The Starlight Lancer

Chapter 112: The Throes of Hatred

"Minds can be changed—hatred, undone within a heart."

—Philosopher Jorava Fetemer

Zaina sighed. There's no time for this.

She glanced back toward Sivanya, figuring her only option left was knocking some sense into her. Now was the perfect time—she was crossing a metal walkway to get to a set of crooked stairs carved out of the mountain. Zaina took a deep breath and jumped toward her, aiming her boot at the mining mech's head. It connected with a sharp crunch—vibrations from the impact ran up Zaina's leg and spine, though her armor blunted the worst of it. Her momentum was enough to knock the mining mech onto its back. The head covering fell ajar, exposing Sivanya's face.

Zaina pointed toward the advancing army on the horizon. "The real enemy is here! If we stand any chance at surviving, we have to fight together!"

The mining suit clumsily stood while its pilot replied, "There is no we. You're a lancer—you are the enemy, Zaina."

"I'm not," Zaina said. "If you would listen for one second, you'd see I'm on your side!"

Sivanya's eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. "How am I supposed to believe you after everything you lied about! You lied about your mark, where you got it from—you must really hate us, to have gotten that tattooed. If your cause wasn't so twisted, I'd admire your dedication."

"It's not—Sivanya, look at yourself! Look at your people! They need you right now! Down there with them, fighting—not up here fighting someone who's trying to help you!"

Sivanya leaped forward and swung, but Zaina jumped in time to avoid being bisected and activated her rocket boots to float to the next platform. Below, the mining mech had cracked the stone stairs, and was in hot pursuit.

Zaina used her rocket boots again, jumping two platforms up. She jumped to ascend to a third, but a thrown pickax struck her leg, damaging one of her thrusters and knocking her off course. She activated the other one, but it alone lacked the power to lift her—she tumbled to the platform below, a sturdy-looking wooden disk. The metal platform above, only about twelve feet up, was much more haphazard-looking—it seemed heavy and ready to collapse at a moment's notice, and it was supported by two rusty metal poles sticking out of the mountain.

Zaina had barely gotten upright when Sivanya climbed onto the same platform. In the mining suit's hand was a massive pipe she had ripped out below.

"Use all your little lancer tricks you want," she menaced. "They won't save you. I've seen them all before, and I'm still here."

"While we're fighting, they're getting closer," Zaina said, exasperated. "We can't afford to—"

"You can stop lying now," Sivanya said. "You can stop pretending like you care what happens to us. Like you don't want this to happen. At least do me the kindness of being honest now that we're at the end. This whole act is only making me despise you even more."

Zaina glanced toward the advancing army—they had stopped a few hundred feet or so from the defensive line, and were waiting; the only movement came from an advancing tank with a gun six times the size of any others, and the infantry and smaller tanks moving to get out of the way of the behemoth.

Someone had to warn the enclave—Zaina shouted as loudly as she could, "Get out of there! Retreat to the temple!"

"Don't you dare try your tricks on them—this is between you and me!"

Sivanya surged forward. Zaina tried to jump away, but Sivanya predicted it and threw the pipe—it perfectly struck Zaina's already-damaged leg, shattering the broken rocket thruster and piercing her armor. A sickening crunch, metal and bone alike, flooded Zaina's ears in that moment, then vanished. A shocked gasp ripped from Zaina's throat as she landed on it and collapsed onto her stomach. Only then did the pain arrive through a haze of shock.