Aetheral Space

No words had to be spoken. The ideal strategy was obvious.

Dragan came in from the left, Serena from the right. The automatic's eyes moved independently to follow each of their movements, it's body staying low to the ground, almost animalistic. It was poised, ready to defend or attack at a moment's notice.

They didn't have the time to pummel this thing like they had with the ruin guard, nor the manpower. Thus, they needed to disable it quickly and efficiently. The best way to do that would be to remove or destroy the automatic's power source.

Running around the automatic's left side, Dragan looked it up and down. This kind of metallic skeleton look wasn't standard for Supremacy automata, so it was probably a custom model. As such, he couldn't depend on any half-remembered schematics he'd run across during his time in the AdminCorps.

With a humanoid model like this, the usual expectation would be that the power source and the rest of the vital systems would be inside the section emulating the ribcage, so they definitely weren't there. Most likely it'd be containing non-vital systems.

The only other part of the automatic with room to hold a power source was the skull. That would be his target.

The joints connecting the body and the head, then. He'd attack that point repeatedly. Once the head was disconnected, the body would stop moving as well as a matter of course. It wouldn't be easy, of course. He'd need to come up with a suitable strategy and execute it perfectly, while sustaining the minimum amount of damage.

From what Dragan had observed, there were three primary methods of attack, none of which seemed to have especially good chance:

1. Run straight at it with a frontal assault and provide a distraction while Serena attacked from behind. This wasn't an ideal plan of attack: not only was there a non-zero chance of him getting shot with the automatic's remaining good arm, there was no guarantee that Serena would be able to execute a solid attack in her current state. Still, success was possible.

2. Serena ran straight ahead and drew the enemy fire while Dragan attacked from behind. While Serena could probably normally handle deflecting or dodging projectiles from a single opponent fairly easily, that didn't necessarily mean she was in any condition to do it right now. If she wasn't, the automatic could just dispatch her, turn around, and finish off Dragan. Besides which, Dragan wasn't sure he had the strength to tear the automatic's head off in the first place. Not the best plan.

3. A simultaneous attack with the intent of confusing the enemy response and overwhelming them. This was a bad plan. Not only was it extremely likely that the automatic's systems could more than handle the concept of two attacks, it was almost assured that one of them would be injured - maybe killed - in the process. This was the kind of plan you came up with as an example for what not to do. Needless to say, doing this was completely out of the -

- "Mr. Hadrien!" shouted Serena, charging forward with her grass-sword in hand. "Now! Simultaneous attack!"

Idiot! Dragan screamed internally, charging forward all the same.

The automatic whirled around to deal with Serena first - it's on-board systems were able to gauge the different levels of threat, then. It raised its good arm and fired off a burst of blazing orange plasma, the projectile leaving a burnt trail in the grass as it surged towards Serena.

Serena span, deflecting the shot with the grass-sword she held in one hand while tearing out a new chunk of grass with the other one. The grass-sword burst into flame the moment the plasma came into contact with it, and Serena let it scatter in the wind - turning her new bundle of grass into a replacement at the same time.

The automatic didn't just focus on Serena, however. At the same time as firing on her, it swung at Dragan with its damaged arm. The limb wasn't capable of complex movement in its current state, so the automatic used it as a blunt weapon instead, aiming right at Dragan's head as he ran in.

Just like when he was fighting against Skipper, Dragan didn't have any time to worry about dignity. He threw himself to the ground, almost landing on his face, feeling the metal limb pass over his head.

Serena swung her grass-sword, and the thing lashed out like a whip - snagging the automatic's left arm on the damaged joint. It was like a fishing rod hooking a fish.

She bit her lip and her arms erupted into bright flashes of violet Aether, infusing them with as much strength as she possibly could. Then, she tugged, and there was the sound of tearing metal as the automatic's left arm was fully severed. It clattered to the ground, fingers still twitching weakly.

The automatic didn't even glance at its severed arm - the advantage of a mechanical fighter, Dragan supposed. Instead, it continued its defense, letting loose a flurry of plasma fire at Serena with its good arm, doing it's best to keep her at a distance.

Serena darted backwards into the long grass to avoid the plasma, and from there on the only sign of her movement was the very slight rustling of the undergrowth.

Dragan's blood turned cold, his eyes wide.

Idiot idiot idiot! The words were like a looping alarm bell in his mind. Now it's gonna focus on me!

And focus on him it did, even as it fired wildly into the grass with its good arm. With a downwards snap of the automatic's neck, the shining blue orbs inside it's sockets stared into Dragan's eyes. Serena was no longer a reliable target. Dispatching the target in front of it was without a doubt the most logical option.

With blinding speed, the automatic raised it's left foot and brought it back down again, aiming to stomp right on Dragan's chest. Thankfully, he was fast enough to roll sideways out of the way, and the metal foot came down into the soil, embedding itself in there a little. Still, it wouldn't take much effort for the automatic to pull it free.

He'd have to act fast, then.

Dragan whipped his hand out, grabbing hold of the automatic's leg - specifically, the part corresponding to the human ankle. Calling upon his Aether as much as he could, he squeezed, doing his best to crush the limb in his hand like a can.

The metal creaked - just slightly - but it didn't bend in the least. A growl of exertion erupting from his throat, Dragan refocused his efforts. If spreading his Aether throughout his body meant that it wasn't strong enough, then he simply needed to be more selective in his efforts.

Dragan squeezed his eyes shut and focused, trying to block out the sound of the automatic firing after Serena. Painfully slowly, he drew back the Aether that was coating his entire body and forced it to enhance only the hand holding onto the automatic's leg - no, only the very tips of the fingers of that hand.

The sound of creaking metal grew louder - drowned out as it was by the plasmafire - until it culminated in a hollow-sounding snap, accompanied by a smell like that of burning paper.

The automatic lurched to the side, but managed to steady itself with its other leg. At the same time, Serena burst out of the foliage, charging straight at the automatic with a grass-sword in each hand.

It seemed like the automatic was about to turn it's full attention to Dragan, but Serena's sudden charge took full priority. It raised its good arm in her direction, pointing straight at her head, and Dragan saw the telltale orange glow intensifying inside the barrel.

Even with a gun pointed right at her face, Serena just grinned as if that was what she'd been planning for. Immediately, the grass-swords in her hands crumbled and scattered in the wind. Her eyes narrowed, her grin transitioned into a serious scowl.

Violet Aether deepened into purple as Bruno took control.

In the moment before the automatic fired, Bruno thrust his palm forward and the air just outside the automatic's gun barrel began to ripple unusually. Dragan's eyes widened as he realized just what had happened: Bruno had created one of his forcefields right next to the guns barrel, where the shot was about to come out. When the automatic fired, it would -

- the automatic fired.

Colliding with the forcefield, the shot burst while still partly inside the automatics arm. Fragments of half-melted metal went flying in every direction as the arm exploded, and Dragan had to cover his face with his hands to make sure it wouldn't be hit by a stray fragment of shrapnel or plasma.

The automatic, now armless, staggered back - it's previously blue eyes now a dangerous red. It tried to recover, lifted a leg with which to kick Bruno with force like a pile driver, but Bruno wasn't there anymore.

Instead, Serena ducked under the kick, picking up the severed left arm of the automatic as she came low to the ground. There was a flash of violet Aether, accompanied by the sound of screeching and warping metal.

The arm reshaped itself into a metal broadsword, smoke rising from inside it as the numerous internal components were smashed beyond recognition. Spare plasma, too, began to leak from the cracks in the sword's surface. Likely it would only last a few seconds.

But those few seconds were all Serena needed.

The violet Aether coating Serena's arms were joined by twin flares infusing her legs - and with them, she kicked off the ground, moving so fast that she seemed more like a violet line speeding through Dragan's vision than an actual humanoid figure. And that violet line was headed directly for the automatic.

The Automatic didn't even get the chance to move. The violet line passed it - and a moment later, its head went flying off, the neck-joints cleanly carved away, a few drops of plasma from the sword still smoking on its upper torso.

The body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut, and the head fell to the floor. The red lights in its eyes died, and the whirring that had previously been audible inside it's casing trailed off.

Dragan picked himself up and took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the noxious scent of burnt grass. Serena skidded to a halt, leaving a trail of steam behind her as her Aether dissipated.

She breathed out, hard. "Wow. That was harder than I thought it would be! How are you, Mr. Hadrien?"

Dragan put his hands on his knees, bending over as he caught his breath. His Aether slowly drifted off of him like crackling blue smoke. "I'm...I'm fine. I'm okay."

Serena gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up, grinning widely. "That's super!"

The thumbs-up didn't have a long lifespan. A moment later, Bruno took the hand down and plunged it into his pocket, scowling.

"We need to keep moving," he said, stalking past Dragan, eyes flicking this way and that in search of further threats. "You weren't exactly quiet back there."

Dragan frowned. "Me? I barely did anything - you and Serena were the ones sending out the heavy artillery."

"Exactly," said Bruno, not even looking at him. "You barely did anything."

A surge of anger ran through Dragan's body, turning his blood hot. They were on the run, with more automatics probably not far behind them, and Bruno couldn't resist the urge to indulge this petty grudge of his.

He didn't move. Instead, he spoke: "Okay. Okay. Tell me this, then, Bruno. What is - what exactly is your plan here? We run, we keep running, then what? What happens once you're out-of-action again? Hole up in a cave and hope for the best?"

Bruno sighed. "You have a better idea?" Barely a second passed before he continued: "Didn't think so."

Dragan's hand landed on Bruno's shoulder and he whirled him around with all his strength, forcing him to look right at him. Bruno's eyes were wide - this had surprised him. Dragan jabbed a finger right in his face, narrowly resisting the urge to make it a fist instead.

"Listen, asshole," Dragan hissed, finger shaking from anger, his hand gripping Bruno's thin shoulder as hard as it could. "I'm getting really fucking sick of your attitude."

Bruno scowled. "Get your hands off me -"

"I'm talking now," growled Dragan, and Bruno actually stopped talking for a moment. "I really don't care if you don't like me. I couldn't care less if you don't trust me. I do not care about you in the least. If you have a problem with me, just come out and say it, like five-year olds know how to. It wasn't long ago I saved your life, so don't keep throwing all this petty shit at me. Especially not right now. Got it?"

Bruno glared at Dragan, so close that he could see his own reflection in Bruno's eyes. Without a doubt he could get out of Dragan's grip without much effort at all. Instead, he glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with being challenged.

"Fine." He pretty much spat out the word.

Dragan let him go and Bruno staggered backwards, rubbing his shoulder. That had felt good. A wonderful bit of schadenfreude from the annoyance Bruno had become in the last few days.

"So," he muttered, after a moment or two. "What is your plan, then?"

"Waiting is a loser's game," replied Dragan, kneeling down and picking up the automatic's fallen head with both hands. "We’ll come up with a strategy, isolate that Special Officer, and take him out ourselves."

Bruno raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are we supposed to do that?"

Dragan smiled grimly, looking down at the skull in his hands. It was the latest gear for his clockwork-in-progress.

"We know our enemy."