#mothercon

[badbuddi]

Mom lying back on a sun lounge by the pool in a light colored bikini, reading one of her little corny erotica novels with a visible wet spot on her bottoms. Son who notices his mom getting all squirmy and hot and feels his trunks tenting. He comes over and tugs the strings of her bottoms loose before diving down to eat her out as a little after swim snack.

[atalantasfatgocks]

Prim, demure mother who always wears ankle-length dresses, hoping to hide the egregious slab of cockmeat hanging down between her legs

Prim, demure mother whose glistening tip hovers inches above the ground, very obviously curving her dress outwards

Prim, demure mother who always winces when she has to lean down, complaining about a bad back - even though everyone can see how her fist-sized cockhead flattens against the ground and starts pulsing

Prim, demure mother who has similar problems with stairs. Every few steps she stops for a "breather"

Prim, demure mother whose cockhead slaps against each step in turn, until she has to stop after 2 or 3 to keep edging. Afterall, it'd be rude to get the stairs all slimy... or so she says

Prim, demure mother who reaches the top of the stairs panting and barely coherent, horrendous mass of cockflesh straining against her dress in a steamy, heady, dripping mess

Prim, demure mother who thinks "just for a moment-" and pulls up her dress a little, just enough to pull back her own foreskin

Prim, demure mother whose lollipop-red tip practically glows in the light, eliciting a low groan as it slides, slowly, out of her soft, lubricated sheath

Prim, demure mother who stands in the hallway entranced by her own cock, steaming and throbbing in the air

Pulsing, thumping blood heaving through it, rushing along in steady, slow pumps

Repressed daughter who got up for a glass of water and now can't unglue her eyes from the scene

Repressed daughter whose underwear hits the floor with a soft thump, kicked away into a pile of discarded clothes

Repressed daughter whose soft skin presses together, opening the door a little wider just to show off her own fuzzy, glistening pussy, highlighted in a strip of light along with her legs, her pink sleeping shirt, and her needy, desperate eyes

Mindless, ravenous mom whose eyes find her daughter, and a hot, steaming glob of cum shoots out against the wall, splashing back and hitting her daughter's smooth, youthful skin

Repressed daughter who opens her door halfway, reaches down, and licks her whole hand free of thick, hot, sweet mothercum

Thoughtless, ravenous mother who steps closer to her child, until her awful, beautiful thing rests just against her thighs

Repressed daughter who steps even closer, sliding mom's griddle-hot fuckmeat between her legs until her hot, wet pussy rests against mom's base

Repressed daughter who whispers: "I want you to make it fit, mom~"

[sweetestsixshooter]

Hunter/Killer Chapter List

The prodigal Hunter-Killer mech piloting skills of a mother and her Hound daughter elicit the creation of a new 'bonded-pair' unit in an effort to see if chemically and fiscally encouraged "abnormal bonding practices" can create similar results. Two sisters are inducted into the program, and combat puts their intimate bond to the test, until they're forced to decide between the special privileges of their unit and their morals.

Please note that this story contains erotic content, intense action, violence, and death.

Chapter 1: Vendetta

Chapter 2: Hangar

Chapter 3: Chariot

Chapter 4: Dreams and Discord

Chapter 5: Bonded-Pairs

Chapter 5.5: Bonding Practices (Smut)

Chapter 6: Juggernaut

Chapter 7: Treason

Chapter 8: Hound

Chapter 9: Neutron Ray

Chapter 10: Epilogue

AO3 Version

[badbuddi]

I wish I had a dick so I could fuck my friends’ moms

[sweetestsixshooter]

Hunter/Killer - Chapter 2: Hangar

The dual operators of the Vendetta Hunter-Killer mech return to the hangar after a successful mission. The Invasion forces' Behavioral Committee has assigned Director Riven O'Lear to assess their abnormal bonding practices and their influence on the duo's combat performance.

Chapter 1

Song of the chapter: Savior

Hours later, harsh fluorescent lights greeted Director Riven O'Lear as she entered the yawning expanse of the Invasion forces' advance deployment hangar. The envoy from the HK Behavioral Committee beside her pointed upwards toward the center of the space, indicating a massive dark purple HK being pulled along a ceiling rail toward a berth a half kilometer away, its feet held two meters above the ground. "Vendetta, as I'm sure you're aware."

O'Lear said "I've read the reports, but never seen it in person or in vids yet." The front of the massive, rounded hulk of metal passed them, and O'Lear could see the dark sheen of its front give way to patches of dull steel on its flat back, the paint burnt and scraped away in so many places that the craft appeared to have vitiligo. A note of amusement traced her tone as she commented "It looks like it fell down a flight of stairs." The envoy laughed and passed her a datapad showing official reports and statistics. "Last I heard, the techs stopped requisitioning paint for it. They don't want to waste their time anymore." The director fumbled and nearly dropped the pad in surprise when a sudden explosion echoed through the chamber, and she watched the Hunter compartment's emergency hatch fly backwards away from Vendetta and a muscular figure in full combat kit, save for a helmet, leapt backwards out of the craft to land in a heavy crouch on the hangar floor, a high-caliber assault rifle in hand. O'Lear's gaze flicked over to the envoy, who laughed again. "Jesska." O'Lear looked down to the papers in her hand and saw 'Jesska' printed twice in both the Hunter and Killer headings at the top of the report. "Which one is Jeskka? Vendetta-One or Vendetta-Two?"

"They both are."

"What? She has two call signs?"

"No, they both have the same call sign and name. Jeskka One and Two. Mother and daughter, same name."

O'Lear shook her head. "They have the same name?"

"Jesska the first and Jesska the second. Jesska 'senior' and Jesska 'junior', technically, but everyone just calls the daughter 'Two'."

"Two…" O'Lear's voice faded as she and the envoy followed Two at a distance as she sauntered toward Vendetta's berth, her rifle pointed down and held flat against her chest with one hand. The tall Hunter passed a nearby tech, racked the bolt on her weapon to clear the chamber, and then roughly threw the weapon into his hands without addressing him. She climbed to stand with her hands clasped behind her and chest thrust out in pride at the top of the stairs adjacent to she and her mother's HK, where it stood freely in its berth.

O'Lear gestured at her from further down the hangar. "Cocky, that one. She looks like a liability."

"Check their numbers again."

Without looking, O'Lear replied "65, what about it?"

The envoy pointed at the datapad with emphasis. "That's not combined, that's each. They both have 65 kills." The director stopped walking and looked down at the information on the screen. "The Hunter has 65 exo kills?"

"82, if you count nonlethal recoveries."

O'Lear scrolled further through the stats. Two was top of the list in ballistic marksmanship, offensive demolition, knife combat - everything but hand-to-hand combat, where she had the #2 ranking. "Two can't beat her mother in hand-to-hand?"

"We all think she pulls her punches when she's in the ring with Jesska. You should see the betting crowds their sparring draws. The Two crowd always loses, but they still bet on her anyway."

O'Lear looked up to see another tall woman sporting shoulder length black hair, sharp eyes and a dark purple jumpsuit take her daughter's hand to climb out of the cockpit. "Why is Jesska even in the Hunter hand-to-hand ranking in the first place?" Jesska began to walk down the stairs and Two dropped off the side to land on the floor as technicians swarmed over the craft to extract a bloody and unconscious man from a holding pod mounted on its side.

"She used to be a hunter. Her partner was taken out by a beam laser, Jesska took over piloting and returned the favor with an exposed cockpit and manual targeting alone. The squad was then ordered to retreat, but Two bailed on her Killer to join her mother as a replacement Hunter, and they finished a five-core job by themselves."

"That's… they should be court martialed!" O'Lear exclaimed.

"Maybe. But their numbers are so exceptional that their… abnormal conduct has been overlooked."

"Abnormal?" Ahead of them Jesska approached a heavy metal table. She pointed to it and commanded "Up." Two climbed lengthwise onto table, kicking several datapads and tools off the end to rest her boots on the grey metal. Jesska approached her daughter and pulled a serrated fighting knife from Two's harness, then cut the straps on it. Two's equipment clattered on the table, and was then pulled off to fall to the floor by Jesska, who continued to use the knife to sever the straps of her daughter's overalls and cut away the clothing around a number of cuts and burns on her daughter's body, the fabric falling away from stiff muscles. O'Lear commented "Christ, she's ripped.", then she thought to herself, torn might be a better word. Her eyes tracked over dozens of angry scars on the exposed patches of Two's skin, each one fading between pink and harsh red tones, indications that the wounds had not healed cleanly. The director opened her mouth to make an inquiry of the envoy beside her, but she stopped and her mouth hung open as she watched Jesska croon "Who's my good puppy?" and receive a whimper in response, and then she began to slowly lick each of her Two's fresh wounds, her tongue pressing hard and flat against each dirty burn and cut, saliva coating each spot with fresh moisture. Two began to pant and moan loudly, crying out in pleasure each time her mother's tongue pressed to a new location.

"What the fuc…" O'Lear trailed off and shut her mouth, but she could not tear her eyes away from the bizarre scene. Two's pupils were dilated massively as she stared down at her mother's face, but Jesska's eyes began to move from her daughter's body to the slowly growing crowd of techs and pilots around them. Some of their faces showed outright disgust, while others held more perverse looks of fascination as they stared. Jesska smiled and traced her tongue up her daughter's undamaged flesh, peaking at the corner of her jaw and drawing a gasp and tiny moan from her daughter. She straightened and used the point of her knife to move her daughter's chin and make her stare into her eyes, then asked "Puppy did such a good job playing nice with the target. Does puppy want its treat?" Two panted and nodded, then her eyes dropped to Jesska's body as her mother began to unzip her own jumpsuit.

O'Lear finally managed to tear her eyes away and looked to the Behavioral Committee envoy. "This is… sick."

The envoy shrugged and gave a half nod. "Maybe. But command wants them investigated, so that's why you're here."

"Just… work with their handler."

"Their handler was reassigned. You'll be serving as their handler for this assessment period."

O'Lear's eyebrows knit with indignation. "What? I don't have time for that!"

"Then delegate. The Committee wants to know if Vendetta's combat effectiveness can be replicated with a special directive or training program. They're willing to sink a lot of resources into this, so they want the most qualified person for hands-on oversight."

On the table, Jesska had switched places with her daughter, and Two was on top of her, one leg pressed between her mother's. Jesska's jumpsuit was fully unzipped and loosely pulled down past her crotch, and Two was using her thigh to help thrust the fingers of one hand in and out of her mother while she bent down to frantically kiss at her, panting and moaning into her mother's mouth with a desperate, animalistic fervor. O'Lear muttered "It looks like there's already plenty of hands-on going on already…"

The envoy said "Their previous handler reported that giving Two direct instruction was practically useless, and that ever since reassignment under her mother she basically only listens to Jesska."

"And we're letting them get away with that? With this?" She gestured at the pair on the table, their moans loud and distinct among the other sounds of the hangar, the crowd of onlookers still fixated on them and commenting among themselves.

"Take it up with the higher-ups if you want, but you should read the directive for your assignment first." The envoy took the datapad from O'Lear and navigated the display to bring up the file. "It's not a request. I'll be taking my leave now." With that, the envoy turned and walked leisurely back toward the door that she and O'Lear had entered from.

O'Lear took a minute to review the document, then she took a deep breath and mentally switched on the practices of detailed pilot behavioral assessment that she had rigorously cultivated in dozens of other handlers during her tenure as Director of Pilot Oversight Personnel. She stepped forward to stand among the other onlookers, and the first item in her assessment was that while Two was clearly stronger and in a more physically dominant position than her mother, and though Jesska's moans and exhalations were clearly legitimate and not borne of pageantry, the older woman was clearly in charge of the situation.

Even in absence of any direct stimulation of her own body, Two's fanatical arousal at getting to touch her mother was so strong that it sounded as though it were pushing her to her own orgasm, but each time the tempo and pitch of her moans would near the peak of that release, Jesska's eyes would flick open and she would push her daughter's face away from hers, eyes sharp and discerning. Her hands would travel around and pinch and squeeze in some places, smacking or digging her fingernails in others, never stopping long enough to give her daughter any real pleasure, just enough to get her to cry out or change her pace. Her fingers slipped in and out of different spots on Two's yellow leather collar and yanked it around, pulling her head away when the younger girl would try to go back in for more kisses, or pull her head back down and demand them from her daughter when Two became too focused on the movements of her own hand and body. The younger woman did not appear to care about or even notice the crowd that had gathered around them, as she was absolutely entranced and completely devoted to pleasuring her mother with her entire mind and body. It was clear to O'Lear and every other onlooker that Two was completely controlled by her mother, with no reservations or sense of self-determination left in her body or mind.

After some time Jesska's noises became more pronounced and prolonged, and she reached up to wrap two fingers through the front of Two's collar. She pushed her throat up and away from her with her grip and commanded "Up." Two let out a strangled whimper but immediately pulled away, body moving slowly backwards as Jesska rose and extended her arm to give Two more slack. When she was sitting up completely, she let go and commanded "Sit." and pointed to the ground next to the table. Two immediately threw herself to the floor and sat on her calves, staring up at her mother as Jesska rotated and scooted slightly off the table. She leaned backwards against the surface to present her pussy to her daughter, who sat fixated and outright drooling at the sight.

"Eat." Two let out a near-orgasmic sound of delight and began lapping at her mother while her moans began again. They continued to increase in pitch over time, and each time they neared what seemed to be a peak, Jesska would yank Two's head back by her ponytail and slap her before forcing her face back against her crotch. From the degree of sound and minimal amount of facial movement from each strike it was clear to O'Lear that the slaps were not intended to deliver any real amount of pain, but instead functioned as a way to refocus her daughter and pull her away from the manic fervor that was drawing Two toward an orgasm borne entirely of psychological arousal and conditioning.

Before long Jesska was just as slick with sweat as her daughter was, and her noises and moans began to lengthen and increase in pitch as they had done when she was on the table. She started to grind forcefully on her daughter's face as she worked through her selfish orgasm, her breathing definite and controlled. When she finished and pulled away, she had soaked Two from the middle of her face to the bottom of her throat, and she pulled her daughter's head back by the hair and held it in place, stating flatly "Good girl." She followed it with the command "Hands."

Immediately Two's hands dove below the remaining shreds of her overalls and she desperately pleasured herself, her noises frantic and her breathing almost panicked. Within a minute she had reached her own spastic orgasm, and Jesska pushed Two's head back into her own crotch as her daughter screamed with the pleasure of release.

Separate from her detached thoughts about the morality of the display, O'Lear had to admit that the practice seemed to be an incredibly effective way to condition the Hunter to gain pleasure from servitude, only allowing her her own physical release as a reward for performing a job effectively. As the scene came to a conclusion, the director listened to the chatter of the pilots and techs around her closely. She was not surprised to hear comments of arousal, disgust, objectification, and mentions of the hangar being an inappropriate place for such conduct, but she also heard mutterings of threats of violence toward one or both of the women in retribution for the disgust that the speakers felt. That could be a problem. While Jesska's hand-to-hand score and Two's physique and kill record left O'Lear completely unconcerned with the actual physical safety of the two while in the base, discontent of such a type could result in critical failures of teamwork in the field, and cause casualties as a result.

The director stepped forward and cleared her throat, noticing the heat between her own legs with some degree of mental discomfort. Jesska looked over to her without regard, making no visible concession to her importance until the director flashed the datapad at her, the official insignias of the HK Behavioral Committee and Invasion Command displayed in bright crimson at the corners of the screen. Jesska looked down at her daughter. "Attention." Two immediately stood, pulling and straightening the remaining scraps of her uniform and coming to attention. Jesska took longer to leisurely pull her jumpsuit back on before facing O'Lear directly. "Ma'am." O'Lear noticed that there was not a trace of shame or embarrassment in either woman's face, and in contrast to her daughter, Jesska only stood in a loose approximation of attention.

"O'Lear, Director of Pilot Oversight. I'll be commanding you as your handler starting now." Jesska laughed. "Oh, did we finally scare off Reilly?"

"No, you're under a new behavioral assessment starting now. The Committee has recognized your… unique skills and, behaviors, and they wish for me to collect data on your performance and activities."

Jesska said "I see. Anything in particular you're wanting to check on?"

"I have not been directed to provide you any details about the process or the goals of the endeavor. For now you are to continue to operate and train as normal and accept my command." Jesska nodded, then looked at Two. She pointed at her daughter, then moved her finger to point at O'Lear. "Friend." Two saluted, then relaxed to the pose the director had seen from her before at the top of the stairs, hands clasped behind her back, chest held out proudly. Curious about the choice of word, O'Lear asked "Friend? Not 'Master'?"

Jesska shook her head, maintaining strong eye contact with O'Lear. "No. I'm her Master - as you just witnessed. Jesska does what I say." O'Lear privately loathed her tone and the notion of sublimating a Hunter's command through their Killer, but she raised no objection - this was what she'd been assigned to observe and interact with. "Very well. You have the schematics for the neutron ray, correct?" Jesska nodded and gestured at her HK. "They're in Vendetta."

"Excellent. Bring them along and report to debriefing in twenty minutes. I shall meet you there." O'Lear looked up and down at Jesska's soaked jumpsuit and Two's tattered coverings. "And… find fresh uniforms first."

Four months later, O'Lear stood in front of a panel of the officials in the HK Behavioral Committee. She read her report from off a datapad:

"The 'Vendetta' Hunter-Killer team has exhibited statistically unprecedented results in training exercises and combat deployment, and in light of their performance, it is my recommendation that any drafted court-martial procedures for either of the Jesskas be dropped. This pair has shown… abnormal bonding practices, and it is my belief that these practices are key to the development of their skills and their exceptional synergy. I have designated the Jesskas as a 'bonded-pair' to be deployed exclusively together in their current Hunter-Killer mech in all future sorties."

"Based on my findings, I recommend that we should establish a special unit for finding and developing unique bonded-pairs such as these for use in special operations. While we may be able to find candidates with the existing proclivities necessary for the program in our armed forces, preliminary findings suggest that we may be able to... encourage certain behaviors with the right incentives and chemical influences."

"I believe that the bonding and chain-of-command conduct of the pairs in this special unit should be given outsized privilege and leeway to ensure the highest potential in each pair's unique aspects. It will be crucial to find appropriate handlers for each of these unique pairs. Each bonded-pair should be given at least a month of dedicated training time and have their behavior observed during all waking hours before the unique traits of the duo are shared with any potential handlers to ensure that they do not have any personal objections to the pair's practices. We will need to establish a specific position to oversee these handlers themselves as well to conduct routine interviews and audit their ongoing disposition about their assigned bonded-pair and their behaviors."

"I suggest that a separate dormitory and hangar, be established for this unit for the sake of relative privacy. However I believe that they should be directed to use the standard facilities for all other practices, including eating, training, and equipment outfitting. In addition, due to various… proclivities regarding clothing and use of emergency vehicle functions, I feel it valuable to specify a recommendation that each pair have explicit budgetary allocations for their own apparel, food, and HK maintenance expenses, rather than drawing from a shared pool for the unit."

Chapter 3: Chariot

[sweetestsixshooter]

Hunter/Killer - Chapter 1: Vendetta

The prodigal Hunter-Killer mech piloting skills of a mother and her Hound daughter elicit the creation of a new 'bonded-pair' unit in an effort to see if allowing a space for… abnormal bonding practices can create similar results. Two sisters are inducted into the program, and combat puts their intimate bond to the test, until they're forced to decide between the special privileges of their unit and their morals.

Song of the chapter: New Horizons

Four stories above the ground, a heavy thermite charge blazed brightly as it burned its way into the concrete corner of a massive industrial manufacturing plant in the dark night. Sparks burst from it as the molten iron of the charge reached the steel skeleton of the building, its little motes of fire skipping over the dull purple-black metal skin of the hulking Hunter-Killer mech beside it and down onto the the bisected legs of its unmoving foe. "Escort three is down."

"Roger that. Confirm the kill."

The Killer piloting the hefty mech regarded the fallen HK through the hole that it had made when it crashed head first through the wall for another moment, then she released her grip on the barrel of a slender, elongated high tech rifle, its slim form a distinct contrast to the mech's heavyset shoulders and blunt arms. She lifted the now empty metal arm and smashed the facade directly under the active thermite charge, overstressing the building and causing a massive chunk of it to cave in onto the torso of the lifeless mech. "Kill confirmed."

"Confirmed. Vendetta, you are authorized to move on the primary target."

"Distance?"

"Northwest. Less than a kilometer."

"Perfect." The Killer pressed a control to retract a wide panel behind her head and withdrew the blocky fusion pistol from the holster on the front of her thigh, then she handed it back to the Hunter facing forward in her own compartment to the rear. She purred "Hooound… Hunt."

The younger girl took the weapon and growled with pleasure, stitching in an affirmative "rrrrryessss-motherrrrrr", then the Killer pulled a handle and her partner slid down the hatch between the mech's legs to land smoothly on the ground between its bulky feet. The Killer called out "Don't forget your toy!" and the Hunter stepped back and leapt to grab the back of the HK and climbed to its peak, then removed a large thermite charge from the mech's rail cannon and hauled it heavily onto a magnetic harness on her back. She stomped on the Killer's hatch twice with a boot, then leapt off the craft onto a nearby roof and sprinted in the expected direction of their target.

Blocks away, fluorescent streetlights illuminated blue and white stripes on the angled legs of 'Spec de Caelo', the Resistance Coalition's flagship Hunter-Killer mech as it strode through the narrow streets of the industrial quarter. "Romeo-Charlie Four, do you copy?"

Nothing. "RC Four, do you copy?" The airwaves were full of quiet fuzz and completely devoid of response. "Romeo escorts, sound off!" The sound of static in Cane Decker's radio receiver seemed to grow as he waited in vain to hear from any of the members of his escort squad.

"Looks like we're alone out here, boss..." Apprehension colored the voice of Decker's newest Hunter, his third this month. Decker knew the man had to be feeling afraid - the Spec de Caelo had been specially targeted by Hunter-Killer squads from the Invasion forces during every operation since the Resistance's counter-offensive launched earlier that year, and every one of Decker's Hunters that had ejected on the battlefield had failed to return in one piece; that is, if they returned at all.

"We may be on our own, but I don't think we're alone. You got anything back there?" The Hunter scanned the screens mounted behind his Killer's head, each of the six panels displaying a chunk of the battlefield to the rear of the Spec de Caelo. Each screen showed a feed from one of the hardened cameras mounted on the exterior of the craft, providing the Hunter a complete view of the rear of the mech and full situational awareness to the pair of pilots - so long as the highly mobile Hunter had not been released to provide extravehicular support for the main pilot of the mech, the Killer.

"Nothing, boss." The sound of static was growing loud and ominous in the cockpit. Decker jabbed his finger into a button on the radio panel to cut it off, and in the silence he could hear the harried breathing of his partner through the open panel between them. Decker paused the motion of his HK in the junction of an L-intersection and considered their options. They were still closer to their outpost than the twelve kilometers left to their headquarters, and they could probably still retreat safely, but they had already lost four escort mechs since the start of the mission, and the sheer speed of the destruction and the proximity to their outpost indicated that a retreat likely would leave Decker pinned in the outpost with no window to get the schematic for the 'handheld' neutron ray to the science team at HQ. That weapon could turn the tide of the conflict, allowing Resistance HKs to simply sweep a beam across enemy mechs and break down the organic tissue of the pilots' flesh inside with no regard for the armor plating. On the other hand, even with the importance of his intel in mind, Decker had gotten a reputation for losing Hunters, and he was loathe to have the blood of another on his hands. Spooked by not having heard the sounds of a more pronounced engagement in the operational area, Decker made his decision. In explicit disregard for his mission protocols, he took a deep breath and began to direct his current partner to eject and retreat to the outpost. "… Buck, I want you to"

"Wait, boss. I've got something back here. Something up high, 4 o'clock."

Decker paused. "What is i—" As his eyes flicked back to his own displays, he saw something that flushed icy adrenaline through his heart and hands - a cone of red particles was beginning to slowly coalesce into a tight line pointed directly at the ballistic cannon in his mech's hands. His eyes traced up the iridescent red path up to the tip of a beam rifle, its ominous glowing eye vaguely illuminating the carapace of a dark mech, its top-heavy sloping silhouette distinct on a roof a quarter of a kilometer further down the road ahead of him. His partner's words forgotten in the light of that fearsome weapon, he prepared to dodge, planning to juke back and forth behind the building to his right and then use the ten second cooling window of the beam cannon to close the distance on the enemy and eliminate them. He waited until the very last moment possible when a blazing red dot formed directly on the bulk of his weapon, then he jerked his craft to the side and behind the mass of the building next to him. His hands clenched tight on the controls, ready to leap back in the opposite direction and race forward as soon as the bright flash of the beam passed - but the flash didn't come.

"Boss! To the rear!" Startled, Decker's hand jerked in his poised direction and the mech juked back around the corner as he had planned, but once he properly registered his Hunter's outcry he spun the HK around to face whatever threat was behind them. He saw a dark form falling from above and heard a heavy thud as it landed on the top of their hull and shattered the lens of one of the outer cameras. It immediately moved over the curve of the hull and out of his view, and he could hear a heavy metallic clang and the clunk of a locking mechanism cranking shut.

Buck cried out, his voice frantic. "We've been boarded and they attached something back here — release me!" Decker hesitated. Now that the enemy was upon them, he was loathe to release his newest Hunter, afraid of putting him in the line of fire. Whatever they'd attached was probably just a bomb, and that was fine - HK mechs had hardened plating over the Hunter compartments, and Decker didn't know of any handheld bomb with a yield high enough to punch through. Buck might be a bit dazed from the blast, but he wouldn't be seriously hurt. He cranked the controls to swing the mech's arms and weapon up and over the carapace to knock off the boarder, but the dark form leapt back over the front of the mech before contact to grab onto an outcropping on the building.

Buck called out "Rear! Again!" Decker spun the mech back around to see the beam cannon charging again, targeting the direct center of the Caelo. He raised his ballistic cannon and prepared to fire, even though the target was well out of the ideal range for his weapon, but then he heard the muffled sound of a fusion pistol's beam burning into the rear of the mech. He fired one clumsy shot from his ballistic cannon before the bright white sparks of a thermite charge burst around his peripheral view.

"Fuck! Eject me you bastard or you're gonna get me killed too!" Panic was evident in the Hunter's voice - the thermite charge would burn through the hardened armor in less than a minute and cook him alive if he was still in the compartment. The boxy weapon in the Spec de Caelo's hand leaned toward the concrete as Decker's hand came off the controls and he pulled the eject lever. His eyes tracked the cannon's barrel as it tilted downwards, and he saw something that made the bottom of his heart fall out. A dot of focus from his enemy's beam cannon had coalesced at the bottom of his mech's torso, and he watched it trace down further to focus between its legs. The bright red beam sliced into the empty space right as Decker's Hunter slid out of his hatch, and he was completely bisected by the energy beam, the two halves of his body slumping onto the pavement and falling in different directions. The enemy Killer twitched the powerful laser beam sideways, burning away half the knee of Decker's HK, causing it to collapse forward, pinning the ballistic cannon between its weight and the ground.

As he fought to try to free his weapon from under the tons of steel, Decker knew that he should feel fear for his own life, and that he should feel like a failure for failing to get his critical intel to HQ, but the only thing in his heart as he struggled in vain was disgust with himself for getting outplayed and getting another good Hunter killed. There was a sudden burst of static from the radio, before it faded and resolved into a leering female voice, full of mirth and sadistic mockery. "Oh look, Cane got another one of his Hunters killed… Do you get extra rations for running the Resistance's kill-shelter for unwanted mutts?" A cackle of laughter erupted over the feed from a second voice, vindictive and cruel.

Decker yelled back at the speaker. "Those were people! Good men and women, fighting for a just cause that they believe in!" The reply from Vendetta's pilot came instantly, and Decker could hear the smirk on her face, dripping with so much mockery that it made Decker feel sick. "And that's why they died. A true Hunter is a tool, a powerful tool, a delicious tool, to be sicced on a target and let off the chain. Now, Hound! Fetch!"

Decker felt another heavy thump in the metal behind him and he turned his attention from the controls of his HK to the straps of his harness, desperately trying to free himself in the partially collapsed cockpit. He could hear the sizzle of the invading Hunter's fusion pistol expanding the hole burnt through the steel two and a half meters behind him, and he finally managed to get loose and turn around in the cramped space, but then he had to duck aside as a large chunk of metal fell into the mech, its edges sharp and white hot. Frantically, he yanked his own fusion pistol from his holster and pointed it up at the hole, squeezing the trigger and flailing around the barrel wildly. Against all odds, he managed to tag his adversary's hand, causing it to spasm and release the weapon it held, and the sidearm fell into the cockpit next to Decker's head. He thanked whatever deities were on call that night and snatched it up, pointing both upwards, a finger on each trigger. He called out, trying and failing to sound more confident than he felt, "You don't have to do this! You don't have to do what your officers tell you! You can leave, you can join us!" He could hear a smug growl above him. "Oh, I'm not doing this because command told me to." The distinctive sound of a pin popped in the night as she said 'command', and Decker's heart stopped as he saw the small rounded shape of a concussion grenade drop through the smoking hole above him. It detonated half a meter above him, slamming his back against the front of the cockpit, his hands smacking against the sides and jarring the weapons out of his grip.

Vertigo and nausea burst in his head and stomach, and he struggled to regain control of his body as a pair of heavy combat boots fell into the hole and landed on the rear display panels of the Hunter compartment above, cracking the glass and sending sparks into the air. Two identical sadistic smiles swam sickeningly in double vision as his enemy crooned "I'm doing this because mother told me to." The enemy Hunter crouched and stuck her leg through the opening between compartments to slam the heel of her boot into his face, cracking his head against the screens behind him and shattering his vision into painful black and white shards. As the bright spots in his vision faded into blackness and unconsciousness dragged him into its depths, he could dimly hear that smug voice cooing through the radio again. "Gooood hound! Looks like you get a treat tonight!"

Chapter 2: Hangar

[sweetestsixshooter]

Hunter/Killer - Chapter 5: Bonded-Pairs

Freshly recovered from her combat injury, Dawn accompanies her sister Sunset to the mess hall, where they get the chance to speak to the Jesskas, whose legendary performance predicated the creation of the bonded-pair unit they enlisted in.

Chapter 4

Song of the chapter: Cold Steel

Dawn did not start the argument during the two months of her recovery, feeling that a fresh wound would make Sunset psychologically inflexible and render the conversation useless. Eventually, after exuberant praise from their handler about Dawn's newest score in a marksmanship rally, Dawn ruminated on how to start the conversation while she and Sunset sat next to each other at one of the tables in the mess hall, eating identical modest rations. The pilots further down the table chattered incessantly, talking about past missions, kill counts, the attractiveness of various technicians, and the progress of the current operations. Without preamble, Two sat down across from the sisters with two of her own standard issue rations without speaking. Even over the din, Dawn heard a rude noise from further down the table, and she turned to see another pilot sneering at the hound as he stood up and walked away to loudly smack his plate down on another table.

Dawn commented "I wonder what that was about?" A sleek voice from behind them responded "That's the Killer that Jesska ditched in the Incurseo campaign to find me and finish the mission we were assigned properly." At the word 'Jesska', Two lifted her gaze to stare past the sisters, her eyes glued to her mother as Jesska rounded the table to sit next to her daughter. Dawn's mouth watered as she surveyed the luxurious selection of food that the older pilot set down next to Two's spartan rations; steaming slices of medium-rare steak, exotic vegetables, and a small array of colorful sweets and confections. Dawn had begun to spend more and more of she and her sister's collective budget on modifications to her rifle and Chariot, and Sunset felt envious of the decadent budgetary choices of the lead Killer in the bonded-pair unit.

Jesska picked up a sheaf of four graham crackers and passed them to her daughter. "Last." Two nodded and replied quickly and firmly. "Yes, mother." She took the crackers and set them aside, turning to consume her rations with fervor. Her mother speared a chunk of romanesco broccoli and chewed it before elaborating. "I think Jesska was already ravenous for a more competent Killer, and Gina dying was the perfect excuse for her to spend more time with her mother." Dawn was sure that the undisguised mockery in Jesska's tone would have started a fight if the pilot who had left the table had overheard, but knowing Two's record for protectiveness, it would likely have resulted in the man ending up on the floor, either disfigured, dead, or both. Jesska reached up and ran her fingers through Two's hair and scratched her scalp, and the younger woman's fork paused in mid air as her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned into the touch as a small, low moan vibrating from her throat.

Everyone in the unit knew the story. While Two's actions had been explicit disobedience of protocol and nearly got her court martialed, the Jesskas' overwhelming success in that mission and their subsequent deployments had been the catalyst for the creation of the bonded-pair unit. Until then Sunset and Dawn had been part of the standard armed forces, constantly fearing for each other's lives in different squads and missions, but then the closeness of their relationship was observed during their free time, and it prompted their assessment for the special program.

Dawn had no comment and simply gave an affirmative noise, but Sunset surprised her by addressing Two. "We're glad you did. Saved us from the infantry." Dawn looked over to her, and Sunset reached out to take her hand and gave it a squeeze with a warm smile.

Two finished wolfing down her rations without response while Jesska continued to slowly eat her food, each motion smooth and languid. When she finally spoke, her comment was praising. "You saved yourselves from the infantry. You're talented." Dawn's face warmed, and she could feel from the heat and pressure from Sunset's hand that she felt bashful at the compliment too. Jesska turned her attention to Dawn specifically. "Your recovery seems to have gone well; I saw you tied with Jesska for marksmanship, almost back to your old number one spot. Hound's going to have to step it up and make sure she takes it back and keeps it, or she's not going to get any treats for a while." Jesska punctuated her comment by reaching out with two fingers and plucking a graham cracker out of Two's hand.

The three pilots with food remaining in front of them returned to eating, and Two looked idly around the room. Jesska lazily perused the items on her plate, while Sunset and Dawn each used their forks to steal various items of preference from each other's portions. Sunset's fingers had been glued to her sister's hand ever since she grabbed it, and she occasionally gave small squeezes, seemingly at random. Dawn finished her drink, and Sunset placed her own in between them to share, of which Dawn took a small sip. The action caught Jesska's attention once again, and she turned to Two. "You know puppy, you almost had a sister like Sunset here. The brass told me to end it when they redrafted me. What would you have thought of that?" Two turned and cocked her head. "What would you have done with two puppies?"

Jesska laughed and scratched behind her daughter's ears. "I suppose so, daughter. If you'd had a sister that you loved as much as these two, you'd never need your mother like you do." Jesska took Two's chin in her hand and pulled her into a long kiss. Eventually she pulled away and stared deep into Two's eyes, then firmly commanded "Go play. Rifles." Two's eyes sparked, and she leapt up from the table and bounded off in the direction of the combat ranges. Jesska turned back to the sisters with a smile on her face. "You know Dawn, you could learn something from Jesska. If you were more obedient like her, maybe your sister would let you off the leash more often…"

Dawn couldn't tell if Jesska's tone had been deliberately mocking or if her outlook was just fundamentally one of dominance and obedience, but either way she had hit a nerve. Dawn's face colored and she looked down at the table, pulling her hand back from Sunset's to rest in her lap. Jesska's attitude became clearer as she turned to Sunset, her tone balanced on the fulcrum between smugness and mockery. "Or… maybe you just can't handle not having your third eye watching your back." Sunset did not look away, but she not-so-subtly groped for Dawn's hand under the table, found it, and when she couldn't fit her fingers into Dawn's balled fist, she instead simply placed hers on top and gave it a firm and unending squeeze. Sunset replied with more ice in her voice than Dawn had heard from her in years. "We do just fine, thank you very much."

Jesska smirked and tossed the spare graham cracker from her plate across the table onto Sunset's plate, then she left, hips swinging with deliberate swagger as she stalked off to follow Two to the ranges.

After stopping by the medbay for Sunset's daily stim injection and the last of Dawn's halved recovery doses, the walk back to the dormitory was silent and tense. Though Sunset tried to intertwine her fingers with Dawn's, her sister did not let the grip last for more than a few seconds before pulling away and crossing her arms as they walked. They finally reached their shared bed in the bonded-pair dorm and sat down, Dawn facing away, shoulders hunched and arms tight against her sides. Sunset stared at the back of her head, emotions roiling in her chest and making her feel like both the architect and victim of her sister's discontent. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Dawn, resting her chin in the crook of her shoulder and speaking into her ear. "You know I just want you to be safe, right? It's not that I don't trust you."

Dawn pushed her off and turned around. "Sunset, I love you so much, but I think the thick hull of the cockpit is making your skull thick." She laid into a diatribe, her words sounding rehearsed. "I think you forget what job we have, what we do. What my job is. I don't climb into Chariot behind you just to stare at camera displays and look handsome; you could make do with any dumbass fresh from training for that, and we didn't transfer to this unit just so we can fuck in the dorm and so I can be your damn mechanic." She shook her head and stared hard into Sunset's eyes. "You need to remember, that I am your sister because we were born together, I am in bed with you because I love you, and I am your Hunter because I'm the best goddamn marksman on this planet, and I need you to let me do my damn job!"

"But—"

Dawn threw up her hands and leaned back on the frame of the bed. "No, not 'but' anything! I don't train every single day so that I can sit on my ass. You may be some savant Killer that's never had to try, but I try really hard to keep up with you. Living with you like this is in the bonded-pair unit is better. I'm not going back to infantry deployment, and I'm sure as hell not going back to the street." Dawn's voice drifted from anger to a more rueful tone as her mind swirled with the memory of her dream about fighting on the street months ago. Sunset breathed in, about to speak, but Dawn spoke first, her voice quiet. "You… you know why I started to do the extra mods on Chariot?" She stopped to take a deep breath. "Because I've felt useless getting babysat in your backpack every mission." Her voice started to quiver, staring down at her splayed fingers. "At least… at least I can feel a little proud if the grease under my fingernails can contribute to our record, even if my trigger finger doesn't get to—" Dawn's shoulders twitched, and Sunset was surprised to see a sob hitch in her sister's chest as she pinched at the sheets. "Sometimes it feels like the only time you care what my trigger finger can do is in this bed…" Dawn's final word was so choked that it barely left her mouth, and Sunset's heart tore in half as she watched her sister openly cry for the first time in her life. Sunset's hands clutched into fists and she held them against her head for a moment, before opening them and pulling them back to grasp the back of her neck, watching Dawn's tears fall to splash on her own fists. The pressure in Sunset's head built, and she leaned far forward to take her sister's head in her shaky hands, lifting it to stare into her eyes. "Dawn, I just want you to be safe!"

"Sunset!" Dawn's hands jerked up and grabbed her sister's forearms, fire burning under the water in her eyes. "We are hunters and we are killers! We are on this rock to fucking kill, and everyone out there is here to kill us! You can't hide me from that! I know you feel so fucking safe with all that steel around you, but you might get killed any second out there, just like me! You think I'm not scared of you dying? Well I am! I'm terrified! I have nightmares about you taking a rocket to the cockpit that I could have stopped if I just had my finger on a trigger! … The only reason I can sleep at night is because you're in my arms…" Dawn's voice broke again, and Sunset began bawling and threw herself at her sister, wrapping her arms around her neck and sobbing into her shoulder. "I'm sorry!" Sunset cried.

Dawn paused before reaching her arms up and stroking her sister's back for a moment, then she stopped completely and dropped her hands back into her lap. Her breathing slowed, and she waited for her sister's breathing to do the same. It took a whole minute. Dawn asked "What does that mean." Sunset sniffled and pulled back, tears drying on a confused face. "What?"

All the wavering had gone from Dawn's voice as she explained "What does that mean, Sun? Does that mean you're going to stop babysitting me? Does 'sorry' mean you're going to let me out to do my job? Cause we can sit here and you can cry and then we kiss and make up like usual, and then you keep locking me in my compartment and this can get to me on every fucking deployment from now until forever, or you can match your 'sorry' by following through on it and actually listen to me and let me do my damn job." Sunset's heart felt like burning coals, and her eyes glistened with tears and fear.

Dawn leaned forward and pressed her head to Sunset's. "So please, Sun. Tell me that things will be different. I know you need me to be safe, and I want to be safe, but the only way for me to feel safe is by hunting. If you can't do this, we can't be this. We can't live this way, free to be with each other and love each other openly in a place where we can go to sleep with a guaranteed blanket over us and food in our stomachs. We have to work as a pair, a bonded-pair, like we're supposed to be, like we are. We always will be, no matter where we are, but if we can't be the team we're supposed to be, we'll have to leave the unit and end up back on the street again, and then neither of us can ever be safe again. At least here we can put a ballistic cannon and a fifty cal in between us and the things that make us unsafe." Dawn pulled her head back and lifted Sunset's chin to kiss her, one firm contact before she pulled away. "Sun. Promise me."

Sunset's eyes were desperate. "I do! I will. I mean, I promise. I promise. You call for ejection and…" She took a deep breath, then sat back on her haunches and let the breath out slowly, hands shaking fiercely as she wrung them in her lap. "… I'll deploy you. I promise." Another deep breath, this one held and let out with each word. "Just… remind me, okay?" Dawn's head cocked. "Sun, I don't want to have to remind you."

Fresh tears poured down Sunset's face, and she scrunched her eyes closed to stop them. "I'm sorry, just… do it for me?" Dawn's eyes were hard when Sunset opened her own to look at her. Under the pressure of Dawn's gaze, Sunset continued "You were right. Earlier. I'm never afraid when I'm in the cockpit. It's me, it feels right, it feels like an extension of my body, the best I've ever been at anything. The only time I'm afraid is when you're not with me. Every time I pull that handle it's hard to think and my heart is full of broken glass, and every moment you're outside of that compartment it feels like there's a weight on my back that won't go away until you climb back up behind me again. I lose more of my situational awareness from the distraction of you being away from me than I do from you not watching the cameras."

Dawn reached out to hold Sunset's cheek, then she leaned forward to give her a tender kiss, her lips lingering, tasting the salt from the tears on her soft skin. She released and moved to rest her forehead on Sunset's again. "… Okay. If you promise, I'll remind you of your promise. As long as you do your best to remember too." The two of them stayed like that for a long time, Sunset's breath occasionally hitching.

Eventually Dawn leaned back and lifted Sunset's face to meet her eyes. "And hey; two things. One: I'll keep my mic on at all times when I'm exo so you can always hear me. Would that help you focus?" Sunset nodded, a pursed smile on her lips in contrast with the tears in her eyes. Dawn continued with a warm smile of her own. "It'll block other signals, but it's not like we listen to handler while we're in the field anyway." Sunset laughed, and tension faded from her shoulders as she took a deep breath and released it.

"Two; I have an idea. I think there's some higher powered radios we can req so that the open connection doesn't get interrupted if I have to go longer distances from you. Skip the hot showers with me for a couple weeks, and we should have the budget for it. Deal?" Sunset smiled and giggled from the release of tension, and her breath caught in a hiccup. She grinned. "As long as you help warm me up after the cold ones!" She continued to nervously giggle, and Dawn pulled her close, petting her hair and feeling each of her cute hiccups vibrate her body. Eventually the twitches stopped, and Sunset pulled back to stare at Dawn, doe-eyed. "Dawn, do you think… can we still do that 'kiss and make up' part that we usually do?"

Feeling emotionally fatigued by the conversation and sedate from weeks with only a limited stims, Dawn was frankly not in the mood for it, but she'd never been able to tell her sister 'No' when their lives weren't at stake. She chose to kiss Sunset as a response to avoid needing to actually say 'Yes' when it didn't feel right, and steadily the heat and momentum of Sunset's kisses built. Dawn reached out toward Sunset's body to fill the sexually dominant role that she had performed ever since the night of that combat assessment, a carnal extension of the comforting role that she'd filled ever since Sunset fearfully asked her for a kiss 'just to feel really loved' on that day eight years ago when they realized their parents were never coming back. Her fingers brushed against Sunset's ribs and drifted up to her breast, gently groping at the soft flesh with her thumb and palm, then she drifted down to her sister's waist, moving underneath her waistband and toward her heat, skipping almost all of their usual foreplay in an effort to simply sate Sunset.

But then she surprised Dawn by pulling backwards and out of her reach, eyes set and firm. Sunset took a deep, bracing breath, and pushed Dawn back down onto the dorm bed with a flat palm on her chest. "No. This time, I want to really show you that I mean it. How much you mean to me - all of you."

Chapter 5.5: Bonding Practices (Smut, optional)

Chapter 6: Juggernaut

[sweetestsixshooter]

Hunter/Killer - Chapter 6: Juggernaut

Fresh from an argument about independence and protectiveness, Sunset and her sister Dawn deploy in Chariot alongside Jesska and Two in Vendetta, with the task of taking down a Resistance admiral in a powerful Juggernaut mech.

Chapter 5

Song of the chapter: Akira

"Vendetta Two, deploying."

Chariot dodged left and right in quick succession, trying to use its superior mobility to get an angle to fire past the car that the squat white enemy HK held up between them as cover. They'd been locked in this dance for nearly half a minute, and Sunset knew that she would need to reload soon, at which point the enemy would gain the advantage and possibly take her down. She quickly formulated a plan, ready to dash forward and slam Chariot's fist into the car to knock the enemy balance and hopefully bowl the mech over. After three running steps forward there was suddenly a burst of fire from a high window in a building behind the enemy, and smoke streaked toward the enemy HK's leg. The missile exploded against the back of its knee and it canted backwards, collapsing to the ground with the car it was using for cover atop its good leg. Sunset closed the remaining distance and adjusted the motion of her outstretched arm to instead grab the weapon of the fallen mech and wrench the barrel away, then she dug the barrel of her own ballistic cannon into its canopy and emptied the rest of her magazine into it, pounding the plating of its cockpit and bursting through to shred the pilot inside and demolish the last of the enemy scouts.

Sunset moved to replace the massive magazine of her cannon from the reservoir on Chariot's side, and as she turned to survey the scene she could hear over the radio, "Vendetta Two, returned." Two had been in and out of her Hunter compartment four times this deployment, and she had contributed critical assistance to two of Chariot's five kills in the last thirty minutes, while Dawn had remained in Chariot the whole time, providing perfect rear directional awareness with no protest. Sunset called out "Thanks, Vendetta Two. Moving to locate the primary target." She received a small growl in response, and Sunset could swear that she heard a cocky smile on the hound's mouth as the noise vibrated over the radio. Sunset closed the channel and turned in her seat to look at Dawn over her shoulder through the open panel between them. "How you doing, Dawn?" Dawn looked forward at her, face relaxed and unconcerned. She nodded, clearly aware of what her sister was checking on. "I'm good. Ready to proceed."

Twenty minutes later, Chariot rounded a corner into a long road between a series of skyscrapers, acquired her target, and fired. She was engaged in a flanking maneuver, circling around behind the mission's target, the bulky green Juggernaut mech, Vae de Scutifer. The machine was massive, with thick and powerful arms built for brawls at close range, and more than three dozen rocket pods on its back for longer range encounters, each holding eight individual homing missiles. Sunset's sights were set on one of its escorts, a slim black and white HK unit, its back turned away from Sunset while it fired an ultra-high caliber Vindicator rifle at the leader of the mission, designated 'Celsius'. The powerful HK sniping weapons had kept him pinned down behind buildings effectively enough for him to send Vendetta and Chariot in a high-risk maneuver around the enemy's rear.

Sunset's rounds tore up the unsuspecting enemy's right arm and the weapon fell from its hands, demolishing the car under it. Sunset pushed ahead and sprinted right past it to Scutifer's other side, knowing that time was of the essence in handling the other escort, relying on Vendetta close behind to use its beam rifle to finish the kill on the previous target. Chariot closed on the second escort as it turned to face them and she gave it a hard shoulder tackle, then reached out to yank the weapon away with her free hand. She considered firing her ballistic cannon at it point blank, but then made a split second decision and dodged backwards, continuing the evasive motion with as fast a backwards run as the HK could manage. She looked to the right, ready for Scutifer's counterattack. She had studied footage of the main target in the hours before the sortie, and its pilot, Admiral Nickelson, was known for a hyper aggressive fighting style and being fiercely defensive of his allies during battle. Sunset's blood felt like it was made of adrenaline, and she tensed, ready to dodge the incoming punch—

But it didn't come. The thick green mech had backed away from her. Off to one side Sunset could see the first of the escorts fall, a red beam punching through the weak armor plating on its side and through the center of the machine. The oversized commanding mech in the center of the street had to have picked up the kill on its sensors, but its pilot didn't seem to either notice or care, much less shift its focus to its ally's killer in the way that Sunset would have expected. The Juggernaut continued to backpedal on its square legs, firing a cluster of homing missiles up into the air, where they turned to track Chariot. Sunset called for flares and Dawn fired them, dispersing all but one of the missiles, which Sunset dodged without paying it any real attention. Instead she stared past it at the target as it retreated away from its own escort. This had to be a trick. Pilots didn't just change their fighting style on a dime, they were all too cocky for that. A symptom of the trade.

But, the resistance was starting to get desperate, so maybe they were trying new tactics. Sunset dropped her ballistic cannon and raised the stolen vindicator rifle, continuing the previously established plan to provoke reckless attacks from the main target to allow Vendetta to lash out with its powerful weapon when an opportunity exposed itself. She fired directly at the center of the remaining escort mech as it backed away, trying and failing to keep pace with its commander. The HK dodged the first shot, but by the time that momentum ended, Sunset had already fired a round to both its left and right sides at the exact distances that a flat horizontal dodge could reach, and her second round punched into its torso, causing it to stagger backwards and present an easy target for a follow up shot that hit it in a hip and caused it to collapse onto the road, roughly catching itself with its heavy metal arms.

There was no change in Nickelson's movement. His mech continued to back away, a quarter of the way to the building that Sunset's captain was taking cover behind. Sunset threw her arms up in exasperation, unconsciously moving the controls to raise Chariot's arms rather than her own. The Juggernaut fired another rocket cluster at her, seemingly in response to the motion. At this range the homing missiles were trivial for Sunset to dodge, and she didn't even bother calling for flares, just juking her controls back and forth as each approached. The sitting escort's usefulness had clearly passed, so when the last missile flew by Sunset locked Chariot's stance and pounded three rounds straight through the seated HK's cockpit, and it collapsed to the ground.

Nickelson's response was to turn and run. Sunset knew that she shouldn't be disappointed, that the target was being flushed directly toward the team leader and that his prototype weapon would likely finish the fight in seconds, but she couldn't help feeling mad; this wasn't going to earn her any bragging rights. This wasn't fun. Fighting a target as it ran away was pathetic. She raised the vindicator rifle again and fired the last of its rounds, punching cleanly into one of Scutifer's rocket pods and detonating it, canting the mech forward for a moment in its slow run. Now Sunset at least knew the Juggernaut's primary weakness - not that it really mattered. She tossed down the vindicator rifle and picked up her own ballistic cannon again, then keyed the radio. "Celsius, primary target incoming, twenty seconds."

The pilot's nasal voice responded, speaking slowly. "I hope he's hungry, cause he's about to get toasted." Sunset groaned, and Dawn made a rude noise, deriding "What a stupid fucking line." Sunset asked her sister "We clear back there?" Dawn confirmed, and then indicated to Vendetta over the radio that they were moving to catch up with the target. Chariot slowed to allow the hefty purple mech to fall into step with it as they ran down the center of the road, watching the corner where their leader was waiting to spring on the admiral. Jesska spoke up, her tone more formal than normal as she addressed her temporary superior "Celsius, you should show yourself now, so that the target slows his approach and we can catch up to reinforce you."

Celsius' Hunter spoke up this time, his voice low and jealous. "Not a chance, we're not going to let you steal another kill out from under us." Jesska scoffed over the open channel, then said with frost in her tone "Understood. Twelve seconds." Vendetta and Chariot's speeds were only slightly greater than that of their heavyset quarry, and the seconds ticked away as the Juggernaut approached the corner. Jesska called out with ice and acid in her tone "Now, leader."

The curved red form of Celsius leapt around the corner of the building, hardly two hundred meters in front of the Vae de Scutifer. It leveled its weapon and held the trigger, but the massive opponent had not slowed down at all at the sudden appearance of an enemy, and before the device in Celsius' hands could fire, the admiral's mech reached him and lifted its massive fist up and slammed it down onto the captain's cockpit. A vicious crunch sounded over the radio before it cut off and burst into static, and at the same time a sadistic cackle cut into the audio feed; Two must have been staring through the open compartment panel in Vendetta at her mother's displays when the pilots of Celsius were brutally executed. Jesska and Sunset both cut the captain's signal from the radio feed as they ran, Jesska giving her own dark chuckle at the outcome of their ex-leader's audacity as she spoke to Chariot. "Serves the brass right for putting the ray in the hands of those clowns." She changed the subject. "If we try to flank the Juggernaut he's just going to run off again."

Sunset replied "Which is weird. When does Nickelson ever run? We killed two other resistance guys right in front of him and he didn't lift a finger to help." Jesska's reply sounded amused. "True enough. I'd think he had something up his sleeve, except the only thing under his sleeve right now is red paint." She laughed again. Sunset stayed focused on tactics. "His rocket pods are delicate. I'll circle around and keep him focused on us so you can hit them with your laser." Jesska teased "Oh, and you don't mind me stealing the kill out from under you?"

Having closed enough distance to fire, Sunset began shooting at the Juggernaut's legs, targeting its joints. "Fucking around is clearly going to get us killed. I don't care if it's an assist as long as me and my sister get home safe." She pushed forward at a sprint, her rounds not accurate enough at that speed to do any real damage, but she did catch the attention of the big mech. Lacking the 360 degree awareness of the smaller HKs with Hunters watching the rear, it had to finish tearing its hand out of the downed HK and turn around to see what was happening. It raised its fists into a boxer's guard to protect its cockpit from the fire, and as Sunset closed to near zero distance she focused fire on its left arm. At that range she could see the tiny movements of her adversary's mech as it prepared to strike out at her with its powerful right fist, and she dodged to her own right just in time to bypass the strike and rush straight past the Juggernaut. She yanked on her controls to spin Chariot around and start firing at the rocket pods mounted high on its back, bursting four more of them.

The admiral turned the ponderous mass of his mech as quickly as he could to face her and raised its arms into a guard again, then he rushed forward at Chariot. The smaller HK retreated, but before the admiral could close enough distance to strike out again, Vendetta's beam rifle fired from behind him and it cut a horizontal swath through the bottom of the two rows of its rocket pods. A mass of explosions forced the vehicle down onto its front ten meters in front of Chariot, debris scattering from the ruined machinery on its back. Sunset backed off and fired enough flak rounds at its top to be confident that she'd destroyed all of the mech's exposed cameras, then she switched on the close range radio frequency. "You still alive in there, admiral?"

All she heard in response was a growled "Fuck you" before she saw a millisecond of rockets igniting in the undamaged top row of rocket pods on the Scutifer's back, their horizontal angle pointing them directly at Chariot. Sunset immediately began firing the flak rounds again, targeting the left side of the rocket array and dodging in that direction simultaneously. The shrapnel detonated half the rockets as they left their ports, and those explosions tore apart the rest of the rocket array while the other half flew harmlessly past. When the strays impacted, Dawn called out "Building's coming down, four o'clock, two hundred meters. We're clear."

Vendetta approached the fallen Juggernaut from the rear, surveying the opening the explosions had created in its back. "Admiral, this is Vendetta One, ordering you to report your status." Jesska's voice filled the radio feed with oily condescension, and the target gave no reply. "Mmm. Hound, kill." Two slid from between the legs of Vendetta and landed on the ground, a rotary grenade launcher in her hands. She sprinted forward to bound up the side of the fallen craft and approached the hole in its back, then fired six fragmentation grenades into the hole. Sunset could hear a single wet sound of pain over the radio among the explosions, then Two barked out a laugh. "Kill confirmed, mother!" Jesska purred "Goood hound! An admiral's a new record for your highest ranked kill, so you get a treat tonight!" Two gave an excited growl, reloaded her launcher, then climbed back into Vendetta.

Sunset didn't necessarily consider emptying grenades into the Vae de Scutifer to be a proper kill confirmation, but she didn't feel like pressing the point. "Alright, I'll make the report. It'll be Two's kill on the record, and we'll take the assist." Before she could change the radio channel to contact her handler, Dawn said something that made her pause. "Wait. I've got another signal on the sensors here. Max range, heading north. The direction we just came from." Sunset checked her ammunition readout, then swapped out Chariot's magazine. "We'll check it out."

Jesska purred again. "Have fun, children!"

Chapter 7: Treason