12 Miles Below

Book 5. Chapter 12: Strange culture (T)

To'Wrathh was impressed by the maximum speed of the surface airspeeder, considering its age and state of repair. Most of the airspeeders found underground were barely functional, either improperly replicated by mites or cannibalized for parts by other colonies as the frigate was gradually pushed upward. It was a statistical miracle that a few correctly built airspeeders still managed to reach the surface, given their size.

She could estimate the average number that would eventually make their way to the Undersiders each year, and the smaller number that would evade those cities and scout parties to ascend to the surface. There, they would be left stranded, half-buried in ice and exposed to the elements. However, she couldn't predict where these events would occur.

The surface-dwelling humans were no different.

As a result, they took meticulous care of the gear and equipment they had access to. The war frigate piloted by a man named Teed was nearly two and a half centuries old, according to her scanner suite and material analysis. She initially struggled to believe that something with such primitive construction and no self-repair capabilities could last so long until she requested confirmation from the human relic armors around her.

The ancient armors found no reason to dispute her findings and provided her with even more detailed schematics from their own scans.

A significant portion of the frigate's lifespan could have been spent frozen in ice, perfectly preserved. However, the other half clearly saw heavy use. It had been constantly repaired, refurbished, and fitted with parts from older airspeeders that had flown their final run decades earlier.

To'Wrathh spent her days talking with the surface dwellers inside the small ship as it traversed the white wastes. Her curiosity drove her now that she was free from any other pressing concerns.

At first, they were reserved, but soon they became more open, proudly sharing their heritage and accomplishments. Their meticulous care for their equipment was evident. When she asked for more information about their political structure and caste system, they grew hesitant.

Those subjects were better suited for the heads of Houses, like the ones already aboard her airspeeder.

Thus, Kidra was the first person To'Wrathh spoke with about her clan's politics. She appeared to know far more than Keith about the hidden intricacies and landscape. To'Wrathh then sought to compare this information with Kidra's rival, Ankah, the heir to Shadowsong, a large and traditionally adversarial house to the Winterscars.

As Ankah described it, their house held ancient nobility and prioritized honor above all else. They viewed the Winterscars' willingness to stoop to any level to achieve their goals as a personal insult.

When To'Wrathh asked Keith for his opinion, he confidently retorted that the Shadowsongs were all "sore losers who couldn't adapt to doing their own laundry if they tried, even if the washing machines came with training wheels."

Ankah countered that handling laundry was the servants' duty, as it was beneath their station to engage in such menial tasks.

This response didn't provoke the reaction she expected; he merely waved both hands in her direction, as if all the evidence he needed was standing right in front of him.

Kidra suggested that To'Wrathh form her own opinions and judgments on inner politics by speaking to others within the clan when she had the opportunity. The Feather took this to heart, starting her investigation by confirming whether laundry machines indeed came with training wheels, as it seemed unlikely that such a feature would be helpful.

The answer was no, and according to everyone else in the airspeeder, Keith was a "lying liar who lies." It was a rare moment when both Ankah and Kidra agreed with each other.

Tenisent, however, refused to engage in the topic at all, asserting that it was a waste of time in the first place—not the laundry machines, but the politics. He didn't bother to say a word about laundry.

So, when To'Wrathh arrived at the clan, she found herself rather unprepared for what to expect.

The standoff between Tenisent and Shadowsong was the first oddity she found. The two stared at one another for longer than To'Wrathh considered necessary. In the tense silence that filled the hangar, she noticed the nervous glances exchanged by the surrounding clan members. She sent a comms request to Keith to inquire about this development. His armor did have a language engram with anger issues, but the armor’s base AI was ambivalent to her. Requests like this were processed by the armor, not the engram. Thankfully.

“Is such a confrontation normal within your culture?” She asked, keeping her physical voice muted and only communicating through the comms channel. The rest of the hangar was silent, and To'Wrathh felt her feelings weren’t alone in the space. Nor did she want to talk out loud and be singled out.

“Sometimes.” Keith answered back, giving a slight shrug, the helmet keeping his answers private despite the silence. “They’ve got some history.”

“I understand. A rivalry of sorts.” Similar to herself and Kidra. Yes, she did remember having standoffs like this when she first met Kidra. Fond memories.

“Of sorts.” Keith said. “Far as I get it, Shadowsong hates every Winterscar with a passion, except for Father who gets a ‘he’s okay, I guess.’ if you keep asking. Seeing him alive again is probably throwing him for a spin. Not like I knew he was haunting you at the time and I’d find him again, so I had no chance to ever tell him about it before I left.”

“Tenisent was not haunting me.” To'Wrathh said. “He was a prisoner that I used for advice and later assisted me against Relinquished when I shifted sides.”

“Was he a disembodied soul?”

“Yes.”

“Was he stuck at your side at all times?”

“... Yes.”

“At any point, did he threaten to break free and find a way to kill you?”

“I see your point. I withdraw my argument.”

“Wait.” Keith paused, as if mentally rebooting. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to just slink away like that! Where’s the fun?”

“I fail to see why further debate is necessary? Your argument was compelling and logical.”

“But I enjoy arguing about pointless topics, throw me a bone here Wrath.”

“There is no bone to throw.” To’Wrathh said, paused and then came up with a better answer. “Ghosts do not have bones to throw, Keith.”

Keith paused, then groaned. “You’re insufferable, I want you to know this.”

“I have noted that opinion, and disregarded it. Thank you.” She answered back. “To the matter at hand, why have these two not said a word to each other yet? Should there not be taunts or gloating involved?”

When she’d confronted Kidra, it was only natural to do so. Perhaps it really was something more unique to Feathers. These two humans didn’t say a word to each other.

“My bets are that Shadowsong is debating how much to ask directly.” Keith said. “We’ve got a lot of gossip mongers around here. I should know, I’m one of the worst.”

“Ask what?” To’Wrathh asked.

“Oh, you know. How's being dead like? Did you bring back any souvenirs from robot hell? Am I going to get challenged for the First Blade title, because I’m rather fond of that? Oh, and are you okay with me having tried to kill your son earlier? Ice under the dig site right?”

“This man attempted to murder you?” To’Wrathh asked, head turning from the confrontation. She wasn’t the only one to turn his way; Tenisent’s head turned ever so slightly, eyes searching out his son, narrowing.

Keith continued to talk without noticing yet, absentmindedly.

On her end, To’Wrathh was having very mixed feelings about all of this now. Anyone trying to kill Keith was stepping on her territory. The issue seemed to have been resolved however. She had enough behavior data to know Keith tended to cut limbs off enemies he didn’t like, and then taunt them about it later. Shadowsong still had all arms and limbs, thus the hostilities were likely resolved already. A pity.

She made a mental note to revisit and make sure the man wouldn’t make another attempt, but later. Once she wasn’t in front of so many witnesses.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Keith said, unaware of To’Wrathh’s near murderous thoughts and not yet noticing Tenisent’s own death glare. “Will have to explain to Father why Shadowsong and... Ahh scrapshit.”

He’d noticed then, To’Wrathh concluded.

“Feathers can eavesdrop better than a house servant with an ear stuck to the wall. And he's a Feather now. You.. uhh, you heard everything I’m guessing?”

Tenisent nodded. Very slowly. Then he turned back to the Shadowsong Prime, “I was told the clan lord was waiting for us.” He said out loud, voice ice cold.

Shadowsong nodded back. “Very well… lord Deathless, I will escort you to an audience with him.” His head flicked to the side, ordering his guards to split and clear the path to the airlock.

Winterscars and Shadowsong guards moved in formation, escorting the group past the gawking engineers running around the hangar. There wasn’t enough room for the full party to cross through, as such they took turns waiting for the cycles to pass.

Soon enough, the group moved through with only a few guards left from both houses around them. The airlock doors sealed shut on the other side, heat cycling through. In the hiss, Tenisent’s voice rose. “You tried to kill my son.”

Shadowsong paused, pondering how to answer. “I did.” He eventually said, resignation in his voice.

It was the wrong answer, and violence was near instant.

Shadowsong’s reflexes were significantly faster than any standard human, his dagger already flashing into his hand, parrying two quick hits from Tenisent’s own dagger strikes.

Unfortunately for the veteran human, Tenisent wasn’t human any longer. His speed went far beyond what any relic knight could stand against in close quarter combat.

Two hits had been parried, but four attacks had been sent. The first was in cold fury. The second, a recalculation against the surprising speed of his opponent, to test the limits. The third strike was a feint, dagger rolling out of Tenisent’s hand at the apex point, and the fourth strike wasn’t from a dagger at all. His freed hand wrapped around Shadowsong’s own exposed weapon hand, dagger and all, then clenched down. A white armored hand grabbed hold of his armor’s collar at the same moment, lifted him up and slammed him into the airlock wall, denting it backwards. Shadowsong had tried to slap the grapple away at the same moment, and found his hand punching into an iron wall, regardless of the defense being perfectly timed.

The Winterscar’s own dagger clanked on the ground, discarded in that feint to open up his opponent. But the battle was over in a heartbeat. He had no need for a weapon; a Feather’s chassis was a weapon on its own.

Shadowsong’s armor strained against the pressure, trying to free himself. Cracks began to form on the metal plates as Tenisent’s hand slowly crushed down. Nothing the armor could do could escape the vice grip.

“You tried to kill my son.” Tenisent repeated, eyes burrowing a hole into Shadowsong’s helmet.

“Hold on! Stop-stop-stop!” Keith yelled out, hands grabbing onto Tenisent’s arm, trying to pry him away. Kidra seemed to have the same reflex, equally trying to pry the other hand off. Three relic armors working together did absolutely nothing.

To’Wrathh watched the events with interest. She knew the full force a Feather’s shell of that generation could exert. This wasn’t an execution, it was a demonstration. The man would have been dead several times over by now if Tenisent had wanted it. This was fairly mild.

And, having heard this man nearly killed her human earlier, she felt no reason to interrupt. Rather, she felt displeased at the whole thing. She had been hoping to do the same but considered it would be seen as impolite to do so this early. And here Tenisent demonstrated she had nothing to fear about being impolite in the first place.

Keith didn’t seem to realize that, still panicking, turning to her. “Godsdamn it, help!”

“He is not in danger.” She answered back, crossing her arms and huffing with annoyance. “Relic armor has innate crush resistance, however it is woefully unprepared against this level of force. If wished for it, he could have easily crushed Shadowsong’s hand by now. He’s done so before against the slaver knights.”

The rest of the guards around the airlock seemed conflicted on what to do. The Winterscar knights had already formed up between Tenisent and the Shadowsong knights, who had equally drawn out weapons and only hesitated on turning them on. The guards outside were scrambling in a flurry, weapons aimed at the opposing house, not quite sure what was going on but ready regardless.

The Shadowsongs were hesitating, unsure of what to do. It was their prime under attack here, but the attacker was Deathless. A demi-god of considerable respect among their culture. To turn weapons on such a guest would go against every basic tenant of their religion, as well as their culture. Nor did they know the Feather was a Winterscar returned from the grave, which may have shifted their choice.

Additionally, considering the discussion was between private comms, the attack would have seemed to come from nowhere. Tenisent’s mouth hadn’t moved when he’d spoken. And none of the armors had hearing sensors as accurate as a Feather’s to overhear Shadowsong’s own replies.

It was Ankah who settled the score. She took a step forward, hand extended to her house knights. “Stand down. We can handle it from here.” She turned and walked next to Tenisent, who made no move to let her father go. “Would you kindly explain yourself, Lord Deathless?”

“Give me a reason I should not cut him down where he stands.” He replied, head still fixated on his struggling prey. He’d answered back on private comms.

“Can you explain why you are holding my father at daggerpoint first?” Ankah asked, following his offer and keeping it equally over private comms.

“Ask him.”

She did so, turning to her trapped father.

The fight seemed to go out of the Shadowsong prime that very moment, as if his daughter’s voice was all that was needed. He let go of Tenisent’s arm and went limp. “I was… emotionally compromised.” He said, speaking the events that happened from the moment Kidra had first left the clan.

With the Shadowsong Heiress there to make sure her father's words wouldn't be misunderstood, all details were unraveled without issue.

It settled tensions around the airlock, but did little to help To’Wrathh’s own feelings. This man nearly killed her human - before Keith even knew she existed or had met her at least a single time! The thought infuriated her. In another world, she could have chased after Keith only to find him long dead on the surface from some other random human.

Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable.

While she silently seethed in her corner, Tenisent slowly lowered the relic knight back on his feet. “It's the boy’s choice on how to deal with you.” But instead of letting go, he took a step closer, looming over the prime. “However, should you pose a threat to my son or daughter ever again, it will be my choice on how to deal with you. And you will regret that choice every single day of whatever miserable life is left once I am done. Am I clear?”

“I… understand the feeling.” Shadowsong said.

There was a pause between the two, before Tenisent shoved the man away in disgust.

“We’re done then.” Tenisent said, and turned back to the airlock door, waiting for it to blink green as if nothing had happened earlier.

To’Wrathh found it all to be so frustrating. With the matter settled, it would mean she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Surely if she tried to break this man’s arm now, Keith would get upset at her for it, even if she could technically heal him back up afterwards.

Stupid human. Perhaps this was what Keith had meant earlier about all the fun being taken out of an argument. She didn’t want this to be resolved so quickly before she could have her own opinions said.

And so it was with slight irritation that she stepped foot into the clan colony for the first time, not realizing how alien the culture here would truly be.

Next chapter - Gossip never changes (T)

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