CHAPTER ONE

Emilia Pérez frowned at the data feed scrolling before her eyes; a series of incomprehensible alpha-numeric characters that meant less than nothing to her.

"You're sure about this Cee-Ay?" she said.

"AFFIRMATIVE, PILOT PÉREZ," a booming, synthetic male voice replied.

"Completely sure?" she persisted.

"AFFIRMATIVE, PILOT PÉREZ."

Her frown deepened as she felt her Titan's assurance through their shared neural link.

"...because I remember on Demeter, when you also said you'd cracked the IMC encryption-"

"I APOLOGISED FOR THAT ERROR."

Pérez raised her eyebrows and levelled a pointed stare at nothing in particular – although sitting inside her Titan there wasn't really much for her to glare at as her view was a panoramic camera feed of the forest - but her slightly mocking scepticism was evident in the link.

"...I WILL RE-ANALYSIS THE SENSOR DATA."

"Thank you, Cee-Ay" she said, smiling.

A few moments passed, during which Pérez continued walking across the soft and uneven forest ground - or rather, Pérez commanded the chassis of her Titan to walk. She was referred to as the 'Pilot', but the way it worked was more like wearing a ten-metre tall, nuclear-powered suit covered in weapons and loaded with its own artificial intelligence.

The A.I. in question - serial number CA-4435, or 'Cee-Ay' - was actually entirely autonomous and could think and act without her input when she was engaged in more human-sized activities; but 'his' ability to multi-task effectively or make snap-judgements and decisions, especially during conflict situations, was limited.

Titans could, and did, fight without their human counterparts, they were heavily armed and armoured, but slow to move and react to external threats and stimuli.

Pilots on the other hand, were fast, but fragile. They could react quickly and efficiently, and manoeuvre more quickly - thanks to a system of jump-jets built into the belt units on the back of their suits - but one shot in the right place was usually all it took before they went down.

Alone, each could easily hold their own against most threats; but together, thanks to a biological and technological connection between the Pilot and the Titan - known as a 'neural link' - a human and Titan could dominate the battlefield.

The technology in the Pilot's helmet and suit made the neural link possible - allowing the Pilot to assume direct neural control of the chassis - making moving, targeting and firing weapons and countermeasures as easy and natural as lifting her own arms.

When a Pilot sat within the Titan chassis the A.I. became a passenger, able to focus its attention on sensor information, communications, power flows, tactical subsystems and a host of other systems that it would otherwise take a full human crew to keep track of. The Pilot also provided the spark of intuition and gut instinct an A.I. lacked.

There were limitations, sure; the Titan's weight largely precluded any agile combat - jumping was a near impossibility, although the chassis did have rechargeable, directional burst-jets which allowed fast movement in limited surges - and due to its size, there were places where it simply could not fit.

They also made a bigger, slower target too; but heavy armour plating and protective shielding helped protect them from the worst of the damage sent their way.

For all of that though, the positives far outweighed the negatives.

It was a pretty near perfect union of person and machine.

Most of the time...

"PILOT PÉREZ, I MUST REMIND YOU THAT MY CHASSIS WILL BECOME INOPERABLE IN APPROXIMATELY TWENTY-TWO HOURS."

Right now, for example, Pérez was trying her best to ignore the chassis' critically low power supply, and Cee-Ay kept reminding her about it.

"Thanks Cee-Ay," she said, pushing the irritation out of her voice. "I can see the read-out, I don't need the hourly reminder."

Pérez and Cee-Ay had been alone for six days now; their Militia scouting force decimated in an ambush by an overwhelmingly large IMC ground assault team.

The battle had been unexpected, fast, and furious. Her unit had been all but wiped out and the drop-ships sent by their parent ship to extract them had been blown out of the sky. That same ship, the Bernstein had then been driven off by a larger IMC frigate that had warped in.

Pérez and Cee-Ay had only just barely escaped the ambush, evading their pursuers in the thickly forested mountains the planet - whatever it was called - had offered.

Cee-Ay had noted a few other Militia Titans and their Pilots had also managed to disengage from the conflict - but their status and locations were now unknown. Communications now would only give away their positions.

Assuming they survived, Pérez knew they would be doing as she and Cee-Ay were; moving as quickly and often as possible in the vain hope of extraction, whilst trying to stay one step ahead of any continued pursuit.

Normally such pursuit wouldn't be a problem. Cee-Ay's data core was loaded into an Ogre-class chassis - a monster even amongst Titans. His capability on the battlefield could be matched only by a similar chassis, and with Pérez's help, the two should have been able to cut through their pursuit, or evade it almost indefinitely.

But the battle had not been anticipated, and after it began extraction had been promised swiftly; their deployment, therefore, had been rushed. So rushed that Cee-Ay's chassis hadn't been supplied with the fresh nuclear battery-packs it had needed for a prolonged engagement.

Now they were paying the price for their haste and short-sightedness.

"PROTOCOL THREE DEMANDS THE PROTECTION OF THE PILOT." Cee-Ay announced, unprompted. "IN THE EVENT MY CHASSIS BECOMES LOW ON POWER-"

"If you want to protect the Pilot, then finish analysing that sensor data," she said, interrupting him. "Because if you were right, then we might not have a problem."

The Titan was silent for a few more moments before speaking again.

"I HAVE FINISHED RE-ANALYSING THE SENSOR DATA," he said. "THERE IS A NINETY-EIGHT POINT SEVEN-THREE-FIVE PERCENT ACCURACY RATING."

"So it is a uranium deposit you found?"

"AFFIRMATIVE. THE POSITION IS APPROXIMATELY SEVENTY KILOMETERS FROM THIS LOCATION AND ALONG A ROUGHLY SIMILAR HEADING." Pérez observed a solid line superimposed on the ground over her field of vision. She corrected their direction of travel to match it.

"And we'll get there before your current battery expires?"

"ASSUMING WE DO NOT ENGAGE WITH IMC FORCES OR EXCESSIVELY DRAIN MY RESERVES, YES. WE WILL REACH THE POSITION WITHIN SIX HOURS."

"And we can extract it, and process it as well?"

"ASSUMING IT LIES CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE SURFACE TO EXTRACT WITH MY REMAINING BATTERY CHARGE, AND BEFORE IMC FORCES LOCATE OUR POSITION, IT WILL BE POSSIBLE TO PROVIDE AT LEAST SOME ADDITIONAL RESERVES, YES."

Pérez smiled as she reached out with a large metal hand to push a small tree aside from their path.

"Cee-Ay, I owe you an apology."

Five hours later Pérez stood balanced on the branch of a tree, having disembarked her Titan, and stared out across the long, forested mountain slope and into the valley below them.

A patchwork of cultivated lands sat in the basin of that valley, surrounding a mishmash of prefabricated and locally constructed buildings. A large factory-like facility sat at the centre, looming intimidatingly over the smaller structures.

Her helmet visor magnified the image, bringing the buildings to almost a hands-distance away.

The setting sun, whilst not yet over the horizon, cast enough shadow to make the entire place look deserted.

Plumes of steam from several of the largest building's chimney-stacks, as well as a number of lights in many of the surrounding buildings, told otherwise.

"IMC?" she asked, looking up at the Titan.

The ponderous machine turned at the waist, the box-like 'body' of the Ogre-class chassis pitted with scorch marks and divots from small arms fire. A square bank of six brightly glowing blue camera 'eyes' set towards the front of the box regarded her.

"NO. THERE ARE NO MARKERS OR DESIGN ELEMENTS CONSISTENT WITH INTERSTELLAR MANUFACTURING CORPORATION STANDARDS," he said, the camera 'eyes' pulsing in time with his speech. "IT APPEARS TO BE A FRONTIER COLONY."

Pérez frowned and looked once more towards the sprawl of buildings far below them.

"Frontier, but not Militia," she said, more of a statement than a question. She returned her attention to the town and sighed. "Want to bet that big facility in the middle is processing the uranium you detected?"

"I HAVE NOTHING TO BET WITH," Cee-Ay replied, turning his optics towards the town as well. "BUT ENERGY READINGS ARE CONSISTENT WITH SUCH AN OPERATION."

"You're certain it's not Militia?"

"I HAVE NO RECORD OF SUCH A FACILITY BEING LOCATED HERE, SUGGESTING IT IS NOT MILITIA-RUN," Cee-Ay replied. He gave the Titan equivalent of a shrug. "THIS DOES NOT MEAN MY RECORDS ARE ACCURATE."

"Well then," Pérez said, drawing her sidearm, giving it a quick visual inspection and then loading a round into the chamber before holstering it. "Shall we go and ask the neighbours if we can borrow a cup of sugar?"

Night had fallen by the time the two had picked their way down the wooded incline to reach the treeline.

Pérez had elected to remain on foot, relishing the chance to stretch her legs after nearly six days of confinement inside the Titan.

The town now stood a few short miles away across flat scrubland, affording it excellent views of approaching threats - indeed Cee-Ay had barely stepped out of the forest before the sound of a shelter alarm being sounded echoed across the barren plain to them.

"I guess they know we're coming, then," Pérez observed, the Titan's longer stride reducing enough now they were clear of the trees for her to walk comfortably beside him.

"I WOULD PREFER YOU WERE NOT OUTSIDE MY CHASSIS, PILOT PÉREZ," Cee-Ay said. "WE MAY COME UNDER FIRE."

"Relax, big-guy," Pérez said, waving a hand dismissively. "We didn't see any defensive emplacements, and my suit will take some small-arms fire if they decide to turn hostile. Plenty of time for me to hide behind you if needed."

"NOT SEEING EMPLACEMENTS DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE ABSENT," Cee-Ay observed, stopping his forward momentum. "ADDITIONALLY, THEY MAY HAVE MORE THAN 'SMALL-ARMS' TO PROTECT THEMSELVES."

Pérez kept walking, turning to look at her Titan as she passed him.

"We'll look less of a threat if I'm walking beside you," she said, putting determination into her voice and through the neural link. "We don't want to spook these folks more than we already apparently have. And besides..."

She raised an eyebrow at the mech, even if it was covered by her helmet she knew Cee-Ay was aware of her amusement.

"…weren't you suggesting we want to avoid any confrontation to keep your battery power up?"

Cee-Ay's optics tracked Pérez as she walked ahead of him. He gave the electronic equivalent of a sigh and then began moving forwards once more.

They travelled in companionable silence towards the town's outskirts - Cee-Ay activating a pair of shoulder-mounted floodlights as the light dimmed further, lighting the way.

They were near enough halfway to the nearest of the buildings when a radio signal suddenly came to life; a French accented male voice booming through Pérez's helmet speakers.

"That's close enough," the voice said. "We don't want any trouble, so just turn around and head back the way you came."

Pérez drew to a stop, Cee-Ay doing likewise.

"I take it you heard that?" she said, looking towards Cee-Ay.

"AFFIRMATIVE," he replied.

"Not as friendly as I'd hoped," she said, raising her left arm and tapping on the wrist-mounted computer there with her right. "Sorry to drop by unannounced, whom-ever-you-are," she said, her words now transmitting on the same frequency as the mystery voice. "We're Militia - not IMC. We were in a battle a few da-"

"We don't care who you are, Pilot," the voice interrupted her. "We've no quarrel with the Militia or the IMC, and we want to keep it that way."

"Look pal," Pérez said, her patience - already frayed from days of walking and evasion - quickly peaking. "You don't want us around, fine. All we want is some U-232, preferably in a form my Titan can utilise, and we'll be on our way. His scanners show you have a sizable deposit here. Surely you can spare some, even if just to get us out of your hair?"

The line was silent for a few moments, before a different voice suddenly came on the channel; this one a deep, rumbling voice of apparently Russian descent.

"Pilot, this is Vladimir Sokoloff, I am the Foreman of this facility. What assurances do we have of your intentions?"

The ghost of a smile tugged at Pérez's face.

"Not a damn one, sir," she said. "But we're coming towards you in clear sight, weapons holstered and engaging in a dialogue with you. Surely that affords us some credit?"

There was a noise like a scoff at the end of the channel, but Pérez was pretty sure it had come from the French voice.

"You are honest at least, Pilot," Vladimir said. There was a lengthy pause before he continued, making Pérez think they had muted the line. "Very well, you may approach, but not the Titan. We'll give you what you want, and then you leave."

"PILOT PÉREZ," Cee-Ay said, quickly. "I WOULD ADVISE AGAINST ACCEPTING THIS INVITA-"

"Foreman Sokoloff, I accept your terms." Pérez interrupted.

The Titan turned to look at Pérez, the bright lights from his optics dimming as their iris covers slid to a nearly closed position. Pérez resisted a chuckle at the very human expression of her Titan 'narrowing his eyes' at her.

"There's one more condition," the Foreman said after another lengthy pause.

"Oh?"

"We have a...guest, within our facility," Vladimir said, his unease palpable even over the radio. "When you leave, we want him to go with you."

Pérez frowned and looked towards Cee-Ay. She reached up to her helmet's transmitter and clicked the 'mute' key to stop transmitting.

"A 'guest'?" she said.

"FROM HIS TONE AND INFLECTION I WOULD SUGGEST AN UNWELCOME ONE." Cee-Ay replied. "PILOT PÉREZ, I ADVISE AGAINST ENTERING THIS SETTLEMENT ALONE. MY PROTOCOLS -"

"-Demand protection of the pilot, I know." she said. "But the only way to do that is to stay ahead of the IMC until we can extract, and unless I get you this power supply..."

She shrugged.

The iris covers on the Titan's eyes cycled closed and his shoulders appeared to slump in mimicry of a human's defeated, if surly, slouch.

"VERY WELL PILOT PÉREZ," he said, his optics opening again. "I WILL MONITOR YOUR SITUATION BUT REMAIN HERE. HOWEVER, IF I DEEM THE SITUATION WARRANTS MY INTERVENTION I SHALL RETRIEVE YOU."

"I'll be fine," she said with a smile, her affection and amusement communicated down their link. "It's not like I can't handle a few colonists."

She reached up and tapped the mute button once more, resuming the transmission.

"Foreman Sokoloff, we accept your terms."

A/N: My first ever submission of any sort of story. I hope you've enjoyed it so far and want to read more. Should be dropping at least the next chapter once I've done some editing and re-writing. Any comments or feedback are gratefully received.