RP: ISC Phoenix [Side Job] Beautiful Erasure

"The armors are just guards; they probably aren't with them. If they are, we'll figure it out."

Yuna tried to ignore the far-too-familiar-acting nip to her sensitive ears. Of course the chubby skank was all buddy buddy now.

As long as she has it where it counts.

"What matters is we get Sesshoseki where she needs to be — in front of SOLOMN, not getting fucked on by ice bitches." She found her mind's eye staring at a certain Taisa of cold repute, and echoes of "SAVE THE EMPIRE" thundered through her head.

Fucking Empire ain't'a'gonna'be saved if ice bitches don't do the fucking job.

She hurled queries at the base AI again, wanting to know what Daisy squads were on duty and to whom they were assigned, as well as dossiers for those individuals. Information was going to be key.

The progression through the facility was predictably nothing worth remembering, the facility designed specifically so that everywhere looked much like everywhere else an ages old tactic to confuse and disorient unwelcome guests. Fortunately such designs did little in the face of an AR overlay, a metaphorical twine in the labyrinth complete with cheerful distance counter; 100m, 50m, 25m, 10m...

As they arrived within sight of their destination it was apparent that curiously the twinned DAISYs were absent, or at least not visible. On the other hand immediately visible stepping through the door of their intended goal was the blonde Nekovalkyrja a smirk on her lips contrasting with her perpetually scowling eyes. As she turned toward Sakamoto and Hirasawa something new occurred, as her eyes widened and a look of horror overcame the woman briefly, apparently they were not a part of whatever thoughts, plans, or contingencies that had gone alone with the vulture like theft of a small blue package.

Composing herself in a manner that was more suitable of a professional the Nekovalkyrja started to demand just what the two field agents before her thought they were doing. It seemed that with a few meters between herself and the approaching women she felt that she was still in control of the situation.

"Ready up."

It was the only thing Yuna could think of to send to Sakamoto. She wasn't real SAINT; she had no history with that phrase. Yuna hoped it got the point across.

The badgering ice cat had so much to say. If the Daisy armors were around in any capacity, they should have followed SOP and tried to detain Yuna and Sakamoto by then. Allowing hostiles to approach your commanding officer was just unprofessional.

The thing that overwhelmed Yuna was the lack of balls. Not professionalism, standards or plain sense. It was the absence of any cojones on the part of this ice cat and her wayward bitches.

She knew their type. She hated their type. Military slurs could be spoken with light-hearted tones to the right people, but Yuna reserved them for those who deserved the pejorative nature.

This cat was a POG of the worst sort. Yuna felt her blood sing with that statement. Honeybitch thought she was in control, that Yuna was just some stupid dog off her leash. Words would work, wouldn't they? "I order you to step off, Heisho!" Solved.

Yuna's plan was simple. She did not have mad Samurai skillz or the strange abilities of the Special. She had fists, feet --

And some serious fucking fury.

Yuna closed as close as the ice cat would let her, then she would whip out the ol' 1-2 -- a suckerpunch left jab to the nose to disorient, and an Eihei-grade right hook to knock honeybitch out harder than a mag's worth of stun beams.

Yuna didn't even smile. If the Daisy armors cut her down, whatever. Putting the cat down ... that would be her part in getting some justice for Sesshoseki.

'Thank you Yuna. Somehow, dealing with Jiyuu crumbling down on top of my head was much easier than this,' Sakamoto admitted.

With little time to mull it over, Sakamoto instead steeled herself; there was no time for thinking. The moment one of the guilty came into view, the Jiyuuian let her partner do all the 'talking' as she did something perhaps far more important. Focusing her mind, the Nekovalkyrja bombarded the guilty with endless static noise. 'Nekovalkyrjan Telepathy' was deceptively named - it was nothing more than encrypted radio emitted from an organ inside their bodies. True telepathy was rare to the point of being myths and legend. Jamming this other person's radio was imperative, as was making sure she did not escape. Eschewing her silenced pistol this time, Sakamoto reached for her NSP and set to stun.

The moment Yuna finished pummeling her, Sakamoto intended to ask just where they had her - no, their - charge, and what they were intending to do with a smile.

The Nekovalkyrja's eyes widened as Yuna closed the gap, and owing to the reflexes of her species she managed to duck out of the way of Yuna's leading left jab, directly into the following hook. The impact was much harder than Yuna had intended, the Neko's own speed and strength opposing Yuna's fist crushed the cartilage of the Neko's left elfin ear, something burst, and the follow through on the blow trailed flecks of hemosynth as the Neko momentarily stunned rag-dolled long enough to rebound from the wall of the corridor opposite the door that she stood before, effectively placing her square before Yuna once again.

Between Sakamoto's active jamming, and the empty eyes of the staggered Neko it didn't seem like she'd have much of a chance of communicating through any means, especially not if Yuna's attentions continued. At that moment the choice had to be made to either let the beating continue, or to extract the information desired sooner than later so as not to risk robing the Neko of what little wits she naturally possessed.

Hit first. Talk third.

Yuna went for a body blow, wanting to be sure the Neko was not just dazed, but without any fight in her. If the Neko responded appropriately, information would be extracted. Time was of the essence, but a thorough job was a job done right.

The two fighters began their duel, totally enraptured in their deadly dance.

It was just Yuna, and the blonde Neko. Nobody else. Nevermind that incessant buzzing in her ears and her telepathy's malfunction. Unseen, Sakamoto weighed her options, a finger placed against her chin in thought. She didn't repeat her earlier mistake and brought her NSP along. But did she want to use it? The weapon was not the quiet type. Yet, the silenced 10mm she had with her was very discreet. Save for all the blood of course. The same went for her vibroblade, minus the sing-song note it tended to make. As the opening blows were thrown, the Jiyuuian settled for strolling behind the enemy and, waiting for the right moment, kicking her. Several times over. Angrily. First at the back of her knees, then at any piece of the Neko she could get.

It didn't matter that her attacks were graceful; they flew with burning fury more fitting a raging Nepleslian.

A hollow meaty sound filled the corridor as Yuna's fist hammered the muscular wall of the Neko's stomach, a toned build that was probably undeserved by the woman who was lifted into the air only to be on the receiving end of a pair of follow up blows, earning a whimper along with a muted pop as one of her lower ribs cracked. Intent on taking the fight out of the SAINT Neko before it even began, Yuna was understandably distracted when Sakamoto's kick came from behind thrusting the Neko suddenly into another of Yuna's hammer blows compressing the Neko's chest and leaving her to cough up a fine spray of blood.

Between the two incensed operatives the Neko endured a beating that would have likely killed a Nepleslian, though thankfully the subject of their affections was not one. Their kind was built to last, and even the newer models could have sustained much more damage than they had given out, none the less the fight was sapped from the body between them, the Neko lolling back and forth like a rag doll, alive but for the moment unresponsive and unable to even give the illusion of trying to defend herself against the hammer and anvil that she found herself between.

It was then that Sakamoto realized that, maybe, maybe she should have just given her some gentle love taps.

This was a threesome after all, and given how inexperienced and cocky the blonde Neko seemed to be, being gentle was the prudent thing to do. However, there was a point that they should have stopped, and they were well past that point. So now, the only logical thing to do, was keep on going and see what would happen. Reappearing, Sakamoto reached into her Kimono and pulled out a small, black paper tube with red print on it that read, 'WAKE THE FUCK UP!', accompanied by many other crass statements regarding endurance and energy, how it'd revive people who have been through non-stop 'sessions', or were knocked out cold in the boxing ring. Nevermind the small, fine print stating it was ammonium carbonate, or 'smelling salts'.

"Wakey, wakey!~~~" Sakamoto cheerfully sang. If she had her way, this Neko's suffering would not end here. Chances were though, if she didn't wake now?

She wouldn't wake up ever again.

Unsurprisingly given Nekovalkyrja construction, and that her abuse had been done with fists rather than automatic firearms a hand came up to slap away the source of the irritating scent. Whimpering and trying to squirm her face away from the tube, the blonde proved to have been defeated more from her spirit breaking than any physiological damage. As her eyes fluttered open they fixed upon Sakamoto, then Hirasawa's hemosynth splattered form, and she let out a sound that started as a scream and died in her throat as a pathetic mewl.

It was clear from the Neko's eyes that she was horrified that her circumstances weren't just a bad dream, and that she was living the undeniable nightmare of being in the hands of what she believed were insane and belligerently violent entities. Flinching with every small motion that Sakamoto and Hirasawa made the Neko continued to whimper quietly eyes wide, and pleading hoping that there was something, anything that would keep her from enduring the hell she had been put through again. After all what had she done to deserve such cruelty?

Yuna didn't acknowledge how she looked. She reset her ears after the deafening scream and hauled the Neko up by her uniform collar.

"My subject," she sent. "I want her location and her cleared back to my custody, or suh help m'h Yui I'll fuckin' pummel you into paste."

In vain the Neko tried to avoid Hirasawa's grasp, and once caught in it she made a sound that was typically only found in cat videos on the internep, notably she didn't make any attempt to struggle or fight once lifted up. As she received Hirasawa's message her eyes widened as if she couldn't believe that all of this, everything that she had suffered was over something as inconsequential as the deserter who had been brought in for processing. Why should she go through this because of something like them? Swallowing awkwardly the Neko recovered slightly and pointed with a trembling arm at the door that she had just stepped through moments before Sakamoto and Hirasawa's arrival.

It seemed they were much closer to their goal than they realized.

The screams might as well have been music.

"Ara~~~ You poor thing," Sakamoto's voice softly caressed the amateurish Neko, her smile soothingly warm, yet somehow utterly mocking with an angry fury.

"You had no idea this was a big deal, did you?" she soothingly asked, reaching into her kimono again. This time, she brought out perhaps one of the simplest, but most important tools of the trade. A zip tie. But not any zip tie. A zip tie made with modern materials, a polymer that'd gladly shear off a person's own hands before it broke from a bit of struggling and tussling. Quickly but gently placing it on the beaten and bruised Neko, she made sure that their captive would follow whereever they went, one hand on the POG, the other hidden behind her and on an NSP.

"More importantly, any surprises on the way to our charge?" the Jiyuuian sweetly asked, the words far more threatening than the NSP held against the Neko's back. Sakamoto hated, hated, hated Yamatai for this. This utter incompetence, this arrogance, this stupidity that ruined lives without so much as a single thought for all those out there. Sometimes, she wanted Yamatai to burn, but deep down, knew it was just as wrong as all of its crimes. Instead, Sakamoto would work, tooth and nail to make Yamatai great again, one piece at a time.

But she had to start here.

"On the way?" The Neko echoed in horrified disbelief, "She's in the room on the other side of the door. It's a door, you get clearance from the AI, it lets you in, you see the deserter."

It was at this point that something seemed to tick over in the battered Nekovalkyrja's mind, bruised but healing, her arms bound behind her back with a cruelly simple evolution of restraint systems, and finally the uncomfortable presence of a gun at her back. Where there had been some fear, and disbelief, hysterics started to bubble up from within and she started to babble, "What do you think this is? Some sort of evil overlord's fortress? I didn't even know the deserter existed until I was informed that she was being brought in to the base. What was I supposed to do in the twenty minutes before we picked her up? Construct a chamber sealed by magical crystals, held by twelve demonic generals in their own themed dungeons? All before you can reach the final trap laden corridor that will eventually lead you to the most worthless princess in the Empire?"

The Neko started to laugh, then she choked and started to sob, eventually settling with a wet, ugly noise born of an incapability to rationalize how business as usual had gone so horribly wrong, in the least expected way possible. She could have handled the advent of an enemy of the Empire showing up, but being beaten down by a pair of field grunts on a quest to recover a useless nobody? That sort of thing just didn't happen.

"What I think this is," Yuna said as she grabbed the Neko and started hauling her forward with them, "is a misunderstanding of how we work."

They approached the door. She shook the Neko rather hard with the grip she had on the Neko's arm, as if to compel her to open the damn door like she asked.

"You're supposed to work for me. 'Stead, you been acting against me. Shouldn't do that."

"Now open the door n'clear the subject back to my custody. Stop with the fucking hysterics."

Sakamoto let out a girlish giggle.

"It's as she said. You were to do nothing. After all, we're SAINT. Yamatai's intelligence agency. There's procedure to follow, papers to fill out, regulations that need to be met. All just for a simple transfer of captives between handlers even. You know all this, had to memorize each line of our manuals and rules after all." The woman leaned in close to their captive, her sweet words gently tickling her feline ear with a husky, comforting warmth as she spoke, "Since none of this was done, well, shouldn't that tell you that you've gone rogue?" Sakamoto let that imaginary knife slip into the Neko's chest and slowly, slowly sink into her panic-beating heart, shredding itself against the chilling metal. After all, regulations were clear on the matter. Normally, this would be left to arbitration, but when there was clear risk of damage to one of their 'subjects', and a higher authority was slow to respond? Immediate intervention was permissible.

After all, who else other than rogue agents would break regulation like this? The military was all about order, and SAINT was no exception. The loose cannons of the past like these glory-hound POGs were no longer appreciated - too much shame and embarrassment had been brought to Yamatai's name thanks to such figures already.

"I'm sure her body can shield you from at least a few NSP bolts Yuna-san, so feel free to use her. I'll be opening the door once you're ready." With that all said and done, she faded away, doing just that at her partner's signal.

Cowed into silence both by Hirasawa's direct answer, and Sakamoto's more suggestive explanation of her circumstances the Neko choked out a request to open the door to the holding cell as requested. Much to the disappointment of the Neko's minders there was no surprise flurry of NSP fire to cook their captive turned meat shield alive, instead there was merely a dim room lit by an active flickering volumetric display on a console to the right of the room. In the centre of which was the slumped diminutive form of Sesshoseki Tamamo strapped to a SPINE chair.

Even in the poor lighting they could see her, propped on the SPINE interface chair, straps hugging her otherwise nude form, still a torso, the trauma so extensive that while the bleeding had stopped her limbs hadn't begun to heal. Her torso was a darkened mottled mess extensive bruising, notably deformation of her chest could be seen indicating that her ribs were broken. With her head hanging forward they couldn't see her face, however the ruined holes where her ears had been, as well as darkened patches where hemosynth had mixed with her butchered hair made it clear that she hadn't been spared any sort of damage there.

With a glance it would become clear that a log was updating on the volumetric display, detailing the status of the SPINE connection, as well as the activities of the computer that Hirasawa, and Sakamoto's charge was hooked up to. After a moment the blonde Nekovalkyrja that they held started to babble once again pleading with Hirasawa and Sakamoto, promising that she had just handled the computer work and, desperately trying to convince the pair that it was the other woman who had done the physical damage. In her renewed desperation their captive forgot her bindings and the sound of hemosynth spattering against the floor provided a quiet counterpoint to her exhausted sobbing.

" ... "

The sobbing had reached the point of intolerableness. Without a change in her expression, Yuna moved her arms in a way that put their Neko prisoner in a sleeper hold. All of her strength as an NH-33 firmed the operative into a position that would use its last breath, if necessary, to put the prisoner to sleep.

And shut her the motherfuck up.

Yuna, thankfully, could multitask. "Can you disconnect Sesshoseki and get her prepped to get out of here? I don't want to get into the computer and reset her brain to zero."

"Tamamo? Can you hear me?"

Time, for her, had passed far more quickly the moment the portal began to open, the world coming to an unnatural crawl. It hurt her to see Tamamo like this, literally and figuratively. Nekovalkyrja were made all too human after all. Mentally and physically. Things only went back into proper motion the moment she was certain it was safe.

"It's like. It's like they did this to...give themselves a pat on the back, to feel good, and then just left," Sakamoto spoke, hands gracefully dancing across the console. It honestly looked like the younger, blue Neko had been left to bleed until she couldn't bleed anymore, her severed limbs likely discarded or destroyed. A part of her wanted to find and reattach them, but another hoped their SAINTly foes weren't THAT incompetent, leaving them around in a refrigerator or something. "I can get her down from there, easily. Though, you know Yuna-senpai, the dumb blond won't fall unconscious for another good, oh, ten minutes. Max." Having gleefully pointed that out, she looked over Tamamo's readings, face souring. "So, while we take Tamamo to the infirmary, why don't we have her lay here instead? Unless...you want to keep hugging her?" Sakamoto lustily asked, her gaze falling upon their incompetent co-worker.

As Tamamo's SPINE restraint properly unlocked, so did the medical storage here; the grav-gurney was just one of many things that they needed. The other was armor. Power armor. If the rogues were looking for a fight, they were going to get one.

"Shall I also send a request to have a pair of AMES guided armors wait for us at the infirmary as well? We might just need them," Sakamoto sweetly asked. "The ones back aboard the ship should still be obedient if the ones here on the station are tied up in paper work. She wanted her pound of flesh. She knew it wasn't wise to chase for it, but, if it just happened to fall into her grasp?

She would rip and tear.

With a choked noise that might have been the Neko asking 'why?' the blonde struggled for a moment, her strength flagging as the flow of hemosynth was cut off from her digital brain and through the wonders of questionable physiological construction the bioweapon began to slump in Hirasawa's arms. As the Neko's arms hung limply the trickle of hemosynth from her cut wrists already slowing as her healing kicked in, it seemed that for this round Yuna's results had proven Sakamoto's warning unfounded. Had they still been keeping track of their tit for tat competition it might have made her glad.

Unfortunately not all results were as fruitful as the form of their charge turned captive was unresponsive to the telepathic inquiry, their slumped form apparently unaware of its surroundings. A mystery that was answered as the volumetric display reported in response to Sakamoto's efforts to disable the system.


The Kessaku OS reported that components in the computer would require replacement, and a cheerful window decorated with dancing pixel Neko popped up thanking the user for their time.

Distracted by her goal as Sakamoto moved away from the terminal to obtain the needed items from the medical locker, she did not see the twitch of motion in their charge, followed by the slow raising of her head. It was quickly apparent that her face was like her torso similarly mottled and bruised with a ruined pit where her right eye had been, her jaw sat at an unnatural angle forcing her mouth slightly ajar, a rasping breath giving way to panting. Flecks of royal blue hemosynth disturbed by the breathing passed her teeth a jagged mess with many ruined and others missing. Her hair was short and uneven barely covering her hemosynth stained forehead.

A green eye observed Hirasawa before flicking to Sakamoto's back, notably focused despite what she had been through. An instant later her mouth tried to close into a smile that might have been pretty in any other circumstance and she greeted them cheerfully, the digital speech sounding clear and peppy in their heads, "It's good to see you again, I hope you've been doing okay? I think I need a shower... And maybe some food. But maybe I could take you up on that shopping trip soon?"

Before either party could react her torso wiggled from the loose bindings and she lifted into the air, a testament to the better portions of Nekovalkyrja design. Even reduced to a battered torso she could move on her own, as demonstrated when she floated across the room towards those who had come to save her.