Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part One (section)

==FINISH HER!==
===A Good Workout===

Venus’s glowing eyes snapped open.  She flicked her finger at the bedside table once, and a tiny digital clock blinked on.  0510.
She rolled out of bed, moving silently.  The distant background rumble of the ship was all she could hear as she grabbed the clothes she had laid out beforehand and slid into the bathroom, emerging fully dressed.  She stuffed a towel and her exercise clothes into a bag and padded over to the hatch, sliding it open and checking that the coast was clear.

It was.  She rapped on Remilia’s hatch once, listening.

“Come,” Remilia called out.  Venus keyed the hatch and walked in.  Remilia was dressed too, and Freya was already shouldering her bag.  “Hey, Venus.  Ready to go?”

“Sure am.  Freya, ready to get your ass kicked?” Venus asked.

“Oh, is that what’s about to happen?” Freya asked, stretching her arms over her head.  “Because I thought you were about to check into the phlebotomists’.”

“Maybe, or perhaps I’ll surprise you,” Venus said, low and ominous.

“Hardly, you need to be ambulatory for Isaac,” Freya pointed out.

Venus tsked.  “Yeah…oh well.  I’ll demolish you later.”

All three girls lifted their bags and walked down the corridor to the lift.  Freya punched in the right deck, and they were off.

The guard outside the gym straightened up as he saw the three Royal daughters arrive.  “My Ladies Primarch.”

“Provost.  Is the gym open?” Remilia asked.

“For you, it is, Madam,” the Provost said, opening the hatch for them.  “The women’s’ lockers are on the far right.”

The trio entered the indicated room, quickly changing into their exercise suits, and dispersed throughout the room, starting their own routines.  As Remilia set up on a machine in the center of the room, however, Freya paused her own setup.  She looked over at her cousin, and mimed running her hands over her forearms.

Remilia was wearing a tank top.  The scars on her arms were plainly visible.  She caught Freya’s gaze and ruefully shook her head.  “People are going to notice.  May as well not hide it,” she said under her breath.  Freya looked pained, but didn’t reply.  It was her choice.  She was hardly dressed conservatively herself, anyway, skintight spandex over sports underwear, cut at the mid-thigh and tricep.  Any longer, she had found, and running was uncomfortable.

Venus, meanwhile, was loading up a leg lift machine, and noted a few more people drifting into the room.  Most looked to be crewers ending their night shifts.  A few paused to stare at their guests, but most simply moved to start their own routines, casting only the occasional glance their way.  That suited Venus fine.

She worked the machine, thinking.  What would she be called upon to do on Nocturne, exactly?  She knew that a few ceremonies were going to happen, inevitably, and she was looking forward to one or two.  Keeping in mind her father’s desire for her to take a more visible role in the operations of the Royal Estate, she was certain she’d be called upon to make an address, something that she would feel guilty refusing.

Venus leaned back for a moment, pausing to increase the weight on the bar a bit as she did so.  “Hmm…what would Mom ask?” she asked aloud.

“Sorry?” a voice replied.  She glanced down to see that a Naval crewman was working the machine opposite her.

“Just thinking aloud, Petty Officer,” she said, noting the tattoo on his shoulder.  Senior Torpedoman’s Mate.

“All right.”  He returned to his own reps, casting a shameful glance at the massive pile of metal on Venus’ stack.  She smiled to herself.

With a glance to see what the others were doing – Freya was starting in on her hauler’s circuit, Remilia on free weights – she resumed her musings.  There was one part of the trip home that was essentially cut and dried.  She would have to appear before the Circle of Masters, for ceremony if nothing else.  Fortunately – for him – Jake wouldn’t be able to attend.  That was for the Fire-Born.  “Or Fire-Seared,” she said, chuckling.

She disentangled from her machine, cricking her back and casting an eye around for a treadmill.  Spotting one, she made for it, and smiled broadly as she noted its settings.  “Excellent.  Treadmills with no sprint settings are shit,” she said, climbing on and thumbing it up.

Freya finished her own run, loping off the treadmill and glancing over the single weights.  Finding them dissatisfying, she made instead for a squat rack, and set about assembling a barbell.

A midshipman wandered up, hands in pockets.  “You need a spotter, honey?” he asked, clearly not knowing who she was.

Freya clipped several fifty-kilo plates to it, not even bothering to turn and look him in the eye until she slid under the bar.  “Not unless you’ve got servos in those noodles attached to your shoulders,” she said, making sure the sailor got a good look at the wolf’s head tattoos on her triceps as she lifted.

His jaw dropped.  “Uh…all right then,” he said, backing up a few paces.

Several decks up, the alarm went off in Alex and Freya’s room, and Alex swatted at it.  He blearily glanced at the time.  “Oh fuck…I hit the hours button wrong,” he groaned as he realized his folly.  It was a full hour before he had wanted to get up.  “Oh to hell with it,” he grumbled, clambering out of bed and pulling some clothes on.

Jake was awakened by a loud rapping on the hatch.  “Whu…who is it?” he asked, noting Venus’ absence.  “Who’s there?”

“It’s Alex.”

“The fuck do you want, man, it’s…it’s fucking 0600,” Jake groaned, staring at the clock.

“Uh…sorry, I thought we were gonna get up and…” Alex improvised as he realized his mistake.

“Yeah, at fucking 0700,” Jake said angrily.  “I’ll be around, let me sleep.”

“Uh…I’mma hit the gym if you want to come,” Alex said.

Jake glared into the darkness.  “No.”

“The girls will be there still,” Alex pointed out.

Several seconds of silence passed.  “Damn you,” Jake half-heartedly cursed, flicking the lights up and grabbing some clothes.

Dressed and moderately awake, Jake followed Alex wearily down the corridor.  He didn’t really work out much, so he was feeling a bit self-conscious, but he was just tired enough not to care.

The guard outside the gym let them both in, and they changed in the locker room.  When Alex walked into the main gym, however, he stopped dead.  Jake nearly collided with him.

“What’s up?” Jake asked, peering over the other boy into the room.  He caught sight of what was happening in the ring – “Oh.  Huh.”

Remilia and Freya were squared off in the boxing ring, and the battle was well under way.  The taller, blond Remilia was clearly on the defensive from the redheaded Freya, and several drops of blood were already decorating both girls’ shirts.  Several dozen crewers and officers had paused their own routine to watch the blistering exchange.

Freya jerked her head back to dodge a jab from Remilia, then ducked low and lurched forward, slamming three quick punches into Remilia’s ribs.  Remilia grimaced and swept her arms aside, brushing a trickle of blood off of her lips.  She lunged forward, catching her cousin by surprise, and rammed her knee upwards, trying to catch Freya under the ribcage.

The spectacle was all the more impressive for its total silence.  Freya was clearly holding back a bit, but Remilia wasn’t even trying to, and that was probably the only reason she was even still standing.  Freya absorbed a few probing blows from Remilia before turning to her profile and leaning back, as Remilia swung her leg in a vicious lateral kick.  Freya caught her cousin and wrenched, sending Remilia to the ground in a heap.  She stood back, arms crossed.  “Need help?”

“Cram it,” Remilia snarled, rising to her feet and settling into a stance.

Confident that they had drawn every eye in the gym, Jake tapped Alex on the shoulder and jerked his head over to the free weights.  Alex nodded, grinning at the rapt attention most of the room was paying to the girls in the ring.  Both boys wandered over to the weights, as Jake hesitantly selected one, hefting it.

Venus noticed what the two young men were doing and smiled, watching as Alex instructed Jake in the proper stance for lifting, which he had promised the previous night.  Apparently the two had decided that with nothing else to do on a warship for three stretches of ten days each, Jake might as well catch up to the others in terms of fitness.

Meanwhile, Remilia returned to dodging a blizzard of blows from her shorter cousin, putting her longer legs to good use.  She pivoted on her heel, driving her elbow towards Freya’s face, expecting her to duck it and open her guard.  Instead, Freya just leaned forward a bit, taking the elbow strike on the forehead, and leaned into the next shot, which slammed into Remilia’s flank with bruising force.

Remilia yelped in sudden pain, wobbling back a step.  Freya shrugged, all confidence, even as a ribbon of blood worked its way down her forehead.  Remilia coughed, checked to make sure that she didn’t have any internal wounds, and put her fists back up.

Freya bared her fangs, feral and bloodthirsty.  “Attagirl,” she snarled, and dropped into a crouching stance.  Remilia spat a drop of blood onto the mat and advanced, swinging low.  Her redheaded cousin dodged sideways, tilting her chest so that the punches rolled off, never taking her eyes off her cousin.  Remilia snorted in contempt, sweeping her legs low, trying to knock Freya off her feet.  She didn’t even bat an eye, bouncing off her feet, keeping her center of gravity level.  Remilia abandoned the tactic, ramming her hand into the ground to act as a fulcrum, and swept her other leg at waist height, catching Freya on the hip and launching her into the ropes.  Freya rebounded, bracing her left arm to catch the expected reprisal shot from Remilia, but Remilia wasn’t there.  Instead, she had risen to her feet again, and swung another side kick at Freya.

Freya clamped her arm down over Remilia’s leg.  “Gotcha,” she barked triumphantly.

Remilia kicked off the ground, slamming her free leg into Freya’s other side.  Freya’s eyes glazed over in pain.  She gasped, releasing Remilia and sinking to her knees.

“What have you got, now?” Remilia taunted, scrambling back up.

Freya cannoned into her, pinning her to the ropes and slamming both hands into her midsection.  Remilia tried to right herself, but Freya ducked low, grabbed her cousin by the thigh and shoulder, and twisted.  Remilia flew across the ring and slammed into the mat face-down, stunned.  Freya ran after her, fangs bared, a red blur in the air trailing her head like a comet.  She skidded to a halt on one knee next to her cousin, eyes bloodshot, and one hand pulled back into an animal claw.

Remilia meekly tapped the mat three times, face still flat on the ground.

Freya’s rough, panting breath was more or less the only sound in the room, as she fought down her instincts.  After a few seconds, though, the red film receded from her vision.  She grabbed Remilia, jerking her up.

Remilia tottered on her feet, blood oozing from her mouth and from a small abrasion on her shoulder.  She focused her eyes on her cousin with effort, her chest heaving.  Freya stared her down for a moment before hugging her across the shoulders.  “Better luck next time,” the pretty berserker said, carefree.

“My ass,” Remilia said, shrugging her cousin’s arm off.  She took a step back and bowed, shaking her blond hair loose from its tie as she did, and Freya mirrored the gesture, to the muted applause of several of the crew in the room.

“If anyone recorded that,” Freya said cheerfully, vaulting the ropes and landing on the ground below with a grace that belied her vicious behavior moments ago, “he gets to walk back to Terra.”  The applauding crewers faltered, unsure if she was joking.

Remilia rolled her eyes, vaulting the ropes too.  When she landed, however, she had to stifle a whimper of pain.  Freya looked back and cocked her eyebrow.  “Yep…definitely a crack,” Remilia muttered darkly.

“Hmm?” Freya grabbed her towel, wiping off the blood and sweat.  “What’s up?”

“I definitely cracked an ulna,” Remilia said, cradling her left arm.

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” Freya said, gently taking the hand and staring at Remilia’s scarred arm intently.  Sure enough, she could already see a little swelling forming under the crosshatched scars on her cousin’s pale skin.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you didn’t, but I should get a cold wrap on that after I shower off.  Also,” Remilia said, grabbing her own towel and drying herself off right-handed, “I am starving to death, here.  What time is it?”

“Around 0700,” Venus said, walking up.  “And damn, Freya, you lost it in there,” she added under her breath.

“How often do I get to fight someone my own level that doesn’t outmass me by a hundred and twenty kilograms?” Freya asked.  She caught Venus’ reproachful stare and coughed self-consciously.  “Well, I’m sorry if I scared you, but believe me, I was in control.”

“Yeah…sure.  Anyway, I, too, am ravenous,” Venus said, glancing around for the boys.

Alex was standing next to Jake, adjusting his grip on the deadweight the taller boy was lifting.  “There.  Make sure the weight is pushing straight down your legs.  Don’t lean, just keep everything below the knee straight.”

“Right,” Jake grunted, lifting from the leg.

“There you go, better.  Now…try it twice, no pausing.”  Jake did so, sweat running down his neck.

“How many reps, you think, now that I have the stance,” he asked tightly.

“As many as you can without having to stop.  Do that many, then rest for a bit, slug some water, and do it again.”  Alex returned to his own weights, glancing over to make sure Jake’s form was proper.  “Eventually, you’ll be able to do more.”

“Right.”  Jake hefted the weight again, then glanced to the side as a flash of familiar red caught his eyes.  “Actually…looks like we’re leaving,” he said, noticing all three girls moving for the exit.

“Ah, all right.  Set it down, then, move from the legs, not the back,” Alex said, watching as his charge did so.  “Great.”

“You guys ready to get some food?” Freya asked, trotting up.

“You bet,” Jake said, setting the weight down and cricking his back.  “Hell of a fight up there.”

“Yeah, that was fun,” Freya said, slinging her towel.

“How can you even be breathing after that shot to the side?” Jake asked, rubbing his hands on his towel.

Freya snorted.  She pointed at one side of her stomach.  “Feel.”  Jake blinked, but dutifully pressed his finger against her bare flank.  Freya tensed her muscles, and pressed his finger back.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“I’m fine, trust me,” Freya said proudly.  “Remilia, however,” she said, glancing at her cousin, who was walking into the shower, “is gonna need a wrap on that arm.”

“Break something?” Alex asked, hefting his stuff.

“Cracked ulna.  She’ll be fine by night, trust me,” Freya said.

All three teens made for the restrooms, cleaning up and emerging scrubbed and dressed, awaiting Remilia.  Venus emerged a moment later, her damp hair still shimmering under the lights.

Remilia herself walked out a few minutes later, cold wrap in place, and the group walked up to the lifts, a few crewers passing them on the way down to the gym.  As they reached the lifts, however, Alex paused.

“You know…I’m curious,” he said.  “What do the enlisted mess and the officers’ mess look like?”

“Well, all we’ve seen so far is the Captain’s Hall,” Venus said.  “You want to try one of the other ones?”

Alex laughed.  “I would just love to see the looks on people’s faces when you three walk into the enlisted mess.”

Jake shook his head.  “If you want to do it, go for it.”


===Sudden and Total Panic===

Remilia chuckled, clutching her arm to her chest.  “Sure, I could use a laugh.”

Alex grinned.  “All right.”  He tapped the call button and turned to face the others.  “Do we know where it is?”

“I do,” Venus said.  “I’ve seen the ship’s layout before.  Four decks down, four corridors to port.”

“Cool,” Alex said.  The hatch split open behind him.

“Ah, there you re, my Lords and Ladies,” Commander Haarlan said, grabbing the hatch and holding it open.  “I was wondering where you were.”

“Oh, good morning, Commander,” Venus said brightly.  “We were just going to grab some food.”

“Very well,” the Commander said.  He inhaled sharply when he saw Freya’s and Remilia’s injuries.  “What happened to you two, my Ladies?  You both look like you lost a fight!”

“I lost a fight, Freya didn’t,” Remilia admitted.  Haarlan looked from one to the other, clearly disconcerted.

“I see…my Ladies, I feel that I must ask if it is appropriate for you two to be fighting one another like that,” Haarlan said.

“It’s a sparring match.  People get hurt,” Freya said.  “We heal quick.  Now…breakfast,” she said.  She tapped the button for the enlisted mess’ deck and the lift took off.

“So, Commander, what do you have in mind for today?” Jake asked, as the lift plunged into the decks below.

Haarlan turned to look at him.  “Well, we have the limited recreation facilities one expects to find on a patrol ship, but they are suitable for a trip as short as yours.  I thought I would show you around them, and then perhaps give you a brief history lesson about the ship itself.”

“That sounds fun,” Jake said.  The hatches parted and the group disembarked.  Haarlan noticed what deck they were on, and held up a hand.

“My Ladies, Lords, this is the wrong deck, I think,” he said.

“I thought the mess was on this deck,” Freya said.

“There’s a mess here, Madam, but it’s meant for the enlisted personnel only,” Haarlan explained.

Venus turned to face him, affecting surprise.  “Are you saying the food the Navy feeds my father’s Legionary crews isn’t good enough for us?”

Haarlan caught himself before he could snap a reply.  “No, my Lady, but the Captain himself has asked me to invite you to a meal in his Hall.”

“Ah.”  Venus nodded reluctantly.  “Right.  Well, that’s fair.  We can try the other messes tomorrow.  Right guys?”

“Sure,” Freya said, shrugging.  “Lead the way, Commander,” she said.  Before he could lead them back to the lifts, however, a pair of Naval armsmen emerged from a cross-corridor, both laughing at something.

“The hell she could,” one man boasted.

The other one scoffed.  “Clean through the wall, man…oh shit,” he said.  He stopped cold as he spotted the cluster of nobility down the hall.  His eyes darted to Remilia, then locked on the bulkhead above the group.  He snapped to razor-sharp attention.  “Good morning, your Highnesses,” he stuttered.  The other man went white.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Freya said, her voice suddenly dropping several decibels.  “What were you two just discussing?”

“The outcome of a purely hypothetical fight, my Lady Russ,” the second guard stated immediately.  He was sweating bullets.

Haarlan was opening his mouth to question the man when Freya suddenly moved.  She marched down the corridor, brushing past both men and rounding the corner.

“Oh, fuck, they didn’t…” Remilia muttered, jogging after her cousin.  “Freya, wait, don’t get mad,” she called after her.  The rest of the group hurried to catch up.

“I’m not mad yet,” Freya said under her breath, rounding another corridor and breaking into a quick trot.  She hustled down the corridor, pausing outside one of the hatches to the mess.  “Let’s see who gets to walk home,” she growled, pushing the hatches open.

The room looked like a theater at that moment, with a whole array of massive holoscreens set against the walls.  Most displayed Salamander Legionary icons or Navy flags of varying description, but one didn’t.  Not coincidentally, it was also the one that had the attention of most of the room, and the one with a shaky recording of Freya and Remilia sparring on it.

Freya stood in the middle of the hatch, staring up at the projection of herself, as the others caught up.  “Oh…fuck,” Remilia said under her breath.  She risked a glance sideways at Freya.  Her cousin was completely expressionless.  That boded poorly.

A few crewmen near the hatch spotted her and rose to attention, or gasped aloud.  Others, hearing their reaction, turned to see what was going on, and their reactions spread like ripples through a pond, until only those right under the screen hadn’t noticed Freya’s arrival.

The room was silent.  Clearly, the recording had been made and shuttled down to the mess while the girls had been in the shower, and was on its third or fourth loop.  Freya took a few silent steps into the room, eyes glued to the display.  On the screen, her hands blurred, slamming Remilia’s blows aside.  Her eyes flickered as her virtual leg rose to divert a kick.  Finally, some frantic whispers caught the attention of whoever was at the controls, because the video paused.  The whole room turned to face the Lady Primarch.

Russ took another few steps into the room, and a clearing emerged like magic before her.  Her eyes narrowed to slits.  “Well…somebody didn’t listen to me,” she whispered.

Venus took a hesitant step towards her, but Remilia’s hand on her shoulder brought her up short.  Remilia shook her head, sending her wet blond hair sliding side to side.  Venus bit her lip, staring at Freya’s back.

Freya sighed, rubbing her brow wearily.  “It’s not even a good recording,” she said aloud.  A few nervous titters greeted her announcement, but they were quickly shushed.  She stared at the man at the controls, transfixing him from across the massive room.  “Needless to say,” she said, her voice carrying over the rows of seated sailors, “if that recording leaves this ship, you do not.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Princess Russ,” the man squeaked.

Freya looked over her shoulder at Remilia.  “Anything to add, Remilia?” she asked.

“It’s not a very good recording,” Remilia said.

“See, that’s what I said,” Freya said.  She turned back to the man at the controls.  “Have you ever seen a Space Wolf angry?  Yes,” she said, cutting over his desperate reply.  “Yes, you have.”  She gestured up at the paused recording, which was showing Freya savagely throwing her cousin across the ring.  “Reflect on this.”  She waited long enough for him to delete the recording before turning and walking back through the hatches, closing them behind her.

Haarlan broke the silence.  “Lady Primarch Russ…I cannot apologize enough,” he said.  His voice and face were pinched with awkwardness and shame.  “I promise that the sailor responsible will be held accountable for breaching your privacy.”

“What privacy?” Freya asked.  “We were in an open gym.”

Remilia shrugged.  “I guess I can’t get too angry either.  It’s not like people don’t record their own sparring matches from time to time.  I’ve done it.”

“If anything, it goes to show what a huge badass I am,” Freya said airily.  Remilia laughed.

“Modest, too.”

“I…am confused, my Ladies.  I though from your reaction before that this was angering you,” Haarlan said, flustered.

“Eh.  It’s hardly the first time,” Freya said.  She started back down to the lifts.  “Like the time at the opening ceremony for the Startseite Public Center, remember that?” she asked.

“Oh man, I thought Dad was going to blow a circuit,” Remilia said.

Freya noted Haarlan’s bewildered expression.  “Listen, I’ll spell it out when we speak with Captain Roemer, all right?”

“As you wish, my Lady,” Haarlan said, still confused.  The lift opened, and the party entered, heading up to the Captain’s Hall.

When they arrived, Roemer was standing behind the table, downcast.  Several of his senior officers were there as well, and the entire scene reminded Freya of a group of schoolchildren called to task by a teacher.  “My Ladies Russ and Dorn, I offer my sincerest apologies for the misbehavior of my crew this morning,” Roemer began without preamble.  “You deserved better than that.”

Remilia spoke up.  “Captain, please.  We were sparring in an open gym.  We’re not angry.  To be honest, I kind of expected this.”

“Like I was telling Commander Haarlan, this isn’t the first time this has happened,” Freya said, sitting down at the table.  Venus took her place at the head of the rectangular table as she had before, and Jake and Roemer took their seats on either side, Jake feeling out of his depth, and Roemer confused.

“A few years back some paparazzi took a clip of me, Remilia, and Furia sparring in the new gym they opened back home,” Freya continued.  She decided to skip the details of what Dorn and Angron had done when they found out.  “Seriously, it happens.  Don’t take it personally.”

“I appreciate your generosity, my lady, but it still shouldn’t have happened,” Roemer said, determined to bear some guilt over the incident.

Venus shook her head.  “Captain, when you get two athletic women fighting in front of a crowd of sixty men, someone’s going to record it.  Let it go,” she said, the vaguest hint of command in her voice.

Roemer sighed, torn.  He hadn’t expected leniency to be their choice, but he was relieved that his brief stewardship would not be tarred on the second day as well.  “As you wish, Lady Primarch Venus,” he said.  “I thank you for your understanding.”

The party dug into breakfast, and Remilia privately concluded that that was for the best.  On a ship that size, processed protein bars would have been they could have expected from the enlisted’s mess.  The spread of veal, fresh eggs, and baked goods the Captain had laid out was much nicer.
Alex noticed that there were no Salamander serfs aboard this time.  Venus noticed the direction of his sight, and arrived at the same conclusion.  “Captain, will Sieur Isaac not be joining us?”

“He wanted to make sure that the special cargo that Lord Primarch Vulkan instructed we carry was arranged for expedited offloading,” Roemer explained.

“What is that cargo, exactly?” Venus asked, picking up a bran muffin.

“If I may, Captain?” one of the officers at the table asked.  Roemer nodded.  “The cargo is a prototype LRMk.15 Punisher, outfitted with a few new Martian upgrades,” the officer explained.  “Lord Vulkan volunteered his Legion to test it.”

“Oh, I see,” Venus said.  “Well, I’ll see him later today anyway, I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, my Lady?” Haarlan asked in surprise.  “After this morning?”

“Bah, if someone wants to record it, I won’t care much.  It’s not like there aren’t entire holo archives of me in swim meets,” Venus scoffed.  “Besides, he’s had it coming for years.”

Jake swallowed some toast.  “What did he do, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing.  It’s an old, fuzzy, loving hatred,” Venus said.

“Ah.”  Jake tried not to look like he was scarfing the food.

Venus finished her drink and set it down, her eyes narrowing.  “Also…we heard something yesterday, Captain Roemer.  Is it true that no Salamander besides me has ever set foot aboard?”

“No, my Lady, several Techmarines were present for the ship’s consecration,” Roemer said.  “However, none have been aboard since except for brief inspections and cargo loading.”

“Interesting.  So…you’ve probably never seen Nocturnean combat techniques up close, have you?” she asked with a grin.  “Isaac taught me for years.”

“You know…if bootlegs are going to be an issue…” Jake suggested slowly.

Venus smiled.  “I was planning on asking Isaac to record this, actually.  No better way to learn your weaknesses than watch yourself get your ass kicked.”

Remilia snorted.  “You can bench-press a car.”

“Yeah, but Isaac’s a damn viper.”

Roemer cleared his throat.  “If you wish, my Lady, you could just have the gymnasium to yourself and have a servo-skull record the bout.”

“Ooh.  Good idea, Captain.  We’ll do that, I think,” Venus said, pouncing on the idea.  “We have…two and a half hours.”

Alex leaned forward, all business.  “What punishments shall we inflict upon people who set it to music?”

“Oh, shut up, Alex,” Venus giggled.


===Beautiful Bloodshed===

The hour came.  Venus and company walked down to the gym, pausing outside the hatch, where small crowds of people were gathering.  Most simply wanted to know why they couldn’t go work out, but a few were clearly hoping for a glimpse.

Venus paused behind the crowd, gym bag in hand.  She wasn’t carrying the same clothes she had used that morning, Jake noted.  She had sent those off for cleaning, and was carrying a few circular containers in the bag instead, plus some green cloth bits.  Venus turned to him.  “Hey, Jake, hon, can you sit this out?  I want to be able to focus.”

Jake nodded solemnly.  “All right.  Kiss for luck?” he asked.

Venus leaned into him, pressing herself from navel to lips flush with him, and kissed him deeply.  “I don’t need luck,” she whispered against his cheek.  “I need timing.”

Jake wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight.  “Knock him dead, baby.”

She half-grinned, all confidence.  “I plan to.”  She turned and walked down the corridor, parting the crew effortlessly, and disappeared past the guard.

The other party members made for the O-Club, where they had agreed to wait until Venus was done.  Upon arrival, Lieutenant Kines welcomed them back to the bar.  “Hello once more, my friends, what can I get for you?”

“Just some water, thanks,” Remilia said, sitting down at the bar.  Kines filled a glass and passed it to her.  As her fingers brushed his, she smiled as his hand lingered.  His eyes, however, were locked on her arms, his jaw tight.  She glanced down – “…oh.  It’s…” she trailed off, pained.  The scars on her arms were visible.  But then, she was done hiding them.  “It’s long done.”

“Good to hear, Lady Remilia,” Kines said quietly, visibly shaking himself.  “My sister didn’t stop in time.”  Remilia winced, setting her glass down.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Remilia said remorsefully.  “And…sorry if I brought back something unpleasant.”

“Thank you, madam,” Kines said.

Alex shifted uncomfortably on his stool.  Kines shook himself again, and turned to the others.  “What can I get for you, Lord Carlin?”

“Just water.  For all of us.”

“Yes, sir,” Kines said, handing some glasses out.  “May I ask where Lady Venus is?”

“She’s at the gym,” Jake said, picking up his glass.  “She wanted us to go ahead without her.”

Venus stood under the pouring water of the shower, eyes closed.  The water wafted into steam where it landed on her skin.  The girl wasn’t bathing.  She was purging her mind.

Her hands clenched.  She lifted them slowly, opening her eyes against the water.  The world around her was tinged red.  The light from her eyes tinted her vision.  She could shield them with contact lenses, and usually did, so that she could look at the world the way normal people saw it.  They were completely invisible, so nobody would ever know but her.  She had removed them.  Now the world looked like it was bathed in blood.

She ran her hands down her arms, crossing her breasts, and digging her fingers into her flesh until it hurt.  “The fires of Nocturne burn within me.  The hate of the unclean sustains me,” she whispered, repeating the first few lines of the Creed.  “I am the paladin that shields the pure.  I am the inferno that scours the world.  I am the sword that cleaves the unrighteous and the light of the Emperor’s will,” she finished, turning off the water.  She listened to the water drain down into the greytanks, dripping away into silence.  She sighed.  “I am a seventeen-year-old girl and I am gonna fucking die.”

She sighed again and toweled off.  She dried her hair, and stood in front of the mirror, applying her wrap.  She tucked it off under her back and slid a dark green sports bra over it.  After a moment’s thought, Venus grabbed the other container from her bag, and slid a line of bright red makeup across her face.  She drew a thick line under one eye, trailing to insignificance over the bridge of her nose, and widening back up under the other eye.  She looked at the effect in the mirror and nodded.  It looked like her eyes were melting down over her face.  Excellent.

She daubed a few more spots over her clothes and skin, then pulled a matching green set of boxing underwear on, spreading a bit more dye over her them.  It was the color her eyes were if the glow was absent, and it was slightly iridescent.  The effect was such that it looked like she had cracks in her entire front side, from the soles of her feet to the base of her hair.  She washed her hands off and glanced over her appearance, finding it appropriately terrifying.  “One last touch,” she said, removing the drakeshead necklace from her bag and trying it tight around her left ankle.  The ceramite chain could easily handle the stress.  She paused as she looked over her reflection, and a smile quirked her painted lips.  “Oooh…I know,” she said, grabbing her green drake skin bandana, and tying it off around her head.  She carefully tucked her hair under it.  “Perfect.”

Venus took a deep breath and walked out into the gym, passing an inactive servoskull that she had brought with her.  She carried it to the ring and climbed in.

Isaac was there already, tying some tape over her his fingers.  He froze when he spotted Venus.  “Oh…my goodness, Venus.  You turned into a beautiful young woman since I saw you last.”

“I did,” Venus said.  She turned the skull on and carelessly tossed it into the air, letting it hover over the ring.  “And…good luck,” she said.  The room brightened as her heart rate picked up.  The fire in her eyes lit the makeup, and the lines in her face glowed.

“I see…nice touch,” he said quietly.  He cricked his neck and flexed his arms, settling into a stance.  “How shall we play this?” he asked, shifting his balance experimentally.

“First one to surrender, of course.  Or black out,” Venus said.  She bent at the waist, settling into a stance.

“Brave girl,” Isaac muttered.  He had been a youthful twenty-eight when Venus had trained under him first.  Now he was pushing forty, and he still moved with a snakelike grace that put a chill through Venus.

“Record,” Venus said loudly, triggering the floating skull.  A tiny light blinked to signify its recording status.  Isaac smacked his palms together and bowed.  Venus mirrored him, and they both settled into stances.

Isaac slowly turned, walking backwards around the ring.  Venus followed his movements, watching carefully.  He was gauging her.  He wasn’t ready for the kill yet, he was checking to see how she had changed.  She was a foot taller now.  Her defenses would be higher.  Her center of gravity was much higher.  And she had certainly never worn bloodpaint before.

Isaac paused his circling, inching towards her.  Venus tensed her shoulders, raising her hands to navel height.  The wiry serf lunged, snapping his hand at Venus’ face.  She froze.  His knuckles stopped a hairsbreadth from her face.  “Give me some credit,” she whispered.

Isaac nodded, then attacked.  He opened with a vicious kick across her knees.  She took a step back, avoiding it, and advanced, entering his guard.  He threw four vicious punches at her stomach, which she either deflected or absorbed.  Even as his arms were moving, she launched a counterattack.  She jabbed high, then feinted with her left fist and swept her legs as he dodged high.  She nicked his shin as he lurched back, but he recovered, stomping his foot down between her legs so hard the mat deformed for an instant.

Venus recoiled, slamming into the back of his legs.  Isaac stumbled, off-balance.  Venus rose, punching deep from the shoulder, directly into Isaac’s clenched stomach.

[[Image:Venus_WIP2.jpg|thumb|right|Venus, wearing her bloodpaint and making it look good]]

The serf stumbled, raising his hands in defense, as Venus slowly rose to her feet.  “You’ve learned a few dirty tricks, Venus,” he whispered hoarsely.  Venus nodded.  She didn’t know if it was the makeup or what, but she was feeling like she hadn’t felt since before Morticia got hurt.  The light from her eyes was painful for Isaac to look at directly.  Her skin was aflame.

“I’m alive,” she whispered.  Her voice was unnervingly deep.

“You feel the fires of our world stir in your heart,” Isaac said, meeting her eyes with effort.

Venus nodded, then charged.  She closed the gap with blinding speed, slamming her elbow forward to catch Isaac’s guard.  He gripped her arm and redirected her away, bringing his knee up to collide with her stomach.  She bent around the blow, and brought her diverted arm up to grip him by the knee, throwing it down.  Venus lunged upwards and drove her fist towards Isaac’s face.

He brought his guard up and caught it, wincing at the bone-crushing strength behind her blow.  He shook his stinging arm and dodged high, ducking under her follow-up.  He threw himself sideways at her, slamming into her with his shoulder.  She staggered back, guard up.

Isaac nodded.  “Good.”

“Ever the teacher,” she rasped, hot air spilling forth from her lips.

Isaac swung.  Venus tilted her head back and let his punch roll off her collarbone.  He swung again, a combo of four rapid-fire punches, and she deflected them.  As he swung again, though, he suddenly lunged, driving a kick into her midsection.  She leaped backwards, eyeing his legs.
He advanced again, done holding back.  Venus winced as he drove a cruel punch at her neck, which she just barely managed to dodge.  He wasn’t relenting, either; he punched again, a vicious blow to her breast that staggered her, and somehow the wiry man got clean past her guard.  He got a few punches through to her waist and stomach.  Venus nearly gagged.

She swatted him away, angrily driving a knee strike at his groin.  Somehow, he managed to pivot away in time, and took the blow on his thigh.  The force of it was enough to drive him back a pace, and Venus pounced, swinging her hands like hammers at his ribs and stomach.  Finally on the offensive, she drove in relentlessly, forcing him back several paces.

He threw himself backwards, landing in a half-crouch.  Before he could even straighten up, though, Venus tensed her legs and lunged.  He managed to jerk his head back from the line of flight of her kneecap by a millimeter.  He could feel the heat roiling off her flesh.

She was on him, fists blurring into his guard.  Isaac’s defense bent and flowed around her vicious punches, diverting them away instead of letting them impact.  She wasn’t going to tire, though.  She was more than human.

Venus suddenly shifted her tactics, driving her left knee at Isaac’s groin again, but stopped short, planting her bare foot on the mat.  Isaac tried to sweep the leg out from under her with his own leg, but it was like trying to kick down a hundred-year-old tree; he couldn’t even get it to budge.  Suddenly stuck in place, he drove both thumbs at her eyes, trying to blind her.  She planted both hands on his suddenly stationary knee and rolled herself forward, slamming her entire body into him with bruising speed.

Isaac slammed into the mat, caught completely by surprise.  He tried to roll away, but she was gone.  Somehow, she was halfway across the ring already, perfectly still.  She was resting one knee on the mat, crouching down.  Isaac slowly rose to his feet.  “Very well done,” he panted.  “I completely didn’t see it coming.”

Venus smiled.  With the lines of bloodpaint over her lips, the effect was positively daemonic.  She rose to her feet in silence.  With a few quick steps, she was back in his guard, and the battle resumed.

Isaac kicked high, trying to force her back with his greater height, but it didn’t matter.  Venus was fighting like a monster, and even his speed wasn’t saving him now.  Every few blows, one got past his guard.  Finally, his guard fell aside for an instant, and Venus moved to end it.  She crossed once, knocking him back.  She followed up with two quick shots to the ribs, and as he bent forward slightly to block another, she slammed her forearm across his chin.

He crumpled, sagging to the mat.  Venus stepped back, blinking sweat out of her eyes.  “Yield,” she growled.

Isaac glanced up at her, but he was done.  He tapped the mat.

Venus closed her eyes for a moment, letting the red mist fade.  When she opened them again, she smiled.  “A good fight.”

Isaac climbed the ropes, nodding.  “Well done, Venus,” he managed, working his jaw.  “You’ve improved considerably.”

“Thanks.  I’ve been practicing,” she said coyly.  “Now…” she stood back and bowed formally.  Isaac did as well, and both climbed out of the ring.  “Stop recording,” she said as she passed the skull.  It fell into her hands.

With a few presses, the recording popped out on a data card.  She left it on her bag as she went to clean up.