through a defensive patrol, one of the fighters crossed right into her path. Excitement gathered in her throat. The slow, clumsy ship barely registered her presence before she attacked. She shrieked out her war cry, the energy blasting from her mouth. The beam impaled the ship, killing it.
Her sister shimmered into space beside her. She spun, crying out victory at her first kill. Together they fell upon the Narn ships, their mouths screaming destruction, their bodies cutting through the invigorating vacuum, swirling in a dizzying dance of death.
Soon the Narn ships and the probe were in pieces, and Anna and her sister rejoiced in their power. The Eye showed Anna what she must do next: the outpost below, covered in flames, every building destroyed. Anna cried out to her sister and wheeled closer to the planet, and to the outpost on the grey continent below.
She held her body in perfect control. Neurons fired in harmony. Cleansing and circulation were synchronized in sublime synergy. The complex, multileveled systems beat out a flawless march. The skin of the machine was her skin; its bones and blood, her bones and blood. She and the machine were one. She felt tireless, invulnerable.
The outpost was far below, yet she could sense its buildings, its generators, its Narns-more than ten thousand of them. She calculated the most efficient targets within the widespread outpost for maximum destruction, coordinated her speed, course. There must be no survivors.
A weak energy beam shot past her from behind. One short-range fighter had survived. It was unworthy of her attention. She and her sister spread over the outpost like a shadow, shrieking in exultation as they delivered great balls of destruction. Their shrieks sang an oratorio of evolution through bloodshed.