The longer I fought here, the more plugged in I was to the information channels of the defense as Imperial Forces with Marked among them filtered down and in, pumped that data into Markspace, and cycled it through the Strategos to give insight and advice.

There were some Marked junior officers who were going to get some very quick promotions after all this.

The key information is that they had determined the location of the goblins’ primary headquarters, where their warlord was leading the fight from.

It was time for me to pay some sort of visit to the place. Of course, it was literally a continent and an ocean away, which actually didn’t mean anything if I teleported into orbit, spun around the planet, and came plummeting back down. Half hour tops.

I skidded to a halt in the shadow of some warmachines obliterated by artillery fire. A few seconds later, looking rather ragged and smudged despite herself, and with streaks of green goblin spread around here and there tastefully, Madame Lolith flowed over the goblin transport and landed a couple steps away.

She was eying me carefully, seeing that I looked completely unmarked by all the slaughter and running around at superhuman speeds I’d been doing, and hadn’t even broken a sweat at any point.

“So, it turns out the goblin command post is located seven thousand miles in that direction,” I pointed kindly, and she glanced that way, doubtless making calculations in her head. “I’m going to go orbital, circle the planet, and drop down on top of them, then make a nuisance of myself. So, if you want to have a duel, I’ll make some time if you want to go at it.”

She regarded me carefully, glancing around. The Song from Chalice had faded, and all the noise of combat seemed to be very energetically heading in another direction. Nobody was currently able to see us, and if they could pretend we weren’t there, they’d doubtless be very happy-

I snapped my head around, the goblin sniper went “akkK!”, and then his flat, wide head blew apart four hundred yards thataway.

Chalice made up another stanza on the spot.

“Here?” she asked with a sniff.

“No.” I flicked Chalice, and a slit in space opened up. I glided on through, and she hesitated only a second before following me.

----

Keva waved her arm through the Rift, forcing it shut, while Jensa shoved us both off towards the bath there, making stinky-faces at us. Madame Lolith raised an eyebrow, took it right in stride, and peeled off her attire without hesitation.

None of us were in breshkt mode, but we did all have Masks on, and our hair was still black, and skins a tanned bronze.

There was wine and fruits and cheeses of the subtler sort, as elvar only liked strong tastes in special circumstances. Blood was one of them.

She held her glass of wine nonchalantly, sniffing it once. “Rodigerian,” she pronounced. “Twenty to thirty years old. Grown off-world. Pruscima?” It wasn’t a question... she was quite sure of her answer.

“Yes, the gene strain is right there,” I agreed. “The mineral configuration would fit Pruscima. That’s some sense of taste.”

Since she was sensing it psychically at that level, my reply amused us both. “I see you aren’t seriously considering dueling me.” She glanced tellingly at Jensa, Keva, and Celestia playing cards nearby, practicing sleight of hand on one another.

“Nor were you. If you haven’t realized I’d kill you in duel by now, you’re nowhere near as smart as I think you are... and I think you are murderously smart, Madame.”

Her delicate chin rose aloofly. Truly, she was a fantastic beauty by the standards of humans or elvar, and she knew it. I was tamping mine down with the Curse, although I was sure she could survive the revelation.

“You are not breshkt,” she stated firmly.

“If you mean our drow genetics weren’t passed down the traditional ways, you’re right. High gravity nymphals.”

She looked at my Nothing to See Here, at the girls, quirked an eyebrow. “Elective, I see?”

“Distracting when needed. Amusing, at other times. Lethal in yet others.”

“And you have a way in and out of Gloom.” Kinda hard to disguise all the black, white, and grey environment around us.

“Courtesy of the drow,” I toasted her, and she lifted her glass in like amusement. “So, I’ve a few questions for you, Madame?”

“Oh?” She was probably looking for some sort of bargain, but she had nothing in that area I was interested in.

“Why aren’t you post-Twenty and Eternal?” I inquired calmly.

Just a flicker of eyes and a pause. My hair reached out, grabbed another bottle, popped it, poured me another glass, and then extended out across the scented bubbles to offer the same to her. She accepted smoothly.

“Eternal.” She gave me a look. “You sound certain of this.”

“One hundred percent certain,” I agreed firmly.

Her nostrils flared just so. “I have not found the way,” she admitted.

I rolled my eyes, which annoyed her. “The way is wide open, and right in front of you. Are you afraid to take the step? You have to know what it is. Is the Warp that scary? Or just too icky?” I chased my finger around the wine cup, which promptly began to sing. “Start slaughtering Greater Warp Demons and Demon Princes. You’ll make Twenty in no time flat.”

She stared at me as if I was slightly mad, and I grinned confirmation with a double canines smile. “It is not as easy as you make it out to be.”

“I’ve killed over a dozen of them, so yeah, it is. There’s vid popping around if you don’t believe me.” I just sniffed at her. “Keep restricting yourself to beating on things that aren’t any real threat to an Eighteen, and you’re never going to make it, of course. You might get a little something for beating someone like me... but given I’m a fresh Fourteen, maybe not.”

“Fighting the Warp is an excellent way for one of my people to fall to them,” she sniffed, turning her head slightly.

“I believe you. So, none of you will ever get strong enough to thumb your nose at them.” I sniffed at her. “Well, your race has been going down the metaphorical toilet for eight millennia, I suppose that’s par for the course.”

Her eyes flashed. “What of the Arena?”

“What of it? You’re an Eighteen.” I just rolled my eyes. “Come on, girl. You’re as high as any duelist is ever going to go. Maybe you walk onto a battlefield to duel someone, like me, but you don’t evince any interest in cutting down mecha or grav-tanks, dancing between artillery shells, or sitting in front of a cellulocust planet-eating swarm. Your Arena Glory is all empty shit doing nothing for you, all it does is sate the parasites sucking at your souls and making you their slaughterslaves and give your lessers something to desire. For you... it does nothing.

“Do you need tips on Warp butchery, or something?”

“I’m sure I could work out the essentials,” she replied with cool confidence.

I just nodded. “So, that’s the wall in front of you. You either climb it, or you sit forever like you are... until the Warp comes for you, which it will at some point, and you won’t be able to fight it.”

Her scarlet eyes flashed challenge at me. “And if that is all I desire?”

“To eventually die to the parasites who’ve been sucking at you for the last seven thousand years? Girl, do I look stupid? You’ve put yourself in a position where every male and female drow in existence can only look up at you, you can take or reject whoever you want, and if you don’t like it, you can kill them.

“Amourae and Klaw both want you, and you have no way to tell them to fuck off, and won’t unless you break Twenty. In the meantime, you’re their little slavemistress, feeding them little grapes of souls and wine made from the blood of slaughter.” I just rolled my eyes.

“I have killed people for saying far less to me,” she half-snarled, and the murder in her gaze slid right past me and pinged off the stones behind me.

“Uh-huh, and you’re going to have make a decision now.” The perfect brow furrowed at me. “I know. All of us know. Hundreds of thousands of people know, now.” A weird light flickered in her eyes. “You’re rotting at the top, and we know it. You got lazy, afraid, depressed, despaired, or something, and you’re sitting at the foot of Klaw’s throne, licking his toes while Amourae is giving you tongue.

“You’re either going to have to start that climb, or you’re going to have to finish us, or you’ll go mad knowing so many know what you are. And if you try to finish us, well, you’re dead. At least with the demons of the Warp, you’ve got some chances.”

“You are underestimating me.” She sounded quite certain of herself.

It was my turn to smile. “Oh, oh no, I don’t think I am. If anything, I am overestimating you... and I will still beat you. If you go after my girls, well, they might not be able to beat you, but they can certainly run faster than you can catch them. And if we go hunting you, well, you won’t like the results of that, either. It will make the galaxy exciting for a time, certainly.

“But seriously, you want to be Eternal. You want to tell the Warp to fuck off. All you’re making yourself now is the last to get soulsucked of your people. You can make it there. You might be the only one of your people who can.

“You can make the tools. You’ve got the information sources. Hells, you can bring them right into your venue, if it will be faster and better if you kill them in public. It’s all right there. Go ahead and become an Eternal, girl!”

She laughed softly, and accepted a refill, nibbling at some berries as if kissing them exquisitely, looking to see if I was reacting. While I could appreciate all the aesthetics, and even get into them, I unfortunately got turned on by big fellows with muscles, body hair, and really big hands, rarr...

“Is this your goal as well?”

“Of course! What sane person wouldn’t be working in that direction, if they knew it was there?” I scoffed. “It just takes me more work than the average person...”

“More work?” She was fishing.

“You’ve got Eighteen in both your Melee and Drow Racial Levels. My Racial Levels are a bit more involved than yours. I’m making steady progress, of course, and the diet of Greater Demons sure helps, tho.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, it’s a dumb question, and I’m sure I’ll learn the answer shortly, but is there a racial refinement at Fifteen?”

She seemed to be wondering what to tell me, and finally nodded slowly. “It is called the Ascension to Purity, a refinement in body and soul. Reaching it is the dream of most of the drow.”

“Meh, shooting a little low, if you ask me.” Of course, I was a tier up, so what did I care of their little dreams? ExLite cheating bitch that I was... Not that every Ten in Markspace wasn’t abruptly whooping at the hot news, especially the grandkids.

“Without some means of overcoming the psychic power and sorcery of the Warp, what you are suggesting is not possible,” she finally sniffed, and her flawless eyes narrowed at my quirky smile.

“Right, because you have to keep all your psi power cooped up inside you, or it gives them something to feed on. But, you know, just because you can’t spend all that psipower, doesn’t mean you can’t use it.” I thorked my temple. “Has lots of psi she can’t use, either.”

Ah, see that? That little hidden spark of interest. “My people gain psychic power as naturally as breathing.” There it was, replacing their magical aptitude in other worlds, advancing at 3:4. So, as an Eighteen, she was equal to a raw Thirteen Psion, without all the bells and whistles.

“So, if you could just spend psychic power to offset Warp power used against you, that would work for you?” Drow were famously resistant to psychic powers, but not to the Warp.

Her eyes narrowed with a feral hunger...