"Old Blood & Fresh Wounds"

With engines to full and a slow gain on the Draconis, Alan could only watch the rest of the battle play out before him. Just briefly he watched the last pieces of a Militia carrier crash into the mountains below while the battleship designated the 'I.M.S. Malta' open fired on the Crow dropships that still remained. He couldn't help but smile as the Militia vessel eventually finished off itself with a second explosion after it had crashed to a halt and left the Pilot's sight. Meanwhile, suspiciously, the Malta's guns went offline one by one until all but the point defenses went offline.

"Thermopylae to Malta, we've got a new contact, another Widow, possibly Militia commandeered." One of the crew over comms on the Thermopylae reported to its larger, more powerful counterpart.

"Negative, negative, all I.M.C. vessels, this is Pilot Alan Stassov of the I.M.S. Miss Fortune, I'm a little late to the action."

"Hold." He heard someone order over comms, "Registering friendly IFF, welcome back, Pilot! He really did it then?" He heard with the last part more or less whispered or simply not directed at him.

"Thermopylae, where's the rest of our supporting fleet? Over." Alan asked after noticing the distinct lack of additional ships that were supposed to be aiding in the defense of the planet, his own home ship included.

"Tied up in orbit with another batch of Militia carriers, but there's no time for that, the Malta has been boarded by Militia-contracted Pilots, we need to take it back! Remain on standby while we prepare a boarding party to retake our ship!" The man over Thermopylae's comms told Alan.

"Copy that, headed remaining on standby. What of the Draconis?" Alan asked.

"She's taking care of the Ark as we speak."

"We've got an enemy Vanguard on Malta's hull!"

"Voodoo-01, Viper's on station…"

"Ground those terrorists, Predator!" Alan heard in a rapid succession.

"At least I know someone can take care of it." Alan said, setting the Widow to auto-pilot and setting back to watch the Crows go down one by one.

"Let's hope so," Alan heard the familiar voice of Sloan, "Welcome back, enjoy your little detour, yeah?"

"How could I, you left me in the middle of it." Alan retorted smugly, before temporarily muting his side of the comms, "Evi, Information on the Ark, now."

"Information restricted." His Titan reported. Sadly, she was no longer combat capable after the last fight with her greatest challenge. Hull integrity reached a new low, her left arm was barely holding together which meant she could not properly wield her weapons, not that she had any ammunition left to begin with, and all that was left were her few defensive options: A Vortex Shield, and an electric smoke deployer. Frankly, Alan was surprised that a Titan of her model made it this far.

"As far as I'm aware, now's not the time for 'restricted'." Alan argued, finally upset at being constantly left in the dark. Meanwhile, Alan watched a few friendly Widows deploy a pair of Scorches to aid Viper in his battle.

"Par-ra-ameters, accepted." Evi began, "The power source n-nicknamed, 'The Ark' was developed by I.M.C. researches to power a recently c-classified project. Further information is restricted to only senior levels officers and staff associated with the project."

"Yeah, 'classified'." Alan muttered as he looked up at the curious structure composed of many circular rings embedded into the mountains ahead of them.

"Alright, Pilot, boarding party is prepped and-"

"Viper-01 lost control, losing control. Going down, mayday, mayday, going down!" All I.M.C. personnel heard from the Apex Predator, the others looked on in horror, but a minute later they were relieved when the Northstar Pilot made a vicious return and crashed into the Vanguard standing triumphantly on top of the Malta.

"Does anyone have a clear shot?" Someone else asked

"Negative, negative, focus on reclaiming the Malta. Pilot, this is Thermopylae prepare for boarding action." Alan was instructed to which he complied.

"Gonna' have to land in that hangar bay Thermopylae, it's the only place this bird'll fit." Alan informed the trailing I.M.C. ship. However,

"I've lost the hatch, need cover, need cover!" Viper exclaimed. By now, both him and the Militia Vanguard were duking it out on top of the Draconis, with no clear winner, but for now, the I.M.C. Pilot had the upper hand.

"Roger, Viper, enroute to your position. Thermopylae, permission to assist?" Alan asked as he went ahead and tried to speed up past the ship. Before him, was the Malta with crew starting to land aboard it, but after a flurry of missiles from atop the Draconis, bad just went to worse. The missiles themselves peppered the Draconis setting it ablaze and blowing apart vital structural supports.

The ship was now ablaze, barely keeping steady as it descended.

"Draconis, this is Enforcer 1-3, we've lost Viper." One of the Goblins escorting the aforementioned ship informed, "Be advised, you have a hostile Titan and Pilot pair still active and about to breach your hull."

"Thermopylae to all surviving I.M.C. units, friendly forces in orbit are giving us reports of additional incoming Militia signatures. Headed our way, disperse to friendly airspace and prepare to retrieve the package. Pilot, we're withdrawing the boarding operation, come aboard. Over and out."

"Warning, incoming enemy dropship." Evi reported to her Pilot. Alan figured that the ship was trying to steal yet another I.M.C. vessel, but suddenly he looked over to his left and saw the Crow ram shove into him.

"The hell?" Alan said to himself as he returned the favor, but after a quick back and forth he saw a quick glimpse of a C.A.R. drop in front of him, quickly leaving his view as Alan heard some thumping above him.

"Hostile Pi-ilot on board. Be aware, Pi— A-Alan." She stuttered her alert. It only took one glance up to see a machine slide down and block his view. It seemed to be a familiar sight, yet, foreign to the Pilot. With a large optic giving a glow, the equipment, but what caught Alan off guard was the addition of a jump kit. New Spectre model perhaps?

Alan didn't have time to ponder as he watched a metal fist punch at the glass in front of him. He barely had time to think before the glass finally cracked which prompted immediate action from the Pilot which was to retreat. After getting to the lower level and hearing the glass shatter above him, Alan shoved open the door separating him and his Titan, the latter of which immediately grabbing hold of him and securing him within her compartment. "Di-isembarking transport, hold tight, Pil-lot." Evi warned as she jumped from the widow. After a little maneuvering with her hover thrusters, The Titan and her Pilot made a heavy landing on top of the Thermopylae. But from the top of the ship, Alan looked back at the Crow that had tried to crash into him and saw that new type of Spectre's optic burning with a hatred directed at Alan, next to him was another Pilot, the same woman that betrayed him and their team not too long ago. The machine was new though, and though he had a hunch, he doubted such a feat would be possible. Either way, the Thermopylae pulled away from the Malta as the Draconis finally crashed into the ground.

- ( o ) -

It took an hour to secure the crash site of the Draconis, but when the they did, the I.M.C. fought ferociously. Sadly, there was nothing that could be done for Evi's questionable structural integrity, instead, the best that the generous crew of the Thermopylae could do was to supply Alan with a pair of batteries for her shields and a new quad rocket launcher to make her 'battle-ready'. It was a poor idea, terrible one even, but the Pilot wouldn't turn away their gifts, especially since he needed them now more than ever.

The transport vessel was devoid of its marines and Phantom fighters as they had already been deployed to the testing facility below, but the engineers aboard were kind enough to help fix Evi's arm. Granted, the best they could do was the equivalent of fixing a shoulder that had been dislocated, but like the gifts he was given, Alan would not decline. After they were done, Alan boarded his Titan and walked her onto a new Widow that was waiting for him.

"Blisk says that he's got the Ark," One of the crewmen told Alan, "But now we've got bigger troubles, a whole fleet of Militia carriers just jumped into the system and will be here at any moment."

"Any word of the ships that were defending us up there?" Alan asked, worried about the Miss Fortune, or more specifically, Vanessa who was facing such overwhelming odds.

"Last I checked, they dispersed as not to get overwhelmed. Says they can rendezvous later and assist our ground defenses." The other man said to Alan, whom let out a small sigh of relief, "And to think that even our counter intelligence, which succeeded, still wasn't enough."

"What happened to them?"

"All dead I'm afraid, every single one…" The man said with a clenched fist, "Anyways, good luck down there, sorry we can't do more about your Titan." He finished as the Widow's doors shut and Alan could feel the transport take off.

Alan wondered if that included Dominic, as that was the last Alan had heard from him. Perhaps it did and that he'd never get the chance to see him again, but even so, now wasn't the time for mourning, there were Militia to kill and a world to defend. Not a moment too soon, the intercoms came to life with, "All hands, brace for combat! Militia carriers have been spotted!" That was all Alan heard before finally being deployed.

Once on the ground, Alan and the defenders with him were immediately put to the test as wave upon wave of dropships threw their troops at them despite the air defenses shooting a number of them down. The I.M.C. defenders were stationed on a cliff with two steep drops on either side of them: in front of them, a lethal fall down a mountain, behind them, behind the buildings connected to the testing facility, a fall into the pit dug out for the circular structure which would ultimately lead to their death as well. The grunts were, to say the least, 'a little displeased' with the two options given to them, nevertheless, they held their ground in fending off the Militia that tried to establish a beachhead.

"Christ, they just keep coming, don't they?" One grunt complained as he sat in one of the hastily dug trenches. They were all but surrounded by crashed Crows and even a single Tone that Alan had destroyed with the air of a pair of Archer from the infantry with him.

"Hah, come on you bloody bandits! We've got plenty more!" Another cheered as the last of the recent wave finally fell.

"I've got word from command, package is secured and being deployed as we speak, Militia won't know what hit 'em." Reported another, but in the distance, Alan could see one brave Crow dropship headed straight for them. "Everyone look sharp, we've got one more coming through. This one thinks it can make it."

The Crow evaded shot after shot thrown at it, closing in closer and closer as it made the grunts on the ground slowly start to grow tense with worry, even Alan in his Titan could barely give it a scratch with his missile launcher. Ultimately, the defenders would manage to take out one of the vessels engines but not before it got too close and crashed into Alan and his Titan. There he was again, the new model Spectre with a vendetta against him, but as both machines crashed into the building behind them, Alan could see out of the corner of his vision another individual escape the crashing ship.

"Ej-j-j-jecting Pilot," Evi said, as she now was in free fall into the pit behind them. She grabbed Alan threw him upward, back to solid ground.

"Evi!" Alan shouted, "You better come back here, ya' hear?" He tried to yell back, but by now both the Crow and the Titan were out of sight.

Alan skid and tumbled into the dry, grainy dirt, until he finally rolled to a forceful stop. He could hear the familiar sound of gunfire while a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him into the trench where a number of grunts were either dead or pinned down. "Nice flying sir," One of the grunts joked while Alan gasped for air while cursing the man under his breath, "We've got a Pilot opposite of us, moving cover to cover using debris."

"Clear shot?" Alan coughed before propping himself up. Though it wasn't too serious, he could feel his body ache just from the fall alone, thankfully his armor had kept him protected else he'd probably have a large gash on his back now.

"Negative, sir. If she gets on top of us, we're done for!"

"Alright then-" Alan groaned from the aches as he got to his feet, "I'll take care of our little traitor, just don't fire until I give the word."

"Traitor?" One of the other grunts echoed and asked, but Alan had already jumped out of the trench in spite of his body still wanting to rest a little more.

Alan drew his pulse blade hanging from his chest and threw it in front of him, impaling the ground at the foot of the wrecked Tone he had destroyed not long ago and behind it was the feminine frame of the Pilot he was searching for. Of course, she knew this too as the sonar alerted the turncoat Pilot, but turning to take an opportunistic shot was her first mistake. The I.M.C. Pilot shot a grapple at the woman's feet, startling her while Alan closed the distance and grabbed her by the arm holding a pistol. With the clear upper hand in the fight, Alan was quick to act, unlike the woman he was facing, he had experience lots of experience in hand to hand combat outside of just simulations that these new generation of Pilots were used to. Either way, Alan elbowed her twice in the head before delivering a strong side kick to her tightened-up stomach. Throwing her weapon to the side, Alan, rather intimidatingly, started toward the Militia Pilot who carefully backed away to buy herself a few precious seconds to think of a plan. So, before Alan could act, she threw a side kick of her own which was swiftly caught by the older Pilot, "Listen, Mary, it was 'Mary', right?" Alan questioned, "I really don't want to have to do this." He began, believing that his foe could see reason, "You're surrounded, your outmatched, and you have no escape. If you surrender now, I'll try and put a good word in for you, maybe say you were abduct-" He tried to offer before the woman hopped up with her other leg to kick Alan in the shoulder, narrowly hitting his head, but the kick brought both of them down. "Why do I even try to be nice…" Alan groaned, rubbing his shoulders.

"Don't know, but it'll be the death of ya." Mary answered, flipping a knife in her hand before bringing it down in an attempt to kill Alan, but the man was easily able to block it with his arms crossed in an 'x'. "Stubborn- Bastard!" She growled.

Behind her, she felt a leg overlap hers and once she realized it, a quick hand to her chest which made her yelp in surprise before being shoved over and to the ground. Alan, being the stronger of the two, used his weight to pin her down while placing a strong forearm on her neck, just enough to keep her from flailing and trying to escape. Meanwhile, as a team of grunts approached. Her eyes darted to each of the men, afraid of death that would approach. With the knife now in the hands of Alan she felt the blade around her thigh, and prepared for a painfully deep cut, but instead it was just the straps to her jump kit that faced punishment. One by one, they came off and eventually off came the expensive piece of gear before she was forced to turn to her stomach. "Sir, we're getting reports of another Militia Pilot punching right through our forces, he's headed for the testing facility." Said one of the grunts.

"Alright then," Alan said, using the remains of her equipment belts to tie her hands together, "Call for an evac from whoever you can to get us the hell off this rock. No use in defending this place if they're on the other side of the facility and already breaking in."

"And her?" Another grunt asked.

"She's going with you," Alan said, "Just keep her a safe distance away and constantly with a gun or two aimed at her." Alan instructed. He certainly wasn't willing to bring her along in case she hindered or tried to kill him some way somehow, but, leaving her here was the easy way out. "Come on, up you go." Alan ordered, pulling the woman to her feet, "I gave you a chance, you know."

"Screw off." She replied, before being shoved along by the butt of an R-201. He almost forgot about his mission, the one to hunt the Militia Pilot. He hadn't got any updates on it recently considering he had little contact with anyone above him, that and plenty of obstacles getting in the way, but if that Pilot was as deadly as mentioned, then perhaps he was here at the facility which meant, he was back on track!

"What about you, sir?"

"I've got outlaws to hunt and a bounty to complete. Go on without me, and tell whoever comes to get you that I may need evac!" Alan told them as he marched inside the buildings he was to defend and turned to a sprint to race across the whole complex. He wasn't sure how long he had, how far the Militia Pilot had gotten, nor if it was even the right person, but, either way he was not about to let the Militia claim another victory if he had the chance to stop it. "This is Alan Stassov to any I.M.C. Personnel in the area, do you copy?" Alan hailed over comms as he entered a manmade bridge fit with glass walls and a steel roof which over looked a steep drop.

He got no response.

It took a little time too much time for his liking, but eventually Alan made further and further into the facility where he then ran into a door spewing a little bit of smoke. Carefully he tapped the door and felt it its scolding heat even through his thick gloves, but he didn't have the time to find a new route so instead he shoved open the door as quick as he could and was immediately met with a heat wave that physically made him recoil from the heat and enough smoke to cloud the whole room. Above, he could see the Militia carriers and remaining I.M.C. fleet composed of frigates and destroyers duke it out in the last battle for the sky, at some point he heard a faint signal through his helmet's comms, "-our first line of defense, I repeat, they're past our…" Was all Alan could hear before his comms went dark again. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Alan pushed through the thick cloud of smoke and bore with the intense fire and heat all around him. He wished he could rush through the room, but that was not an option without being badly burned.

The Pilot carefully pressed forward and took a look around. He wasn't sure how this started, but if he had to guess, it was the result of the one-armed Torso of a Vanguard dangling from cables. Its optic was torn from its socket and lying on the ground, interestingly enough the optic itself was missing completely, but Alan didn't have the time to inspect the remains of the faded green colored Vanguard which was not burning along with the rest of the room. Alan lightly kicked the Titan's hand to check if it still had any power left, but it was nothing more than another wreck now. "Damn Militia." The Pilot muttered, "We never wanted any of this..." He finished as he continued to trudge through an opened door up ahead.

The next room had clearer air, but now there was a number of dead I.M.C. soldiers with clean shots through each of their heads. Smart Pistol, Alan thought, knowing full well that no one could be this precise without assistance, the evidence becoming more obvious the further he went.

With the aid of his jump kit jumping up a few ledges and climbing up a few more set of stairs, Alan made it back outside where the circular structure had begun spinning up. He took in the sight of the colossal device before shaking off his awe. Continuing to his right Alan watched a few I.M.C. destroyers and frigates form up and engage the Militia carriers that were slowly winning over the airspace, but just before Alan grabbed onto a zipline, he saw one destroyer launch a devastating salvo that marked the killing blow. The I.M.C. Navy was putting up a good fight, that was all Alan needed to know as he went back inside to encounter more bodies with clean robotically precise shots through them.

Finally, after doing a little wall running to cross a chasm, Alan into the outside again to a pseudo bridge with three huge cables running on either side. On the left it was marked with '03' and '07' on the left and right respectively, and in the center was yet another bridge, a smaller one, running perpendicular to the cables while bodies hung from the railings and littered the ground along with bits of machines that made up a number of attack drones.

His instinct told him to draw his pistol, so, he did. Across the bridge, on the roof next to the tower with a radar dish on top, a battered but still functioning machine stood tall and rolled its neck and arms. It was the same 'Spectre' that had punched through his Widow's window, the same 'Spectre' that crashed a crow right into Evi and sent them both flying off the edge, but now, Alan was starting to believe that this was no mere 'Spectre', but something else entirely…

"Of course, you live. Good, good, because I want makes sure you die with my hands around your throat." Said the machine over comms. Alan was sure he had heard some mention of this model before now that he thought about it, but after some time of silence he figured it had long since been shut down due to numerous failures, could this be something similar to the 'Spectre Camo' he heard about prior to Demeter? "Are you listening to me?!" The machine yelled.

"Not particularly." Alan answered. He needed this to be over with quick, assuming this wasn't the target he was after, he needed to stop the Militia Pilot from breaching into the main facility and complete his mission. He looked around to pan his approach, there a few crates, a small 'valley' of sorts in the center of the bridge which explained the smaller bridge in the center, but not much else he could do.

"You… You… Stassov! I go through all the pain of becoming greater and still you choose to ignore me?" The machine exclaimed. "I will show you… Actually, you know what? I'll let the I.M.C.'s own machines let loose on you!" The man said as a few large Stalkers emerged from behind him while he drew two red, circular disks and deployed them. This didn't look good for the Pilot, but they were machines, simple machines, it was their greatest strength, and their greatest flaw.

The first team of Stalkers made their move, but they were as predictable as they were clunky. Jumping out from behind a corner, Alan yanked a Mastiff from the clutches of one of the Stalkers and kicked it back toward its other three companions. With one pull of the trigger, the energy from the shotgun hit the Stalker's that was now on the ground, but before the other three could open fire, the back of the fallen machine began to glow and heat up before exploding, taking down the other three along with it, "That's new," Alan whispered to himself, keeping note of how to exploit the new generation of machines for his own use. He would have otherwise used his data knife to hack into them but considering the danger, he opted not to, and that wasn't even considering whether or not they could be hacked into.

Alan moved to a crate for cover as he heard the metallic clanking of more of the machines hunting him. On either side he could hear them, so he made his move. When the Pilot turned the corner, he immediately shoved his weapon's barrel into the head of the Stalker before pulling the trigger to decapitate it, but the second one coming up behind him was a bit quicker. When Alan went to do the same for the second Stalker, the machine swatted the weapon out of his hands, but the man was quick to draw his pistol again and fire into its torso before kicking it back down the light incline leading up to him and seeking cover before it exploded. He needed to take care of that lead robot controlling these things if he wanted to get anywhere, so, devising a plan and executing it, Alan climbed onto the crate he was hiding behind and dashed forward. He waited just enough to use his jump kit which helped him cross the gap below so that he could grab onto the railing and pull himself up, unfortunately one of the Stalkers used its legs to jump up on the opposite side of the bridge and slowly encroach on him while Alan took cover behind a small blue crate reading 'WERNECK' with a small I.M.C. logo on its left. Taking the chance, Alan daringly ran out of his safe cover and fell to a slide where he then grabbed the Stalker's head with his grapple and brought it down before emptying his pistol's magazine into its head. After a quick reload, Alan holstered his pistol and took up the Volt the Spectre was carrying, meanwhile, as he rolled into cover once more, bursts from an L-STAR raced over head as he was then pinned by the machine.

Alan tried formulating a plan, but before he could finish, he saw a small, flashing red robot with four small, rather adorable legs to be honest, headed straight for him. As the small Tick began to dangerously glow and with Alan not knowing how to properly deal with them, Alan jumped over the shielded railing and into the fire of the Stalker. Unfortunately, as the Tick exploded and set a few bits of shrapnel flying, a piece or two hitting Alan, but his armor had saved him from that disaster. The Pilot suffered a burn on his left shoulder from the Stalker still trying to kill him however, Alan wouldn't let the arm rest and instead fought past the pain, gunning down the last Stalker before hitting the ground with a painful thud.

After dealing with the two squads of the new generation robotic infantry, Alan took aim to where the other 'Spectre' stood, but it was missing. In a flash, the robot wearing Pilot gear appeared right in front of Alan, grabbing his gun and breaking it in half before throwing a wild hook that narrowly hit the Pilot. "I'll say, I'm impressed. Alan." The machine complimented as Alan stumbled back in preparation for a fight.

"What and who the hell are you?" The man asked. There was no facial expression, but the Pilot could tell that his enemy was not pleased to hear the question.
"The pinnacle of robotics, a Simulacrum, the latest and greatest generation of Pilot this Frontier has ever seen!" The machine went on to hype himself, "I am faster," He began as he started to lightly, but painfully, 'tap' Alan, which he retaliated with a punch, which was easily caught, "I am stronger," He said as he quick brought Alan closer and punched him in the chest, sending the man flying back. Alan watched the Simulacrum disappear and reappear right above him, "I am just better, now." He said before winding back for a punch, but Alan rolled away to evade while the machine made a dent in the metal flooring. "As for who I am. You should have really remembered, I was top- "

Right, him, 'Edwin'. "Look I know I asked, but frankly, it's not worth my time." Alan panted, catching his breath as the machine claiming to be 'Edwin' twitched its head.

"Not. Worth. Your. Time?" Edwin slowly repeated. The man-turned-machine yelled in fury before charging at Alan. With lightning speed, the machine imitating a Pilot threw wild punches, most of which were redirected away from Alan but a number of them hit their mark. "I did not put myself in a stasis tube on this backwater world to simply be cast aside and ignored by you of all people!" Edwin exclaimed.

Alan was punched back to a crate, but when a heavy blow was headed toward his face Alan ducked under, moved away, and with a quick draw of his pistol, fired three shots into the exposed right shoulder of the machine. Not being deterred, the Simulacrum grabbed its data knife and made a decently-sized slice across Alan's abdomen. It wasn't the worst he had, but it was painful and it was bleeding. That was one thing that machine had over him. Pressing his advantage, Edwin with his quicker moves made a few cuts across Alan's limbs, the worst offender of which being the outside of his right leg. "You know…" Alan grunted, "If this planet goes, then so does you 'back up'. Even as a machine you won't get to 'reset' and start again.

"All that matters is killing you, I want you dead, and the Militia really want the troublesome dog that you are put down! Got that, little 'Hound'?" Edwin mocked the label the Militia had plastered onto him. He followed suit by throwing a powerful kick which Alan did his best to block, but upon impact Alan could feel a small crack in his defending arm before yelling out in pain, "Yes, shout some more so the whole Militia fleet can hear my Victory!"

On the ground, listening to Edwin gloat, Alan did a quick test on his arm by twitching each of his fingers. They appeared fine, and he could still move it without too much difficulty, which meant it must have been a stress fracture, not bad, but certainly not good.

"You know what? I think I'm just going to crush you to death with one of these crates." Edwin stated, knowing full well Alan was not in the greatest of positions to get up and retaliate, but up the incline leading toward his destination, the second Tick that had seemingly disappeared emerged and headed straight for him. God, the way it walked was ridiculously amusing, but now wasn't the time! Alan enduring the new, sharp pain in his left arm, shot his grapple at the Tick and with his other hand, grabbed the cable. Alan painfully rolled to his back, his blood starting to pool on the floor around him as he searched for the Simulacrum who was now on top of the bridge trying to pick up the blue crate. "It's a shame none of your friends are alive and here to witness this, 'cause-" Alan interrupted him by slinging the explosive Tick directly at the prideful machine, "What the-" Edwin managed to say before the tick went off in a puff of flames.

Was it over?

"Fine, if that's how its gonna' be."

No.

Alan quickly rushed to his feet just as Edwin menacingly walked closer and closer before disappearing in a flash of light. The Pilot looked around to search for where this monstrous machine could be, but remembered what kind of man the metal body housed within it. The man made several steps back before a flash of light appeared right in front of him again, but this time Alan was at Edwin's back as the latter of the two tried to pop up behind the former for a deadly assassination, but Alan was no fool.

The machine sparked and was badly burned, but was durable enough to remain standing even after the explosive attack. Just as Edwin started to turn in reaction, Alan shoved his old Hammond into the machine's left shoulder and fired three more rounds. He ducked under a flailing 'punch' which was just Edwin using his damaged arm as more or less a glorified club, but Alan ducked under it bringing his knee to the machines stomach. Even though it wouldn't physically hurt Edwin, it did give Alan the room to fire three more times, but this time was in the left hip and leg joint which brought Edwin to a knee. Edwin tried to retaliate by clumsily drawing his revolver, Alan kicked it out of his hand and brought the barrel of his pistol down on the glowing optic of the Simulacrum. However, with his one good leg, Edwin kicked off the ground and tried to return the favor but just missed and twisted over to fall to his stomach. As the machine tried to crawl away, Alan stepped on Edwin's back, firing the last three bullets in his magazine into the other leg's joint. "I kept count; we both know you're empty. Ha-ha! Everyone's watching, can't you hear them laughing and mocking you!" Edwin raved like a madman. "Even in this state I still win. You'll die here too Alan, you'll-"

Alan, forcing himself to use both hands, grabbed the Simulacrum by the head, pulling the machine up from the ground, "Just shut the fuck up already!" The I.M.C. Pilot exclaimed in irritation.

"No wait!" Edwin tried to yell to beg, but with his patience worn thin, Alan hadn't stopped to listen, instead, twisted and snapped the humanoid machine's neck and winced in the pain his injured arm gave him, but after letting go, the metallic body collapsed to the ground. Alan didn't stop to even take in the victory, for he had to keep moving forward, he had to stop the Militia. He looked up to the shattered moon, he had to stop a second Demeter…

Trudging forward was easier said than done. He passed the short 'L' shaped hall and walked onto the dirt ground, his blood dripping to the ground. Just as he looked upon the massive railguns defending the base, a thunderous cannon from inside the numerous rings fired. The 'Ark' or whatever it was, was starting to activate. Alan still pushed himself forward, holding his blood soaked, good hand to his wound to try and stem the flow, but there wasn't too much he could do by himself.

Even in his optimism, Alan knew he was at his limit after he hopped down from a ledge and struggled to stay on his feet. It was only when he reached the bridge that his body gave out on him and he tripped to the concrete surface below his feet. This was his limit, he could no longer keep moving forward, even if he could, he was alone, and would be greatly outmatched considering both his current state and the number of fallen I.M.C. Titans that tried to defend the facility.

From the looks of it, he was all there was left, and he didn't have the strength to go on. He watched the rings speed up and in the center of them was a growing blue glow of energy, Alan pondered about its use, what it would do. Seeing its size and the propensity of the I.M.C. to create devastating weapons, it was probably something similar. Odd looking enough to get a small chuckle from the bleeding Pilot, but if it was this important that the Militia are going after it then it must have been as deadly.

As the orb of blue energy grew larger and larger, its edges electrified, a second shot rang out. Alan could do nothing but watch. It was short lived and quick, but if his eyes weren't failing him, he could have sworn that the round fired was instead a Titan. A Vanguard or an Atlas judging by its size, likely the former considering it was the Militia, but either way Alan scoffed before a massive explosion went off in the center, bright enough for the Pilot to shield his eyes. Next was a bewildering and amazing sight of chunks of rock and whole landmasses were thrown up into the sky and suspended in midair as if to deft gravity's pull.

That's when Alan felt and heard the ground quake beneath him. Lazily looking over to his right, he could see the bridge start to crumble and collapse. Freedom at last. He was tired, he wanted to rest, perhaps now was the best time.

So, Alan shut his eyes, and took a deep breath, reluctantly awaiting his fate. Slowly pieces of the bridge started coming apart, but as it came closer and closer to Alan, even as he started to feel the ground he was sitting on crack, the sound of mechanical legs awoke him from his fake slumber and before he knew it, Evi, covered in char and barely holding together, grabbed him and fled the scene. "Pilot on- on board. Retrieva-a-al successful." She reported before running off with him safely within her. Alan wondered where she would run off to, he knew full well there was no escape so why would she still run? Survival instincts, or programing rather, but it wouldn't out run the destruction.

Evi climbed over buildings, a few chunks of rock, dodged incoming debris as if they were enemy projectiles, she learned and mimicked his moves well, he was proud to know that much at least. She didn't pause, she was never hit, she was agile; Alan wanted to ask where she wanted to go, but could not muster the strength to do so. Although she could make her grand escape with him secured, Alan kept slowly dozing off as the loss of blood was starting to catch up to him. The man was about to shut his eyes and find some peace in sleep, but his caretaker wouldn't let him.

"Stay awake, Pilot, we are approaching the rendezvous coordinates." She said clearly and without error for the first time in a long while.

"Heh-Hey. You get fixed?" Alan managed to utter cheerfully, but drowsily to her. He got no reply. He felt her footing slip as the ground gave out below her, but she refused to give up unlike him; instead she used her hover jets to make up for her mistake and catch her footing again. Like a Pilot, she adapted, she learned, she improvised. 'Pilots never quite stop learning.' That's what Dominic had told Alan, he wondered if that applied to some Titans too, after all they did adapt and 'take notes' from their users the longer they survived, maybe it was the same.

"Designated coordinates unreachable," Evi said, as the ground around her was next to gone, "Hover mode engaged." She stated, igniting her thrusters just as the last of the ground finally collapsed and gave away. The Brute Titan suspended itself in the air, slowly approaching their destination of nowhere without any second chance appearing. They were afloat in the air, the only thing keeping them from dying was Evi's jets. "Friendly dropship i-i-in-ncoming. Stand by, Pi- User: Alan Stassov."

Alans stayed silent as, from the corner of his eye, a Goblin dropship swooped in on approach to them and as the doors opened up, new life shot into Alan's eyes. Vanessa came for him…

"Dis-disembarking, Pilot." Evi stated as her hatch popped open and her hand reached in to grab her precious Pilot.

"Evi?" Alan said in a curious tone, not fully able to comprehend her actions before it was too late.

"Farewell, Pilot." She somberly stated as she offered the injured Pilot over to the Miss Fortune's commander who reached out from inside the transport before quickly grabbing the Pilot and pulling him inside.

"Evi!"

"Pi-Pilot, this unit was not designed for-or longevity. Th-ank you, but Pilot- You m-m-must survive." She finished saying with mixed tones, as her thrusters gave out one by one. As she fell, the Goblin's door slid and hissed shut while Alan pushed his face to the glass, unable to do anything as his Titan fell into the unstable depths below them.

"Get us the hell out of here!" Vanessa shouted to the ship's pilot.

"Aye, ma'am!"

In seconds, the jump drive spooled up in a flash the transport found itself in orbit while Typhon's surface cracked, shattered, and ultimately let out a continent-sized explosion. Alan took in the painful sight, unable to even utter a word as the Militia claimed yet another world in their conquest of the Frontier. He could only collapse into a seat as he felt the weight of his failure to stop the Militia hit him once more.

Vanessa pulled off Alan's helmet, revealing the sweat, Alan's dark, matted hair, dried blood running down his light skin, and eyes full of disappointment in himself before setting the helmet on the seat next to its owner. The officer didn't look much better, her once pristine naval uniform was torn apart, revealing a rather dirty undershirt with a droplet of blood or two. She was covered it a bit of soot from fire no doubt, she had a small cut across her cheek, and she had a bandage wrapped around one of her arms, but unlike Alan she still had a smile on her face, "And here I thought you were dead…" She whispered, embracing her close friend and refusing to let go until she felt she had enough.

"What happened to you?" Alan asked weakly, finally noticing the woman's messy state and feeling a little worried about what chaos and destruction she had to endure on her side of the battlefield.

"Well, we're a bit roughed up, but now we've got a Militia carrier on our kill count now; gave it a full broadside!" She cheerfully proclaimed before taking the free seat next to Alan.

"Meanwhile, I failed… I had one, one job, and I failed…" Alan said to himself, looking back at the destroyed planet. To think he was so close to saving the world, yet to fall flat and so far. It was a feeling that ate at him with too little mercy awarded for his efforts, could he have actually done it? Perhaps, but given his state, given that it was too late now, he'd never know,

"Miss Fortune, this is 'Skybird' 1-2, coming aboard with the package, prep a medical team." The ship's pilot up ahead contacted their home vessel.

"You were all that was left down there and in spite of those odds, you did your best, that's all I, that's all anyone asks for." Vanessa reassured, getting up to grab the onboard medical kit to help Alan by clumping some bandages and putting additional pressure on his bleeding cuts with her own hands, covering them in his blood in the process.

"Yeah," Alan acknowledged, resting his head against the glass and remembering those words coming from another Pilot that he barely got to know, "He said that to me too…"

A.N.: Alas, it has come to an end. Thanks for waiting and thank you for sticking by up to the end! Can't guarantee there will be a third story (Unless we get a certain third entry released), but either way I hope this was an enjoyable read!

Until next time,

as always, enjoy!

~Firetoast312