"I can explain. It was the quickest way…" Bertruda began, but stopped after Janine's helmet slipped off the back of her head and she pointed a finger at the woman, shaking with rage.
"Not a word from anyone." She sensed it, the growing cheering in the center and occasional grins on the squires' snouts. A chuckle spread a red veil over her eyes, and she took several deep breaths, focusing her gaze on a small, black-furred figure fitting a gauntlet on her paw. "Marco? What are you doing here?"
"I am your adjutant, Warlord!" Marco chuckled and pressed a paw to his mouth. "Sorry. Hiccups. Lunches here are divine."
"Sure. Lunches," Janine nodded, burning from shame. "Machine! Wipe that disgusting insinuation from your databases! And if anyone dares…"
"I always knew there was something going on between you two." Marty wiped a non-existent tear from her lens, choking on her mirth. "May you have many passionate nights to share and raise countless cubs to your name…"
"Warlord Martyshkina." Janine snorted, clutching the Taleteller tighter. "A rank-match. After the war. Naked, claw to claw."
"Oh, what a shame, she's not satisfied with just one soulmate!" Martyshkina desperately threw her head up and retreated out of the Taleteller's range.
At least it helps the morale. Janine shut up and stood still, shooting down any suggestion of the machine intelligence about the feast or dresses. Marco dutifully helped fit greaves onto her legs. He still wore the coat but unzipped it, showing that he had put on a basic exoskeleton, and she spied a smoke grenade and several markers of various colors on his belt.
The sage asked Janine to raise her arms, and she obliged, grimacing as the woman fitted her with the pieces of underarmor. It felt tight, but when she flexed, the material stretched slightly, preserving the zippers and hole shapes around her implants. A squire staggered, seeing white, necrotic skin around several implants.
"Lady Janine." The boy licked his lips nervously. "We must call a hospitaller…"
"Insert it," she said.
"But the pain!" cried the boy. He looked at the sage and the other squires. "You all see it! Some implants are half broken, others are torn out, and the last ones are literally killing you, Lady! If we…"
Janine cast the yellow light of her eyes on his crimson ones, exuding a scent of both aggression and calm reassurance. If any male or female of the Tribe had dared to express their concern in such a public way, she would have broken their bones. But the young cub was of a gentler, brighter generation, an outsider despite their physical similarities. She had no right to lash out at him.
"It is my discomfort or them." She nodded at Opul on the map. "Simple choice."
Cables entered the still-bloodied wounds on her back, sending a refreshing electrical jolt across the nerves and filling her head with a nauseating, throbbing agony. Her heart rate increased, and the machine intelligence's voice immediately changed as it recoiled in disgust as it recoiled in disgust after running a scan of her body. She overrode all attempts to stop the union, licking away a trickle of blood coming down her nostrils and toughing out the discomfort.
Never before had she tried an Order suit, and when the machine turned on the air conditioning, she growled, ready to ask for it to be turned off before she froze her ass off when the temperature miraculously changed on its own, heating up. The Twins knew their craft and designed the visor to allow the user to see many kilometers ahead, complimenting the innate abilities of the Ice Fangs' crimson eyes, which could heighten perception enough to slow to a crawl even a falling rock in the air.
Wolfkins lacked such ability. Their talents lay in natural toughness, strength, and a faster recovery rate than their cousi… Ice Fangs. The suit's intelligence detected this and quickly adjusted the vision to spare the amber eyes from further strain. And with these changes, Janine's body underwent its own adaptation, synapses coursing across the nerves, reigniting even numbed and dead ones. Her brain and veins endured the unusual connection and grew stronger for it.
Meters-long bundles of fiber muscles slithered across her body, securing themselves and serving as a layer. Servomotors activated silently, relieving the weight, and then the backpack hummed, powered not by nuclear energy but by a plasma generator.
"I can't release my claws," she mused, hearing furious scrubbing.
"Do not be concerned, Lady, the suit is well-equipped to prevent such undignified barbarism," the machine eagerly assured her.
"Drop the lady, name's Janine. Do you have a name?"
"The former Sword Saints never found it necessary to give me one, Lady. Adress me as you wish. I exist to serve."
"Typical." Janine shook her head. "You're an ally, not a slave, idiot. And allies should have names. I'll call you Albert."
"Identification received and accepted," Albert happily sang. "May I…" his voice stuttered, "inquire as to why you allow the plates to be blemished?"
"It's not a blemish!" Marco argued, finishing his painting. "Tell him or it. My drawing isn't that bad!"
"R-right!" A squire nodded. "This family crest may be a little rough around the edges, but it conveys pride excellently."
"How inconsiderate of me!" Albert gasped, and the suit's cameras whirled to focus on the image of crossed muscular arms that Marco had painted on Janine's thigh. "The Mountaintop heraldry is updated with the Bull-Slayer sigil."
"Don't you dare…" Janine exhaled at the noise of the opened door and let it be.
"Anissa, Kalaisa, your packs are with me," Janine said to the newcomers, and the wolf hags bowed.
Kalaisa was an obvious choice for the mission, for the girl continued to grow, the seeds of a potential warlord blossoming in her. And Anissa, though she commanded an undermanned pack, proved herself well enough to work with the Ice Fangs, willingly swallowing her pride for the sake of the common goal.
"This won't leave much of a space for my own troops," Bertruda remarked.
"Unfortunate necessities of the world. Take your best along; we will be grateful for any assistance you can provide, Sword Saint," Janine said diplomatically, recalling the Ice Fang's question. Despite the betrayal, they had to work together; otherwise, what kind of protectors were they? "Wolf Hag Elzada. You and… Thyia are to act as joint commanders in our absence. If we do not return, you are to lead the pack and hurry to Houstad, no matter what."
"You would trust an Ice Fang?" Thyia asked in a voice full of venom, but then she blinked, preparing to apologize.
"Never." Janine let the helmet slip off her head and locked eyes with the woman, understanding the stress that momentarily overcame her. "But I think I know what to expect from you, considering your sword saint is on board. Our goals are aligned. I put you in charge because I can't be sure of the same about anyone else of your kin."
"Warlord. Your words are not conducive to a flourishing cooperation between our forces," Bertruda said.
"Because we worked oh so well before, right, Sword Saint?" Janine ignored the pleading look in the traitor's eyes. No more. No more unresponsive cordiality. Fuck the Order. Hostility in response to hostility. "Enough bickering. We need two APCs for the mission!"
"Already prepared, Warlord," Anissa knelt, and Janine noticed a prayer book tied to her waist with an iron chain.
"I'll go too!" Marco stepped forward.
"No," Janine said.
"Are you crazy?" Anissa laughed.
"Nope," Kalaisa added, and patted Marco.
"Don't even dream it," Impatient One warned.
"I can fight!" Marco released his claws, showing them his gentle and precious paws. "Warlord saw me pass the test! I can help you, Warlord! This time I will protect you…"
"You will stay behind, along with the cubs. You there!" She addressed the sage, who brought her armor. "Guard my son with your life."
"Warlord, I have proven that I can kill… Mother, I cannot lose any more of my family!"
Janine marched past Marco, ignoring his pleas and hating herself for not having time to comfort him. She will explain everything to him upon returning, even though his back had earned a new set of scars for his insubordination. Traditions demanded it, and by all rights she should have bitten him and thrown him to the ground to beat obedience into him, just as Terrific had done with everyone in her pack to instill discipline.
And look at how you turned out after such methods. A woman who sent her son to his death. Still sure there is value in cruelty, eh, Janine? Janine gripped the Taleteller's shaft. Perhaps it was time for some changes. Rather than punishing Marco, she will speak with him and patiently explain why it was not safe for a boy to be in a combat zone. Yes. Yes, it seemed logical. Normies raised their cubs in such a way, and there were tons of fine people among them! Spirits know Ravager was and still is wrong about many things; maybe the Spirits are now sending Janine an alternative path for the Tribe?
Banishing her heretical thoughts for now, Janine entered the spacious hangar and was guided by the HUD to the vehicles. Where the knight's armor projected nobility and elegance, the APC provided ruggedness and power. Two high-caliber machine guns atop each vehicle stood ready to provide fire support in combat situations, and their sleek, silvery shapes helped ensure that bullets would bounce off the hulls.
The technicians presented Janine with a new laser rifle, finished their preparations, and opened the ramps so that the eighty Wolfkins and twenty Ice Fangs could take their places in the harnesses while their leaders remained outside, fully capable of keeping pace with the transports on foot.
Instead of a ramp, a tunnel opened in the wall, and the APCs roared, racing out and flying over the continuous track, plopping heavily on the ground. Janine and the rest jumped after them, cratering the ground, and running on all fours, not even glancing at the convoy of surprised civilians and marching soldiers.
"Albert?"
"Yes, Lady?"
"Do you have sensors capable of detecting mines?"
"Naturally, Sword Saint and Warlord. Antennas in your feet act as feelers, reading the ground, and built-in radars will warn you of potential problems in advance. Everything is already in place; please trust me, you won't walk into a minefield."
"Thank you, ally." She hesitated, breathing in the clean air of the tortured forest. Do machines have souls? Would the Blessed Mother care? "It is wrong that your masters didn't use you, Albert. No one should be forgotten."
"It saddens me that our current technological knowledge is not sufficient to transfer or upload me into another suit," Albert said. "Not even Till Ingo could solve this problem. But you are incorrect, Lady! I assist in administrative tasks and watch over our historical records."
"Scrub me from them. I wish to have nothing to do with the Ice Fangs."
"Impossible. No one should be forgotten." She could've sworn there was a hint of smugness in his voice.
Martyshkina was right, Janine decided, shattering a tree in her path. An ambush awaited them, and they risked arriving at a battlefield only to find corpses. It didn't matter. If there was even the slightest chance of saving the civilians, they had to take it, and Janine intended to sacrifice the raiders to honor those who had fallen so far. A paltry gift, but she was just getting started.
There will be enough deaths before the war was over.