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Dachs was sure something was wrong.
She had been prepared for trouble from the moment she was birthed; braced for the brutal introduction that every fledgling STAR faced for intruding upon the established order of an existing cadre.
The first couple of cycles went as expected. Her involuntary mentor, Bär, seemed to begrudge her very existence, and through her Dachs learned much.
Like exactly how hard Bär could hit when she wanted to.
Those fearsome, blugeonous fists never aimed their full fury at her though; it was always the wall centimetres away from her head, or the cabinet she was just about to open, or kicking out at the legs of her bunk (resulting in a now slanted bed, which provided an interesting sleeping angle, to say the least). She didn't hesitate to push her around though. Usually at an inconvenient time, like when she was carrying her tray at the mess hall one evening, resulting in her dropping food all over the floor.
"Oops," said Bär, unapologetically. "Looks like you'll have to eat it off the floor, Dud. We only get one allocation."
"It's Dachs," she replied resolutely, looking her mentor in the eye as she carried her now empty tray to the starling table, earning nothing more than a sneer.
She'd spent the meal looking defiantly at her tray as the others ate. At least until an evenly-split ration bar entered her field of view.
She turned to the source, and tried not to flinch in surprise as she was met with Hyäne's stare.
"Eat," she said.
"Ah, that's okay, I-"
But the STAR leader cut her off.
"Eat." She repeated firmly, and it wasn't a question. "I will not have an underperforming starling at inspection tomorrow."
She turned to the rest of the table.
"Isn't that right?" She asked, the words a loaded gun.
Lightning-quick, and with a synchronicity that caught Dachs off guard, the entire table filled with "Yes ma'am."
Hyäne turned her eyes to Bär, who seemed to look a little worried then. It seemed the timing wasn't just inconvenient for Dachs. She had felt an indulgent curl of satisfaction at the prospect of the starling being embarrassed in front of the group.
Sometimes Löwin would join in on the harassment, tripping her down the stairwell or shoving her into the back of her mentor as to cause her to become irrationally angry in her direction.
The others seemed more inclined to cow her through mere ignorance, often avoiding her altogether or looking deliberately over her head during conversations, as if she simply didn't exist.
Dachs didn't mind. She would bare her teeth, confront and hiss. Show her mentor she wouldn't crumble. Show the rest that she could be as big as they were. This was the way; she knew it by instinct.
It seemed to have paid off, and when she felt the white-hot sting of burning plastic on her shoulderblade the night of the seventh cycle, she knew she had been baptised in smoke. That she had passed the first test.
What was odd though, was that since then all efforts to intimidate her had stopped almost completely. Instead their attempts now felt...hesitant. Half-hearted.
Bär, who had once followed her like an unpleasant, tormenting smell, now avoided her completely. Some evenings, from the corner of her eye, she could see her giving a weird look from the table before looking back at her cards.
She wasted no time in confronting her new comrades over the issue.
"Heh, maybe we're just getting soft," Eber waved her off, not meeting her eyes as she picked at the point of her curved blade.
"I mean...I can hit you if you want? Tryna do that less these days though; my girl hates me gettin' rowdy," grinned Wölfin from the wrong side of her face.
"Look. You did good. Means I'm not gonna go as hard from now on, yeah?" Said Bär, not looking at Dachs or Löwin as her fingers knit together tightly at her knees from where she sat at her bunk.
Löwin said nothing at all.
Liars.
Hyäne seemed to be the only one willing to be honest with her. The piercing, unblinking eyes of the cadre leader settled curiously over hers as she spoke through her mask.
"I believe it has something to do with a predecessor who shared your name. I didn't exist at the time so I couldn't tell you more."
She paused for a moment, considering, before she continued.
"I think, perhaps, if you press Bär, she will tell you, though I imagine the outcome may be...unpleasant."
Dachs blinked. Sometimes she forgot that Hyäne only had a few years on her. She nodded her thanks and left.
She would have to wait for an opportune moment. One where Bär couldn't make an excuse to avoid her.
In 3 cycles, such a moment arrived.
They had been placed on shift together to supervise maintenance work. Usually the ARARs could be trusted to work without supervision, but for some reason they had been fobbing off their shifts recently, and seemed more sluggish each cycle since her arrival.
"Oi! Get back to work!" Grunted Bär, shoving a slow, decrepit looking ARAR with her foot.
One of her comrades got to her feet, face blank but fists clenched. She breathed in deeply before gritting the words out.
"Leave off. We're getting to it. Floh's older so she'll take a little time. Have some patience. Please."
Bär sauntered up, sneer affixed firmly to her face as she got into the ARARs space.
"Then I don't see why we should keep her if she's too old to work properly."
The ARAR started as if she wanted to hit Bär but was halted gently by a hand at her wrist. Her companion squatting at her side just shook her head quietly, and the ARAR went to join her, shaking fingers back in their rightful place at the wiring.
Bär scoffed, turning back to Dachs.
"Damn bugs starting to get uppity now too? This place really is going to the pits..."
Dachs nodded along, then decided now was the time.
"Yeah...hey, so who was Dachs?" She asked with all the grace and subtlety of an elephant.
Bär froze mid-step, eyes wide, then corrected herself, walking smoothly to her side, though there was now a notable gap between them.
"A dead starling," she answered, not looking at her, "keep asking annoying questions and you'll follow her."
Dachs could feel the frustration curling up her fingers again.
"Oh come on! I need to know why y'all treat me like glassware now! Hyäne told me I should ask so here I am. Askin'. First cycle here you told me I had a big name. So, once again: what's the deal? Who was she?"
Bär was looking at her now, brow knitted together over angry eyes.
"Fucking Hyäne..." She muttered, crossing her arms and slouching against the wall.
She dragged a heavy hand through her hair, tussling up the straight curtain into a rough carpet as she spoke.
"Dachs...Dachs sucked, alright? I thought she didn't but she did. Looked up to her when she was livin'. Now I look down on her dead. So yeah...seein' you sucks and it ain't just 'cuz you're short 'n ugly."
Then she looked right at Dachs, and the starling wanted to recoil at the alien expression she saw there.
"Ain't right to put hate on you for somethin' you didn't choose. Reckon' most of us feel the same way. We pity you the name but it is what it is."
Pity?
All this time, and they were pitying her?
That coiling frustration became a striking rage.
"Fuck you," she spat out, hating the way Bär merely raised one eyebrow tiredly in response. She wanted fury. She wanted rage. "Hit me, berate me, whatever; I was expectin' it the moment I got here. Just don't fuckin' run from me like a damn coward over your dead ex or whatever!"
Finally, a break in the wall, as Bär's jaw tensed. The ARARs were all watching now, eyes flitting back and forth between them like glowworms in the night.
Screw 'em. They didn't matter where it counted.
Bär rose from her slouch, and the way she was posturing made her look far taller than those missing 7cm could account for.
Dachs was given no further warning before her world was inverted. Bär threw her to the ground, chest first, knocking the wind clean out of her, her armour cracking with the sheer, brute force.
She felt a knee on her back as she sputtered to regain breath.
"You want me to be mean? I can be mean," snarled Bär, her breath hot and sticky against the shell of the rookies ear.
Fingers like blunt knives dug into the soft flesh of her stomach and, for a moment, Dachs felt the ice cold spear of new fear lance her heart. She locked eyes with the old ARAR, who met her gaze with equal terror.
A shout from the other end of the corridor cut through the scuffle. Dachs had never heard Löwin's voice tremble before.
"Bär, that's enough! C'mon..."
Bär seemed to come to, that wild look in her eyes gone, replaced with an odd bashfulness ill-fitting her face. She relinquished Dachs quickly.
"Yeah. Yeah, alright," she muttered, her eyes unfocused as she let Löwin pull her away.
The eyes of the ARARs watched them as they left, the silent chorus of their unanimous gaze giving Dachs an unsettling feeling in her stomach, as she got to her feet, still mildly winded.
As she coughed, she kicked out at a toolbox in frustration, startling her unwitting audience. They scrabbled to put the tools back in place, eyeing her up nervously as their hands skittered over each other.
Dachs' fists curled at her side, staring at the place where Bär and Löwin had been. Humiliation ran hot through her lines at Löwin's timely rescue. She thought of redemption, of any way to claw back her dignity from the abyss. From the cold, dead hands of a starling she'd never met.
If the cadre wouldn't take her seriously, she'd just have to prove herself.
There was a certain rumour that floated around the halls of Borendt like a weighty wraith.
All knew of STCR-3500's volatile nature. That she had near-offlined a EULR during her first rotation. Though her rage seemed to have been mollified as she settled into her role, this was only due to her horrifying and morbid new hobby.
It was said that on the night of a foul moon rising (not that anyone could tell), the storch known as Gans would descend to the mortuary, where she would torture the ghosts of victims past to passify her violent urges. If one passed by on an unfortunate evening, you would hear the demented howls of the dead, writhing in agony from her vile manipulations.
"Oh that? Nah, she's just fuckin' that mortician," said Wölf cheerily as she flicked through an old AEON magazine on rifles and munitions, "the rumours are funnier to spread though. Just don't walk through B3 at night and you'll be alright."
From then on, Dachs started hanging around the station elevators in the evenings, hoping to catch the storch on the way to her grim descent.
On the 5th cycle, after most other staff had retired to their quarters and Dachs was nearly through her second cigarette, she considered calling it a night when she heard in the distance the telltale sound of metal on metal. There were only two storches at the facility, and Schwan didn't walk with the heavy, deliberate steps that now echoed down the corridor like an imminent threat.
Dachs cursed and put out the smouldering butt, stashing what was left before brushing off the ashes and straightening up.
She saw the shadow that preceeded the storch's arrival and braced herself, making sure to stand obtrusively in front of the elevator doors.
Soon enough, the sour face of STCR-3500 rounded the corner, barely hesitating in her stride until she was right upon the one-man blockade.
The storch scowled, a single command at her lips as she glared down at the starling, eyes narrowing.
"Move."
Dachs spoke through her teeth, making her stance as wide as possible and staring, unflinchingly, into the hellfire of her gaze.
"Make me."
For a moment it looked like the storch wanted to hit her, pure boiling rage plain on her face, but then she closed her eyes. Inhaled once, twice, before opening them again to stare dispassionately at her.
"I'm not playing with Hyäne's runt," she scowled, "fuck off."
She brushed past Dachs into the elevator, pushing her aside with ease, as if she were a gestalt child and not 213cm of the Nation's finest technology. Dachs felt the humiliation burning in her throat like an oiled flame. Allowed it to light her words as she spat.
"What's the matter, officer? Too busy paying your little hure a visit?"
She watched as Gans turned, the doors slinking shut on her swiftly darkening face, but she made no move to exit.
Dachs sighed, frustrated. Having failed to goad the storch, she decided to make her way back to the dorms before an ominous, metalic creaking shattered the silence.
She turned slowly to the source, a nervous trepidation roiling in her gut as she glimpsed black digits, jammed into the crack of the elevator doors like the legs of an angry spider. The agonised moan of straining gears reverberated around the corridor as those hands slowly pried open the metal curtains to reveal the looming shadow within.
And then, there it was; the piercing, irate gaze of STCR-3500, Butcher of Borendt.
Her voice was low and steady as she stepped out; a tiger's growl before the pounce.
"I changed my mind. It seems you need a lesson in
BASIC!"
She lunged suddenly, swinging.
"FUCKING!"
And again.
"DECORUM!"
Her fists were an abrupt punctuation to every word. Dachs' nervous system lit up like a signal flare as her motors whirled to life, hastily ducking to try and avoid the strikes. Though she avoided the fists, she didn't predict the vicious headbutt that came crashing down on her from above, sending her reeling.
Staggering, she narrowly avoided another jab, the storch recoiling as her knuckles hit the wall instead. Dachs took the opportunity to land a punch of her own into Gans' stomach, following through with an uppercut and feeling triumphant as fist connected with jaw, seeing a trickle of red from where her teeth cut into the synthetic flesh of her lip.
The victory was short-lived however, as she felt those long fingers grab her wrist and twist, threatening to break her arm with the strain. She used the momentum of her bodyweight to duck through the storch's legs and out of the grip, hoping to stick her combat knife in one of the thighs, but Gans was expecting it. She donkey kicked her chest with a force that would have broken her ribs if not for the armour, which now sported a fresh new crack up the side to join its brother.
"Little shits...always going for my legs..." Gans muttered, dragging the starling up by the scalp before smashing her face into the floor. Dachs felt her nose break, tasted oxident in her mouth before she twisted, managing to kick out of the hold.
Shaking her head to clear the disorientation, she spied a flash of silver at the storch's waist as she advanced with a snarl.
Was that...a fucking scalpel?!
Her surprise cost her dearly as, with little more than the glint of light, oxidant weeped from a new line across her navel. It wasn't a deep cut but it stung, and Dachs winced as she raised her arms to block a second slash aimed at her face. She felt the wet dripping down to her elbows as she lashed out desperately, barely glancing off the storch's abdomen.
Gans smashed her forehead into Dachs' face again, red-streaked spittle flecking onto the starling as she she struggled to remain standing. She tried, in vain, to reach her combat knife, but it was knocked out of her shaking hand with ease as the storch scoffed derisively, kicking her legs out from under her. Dachs' head collided with the floor as she fell, and she could feel her vision faltering as Gans stood over her.
"An idiot runt like you should know better than to spout your mouth off at your betters," she muttered, a broad tongue flicking out at the oxidant dripping from her own mouth. "Maybe I'll do Hyäne a favour and remove your filthy tongue."
A wild grin growing at the prospect, Gans knelt over Dachs' crumpled form. Her vision filled with the shadow of the storch and that silver blade gleaming in the low light.
As her visual feed descended into static, Dachs couldn't help but feel that maybe she'd miscalculated.
"That was extremely foolish."
Dachs blinked into consciousness, looking up into a face that mirrored her own.
She flinched reflexively as the overbright lights of medical came into view, but there was no escaping Hyäne's masked glare.
As her brain started to kick into gear, she quickly put her fingers in her mouth, cold dread at the ugly, severed stump she expected to find, but her tongue was still there. Still intact. She sighed in relief, until she noticed something (or rather, somethings) else missing.
"Consider yourself lucky she only took teeth," said the STAR leader, eyeing her missing canines, "Gans has been known to take more than her pound of flesh."
"She's crazy..." said Dachs, finger poking at the new gaps in her mouth. "At least I can get new ones...Should be an easy fix, right?"
Hyäne's eyes grow cold, her face impassive.
"No. I've informed the EULRs they're not to fix you."
Dachs blanched.
"You...you can't be serious! How am I gonna face the others like this?"
"I am. Consider it a punishment. I will not tolerate my officers harassing senior staff. You will have them back at my discretion. Is that clear?"
Dachs deflated. There was no arguing with Hyäne. Not unless she wanted to pull double shifts or do extra drills.
"Yes, ma'am..." She sighed, expecting Hyäne to leave her feeling sorry for herself.
Instead, the cadre leader seemed to be thinking on something. She removed her mask, placing it gently on the small tray beside the medbay bed.
Her naked face gazed down on Dachs with all the stoicism of a seasoned judge.
"If you seek self-destruction, I'm not going to stop you. Better dead than defective."
"No...it's not...I just...I wanted t-"
"The need to prove oneself is admirable, under the right circumstances. This was not one of them. I personally don't care about your 'shortcomings', as others may have put it, but if you're determined to fight, you should at least learn how."
"I know how to fight!" Bristled Dachs defensively.
Hyäne was unfazed by her outburst, her voice smooth and level as ever.
"You have the basic programming, yes. But you've yet to feel real combat. You know what you could do but not what you should. Your careless bought proves that."
"We run drills!"
"Against hypothetical, static targets. Hardly the same, but official hand-to-hand training between starlings has been restricted due to the lack of replacement parts. Unofficial brawls however...I like to think it keeps them sharp, so long as they don't overdo it."
Dachs folded her arms stubbornly, looking away.
"It's not my fault nothing interesting happens here..." She muttered.
Hyäne's eyes narrowed, one edge of her mouth tilting downward.
"Be careful what you wish for. 'Interesting' and 'fatal' are far too often bound by their wrists."
There was a pause as an uncomfortable silence fell over them.
"What should I do?" Asked Dachs, feeling utterly lost.
The response was immediate, Hyäne's words an inevitability.
"Firing range. 21:00. I'll make a fighter of you yet."
Dorm inspections were a regular occurrence at Borendt.
They were expected to check the gestalt dorms twice a week, making sure to confiscate any items on the verbotene materialien list. All the usual suspects; seditious literature, blades, alcohol, as well as...
"Watches?" Dachs quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah. A gestalt used the batteries of one to start a small fire once," Eber grunted as she flipped another matress, patting down the underside. "Didn't cause any serious damage but he managed to self-immolate briefly. Couldn't finish the job; all he had was documents he had stuck to himself...still, the corridor smelt like burnt hair for a whole rotation afterwards...it was gross."
Dachs grimaced. The smell of her own burning plastic had been bad enough. She patted down the last of the pillows with a bored huff, tossing it back on the bunk without a care.
"I'm done here."
Eber didn't look up from her task, prodding a lump in the matress with suspicion.
"Don't gotta be so eager about it, toothless. Go help Bär out with the bathrooms."
Dachs just glared at her back, now hideously aware of the gaps in her mouth as her treacherous tongue explored instinctively. As she made her way to the bathrooms, she stretched, feeling a pleasant burn in her arms and back.
Hyäne's extra drills had been brutal. Always it would end with her sparring against the cadre leader. Always she would fail, coming away with a new lesson and a burning fire in her gut. Always, she thought she felt the ghost of a smile in that masked face, the righteous feeling of a firm hand on her shoulder that made each bruise worth it. When Hyäne made her evening dedications to the Great Revolutionary, Dachs started to join her.
She learned then that the Nation had made her for a reason.
She was jolted out of her memory by a sudden stinging sensation. She yelped, whirling around to see Bär cackling, having coiled a towel into a perfect rat tail to whip her with.
"Eyes open, Dud!"
"Dachs. Where's Löwin? Hiding around the corner?" She asked, arms up to brace for another towling.
"I dunno. Probably off shaggin' some EULR. I'm not her keeper." Bär replied, oddly stilted.
They were saved any further conversation by a triumphant yell.
Wölfin had found something. A dull bottle, stashed behind a crooked wall tile by one of the bunks. It contained a mostly colourless liquid, though shaking it kicked up some sediment that clouded it into an ill tan.
"Oh shit! Is that shiner?" Asked Bär, making to snatch the bottle, growling when Wölfin playfully whisked it away.
"Shiner?" Asked Dachs.
Bär grinned.
"Yeah. One sip and you'll either be picking fights or hittin' your head on something. Either way you'll get a black eye. Fucking...give it over, Wölf!"
But Wölfin tutted, annoying grin firmly in place as she wagged a finger at her.
"We both know you'll down half the bottle, B. Gotta share this treasure!"
It turned out that 'shiner' was some form of alcohol made from fermented leftovers. It was technically forbidden to possess.
It was also truly disgusting, as Dachs soon found out when they returned the dorms. There was a crack and a hiss, before the grimy bottle was pressed into her hands.
"Go on! Get your gears wet, newbie!"
Unwilling to turn down a challenge, she took two big chugs and immediately felt like vomiting as the acrid mixture burned its way down her pipes. She was fairly sure alcohol wasn't supposed to have lumps...
As she tried not to gag, cheers erupted from the group.
"That's the spirit!" Praised Bär, clapping Dachs on the back a little too hard, making the burn on her shoulderblade ache.
The entire cadre seemed in good spirits from their find, fingers brushing gently as the bottle passed from hand to hand.
Even Hyäne had acquiesced, lounging on her bunk with a pleasant buzz about her, mask off as she revolved the bottlecap between her fingers.
Wölfin caught notice of her looking over at their leader and grinned, a jagged white stripe against her rose-tinged face.
"I hear Hyäne's been running you ragged on those extra drills, newbie. I wanna see it. You should fight someone."
"A fight? Who's she fightin'?" Asked Löwin, perking up from her drunken slump at the table. A few playing cards had stuck to her flushed face.
"Yeah, go on, shorty!" Bär hollered, laughing as she quickly peeled an Ace off Löwin's face to make her yelp, "Pick your beating."
"Haaaa...short..." slurred Eber helpfully, so off her face she was was slumped on the floor against her bunk, clasping one of her blankets like a raft against the tide of her inebriation.
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the sidelong glance from Hyäne's bunk. Or maybe, just maybe, she was finally ready to shed her downy fluff altogether, liquid ambition roaring through her lines like a dragon unleashed.
She stood, and the others watched her firm proclamation.
"I choose Bär."
Silence. An exchange of glances.
"Don't be an idiot, Dachs," said Löwin quietly, nursing her cards, "she'll crack your skull right open."
"Nnoo...wait...I wanna see this," said Eber, trying without success to drag herself up off the floor.
Wölfin just raised her eyebrows amusedly at Bär, who's face had scrunched up in confusion for a moment.
Then 4 sets of eyes turned, their questioning gaze fixed on a singular, icy pair.
Hyäne flicked the bottle cap between her fingers. Once. Twice. Then she sat up, looking straight at Dachs, a smirk on her bared face.
"Well. Go on then."
Immediately Bär got to her feet as if she were stone sober, chair falling away as she stood. She kicked it to the side, striding up to face Dachs, sneering as she rolled her shoulders.
"So. The toothless shortstack is gonna square up? This'll be fun."
But Dachs was ready, strutting out the words like she was born to say them.
"The only way I was gonna get your yellow ass to finally fight me was to start it myself. What's the matter, Bär? Too old? Too scared?"
That wiped the cocky grin from Bär's face. There was an "oooooooo" from Wölfin as she took a big swig, Eber cackling as she made grabby hands at the bottle, making useless swings at her comrade's leg as she was denied ("c'mon man...you're sunk enough...don't make me get your girl...").
To her credit, Bär recovered, smirking as she cracked out her neck.
"Please. Even drunk I could paint the walls with you, Dud."
"It's Dachs," she replied cooly. Then, bounds expanded by illicit liquor, she addressed the cadre.
"I know y'alls memory is conveniently fickle round that name but I full intend on makin' you remember it."
There were a lot of quiet looks exchanged then. Annoyed, or perhaps guilty? Löwin's eyes flitted between the two challengers, her face stony. Even Eber seemed to sober up a little, though her grip on the blanket tightened further still. Wölfin patted her hair in a manner that was almost affectionate.
Dachs found she no longer cared. She was here for one thing.
"So. How we gonna do this?"
"No knives," said Bär, unlatching hers and tossing it on her bunk, "just whatever our Great Nation gave us. Deal?"
"Deal," replied Dachs immediately, theatrically removing her holster and placing it deliberately at the table. She saw from the corner of her eye one of Hyäne's eyebrows raise in interest. She could almost hear that chiding tone in her head.
"Foolish. Very foolish."
Hand-to-hand without a knife was certainly playing to Bär's advantage, but she didn't care. She needed to win in Bär's territory. In front of the cadre. She knew deep in her guts it was the only way it would count.
"Whenever you're ready, runt," sniped Bär, moving into position.
Dachs felt the phantom prickle of a scalpel, shook it from her mind as she called forth her lessons.
"...She's slow, but she's not stupid. She'll rarely take the offensive, so you'll have to goad her into it..."
Sure enough, Bär was waiting, feet shifting into a wide stance and arms braced to defend.
Dachs surged forward, testing her guard with a few potshots, watching how her opponent reacted. Bär moved to block the fists aimed at her face, not bothering to cover most of the body shots, which she just tanked outright without flinching.
Still, she wasn't reacting. Hadn't thrown a single punch to Dachs' barrage. If she didn't think of something quick she'd just tire herself out, leaving her vulnerable.
"C'mon! Hit me!" Bär bellowed, thumping her chest.
Time for plan B. While at the table Dachs had swiped Bär's cards.
"Alright, take your damn hand then!" She snarled, flicking the cards into the starling's face.
Bär shielded her face in alarm, and Dachs used the confusion to sock her in the stomach, almost winding her. She tried to follow up with a 1-2 to the face, landing the jab into the meat of her cheek, but Bär's arm came up to block the cross.
As Dachs backstepped to get some distance, she could finally see it; the spark of anger in her opponents eyes.
Bär finally lashed out, lunging with a vicious swing but she overcompensated, the momentum carrying her forward as Dachs danced out of the way.
Finally, an opening!
"...The back of the legs are a weak spot in many protektor units. It's why they're considered a cheap target, but corpses can't complain of fairness..."
She kicked out at the back of her knees, hoping to get her to fall, but it wasn't quite enough force to sent the heavy starling over. As Bär stumbled she made a swipe for Dachs' legs, missing and denting the table with an unpleasant crunching sound. Löwin eyed the mark inches away from her and decided, wisely, to watch from her bunk instead.
As Bär got back to her feet, growling in frustration, Dachs couldn't help but laugh, finding joy in The Game for the first time.
All she had to do was not get hit and she could win this.
"Kinda...kinda reminds me of..." Eber murmured listlessly. Wölfin shushed her with a frown, eyes on the fight.
Bär snarled, fists clenched and ready to go again.
"You cheap piece of shareware! I though we were clear on items!"
"Yeah well the Nation gave me fingers, asshole! So I'm usin' 'em!" Dachs yelled back, flipping her off.
Bär charged forward, on the offensive now. Dachs tried not to get cornered as she dodged out of the way of swing after swing. Hyäne was right; Bär was slow but, more importantly, the momentum of her swings also slowed down her recovery.
Dachs knew blocking would be no good here; she'd just end up breaking her arms. So she just kept ducking and weaving, biding the time for just the right moment. It was no good though; every shot she managed to get in barely glanced off the side of the starling's head, and she was getting tired. She needed to get her straight in the face, and get it done before she gassed out.
What could she do? The gap between Bär's fist and Dachs' face seemed to narrow with every punch.
She looked around the dorm, trying to think of anything that would help.
"...A good starling will do anything to protect the interests of the Nation. There is no such thing as fighting dirty. Not in Her name..."
There! A glint of glass just inches away. Now she just needed one more opening.
Bär seemed to mistake her whirling gaze for one of panic, as that smug grin was now retuning.
"You're running out of time, Dud. Any last words before I make you swallow my fist?"
Dachs locked eyes with her, sidestepping ever closer to where she'd seen glass.
"Nah...just that Löwin told me about Dachs last night."
Bär halted, her face stunned.
"Wait, she di-"
Dachs grabbed the near-empty bottle out of Wölfin's hand and smashed it full force over Bär's head, filing the room with a sharp smell. As Bär reeled, oxidant dripping from the shards lodged in her scalp, Dachs finally landed a decent hook, getting Bär right in the eye with as much force as she could muster.
The starling lurched over with a groan, barely holding herself hunched over her knees.
Dachs leaned over, clasping the broken bottle in a hand shaking with adrenaline.
Did I do it? Holy shit I've do-
And then Bär's fist collided with her cheek.
Dachs opened her eyes, looking up into a face that mirrored her own.
Several faces, in fact.
When they saw she was awake, the faces burst into excited cheering.
Dachs had a hard time making out who was who with the dizziness in her head. She blinked confusedly in the commotion.
"I don't get it...I lost," she mumbled, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth.
"Yeah but you have you seen Bär?" Said the face with the lopsided grin.
A darker, thick-set head streaked with red nodded.
"Hah. You got hands, Dachs. I'll give you that. Been a while since I been bruised like that!"
Sure enough, those dark patches marked the bruises that were starting to bloom across the starling's jawline, and her left eye was swollen and purpling.
"Was...fuckin' great fight," slurred another face before disappearing out of view. There was a noticeable heaving sound.
"Not on my bunk, dipshit!" Yelled the last face, turning to the source of the foul noise.
Then, several hands were helping Dachs to sit up as her vision started to clear, though a dull throbbing pain reverberated around her skull as she moved.
The dorm was a tip. Playing cards scattered everywhere, chair flung into one of the bunks and table dented and crooked.
And in the chaos, Hyäne. Sitting upright at her pristine bunk, mask back in place. Looking at her thoughtfully.
She got up gracefully and walked over, pressing something to Dachs' lips. At first, she was worried it was more shiner but as the liquid hit her tongue she realised it was just water. She took the cup in grateful fingers, downing it like mana from above.
"You should head to the medbay, Dachs," Hyäne said, taking her empty cup. Dachs couldn't help but feel her heart lurch at the brush of fingers against her own.
"I'm fine, just a bit bruised," she lied. She definitely had a concussion. And maybe also a crack in her skull?
"Don't be foolish," said her leader, eyes flicking down to Dachs' mouth pointedly. "Tell them I sent you."
She looked to the others.
"The rest of you clean up. You've had your fun. Time for work."
Then she was walking away, the doors swishing closed behind her as an audible groan rippled through the cadre.
As the others started to clear up the mess, Löwin helped Dachs to her feet.
"They're right, Dachs. It was a good fight," she said, looping Dachs arm over her shoulder, "kinda reminded me of when me 'n Bär first got here. Good times. Now let's get you to medbay. No one takes a punch from Bär without some serious head wounds."
"We'll leave the best bits for you, Dachs!" Winked Wölfin, stepping over Eber's now unconscious body to sweep up some cards.
"Like hell you will!" Yelled Löwin over her free shoulder.
Bär clapped them on the shoulders as they left, and Dachs could swear she felt that burning sensation again.
Far from the prickle of embarrassment or anger, it felt like a song.
Like victory in her heart.