Iain grinned at Kyra across the short distance between the two as they squared off. Kyra had never stopped moving, sinuously ducking between the slats of the fence and immediately beginning to circle Iain. The soldier had grabbed a gleaming longsword out of a leather sheath that hung off one of the racks, and shuffled, following her movements.
Cora had seen enough sparring matches between people who knew what they were doing to know there was more going on than it seemed as Kyra slowly moved around the ring. Iain’s feet, despite barely moving him, almost seemed like they were dancing as they adjusted to unseen tells from Kyra’s movements.
“Okay, so,” Cora whispered to Hawk. She wasn’t sure why it was a whisper, but speaking aloud felt inappropriate. “why does it seem like Kyra is a badass? I thought she was an enslaved bed warmer.”
Hawk looked at her strangely, like it had just occurred to her that Cora might not be kidding about not remembering anything.
“Yeah, exactly,” she said, not following Cora in lowering her voice. She shouldn’t have worried anyway, the combatants had focus for nothing but each other. “Pretty common for you blue bloods to have bed slaves that double as bodyguards. Y’all must’ve skimped on who you got Kyra from though. She’s got the skills, but the kind’ve hate she’s got for you? That’s supposed to be well and truly broken out of ‘em ‘fore they get anywhere near you.”
Kyra’s hand shot forward, one of her curved blades flying like lightning towards Iain. Incredibly, the man smacked it out of the air, metal sparking on metal, but cursed as he was barely able to dodge out of the way of the second, scoring a line across his shoulder that immediately seeped red.
Those were not, apparently, the only knives Kyra had on her, as her hands flashed silver again and she crossed the distance between the two so fast Cora would’ve needed her implants activated to really track it. The next exchange was complex, blindingly fast, and decisive. When the rush of motion faded, Kyra had ended up hanging off of Iain’s back, blade curving along the swell of his adam’s apple. He chuckled, tapping out on her thigh.
“Fuck me,” he gasped as the blade left his throat. “Wha’s tha’ now? 32-20?”
“Yeah, but its been 10 since you beat me,” Kyra answered, knives somehow disappearing into her skintight bodysuit. Cora wasn’t entirely sure how she’d missed it before, but Kyra looked like she could be cosplaying a slightly more erotic version of Catwoman.
Probably because when she came out with the knives the only thing my brain was picking up on was DANGER, she thought, and tore her eyes away from the girl. Ogling her would not win her any brownie points, not when she wore the face of a woman who had abused Kyra daily for years.
GOOD INSTINCTS. TRUST THOSE
More than you, Cora thought, annoyed that her newfound mental illness seemed to be sticking around. Can you make yourself useful and tell me how that reaction thing actually works?
DID YOU GAME MUCH?
SCRATCH THAT, OF COURSE YOU DIDN’T
UHHHH….
IT’LL ACTIVATE AFTER YOU PERCEIVE INCOMING DANGER, SO LIKE WHEN YOU DID THAT DOPE PARRY, OR WHEN YOU FOCUS REAAAAALLLLY HARD. YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO FINE TUNE IT? BUT IT'LL TAKE AWHILE. FOR NOW, PROBABLY DON’T COUNT ON IT FOR ANYTHING BUT PARRIES AND SNAPSHOTS, AND IT HAS A MINUTE OR TWO COOLDOWN
Fair enough, that’s already a lot more than Cora Casanova ever had without movie magic.
“Okay,” Iain said, grabbing the longswords sheath and returning its occupant before slinging it across his back. “Let’s see what y’all’ve got in terms o’ firearms work.”
He gestured to a metal door set into the wall near the targets.
“Armory’s there, Linnea should be able to open it up. Take what s’ever calls to ya.”
Hawk put her hand on Linnea’s lower back, all but picking her up as she guided her towards the door in her excitement.
“Woulda thought guns weren’t your thing, with the muscles and all,” Cora stated, surprised by the big girl’s manic grin.
“Bah, a girl can like more than one thing!” Hawk exclaimed. “Plus, you need big guns to carry big guns, and those’re what I’m here for anyway.”
Cora was excited to see what they had available too, although she suspected she wouldn’t find anything that suited her better than the gun in her waistband. Handgun fights just looked more dynamic on film, so that’s what she’d spent the vast majority of her time handling and training with. The excitement mostly came from the fact that some sci fi shit kept popping up, and she wanted to see if they had a plasma cannon or something.
She placed her palm on a reader next to the door, and it beeped and hissed as it unsealed. It was light on its hinges, and swung open with a touch despite being even thicker than it had looked at first glance. If you needed to get in, it’d be easier to go straight through the surrounding stone.
The armory was…. underwhelming. Racks upon racks stood empty, awaiting residents. Only a very few carried any weaponry at all, and it was all disappointingly mundane. 3 pistols, akin to Glocks by the blocky look of them, rested in a rack meant for 12, with no indication they shot anything other than 9mm. A pair of assault rifles of a make unknown to Cora, but weirdly close to AKMs rested on pegs on the back wall, but the boxes of 7.62 rounds below them suggested they were mundane as well.
Hawk scowled at the slim pickings within the Armory, clearly having had hopes as high or higher than Cora herself. She picked up one of the pistols, fiddled with it, worked the slide, then, when she realized she could barely fit her finger into the trigger guard, cursed and tossed it over her shoulder. Cora flinched, but at least the locked back slide implied it wasn’t loaded.
The big girl glared at the assault rifles on the wall, before Cora watched her eyes fall on a bulky shape under a sheet on one of the workbenches that sat in the center of the room. She saw the same excitement that reignited inside her enter Hawk’s stride as the woman rushed over, throwing aside the sheet to reveal….
“Ha HAH!” Hawk roared, hefting the enormous machine gun, “Ain’t no railgun, but it’ll fuckin’ do!”
The weapon she held looked very similar to the SAW guns she’d worked with on the very few war movies she’d found roles in. Sure, it had a few extra glowing lights, and bits and bobs she couldn’t name, but so had the original gun. The important bit was that Hawk was handling it like a pro, running through an arcane series of checks and finding things to her satisfaction. Less important, but still very noticeable, was the effect watching Hawk manhandle the enormous weapon was having on Cora’s traitorous nethers.
Always had a thing for bad girls….
“Ahhh,” said Iain from the doorway as he entered, holding two plate carriers. He tossed them on the table in front of Hawk. “Figgered ye’d be interested in [Bertha], biggun as ye are. Put these on, start gettin’ used to the weight.”
It was pretty clear which vest was who’s based on size, and Cora strapped hers on, going through the tightening and check steps military consultants had shown her. She definitely didn’t miss her boobs right now, these things were not designed with chesty chicks in mind. She noticed Hawk did the same, with similar diligence.
“Military background?” she asked, already feeling dubious about the answer. Hawk smirked at her, smacking the carrier on the chest to check its fit.
“Nah, but not too far off,” she answered. “Led a shock squad for the Street Wolves, probably saw more action than most soldiers ever do.”
“Street Wolves?”
“Damn, that stings, figured you’d at least remember the name. Used to be top dogs in Light’s Fall, till the Chains came in, took us down. Still don’t know where the fuckers came from, where they got their gear, guns and guys. So damn many of em. Destroyed the Wolves in weeks, now the Wolves are either dead, or…” She gestured at herself, then smiled, genuine this time. “Well, guess I’m lucky.”
Cora chuckled mirthlessly alongside her. Looking over, Hawk, she saw a strap out of place along her ribs.
“Oh, hey, let me…” she reached over automatically, getting behind Hawk to yank at the strap, bracing her hand on the giantess’ stomach. Hawk took in a sharp breath as the vest cinched into place, and Cora felt her abs move like tectonic plates under her hand. Instinctively, she looked up at the woman, finding Hawk looking down at her, wearing a look Cora knew very well.
You might not find Hawk on the cover of Vanity Fair, but beauty didn’t have to conform to societal standards. Her features were bold, hazel -almost yellow, really- eyes sharp, surprisingly full lips curving up-
Cora stepped back, giving the kind of cough that only ever covered embarrassment.
“Thanks,” Hawk rumbled, still hitting her with that grin. Cora noticed it was lopsided, Han Solo style, and found that, yep, it just added to the charm.
“Is there a reason people don’t use two of these?” Tania’s voice broke the tension, but looking at her immediately brought it back as she wiggled one of the blocky handguns in each hand.
Christ, I forgot she was here again.
MIGHT BE A USEFUL SKILL TO TAKE NOTE OF
“Whoa!” Cora said, stepping back as Tania flagged her with each barrel in turn as she apparently tried to figure out how the weapons worked. “Tania, please, put at least one of those down.”
The girl looked up at her, a childlike pout on her face.
“Hawk got to play with the big one!”
“Hawk obviously knows what she’s doing,” Cora responded gently, “have you ever held a gun before?”
“Of course not silly,” Tania laughed, acquiescing to placing one weapon on the table. “I get why you Masters like them so much though, feels nice in the hand.”
She held the weapon up, pretending to sight along it right over Cora’s shoulder. She had whatever the opposite of trigger discipline was, as in, Cora could see her finger resting unsteadily against the trigger as she made a ‘pew!’ noise and brought her wrist up in mock recoil.
The gun went off with a BANG considerably less cute than Tania’s sound effect had been. For a split second, Cora could see the bullet exiting the barrel, before time sped up to where it had been during her fight with Iain. She moved through molasses to grab the barrel of the gun, twisting it out of Tania’s hand.
Her perception returned to normal, and she pulled Tania to her chest, hunching her shoulders as the bullet ricocheted around the room with a series of sharp ‘ping!’s. When it finally stopped, god knew where, she glared down at Tania finding the girl clapping and giggling excitedly.
It was a tough display not to giggle at alongside her, but Cora managed it.
“Okay! No guns for Tania until she gets some major safety training!” Cora declared, ignoring the girl’s pout.
“Yeah,” Hawk chuckled, “I’m all for wild cards, but I was real worried that ricochet was gonna end up in my ass.”
“Who the fook is shooting in teh Armory!?” yelled Iain, stomping in, eyes a little wild.
“Accident… right?” Cora asked Tania, who nodded sheepishly.
“Well, if yer through faffin’ about, get out here and let’s see what ye all can do with those.”
A minute later, Iain had Hawk and Cora lined up in front of the targets on the stone wall, about 15 meters away. In the end, Cora had only taken a tac-holster from the armory, now velcroed to the chest of her plate carrier. She’d always preferred that position for a quick draw, and Tyrinno seemed like the kind of place where concealed carrying would be missing the point of carrying at all.
Iain had tried to give each of them a rundown on how their weapons worked, but quickly realized Cora and Hawk already knew what they were doing. His attention was now on Tania, who seemed like she might be being willfully ignorant of gun safety.
As Cora drew, a smooth, familiar motion, and fell into a shooting stance, a red crosshair appeared in her vision, making her jump. It moved with the barrel, increasing or decreasing in diameter depending on how steady Cora’s grip was. It even had a ‘9’ in the bottom left corner, presumably her ammunition count.
Cybernetics fucking rule.
Cora lined up her new sights on the bullseye, her weapon’s weight comfortable in her hand. This probably wasn’t actually a 1911, but it was damn close, and she’d logged a lot of hours at the range with that particular model. She breathed out, and squeezed the trigger.
The target flared red dead center, and she smirked.
Put Cora Casanova in any reality, and she’s gonna be a hell of a shot.
Her next few shots all followed in the same fashion, grouping tight and right on target. She’d just reloaded when thunder erupted next to her.
Hawk cackled as the SAW bucked against her shoulder, gun like a wild animal struggling futilely against the woman’s unbelievable strength. Cora followed the barrel down the range, and saw that, while certainly not the pinpoint accuracy she’d displayed, the rounds were hitting the target, and not all and sundry like typically happened when auto-firing a gun like that. Especially standing, with no steadying technique besides bulging muscle.
Built different, Cora thought, realizing her lip had gotten caught in between her teeth as her eyes traced the lines of Hawk’s tattoos over her bicep.
The weapon rattled as its belt feed ran empty, and Hawk let its barrel drop, sighing in satisfaction like she’d just had a particularly fulfilling romantic liaison.
“Nothin’ like it,” she said, grinning wide at Cora, a kind of innocent joy on her features that was tough to reconcile with its source.
“Uh, yeah,” Cora stammered, finding the sight of Hawk had left her a little tongue tied.
“Well damn!” Iain exclaimed, reaching up to clap the big woman on the shoulder. “Fine control there, though yer lucky the one thing we t’ain’t low on is ammo. Linnea, we’re gonna have to see what other skills this change of heart has imparted to yer, because last time I had ye on the range ye hit ev’ry target but ‘cher own.”
He took a step back to look over the women one last time.
“Ayup, think you two will do just fine on an away-team,” he said with a satisfied nod. He smiled gently at Tania next. “Lass, ye’ll have to wait a bit. Enthusiasm is somethin’ to treasure, but it’ll be a tick afore we get ye the skills to back it up.”
Tania smiled placidly, seemingly happy to accept the verdict. Her movements had an airy, almost dance-like quality as she drifted over to Jocasta and began to help with The Grove.
“Right,” Iain continued, fixing each of them with his gaze in turn. Cora jumped when she followed his gaze next to her and found Kyra had appeared there, casually spinning a karambit. The girl’s hand flashed, and a knife sprouted in the center of the target. “let’s check in with ol’ Mike, see what all needs doin’ out in the city, then get moving. Still early yet, and plenty o’ daylight to keep the worsta Tyrinno at bay.