Sisterhood of the Iron Mind

While I was happy to get out from behind my desk and into the pilot's seat of my jumpship, a sortie to download some files from a probably-abandoned research station was not the action-packed mission I'd been hoping for. As the blue glow on the viewscreen faded to streaks of stars, I placed my hands on the yoke, holding onto the thread of hope I'd have the opportunity to take the controls and augment my construct's piloting if we got into a dogfight. My shoulders sagged when the stars in the black of space were still and we didn't immediately take evasive action. My construct addressed me.

[Exit successful. Scans have identified the target and detect no other abnormalities in the system. It appears to be abandoned, as expected. I am not detecting any activity from its construct. Estimated time of arrival is seven minutes, plus one minute for docking. I can execute another jump to bring us closer if you would prefer, which would cut the ETA down to three minutes.]

"That won't be necessary, Aegis." I released the yoke with a sigh. While my jump drive was perfectly capable of handling multiple jumps in succession--I'd even used that maneuver in combat--there was no reason to put it through its paces for something that should be routine. If there wasn't even a construct guarding the station, this mission would be a cakewalk. Get in, grab the evidence, and get out.

This station had apparently been conducting anti-psionics research in defiance of the Ironbound Treaty, and investigating that was vital in preserving the Sisterhood's hegemony. As I reflected on the assurances I'd given my staff just to secure myself this mundanity, I couldn't help but long for my early days in the Steel Sorority, executing Liquidation Decrees fresh out of training.

[Paladin Kirsten, a jumpship just exited near the station. IFF identifies it as the MCI Mindhunter. According to my database, the owner is Wren Asher. He is hailing you.]

"The psion-hunter?" I asked, squinting against the speckled night to see if I could spot the pinpoint of light that was his ship. I'd thought the tip we'd received was a bit dubious given that it was anonymous (we offered rewards and clemency for whistleblowers). But if this Corporate Authority had paid through the nose for Wren Asher, they were definitely hiding something. "Accept the hail."

A gruff voice came on the link. "This is Wren Asher. What is your business in this system?" His tone was direct and matter-of-fact, like he had every reason to be asking that and I was obligated to answer.

I decided to play along. He could undoubtedly guess who I was and why I was here; a corporation wouldn't hire the galaxy's most infamous psion-hunter to deter looters, after all. But there was no reason to confirm it. I gave him my rehearsed cover story: "I heard there was some salvage in this system. Didn't think there'd be anyone else out here, since it's abandoned."

"It's not abandoned," Wren replied, blunt. "I'm the representative of its owners. I would advise you to leave the system and return where you came from. There is nothing for you to salvage here."

I laughed, making sure I was loud enough to carry over the link. "You can't claim ownership of a station in Extra-Corporate space." I muted the link, saying to Aegis, "If he activates his weapons systems, take evasive action immediately and prepare a surprise attack." My ship was registered as a personal transport (with his IFF flagging it as such), but it had some surprises hidden for anyone who dared to attack me. Not that I was eager to try out my tricks against his no-doubt superior firepower.

Luckily, it seemed he wasn't eager to try me either. He cut the link after an ominous "You've been warned". Then he sped towards the station.

Despite myself, I was smirking as I instructed Aegis to cut the distance with a jump, getting us as close to the station as possible. I'd heard the tales, of course. According to legend, he'd even collected a bounty on a Level 5. But since he only went after psions who violated corporate law and needed to be brought to justice, he'd never gone up against the Steel Sorority. That would change today.

[Initiating intra-system jump. Remain in your assigned seat.]

The stars began to streak across the viewscreen. The tell-tale blue glow returned, and I returned my hands to the controls in case Wren decided to ambush me on exit. But after about a minute, the streaking stars faded into view and slowed once more without incident.

[Jump complete. The Mindhunter is beginning its docking sequence. Would you like me to deposit you in the materials receiving bay to avoid giving his ship an opening while we are docked? I will remain in comms range afterward and provide remote support.]

"Good thinking," I replied. I removed my harness and dashed through the ship to the cargo bay while Aegis pulled in. I didn't have any gear to grab; I was outfitted in a tight gray long-sleeved shirt, loose navy cargo pants, and black combat boots. Everything I was wearing except my boots and socks was psionically translucent, allowing my powers to pass through when normal materials would block them.

I arrived as the door opened, the ship hovering about twenty feet off the floor of the bay. I leapt down, bending my knees and using psionics to strengthen myself to absorb the impact. I ran to the exit, calling into my wristpad, "Engage digital warfare protocols. Show this amateur how the Steel Sorority rolls."

Aegis responded affirmatively. The exit to the bay opened, a massive door made to accommodate haulers. I ended up in an odd corridor, wider than the door with a transparent wall on either side. One looked out into the starry blackness, the other a smaller corridor. There was another door at the far end, this one open, but I was more interested in the man emerging into the other corridor.

He'd entered from the dock for personnel, its connecting corridor doubling as a place to safely monitor the heavy machinery hauling cargo from the bay Aegis had dropped me off at. As for the man himself, his gravelly voice belied an almost boyish appearance. His face was unlined and cleanly shaven. His clear skin and glossy golden hair were a stark contrast to the battered and scorched power armor, its plates barely recognizable as matte white, covering everything below his neck. A number of dark green belts and holsters laden with all manner of equipment were strung across him. I wondered if the lack of a helmet was a show of confidence or a misdirection.

He surveyed me in turn, his eyes narrowing as they roamed up and down my form. I was used to my appearance disarming opponents. I was best described as "cute" from the neck up with a button nose, a smattering of freckles framing my round green eyes, and wavy red hair. But men tended to find the rest of me distracting. Any eyes on my arms and shoulders, sculpted from a decade of training, inexorably gravitated to my oversized breasts. And with my baggy pants concealing the tone of my glutes and thighs, only the curvy outlines of my wide hips and prominent rear were visible.

I didn't mind the edge my looks gave me in a fight, but I'd have preferred not being patronized and objectified. With my blood and sweat at the squat rack so often reduced to a "fat ass" by catcalling, I'd gotten plenty of practice controlling the strength of my slaps. The man appraising me was safely behind blastproof glass, but I'd doubtless have the opportunity to smack him around later if he insisted on getting in my way.

He gave a nod once he'd gotten his fill of me. But his eyes settled on mine, a sharpness to him as he spoke. An intercom transmitted his voice between the divide. "The physique indicates an Enhancer, though the lack of a psysuit somewhat gives that away." He took a glance down at my breasts before leveling his gaze back to mine and asking with deadly seriousness, "Level 4?"

I blushed a bit at the last comment, resisting the urge to wrap my arms over my traitorous chest. I'd heard no end of lewd remarks about it, but having this psion hunter accurately guess my Level just by looking at my tits made me feel more exposed than any harassment I'd ever received. Still, despite his apparent experience and vigilance, he hadn't realized I was a multi. It was one of the reasons I didn't go around in the standard-issue psysuits; wearing one made it immediately obvious that I was more than just an Enhancer. The other reason was that the suits were skintight.

When I didn't reply, he continued with a severe expression, "I'm not sure if you've heard of me, but regardless, I'm not going to back down just because you're a psion. If you really are here for salvage, now would be a very good time for you to leave."

My lips pursed in a tight smile at his self-aggrandizement. "Judging by how you estimated my output based on my cup size, you must be..." I gave a dramatic pause, as if I was going to stroke his ego by confirming that his reputation did indeed precede him and that I knew he was the Wren Asher. Instead I finished with, "A pervert."

He laughed at that, his stern visage cracking into an amused smile as he nodded. "Alright, so that's how we're doing it? Sure." He stepped up to the glass, making the difference in our heights more apparent (he had a few inches on me). "You're not the first Level 4 Enhancer I've gone up against, so if you're unlucky enough to catch up to me, I'll be happy to ransom you back to the Sisterhood."

I responded with a lightning-fast jab right at his face, my hand impacting the glass with a resounding thud. A spiderweb of cracks spread from the point of impact. But he didn't even flinch--and I didn't come close to breaking through.

"You might have better luck with the door," he smirked. Just as he finished speaking, the door at the end of my corridor slammed shut. "That's my cue," he shouted over his shoulder as he jogged towards his exit.

I did a double-take between him and the door as he ran off. "Aegis, what the fuck?" I yelled into my wristpad, sprinting for my closed exit. It was solid metal, but not exactly fortified. The hinges made obvious weak points. I noted with a flash of irritation that Wren was probably right about it being easier to get through than the blast-proof glass.

[His construct is much more advanced than I anticipated. Working to get the door open now.]

"Don't bother; focus on tracking his movements and keeping his construct from pulling any other stunts," I replied. I took in a deep breath and strengthened my legs and back before delivering a vicious kick to the bottom hinge. A sharp creak resounded up the corridor, the metal giving a promising bend. As I broke them one at a time, I wryly shook my head, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips. He had no idea what he was up against.

It took me about a minute to persuade the door to open. I glanced down at my wristpad, where Aegis had helpfully pushed a map. The station's records and logs would be deeper in, in the personnel wing. Wren already had a lead over me, since he'd arrived in that wing. But I would make quick time to the main artery cutting through the station. I'd be teaching him a lesson he wouldn't forget soon after.

I dashed through the large room the corridor opened to, running down a wide channel between metal appendages and conveyers which would have sorted everything that arrived and sent it where it needed to go. At least one of them would lead to the server room, but I had a feeling I shouldn't risk traversing a system a construct could assume complete control over. Perhaps Aegis had simply underestimated its opponent, but a precedent had been set.

As if in response to my thoughts, the appendages began to stir as I passed through the middle of the room. They had a variety of different heads and attachments, but were uniformly sectioned metal lengths almost like snakes. They rose into the air around me, rearing back to strike.

I'd been sprinting on pure physical capability, but I immediately began a full-body enhancement. Strength to muscles to increase force, strength to tendons to keep my muscles from ripping themselves off my bones, and strength to bones to keep them from getting broken by the strain. My senses were heightened as well, my reaction time dramatically increasing and my hearing and eyesight sharpening to pick out the motion of the wave of attackers.

Then they struck. There were dozens of them, and thanks to being controlled by a construct, they attacked as a single unit. I ducked and weaved, maneuvering through them like I was running a living obstacle course. But the lateral and vertical movements I was making to dodge were necessarily slowing down my pace across the room. It wasn't long before some were wrapping around my legs, stopping me in my tracks. My arms soon followed. They didn't use their heads and attachments to grab me, instead coiling around me to hold me with as much force as they could muster. In moments, each of my limbs was hidden in a mass of silvery segments.

My stomach lurched as they lifted me off the ground, maneuvering me to the center of the room to maximize the number of appendages they could get around me. I knew there wasn't anything in the immediate I could do to stop it, so I tested the waters by flexing everything, trying to find a weak point in the hold. But of course, the construct could calculate the optimal pattern of restraint in the time it took me to blink. As hard as I was flexing, I couldn't feel any give anywhere.

Then Wren's voice crackled over the intercom, dripping with smugness. "Tripped at the second hurdle? I've already got a headstart, but I know you Enhancers can be deceptively fast. When I saw you using your powers there, I thought you might actually slip through my grasp."

At his mention of seeing me, I took a better look at the state I was in. The construct held me upside down, my hair cascading towards the floor below me. My chest had only shifted slightly toward my neck thanks to my heavy-duty sports bra, but I could see the effect the restraint was having on my thighs. The wrappings stopped about halfway up my knee, the flesh past the metal bulging against the compression and bunching the fabric of my pants, making them look even bigger than normal. And I could only imagine how much it was emphasizing my ass.

But he made no mention of any of that as he continued, "But as I said, I am not one to underestimate Enhancers." At this, my eyes widened at the pull I felt on my shoulders and hips. The appendages were trying to rip me apart. As I hastily upped the strength of those joints, he finished, "Let's see if you've got the output to pull yourself free without getting quartered first."

It was a frustratingly excellent tactic. I only had so much output to spread around, so forcing me to concentrate it in my shoulders and hips would sap strength from my back and glutes, which were the main muscles I'd be using to overpower the appendages. But after my appreciation faded, the part of me that did information control for the Sisterhood grew concerned. His understanding of Enhancement went that deep? He'd already been able to approximate my Level just by looking at my breasts, contained by a sports bra as they were. I wondered just how much he knew about psions.

He'd done well to slow me down, but it would take more than this to hold me. I went to maximum output and pulled against my restraints. My shoulders and hips began to throb uncomfortably, but I took in a deep breath before grunting in exertion. Some of the appendages began to groan, not designed to stand up to this kind of pressure. I took in one final breath, letting it out in an explosive shout of effort as I bent and twisted the mass of metal.

The construct already had me in the best grip to keep me under control, but nevertheless, it tried to adapt to my escape attempt. Its grasp on my legs loosened as it struggled to keep a hold on my baggy pants, so it began winding the appendages through my belt loops, even sending a few under my waistband and up the ankles to get a direct hold on my legs. I shivered at the cold metal, but I kept pushing, knowing it would surrender before my warm flesh.

Then I heard a gut-wrenching rip. It coincided with a sudden lessening of the pressure on my legs. I didn't hesitate, folding myself in half to bring them down to my arms. I viciously kicked at the appendages holding me, wincing as I noticed the dangling scraps of fabric.

The construct tried to regain control of the situation, but its misuse had already strained the appendages. I made quick work of the rest of the ones restraining me, dropping into a backflip and landing on my feet. It didn't take long to fight through the construct's final effort to reestablish its grip on me, and then I was out of its reach.

After making sure the danger had passed, I assessed the damage. Both pant legs were split at the inseam, my belt the only thing keeping them on me. I let out a deep sigh. Theoretically the Sisterhood paid for my equipment, but since I was the Prioress of my chapter of Paladins, any replacements for my extremely expensive pants made of exotic materials would ultimately come out of my budget. As I removed my belt and pulled the remains of the pants off of me, I resolved to come back and retrieve them later, to see if they could be salvaged by redoing the stitching.

This left my lower body covered only in my boots and my high-leg black thong. I wore the design both to minimize the use of costly psionically-translucent material and to provide more freedom of movement. But although the definition of my thighs and ass was now apparent, I was not pleased with being put on display like this. I braced myself for some kind of ribald remark.

"Well, that certainly didn't hold you for as long as I'd hoped," came Wren's voice over the intercom. "But worry not, Enhancer. I've always got a backup plan. You can look forward to it." He went silent with a click.

I continued my trek through the station feeling... mostly annoyed about the pants. It seemed his interest in my body was purely for the sake of assessing my abilities. I paid no mind to how he might be watching me through the security cameras I passed, the striking showcase of my lower body fading into the background of my thoughts as I ran through the station.

My trek led me through processing facilities, storage rooms, and industrial hallways. But soon I'd reached the main artery. It was a straight shot to a massive blast door, about seventy meters from me. And with my enhanced eyesight, I could clearly see Wren standing on the other side. And the door beginning to close. I increased my output again, breaking into a sprint.

He shouted encouragement at me. "Go, go, go! You can make it!" His eyes were fixed on mine, no doubt gauging my reaction to his mocking. But true to his words, I was on pace. The door was massive and heavy metal, slow to close even with the hydraulics powering the movement. Though he showed no signs of concern. As I reached the halfway point, he casually reached into a holster and drew a laser pistol.

The snap of the pistol split the corridor, accompanied by the ozone smell and the hiss of the pistol's cooling system. He focused his fire on my legs to trip me. I gauged the vector of the muzzle, side-stepping each time I saw his grip tensing to pull the trigger.

Each burst flew down the corridor past me, but despite my avoidance, he achieved the desired effect. I was hurtling towards the door, but it had already closed too much for me to fit through. I wouldn't make it, and worse, if I kept going the way I was going, I would wedge myself inside. His construct could have easily bypassed the safety, and I wasn't about to play chicken with it.