on her cheek. The look was completed by the falsified haughty self important look of someone who thought them-self better than everyone else layered over an insecurity so deep that they frequently lashed out at those around them to reassure them-self of their position and standing. They were ugly.

Tamamo was less ordered and more demanded to come over to the pair. Without even a glance to her companions Tamamo slipped forward away from those who accompanied them, knowing that it would only be a bigger mess if she delayed. In the instant of the request Tamamo slipped forward, with uncanny grace and speed, passing between the DAISYs and hearing their shields settle into a barricade behind her. A moment later Tamamo found just as quickly what was in store as she was struck, her cheongsam torn from her body.

It was unlikely that given her failings that she would have been able to defend herself in the close quarters, however it was clear by the way that she rag-dolled that she wasn't making any effort to resist, as she was grabbed by the back of the neck and slammed against the floor with a muffled whimper. A knee came down on Tamamo's spine while greedy hands grasped her arm, and with a simple twist and a wet pop her shoulder came out of its socket too easily for her agressor to have been human. A shifting and a second pop and her other arm was dislocated followed by the unsettling scene of her legs also being dislocated.

Then a flash of a knife came, scything cleanly into blue flesh and spilling royal blue hemosynth on the floor, earning a disgusted grunt, as the blade slipped between the limbs and their recently vacated sockets, the limbs discarded into a black sack.. In all of two minutes Tamamo had gone from a whole individual to a limbless torso. All throughout the ordeal she had screamed, notably though she never begged for it to stop.

It seemed that her ordeal wasn't over as her tails were also severed in short order before being discarded, her hair was cut, and her ears were torn off. Manicured nails and soft fingers slipped into her butchered hair before a black hood was slipped over her head and the drawstring pulled taut and lifted her like a small piece of luggage before the woman set off deeper into the facility.

With a toothy smirk the blonde Nekovalkyrja eyed the crew of the Hayai before turning and starting off into the facility herself, the DAISY IIs backing up ten meters before turning and following. Before the shock of the sudden event could wear off they found themselves standing alone, blood stains and scraps of hair all that remained of their escort. Whatever had been done, whatever had been decided, it left the fate of the woman that they had escorted to the facility in their hands.

As Tamamo smiled back at her aboard the ship, Sakamoto continued to do the same.

She had seen many things, heard of even more, but this? All this? All this was fast approaching the older Neko's limits. Yet, her will held fast. She would not allow her own weakness to get in the way. Not again. Tamamo had laid herself bare to The Special, and through her, to them as well. Allowed others besides herself to enter her most sacred, absolute territory. Mortal eyes had peered at parts of a young woman - any young woman - that were never meant to be seen. Slowly taking this in, pushing aside her shock, awe and, yes, fear, Sakamoto grabbed and strangled her feelings as tightly as she could, crushing its trachea and denied it air so she could stay focused. The fact was that the person in front of her was brilliant. Gloriously bright. Brighter and more lethally sharp than perhaps any that had come before her, and yet, frail. Vulnerable in ways so few others were. Like an exotic isotope found in places that space and time did not care for, her potency was matched only by the degree of her unnaturalness.

And human beings - their creations such as Nekovalkyrja included - feared what was different.

Sakamoto? She feared the worst, but hoped for the best. Hoped that cooler headed, wiser women were now in charge. That things were changing in Yamatai and in SAINT. Hoped that fear would not blind her superiors to reason. Hoped that things could, and did change. Having done what she could, now, hoping was all that could be done. When the time came for them to depart their ship however, the older Neko watched all of her hopes and dreams stripped, slammed into the floor, and butchered before being bled across the floor like a like a freshly slaughtered animal being dressed for the market. Frozen still, Sakamoto wanted to scream. Cry. Leap forward and stop them. It didn't even matter that Tamamo was so inhuman that she had blue blood at this point. She had just watched her friend torn apart - literally limb by limb - by the most disgustingly heavy handed, arrogant, idiotic, utterly incompetent parts of her nation, and saw all of her hard work and hopes crushed before her eyes.

Yet again. It was all too often Yamatai failed her and so many people, and refused to see, or, even claimed all was right in the universe.

"No. No. No-no-no-no-no-no-NO!" her voice cried out in Yuna and Tamamo's minds. Everything slowed to a crawl as she fell to her knees and burst into tears, her tail held high and bristling into a frightened curve. Ears pulled back flat against her head in terror, she unashamedly wailed in despair and clawed her face, tore at her hair. Collapsing onto the floor in a puddle, she weakly slammed her fist into the ground over and over in despair. Breath heaving, her super-soldier-ribs cramping with her utter break down , Sakamoto tried to rock back and forward and comfort herself, but, curled up so tightly on the ground, utterly failed. The woman wept for minute, after minute, after minute and then quickly lost track of just how long she was there.

It felt like hours.

Nobody else noticed however, and it became clear why when Sakamoto eventually pulled herself together and got up, looking at the tar-slow scene in front of her. Everyone was moving so slowly, they might as well have been holding still. The older Neko then turned to look at herself, standing just where she was moments ago with an expression of shock and disbelief. Having trapped herself in her own mind, overclocking beyond any safe point, Sakamoto knew she was hurt. But this was too important; she needed time, and as the scene around her slowly sped back up, as her digital ghost merged back with her body in her mind's eye, things were once again proceeding at real-time.

"Tamamo! Listen to me! You have to focus on the pain! Wish it would stop - command it to stop!" the Jiyuuian's voice echoed in Tamamo's mind, reminding the younger Neko of their abilities. Yet, what their ears heard was completely different. "Ara?" Sakamoto questioned the new agents aloud at the same time. Head ever so slightly tilted in curiosity and tail raised in a question mark, her ears tall with attention, the feline look of curiosity the older Neko had was completed as a kimono draped hand was raised up to her face. "Then, your bleeding - you have to stop your bleeding! Shut arteries closed, order hemosynth to clot Tamamo! Anything!" the Jiyuuian's panicked voice cried in the young Neko's head.

"Ara-ara, who came up with all this?" Sakamoto's voice flirtatiously asked them all, coyly blushing as blood rushed to her cheeks. "It's just...all so messy!~~~<3" She quivered with glee, looking utterly aroused. They could all see the obsessively affectionate way her pupils focused and quivered, ever so faintly struggling to match one another in size yet failing in their excitement. Or perhaps notice the beginning of a perverse looking nose bleed and see the way the woman licked her lips. Somehow, her teeth looked ever so slightly sharper. It all only added to this image of agreement and wanton desire. "Tamamo - I promise you! I'll give you everything I have in me to help! I swear it!"

Since everyone knew Sakamoto was one of many whore demi-goddesses of debauchery, she might as well take advantage of it.

Nevermind that her eyes were struggling to remain focused and she was seeing double. Nevermind that the way her ears were standing up on end with what looked like excitement was keeping her own hemosynth from spilling out. Nevermind that she discreetly locked her knees under her kimono to keep herself standing.

Nevermind that she wanted to violently defile their bodies and violate their souls.

Yuna just winced.

What a stupid, pointless waste. A silly reinforcement of what was supposed to be power, but really was just bullying.

They had the blue wonder wherever they wanted her; there was nothing to prove. But they did it anyway, because some parts of SAINT still thought like ... that.

Now Sesshoseki was gone. Their promises to her? Busted like some target's neck.

She didn't take in Sakamoto's display. That was a mix of wet grief and a thirst for vengeance, a slurry of emotional, murderous intentions.

Yuna looked at the Taii, who grimly stared ahead, lower lip protruding from her sterly set jaw. Yuna grunted at her, then started marching down the umbilical to the facility.

"Heisho," the Taii said.

Yuna replied with a finger and kept going. "Still my subject, still my duty."

"Heisho," the Taii repeated, more firmly, but Yuna already was near the entryway of the facility and wasn't about to stop.

The bleeding had stopped.

It had all stayed in her raised ears and clotted solid, and her eyes were slowly regaining proper focus. A part of Sakamoto was just glad that nobody that mattered had noticed, or at least, she hoped. Of course, she was also glad that she wasn't bleeding out of her eyes as well. A part of her had to admit however, that it would have been somehow...appropriate for this situation. The woman couldn't quite put her finger on why though, not now of all times. Nor could she quite mentally articulate her thanks to having so much more hemosynth than actual blood, now that she was a Nekovalkyrja again. Acting on instinct and routine, the Neko-Jiyuuian turned her head to their Taii, and with a polite smile, nodded in agreement with Yuna's reply.

And walked down the path alongside her, each footstep silent.

Deep down though? The things that were at the forefront of her mind? The angry, confused, despairing mixture that rumbled like a chaotic storm? Yuna was right - she wanted to destroy them, and not just their bodies, but their souls as well. Destroy what made these people, people. She wanted to take them and rape their being, wanted to savor every single second. And, she wanted to destroy the very thing that gave birth to such utterly incompetent, idiotic, arrogant people as well. In fact, she wanted to toss it all to the Mish - Sakamoto then realized it, and felt shame come crashing down on her shoulders, crushing her with its weight. That was no better than them. Holding a sleeve up to cover her mouth as she continued to smile, a light, flowery giggle could be heard as she followed along.

'Is it no wonder we are surrounded on all sides by enemies, with what Yamatai has done?' she asked her friends.

They all knew the grim, grim answer.

It turned out that Star Army blue carpet made a poor backdrop for blue hemosynth. Still the blotches of darkened carpet provided a meagre trail as Hirasawa and Sakamoto made their way deeper into the facility. Where their charge, and perhaps their quarry had been headed was not clear as the stains led on a twisting path through the often redundant, mostly deserted passages between offices, supply, and utility rooms marked by cheerful standard issue Star Army name plates. As they hurried after a foe that seemed to have already slipped from their pursuit, it was rapidly becoming clear that their trail of dark stains was drying up, apparently Sakamoto's advice to stem the bleeding had been properly heeded unfortunately for the would be saviours.

The trail faded into nothingness a few meters before another intersection, where a Shujuu Android was dutifully unpacking carpet cleaning equipment from a storage closet under the idle gaze of a bored looking chestnut haired Nekovalkyrja sitting across the intersection at a security checkpoint. Were it another place, or perhaps another age, no doubt the Neko would have been idly blowing bubblegum while listening to the latest mix of music carefully composed to ease the hours spent at an infrequently visited desk. With the more visceral and easily followed trail having run dry, the agent and the consultant were left with little option beyond pleading with the facility's systems, or asking people to try and piece together where their objective had gotten to.

When their trail slowly ran out, Sakamoto feared the worst, but hoped for the best.

There were only two reasons why the trail would stop, the first being that Tamamo had finally perished under her co-worker's utter negligence. The second being that the flow of blood was staunched, either by the young Neko herself, or someone else. The very fact that they had even let her bleed all over the floor of this facility, and for so long spoke volumes about what kind of people these were. Thinking about it however, these people that had taken Tamamo away...they didn't even state their orders, or who gave them. Did they? No. Not a word. Were they loose cannons who couldn't stand the mere idea of what the young oddball was? People who were acting on their emotional stake in this matter? Or, was the very person that issued their orders equally incompetent?

That was a thought that chilled her to the core; that this cancerous arrogance and stupidity went all the way to the top.

"Sumimasen," she began, apologizing to the two before her. "Have either of you seen a group of armed personnel carrying a dismembered prisoner and where they were going?" the Neko-Again asked the two politely. "They were leaving this awful a trail on the floor, but it's gone now," Sakamoto added, her ears drooping with the somber mood she brought to them. She wasn't idle while her lips moved, lungs passing air across flaps of flesh either, "With respect, has contact been made with the base administration about this incident yet? It could either be the break we need, or the final nail in the coffin if they're part of this," the woman pointed out to Yuna and the Taii.

That they were so utterly powerless to do anything for Tamamo reminded Sakamoto far too much about the past.

The Taii didn't respond. Yuna got it; it was same spinelessness most officers displayed. Never going out on a limb for anyone that didn't fall in mission parameters; the white of the triangle stood for cowardice, far as she was concerned.

She could pout and stick out her lip later. Right then, she started furiously barraging the facility AI with inquiries as to where the fuck their subject was and what was going on with her.

While she did that, she waited for the very fucking slow desk jockey to get off their plush butt and answer her partner's fucking question. And she expected the right answer, or the fucksack was going to get a right hook.

Seeing the approach of the group, the Shuujuu droid moved her cleaning equipment and then herself against the wall and bowed. The very image of meek subservience as befitted a non-sapient construct in her position. The Neko on the other hand quirked an eyebrow before quickly straightening into a much more professional state as she replied smoothly, "That depends on whether you have clearance. I trust you have sufficient privileges Consultant?"

The answer was cooly detached, as would be expected. No warmth or offer to help out a fellow Nekovalkyrja, merely a soldier doing her job whether that job was the right thing to do wasn't for her to decide after all.

The Ull facility's AI was in some ways pleasantly responsive and in others cheerfully condescending, reminding the Heisho that patience was a virtue and that answers would come as they were available, before suggesting that the Heisho relax and perhaps enjoy a few moments of comfort while the requests were processed. It seemed that for the moment there was no clear chain of command in charge of their subject, and as far as official records were concerned it had not been determined who had direct authority over the subject that had been brought in.

In a moment where time was quite possibly of the essence, it seemed that protocol and red tape were their greatest foes.

"Gomenasai, I was asking you as well," Sakamoto's voice transmitted to the cleaning gynoid. It was important she explore every avenue, no matter how unlikely. With Yuna covering the more proper channels, she took to the people in front of her.

And not kindly.

"Moushiwake arimasen," her dulcet voice apologized to the Neko, the woman's hands clasped together while a smile graced her lips. "I can only hope that our clearance does suffice," she continued, her thin, narrowed eyes opening ever so slightly. Like a predator unhappy with the prey it had found, Sakamoto's slits settled onto the Neko in front of her. "You see, our charge was absconded with by another party, and one without any statement of identity, or presentation of security privileges. As the hands of SAINT, this alone is already a huge breach of protocol. After all, what if they are loose cannons, or worse, rogues?" The Jiyuuian woman, her face and voice ever sweet but eyes filled with venom, casually strode closer and closer to the person who - despite doing her job - also stood in her way. "You see, this is a most grave circumstance," Sakamoto pressed on, the vivid imagery of the butchery, still fresh, streaming directly to the Neko in front of her.

"I know not what their intention is with our charge, and given their most major breach of protocol already, I can only assume the worst," she neatly explained, the wall now pressed against the Neko's back. "Time is of the essence, and I would not want to be the one to...spend it all. So please. Where did they go?" Sakamoto sweetly asked.

And smiled.

Disappointingly the Shuujuu's response was that of a canned, formal apology for being unable to provide assistance, however the Neko seemed to have made up her mind puffing out a breath in a mixture of exasperation and perhaps weariness, before speaking in a tone that indicated she didn't get paid enough to deal with whatever was happening, "They took the left hall, though I don't know where they were heading. Not many people need an information desk here."

The implication of what was probably a make work post was clear enough in her response though she'd answered honestly. Fortunately the inquiries that Hirasawa had put in proved to be much more clear cut, indicating that a charge had been recently interned into a holding cell equipped to process Nekovalkyrja, complete with an isolated computer system, SPINE interface equipped chair, and a myriad of 'tools' of the trade including emergency medical supplies should the questioning get too exciting. Unfortunately however it seemed that the query had been flagged and the AI cheerfully reported that the Ull facility command staff had been informed.

Whether this was a relief or a complication would be seen.

It was cathartic to have just a single ray of hope when there was none.

"If that's so, we'll be on our way then. Arigatou gozaimasu," Sakamoto thanked the Neko, her smile ever polite. Just as she had said, the Jiyuuian made her way down the left hall, however, not knowing where else to go beyond that was troubling. In fact, it was something that should have come to mind sooner, the woman now realized. But why? It was obvious. She was furious, her unbiased position as a professional horribly tarnished. 'I hope you've found something a bit more substantial than what I've wrung out of her Yuna,' Sakamoto's voice echoed, realizing far too late what she should have been looking for to begin with.

'I'm a mess...' the woman realized.

Yuna didn't wait to hear the doorjam of a guard finish her sentence. The base AI helpfully drew a line toward the location of the subject in question -- HER subject, she telepathically shouted back at said AI -- and she hopped on it, squeezing her fists over and over again as she stomped.

Sakamoto was with her, up to the point the hall broke right and she had no further direction. The AI-drawn line in Yuna's vision would guide her and Sakamoto in.

Before she kept moving, Yuna turned and hit one bladed hand into her other hand's open palm.

"Stop." Yuna held the squared pose as he lean frame faced Sakamoto's sex-derived curvature. "Whatever the fuck is eating you? Handle it. Now." Yuna slashed her arms out. "Because we're gonna be killing some agents over this. OK? Send while we go."

The Heisho turned on her heels and returned to tromping along the line.

The moment Yuna finished speaking, the false smile on her lips was replaced by her true feelings.

'Ara-ara! If only I knew killing them was actually a good option sooner!' Sakamoto replied. 'When things get really rough like this, you always seem to know just what to say Yuna-senpai!' the woman admitted, her lips playfully touching the very tip of Yuna's sensitive cat-ear in a thank-you. The Jiyuuian had a smile for almost every occasion, each meaning something different despite what was typically expected of such an expression. This time, what was written on her face was murderous intent. 'I left Yamatai for a reason, and what's happening is precisely that. Incompetence where competence is needed the most. The Mishhuvurthyar were born, and the Freespacers burned in a fire thanks to this sort of thing. It gets under my skin like nothing else,' she freely admitted. There was a whole laundry list of things Yamatai had screwed up big time, and she hated seeing it play out right in front of her. But if what Yuna said was true?

She'd get to do her part and make Yamatai great again.

'Etto...how should we try killing the power armors though? Or, perhaps we'll come back to do that at a later time after we make sure Tamamo-chan is ok?' she pondered 'aloud' to Yuna. There we so many unknowns that violence might be their only course of action. She hated that thought, and yet, understood all too well why the Nepleslians savored it.