Shoi Koyama
UOC Station Interior, Ten Hours after shuttle crash.
Koyama had awoken to the AIES of her suit sending a jolt along her SPINE. The sensation had been akin to being electrocuted. So sensitive. Darkness had welcomed her to its cold embrace as the shuttle's pilot screeched for them to brace for impact. All around her, Daisy and Mindy clad crew had locked themselves to their seats. Armored hands holding tight to Yarvex straps overhead for added support. Something had struck the shuttle's CFS so viciously it had smashed through the protective barrier and speared the reactor. The HONEY CRUSH fusion reactor had gone out without so much as a whimper. Safeties had been engaged to prevent a core overload that would have turned them into a small, bright star for a fraction of a second. The Tanuki had slammed so hard into the hangar's metallic deck plating the unibody Durandium Alloy hull of the shuttle had ripped itself and the deck apart. The scene had been out of some fantasy game. They'd been struck by the hand of a truly angry god.
Her digital brain had shut most of itself off, leaving the subconscious to wander as her Hemosynthetic systems worked furiously to repair brain injury to her frontal and parietal lobes. But in that time... she had dreamt. Of a grassy plain. A staff of golden metal with a gentle curve at the top and a massive white jewel set firmly and cradled within. An orichalcum staff. A legendary weapon for her Archmagus class one could only acquire by pre-ordering the now wildly popular, sector-wide MMORPG of the hour. She'd been hunting. Gathering materials from the area's high-level monsters. She'd been her guild's loremaster, its elixir savant and grand enchanter. The upcoming guild-wide raid necessitates days upon days of preparation. It was then she'd heard a scream, a girl's scream. And the guttural laughter that had proceeded it. The hammer blow of metal on loamy soil had caused a dust cloud.
Now she, Nemethyst, Archmagus of the First Rank of the Order Crimson had run toward that clamor of battle. Seeing a truly massive Minotaur wearing the inky black armor and wielding a too large ax ensorcelled with magical runes. A Death Taker. A new class was recently added with a new update. Along with the non-human Minotaur playable character race. Many on the MMO's creator's forums had expressed anger at the overpowered class, and even more when the two new releases were combined. And Nemethyst, third in command of the elitist but woefully small Debauch Tea Party guild of the game Seinaru Jidai had answered the call of battle and help.
What had ensued had led to a huge upset on the forums. And had started a guild war that was still talked about today a year later. Her class hadn't been known for its physical defenses for it wore nothing but robes or the lightest of chain. She'd always eschewed it. Sticking to the cloth and array of defensive magic. And there she was. A five-foot-tall Elheim, or more in a derogatory fashion, 'Elf' faced off against a ten-foot-tall tank in emberal plate wielding an ax of the same material. Her character, a male of Elheim of too much bishounen looks she had always RP'd with severe Chūnibyō tendencies had pissed the fucker off something fierce to divert its attention from the downed Shadow Thief. Her UI had told her the busty female thief had been level two. Completely out of their element. Her opponent had been a one-twenty. Likely some pay to win shitlord who had shelled out the hundreds of KS to buy the class, and all of the experience scrolls to boost them and its starting gear had evolved with them as a result.
Oh... it had been such fun to teach the likely snot-nosed newbie a lesson in just how the veterans of the game rolled. Death Takers had been on the rise. Broken and new classes always had been. None had been defeated. Always targetting the newbies to the game to grief or in these areas and camping kills to deny others the valuable drops, beast materials, plants, waters, woods, and ore for the various crafting professions. And there she had been. A weak-looking Elheim wearing expensive equipment ripe for the plucking and bragging rights that they'd taken out one of the Tea Party in player versus player. For when two players locked horns, the defeated's items and money invariably went to the victor. And all it had taken to drop this wallet warrior had been a Bolide, a spell that summoned a flaming meteor from the heavens. And just to make it memorable, she... he, for she played a male version of herself in the game had released the stored power of the eyepatch and limiter he had worn.
All that had been left was the kilometer-wide crater and a bright red smear and crumpled remains of expensive black armor. The explosive blast and impact had drawn hundreds of high-levels in the area. And there was Nemethyst, known for not taking shit from anyone standing on the corpse's remains and extolling the virtue of their prowess in a true demonstration for the RP personality Koyama had so carefully and humorously crafted. Striking poses, the best of which had been a hand placed on their face, fingers splayed to partly hide the dark violet eye of her limiter release and the other a wine red which ever so dramatically glinted. Of course, she'd gone for the heterochromatic eye colors. There had been claps, 'Oohs and Ahhs' complete with the 'Holy Shits' and mad scramble toward the remains of her conquest. Emberal was rare. Only dropped in the deepest pits of the local raids or mined in the abandoned shafts of the extreme level mines reserved for the truly crazy or max levelers that required no party. Not to mention the asslord had enough bought potions and accessories to fund months of expeditions in just the platinum currency it could sell for.
Even as her character continued striking poses, speaking in those light, yet concendsending tones of disillusionment, others of her guild had arrived. Surrounded her and declared it had been her kill and anyone who tried to ninja the spoils would face the full might of the Party. In the end, the Chūnibyō caster had offered a hand to the Shadow Thief who stared on in awe and disbelief. A whispered compliment over a private channel, voice different, female, her this new character had, had the balls, or sheer stupidity to walk known to be for the high-levelers and a prime spot for ambush pvp. You fighting a monster? All it took was a PvPer to show up and pop you while you were worn down.
Hinokami, the Shadow Thief had been welcomed as a recruit at her... his request. For everyone in the Tea Party was odd in their own ways. Hardcore lore riders and nerds for which they were known even by standards of the game. A progressive guild and world-first team of just over eight hundred souls in a land of close to a billion players. And later, a fellow player of the guild, and in real life an Operative of SAINT (Who no one knew of this and to this day did not) had data mined the game and exposed that bastard as one of the content and fluff creators. Known for his padding and attempts at making the NPCs and characters within the game more snowflakey than some of the worst anime characters out of Yamataian produced anime. Plus. His fluff was complete and utter shit, to begin with.
Koyama had earned a title that day. Taking down a Death Taker, a world first. 'Death's Mistress.' a teasing joke because of just how pretty her male was and serious in what had transpired. Even earned her a bit of theme music which she could play at but a thought. The game creators had found out who she'd defeated was in real life, and discovered they had abused their position and power. Giving themselves items, boosting the character. And they'd been stripped of the authority to a more public relation role and tried to adopt anonymity in the game. And sweet Chiharu, Koyama spared no expense trolling the fucker into a flaming garbage fire when she discovered whom they played. Payback for all of the ill they'd caused. Bringing her new protege along in the process. They'd exchanged information, and had been shocked and pleasantly surprised they were both in the Star Army and served on the same ship. The pride and flagship of the First Expeditionary Fleet. The YSS Tokyo.
It was a pleasant dream in which her mind had recalled. A defense mechanism she'd installed by tweaking the barest, most inconsequential fraction of the Nekovalkyrja OS. An inherently dangerous thing, and so far up the chain in law-breaking she could likely have been black bagged or broken down to a Yonto Hei or worse. Tossed out of the Star Army and the tender mercies of the Ketsurui or the Zaibatsu. For no one was supposed to tamper with the masterpiece with which the former Emperor Uesu, and Doctor Shinichiro had crafted into a beautiful symphony of sentience and artificial soul that was the beating metaphysical heart of her species.
Koyama feared death. The final death. And had desired a means of even just a few, precious moments with which she could endure that rampant fear if that happened as her body shut down, and mind began to fade away. Her final hurrah. Naturally, the engineer kept this secret. Buried it so deep that not even an ST system could detect without intense scrutiny at the hand of a Kessaku System specialist or Zaibatsu rep. If discovered, it would likely appear as some form of flaw, or quirk of the system in her case. And she prayed that never happened. That first and only attempt at the OS had been little more than a microscopic graft atop the swirling mass of bio-engineered and chemical code of the brain. The system was so intricate. So masterful anything further scared the living shit out of her for it was her own life and soul she had played with.
Her mind had become dimly aware at the electric jolt to her SPINE with the fading of the dream, the AIES sending another, and another. The suit, her suit waking her up as the hemosynthetic blood pumping into artificially grown veins crawled its way through her brain's tissues. Repairing the damage done. Her suit's fleshy insert had cushioned a lot of the impact, the Zesuaium having no give for that most magic of metals neither bent nor broke. But somehow... somehow it had in a way done so. For Koyama, Shoi and Engineer had blacked out at the impact and end over end of her shuttle's crash. No braking thrusters. No shield to cushion it. Just the scream of the pilot as the transparent Durandium of the cockpit window giving out and its shards all but decapitating the hapless Minkan pilot. Her name and been Hitomi. An Itto Hei. And now her life experiences up till now would be forgotten. The unrequited crush and confession to the Shoi on the handsome head of their security detail erased.
Detmer, a Santo Juni, the man wouldn't get to hear it as Koyama had urged him to listen to the woman's confession once they had landed. Her digital brain had been brought up and linked to the Mindy's HUD which couldn't hold a steady readout without lines and static running across its display. The AIES running a system's check, text in Yamataigo scrolling across the cracked plane as the lobe responsible for processing sensory input, including pain reengaged. The M2-4 series' verbal unit had been active as her bloodcurdling shriek echoed and fell upon the deaf ears of her now very dead comrades. Pain. white-hot, sharp beyond anything she had felt during her long, first days in training shot through her left shoulder. Something sharp, solid, and with little give pinned her in place. Warmth trickled down the now exposed flesh which wept Hemosynthetic blood. It had gone right between the segmented joints of Zesuaium and had punctured her bodysuit and skin. The Yarvex hadn't ripped but been pressed down to the point the gluon mesh and fleshy Hemosynth muscle insert had pierced her from pressure alone.
The AIES had emitted warnings. The muscle had begun to regenerate as did the torn flesh and broken collarbone once she had gotten free to survey the damage. The shuttle was a wreck and totally beyond repair, held together by ripped, bent, and crumpled supports, hopes and dreams and paneling with which huge, jagged gaps and ruptures allowed her to lookout. Armored corpses had lain before her. Members of the team she'd been assigned to. Limbs, odd angles, necks hanging much the same, or the heads now missing or crushed just as were other parts of bodies. Even with their highly advanced technology. Daisies and Mindies couldn't hold up against ballistic impacts. That kinetic force had to go somewhere. And their might CFS systems had given up the ghost much the same way as a nubile Nekovalkyrja would their virginity in basic. All around her the crackle of residual power in the power cabling had sparked and spurted before being snuffed out as those last vestiges of energy were blown out like a guttered candle.
That scene of death and destruction had been ten hours ago. Bled almost dry, her armor damaged, emitters functioning still but with that random chance of malfunction or death constant reminders that she'd survived. But in such a way she was hampered, crippled. Injured and alone amidst a horde of Kuvexian forces roaming the station like flies on a carcass. It was an old UOC station. Nonetheless, a place from which any sort of action could be launched from. And Koyama was smack damn in the middle of it. The Heavy Aether Pistol maglocked to her thigh, and Aetheric SMG strapped to her back had been scrounged from the brutalized remains of her team. The weapons at her hips had been her own. All of them worked, but dependent on her suit's generator to provide an endless supply of generated supply of energies. Her generator wasn't fully functional. Damaged. Working only a little above fifty-eight percent in a state of possible shutdown or overload depending on just how much strain it was under.
It was a constant struggle for her suit's computer and herself to keep the thing together as she moved through bays and halls. Shadowing Kuvexian armors and soldiers. They had decided no one had survived the crash. But the shuttle's computer had been destroyed beyond repair and mysteriously the power-armored Yamataian soldiers and relief group's units had their AIES locked down so tight and under code only one of her rank, above or someone knowledgable in cracking the seal could.
Already a few "unfortunate" mishaps had transpired. A Kuvexian in the basic power armor disappearing, only to be found dead. Little to no visible damage. No telltale blasts of aetheric fire melting parts of their armor to slag burning the pilot beneath. But very precise spots had been targeted. The neck, segmented gaps along the arms, under them in the armpit. Their arms had been broken in a brutal but effective fashion to facilitate this. All the while they'd been unable to call for assistance. Her AIES had been able to generate EM, and Subspace waves that bounced against the opponents to cancel them out. But each time had been a struggle. The Hemosynth insert had boosted her power projection (Strength) but with not running at peak efficiency it was a very David and Goliath scenario. But no slingshots or rocks. Just the years of intense tutelage under a blue-haired, brown doe-eyed Neko wearing the red hakama and snowy yukata of the elite bodyguards of the royal clan. One who stood naught even five feet tall but wielded her weapons in a whirlwind of death if needed, and other times a cheery disposition when sated on candies and sugar. And four others of the same cut and rank with one in the blood-red of Daimyo.
Injured and weak as she was. A damaged suit of power armor, outnumber and gunned. Koyama wasn't going to be easy meat if she had anything to say about it. That squeamishness cowardliness of a losing battle had been beaten out of her in ways a normal soldier of the Empire, or even those crass, yet ballsy fucks in Nepleslia hadn't. Stubborn pride and a zeal to survive were in the driver's seat now. And by Chiharu, she aimed to get out of this. She thought of that even now, an unhelmeted Kuvexian before her, a hand clamped over his...her? Mouth, an aetheric wakazashi sunk deep in where the carotid artery would have been in a human watching as the light faded from their eyes and slid to the ground.
They'd been a grunt. A baseline trooper with the standard-issue power armor and all that Kuvie desires for shiny things, position, and money on their mind. Their eyes went empty and she pulled the weapon free, it had been off, but the Zesuaium blade had remained. Yet it was now coated with the dark arterial blood of the foe. They had put up a respectable fight. Rending a hole in the side of the Zesuaium plate of her suit and a decent chunk was taken out of a pauldron of her armor from a brief flaring of their aetheric rifle. They were things she couldn't afford to have had happened. But that seemed to be the price of combat... her first real taste of it. All the training she'd had under her belt. Learning from the cream of the crop of guardians to the family with enough juice and influence to start devastating sector-wide wars couldn't prep her for actual live fire. And it scared her to death causing the wound she had just suffered to weep a little more of her precious, artificial lifeblood before it had sealed over.
Already she felt weaker. Her body's resources going toward repairing the damage inflicted and keeping her energy levels up. Her suit's Hemosynthetic muscle insert helped, but if its wearer became too weak, even that wouldn't be enough to be of use. Her AIES alerted her of incoming, the heavy footfalls of even heavier armor echoing down the partially taken apart hall. With that, the former Chief Engineer of the YSS Sakura II disappeared, leaving the kill behind. Someone or something had begun to pick them off.
Yet every time a body dropped that wasn't her own. A piece of her went along with it. Blood, sweat, tears, and the pain brought on by fists or energetic fire. And the fear of the possibility of not making it out alive. For while she knew if she died, her ST backup would come online. Deep down, Koyama knew for a fact, nay, felt that the 'her' of the now would be forever gone. Those experiences, sensations, thoughts, feelings, insights. Lost to death, swept away as inconsequential. Yamataian soldiers had that mystique of near immortality. But she bet her money on them having not contemplated the ramifications of dying on the battlefield and coming back a little more of a copy of whom they had been all that they had previously experienced now gone forever.
She wouldn't let that happen to her.
," the nordic neko silently messaged over an open channel to her comrades as she tried to determine roughly how fresh the blood was by using her infrared vision to check if it was still warm. Meanwhile, she also activated her radar to try and build a more complete view of their surroundings. "There is a trail of blood
."
"
emoji. She left space to either side of the shield so they could return fire.
