Human Agri-world Tuathanas

Val stared up in awe at the ship entering the atmosphere above her. The glowing plasma wreathing the ship from its insertion into the atmosphere cleared revealing iridescent hull plates that were individually larger than any ship she had served on. From stem to stern it had to be at least two kilometers long and more than one across with vinelike hull attachments along its hull that had to be cannons that dwarfed even the massive ones she remembered in the Earth Defense Fleet.

They sent THAT to take a farm planet?!? Val tried to remember if she had ever seen a ship that big, but was drawing a blank. Not even during fleet week above Mars had she seen something so massive. If the Affini could afford to send a ship like that here… Her hands started to quiver, as memories came unbidden to her mind, of what a ship keeping station above a noncompliant colony could do with those kinds of cannons and what being in the first city for it to settle over meant. 

It would be over pretty quickly, Val concluded. The first city, nice and merciful, so the rest of the planet knew to surrender, just like the Accord did to Corvus Beta, the memory sent a shudder running down her spine. An idea struck her, an absurd idea that brought a crazed kind of laughter to her lips. Val’s frame was shaking, her body barely containing the tremors rattling through her limbs. A laugh ripped from her throat, a gasping cackle that nearly put her on her knees. Bent double, with tears forming in her eyes, the manic thought spun in her head till it became a fully-fledged idea.

“Hey, Lyra! You up for a little bit of cosplay?” she called into the front of the shop, her voice wheezing around laughter.

Lyra poked her head around the door frame, an incredulous look crossing her eyebrows. “Val, are you okay? Did you hit your head with a hammer again? In case you haven’t noticed we are being invaded and you want to cosplay?” 

“I know! It’s the end of the world! It’s Ragnarok!” Val cheered, throwing her arms up out, her voice tinted with a manic edge as she straightened up. “So let's get pretty, get pretty drunk, and go out on our terms!” 

Lyra shook her head smiling, a giggling laugh escaping her lips. She knew this had to do with the ship looming overhead like a malignant tumor in the sky. She herself had been staring at it with much trepidation as it took up station above their hometown. Maybe a distraction is what we really need, just have to keep Val from getting too much into her own head she thought to herself.  “Not a bad idea Val, fine let's do this!” 

“Hel yeah!” Val cheered with a fist pump. She pause a moment, worrying her lip, an internal debate painted on her face. Last chance to dress up might as well go all out, Val mused. “Um, Lyra?” she called, her voice a great deal more uncertain.

Lyra tilted her, an eyebrow raised. “Yes?” a curious, expectant lilt to her voice. From the way, Val’s shoulders were tensed and how she kept flexing her hands Lyra could tell she was steeling herself for something big.

Val took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Iwaswonderingifyoucouldbraidmyhaironcewegetdressedplease?” Val blurted out.

An impish smile started to creep onto Lyra’s face. No, Bad Lyra! This is serious! Lyra admonished herself, Time to be the supportive one for once! “Sure thing!” Lyra responded, rubbing her hands together as her eyes shined with joy. “You know I love braiding your hair!” With narrowed eyes, she pouts at her sister “but I thought you just tolerated it!” 

Val bit her lips together, a blush heating her face as she turned her eyes to the floor and shuffled her feet. “Look I- ugh, okay, I can’t braid my own damn hair, I always mess it up” she mutters through clenched teeth, refusing to make eye contact. 

Lyra tilted her head, her eyebrows raised in amusement, as the smile crept onto her face. “I got you fam! We could do something I saw online or- oh! Do you want an undercut braid like in that poster you keep? You know, the one at the back of your closet~?”    

Her stoic sister's eye twitches even as her cheeks pink. “Lyra! The fuck! Why were you even in my closet! It's mine for a reason!” Val snaps back grumbling out of embarrassment. “I don’t go through your closet!”

Lyra rolls her eyes. “Oh, relax. Your ‘secret’ yearning for girls and guys with swords and braids is safe with me.” She snarks back with a smirk... 

“Keep it up Lyra… I know where you keep your ‘book collection’ and the overnet access is in my name so I can see the history” retorted Val with playful seriousness. 

From the glare and puffed-out cheeks on her face, Val could tell that Lyra was biting down a comeback just in case. With a huff, Lyra turned on her heels and flounced out with a raised middle finger. Val took the opportunity to retreat back into the machine shop to where she had her favorite dress-up outfits stashed before she was subjected to the inevitable escalation. 

Lyra watched her sister leave before heading upstairs, her petulant mood carrying her to the stereo. Her tastes clashed hard with her sister’s and as far as petty vengeance went third-wave disco candy pop revival would low key drive Val insane. Smiling to herself as the high energy beats filled the air, she made her way to her closet and started to pursue what few clothes she had. She skipped over her plain and simple work clothes, suppressed a shudder at her boymode clothes, and landed on her few and precious dresses. Her favorite skater dress that she had made herself, the cute punk plaid dress she had bought with her first bit of wages working here, and lastly the dress Val had gotten her when she first moved in. It was styled like a medieval noble’s dress in cream with green and gold trim, to Lyra it was tacky, dorky, completely without style, and one of the most precious things she owned. Because while Val might not have an ounce of style or femininity that wasn’t two thousand years out of date, she had given her this dress with the promise to make sure she would always make sure Lyra could be her true princess self. With a smile, Lyra took the dress off its hanger and started to get ready.

Meanwhile, Val was bebopping along to the tunes emanating from upstairs. She would never admit to liking such bubbly music but it was fun to wiggle to the beat. She had spent months working on this outfit, from researching as best she could through the fragments of digital encyclopedias, to forging and shaping the individual parts, and finally stitching it all together. This might be her only chance to wear it all she thought to herself, as she pulled the linen undershirt over her padded chest and began to wrap the cloth and leather of her boots up her legs. It got tricky making sure she didn’t compress the socket of her leg while getting the lacing the way she wanted it. It took almost half an hour to get the chainmail and laminar all in place and looking good. One way or another this was the end of her quiet days here with her adoptive sister and by Hel, she was going to meet it in style. 

Lyra came downstairs to see Val sitting at the front desk using a makeshift vanity mirror to put the finishing touches on her makeup, a dark band of smokey black across her eyes and blue runes in eyeliner pencil down her cheeks. Shaking her head Lyra ran her fingers through Val’s hair and started to brush out and weave the hair into a complex braid. The little yip of surprise and enjoyment was all the encouragement she needed.  

“I can not believe your idea of ‘get pretty’ involves armor, you are the worst,” said Lyra, yanking a braid for emphasis.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t pull my hair like that Lyra!”

“Ohh the big bad Viking doesn’t like her hair pulled”

Val snorted, suppressing her laugh. “Quite the opposite, so it's really weird when you do it, Sis.”

“Gross, I do not need to know about your kinks.”

“You started it, along with thinking about me as a sister Lyra. You only have yourself to blame.”  

“Urrrhhggg you are the worst Val, I hope you rust with all that armor on. Go, you are done, I am finished with this mess you call hair.” Lyra said pushing Val away from her and claiming her spot at the front desk.

Val took a moment to appreciate her sister’s outfit. The long cream gown with a knotted belt lent Lyra a regal air to mirror her own martial look, and it warmed her to the bone to see her wearing it. “You know Princess, I have something that will complete that outfit perfectly that I have been working on. Chill for a bit, I’ll get it from the back”

While Val was off rummaging around for stars knows what, Lyra took a moment to reflect. Val was really worried, and she was trying not to show it. She is always like this, Lyra thought. Protect, provide, pretend to be all right The Val motto! Lyra was frustrated, Val’s habit of trying to distract her from bad things going on was getting old quick. 

The bell above the shop door tinkled. 

Lyra spun in her chair to the door, “Hey sorry but we closed for the” her voice trailed off as she saw the man in the doorway.

“David” 

“That is not my name” Lyra stammered, fear creeping around the edges of her voice, her fingers gripping the desk with white-knuckle intensity. “What do you want Mark?”

“I don’t recall ever giving you permission to call me by my first name. You will address me as your father and go get your boss up here” 

“You lost the privilege of being my dad when you kicked me out!” Lyra was shaking, tears forming in her eyes. Her vision was narrowing, it was getting harder to focus, fear pulling at her mind and robbing her of her faculties. 

The man’s voice raised to a bellow “Just because you found someone to indulge your delusions doesn’t change anything even if It is like you, now go get that tran..”

KER-THUNK. As if by magic an ax embedded itself into the wall next to the interloper’s head. The keening wail of steel sliding free from a sheath drew Lyra’s eyes to the sight of her sister silhouetted in the doorway. A vision out of time made of fury bard in steel. A shieldmaiden head to toe, even her prosthetic leg had been clad in steel and leather. Rage marred Val’s features in a way that she had never known. Lyra looked on in awe as Val grabbed the man she once called father by the shirt and hauled him up to look her in the eyes.

“GET. OUT. OF. MY. SHOP.” 

Val’s voice struck the man like a hammer blow, every word making him flinch. 

“Look” he stammered “you have seen that ship you need to start making weapons and stuff so we can resist you were in the Navy and you are the only machinist in town!”

Val gawked at him, confusion on her face, and burst out laughing as she grasped what he was asking her to do. “You want me” she gasped out between cackles. “To make you weapons” more laughter, “to take on a ship bigger than the Hades” gasping for breath “oh pull the other one it's got bells on” Val continued to laugh wheezing for air till she caught the man’s eye. The impotent rage on his face made it clear this was not a joke. 

“We have to fight back! It’s the Accord way!”

Val took a moment, breathing deeply before opening the door and bodily tossing the interloper out on his ass. “You dumb patriot fucks wouldn’t know the first thing about service or the fucking price of it! If you want to commit suicide by battleship that is fine by me! But not at MY shop, endangering MY sister! Now LEAVE!” Val yelled, her shoulders heaved as she slammed the door and locked it.

Lyra looked on, shocked by the fury on her sister’s face and the casual way she had tossed the chief tormenter of her life out like a sack of potatoes. 

“Um, Val? You okays?” Lyra tentatively. She watched the fire in Val’s eyes go from incandescent rage to comforting warmth. The cracked smile tracing Val’s lips made her want to laugh or cry, Lyra wasn’t sure which.

Val sank to the floor, her back to the door. “You know what?” she asked breathing hard. “I have wanted to do that to that prick for years” her broken laughter giving away that her adrenaline rush was crashing. “Pretty much since I moved to this dirtball” she wheezed. “Do me a favor and go upstairs and in the cabinet above the fridge, there’s a  couple of bottles of something special, time to toast this” she asked with a manic edge on her voice.

Lyra nodded, her smiling tinged with concern before heading up to their loft apartment above the shop. Once the sound of the stair creaking reached her Val let the mask drop and let out a ragged breath, shoulders heaving and body shaking as she swallowed her fear and uncertainty. The bile in her stomach threatened to spill out as she forced herself to calm down. She staggered to her feet, leaning on the doorframe till she found her balance. Her hand had found the knife slung on at her back and its point was soon dug into her thigh. Just enough pressure to draw blood but not pierce deep and the blooming pain lancing up her leg brought focus and resolve. She would protect Lyra, no matter the cost, it was the only thing that mattered to her anymore. 

When Lyra got back downstairs, bottle and glasses in hand, Val had gotten herself together and was already sitting at their table. Lyra dropped into the chair opposite Val and set down the glasses as Val grabbed the bottle and poured out two big shots. Lyra knew in her bones that if she cared to look she would find a new burn or cut mark on her sister, but by unspoken agreement, she pretended not to know about that habit. 

Val raised her glass with a crooked smile and fire again in her eyes, “To my royal Princess sister and throwing the trash out!” she called.

Lyra clinked her glass and called a cheer before tipping back her drink and nearly gagging. Gasping for breath after she swallowed. “Stars above what is this stuff?!?” 

Val smiled and casually refilled both glasses. “Engineroom rotgut brewed from nutricubes and plasma conduit distillate, the morpholine really gives it a kick.” 

“Why are we drinking this? This is a crime against nature” Lyra protested.

“Because it's the only bottle I got left and it will get us fucked up good” Val drawled. “Now have another big girl!” 

Glasses clinked and were slammed down. It only took a few more rounds before Lyra was slurring her words and swaying in her chair. 

“Heyyyy Vaaallll, like what do you like calla viking hero? Cause you are my herrroooo” she spoonerized. 

“A thane, Princess” Val replied sweetly.

“Youuuurrrr my big sister thannneee” 

“Yup and you are my dorky Princess of a sister now let's get you to bed okays?” 

Val was barely impeded as she had only been having only been sipping drink to Lyra’s three full glasses but that was her secret as she helped her intoxicated sister to her bed. With her sister safely ensconced in her bed, Val tidied up their shared space and guzzled a couple of glasses of water as she did. Doing chores all dressed up was a strangely enjoyable experience, this wasn’t a bad way to spend what was probably her last day alive, she mused. She had just finished the washing up in the sink when she heard the distinct sound of plate glass being broken downstairs.