As an explosion suddenly rocked the ship, McKnight and Sokolov both grabbed at the nearest support beam. Sarah grabbed at Sokolov. Cups of coffee clattered to the grounds, spilling their contents across the floor. Trapp gave out commands for the squad to get combat ready, but the majority of the squadron had already began moving towards their machines.

Sterling sprinted towards his machine, The dull roar that was the sound of the hangar going about their business intensified by several degrees as the sirens spurred engineers and pilots to headlong rush. Engineers sprinted to their stations, shouting things at one another and pointing at datapads and screens as machines and lifters with their mechanical arms quickly began arming the MAS's that still required servicing. Autocannon shells, plasma fuel, laser capacitors, and extra powercells were deftly handled by engineer's in Ultra-Light MAS's repurposed as lifter-exoskeletons as they loaded up the 7th team's weapons.

Sterling rolled his shoulders inside the cockpit of his MAS and took a deep breath before he pulled his helmet over his head and sealed himself within his flight suit. The helmet whirred to life as it booted up and connected to his standard issue neural implant, painting a heads up display over the helmet's faceplate. Sterling began starting up his MAS, grabbing the controls as he prepared himself. Sterling's Shrike, like most modern MAS's forgoed viewscreens, instead the walls of the cockpit became a seamless display, representing what the 'head' of the MAS saw. The display would change as Sterling turned his head, the Shrike's head synced to the movements of its pilot's head.

> Confirming Pilot Assignment: Sterling McKnight_
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems...

> Reactor Unit: Online_
> Shield Unit: Online_
> Targeting AI: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Online_

> All Calibrations Complete
> All Systems Functional
> Standby for Launch

Sterling listened as the other pilots sounded off, chiming in when there was a pause.

"Gallant, waiting on green." he called out over the squadron-wide comms.

Opening a separate line with Ariana, Sterling called out to her. "Keep on my ass Rookie. And don't even think about flying off on your own."

Sterling braced himself in his seat, as the platform that held his MAS's began to shift and turn, angling him towards the opening hangar doors. A pair of rails extended from the bottom of his platform, reaching out just past the threshold of the hangar doors. The rails matched exactly with a pair of smaller platforms that his MAS's 'feet' would step into. As soon as the MAS stepped onto the slots for its feet, these platforms clamped the feet in place. The rails began to glow as power started to course through them. Breathing out deeply, Sterling counted in his head backwards from five as overhead, a small screen above the launch bay displayed information.

> Catapult: Clear_
> Launch: OK.

3.

2.

1.
At one, the MAS surged forward, cables connected to the MAS's power unit snapping off with a powerful hiss as the platforms holding the MAS's feet rocketed forward along the electromagnetic rails, quickly ejecting the Lincoln's MAS's into the black void of space in mere moments. Sterling's head was forced to the back of his headrest as he was launched from the ship, quickly activating his thrusters, as soon as he exited the hangars.

The view was incredible. Spectacular and terrifying at the same time. The void of space that surrounded the planet Cerol was now filled with dozens upon dozens of ships. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers and the massive Coalition flagship flew in slow motion, as flashes of light from laser cannons and railguns crossed through the black empty. Around them, tiny flecks of blue lights- the thrusters of MAS's and aerospace fighters, zig zagged and spiraled around, lights flashing as their weapons fired, silent flowers of orange and white fire appearing as they were destroyed by eachother's weapons.

Taking a quick second to orient himself, Sterling remembered just how much he hated space combat. No solid ground or cover, so fire could come from almost any angle- and at any distance, and the only thing keeping him from dying in a vacuum was his MAS shields and a few layers of armor. Ejecting into space during a combat scenario was essentially a death sentence, with all the chaos around, free floating pilots were liable to get hit by stray debris, weapons fire, and otherwise large metal hazards.

On his HUD, a timer for 6 hours appeared, and began counting down in seconds, representing Sterling's effective combat energy supply. When the 6 hours ran out, he'd have enough energy to continue moving, and if he wanted to push it, continue fighting. But typically the energy that remained after the timer ran out was emergency power to get back to the staging area. On the opposite side of his helmet HUD, his helmet displayed his unit's various ammunition supplies for his weapons, as well as a general display of his unit's overall structural integrity and shield state.

Several ships from the Coalition invasion fleet had broken off to engage the Lincoln. In particular, a Coalition Andromeda Class Cruiser and its two frigates advancing into engagement range as the Lincoln's two destroyer escorts desperately rushed to free themselves from the station's docking clamps and assume defensive positions around the Lincoln. Further behind the Coalition cruiser, was another Cruiser and a destroyer which slowly moved in a wide circle as they prepared to flank the Lincoln and the station it protected.

Each Cruiser deployed a clutch of five MAS's, while each of the frigates deployed another set of three. The combined 16 MAS's quickly accelerated to attack speeds, rushing ahead of their ships to combat the 7th MAS team and the Aerospace fighters deployed by the Lincoln.

"You ready rookie?" McKnight called through his and Ariana's comm channel. "Keep it tight, and play it safe."

As Ari took a final, calming breath, she suddenly heard the sound of McKnight's voice on the COM, a private line based on the transmission icon on her display. He warned her to stay close, and not fly off, and Ari nodded, and was about to give a prompt reply. However, the words of the Captain floated through her mind

"Fight fire with fire she said. We're about to go into combat, this isn't a situation for ceremony. C'mon Ari, don't be so darn uptight!" She nodded, shook her head, and keyed the COM, saying "Got it, McKnight. I'll stay on your six and keep my own firmly attached to my body." She smiled at this, pleased that she'd managed an informal, if not overly friendly, exchange.

Then, however, the set-up for the catapult launch from the Lincoln began. Ari had done the sims countless times, she knew how it felt, as the sims were exceptionally realistic. This, combined with her high-g force training, meant she was more than prepared for the stress of a launch. As the Astelion stepped into place, she made sure to remind herself"It's your MAS Ari. It's yours now, and the one who used to fly her wouldn't want you to be so awkward, surely."

As this thought occurred to her, she watched the display before her flick on the countdown. Calmly getting a firm, but relaxed, grip on the sticks, and leaning her head back, Ari waited. When the display flashed a big, blue one, she felt herself being rocketed forward. In the back of her mind, she was aware she was being separated from the cables that kept the MAS on "ship power", and would be on combat supply the moment she was outside. However, most of her was too busy reveling in the pure thrill of her first launch. She couldn't help the adrenaline-caused grin that lit her face as the MAS rocketed out into the endless dark.

Immediately, Ari felt training kick in, and she set about righting the MAS. Thruster pumps to get her upright, movement to center her, all of it was part of training. While Ari had, at one point, been very disoriented by the sensation of space in the sims, she'd gotten over it. This wasn't too different, after all the only thing, she was told, that the sims couldn't accurately portray was true combat. That couldn't be so, though, could it? The sims were so difficult, so real looking, surely real combat couldn't be that different. Some part of her mind reminded her not to get cocky, that if the instructors said sims didn't equal out to real combat then they didn't, and she did listen to this rational part of her mind. Even as this small interior banter went on in her mind, Ari had righted herself and gathered her bearings, and was now scanning the battlefield.

All around the field, she watched aerospace fighters and MAS suits fighting, munitions streaking across the eternal night of space. As the bright flashes filled the space with colors, it was almost mesmerizing in a way. Intoxicatingly beautiful in a dark, strangely poetic way, as she watched the flash of guns. However, her stress levels spiked as she quickly realized that not all of these were just munitions detonations. She watched as an aerospace fighter, containing a pilot just like her father, was slammed into by a Coalition MAS. The fighter went spiraling away, engines flaring to regain itself, when an auto cannon shell cored it. The fighter exploded in a bright red, the same flashes she'd been watching mere moments before.

Suddenly, Ari wasn't so sure if she could do this. People were dying, all around her, all the time. She began to hyperventilate, panic coursing through her veins. So much death, so much destruction, of experienced pilots! What made her think she could survive this, with no battle experience to her name? Maybe she didn't belong here, maybe she should've stayed in the engineering program! Her head grew light and dizzy as air continued to come in rapid, ragged gasps.

"Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh, Idon'twannadie Idon'twannadie, I DON'T WANNA DIE!" The panicked thoughts filled her mind, overtaking all others. It took every ounce of training she had just to stop her from turning the Astelion around and fleeing at top speed, to get away from this killing field. She was beginning to grow feint however, and soon she'd pass out. Not that she cared, with the blind panic filling her, she couldn't care about anything but raw survival. She didn't want to die! She had so much of her life ahead of her! Why was she stupid enough to sign up with these adrenaline jockies and go fight?!

"You ready rookie?" McKnight called through his and Ariana's comm channel. "Keep it tight, and play it safe."

AS these words filtered through her COM, she could hear another voice as well, in her mind alone. "Ari, when you first get into combat, it'll be scary. You'll be completely terrified, you won't know what to do. It's of the utmost importance that you keep a cool head on your shoulders though. Don't let that fear rule you, for yourself and your comrades. You need to be dependable, you need to be able to fight without letting the fear stop you. I know you can do it, you're a Williams family pilot, and you'll do us proud. Just remember, calm is your friend, and panic kills more than any enemy gun."

This COM message, and the memory of her father's words, began to soothe Ari. Her breathing returned to normal, her head slowly cleared, and her confidence slowly began to filter back in. Her breakdown over, Ari released a deep, calming breath, allowing her recovery to slowly complete. She had to keep her cool, like her dad said, or else she could get them all killed. The very thought of that made her threaten to descend back into a panic, and perhaps fill the interior of her MAS with vomit, but it was again controlled with a deep breath. She knew she could do this, she'd been trained to do this, all she had to do was keep her cool. Her panic again subsiding into her chest, she gently reached over and keyed her COM again to answer Sterling, hoping he didn't notice the delay between him talking and her responding.

"I'm alright, green to go McKnight. I'll....I'll stay close, I promise." That done, she released the COM and watched the enemy MAS suits moving forward. As their guns slowly began to fire, and the bullets and shots raced around nearby, her panic began to grow again. This panic spiked when a shot winged her, thankfully the shot was small enough even the Astelion's limited shields protected her. However, this caused her instincts from the old sims to kick in. She wasn't in a Heavy, or even Medium, MAS, she was in a light unit. She couldn't stand there and take it, she had to dodge. However, her body refused to respond to her commands, paralyzed in fear.

"C'mon Ari, you've got to dodge. If you don't, you'll die and let them all down. You have to move, MOVE, MOVE!" With this firm, loud mental command, she snapped into action, firing the Astelion's thrusters and dodging the next volley. The Astelion's acceleration was incredible. That, combined with its speed, and sensors, made it perfect for dodging the enemy fire. She sent it through graceful maneuver after maneuver, enemy fire whizzing harmlessly into space. To all looking on, it'd seem the Astelion danced again, perhaps not as well as when its original pilot flew her, but certainly much differently. Complex patterns wove around missiles and lasers, while sudden bursts of movement sent autocannon shells flying off into the darkness of space. Ari, on the interior, was adjusting the sticks, and adjusting herself to the flight of this unit. She could slowly feel herself internalizing, coming to terms, with what was around her. She had to live, no matter what, that was what kept her going. She just thanked the lord she was a MAS pilot, not an infantrywoman, as it'd be much harder to come to terms with all this death if she could see the people.

With this done, however, she watched a Coalition MAS targeting her in particular. It seemed to be a medium unit, wielding an auto cannon, likely a Ferir MK.II based on its appearance. Back in training, they'd been taught that these units lacked shields, and so were especially vulnerable to things like the heavy plasma cannons on Ari's shoulders. However, it seemed it realized its own vulnerability as well, as Hammer missiles raced out towards her. While slower than most missiles, they were heavy, and Ari couldn't afford to be hit by one, she flew up, watching the missiles trace her, and a minimal grin lit her face as a course of action came to mind. Firing off her countermeasures, she gunned it down at the same time, and hoped. Sure enough, she watched as the confused missiles kept following the flares, having lost Ari's MAS. With a sigh of relief, she turned her attention to the enemy MAS. The X-50 cannons flipped into a ready state, and Ari's own math skills quickly combined with the MAS to create, and check, a firing solution. Of course, Ari's own contribution was limited, just a quick check of the solution the computer presented. With a soft sigh, she finalized the lock...and fired. She watched as the balls of energy that had been building fired out, racing towards the enemy MAS. It went to dodge, and indeed almost did, but the blast still slammed into it's right side, sending it spiraling, as the right half of the suit turned to slag.

Ari had to make sure, to make sure she was safe. A second solution, a second shot, two "seconds" became her first kill, and then Ari again shut down. She'd just....killed a man. All he was, all he'd been, all he'd ever be, brought to an end by her with a few pushes of a button. He'd been shooting at her...she had to do it, she knew that. But she'd still killed a man, she'd ended his life with precision and efficiency. She forcibly shook her head, growling to herself

"Keep it cool Ari! It's fine, it's all okay! You had to, you know that, so it's fine! This is war, you signed up for this! It's ALRIGHT!" With her own self given pep-talk, she realized she wasn't sure if she'd remembered to turn off the COM. She sighed minutely at this and, this time making sure to key it, said into the COM

"T-this is Williams, one enemy d-down. R-returning to standard formation."

Gerard quietly muttered a prayer to himself, not to any particular deity or because he wished for absolution, but simply because he found himself more at ease once he did so. He was about to reap the lives of his fellow men in a bloody harvest, something he did not enjoy in the slightest. Mouthing the end of the ad lib personal sermon, the Frenchman took a deep breath as the Marauder stepped out onto the rails. “Guillotine, aller au feu,” he subvocalised as he leaned forward in response to the sudden shunting movement of the rails. Relaxing back into his seat, his eyes remained fixed forward as he slowly slid into the sealed launching chamber. With a heavy clank, iron doors sealed behind him, shutting off the hangar from space. In front of him, a set of armorcrys doors slid open causing immediate decompression. Taking a deep breath, he smiled. “On est pare comrades?” he asked quietly through the comms, “aux armes!” With that, the rails shot forwards causing Delacroix to sink back into his seat, feeling the extreme g-forces pressing their invisible fingers into his body. As blackness filled his vision he felt a slight jarring sensation as the rail clamps released him, sending him shooting out towards his two comrades, one of which was already engaging the enemy.

“Well done, Sous-lieutenant,” Gerard said into the comms cheerfully, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice if one was looking for it, “your first kill, but remember there are still…15 of them.” Cocking his shotgun as his thrusters threw him forwards, he sped past McKnight and Williams. “Guillotine making a beeline for the ships with Brick. Keep the others off our backs, si vous plait!” he keyed into the comms. Inside the cockpit, Gerard fiddled with the joysticks and pedals, dodging and ducking as various debris and munitions floated about. However, maneouvering a 50 foot tall machine was harder than most people thought, various ballistics and lasers crashing against his shield, although none large enough to cause any real damage. Keeping his left pauldron forward to protect the anti-capital charge attached to his hip, Gerard spotted a few of the Coalition MASs switch targets from the aerospace fighters to the two advancing UEE MASs. Slightly heavier fire started to rain down on them, putting some strain onto the Marauder’s shields. Lifting up the barrel of his scattergun, Delacroix fired off a few ineffective shots, the heated iridium rounds scattering too wide at this range to do any real damage, but it at least caused one of them to take more evasive action. As it did so, it swatted a passing aerospace fighter out of the air with its sword, shearing off a wing and sending it spiraling downwards. Speeding up, Gerard shot towards the falling fighter. Grabbing onto the dorsal wings of the fighter, he reversed his thrusters as he struggled to stop the fighter from its spiral. There was nothing to smash into, but a slow, suffocating death in space was worse than the swift one of a crash. With a small heave, he threw it back towards the Lincoln. “Sokolov!” he said into the comms, “make sure this one gets home!”
“Tovarisch, this not the time for this!” the Russian replied.
“Do it Sous-Lieutenant!”

Turning back towards the offending coalition Ferir, Gerard narrowed his eyes again. “Shanks,” he said as he opened a private channel, “I will engage le con, but we need to break through to the capital ships. Let us open up a path.” With that said, Delacroix fed more power to his thrusters and surged upwards as he loosened the belt of shotgun shells extending from the shotgun's drum. By now the few coalition MASs that had moved to engage them had closed, and started to spray the two of them with automatic fire, draining Delacroix's energy reserves. Gritting his teeth, Gerard fired off his grapple, the electromagnet slamming into the first MAS's chest. With a single tug and button, the chain started to wind up again, sending the two catapulting towards each other. While Gerard was prepared for this, the Ferir clearly was not, flailing its arms as it tried to keep a grip on its weapon. Extending his legs just before impact, the full weight of a speeding Medium class MAS smashed into the Ferir's top half, sending them spinning in zero gravity. "I pass zis one to you, Shanks," Gerard shouted into comms as he placed the barrel of his scattergun into his enemy's back. Detaching his electromanet, he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, simultaneously shutting off his thrusters. With a heavy bang and the hiss-twist of melted metal the damaged MAS flew towards Shanks even as the recoil sent Gerard rocketing away. Looking into the eyes of the Ferir's nearest companion, Gerard shouldertackled the MAS as he holdtered his scattergun, drawing his axe in one fluid motion.

With a mighty swing, Gerard attempted to bisect the MAS at the waist but the powered blade of a sword parried, forcing him to counterbalance the reckless swing with his thrusters. Without a pause, Gerard grabbed the shaft of his poleaxe with both arms and reversed the swing, bringing the blade back up, scraping across the body of his enemy and leaving a large searing tear before smashing it back downwards with a full force blow. As the enemy brought his blade up to block it, the refined metal of the axe combined with the raw force behind it snapped it in half before the head buried itself halfway down his opponent's MAS, stopping just before the cockpit with a jarring motion. Wrenching the axe blade out of its newfound holster, Gerard swung horizontally, bisecting the arms and legs, leaving the cockpit slightly scratched, but the rest of the machine inoperable. Hopefully the recovery beacon was still working. As fire intensified on his position, the Frenchman grabbed the lower half of the MAS and lifted it up, using it as a shield. "I require assistance!" he said calmly into the comms, feeling the bullet impacts on the armoured legs of the machine corpse.

Familiar numbers and read outs flashed before her HUD as Maki prepared to be launched into combat. As the Hellcat was launched into the blackness of space, Maki hit play on her music player. Might as well fight to a beat. It was a familiar routine, but no battle was the same. As the 7th was launched into combat, they all braced for the initial barrage in that small window where they were vulnerable right after launch.



No shots came in, and Maki eased a little, immediately scanning for targets. The Hellcat's stealth drive and black paint job made it difficult to spot in space, at least until she started firing or silhouetted herself against something else. She heard McKnight brief Ariana on her first engagement, and pushed all concern for the rookie aside. No time to worry about others for now. She had a job to do.

"Alice, let's go with our usual drill. We'll hit them from their flank and I'll engage any who close in on us while you provide long range support." Maki spoke to her wingman, as she circled around and kept a wary eye on enemy combatants pointing their guns her way. Flying sideways instead of head on towards the enemy allowed them to set up a crossfire, though it was assuming the enemy pilots didn't have the sense to come from above or below.

Hearing Gerard's cry for help, Maki turned in his direction and quickly spotted the Fenrir firing on him. "Hunter copies, Guillotine. Engaging bandit on your twelve." Maki called out her target as she trained her autocannon on it. Coalition MAS were durable to make up for a lack of shielding, but even the best armour had weak spots and Maki didn't need to kill it with the first shot, just get him to stop firing on her squadmate.

The first round slammed right into the Fenrir's head, and Maki was quick to let a few more loose once she knew she had the correct point of aim. The Fenrir pilot turned to see who had fired at him, making her job easier. The next few rounds impacted the sensory devices in the Fenrir's head, effectively blinding it. That didn't stop the bastard from firing blindly in her direction, however. Most of the shots when wide, but there was a saying Maki kept to in combat - the enemy only needs to get lucky once.

"Scream! Aim! Fire!" Maki echoed the song playing as she aimed for center mass with her Rapier missiles. A salvo of four headed right for the Fenrir, followed by a five round burst for good measure. There was a brief pause where the Fenrir seemed to tremble from the force of the warheads penetrating, before the explosives detonated. The resulting fireball and confirmation on her sensors told her she had a kill. "This is Hunter, kill confirmed. You owe me one, Guillotine." She reported through the comms just as she spotted another Fenrir closing in at top speed after seeing her kill a squadmate.

"Fuck me." She cursed under her breath, when a bunch of yellow spots started appearing from the Fenrir's shoulder and she heard the warning alarm go off in her cockpit. A bright red "Enemy Missile Lock" notice flashed across her screen and she immediately hit the button for countermeasures. Small panels located strategically around the Hellcat opened up and started spraying a cloud of thick gas that would confuse the missile sensors

At the same time, Maki put the Hellcat into a quick reverse, all weapons aimed at the last position of the Fenrir behind the smoke cloud while looking for its trail emerging from around it. Seconds passed before the cloud of smoke was violently dissipated by the exploding projectiles, and right behind them was the enemy Fenrir. At least this pilot had the sense not to challenge Maki in a long-range gunnery duel. Which was unfortunate for her, since stupidity was a useful weakness to exploit in an enemy.

On the other hand, he seemed to think closing in would save him, or give him an advantage. They had both unleashed their missiles already, and Maki had the advantage of engaging a lot more Fenrirs to know their weaknesses. Her Hellcat would most definitely reload its launchers first. All she had to worry about for the next thirty seconds or so was his main weapon.

"Alright, let's dance." She greeted the incoming opponent with menacing grin no one could see.

Wes grunted as gravity ceased to exist, and the trash collected in his cockpit started to float. A can of beer had started floating back and forth, bouncing off his head on repeat. He ignored it as he attempted to get his bearings. The whole vastness of space was a lot to take in as his machine pivoted, retro thrusters firing madly as they attempted to get him relatively straight. Of course, the whole concept of down was pretty much thrown out the window, and he found himself flying flipped compared to his squad mates. "Curse you gravity!" he said in annoyance as he watched the FNG take it upon herself to take out an enemy.

"A word of advice, kid. Keep that comm off if you're gonna ramble to yourself. Other than that, good job. Like Guillotine said, there's still more to kill."

He grunted yet again in agreement as Gerard charged, Disposal flying fast behind him. As Guillotine took it upon himself to save a pilot, Wes spoke out, agreeing with Sokolov. "Leave the flyboys, they'll handl-" Sensors bleeped on his screen as suddenly a enemy MAS was launched towards him, the impact of Delacroix' shattergun throwing them in opposite directions. He had been focused on avoiding arms fire and was caught off guard.

Still, not one to disappoint, Wes caught the enemy with his left hand, sent spinning slightly until the jets fixed his momentum. For a moment their 'faces' stared at each other before Wes jammed the GAW straight down the Ferir's throat. He felt the reverberations as the gun fired, 1500 RPM pretty much destroying the smaller mech at this extreme close range. Judging by the vast cloud of red and black oil that came out, the pilot was dead. Wes wondered if it counted as half a kill or not.

Ignoring the call for assistance that was soon provided, Wes brought it upon himself to piss Maki off. In his vision, he noticed her being charged by another Ferir, who, despite taking the smarter move and getting closer to the Hellcat, had apparently forgotten that there were other enemies lurking about in this battlefield.

Thrusters set themselves to maximum as he charged at the enemy, coming up on its flank. Disposal shook violently as they collided, spinning in space as he spoke up, "This is Brick, two kills confirmed," as Disposal's left hand activated, the pistons charging up before being sent down upon the Ferir. The pneumatic fist rapidly connected with the 'gut' of the Ferir, not stopping its assault until the cockpit was exposed.

There would've been a ripping sound had they not been in space as Disposal violently tore it out. Wes had to hand it to them, the Coalition built their MAS tough. Not tough enough, however. The cockpit was crushed between Disposal's hand, instantly killing the fragile man hiding inside who had no doubt shit his pants.

"There's a shit ton of them, I'm gonna lay down suppressing fire, stay out of my damn vectors," Wes said as his GAW revved up. He wasn't worried at all about conserving ammo, but he wouldn't just fire all of it in one sitting. Short bursts were the key as his targeting computer helped him aim. The point of his fire wasn't to kill, only to send them ducking and weaving as he fired mostly at random targets, his lead filling the vacuum.

The Eagle stepped onto it’s rails, and in an instant, Alice’s demeanor changed entirely. This was no time for emotion or empathy. Neither won wars; they only clouded one’s judgment. As she was fired into the void with the rest of her team, she knew what she was going to do. She was going to kill people, because that’s what she was meant for, and she was good at it. No matter who her enemies were or what they did, she would not show them any amount of mercy. But she would not inflict unnecessary cruelty either. That was not her directive.

Effortlessly, Alice flew into formation, close to Delacroix and Shanks. Unlike most pilots, she rather liked zero-gravity combat. A third dimension added new complexities to combat and movement, the potential to move in any direction desired. While easier for most organic pilots, combat in an atmosphere felt somewhat limiting, and Alice excelled in fighting in an environment that lacked gravity. Despite this, the stark endlessness of space was disconcerting. She could blast through space at top speed, yet it could still seem as if she hadn't moved an inch.

While she couldn’t ignore the current mission, she did pay attention to Williams taking her first kill, and the following declaration hinting at the distress most soldiers felt the first time they killed someone. She had never felt the same apprehension with her first time, so she couldn't understand it. The best she could do was sympathize. But that would have to be saved for later as well. The theatre of combat wasn't a place for sympathy, even for one’s allies.

At Delacroix’s request for help, Alice gave a small “Understood.”, flying into position with her wingman Nishizumi and switching to the long-range ammo on her Scorpion rifle. When she spoke, her voice made no changes in pitch and tone, and thus sounded perfectly human.

Firing at incoming enemies, Alice noticed a damaged Ferir floating in space, torn to shreds from Gerard’s axe, but still showing signs of life inside. He seems to have left another enemy pilot live. Without a word, she activated one of her missile launchers and sent a shot bolting toward it. The MAS was weak and dismembered, so it would need only a single missile to destroy than the typical two for a intact mech. Indeed, the missile slammed into the machine and in a flash of light, sent the remaining wreckage drifting away in all directions.

“Alice, one kill confirmed.”

As she turned back to the enemies advancing towards them, she opened up a comm channel with Delacroix, and addressed him in his native language. Again, her voice was cold and emotionless, unaffected by her distinctive vocal flange.

“Vivre pour combattre un autre jour. If our enemies are allowed to live today, we will only have to fight them again in the future.”

With that, she closed the channel and went back to fighting the other machines. Working with Shanks, while he laid down covering fire to scatter the mooks, she calculated their movements and fired precise shots in their directions. She managed to hit a MAS two times, the destructive kinetic-plasma rounds ripping through the metal and tearing an arm off, allowing Alice to finish it off with a missile from her second launcher. She punctuated this with another unfeeling declaration.

“Two kills confirmed.”

Numbers slowly counting down flashed before eyes. The light from the console being the only thing to illuminate the cramped cockpit. Zero flashed across the screen and somewhere above him a green light flashed. Moments later the feeling of being thrown backwards as the Sentry gets accelerated forward; going from 0 to 300 kilometers in under 10 seconds about 1.45 times the force of gravity on a standard planet. Even in space Newton's laws still dictated every action. The Sentry rumbled and shook; there was a reason they called it a walking coffin. The piece of metal inserted in his breast pocket felt as if it was going to burn through his chest. A constant reminder of what would happen if they made just one mistake. The rumbling reached a crescendo as it reached the top of its ascent feeling as if at any moment a screw could come undone and the whole Sentry would fall apart. A blast door opened and moments later the rumbling stop, everything stopped.

Trapp let out a long release of breath as his helmets combat display updated. Names appeared in the top right corner; they indicated each member of the 7th currently they were all blue indicating all was clear. The Sentry its self was a bit antiquated in its control scheme, while most had advance high response displays the Sentry had a small console that would funnel most useful information and provided targeting solutions. Everything else was for the most part was controlled by an array of pedals, knobs, switches and sticks. It was a pigeons worst nightmare with all the shining things blinking ready to be poked about. Trapp accelerated the sentry forward falling in formation with the rest of the squad. As he did the console beeped and several targets appeared on his helmet display, each with distance markers closing in at a rapidly advancing pace. Trapp noted there positions before flipping another switch and switched his commms over to the Lincoln's CIC as the Sentry withdraw the autocannon from its back.

Trapp was bombarded by information as soon as he switched channels. All active squadron leaders were funneling their own information to the Lincoln as tactical support provided orders and information back. The UEE was all about efficiency even in war and every cog had to know its place to make sure the grand mechanism ran. Trapp funneled data through before switching the comms again this time to his direct communication line with the Captain. He spoke in a calm tone as if he was telling her about sports scores rather than combat information. " Fox, this is Odin the 7th is in the air and approaching the target. Current positions is x: 373221.46 y:21495853.3, contacts spotted and coming in fast probably here in under 3. Oh and Captain? I know how much you like firing you big guns into space and all but if you could refrain from hitting any of us, because we would hate to not be able to perform our potato duties."

After a response was given he switched the communications back to the Squad. He raised the autocannon as they accelerated forward and soon the C-MAD squadron came into range. As soon as the console flipped green he pressed his fingers down on the trigger. As he launched hotlead across the void, shots were returned. He wasn't aiming for kills in particular instead it was more about keeping as many off of the two fling bombs as long as they could. Not that Brick and Guillotine couldn't handle things themselves. As he provided covering fire his comms flared up as the Squad started throwing up reports and kill conformations. As the others moved in his eyes scanned the field. He was looking for something, among the chaos and he soon found it Hardballers having broken off from the main combat group and heading straight for the Lincoln. It was a shame that wouldn't be able to get there.

"We got Hardballers coming in. Wizard, Rabbit, Omega we are running intercept procedure C, Gallant your in charge of bomb team make sure that package gets delivered." He spoke in a firm and controlled matter. Soon afterwards his MAS broke off from the group with the rest of the intercept time and moved into position. Rabbit and Wizard were comfortable with dealing with high value targets and he knew they wouldn't crack under pressure and he wanted to keep at least Him and Omega with them for staying power just in case things got rough. He moved right into the lead hardballers trajectory four in total, the strike team was fast approaching. He raised the autocannon once more and pointed it down range. He waited as the sights swayed across his helmet, the console trying to get him a firing solution. Soon it hummed in acknowledgement as the sights locked onto the target. He pulled the trigger again and the ammunition flew and hit home slamming into the heavily armored Coalition MAS. The Hardballer took it and kept on moving forward across the sky.

The Coalition pilot took the shots in stride and launched its own volley of return plasma. Trapp moved quickly as it barreled across spacem one clean shot could shred the Sentry if it hit. He pulled to the left hard and his own helmet flashed as he quickly pulled right out of his g-force limit. But it worked as the plasma rushed by hitting empty space where he once was. Trapp was getting tired of this game very quickly and deiced it was time for more drastic measure. He strapped the auto cannon back and instead pulled out the combat tomahawk. People also underestimated the tomahawk pilots are taught to only use it in extreme circumstances. But a creative pilot could use it in other ways if they were feeling suicidal. Trapp realigned his path with the Coalition Mas and pushed the thing to ramming speed. The Hardballer's pilot was unphashed and pushed his own engines, it was a game of chicken. The pilot knew that the Hardballer could easily overpower the smaller MAS and swat it away like a fly if it got too close. As the two got close the Hardballer charged up another plasma shot and fired, at the same time Trapp slammed his controls and the Sentry pulled hard to left at the very last moment. The moments had to be perfected as one second too late and the Sentry would be gone.

His shields flared as the plasma bolt brushed past the Sentry, not making contact but the raw energy still enough to make the system flare. The Hardballer had little time to react as the Sentry suddenly moved but he was confident it had pulled out like the UEE coward it was. Soon after warning lights flashed through his cockpit as a tomahawk was buried into his left thruster. Trapp knew that piercing through the cockpit armor would of taken more resources and probable use of the Claymore Missile Launcher. But he did'nt need to kill the pilot or even pierce the reactor all he needed to do was make it go away. The thursters of any MAS were sensitive and making them malfunction was easier than blowing it up any other way. The tomahawk had just enough kick and piercing potential to it to do exactly as Trapp wanted. The thruster sputtered and then started blasting hard to the right. The resulting thrust and forced as Trapp pulled the tomahawk through and out effectively sent the MAS into tailspin spiraling to the right and away. If the resulting forces didn't knock the pilot out than it would be a while yet for him to come back for another run.

"This is Odin enemy disabled. Gallant what's your status??"

Alexis stood on her command platform, overlooking the CIC and the holo-display in front of her. She watched as little blue blips denoting the 7th launched into the battlespace. Her eyes then switched over to the incoming hostile forces. It was going to be a steep battle if people didn't play their parts, so she had to make sure everybody did. When she got the message from Trapp, she rolled her eyes and then smirked, "Don't fly into my ammunition then, how's that sound, commander? Focus now, there'll be time for jokes later."

"Ma'am, all units have deployed." an ensign said.

Alexis nodded, "Good, have the fighters commit to strafing the frigates, their engines are top priority until we can get clear of the Ulysses and move freely."

Launching from a hustling and bustling station like the Ulysses was always a time consuming activity. One had clearances and right of way applied as other ships passed through the illuminated lanes. Needless to say, an emergency launch was even more time consuming. There was no preparation so ships were still travelling in front of the Lincoln, hurrying to get out of the behemoth's way and away from the approaching battle. To top it off, launching from any station couldn't be done with engines at full speed, RCS thrusters along the length of the ship needed to be used so the engines didn't burn and melt the hull of the station; and when you have a ship the size of the Lincoln, using RCS thrusters alone made it a lumbering tortoise.

The deck guns on the Lincoln were already pointed at their targets, working out firing solutions and preparing for the first barrage once they were clear of friendly obstructions. The shield was raised and debris from the damages Ulysses were bouncing harmlessly off of it. The main engines were on but not propelling the Lincoln and blast shields were lowered over the observation decks. With all of the fighters and MAS units launched, the hangar doors closed also so a lucky shot wouldn't cause internal damage.

Hark, the head of the marine bastion aboard the Lincoln entered the bridge. "Captain Marquis, the marines are ready to repel any boarding parties that might come our way. The dropships are ready should we need to perform a boarding action. We're standing by. The ultra-lights are also fired up."

Alexis looked to Hark and nodded. The sergeant was flanked by two marines, all of them holding onto shotguns. In boarding actions, shotguns were the king. Many shipboard marines preferred them over assault rifles. UEE naval shotguns were compact, short enough for extra close encounters. They used a bullpup design with a ten shell magazine. The naval shotguns had controllable choke settings for a wide cone of fire or a tight cone of fire at longer distances.

The marines, including Hark, were all wearing sleek white armor with input jacks along the back for ultra-light MAS interface. Hark's armor was customized a bit, with a plain gray steel plate attached to the chest. Similar to MAS pilots, Hark had kill marks on his left forearm, the fact that it was people and not machines made them seem a little more morbid. Alexis forgot how vicious Hark was in combat, when he was a MAS pilot, Hark had flown into the hangar of a coalition carrier alone and with only its combat knife. He earned the nickname 'Bloodhound' after that since his MAS was practically coated in red.

During combat, Hark and his two marines acted as personal escorts for Captain Marquis. His presence was required on the bridge at such times, or wherever Marquis would be during combat. The UEE didn't like their officer's ending up in the wrong hands, the Coalition had some disturbing ways of getting information out of them.

Marquis looked back to the holo-display and watched as the 7th got to work. She heard Ariana's rambling over comms, along with the rest of the bridge. Hark chuckled, "Green as grass."

Alexis didn't respond to Hark, she had been exactly where Ariana was. A green and innocent rookie in the cockpit of a MAS. She was top of her class when she joined the UEE navy and was also assigned to the 101st as 3rd Team Leader, back when Commander Glenhelm ran the battalion. She took in a breath and listened to Ariana. Alexis was glad that Ari claimed first blood, and so used to that help with the praise and get Ari on her A-game. "First blood, lieutenant! That's a good omen for rookies on their first battle! Do the 101st proud and keep it up. Three kills and I may include a bonus on your paycheck." the crew of the bridge looked up at Alexis, wondering why they never got bonuses. She looked down at them all, "Back to work!" she commanded with a hard tone. She heard the scolding tone from McKnight after her comment, he was right, she shouldn't have encouraged Ari in such a way; Alexis knew the gamble on such a risky encouragement. She had done it out of intuition, Aston had once encouraged her the same way and now she's the captain of a battle-carrier.

The rest of the 7th started reporting kills, things were going well. She did notice however that Brick was fighting more than he should be with an anti-ship bomb strapped to him. "Brick this is Fox. I shouldn't have to remind you that your target is the cruiser, time is not on our side here so get moving. Guillotine, that destroyer is coming into range and the Lincoln isn't clear of the station yet, double time it to that ship."

Alexis agreed when McKnight ordered the fighters to withdraw, but she saw two MAS units headed to finish them off. Her eyes switched over to Maki and her Hellcat on the display, "Hunter, change of plans. Our fighters are withdrawing but two coalition units are moving to intercept them. Back 'em up and make sure those pilots make it back in one piece. Stand by on reserve once they've reached the Lincoln."

"Skull squadron," Alexis then spoke to the fighters, "Continue withdraw. Once Hunter has engaged the hostile units, turn back and assist her. Complete your withdraw after you're clear."

When the elite MAS units came into the display, Alexis tensed. They were headed for Ari and McKnight, their commander must've spotted the amateur moving patterns. Marquis had partially counted on them not noticing. "Gallant don't rush ahead, take a defensive stance."

But McKnight had already rushed forward. Alexis mumbled something to herself, "Damn psycho..." she gritted her teeth and watched as two of the elites were taken care of. The commander was good, though, and he was in an equally good MAS to top it off. She watched as McKnight's blip from blue to yellow as he took a heavy hit from the Mk III's plasma cannon. She also watched as the rookie moved in to assist McKnight, ultimately overcoming the elite unit. She was impressed that Ariana had done that, certainly worth some praise after the battle was done and over with.

"Gallant, what is your status?" Alexis asked, "McKnight, damage report."

She sighed, hoping there wasn't going to be another death in the 7th so soon after Tori's.

She got the report from Maki and it made her smirk. She made a mental note to reward Maki with a bottle of Gerard's wine and a box of pockies. "Noted, Hunter. Keep your head in the fight and not where it might be later."

"Captain, incoming priority transmission!" she heard one of her comms operators speak. She wasn't delighted with who appeared on screen.

"Captain Marquis, I am now giving your MAS squadron a priority command. You are to send your team to protect my shuttle, as it exits the Ulysses and escort it to your ship immediately." the blueblooded admiral said matter-of-factly.

Alexis looked at the flow of new incoming information. "Sir, the 7th is currently locked in combat. If they withdraw now they'll be easy targets."

Ardin looked unimpressed, "Your fighters can cover their retreat."

"My fighters are withdrawing after taking heavy losses, sir. The best I can do move the Lincoln closer to speed up the rende-" "I want the 7th, captain. Don't make me repeat myself again."

With that, the transmission cut. Alexis looked at the holo-display. Her eyes ventured to McKnight and the rookie, coming close to the edge of the battlespace after Gallant took the heavy hit. She looked to Maki and Alice as they moved to cover the retreat of the fighters. Brick and Guillotine were now within gun range of the coalition cruiser, turning them back would spell their death. The rest of the 7th in close escort with Disposal and the Marauder could perhaps be retasked, but that'd leave the two bombers woefully unprotected from coalition MAS units.

Alexis looked at the Lincoln on the display and clenched her teeth, "Helmsman, full speed ahead, point us at the coalition destroyer." she looked to the gunnery chief, "Get me a firing solution for the WMG."

The helmsman was uncertain and looked back to the captain, "We're not clear of the Ulysses yet, ma'am. Our engines could damage the sta-" "The station is already damaged and we're no good here. Do it."

Alexis then addressed all of her units in the battlespace, "All units, all units. The Lincoln's main gun is firing on the coalition destroyer. Clear the firing line." a red line drew from the Lincoln to the destroyer and a countdown started as the wave motion gun powered up.

Alexis then radioed to her two escort ships. "Gemini I, Gemini II this is Marquis. Do not engage the enemy. Fall in with Admiral Ardin's shuttle.

She changed her channels, "Hatchet. Echo. Break off from your squadron and move to the admiral's shuttle. Guillotine, hold your charge, sensors are detecting another cruiser moving to outflank us. For now, work with Alice and escort Brick so that he can deliver his charge. Once complete, the three of you will withdraw to the Lincoln and stand by on reserve. Odin, once you and your team have dealt with the hardballers, withdraw and stand by on reserve as well." a yellow blip took over the blue on one of the admiral's elites, then it vanished. Three MAS units were approaching the shuttle. "Double time, 7th."

Captain Marquis mumbled again, "He wouldn't be a target if he didn't paint his shuttle to look like a damn limousine..."

She looked back to the counter for the main cannon, ten seconds. The Lincoln was now at full burn and finally moving into the battlespace as a combatant. "Deck guns, target the hostile frigates, fire when ready." As if on cue, thuds could be heard from the bridge as the cannons lining the battle-carrier opened up on the smaller vessels. Impact and shield indicators lit up over the frigates on the display. But the frigate shields would only last so long against a continued bombardment from the Lincoln.

"Captain, the wave motion gun is ready to fire. Friendlies have left the firing line and the target is locked, awaiting your command." the gunnery chief said.

Alexis looked at the display and gave the order. "Fire."

"Firing!"

The shot was brilliant. From the nose of the Lincoln, a bright white streak surged forward, along with a thunder-clap of noise despite it being in space. The massive plasma projectile moved forward quickly, and when it hit the destroyer, the target was beyond saving.

The plasma simply pushed through ship's shielding. It melted away the meters of heavy armor like a hot knife through butter and sliced on through the many decks of the destroyer. The metal that wasn't melted away was searing white-blue hot. Orange secondary explosions started appearing all across the two halves of what was the coalition ship. Some escape pods were seen ejecting, they were falling toward Cerol; those lucky survivors would be prey for the planetside forces and captured. Sensor suites on the Lincoln traced the pods and found their predicted landing zones, alerting the forces on the ground to deploy and capture them as they landed.

The firing channel inside the Lincoln was a boiler room, the metal plating along the entirety of the barrel's length was glowing orange from the heat.

The gunnery chief went along with the protocol and told Alexis exactly what she already knew, "Target destroyed."

"Thank you, chief." Alexis said with a bit of a smart-ass tone in her voice, it made the chief chuckle.

"Should I acquire a firing solution on the frigates, ma'am?" he asked.

Alexis shook her head, "Negative, our deck guns can do enough to them so our MAS units can clean up after they handle the cruiser." she looked to the helmsman again, "Combat speed. Port seventy degrees. Screen Admiral Ardin's shuttle and its escorts until he is secure."

"I'm a little busy!" Maki replied over the comms as she engaged in a dogfight with the Fenrir still trying to get a kill shot on her. The Fenrir pilot knew what he was doing, but he was engaging in a close-quarters, turning fight with a Hellcat. Maki had the upperhand in this regard, if only Fenrirs weren't so sodding durable. Her shots were on target, but the Fenrir's armour was holding up. Most of her shots were either just chipping chunks of armour off and doing nothing else, or damaging minor systems that wasn't really slowing the enemy down.

"Well, if guns don't work..." She hissed, throwing the Hellcat into a vertical bank and as the Fenrir tried to swivel itself around to catch a lead on her would be position, his gun ready to obliterate the Hellcat when it entered its field of fire. If it entered the field of fire. Right in the middle of the move, Maki threw her machine into a somersault, and fired the leg thrusters, essentially bring the Hellcat flying down on the Fenrir's rear at full speed, right in melee range.

Her plan had been to activate the Hellcat's melee weapon, the energy sword, and slash down the Ferir lengthwise. It was very promptly interrupted by Wes, who crashed into her opponent just as she was about to attack. He knew full well she could have handled a Ferir in close quarters, and she knew he was just screwing with her to deny her the kill for her Ace.

"Do your fucking job instead of screwing around, asshole!" Maki yelled over the comms, furious. What the hell was the bastard thinking, exposing his back to the enemy with a bomb strapped to it? He was actually doubling back just to troll her instead of delivering the payload to the enemy. Now wasn't the time to be bickering, however, so she just fired a Rapier at the Ferir Disposal was pummeling, certain Wes would be caught in the splash of the explosion. It wouldn't hurt him much, but it'd piss him off. Tit for tat.

"Hunter, en route to engage." She reported before hastening towards her new objective. She was tempted to make some jab about Alexis watching her ass a little too closely, but now wasn't the time for it. Besides, she was still seething about Shanks' unprofessional conduct. "Brick, fuck around with me again and I'll shoot you myself."

An approach vector drawn on her console, Maki flew the Hellcat at full speed, confident the other Coalition machines would be either too far away or too busy with the rest of the 7th to do much else about her other than warn their comrades, and even then it was unlikely they'd seen her. Well, as long as she was still closing in and not actually engaging targets, she saw no harm in ribbing Alexis for her comment about giving Ariana a bonus. "Hey Cap, I'm one kill short of my Ace, I'm expecting some kind of reward as well!"

As the 7th Squadron moved to engage the enemy, Sterling held back a moment to survey their current situation. The Coalition had deployed a total of 16 Ferir MAS's to engage the 7th Squadron. This number itself was fairly impressive as it stood- While in this situation the Coalition clearly outnumbered the UEE forces, typically the Coalition relied on a small number of effective MAS's to accomplish what several wings of UEE fighters could. Each Ferir, for as ungainly as it appeared, could outmaneuver and shoot down at several UEE Naginata fighters with ease. UEE fighters typically had to outnumber Ferir's by 3 to 5 in order to break through the hardened defenses of the Coalition armor suits- though a lucky missile hit could easily level the playing field. This combat effectiveness could be clearly observed, as a Ferir clipped one of the Lincoln's fighters, which was rescued by a combination Delacroix and Sokolov. Though for all of Delacroix's gallantry and chivalry, the Lincoln's Naginata fighters were still woefully outmatched.

---

> Skull Squadron - Naginata 07
> Lt. Richard 'Calvin' Klein

"Carmine's been hit!"

"Fucking Coalition bastards!" Klein cursed as his fighter banked left, G forces sending him into his seat as he pulled away. The nimble Naginata fighter silently screamed through space as its pilot and his wingmates moved to engage an oncoming Ferir.

The Hl-10 Naginata Aerospace Fighter was arguably the UEE's most effective fighter design, a heavily armed and armored gunship capable of high speeds and equipped with a heavy payload, making it a highly capable multi-role fighter. Before the Coalition introduced the concept of Mobile Armor Suits into warfare, the Naginata Fighter had been the most widely produced and effective fighter design in the galaxy, cheap enough to be deployed in massive numbers, but effective enough to shoot down pirates, terrorists, rebels, and the like. However, now that the Ferir's were in play, the UEE Aerospace fighters found themselves woefully outmatched by these heavily armed and armored machines

Klein and his two wingmates homed in on a single Ferir, their twin-chin mounted cannons painting lines of glowing lead in the blackness of space. Despite its heavy and ungainly appearance, the Ferir easily weaved in and out of the lines of cannon fire. Klein glared the MAS down through his cockpit, forcefully jamming down on a firing stud with his thumb, smiling with grim satisfaction as he watched the exhaust trail of a Claymore missile leave the wing of his fighter. The Ferir changed from charging to retreating, firing at the missile as three naginata fighter's chased after him. The missile exploded, resulting in an orange burst and a cloud of smoke as the Ferir disappeared.

"Got one!" Klein cried triumphantly, the hollering and cheering of his wingmates in the background making his victory sweet. His victory was shortlived though, as a warning sign began painting the inside of his cockpit red. "Wha-?"

Out of the smoke burst the coalition Ferir, its armor blackened from smoke, but otherwise undamaged. It rocketed towards the Naginata fighters, autocannon in one hand, combat knife in the other. The Naginata fighters opened up with their cannons again, which the Ferir deftly dodged as it landed a trio of autocannon rounds on Klein's left wingmate, the pilots pained cry screaming across comms before it cut off suddenly as its fighter exploded.

Klein took a moment to watch his wingmate explode. Rapidly turning back to face the foe in front of him, the color drained from his face as he realized the Coalition MAS was already upon him, arm surging forward with combat knife in hand. Klein through his hands in front of him as if to protect himself from the massive blade.

"Aaaauughh!"

---

> 7th Squadron - Shrike Mk III
> Lt. Sterling 'Gallant' McKnight

"Lieutenant Hawkins! Pull back your fighter team, the 7th will handle it from here." Sterling barked over the comm.

There was a pained silence, but eventually the comm flared to life. "... Roger that McKnight. Skull Squadron falling back." came the terse voice of the Fighter Wing commander. "Make sure you take them all down." Hawkins added in a bitter voice as him and his 6 remaining fighters pulled away from the fight and fell back towards the Lincoln.

Sterling and the rest of the 7th team surged forward to meet the oncoming Ferirs. Sterling silently counting in his head as kill confirmations streamed in from his wingmates. While 16 Coalition Ferir's would've been a death sentence for a squadron of UEE MAS regulars, the 101st was a completely different story. Sterling let out an almost automated 'roger' as their squadron leader took a small team to engage a group of Hardballers that had quietly deployed from the far Cruiser, no doubt with the intention to sink the Lincoln while its escorts were struggling to free themselves from the station. As Odin pulled off with Wizard, Rabbit, and Omega, he left the remaining 8 Ferirs and the protection of Brick and Guillotine up to Sterling, the newbie, Maki, Alice, and Yuu.

"Team, break formation," McKnight called over the comms, "Brick, Guillotine, engage your respective targets, Sokolov, lead Guillotine in. Echo, do the same for Brick. Alice will spearhead the way for Guillotine's team. Me and the rookie will spearhead Brick's."

"Hunter, those two Ferir's are chasing those fighters. Handle them."

McKnight continued, "Good job with your first kill Rookie, but don't get cocky- and don't take the captain seriously. Do not go actively looking for kills."

"That's how rookies die. You should know this, Captain." McKnight added in a tense tone, almost scoldingly. "Alright 7th team, move!"

Sterling jammed the throttle, and his MAS tore ahead of the group, trusting Ariana to be on his tail as they made their way towards the Cruiser. Four Ferir's broke off to engage Delacroix, Sokolov, and Alice, while the remaining three prepared to defend the cruiser. An alert popped on Sterling's screen, as a magnified image of the Cruiser's launch bay came into focus. The Cruiser must have been holding the commander's team in reserve, as out came a pair of Ferir Mk II's, led by a Ferir Mk III. Sterling's eyes widened, and he quickly barreled to the left, as a lance of plasma seared through the space he had just recently vacated. Sterling's grip tightened over his controls. Six Ferirs they could've handled, 4 to 6 was a decent ratio, but a Mk III threw a new wrench in the situation. Ferir Mk III's were bad news, and its primary weapon was capable of slagging anyone with less than a Class 3 shield generator.

Sterling rushed past the two defending Ferir's, and moved to engage the new group that had just emerged, trusting Yuuyami and Shanks to be able to handle a pair of Ferir's. "Williams, we're hunting the big game now. Mind the commander's plasma cannon, and do not get hit."

The Shrike rushed forward, its alloy shield raised and covering the center of the MAS while his EKP autocannon took aim at the oncoming enemies. As firing solutions on the oncoming Ferir's appeared on his screen, Sterling's hand flexed around his controls. He pulled on the trigger and released a burst of EKP rounds, following it up with a pair of Broadsword missiles. The powerful Kinetic-Plasma rounds tore through the unshielded, Ferir MAS, sending it spinning as dozen rounds tore into its arm, leg and torso. The pilot somehow managed to correct himself, and turned around in time to take a Broadsword missile to the chest.

---

> C-MAD - Tigeres Team - Ferir Mk II
> Lt. Andrew 'Nessie' Loch

"Oh shit, that UEE bastard almost-" Brent's voice cut off as a missile collided with his unit, exploding and turning his heavy Ferir into a spread of debris.

"Damn you!" Loch roared at no one, as his machine rushed forward, a burst of heavy 35mm autocannon rounds intercepting and destroying the second missile. His Ferir lunged forward to meet the oncoming UEE MAS's.

"Keep your head in the game, Loch." Came the voice of Commander Tigeres over the comm, as his Ferir Mk III strafed left, firing plasma bolts at the rear machine with the large boost-capacitors on its shoulders.

"I'm going to kill this sumbitch!" Loch replied indignantly as he charged the white MAS with wings, its head oddly resembling some sort of techno knight. How the hell did the UEE machines get so advanced so fast? The Coalition were the creators and masters of the MAS, how could they be getting outdone by UEE engineers? Loch's Ferir charged, autocannon in one hand, combat knife in the other, a pair of hammer missiles launching from his shoulder launcher as autocannon rounds bounced off of the white machine's alloy shield. The white MAS deftly juked his heavy missiles, stowing its weapon behind its back as it drew a beam saber, sustained bursts from its chest mounted rotarty cannons shooting the oncoming missiles down.

The white machine shot forward with surprising speed, forcing Loch to thrust backwards, his autocannon firing burst after burst at the target. The white machine either dodged or blocked the fire with its alloy shield, and continued to gain on Loch's slower Ferir. The enemy's beam saber arm reared back to prepare a strike, and Loch saw his opening, he rushed forward with his combat knife, intending to stab the white machine's now open right-chest.

"Take this you UEE upstart!" Loch cried triumphantly, as the white machine juked to the left, its blade cutting low across his Ferir's torso. The blue white of a plasma saber filled his view screen and disappeared, returning moments later as the brilliant white-blue energy began tearing into his cockpit. His helmet visor rapidly polarized as it tried to protect its pilot from the intense heat and light, shattering moments later. Loch saw the bright blue-white light, and felt intense heat. Then he felt nothing.

---

> 7th Squadron - Shrike Mk III
> Lt. Sterling 'Gallant' McKnight

"Alright Williams, just the big one left." Sterling called out to Williams, flying away as the second Ferir exploded. He keyed the comm to continue when Trapp cut in.

"Gallant what's your status?"

"Odin, stand by we're currently-" Sterling was cut off as a plasma bolt sailed into him and struck his unit in the back. Sterling reared forward, his harnesses keeping him in his seat as machine spun wildly. Red warning lights and alarms blared around him as his depleted shield system screamed at him and his right tesla drive coil read critical. The Shrike tumbled through space as Ferir Mk III leveled its plasma cannon at him, preparing for what was likely to be a killshot.

---

> Onboard the Lincoln

"Captain! one of the communications officers called out, "Incoming priority transmission!
Called out a communications officer, as one of the four displays that flanked by Marquis' command chair came to life. The face on the holodeck was none other than the face of the vaguely serpentine seeming nephew of the Emperor, Admiral Ardin.

"Captain Marquis," Ardin said in a voice that was not so much commanding as it was expectant, "I am now giving your MAS squadron a priority command. You are to send your team to protect my shuttle, as it exits the Ulysses and escort it to your ship immediately."

Coming up on another screen was an image of the Admiral's shuttle- very recognizable even in the void of space with its opulent gold trims and crests, as well as the sigil of the Imperial Dynasty on it. In a formation around it was a trio of Sentries, painted the jet black of the Imperial Service, as a fourth one stayed behind to draw fire from a oncoming trio of Ferirs. The lone Sentry was easily overwhelmed and exploded into a blast of fire as the shuttle and its remaining escorts continued fleeing towards the Lincoln.

Encouragement after encouragement flowed over the COM after her kill confirmation, and...it felt good. It felt so incredibly, stupidly good, in a way that made her feel like a kid again, with her dad congratulating her on doing multiplication right. It made her feel appreciated, like she belonged in the squad, and that made her smile. It was scary, in a way, that she was smiling so soon after landing a kill, but in another way it made such sense. She had just done something right after all, something to prove she wasn't just a sham of a pilot. That was worth it, wasn't it? She watched as McKnight began to fly further ahead, to spearhead for Wes and pave the way. She urged the Astelion forward and kept pace with McKnight easily...and then watched him shoot off ahead, through the enemy, towards a newly emerging group. Without another thought, she gunned the Astelion forward through the line, right beside McKnight.

She watched, almost awestruck, as McKnight rushed into combat with the pair of IIs with the III. He was destroying them both, alone, and it was utterly incredible. However, she kept her eyes on the III and watched as its plasma cannon fired...right at her. It didn't take a genius to know the Astelion couldn't tank a hit from that and keep going. It wouldn't even survive the blast, if she was hit by that there wouldn't BE a body to bury. There wouldn't even be ash, nothing would remain of Ari, and likely very little of the Astelion. She had no choice but to gun it up, away from the oncoming plasma bolt, but it was by no means slow. Her own X-50s flipped back, and applied frightening acceleration, rocketing her out of the way, but also out of the fight.

For a moment, she was terrified she'd be unable to get back into position to help McKnight, but that was soon invalidated. The III began to float up to fight her, his cannons already recharging. She had to get her own shot off, she couldn't just keep dodging, so that meant she couldn't use the 50s to dodge this shot. She had an idea, stupid maybe, but it was an idea. As the X-50s swapped from booster to cannon, and gathered energy, she watched as the enemy cannons fired. With a deep breath, she waited a half second before throwing the stick down. The Astelion jumped down, thrusters propelling it just fast enough. The blast was so close her shields sizzled from the pure heat of the backlash. That didn't matter now, however, because it was her turn. The X-50s were hot and ready, and discharged their twin balls of destruction at the III.

The III, however, was a MAS meant for the skilled, and this pilot appeared to be no exception. The pilot, bound by his MAS's slower speed, threw himself right. She watched as the left blast made contact...but of course, his shield was rated up to class III, and so sadly the Ferir still stood there. The Astelion still had the initiative for now, and now she was sure she had his capabilities on lock. He shouldn't be able to dodge if she made sure to keep him solidly in the middle of the 50's firing solution, so a dodge to either side would slam into a blast, since he shouldn't be fast enough to be able to evade.

She was wrong, and that quickly showed itself to her. Suddenly displaying the maneuverability the tesla drives were rated for, he deftly dodged the blasts and Ari mumbled "Shite. Didn't see that coming.." She changed reactor priorities quickly, less to her shield and more to her guns, which should give her guns the extra speed to hit him. By now, it was too late however, as her sensors read that his cannons were charged. She didn't even hesitate to abandon her current attempt at firing, just allowing the 50s to charge instead as she barreled right...but that shot wasn't aimed at her. She watched the blasts slam into the rear of McKnight's MAS, sending him flying away. "MCKNIGHT!" The unrestrained call parted her lips and tore out over the COM.

She felt helpless, watching the machine charge up to finish off McKnight. She had no way of knowing if her X-50s could blast the other MAS before his blasts got McKnight. She didn't have any time to think, to plan, to do anything. Suddenly, however, she felt something...unexpected. Anger, rage, pure protective anger over taking her as she watched. "How DARE this bastard try to kill McKnight? How DARE HE think he can hurt my team mate? WHO THE HELL SAID HE COULD HURT THEM ALL SO SOON AFTER LOSING A PILOT?" She found herself sending the Astelion flying forward with it's thrusters, and she fired.

The X-50s fired, while he was gathering energy, and she watched with satisfaction as the blasts raced forward. He was forced to abandon his attack on McKnight to dodge, but it wasn't fast enough. The right blast clipped him, and his shields were no longer powerful enough to stop them. The blast melted the right arm and shoulder, while Ari's cannons continued charging. He turned, his own weapons firing at her, but Ari was already moving, defying every pattern she'd done so far by dodging down. Now, this was generally in advisable, as down was the slowest direction for most MAS suits, since fewer thrusters were angled up. However, she was betting it all on a gambit, her life and McKnights. She dumped the power from her shields, all of it, into the thrusters and guns.

She watched as the blasts neared her and...skidded by just above her. Her armor heated, and she was warned of a temperature spike as she restored her reactor settings to what they'd been previously, but it was too late. She fired, again, and watched as the enemy again made to dodge, but this time she'd corrected more vigorously. The blast slammed into the chest of the enemy MAS, blowing it away, but not without a final "salute" from the pilot. Missiles skidded out towards her, and she was too focused to stop them before it was too late and she hammered the countermeasures. Most were diverted, one was not, and she'd pay the price.

Her shields held off part of the first blast, but the rest of it blew threw to the MAS itself. An explosion rocked the Astelion and warning lights went off, warning her that her hull was at 50% integrity. That didn't matter right now though, McKnight needed help and she had to get to him. The X-50s flipped back into boost, and she was sent rocketing forward. She pulled in near him and assumed a guard position, X-50s charging again, and said into the COM "McKnight, whats your status!?! Can you right yourself?! Do you need help!?"

The battle wasn't going great. McKnight knew better than to simply charge an elite Coalition MAS. No doubt he wanted to keep Ariana safe and shield her from having to engage a veteran. Then she noticed the warning for all of the 101st's ships to clear the line of fire of the wave motion gun, something Alexis would never do with the Lincoln still in proximity to the Ulysses unless she was desperate. The orders for two members of the 7th to escort some big shot's ship didn't make sense either.

"Rookie! Don't worry about McKnight and keep the Fenrir busy! I'll assist you once I've cleared up my own backyard." Maki yelled through the comms to make sure Ariana heard her. "You can't do anything else for him except keep the bastard off him." The 7th got the worst assignments because of their skill, which meant getting hit and taking damage was part and parcel of the job. Most of the time they lived through it, some times they didn't. The important thing was that the rest of the squad could not stop and afford a distraction when it happened. Distractions cost lives.

"Cap, if I don't think about where my head is going to be later, I won't have one." Maki replied to Alexis as she committed to her insane plan to mop the two Fenrirs. The Hellcat was stealthy and there was no way the Mark IIs would pick her up unless they used visual identification, and they were too busy trying to down the fighters to scan the horizon.

Tunnel vision will get you killed every single time.

She closed in on the first, drawing her energy sword again. By the time the Fenrir noticed her closing in on him, it was too late. At her speed and approach, there was no way he could have stopped her from bisecting the machine diagonally, from the Fenrir's "hip" to shoulder. Some ammunition or a power core must have detonated for an explosion rocked her Hellcat. Though the Fenrir did manage to swing his leg around to kick the Hellcat in the side. The impact was jarring and dented the hull, but did no real damage except piss Maki off. The concussion from the sound of the impact rang through her cockpit and gave her a jarring headache on top of ringing in her ears.

There was no time to stop though, and the Hellcat's autocannon was trained on the second Fenrir and opening fire.Maki had targeted center mass, but the explosion threw the Hellcat off. A round impacted one of the legs, where the thrusters were, and caused a small fireball as the jets leaked through the new holes her round opened up. A second shot managed to hit the Fenrir's gun arm, and it seemed to slow its movements down, though not by much. Maki definitely had the enemy's attention now.

Unfortunately, she hadn't even slowed the Hellcat at all during that maneuver, and the Fenrir was never going to be able to bring its gun to bear with a damaged leg and arm. Firing solutions worked themselves out and Maki pulled the trigger five more times, this time hitting the Fenrir's other two limbs and disabling them as well, while the fifth buried itself in the gun's magazine and detonated the ammunition. Reducing the Fenrir's firepower would by the fighters more time to escape if the enemy pilot decided that he would kill them instead if he couldn't get the Hellcat.

Maki opened fire again, this time aiming to kill. Firing at the Fenrir's back, it was easy to hit the thrusters and force the Fenrir immobile, traveling by inertia alone. That meant he couldn't dodge the Rapier Maki fired. She didn't even bother to stay around and confirm the kill. The guy was dead. The Fenrir had already stopped all functions she could see when she stopped firing her autocannon. The Rapier was just insurance. The Hellcat turned and moved to assist the Astelion, confirming the kill only from the sensors.

"Hunter has two more kills confirmed. Minor hull damage, all systems still operational." Maki reported, turning around and not bothering with a flank maneuver this time. She set a course straight for the Mark III to help Ariana. "Cap, I will be very cross if you tell me to guard some fat ass's ship so don't bother." She growled directly at Alexis, unhappy that their firepower was being diverted from actually pushing back the enemy to just babysitting some idiot admiral's ship. An idiot who had decided that bright colours in space was a good idea, and obviously thought his rank allowed him to just commandeer forces to protect his exposed ass.

She did a quick check on her current ammunition. Five Rapier missiles left. Sixty rounds in her autocannon. Enough to kill a Mark 3 if she was careful and Ariana did her job. Not enough keep fighting as an escort and useless information if she was going to sit on top of the admiral's ship.

Yuuyami sweeped her eyes over the view of the battle, every once in awhile firing a round from the Saviors at a Coalition MAS that strayed within a two second firing distance. That is to say, anywhere that it would take two full seconds for the currently loaded General-Purpose rounds would reach.

However, her gaze shifted over towards the corner, as she heard the orders that the Captain had given to herself and one other. Bringing up the image of the shuttle that the admiralty was planning to ride in, she flew straight into a carcass of a Fenrir in shock, the alloy shield combined with the energy shield knocking the twisted metal away. Utterly mortified by the flashy appearance of the shuttle, it was enough to cause a lapse in her usual stoic and efficient mood in battle. She couldn't help but to bring up the specifications of that particular shuttle.

"...specially coated for the extravagant polished appearance, while having the durability of a cardboard box. Thruster output is basic, with the specific hardware to allow emergency overclocked output utterly removed. Not even a low caliber rotary for point defense.......does the admiral live in a fantasy life where the universe revolves around him? He might as well tow a neon sign flashing 'I'm a VIP, come melt my face off! The shuttle isn't design to take hits so don't worry!' or the like...it's a waste of material, time, and crew..."

Most likely to the surprise of everyone listening, Yuuyami actually spoke aloud, and not only talk, but to actually insult someone, which was rare by itself, even out of battle. Of course, she was speaking from the viewpoint of an engineer, cringing at improper usage of equipment and transportation. Shaking her head, attempting to get rid of the obstructing thoughts, she continued to fly towards the shuttle, not even bothering to bring up the digital map, as it wasn't hard to confirm visual of the glaring shuttle amongst the darker hues of metal of space around it.

Looks like baby-sitting

Finally typing again, she sent the message to the Russian who was given the same order. Although just words on the screen, the annoyance behind it was evident, as she was still slightly fuming over the shuttle.

However, at Ariana's scream over the comms, Yuu couldn't help but to immediately stop. "Not another...please..." Muttering quietly to herself almost akin to a prayer, she turned to face the direction of McKnight and Ariana. Shifting her eyes back and forth, she deduced that the Fenrir Mk3 was the culprit. Immediately leveling the Calamity, she aimed slightly below the Coalition MAS. However, hearing Maki through the comms, she could only retract the artillery. Looks like she would have to leave it to the other Japanese to assist the rookie, and possibly avenge their comrade, if he fell.

Gritting her teeth, Yuu turned back around, before continuing her previous route towards the admiral's shuttle. However, unlike before, she couldn't help but to grip her controls tightly, her knuckles becoming white under the pressure.

As supporting fire flowed in, allowing Gerard a moment of respite, he cast the blackened, pockmarked husk of the Ferir aside, even as a sudden draft of force alerted him to his last target's fate. With a hiss of static, Alice's voice filtered through on a private channel, speaking his native tongue in a toneless, robot voice. In a rare lull of combat, Gerard stared towards his enemies as his finger depressed the communications button. Static filtered through into Alice's channel followed by a breath, but it closed after a few more seconds of silence broken only by static. He could not bring himself to say it to her. Lives...were not only spent in war. They were spent playing, learning...loving...that was what made them...human after all. Gritting his teeth, Delacroix thrust a lever forward, pelting the Marauder into action. No...he would never tell Alice his inner thoughts. She was imple in that everything was black and white to her, everything was clearly defined...just like a child in her innocence. He could not ruin that for her...

As he once more became a moving target, gunfire switched towards him, pelting him with slugs as his shield absorbed them. Being a medium model, he was not as maneouvrable as some of his teammates but he compensated for that with a shield and heavy armor plating. As fighters zoomed past him, peppering Ferirs with autocannon rounds and missiles, Delacroix closed in towards his target, the cruiser that was slowly moving into place. A particularly heavy round smashed through his shield and clattered off of his armour, leaving a blackened dent on his shoulderpad but the Frenchman ignored it as Sokolov moved to engage the offender. In a burst of smoke, a Ferir disappeared and Gerard could almost feel the uluations of victory from the pilots. He smiled. Let the pilots have their fun...but that disappeared a moment later as the Ferir appeared like a vengeful wraith, destroying two of the Naginatas, the last one pulling back. Holstering his axe on his back, Gerard pulled out his scattergun and pulled the shell chain tighter into the chamber as he closed. The wounded Ferir turned to try and take down the remaining fighter but instead received a much more painful payload. In a flash of light, searing white hot shards of iridium tore through his armour leaving scorched, melted holes in its blackened surface. A second later, his shock was increased tenfold as shards after shards peppered him, though after the first volley the pilot had already beed slain, sevel of the shard having seared straight through the cockpit. Searing hot iridium cooking off the remaining cores, the Ferir detonated into oily black smoke even as the Marauder burst through it. He would save lives where he could...but a UEE life was worth more than a Coalition's. "...Kill confirmed, Capitaine," he said sadly as he continued speeding through the wreckage, shoulder barging past the remains of the Ferir's upper half.

"Confirmed, moving to target," Gerard said in response to Gallant as he dived to avoid a macrocannon shell from the cruiser. "I will stay at range and provide artillery fire," Sokolov said to him through comms, the HUD showing him staying at extreme range of the cruiser, "Centurion is like flying fridge, not good at moving."
"Understood camarade," Delacroix replied, "Which means you will be my main support Alice." Even as they talked, Ferirs continued to move in to halt their forward progress. Rapidly pulling the trigger of his scattergun, Guillotine sent ineffective pellet rounds towards their attackers as they returned fire with their autocannons, stitching patterns of gunfire over his shield as he tried to shake their fire. A sudden voice brought his thought process screeching to a halt. "McKnight, whats your status!?! Can you right yourself?! Do you need help!?"
"What happened to Gallant!?" Gerard immediately cut in, his concentration broken by the thought of losing another longstanding member of the 7th. Almost immediately, he regretted it.

"TOVARISCH! EYES FORWARD!" Jolted back to reality by Solokov, he would have been thrown out of his seat if he weren't super securely strapped in, one of the belts ripping as Gerard's head snapped forwards. Despite the pain in his neck he looked up to see a Coalition Ferir's pilot staring at him through his armorcrys cockpit, his eyes wild as his own machine drew back an alloy combat knife. "Merde!" Gerard shouted audibly into comms as he acted on reaction, dropping his scattergun and pushing the arm aside, causing the blade to jam into the left armoured flank of the Marauder, the light armour plating giving way under the overclocked strength of the Ferir. With a silent screech of metal, Gerard saw sparks flying away as the pilot withrew the blade, bringing it in for another stab. Turning the chassis, Guillotine let the blade slide off of his right side as he removed his anti-capital charge and threw it vaguely towards his comrades. The two tumbled erratically through space as their thrusters pushed them in different directions. Both sides were afraid to shoot in case of hitting their own teammate but the two combattans were pitting servo against servo as they sought to outmuscle each other. In this case, the Ferir had the advantage since the Ravager was a mid-range poleaxe and it showed as the blade tried time and time again to sink into the cockpit, but every time Gerard foiled it through either superior piloting or deperate hand movements. His right hand tried to grasp hold of the Scattergun as it floated just out of reach, connected only by the thin belt of ammunition. Giving up only a second later as the knife blade deflected off of an armor plate, Gerard rolled with the Ferir, reaching back and grasping the ravager near the head. Drawing it off the maglock, he glared at the Coalition pilot as he made another stab. Quickly, Gerard interposed the Marauder's left arm between it and the cockpit and let the blade sink deep into the forearm, alarms and lights ringing even louder as damage accrued. With a twist, Gerard ripped the blade out of the Ferir's hand which made a desparate attempt to grab at the weapon again, leaving a large gash over the arm. Less than a split second later, he smashed the hooked end of the Ravager into the back of the Ferir and pulled, disabling its main thruster for a second and dragging it off in one fell swoop. Like a blooming flower, the hook emerged from within the machine and ripped a tangle of wires with it causing a flurry of sparks to emerge. in less than a second, the Marauder revered the head of the axe and smashed the blade downwards in an awkward but vicious arc, the plasma edge cutting straight through the Ferir like butter.

Righting himself as he retrieved his scattergun, Gerard was breathing heavily but remained on the move. "Guillotine. Kill confirmed. Some damage sustained," he keyed through the comms as he read through his own damage report. His left arm was less responsive than before and chassis turning speed was down but overall he was still within operational limit. Bursting upwards, he grasped the handle of the anti-capital charge and relocked it to his hip. There was no rest for the wicked. As the wave motion gun powered up, Gerard thrusted out of the way, joining Sokolov and Alice before Captain Marquis' message rang through his cockpit, Delacroix having disabled all the blaring lights and alarms. "Orders read and understood, Capitaine, moving to rendevous with Brick with Alice." True to his word, he began to move under the arc of the WMG behind Alice like a dog licking its light wounds.

"Looks like you get to carry this one too, Monsieur Shanks," Gerard said as he slapped the second anti-capital charge onto the Disposal's back, racking his Scattergun as he drifted into proximity.

Tom wondered sometimes if everyone else felt like this when they slotted into the catapult like bullets in a gun.

Did everyone else miss it like he did? When he watched his colorful companions trot about the ship he wondered sometimes if there really was just something wrong with him. They did everything with such energy, such passion--they lived, in a way that he wasn't sure he did. It was all just killing time, just padding along until the moment he was able to do...

Well. This.

The countdown hit zero and the sudden push of gravity was nothing compared to the rush in his veins. Tom lived for speed, for g-force and acceleration and threading the needle. As the burst out into the endless black sky, pinpricks of light and exhaust vents and rockets hurtling towards the enemy the Mosquito around him came to life, a dozen little microboosters and maneuverability vents flaring up like fireflies all across its narrow frame. Without the confines of the ship around it Tom was free to open up the Tesla drive, the flight pattern shifting ever so slightly to adjust with each motion, each limb, bringing it effortlessly into formation with the rest of the Seventh. The Mosquito lived up to its name--even compared to the Eagle, Shrike and Hellcat it was a nimble machine, fast as all hell, and if a slight bit of him wondered if he could outpace the Astelion it had never come up. Still, as enemies identified themselves and filled the sky he found his fingers itching to get moving. The Mosquito's best defense was a good offense, and he intended to use it.

As soon as the team broke, Tom was a streak of light in space, just another bullet whizzing about the battlefield. Occasionally during a sharp turn the streaks separated for a moment, a left maneuvering jet readjusting to send it spinning to a new angle even as another jet adjusted to compensate, turning on a dime to suddenly streak upwards above the action. It was small and easily forgotten in the rush of the bruisers, but that didn't mean it was ignored.

"Doobie-doo." He found himself whistling idly through his teeth as the Ferir broke away from the others and started an intercept run, angling upwards to try and follow after him. Tom would give it to the other pilot--a Ferir was a surprisingly maneuverable beast compared to most of the UEE mechs, their Tesla Drives a standard feature now, but it had nowhere near the Mosquito's speed and nowhere near its long range fire capacity. Already its computers were working on the solution, aligning accelerator with ionization channels. In space there was so little to create static, so little to disrupt the miniature targeting laser that lined everything up.

The Arbalest plasma cannon was the moral equivalent of an anti-tank rifle--it was meant to punch through, to obliterate exactly the kind of heavy armor the Coalition loved to stamp all over its Ferir Mk. II's. The trick, as with all such weapons, was precision. If you didn't put the hole through a vital target like a powercore or a cockpit then it wouldn't put an MAS down, and with only short range weapons to back it up it would hardly stand up to a Ferir's fire.

So he put the hole where it needed to be.

The flash was brilliant in the dark of space, a lightning bolt of crackling green plasma that punched straight through the Ferir's cockpit. It was the kind of trick that would only work once but only needed to--bait the enemy into a charge to rely on the armor to buy time for a weapon they could deal with it. He could imagine the chatter through the rest of the Ferir squad as they processed the sudden loss, readjusted their tactics, and with luck were trying to evaluate the sudden threat by the time his allies fell on them. As the unit itself shuddered without input it simply continued to sail through space, momentum carrying it off like a comet. If it didn't hit anything it would keep going, Tom knew, a skeleton adrift in the cold.

He wondered, on occasion, how many skeleton-mechs he'd scattered among the stars by now.

"Ferir down."

Much as he acknowledged the utility of informing his squadron of a successful kill, Tom Trent had tried throughout his career to place as little emphasis on individual kills as possible for the simple reason that he knew better. Already on the edge of what he considered to be an acceptable moral apathy, he knew full well that if he started caring how many soldiers he killed instead of how successfully he completed the mission it would be all over for him. Bloodlust was the only impermissible sin, the line he couldn't cross--it was small but it was there, that one last step between wanting to destroy an enemy as part of the mission and wanting to destroy an enemy for a notch on his belt.

But speaking of the mission...

At the new orders he was off in a flicker, his suit a neon zig-zag through the air outpacing a series of Hammer missiles fired from one of the Ferir's companions. Hardballers meant trouble for more than just their motley little crew. If a few of those plasma cannons punched through to the engines, the life support, the MAS bays, there wouldn't be a Lincoln to come back to.

Besides, Trent had a thing for its hotsy-totsy captain.

"Rodger, Odin. Ready for a hat trick, Rabbit?"

Even through his speakers he could hear the Asian girl's familiar groan. "You always do that! You always use the same jokes!" Her tinny voice whined even as he saw her accelerate towards one of the hardballers--from her position defending the Lincoln she was drawing its fire and its attention while Trent approached from the rear. "Learn some new material, some magician you are!"

"Magicians do parlor tricks, bunny. Me? I'm bonafide." Tom corrected with a quirk of a smile as his HUD blinked green on the Arbalest once more, the targeting system already locked firmly on Rabbit's hardballer. The only way the lighter mechs were going to punch through all that armor was with a united salvo and they both knew it--already her rotary cannon was flaring the shield at it's front as she dodged nimbly past its rockets and the massive blasts from its P170's. Trent and Lin made a good team, both high-speed precision workers in very different units. While Trent excelled in long range armaments and close quarters, Lin was solid and lethal anywhere from middle to close range. But the hardballer wasn't going anywhere with that shield and it's armor, and as it closed it began to look like the rotary cannon wasn't going to do the trick--that is, until lightning struck.

A Mark III shield was one of the few things that gave the Arbalest pause. Even under fire Lin's rotary cannon it still had enough hudspah to ride out the storm, flashing and crackling green as it diverted the forked blast and dispersed it across its systems. But this wasn't their first rodeo, and between the two of them it buckled and slug began to punch away at the thick of its armor instead. Still, it showed absolutely no hesitation in surging forward, firing off another pair of energy blasts that had Lin surging down to avoid them. It roared past her, all inertia and heavy thrusters as it kept its focus where it had been all along--the Lincoln.

"Come on, Rabbit, show me a hole...anywhere'll do..." Trent muttered in a focused monotone, left side rockets flaring to slip past a hammer missile that thought it could touch something as fast as the Mosquito. He was coming in too fast, he was going to pass it and be ready to fire before she managed to crack open that hard damn chest of its. He could see her blasting full speed in reverse, trying to keep level with it as her steady stream of fire left shrapnel and particles in its wake. Another pair of blasts had her scrambling to the side, rocking a barrel roll in midair to keep her firing solutions.

"We're getting too close, Rabbit--"

"I know!"

"I'm not going to have time to pull--"

"I know!"

If he hit the Lincoln's shields that would be it--no way the Mosquito's little Targe could hold a candle to those big capital bad boys. But his voice was even, his hands steady, his lips curled in the biggest shit-eating grin you'd ever seen. This was the kind of shit he lived for.

"Two...One..."

"Got it!" She gasped, breathless and hurried as she spiraled down and out to get out of the way. "Got it, got it, left side torso, straight shot to the core!"

"You're a peach."

In the same instant he blazed past the hardballer at full throttle, a screaming streak that rolled, flipped its thrusters back, took aim--

Lightning. Clean through the heart, dead a shot as a hunter could ask. It was all fire and forget though, no time to celebrate as the hardballer's core started to go critical--while the Lincoln's shields could take the debris, the Mosquito's really, really couldn't, let alone what would happen if it was pancaked between the two. The kind of G-force that he pulled to get out of there was enough to make even his head spin. He could hear the alarms ringing in her ears as the back of his shield brushed against the Lincoln's, draining the power until a slight adjustment brought him far enough away--

"Wizard!"

The cry woke up up for the reverie--apparently the third hardballer hadn't been dealt with yet, the beast of a machine barreling through after Trapp's hatchet trick spun out the second. Omega was on its tail, its shield was brought down, but as it turned to focus on the carrier it found instead a juicy little Mosquito in its path.

Missiles might have been easy to dodge, but at this range the P170's were not. Two flowers of green blossomed in front of it, one after the other, the hardballer earning its name. If he'd thought about it at all he'd have been a crispy critter, but Tom had long ago learned to move without thinking. He was a pilot in a machine that could literally respond to flicks of his fingertips, and that was all that saved him as he opened up the throttle straight down beneath the blasts. He shot out of the way like a bullet but didn't account for the splash as the plasma ballooned on the capital shields, swelling before dispersal and racing after him fast enough to blow past his shield. It would never have stopped a blow and barely was strong enough to withstand this, but he was just out of range by the time the green plasma receded to the ship itself.

"Shield's down, systems green." He chimed in, cool as a cucumber but for the grin on his thin lips. "One hardballer remaining. Omega, you got it?"

"Negative, Wizard, while you were busy cheating the reaper new orders came in. Clean it up and meet up on Rally Point Alpha, we're escorting his Highness to the ball."

Astelion's distaste was obvious enough, through Tom ignored it as always. Orders were orders, nothing to sneer at regardless of how fucking stupid they might be.

"A little help here, boys!" Lin snapped over the comm, already engaging the final hardballer as it skated along the shield, moving to flip for another pass. About as maneuverable as a refrigerator, it was too close to risk its plasma cannons and the angle was wrong for its missiles, but that wouldn't hold true for long if they didn't do something about it.

"I need a clean shot, Rabbit."

"Negative, Wizard, I repeat, Negative!" Lin was saying as she chased ahead of it, serpentining her way past one missile after another. With margin of errors so slim it was a wonder the girl held it together when he put her through shit like this--Tom only did because he liked it that way.

"Then I'm coming to you. Hang pretty, Lin, be there in a heartbeat..." He muttered, taking aim and firing all thrusters. Physics was an odd thing in the void--some of it applied, some of it didn't, but Sir Isaac Newton had been the deadliest motherfucker in space for an awful long time and that wasn't about to change now. Objects in motion, and all that...

The benefit if the Talwar was its asymmetric field. Weaker on one side, it lit up into a crescent of plasma like the sabers of old and worked on the same principle--put an awful lot of momentum along a thin, curved edge and watch multiplication happen. And a Tesla drive and all the experimental energy his personal nuke could pull off, even a bitty Mosquito could hit skin a 'baller with enough speed worked up.

"Are its shields--"

"It's fucking shields are down, Wizard, pull the damn trigger!"

"Your wish, darlin'." He managed as the distance between them vanished and he screamed past the heavy mech at breakneck speeds, the plasma blade angled to shear through the weakened joint at the arm in the kind of spinning-slice that made boot-camp boys weak at the knees. He careened past it and only briefly cared as he heard Lin call in the kill, pumping rotary rounds through the opening in the armor until it faltered and detonated along the shield.

"Way to take your time..." She muttered into her comm, righting herself before streaking for the Cadillac of shuttles they were supposed to keep safe. "I thought that thing was supposed to be fast..."

"Sticks and stones." He chuckled, taking aim on the one Trapp had left adrift. It was probably out of commision with some whiplash like that, but a little red light confirming the firing solution on his HUD told him to make sure.

"Wizard, reporting in. Hardballers neutralized, rendezvousing with the escort crew. Let's bring in an Admiral."

Lightning struck the drifting Coalition unit, a steak of orange already on its way.

> C-MAD - Tigeres Team - Ferir Mk III
> LCDR. Roberto 'Tiger' Tigeres

> Brent Status:UNRESPONSIVE
> Loch Status:UNRESPONSIVE

> Running System Diagnosis_

> Structural Integrity: 40%

WARNING! HULL BREACH!

> Reactor Unit: FUNCTIONING 45%
> Shield Unit: OFFLINE_
> Targeting AI: OFFLINE_
> Weapon Systems:

> Havoc Missiles: OFFLINE_
> S40 PDW: ONLINE_
> P110: OFFLINE_
> Energy Saber: ONLINE_

> Tesla Drive: FUNCTIONING 30%

WARNING! CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE!
RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: ABORT

Tigeres spat blood, globules of the red liquid floating around the inside of his helmet. The warped and melted display screens in his cockpit flickered and sparked as static continually washed over them. He glared at the UEE MAS's down through the wide gash in his cockpit, the edges melted from plasma heat. His communications were down. His team was dead, Loch, Brent, both gone. His suit integrity was nonexistent, and his oxygen mask had a breach. He was a dead man already, living on borrowed time. Tigeres leaned back into his seat, and reconciled himself with the idea that his imminent death was coming. Taking a deep breath, he sat forward in his seat and grabbed at his controls. He was a doomed man. But he'd be damned if he didn't take down a couple of inferior UEE pilots while he was at it.

The Ferir Mk III whined, but it eventually groaned back to life. With halting motions, its hand released its inert plasma cannon, the weapon drifting away as the Ferir mechanically drew its plasma saber. The blade flared to life and the MAS's reactor immediately began complaining, but Tigeres gave it no heed. Triggering his tesla drive, he propelled himself forward as fast as his machine would allow. Despite its damages, the Ferir Mk III managed to attain surprising speed as it initiated a kamikaze charge at the distracted Sparrow.

---

Sterling shook himself back into awareness as he adjusted to his surroundings, the incessant blare of his depleted shield system fading into the background of his mind. Most of his systems, had miraculously, survived the plasma blast, which had only wrecked his shield and right-tesla drive coil. A quick look at his system diagnosis informed him that his shield unit had been destroyed- more specifically melted, and would have to be replaced upon returning to the Lincoln. The feeling left him slightly vulnerable, he no longer had an energy wall to protect his unit against the energy wash of stay plasma bolts, or stray autocannon rounds and debris. "This is Gallant. McKnight reported, his voice tense, the blare of alarms still audible behind his voice. "My shield system is slagged. Tesla drive functioning at 50%."

There was an audible pause. "Continuing mission."

With such a massive Coalition force in the immediate area, the 7th were hardly in the position to retreat from battle. Any loss of combat power lessened the chances of the Lincoln breaking past the Coalition cruiser, and lessened the chances of the rest of the fleet's survival.

A warning appeared on his flashing viewscreen and his camera zoomed in on an oncoming object. The Mk III was still alive and kicking- and was charging right at himself and the rookie- whose back was turned to him. "Williams! About face!" McKnight screamed into the comm, as a volley of low caliber machine gun rounds bounced flew past them, several bouncing ineffectively off of the Astelion's shields, a couple pinging off the Shrike's armor. It was an admittedly oddly worded order, but such facing movements were so deeply ingrained in military men, McKnight hoped that the sudden command to 180-turn would click automatically in her mind. At the same time, McKnight boosted his machine forward, his unit veering slightly right as he tried to compensate for his blown tesla coil. Plasma blade readied, McKnight countered the Mk III's suicidal charge with one of his own, machinegun rounds ricocheting off of his Shrike as he did.

The Ferir Mk III was forced to take the bait, changing targets to McKnight as it counterswung its blade to block McKnight's plasma blade. McKnight continued past the Ferir, and the Ferir turned to continue facing McKnight, unwilling to allow a plasma blade into its back. Forcing the Mk III to keep its attention on McKnight, Sterling continued to boost away, his Shrike loosing another pair of broadsword missiles against the Ferir. The Ferir began to boost sluggishly away, its point defense system rapidly firing at the oncoming explosives. "Williams! Finish it!" Sterling called into the comms.

“Odin, once you and your team have dealt with the hardballers, withdraw and stand by on reserve as well."

”You know Captain, a please once in a while could do wonders on troop morale.” Odin mused more to himself than anything else. His casual joking manner was not some sort of insubordination, more to keep his attention off the battle preventing him from getting lost within it. He did not even have to order the command as the rest of the intercept team were already moving out into position. Wizard and the rest had dealt with the rest of the hardballers with an efficiency that he expected from a pilot of the quality of Trent. No good jobs were needed, Trent already knew he was one of the best pilots in all the 101st he didn't need Trapp to confirm it for him. They moved into support positions quickly heading to rendezvous with the shuttle.

As they did a warning flashed across his screen as the Lincoln prepared to fire. He managed to afford a glance to his side to see the thing fire. For one moment in time the black void of space lit up in a beautiful display of energy and death. While the Coalition excelled in MAS outpacing them at every step, the UEE was still knew how to make bigger and badder warships. The naval engineers had a joke that they designed the guns first and built the ships around them. As the concentrated ball of plasma hit home and the Coalition aggressor was destroyed Trapp could only let out a low whistle of admiration. He drew his eyes forward again as they pulled into defensive positions and started to lay down covering fire for the Admiral’s ship. Normally he would have disagreed with helping out a man that was just so obviously asking for it, but the Admiral was part of the Imperial family as it where. Soldiers that failed to protect the Emperor's kin risked enraging the man himself and when the Emperor got mad people had an overt tendency to vanish mysteriously.

”Alright seventh you know what to do. Hatchet, Echo I want you so close to that damn shuttle you can smell the Admiral’s imperial privilege. And Echo, weapons free on the Calamity give em hell. Everybody else fan out into a protective perimeter, not a single shot gets through!” Trapp called out as he pulled the Sentry up to the front edge of the forming perimeter and started opening fire. Hatchet and Echo could handle the Ferirs coming in and with the others in close proximity they could move in to help if needed. Targets started to ping on his console and looking outwards he saw dozens of little red lines hurling towards them. The Cruiser had just launched a missile barrage at the Lincoln and it seemed that the majority of the 7th and the Admiral were caught in the middle of the firing solution. He would have called for evasive maneuvers but the damn shuttle would of been too slow to move out of the way. All he could do was let out a curse under his breath before he bellowed over the Comms.

”Omega on me! Missile Intercept procedure in two!” Astelion pulled up to him with a affirmative and the two began to unload their heavy guns on the incoming volley. Trapp’s hands moved in a frenzy as he punched in a series of commands and moments later the Micro Missile Launcher fired all six shots out, the six became twenty four little carriers of death. Explosions rocketed across the sky as his own missile volley slammed into the oncoming offenders. Astelion was dealing with his own problems swimmingly as his autocannon and machine gun blared through space. Explosion after explosion came but he was not sure how much more of the volley they could handle. Then Astelion’s gruff voice came over the comms.

”Odin! Left!” Trapp turned just in time to see a missile streaking by heading on a collision course with the shuttle. Trapp let out a curse and floored the accelerator and the sentry chased after the missile. Now he couldn't fire off at the damn thing without risking hitting the shuttle ahead of it and so there was one option left. Trapp didn't like it, he never liked anything that relied too heavily on luck but it was either that or the Admiral died. He let out a single in his native tongue sounding something like scheiße before he acted. He cut ahead of the missile and drew his MAS in tightly in a bracing position. For the outside observer what happened next would seem to be moving in slow motion, the heavy missile came to abrupt halt against the Sentry and moments later there was a flash.

Trapp heard the sudden whoosh as his shields collapsed and then it all went black as the alarm rang out in his cockpit....

Status.....
Armor Integrity: 38%
Warning Cockpit breach detected
Reactor: 70%.... 69%....68%
Shield System: Rebooting
Main Thrusters: Disabled
Pilot Status: .......... Alive.

Trapp was jostled awake as the Sentry smashed into some debris. His console flickered and stuttered as it came back online and bathed the cockpit in gentle light. The first thing he noticed was that his emergency oxygen overtake had switched on, which told him that the cockpit had been breached by the explosion. Looking he saw that the heavy reinforced faux glass/transparant alloy had a hole in the middle of it. Next he noticed the pain mostly coming from his side. Looking down he saw that a shard of said clear substance had embedded itself into his lower abdomen puncturing his flight suit, along with many smaller pieces having cut up the outer protective layer. In short he was bleeding and he wouldn't be able to eject without risk of death. The mask failsafe had saved him from the decompression but he was nowhere out of the woods yet. He took a slow breath to stop his shaking hands before setting to work to at least stabilize the Sentry.

First he moved his right arm upward and found the large emergency switch and flipped it, his abdomen screaming in pain as he reached up. There was a clunk as out in front of him right behind the punctured plating a thin line of metal plating slide out and locked into place. Sentry pilots for the most part tried there best not to use the emergency sealing plate because it blocked vision and forced the pilot to fly either by just the console or through the head mounted helmet camera. As the cockpit was made airtight again, his oxygen mask clicked back from emergency position as it sensed that things leveled out. Next he had to address his currently failing reactor that was slowly dropping now at 58%, he made a quick series of commands into his stuttering console. He was directing coolant out of other major systems such as propulsion and weapons to at least appease the damage device for awhile yet. While it was the equivalent of strapping duct tape on the thing and hoping for it to hold it would at least prevent him from blowing up. The only downside being he had to be very careful to not overheat any of his other systems not running at reduced capacity. Next he had to deal with the whole transparent alloy embedded in his flesh. He reached under his seat and pulled out the standard issue med-kit that was provided for all pilots. He took out a small cylindrical syringe filled with biogel. What he did next would make any trained medical professional cringe. Using his free hand he grabbed the shard hard and ripped it out of his body, while it did more damage coming out, he needed the pathway to be unobstructed for the gel to be applied. He grinded his teeth together in pain as the shard pulled out and before he pass out he slammed the needle into the wound. The smart, expanding, self-sealing antibacterial gel was made to temporarily seal wounds until proper medical attention can be administered, primarily in use by the 101st Special Forces Legion, it still found its uses in the mobile armor division as well. He breathed out in relief as the gel dulled the pain. It would keep him functional at least to the end of combat. Than the Lincoln’s medical crew would have to patch him up fully.

Trapp flipped one final switch and with it he activated the head mounted camera on the Sentry. Coming out of its small concealed port it stuttered to life and a display of the outside world came into view. For a moment all Trapp did was look out in awe at the wondrous display in front of him. Plasma lighting up the void as each shot was cast into the void. It would take more than some damn missile to keep him from witnessing something like that. Finally his comms and shields slowly came to life as power began to pump back through the Sentry. The first thing he heard was a dry and unamused voice calling out to him.

“Yo Odin, you dead yet?”

“Only in your dreams Astelion.” Trapp called back a smile on his face as the Sentry came back to life. A solid hit could rip through the Sentry which was already in bad shape as it was, he was going to have to play it safe. He spoke again was calmly as possible sending out a status report. “This is Odin. Structural integrity is damaged, main thrusters are blown and I’m switching to reserves. I would not recommend getting into close combat with the MAS at this moment but she won't blow up yet. Moving back into reserve position, let’s make sure that damn shuttle gets back.”

Ari watched, with a sigh of relief, as the Shrike again ground into motion and McKnight's voice came over the COM. She could hardly bear the thought of her wing mate dying in her first engagement, especially McKnight who'd stood up for her against Eric. The depth of relief she felt at the realization of his survival was far deeper than was, in all honesty, probably healthy. She then set about checking over the Astelion's systems and grimaced at the reports in front of her. Shields were down completely, the blast had damaged the generator, thrusters could only function at 70% efficiency, which could be a death sentence for a speed based mech, and that wasn't mentioning the many fragments of her armor now floating around space.

With the sudden call for an about face, Ari didn't hesitate to spin the Astelion around in a proper one hundred eighty degree turn. Charging forward, she found the remains of the III, plasma blade drawn. Even as McKnight darted over to fight, she looked over to the targetting console to begin acquiring a firing solution...and promptly felt her hopes and dreams shattering. Displayed on the console in big, bold, red letters were the words "TARGETING AI OFFLINE". Without the AI, she couldn't get a solution, but McKnight was still in combat, and may not win without help. Ari began to panic, but an idea came to her, no matter how hair-brained it was.

She flipped the targetting systems to manual and watched a series of calculators and sensor windows displaying measurements pop up. She began rapidly punching in numbers, taking into account drift, enemy position, the lack of gravity and other such factors. She sweated from nervousness as her fingers danced across the keys, numbers and calculations being done at a frantically rushed speed. If it weren't for her engineering degree, she would've just done the emergency reboot, but that took 5 minutes, and McKnight may not have that long. As she finished typing, she watched the completed firing solution plug into the targetting computer. With the solution provided, she began the reboot of the targetting AI, routed through the backup cores, and immediately centered her sights on the position provide by the solution.

As the enemy MAS sluggishly boosted away, the X-50s heated up and prepared to fire. Thankfully, she'd kept the cannons at full charge while standing guard over McKnight. The X-50s finished heating and, with a prayer to any deity that was listening, she fired. She watched nervously as the shots raced out, and hoped against hope that they'd hit. Her calculations had been rushed, and had been done on possibly malfunctioning hardware, so she had no way of knowing if they were accurate. She watched and held her breath as the plasma grew closer and closer to the enemy's predicted position.

Sure enough, the left shot missed the target...but the right made contact. The enemy MAS turned to slag, and she watched as the shattered vessel was sent flying away. She breathed a sigh of relief at this, glad to have saved McKnight from what may've been his fate. She looked over at the slowly resetting targetting AI and sighed, hoping she wouldn't be plagued by such failures in the future. Though, this at least taught her not to depend on having the targetting AI. As this situation had so eloquently proved, she couldn't depend on it always being around. However, for now she should probably at least take a moment to speak on her COM. She reached over, gently keyed it, and said calmly "Hostile down. The Astelion took a beating, thrusters damaged and shields are down, targetting AI shorted out and I'm running a bypass now. Still combat effective." With that, she turned to fly back out into combat, unwilling to allow her teammates and fellow UEE pilots to bear the entirety of the burden of this combat simply because she'd taken some battle damage to an enemy missile. After all, the 7th MAS received the most vital missions, she couldn't just chicken out!

"I've got a question for the two of you," Wes said over the comms as he finished strapping the additional payload to his MAS, grinning all the while. "Does it still only count as one kill when these babies go bang?" According to his systems, his shields were down to eighty percent, he had full missiles, and seventy-five percent ammunition for the GAW. Just enough to get the job done. "I've got a plan. Don't give me that look."

She had led the others back to Brick and as they exchanged the second charge to Disposal, he attempted a joking question, but Alice wasn’t really having it at the moment. She gave a frustrated, flanging huff as a response. She was growing impatient, and really needed to let off this steam. When Brick suggested he had a plan, she wasn’t able to communicate her reaction through facial expression, but she felt the tilt of the Eagle’s was enough to show her dubiety.

“What’s your plan, Brick?”

"My plan?" Wes asked, having noticed her frustrated demeanor. "My plan is for you to calm down and listen closely, robot. The others can handle themselves, they're not little kids." He waved his MAS' hand as they found themselves a brief lull in the storm to talk after the big show of colorful lights and explosions that had been the Wave Motion Gun.

"Those Coalition assholes are staggered right now, they'll be too busy regrouping after getting their asses handed to them by the WMG. My plan is to bumrush the hell out of them. They probably won't be expecting a frontal assault. All three of us fly at full speed towards their hangar, I'll launch all of my missiles and blow it open, throw the goods inside, and we get the hell out of there and celebrate back onboard Abraham. Sound good?"

"Or we could do this the proper way," Gerard said as he yanked the alloy knife out of his arm, "and cut our way into their reactors." Slowly flexing his fingers, the Frenchman clicked his tongue. Movement was down to 60% in his left arm thanks to a damaged servo but the majority of his systems were functioning sufficiently. Sparks occasionally flew from the gaping hole in his flank but that was more superficial than anything else. Drawing his scattergun and checking the belt through his HUD, He nodded invisibly. "I still have 76 shells left so I am ready for anything you choose," he said before he nudged the bombs on Shanks' back with the barrel, "but you get the final say bomb boy. Do you want to do this properly? Or do you want to cut corners?"

As Gerard offered his own plan to counter Wes’s, Alice only twiddled the Eagle’s fingers impatiently. She itched to go back to fighting, but Gerard’s plan was more methodical and likely to yield a more thorough destruction of the Coalition ships. “I concur with Gerard…”, she managed to mutter while the Eagle’s hands clutched her rifle. Whoever’s plan Wes decided on, at least she’d have the opportunity to personally terminate more Coalition soldiers. She still hadn’t used her short range ammo yet and her wrist shotguns were at full capacity. Perfect, since she likely wouldn’t be keeping her distance soon.

"We don't need to be thorough. We've got two bombs. That's double the explosion, right? If one's enough to bust that bunker, two'll be enough to blow it skyhigh, right?" He let out a shrug, physically letting his MAS imitate the gesture. "Whatever. Fuck it, charge!" Wes cried, setting his thrusters to maximum and leaving the two in the dust. Disposal's GAW silently screamed as it rotated, spitting out lead towards the remaining Coalition forces as Wes charged. Three dumbfire missiles from the ERB were also fired, set to explode on proximity to the enemy.

"I think you need to clean the wax out of your ears, Shanks," Gerard said as he fiddled with his controls, tossing the alloy knife aside, "good Capitaine Marquis requested that we hold onto a capital charge for an incoming cruiser that was coming to flank us." Assessing his damage reports, he licked his lips. He could really go for a drink right now, "You would not want to disappoint the capitaine, non?" he said half-jokingly. Shanks had had bad run ins with the captain...very bad run-ins.

"Just shut up and cha-" Wes cried as he was suddenly interupted by a blur of white as Eagle flew into combat, a hell of a lot faster than his own Disposal.

Almost instantly, the Eagle recklessly soared past Brick and his Disposal, the light MAS an undoubtedly a faster machine. The incoming Coalition were brutally intercepted as Alice slammed her Scorpion’s bayonette into the closest MAS and fired point blank into the cockpit, blasting a hole right through it. She continued using the wreckage as a shield while ignoring that the Ferir’s sustained fire had already broken through her shields and was starting to damage her. After taking down the first one, they had already managed to disable one of her missile launchers, but that wasn’t stopping her.

The three missiles ERB missiles soon arrived after Eagle's charge, impacting with the enemy. One of them was a complete miss, the other only glanced one of the six, now five enemy MAS. The last missile, while danger close to Alice, was a direct hit, slamming into the body of the lone Mk. III Ferir. Its shields flickered after taking the brunt of the explosion. "Heel, Alice! We need to take out that squad leader!"

The last to charge headlong into combat, Gerard scratched his head. "At least finalise the plan..." he muttered to himself in the cockpit as he readjusted his posture. At a more leisurely place he sped after Disposal and Eagle, weaving through the proliferation of macroshells, missiles and bullets. Watching Alice viciously tear into one of the Ferirs, Gerard swore under his breath. He didn't know what the hell those engineers programmed into her but they had to tone it down.This sort of brutality was not worthy of a human...then again, she was an AI. "For once Brick is right, madamoiselle," he said as he fired a few shotgun rounds towards the enemy, "you need to ease up on the aggression." He was ignored. "Merde..." he muttered as Alice's MAS continued to rack up damage. Slowly raising his damaged left arm, he aimed his grapple and fired. At the Eagle. With a hiss and a bang, he attached the electromagnet to her and dragged her down out of the path of fire, barely saving her from an incoming barrage. "Keep your head about you, Alice," he said into comms as h"Wes, got anything to cause a distraction apart from the trash in your cockpit?"e detatched the magnet before speeding off.

"Ah..." Wes said over the comms as he looked around, his GAW now firing on the Mk. III. The shields on it were nearing the breaking point. "Oh, shit! I've got a winning cup ramen! Ten thousand credi-" A Havoc missile suddenly impacted with Wes' shields, shaking his craft but not breaking through. "I don't think they'll fall for it," he said as he surged his MAS forwards, facing the Ferir head on. Its energy saber suddenly flicked to life as it was brought out.

"That will do nicely," Gerard replied as he interposed his axe between the Ferir and Disposal, blocking the energy saber's downward progress. Planting a foot into the MAS's chasiss, he surged forwards. "Come on you little merde, let us dance."

Alice growled as she was reigned back from the battle and tried in vain to pull herself free from Gerard’s magnet. Her flanging, distorted growl echoed “Don’t treat me like a dog!”. As soon as she was freed, she blasted off back into the fray. But Wes was correct, the Mk. III had become a priority. After obliterating another Ferir into scrap, she flitted back to the squad leader. Their shields were down, giving Alice the perfect opportunity for a barrage of kinetic-plasma rounds, fronted by a missile from her one functional launcher, before darting back to the tw remaining Ferirs for their termination.

The two fighters flitted back and forth as they exchanged blows in a shower of sparks. Plasma edges clashed and scraped as Gerard met each swing of the saber with either the reinforced shaft of his axe or the glowing head. Both were receiving the occassional scrape as they dueled, as was inevitable though the majority of the damage was deflected by the shields. The Ferir was missing a few panels in its right flank, revealing internal framing and circuitry while Gerard was sporting several large gashes in his chassis. Catching the blade of the saber on the top of his axe, Gerard swing inwards with his right arm, sending the shaft into the side of the cockpit and staggering the enemy MAS's pilot through its shield. Following through with the blow, Gerard reversed the swing and smashed straight through the shield in a shower of sparks and scored a direct hit across the hull. "You were a worthy opponent," he said respectfully as he raised his axe high. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a white figure. His eyes widened. In a burst of fire, the Ferir III shuddered as plasma rounds slammed through its back, expending themselves against his own shield. Mere seconds later a missile impaced on its rear and detonated its core, sending debris and powerful force smashing into the Frenchman who struggled with his controls as he rolled through space. "Alice! Watch your fire!" he shouted through public comms as he righted himself, his own head still spinning. Giving a cursory glance to his stats, he saw that his shield was now dangerously low and shards of debris dotted his Marauder's surface. He made it a point to question Alice later about her reckless behaviour. He had never had to work in concert with her much before but this was just reckless...not to mention unnecessarily cruel and merciless.

Wes on the other hand had his hands full of steel as one of the other MAS moved into melee with him. He had been caught off guard by Gerard's duel stealing habits, and in the mean time had the front of his GAW sliced off by an alloy knife. The weapon could still fire, yeah, but he didn't want to risk his right arm blowing the fuck up. Pneumatic air spewed into space as he triggered the detachment program, the clamps and hoses that normally encased his arm now flew away, and he barely even caught the GAW itself.

"This is Brick, main weapon disabled, still functional," Wes called to his team as he sidestepped a two handed stab by the Ferir. His right fist smashed into the MAS' face, crunching through alloys and components but only dealing minor damage. Another right jab, this time punting in its chest. The alloy knife slashed back in response, but Wes blocked it with his forearm, the shield taking the impact. His left arm grabbed ahold of the other MAS' arm. Wes firmly planted his legs on the enemy MAS' chest and began to pull. It would've been a lot cooler had they been on the ground. Without sound, it was only just a visual thing. Either way, the Ferir's fist pounded on Disposal's body, but he refused to give until finally the entire thing ripped off. Wes then beat the Ferir over the head with its own arm.

As she raced to the last two Ferirs, she took a moment to look back at her team mates. Gerard’s shields were diminished and his machine was dotted with shrapnel, clearly damaged from the destruction of the Mk. III. Her anger began to subside and she took a few moments to think. Her recklessness had not only brought damage to her own MAS, but had brought harm to her friend. Her anger was replaced with embarrassment, and she turned around, carefully going back to Gerard. The movements of her machine had become deliberate again. As if a light suddenly returned to her personality, along with her characteristic flange, she gently asked, perhaps with a hint of hesitation

“Are you alright, Mr. Delacroix?”

"Oh, no 'are you alright' for Wes, eh?" Wes called as he went after the last two enemy MAS, expending two of his air to air missiles while engaging in close combat with the other one. Almost immediately Wes let out a grunt as the Ferir's alloy knife broke through his shield, cutting deep into the guts of Disposal. Warning signals flared, but he ignored them as he slammed his fist in kind.

"A little bit banged up, but I still live," Gerard replied as he started to go over his diagnostics. His right arm was essentially gone by now, several shards of shrapnel having pierced the carapace at close range and overall power supply was down along with the shield. "You must learn to control yourself, Alice, or you will really get yourself hurt," he said to her through a private comm. As Wes's dialogue played through his cockpit, he couldn't help but raise his lips in a tight smile. "You have so many scars on that body of yours that I'm sure a few more won't matter."

Alice began flying towards the last Ferir. She wasted no time in slamming her fist into it’s head, shooting her wrist shotgun into it’s eyes. With it’s optics disabled, she grabbed it’s arms, crushing them under the Eagle’s fingers, and pulled it closer to her. Pressing the barrel of her working missile launcher against it’s cockpit, she fired her last shot, and the machine was quickly destroyed in a flash of bright light. With the last Ferir destroyed, she raced back with Gerard and Wes to the Coalition cruiser.

A huff was heard over the comms as Wes drove the fist straight into the midsection of the Ferir he was engaging. Clenching said fist, he pulled back, bringing a plethora of important bits and wires that obviously meant major damage. The Ferir began jerking rapidly, servos struggling to maintain order before Wes put an end to it, headbutting the Ferir and destroying its optics. [/color][color=662d91]"I suppose that doesn't matter. Another purple heart will just mean a bump in paycheck! Plus, I get to lounge around in medical while you all work."

“My apologies Mr. Delacroix…”, Alice asked before turning to Shanks. While her current body still lacked a mouth, she needed not a smile as she reloaded her weapons.

“Yes, Mr. Shanks. Let yourself be War’s canvas, that she may paint the horror and beauty of her destruction!”

"Please, knowing Capitaine Marqis and Trapp, you'd be back on your arse in a day," Gerard shot back as he started forwards, "Now lets cut our way to the reactor, shall we? Alice, I'll leave the last one to you." With that, Gerard sped towards the cruiser, staying just below the firing arc of its turrets. Taking adeep breath, he started to swing his axe into the hull, leaving glowing red streaks along it and creating deep gouges. Creating a large red X in its first armor plating, he stood aside. "Wes, if you please?"

"Ah, the marvels of modern medicine," Wes contemplated aloud over his comms, following right behind Gerard. Standing on the deck in a low hunchover, Wes put both of his fists together, raising them over his head as the pistons worked their asses, pressure building before bringing them back down with a crash, smashing through the plating with a resounding crash of vibrations through the hull.

It was then Wes remembered the concept of depressurization. The oxygen inside the cruiser had to go someplace, and it went there fast. Wes' Disposal rocked upwards as the four pieces went flying, crumpled and bent from the destructive force of Wes' fists. Disposal spun in a circle for a few moments while Wes gagged, feeling sick as retro thrusters fixed his path. "Huh. I forgot that was a thing. Physics and shit," Wes said as he remembered back to those science classes he spent dozing off.

Giggling softly at her own hamminess, Alice began flying towards the last Ferir. She wasted no time in slamming her fist into it’s head, shooting her wrist shotgun into it’s eyes. With it’s optics disabled, she grabbed it’s arms, crushing them under the Eagle’s fingers, and pulled it closer to her. Pressing the barrel of her working missile launcher against it’s cockpit, she fired her last shot, and the machine was quickly destroyed in a flash of bright light. With the last Ferir destroyed, she raced back with Gerard and Wes to the Coalition cruiser.

Alice watched patiently as the two began chopping and slamming their way through the hull, until a rush of pressurized air was expelled from the opening. It sent Wes spinning towards her, and according to her calculations concerning his speed and spin, she would have collided with the charge had she not moved out of the way in time. Then their mission, as well as their lives, would have been cut short.

“Be careful, Mr. Shanks. The target is the cruiser, not me. Besides, learning is fun!”

"It probably would be fun if his brain were not the size of those flavour sachets of the ramen he is so fond of," Gerard ribbed as he climbed into the new opening, entering a world as dark as the space outside. Opening his searchlight, Gerard started in towards the secondary hull beyond the bulkhead. "If I remember correctly...the reactor should be somewhere towards the rear of the ship..." he muttered to himself as he felt along the thick metal plating of the inner hull. Scraping his fingers across the hull, Gerard nodded inside his cockpit before reeling his remaining working arm back and slamming the axe hard into the wall, leaving a large dent and a glowing, cherry red mark from the plasma head. "You have your target, Wes, have at it," he said into comms.

"Gimme a moment, pneumatic pressure has to build back up. I've been throwing punches like crazy lately," Wes said as he followed suit, raising one arm to punch as the system built back up. After a few seconds, the fist cracked like a gun, slamming straight into the weakened section. This time Wes was ready for the influx of pressure, already having magnetized the bottom of his MAS to the ground. Along with the metal plates flying away came the fresh bodies of technicians who had been working on the hull. Those who had no suits quickly died in the vacuum, while those who did scrambled to not get sucked out. Wes whistled. "Poor bastards. Almost feel sorry for them."

Gerard could only bite his tongue and grit his teeth as he watched so many lives get snuffed out in an instant. "...lets go..." he said as he entered into the interior of the ship. The process repeated itself four more times as they smashed straight through in the most direct way. Finally, after meetin very little resistance in the form of ultra-light MASs which they easily dispatched, they found the reactor. A glowing, blue mass of plasmasised promethium and iridium, Gerard grabbed the anti-capital charge off of Wes' back, elicitating a whine from him. "I assume I would be better at using this, Shanks." he said in response. With a deft hand, he attached it to the reactor and started the procee sof booting it up. Pulling the handle up and twising it before depressing it again, numbers popped up on a small screen. Rotating the handle again, he set the timer and strongly yanked the handle off, priming it for detonation. "Let us leave," Gerard said as he crushed the handle and threw it aside, "we have two minutes."

"Y'think command would give us something extra if we stole some of their tech? We could probably just take their reactor with us." Wes grinned as he imagined the look on the Captain's face if they showed up with an entire reactor.

"Well, Mr. Shanks, our charge is currently placed on the reactor. I would hope you would mean to take the reactor back without the anti-capital charge, or else we would be doing the Coalition a service. That, and we have less than two minutes to replace the charge, and remove the reactor."

"Case in point. Let's get the hell out, then," Wes said before keying in command. "Yo. We planted the bomb, Captain. It'll blow in two minu- no wait, one minute, fourty-five seconds. We're returning back to base."

"Not to mention," Gerard said as he indicated the crushed handle, "I have already initiated the failsafe. Now let us leave."

> UEE Imperial Command - Ardin's Shuttle
> Admiral Elias Ardin III

The interior of Ardin's transport shuttle was as opulent as its exterior suggested. Its lush, luxurious interior was open and spacious, highly resemblant of a limosuine in space. Its seats were lined with gold and ivory, and were fashioned from clean black leathers. In the center of the shuttle sat Admiral Ardin himself, one leg casually crossed over the other, golden tassels draped over the black and gold of his crisp and clean uniform. Seated next to him was another man in a similar military uniform, in the black and gold of the imperial service.

"Admiral, we'll be arriving at the Lincoln in a few moments. Should we take control of the ship upon our arrival?"

"No need for such an.. active hand in things." Ardin replied, "I'm sure the good captain will value my input."

---

"Skull squadron has made it aboard, ma'am! The 7th are taking hits but are still combat effective." one of the ensigns reported.

Alexis looked at the holo-display and saw everything that the ensign had just passed on to her. She looked at Trapp's icon on the display, it was blinking orange after he took a heavy hit. "Odin, return to the Lincoln your unit has taken too much damage and I can't afford another death." she looked at the other units, some yellow for minor damage, some still blue for no damage. It was going to be tight.

"7th reports! The cruiser has been destroyed, ma'am. Target is breaking up." Aston said as he looked down at his holopad.

Alexis grinned at the report and looked at the VIP making its way to her. She could see Ardin's shuttle nearing the Lincoln now, moving the battle-carrier closer was a smart move. One of the red icons that was intercepting Ardin's shuttle vanished, the elites surrounding the shuttle had dealt with it. "Echo, dock with the Lincoln for a resupply once the admiral's vessel has made it onboard then launch to assist the bomb team."

"Captain, the admiral's shuttle is now aboard." Aston reported.

An alarm went off and a low rumble could be heard as a hardballer shot managed to strike the Lincoln's shields. They held thankfully, but getting shot at by a hardballer always caused a moment of dread. When she saw on the display that rabbit and wizard dealt with the hardballers shortly after, Alexis let out a sigh of relief, "Good work, you two. Link up with Hunter and take out those frigates. The Lincoln has softened them up for you so it should be easy pickings."

"Uh! Captain!" came the somewhat confused and concerned voice of one the marines standing guard outside the bridge as the door smoothly opened. Admiral Ardin and another officer strode onto the bridge, flanked by a quartet of Imperial servicemen- the black and gold of their combat armor a stark contrast from the UEE standard white and gray. Several of the bridge crew shot looks at the Captain and their new visitors, unsure of how to react.

Despite the combat and the heavy thuds of the Lincoln's weapons, the bridge was silent. Alexis was staring at the admiral, surprised at how fast the man moved from the hangar to the bridge. "Admiral." she started, "The situation is under control, it would be safer for you and your entourage to wait in my cabin until the Lincoln is clear of hostiles."

"That won't be necessary Captain." Admiral Ardin stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "Recall your MAS units. We shall soon be leaving this battlefield."

That tone was one Alexis knew she wouldn't get along well with. But if he wasn't her direct superior, he was still a part of the royal family, she had to deal with it. When she got the order to recall, Alexis looked at the holo-display, "Sir, we can't disengage now. Not with the enemy closing in on the Ulysses." she paused, "There's thousands of people on that station, some of which are the Lincoln's crew. We need to stay."

Ardin looked at the bridge's holo-display, almost admiring the bright flashes of light that signified explosions in the background. The 5th fleet was in a bad position, everyone knew that. They had been caught in the midst of repair and refit operations. The planetary defense fleet on the other hand didn't even measure up to half of the Coalition force. Even if the 5th fleet had been in full functioning order, the two UEE fleets would've been hard pressed to keep the Coalition armada at bay.

"And millions more will die if we do not capture the Coalition superweapon, Captain." Ardin replied smugly. "The lives of a few thousand is a small price to pay for the greater good."

"Admir-!" said the young captain, the fire in her heart burning at the thought of leaving her comrades and the rest of the 5th fleet behind, but she was cut off before she could continue.

"This is not up for discussion, Captain." replied Admiral Ardin, whose voice had taken on a haughty, superior tone.

Once again, Alexis's eyes travelled to the holo-display, looking at the bomb team moving in on the cruiser. She mulled over the admiral's words. She didn't like it, and she definitely didn't want to admit it, but Ardin was right. The captain clenched her teeth, "Helmsman, change course for the remaining coalition cruiser." then to the gunnery chief, "Get me a firing solution on the cruiser for the WMG. Focus fire with our deck guns to weaken it for the shot."

Turning herself back toward the rest of the bridge, Alexis addressed the 7th and her two escort cruisers, "All units, withdraw to the Lincoln, we're leaving the battlespace... The wave motion gun is firing on the remaining coalition cruiser to make a way out. Clear the firing line."

The thuds from the deck guns and picked up as they didn't need to pinpoint their shots of small frigates anymore, instead they innacurrately bombarded the cruiser at rapid fire speeds to take out its shields quickly enough for the WMG. The gunnery chief was looking down at his interface, working out the firing solution. The entire ship rumbled as the Lincoln's main cannon powered up.

She cast her gaze on the Ulysses and looked to Aston, she received an understanding look back but there was no pride in his expression. Alexis sighed and looked over to the gunnery chief, "Status on the wave motion gun?"

"Fully charged Captain, fire when ready." The gunnery chief replied, his voice atypically cowed.

She nodded and traced the firing line on the display all the way to the cruiser. Marquis locked her eyes on the Lincoln's prey.

Another ensign reported, "All friendlies have left the firing line, captain!"

"Fire!" Alexis ordered, followed by the gunnery chief confirming the command.

The bridge shook and a loud rumble took the ship as the wave motion gun roared. The ears of everybody on the bridge rang. The plasma shot travelled the length of the cannon and exitted into the void of space. The bright streak soared through space, disintegrating the small debris that had accumulated from the battle. A chunk of the cruiser that the 7th had managed to destroy strayed into the firing line but the plasma didn't pay it any heed as it melted it to nothing and finished the lives of whoever might have been left alive on it.

The shot continued, catching one of the coalition MAS units. The armor suit's size was insignificant compared to the small miniature star bearing down on the cruiser. Thanks to the deck guns, the shields of the cruiser were wittled down to a capacity that couldn't hold back the WMG. The plasma struck the prow of the cruiser right in the middle, peeling away the plating and the decks beneath outward in all directions. The plasma came out the other end of the cruiser and dissipated soon after, debris trailing after it. The hole punched clean through the ship, inflicting the most possible damage the WMG could give.

The cruiser exploded in a flash of white, its reactor detonated. There was no chance for anybody to escape the nuclear explosion if they managed to survive the skewering of the WMG. The gunnery chief looked up at his captain, "Target disintigrated, ma'am!"

Alexis leaned forward on the rail, "Status of Gemini 1 and 2?"

"Attached and secured to the Lincoln, ma'am!" an ensign reported.

"Good." she then looked to her helmsman, "Full speed ahead. Prepare to warp out. 7th, you have 10 minutes to get aboard, it doesn't need to be pretty, move it!"