(As we have no Zifran or Egriffin players, I will not be posting anything for those countries at this time.)

Lance moved Defiance into a hidden position up on a cliff, giving him full view of the road below. While using the rock to hide him from sensors and from visual sight. Once satisfied in his crouched position, he reached over his right shoulder and gripped the handle of his beam rifle as it was lifted from his back and over his shoulder automatically. Gripping it with both hands he aimed the rifle down at the road. Sighing as he did as all he had to do now was wait.

He had gathered enough intel to know there was a supply train that ran through here and towards the local base twice a month. A small squadron of ten IA escorting it, which consisted of; two Cups, two Coins, two Wands, two Blades, and two Fools. He was confident he could handle the Coins, wands and blades with ease. The fools would be more experienced fighters, and also the commanders of the squad or at least that's what it seemed like. Then the Cups would be his first priority to take out, as they had the ability to transform and fly.

He was still early, and his mind began to wander. His life had change drastically in the last two months. Never did he think he would be setting traps for supply lines to replenish his stores for the Defiance… alone of all things. His eyes closed as the painful reminder of his loss of racked his head. Seeing his mother crushed flashed before his eyes as clear as it was when it happened. Then sure enough after every time he thought of that day, his mind would turn to the battle afterwards, the screams of the men and woman he killed in that battle started to echo in his mind. Causing his eyes to snap open as his heart began to race.

After that first battle, he forced himself never to kill again. It was hard at first, but he quickly adapted. Thankfully to his mechanical knowledge of Magech, it was easy for him to pinpoint the hydraulic system weak points. Wear a single slice or shot could cripple the system, relying heavily on this tactic to quickly end the battle and spare the pilot’s life.

Shaking his head he forced himself to clear his thoughts from his mind. Flexing his hands a few times as he watched the road. Thinking of the intelligence he gathered for this attack. He had chosen this place because it was the best place for an ambush, even though it was close by to the Base with reinforcements it would be the last place they would expect it because of how risky it was. This would cause them to lower their guard and relax a bit more knowing they were so close.

He looked at the clock, seeing he was still 40 minutes early, he turned on his radio and started scanning the channels, attempting to get some more intell while he waited. He came across the broadcast from the King of Westeria, He was slightly surprised at the news of princess. He never heard of anyone over using their Pneuma putting them in a near death sleep. He did take this with a grain of salt however. As he never trusted public announcements. Especially when they use it to push an agenda, and in a time of war. But it would be something to look into when searching more reliable sources.

He checked the clock, In ten minutes the convoy should be rounding this corner. He took a deep breath and turned his radio down, automating the scanning and recording anything it finds. Anything he picked up he would review later. He decided to take this time to calm himself and go over his plan again and again.

Sartorius woke up in a cold sweat, having had the same dream he had every night since he joined Valhalla, that of being trapped in a tiny mahogany chest, cushioned in velvet. Then, like every other morning, he realized why he had this dream. He looked over at the nightstand, where a tiny mahogany chest stood. Opening it, he found his phylactery, sitting in velvet cushioning. Closing the tiny chest, he changed, washed up, and exited his quarters.

At the Magecha training field, her saw Rana's half of their Lovers unit practicing. Upon noticing Sartorius, the unit stopped training, straightened up, turned to face him, and saluted in traditional Westerian fashion. Sartorius nodded in approval. "Training? Good. When did you start?"

"0500 hours, Professor," came the monotone, amplified voice of Rana.

"Good. Stop. There's a mission soon. Can't have you exhausted before that."

"Understood."

Sartorius walked to the hangar to look at his Valkyr. The suit was in shambles, as Sartorius immediately dismantled it upon acquisition in order to study the power systems involving the monster heart. He would, of course, reassemble it at a future date, but with his choice of Monster Heart(s) and with many modifications of his own. For the time being, his Simyalaymis served Valhalla well enough. Rana came up behind him, standing at attention.

"You know, I just had an idea, and I'd hate to have this moment of inspiration leave me." Sartorius proclaimed.

"Sir?" Rana asked, her even tone masking a slight worry.

"Yes, my creator's spirit has taken me, I must work on this machine. You. You will take your half of Simyalaymis on today's mission. Without me. Report to the Einherjar for more details on the mission, I simply must get started on this idea. And of course, if you find that the enemy has any interesting new technology, you simply must procure a piece of it for me. Report back to me with news of your success, tata!"

Rana gave a quick nod, shaking slightly, and left the hangar to find her superiors in Valhalla.

Shailagh dangled almost precariously from her Magecha's collar. Her gaze was intently focused upon the joint between the head and torso. She yelled down, seemingly to no one. "Donella, move the head up! I need more space." The head raised, but a sickening grinding noise permeated the storage bay. Shailagh grumbled loudly. "Stop, that's good. Damn manticore damaged the joint. It better not be a needle." She fit the upper third of her body into the joint, flicking on a work light inside to give her a better view. She got to see what she dreaded. A manticore needle wedged itself into the joint and cut a lubrication line.

"Sonofa! Donella, I need a plasma cutter and an arc welder! And a welding mask too!" A loud hiss of depressurization echoed through the bay as the back of the chest opened to the cockpit. Out came Donella, a very aquatic looking type of fey. She laughed for a moment and gave her wife a sarcastic response as she left to get the items requested. "Well, we wouldn't need that if you had listened to me and took cover instead of trying to pin it and lockjaw it."

Shailagh rolled her eyes at Donella's antics. She didn't give it a response as she needed to prep the area. There were secondary fragmentations of needles in the joint, partially from moving the head, mostly from extra needles hitting armor on the way in. She picked out the smaller pieces easily enough, but she had to grab a couple tools to pry and pull the other fragments out. Some were stubbornly stuck within the mechanisms. Luckily, her Magecha was durable enough that things like this barely did anything to its overall functionality.

The viewscreen crackled, its bright light silhouetting the sole occupant of the darkened barracks common room. Over the speakers, a booming voice made tinny by the poor quality of the broadcast nevertheless strove to seem imposing as it cried out words which, while they might have seemed surprising to anyone else, were hardly a novelty to the one who presently heard them. The evils of Pneuma overuse were far from new to her, and she’d been preparing for a war for as long as she could remember, so hearing the king’s proclamation about his crusade merely marked the end of a long, long wait. She didn’t feel nervous, nor was she overjoyed at the prospect. If she had to describe what she felt, hearing those words… perhaps it would be relief?

The silver-haired girl sat hunched over upon a battered folding bench, knees tucked up to her chest, with her one impassive red eye trained on the small figure on the screen. Her expression of recognition and silent adherence might have been likened to that of a dog hearing its master’s voice, were there anyone there to see it.

”A crusade,” he says. I suppose everyone will be happy. The war is finally on, just as the doctors predicted, Gisela mused, shutting off the broadcast as the last strains of the king’s proclamation finished echoing through the empty chamber. She didn’t really have the luxury of time to grow distracted by such a thing. After all, she had a mission to prepare for, and, even if it would be an easy one, the thought of it still annoyed her.

This wasn’t normally a problem. Piloting was acceptable. She knew how to do it well. She understood it. Even if she wasn’t quite as skilled as her sisters, she could focus entirely on the objective and find fulfilment in completing it. She particularly enjoyed the technical side of her job - finding the limits of whatever machine she was assigned, and practicing reaching them without ever quite pushing them past the breaking point. Each Iron Arcane frame handled in its own unique way, and the experience of discovery made her feel as though her talents were being put to good use. Even if nobody noticed or praised her for it, she felt a sense of purpose - of value. This was what she could do. This was what her existence was for.

But operating an inferior model from Egriffin just for the sake of losing to someone else was hardly the sort of work she could lose herself in. She’d had to hold back, ensure she didn’t go too far beyond the norms. The doctors would scold her if she did too well and made the other pilot look bad. Wasn’t that backwards somehow? Normally, they’d scold her for doing anything but her best. Even if she would be excused for not working her hardest now, didn’t it feel wrong, somehow? And even if they didn’t scold her, just the feeling of losing was already painful enough. She hated it. And now she’d have to experience that same feeling in front of countless people - important people, she’d been told, who needed to be impressed, to be shown how good the new unit was. What about how good she was?! She was a product of the kingdom’s finest science and engineering, had trained since she could remember… For what? All so she could be put on display losing in front of everyone, like some kind of sideshow? Who would even be piloting that new unit? Nobody, no one, nothing! If she really tried, she could probably crush him like an insect. It would be easy! Then they’d all know that it should have been her! She could easily have brought out whatever potential that new unit had, could have shown all those important people how incredible it was, how incredible she was! But once again, she’d just be defeated so somebody else could thrive, cast aside like she had been when-!

She suddenly realized that her hands had balled into fists at some point. She was shaking, and tears were welling up in her good eye. Gisela blinked them back furiously, taking several deep breaths. What was she even thinking? Purpose? Value? Hate? Getting emotionally invested in something like this was simply childish. It was pathetic - unforgivable. She had her mission - all she had to do was complete it. What purpose did it serve distracting herself with all these meaningless thoughts?

Calm. She was calm now. She wouldn’t let her composure break. Not here. It was only half an hour until the demonstration would begin. Her sisters would probably be coming to get her soon. She couldn’t let them see her in such a state. It was fine. She wasn’t going to think about it. She wasn’t. Clumsily reaching over to a nearby table, Gisela snatched up a set of rather battered headphones, pulling them snugly over her ears and then violently mashing the play button on an old handheld media player that had been sitting right next to them. Just like that, the soothing notes of an old classical piano piece washed over her mind, drowning out the distant sounds of hustle and bustle in the corridors, the shouts of the workers in the hangar, and the droning of machines in motion. She closed her eye and exhaled slowly, silently letting out all of the anger that had swelled up inside her.

Nothing. There was nothing outside, nothing in the whole world but her. It was like floating, suspended within some great barrel or cauldron, an ocean unto itself, or perhaps a world all her own. Calm. She was calm now. Gisela let herself grow lost in the notes, recognizing here and there symbols of order that became a stay against the chaos of the outside. Scales, arpeggios, chords, the tempo, the harmony of compatible notes - it all slowly ordered itself within her brain, like a score writing itself, the familiar notes all aligning themselves in her expectations, sounding just when they were needed. Perhaps, if the world were composed of such elements as this, then she could-

The door swung open behind her, striking the wall with a sudden bang that jarred her from her reverie. Gisela stopped the music and stood up sharply, her posture going rigid as her training to stand at attention warred for dominance with her defensive instinct to fight or flee. After a moment of reassuring herself that this was neither the jungle nor the battlefield, the former impulse won out, and so, in as measured a way as possible, she turned around, removing her headphones as she did so. A man was standing in the door, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. So many of the staff at the base wore that look when they addressed her. She didn’t know what it meant, but regardless, she didn’t like it. She took only a moment longer to master herself, then spoke.

“Is it time?” She asked curtly, neither her voice nor her face betraying any hint of the unease she’d been feeling. Her cold, red gaze stared down the man in the door. She couldn’t see any rank insignia on his attire, so likely he wasn’t important enough to warrant any formalities. Since he did not make any issues about her attitude, but merely nodded and stammered out that she was requested in the hangar, she surmised her guess had been correct.

“Understood. Lead me there,” She answered with a slight nod, then fell into step behind him, the soles of her bare feet making nary a sound compared to the ringing, stamping noise of his boots. He never once turned back to look at her, nor did he speak after that, but merely hastened his pace while she followed, ghost-like, in his wake. She wondered if he was afraid of her. She didn’t see any reason why he would be - after all, they were on the same side - but somehow, she still got that sort of feeling.

But feelings were irrelevant. All that mattered was the mission. She entered the hangar, bowed slightly in thanks to her guide, and then stood silently in the corner, waiting.

---

It was a job. That’s how Stella thought of it. Though she knew her sisters had certain opinions about today’s mission all Stella was concerned about was that they had a mission to do and she would do her best, as she always does. Their task was to act as test pilots for a new magecha made by Westeria. Nova said as much as explained the details of their tasks, and Stella accepted it without question. Of course Nova herself felt much like Gila about this whole thing.

Loyal as she was to Westeria and their cause, acting as test dummies were beneath Nova and her sisters. While her pack siblings may be easily cowed by their superior officers, Nova was the leader because she could make decisions for herself and her sisters. Granted despite how Nova also didn’t like the arrangement, she still never declined the mission. She simply made it clear that they will test this new Magecha and its pilot. It was for the good of her pack, as well as Westeria’s military. Supposedly these new iron magecha could make even a green poly stand up against the machines from the other nations; if it turns out Nova and her sisters could destroy said magecha despite how handicapped they were, than surely such a machine had no place on their battlefield.

Nova expects a lecture if they do end up wrecking the thing of course, but at least if they do it this way, Gila would feel a bit happier knowing that Nova was on her side. And if the pilot can defeat them despite their efforts, than Nova can be satisfied that at least the Magecha is as good as its advertised. A simple conspiracy perhaps, but ultimately this was just how Nova wanted to approach this battle. Only fools go into war without a strategy after all. While her sisters were competent and skilled in their own ways, Nova knew they’d be lost without her guiding influence. Just as she intended.

The two sisters would soon enter the hanger bay where their third sister, Gila was awaiting them. The pale, silver-haired girl gave a slight nod as they approached. Although her lips moved and she probably said something like “Good morning,” her words were drowned out by the noise of the bustling hangar - not that any words were particularly needed.

Nova had been debriefed about what sort of tactics and actions she was suppose to do during this test run, and Shizuka was simply waiting for her. Nova nodded to Gila and motioned for her to follow the rose-haired soldier towards the various Iron Magecha docked off to the side.

“Hello my sisters. As I’m sure you’ve been told, today our task is to assist in the testing and presentation of a new Magecha for the Westeria military. The Aiga Pack have been chosen to pilot a few magecha from our current enemy in order to simulate live combat. Now, I’m sure some of you may be dissatisfied with using the enemy weapons, but do bare with it. We may not be using our best equipment, but we must still use our best ability to defeat our target. Outside of this simulation our enemies are not incompetent nor harmless; we must properly represent the true dangers of warfare, and in doing so ensure the best results for Westeria and our fellow soldiers. That being said, there are a few conditions we have to abide by.”

Nova sighed as she continued to walk towards the separate Magecha they’ll be commanding. “Firstly we will be using these Magecha. These are Viking and Fighter class Magecha of the Egriffin Empire. The Viking are sturdy ground-based close-quarter units while the Fighters have a more veritable armament, though they do have superior range capabilities over the Vikings. Of course they’re slim pickings compared to our personal Iron Magecha, but at least they’re superficially similar. Additionally, we’re to limit our use of spells during the course of the test. While some spells we can use in order to add a bit of simulated chaos, we must fight using only what our magecha are capable of until we’re given orders otherwise.” Gila’s visible eye narrowed slightly at this and her brow furrowed in a frown that the pack’s leader knew all too well. Obviously, limitations on spellcasting made no difference, given her crippling level of overspecialization. Regardless, the quiet albino evidently thought better of interrupting, and settled for merely looking mildly frustrated in silence.

Nova took out a handheld device that would create a holographic image of the battlefield they’ll be at. “So, onto tactics. Simply enough, Stella will be piloting a Viking Magecha specced for heavy close-quarters combat while Luna and I will provide long range support via Fighter magecha. Normally we’d do the usual procedure of Stella producing a doppelganger to accompany us as well as preparing traps and ambushes ahead of time, but unfortunately we’re deploying after our target is already engaged and ready for combat. Not exactly how I’d like to do things, but not everything goes our way. Still because we aren’t using our own Magecha don’t get complacent! These machines operate differently and in so many words, inferior to what we’re used to. But that’s no excuse for any of us to be easily defeated. While this may ultimately be a trial run for the experimental magecha and we may be asked to get disabled for the purpose of presentation, we’re still supposed to test the capabilities of the Magecha and it’s pilot. Any questions?”

This time, at least, Gila seemed inclined to speak up. Her cloak fluttered slightly as she gingerly unfolded her arms and raised a hand from underneath it. “Just one,” She said quietly. “I thought that our orders were to restrain ourselves so as not to jeopardize the demonstration. Has that changed?” Nova merely smirked. She figured that Gila would ask this, so Nova put her finger up to her lips. A familiar sign meaning “this is off the record”. While Nova was the pack’s leader and commander, she still spoiled her sisters from time-to-time and isn’t afraid of being casual and honest with them. “Truthfully, I’m not a fan of any of us being a patsy for some nameless pilot and their untested magecha. I mean, surely there are more disposable soldiers they could’ve used? “ Nova said with a hint of contempt. As a consequence of being the elder sister, Nova could be rather vitriolic to others, even fellow soldiers, to ensure that no one bothers them just because they’re younger, female soldiers. This had grown to make Nova generally resent the rank and file who she considers slightly above peasants.

“To that end, I want us to do our best. If we’re going to get shot down then that pilot better work for it. It’s not fair to us nor to him if all we do is stand out in the open and get shot down without even trying to fight back. Again, we’re already at a rather massive handicap since we’re not using our own Magecha, nor are we allowed to use magic.” Nova groaned and looked to Gila directly. “I know your magic is your specialty. Frankly I hate the idea that you can’t use your magic to help me and Stella either. It really weakens our overall ability. But orders are orders. The odds are highly stacked against us, but even so I don’t plan to let any of you fall. Even if we’re supposed to restrain ourselves and ultimately lose, we’re still the best of the best in Westeria. We have our pride too.”

“That may be the case,” She said quietly. “But our handicap isn’t as severe as you may think. We’re already fighting three against one, and our training should give us the upper hand against a normal pilot even without using magic. If we were to fight seriously, there is a very real possibility that we’ll do too well. If that happens, the test will be a failure.” She raised her hands demonstratively, then dropped them to her sides in resignation, draping her cloak back around herself as she did so. “If such a possibility didn’t exist, then why would we be ordered specifically to hold back? Questioning the mission and our orders isn’t our place. Her tone remained calm and measured, and perhaps would have seemed entirely convincing, had she been able to resist making a final comment almost as an afterthought. ”...Regardless of our feelings on the matter,” she added with an almost imperceptible sigh. Ah, so she was angry about it, just as Nova had expected.

“That’s because…” Stella started to speak up, causing Nova to turn her attention to her blue-haired sister. “It’s not just the experimental Magecha being tested. The ones observing the test… They know that we’re piloting the target magecha as well. This is a proxy to test our abilities outside of our comfort zone.” Stella raised her hand, sticking a few fingers out. “We have tactical information that normally would ensure a total victory. First is the location of the conflict. We already know the best places for cover, ambushes, traps, and so forth. We also know that the enemy is alone. This will allow us to focus our entire efforts into destroying him, with no worries about conserving resources or watching for ambushes. And finally we have initiative. We will be arriving to the battlefield before our target would. As Nova said, this would be the perfect time to shape the battlefield to our advantage. Under these circumstances even without our magic, we could simply out maneuver and overwhelm our target.” Stella said, effectively repeating what Gila had said, But she had a bit more to add too.

“But that’s what Nova also wants us to be careful. It seems too easy. We do not know anything about the pilot we’re facing, or the abilities of his Magecha. Our usual tactics may not be effective against him. It’s possible we’ve been chosen precisely because our usual operating procedure is something this magecha and pilot can counter. The ones observing this battle knows that, and may already be aware of what we’ll do. And so we are also being tested. If, despite the odds, we are somehow overwhelmed by a lone target despite the advantages we normally have, what does that say about the skills of the Aiga pack? While we could say that we have been given orders to show restraint and hold back against the target, it may also be interpreted as merely an excuse to cover up our incompetence outside of our Magecha.”

Stella moved some hair out of her face. Her voice was low and monotonous much like Gila’s, however it did seem like she was trying to explain things to her, but not in a condescending way like Nova does. In truth, Stella was only guessing, and she wasn’t questioning anything at all. Just figuring it out for herself and going with the flow. Nova sighed and shrugged. “To put it plainly, it’s politics. I don’t like it but we must understand it if we’re to do our duties and win the war.” While her sisters might be okay with just being soldiers, Nova had the responsibility of being more than a soldier, but still having the same limits as them. Nova had to be savvy about the goings-on within the military, both on the battlefield and back at home. Simply doing your duties as a soldier won’t be enough. Killing the enemy isn’t enough. Nova knew this. In order to win the war, they needed to do more than just fight other Magecha. They needed to leave an impression on allies and enemies alike. Frankly it was stuff that Nova wanted nothing to do with and would rather just be a soldier like her sisters. But because of her sisters, she had to do more.

Clearing her throat Nova returned to her professional stance. Back to business. “I will reiterate: while we’re ultimately involved simply to assist in the demonstration, we still need to proceed with the operation as if we were in a true battle. Thus we cannot make careless mistakes, we must make an effort to defeat the enemy, and most importantly we must not deviate from our given orders. There is no guarantee that anything will go according to plan, so we must maintain strict adherence to our tactics, or failing that, adapt as we should as if we were truly in battle.” Nova reached into her pocket and handed Gila and Stella some ear pieces, communication devices linked to their command center. “While I will direct us in battle we will also receive commands from an officer during the course of the battle. Whatever his command is, we must follow. So if he says we need to charge the target, than we charge. If he says we need to retreat, we retreat. If he wants us to surrender, we surrender. Beyond that, I’ll command you as I always done and we fight as if this was a real battle. Understood?”

Gila had been glancing between them, crossing and uncrossing her arms beneath her cloak with barely repressed unease, as she always did when she had something to say but couldn’t find the right way to say it. At this announcement, however, her concerns seemed to have been allayed somewhat, since she took the earpiece and immediately donned it, giving a slight nod of affirmation. “Understood. I’ll provide support wherever I can.”

Stella nodded, snapping to a salute. “Understood. I’ll take on our target directly and prepare for further orders.” Nova nodded and smiled. “Excellent.” She put on her ear piece as she walked towards the consoles, Gila following in stoic silence behind her. “Head to your magecha and make your final preparations. Take only what is available and necessary. This is a skirmish so don’t be afraid to unload everything you got, but don’t bother weighing yourself down with excess equipment. We don’t know what we’re facing so take a well-rounded set of gear.”

The remainder of the time before the test would thus be spent in diligent preparation, testing the specifications of the drone units, and tweaking their arsenals to suit the pilots’ specifications. Nevertheless, all three sisters were sure of at least one thing as the time of the exercise drew closer.

Regardless of the situation or the circumstances, so long as they could fight together, they would be ready for anything.

Valhalla Hangar

A blue haired female mechanic was working on a blue Valkyr with a small group, deftly making adjustments without taking her eyes off of the Zifran magech. She really wanted to work on it, but she had no knowledge of those kinds of magecha.
A small girl with pink hair, bright red eyes and a sucker of some description walked over to the blue Valkyr.
“Silvy… Silvia!”
The blue haired mechanic whipped her head to see the voice, her bangs covering one side of her face.
“Oh, hey Chelsea.” she said, giving a small wave.
“Are preparations done with the Fafnir yet?”
Silvia closed the panel she was working on, and motioned for the crew to close up their ends.
“Yep. Just finished. Fafy here should have 0 problems on the field today.” Silvia said, giving a wry smile.
“Great,” Chelsea said excitedly, “I’ll go tell Rose. Fafnir is excited too. I can tell.” she said skipping away to a silver haired woman in a pilot suit entering the area.
“Hey Chels. We ready to launch?” she asked the girl. Chelsea nodded happily with a wide grin.
“Sounds good. Who am I partnered with today?” Rose asked.
“You’re supposed to go with Sartorius and Mike, but Mike’s just there for the broadcast.”
“Great. I’ll see you in coms then.” Rose said as she ran to her Fafnir and quickly boarded it.
Chelsea saw another pale haired woman seeming to leave the area.
“Rana! Wait Rana!” she said running up to her, “Are you and Sartorius not going on the mission today? Did something come up? Are you guys sick? You’re Pneuma flow is normal, so that shouldn’t be it.” she asked rapidly. She didn’t want to show it, but she was a bit worried. All of her hard work over the years, despite only appearing 13, wouldn’t get to be seen today if the group wasn’t up for it. But maybe someone else could go with Rose…

=Testing Field=
Lloyd was reading through the manual one more time, and saw that he could change the Fool II into a flight mode with the right packs equipped to it. There was also a new weapon function. One he wasn’t extremely keen on, as he had no Pneuma aptitude to speak of. That said, it was given plenty of cartridges for this situation, so he likely wouldn’t need to worry if he did have to use it. He thought back to his days as a border soldier, pushing back the enemy with little effort thanks to the support of his squad. That said, he was no push over either, having come in the top of his class, piloting and skillset, but unable to do anything related to Pneuma. He had even turned down an experimental procedure to unlock his Pneuma abilities, claiming it would be better if he didn’t have access to such power if it was the way the Kingdom would soon go. He’d be a shining beacon to those without Pneuma use, to prove that he was on the same level, if not greater than the other pilots out there. Sadly, he was now set back to prototype showcasing. A difficult job, but to him it also meant that the Kingdom saw him as expendable. A willing sacrifice to the betterment of the units.
It’d all be worth it though. To make that soldier’s salary that would pay for his family’s well being. His little sister Rei could finally afford a uniform to attend academy, his mother’s medicine could be afforded as well. They’d be out of squalor. From what he had sent already, Rei would soon be starting school. He knew that his mother would choose Rei’s happiness over her own health. He began feeling a slight bit of anger that his mother would choose this, but he quickly shook it off, imagining the look on Rei’s face. He gazed out the window and saw that the Test units were being moved out to position now, meaning final checks must’ve been done and set.
“20 minutes huh?” he scoffed as he placed his helmet on. A hand tapped him on the soldier, and he quickly spun around to face a darker skinned man with black hair in a bun, and a goofy faced blonde man.
“Liam, Sieg. You guys came to watch?” he said, hugging them.
“We wouldn’t miss it.” Liam, the goofy faced one said.
“We actually managed to get a couple of other Lts to replace us on the resupply tain.” Sieg said.
“You think that’s safe?” Lloyd asked incredulous that they did such a thing.
“Relax! The IAs are easily equal to 5 Magecha easily. Plus, who’s going to his a supply train that heavily guarded?”

=Supply Train=
The supply train soon came into view, finding that they were ahead of schedule by a wide margin. It was likely due to the two impatient Lts that were running the show today. Oddly enough to the corporals in the IAs. They could hear the conversation from General Roilant over their radio, talking about the glory of the Westerian Military, and how they would be broadcasting the new prototype, as a form of propaganda to dispirit the enemies.

=Vallhalla Cafeteria=

Claire was approached by a green haired teen boy.
“Hi. I haven’t seen you around. Name’s Roy. You are?”
“Claire.”
Mio arrived with an apple and handed it to Claire.
“Roy, where’s Mike?” she asked him.
“Oh, he’s supposed to be on the mission today.”
“Oh.” Mio said, sadly.
“No worries. He’s only there for his Transmission Magic.” Mike said.
“Yes. You’re right. Thanks Mike. By the way, this is Claire. Starting today, she’s going to be a new pilot.”
“Thank you Mio.” Claire finally managed out.
“Oh, then I’ll be seeing you in the simulator.” Roy continued.
A loud speaker broke the silence, as a monitor lowered from the ceiling, showing Seed’s form.
“Vallhalla. Today, we make ourselves well know to the world. We are launching a mission to destroy Westeria’s new prototype, and to hijack the current broadcast, telling the armies of the world to lay down their weapons and have them dismantled. The team shall be Rose in her Valkyr the Fafnir, Rana in the Lovers which we generously gained thanks to Sartorius, and finally Mike, whose Transmission Magic will allow us to spread our word. He will also be transmitting the mission live to us. For now, enjoy the lovely cartoons that we’ve found from the Dragalia Federation.”
His face disappeared and was replaced by a cute animal like character talking to another.
“That’s odd.” Claire said.
“That’s our director.” Mio said aloud.

Lance sat up when his instruments picked up the convoy coming into view. He was fiddling with a pocket watch in his right hand for the last few minutes, checking it quickly and noticing the group was slightly early. He slipped it back into his chest pocket and quickly cracked his wrists and fingers before gripping the controls.

He waited till he saw the full convoy, allowing them to get closer. He clicked a button near him and Music began to play in the cockpit as he let out a sigh and allowed it to calm him and take over. He checked the range between them on his instruments and when the back of the convoy was within range he reached over and hit the jammer.

His rifle wasn’t aimed at any of the IA’s, but at a bush that hid a pile of grenades meant for his launcher. The explosion, set off a chain reaction around the convoy, where he had placed more explosives that he had gathered from his previous fights. He had placed them close enough that the concusion from the previous would set off the next. In an area big enough to surround the convoy, Causing light damage to most of them, but heavy damage to the two Cup unit’s in the rear.

In the confusion, he fired off a few more shots crippling both the cups even further before he moved his sights to the wands, which had the large rods and would be his next threat. Before they could lock down his location he managed to clip one, and destroy it’s weapon. The second Wand quickly aimed and fired on his location, forcing him to pull back and into cover.

He didn’t stay though, he quickly moved while out of sight on top of the cliffs closer to the group. Slightly flanking them as he did. He popped up and quickly aimed for the other wand’s Rod. After a couple shots he managed to destroy the weapon.

The other IA’s aimed their light rods at him and fired, but he already brought up his shield. As he moved closer and jumped down the cliff to their level. Using his booster to land just soft enough to continue his sideways sprint towards the rear of the group. His music changing as he landed.

One of the blades was close enough that it charged him, raising one of it’s vibro swords for a strike and positioning its second for a follow up stab. Lance pulled his controls back, sliding to a stop and raised his shield, blocking the first strike. He also pulled his rifle close and aimed the barrel straight down, using the side of the gun as a melee weapon to block the stab that was aimed for his cockpit. Barely managing to do so. The pilot of the blade unit was shocked at what happened, and was not ready for Lance to capitalize on that. Twisting his shield and his own unit at the same time, he forced the blades first sword to come down and cross his second. Which knocked it loose from Lances gun. In the same motion of twisting, the rifle was lifted at point blank range, aimed for the groin of the unit. He pulled the trigger, blasting the lower half of the blade unit in half. Just low enough to miss the cockpit but to cripple the machine.

He instantly moved again, dropping his rifle as he did and reaching for his broadsword that was stored in his shield in one fluid motion. Pulling it out and moving behind one of the vehicles at the back for cover. He only waited a moment before moving again, around the other side of the vehicle. However, one of the coins predicted his movement and was charging that location, using it’s heavier machine to ram him. He barely had time to lift his shield up to take the brunt of the hit, but he was not ready for it and it sent him reeling backwards.

Grunting from the shock of hitting the ground. He quickly whipped his head to his left to see the coin following up with its vibro broadsword in a downward slash. Lance parried with his shield just enough to deflect it just over the head of Defiance. Countering while still on his back he swung his blade over his own unit and aimed for the joints in the Coin’s legs, slashing clean through the first leg, and imbedding his sword in the second. Causing the Coin to come crashing down.

Lance used the momentum of his swing to bring Defiance onto its left side. He knew he had to keep on moving. He released his shield which was pinning his left arm in an awkward position. He managed to push himself up and see the second blade unit coming but he was too late, it shot one of it’s harpoons into his right arm, using the wire to pull his arm, while another harpoon was shot from behind Defiance, from one of the downed Cup units, that barely managed to lift its own weapon. In his left arm. The two pulled as tight as they could, restraining Defiance.

@PandaBrady

Rana turned to look at Chelsea, appearing more confused and vulnerable than she normally did whenever she stood by Sartorius' side. However, the vulnerability passed as Rana replied, "Lord Altissima will not be participating in today's exercise, but I will. W-will pilot Rose be my commanding officer?"

Sartorius had abandoned Rana to this task with very little information. Normally, she took her orders from him directly, and she knew not from whom he took his orders. One's chain of command was easily broken when one had only one link to rely on. Receiving her answer, Rana headed to the IA Lovers Custom: Simyalaymis, and boarded it, initiating the docked separation sequence so that she could take only her left, melee-focused half of the unit with her on the mission. Though she had operated alone during her training back at the Tree of Heaven Project, she had gotten used to operating side-by-side with her mentor, Sartorius, making his abrupt absence create an exposed, naked feeling.