September 17, 13:26 Hours

"Movement, that's what keeps you alive. Training, that's what keeps you prepared. Determination, that's what makes you deadly." Drill Instructor Morrissey's words repeated themselves, like a mantra, through Cpl. Spencer's head as he ran for his life. Training doesn't prepare someone to take on a squad of Titans. Neither does it train someone to outrun the hulking machines. Spencer was smaller, more mobile, and he used this to his advantage. It was the only thing that kept him alive so far.

A few hours ago he and four other pilots were defending a bridge that connected the outskirts of the area that led to the large metropolitan heart of the city. They were tasked with supporting the two squads of infantry that were in the area. They had deployed in their own Titans, holding off the Frontier Militia's invasion forces. They had successfully defended the bridge as the area was evacuated, up until the point where the Militia sent in their own Titans. Spencer and his squadmates soon found themselves outnumbered three to one. They took down a majority of the Militia forces and their Titans but eventually had to fall back. Spencer elected to stay behind until his teammates had made it across the bridge to safety. Spencer fought in a four to one fight, taking one of his combatants down before being forced to initiate a nuclear overload in his Titan's power core, forcing him to eject from his doomed Titan. At the range his Titan overloaded he was sure he caught the others in the massive explosion. The corporal had hoped it would of been enough to stop or at least slow down the enemy Titans. However, Cpl. Spencer had to fight his way through several Militia fire teams that had gotten past him whilst he was preoccupied with combating the other Titans. By the time he had cleared the Militia fire teams, the hostile Titans had caught up, weapons trained on the young pilot.

Bullets whizzed past him as he ran for his life, kicking up large clouds of dust and asphalt as the explosive rounds impacted the ground around him. He saw an alleyway to the right up ahead of him. He put his worn body into overdrive as he kicked his jump kit into full power. He directed the energy to the right, as he neared the alley, sending Spencer tumbling down the narrow space. Spencer rolled mid tumble keeping his momentum as he approached a dead end. Ahead of him was some sort of building with a flimsy looking door.

'If I get enough momentum, I can probably ram right through that.' Spencer thought. However, not wanting to risk death in the event that he was wrong, he quickly shouldered his R-101C without losing stride. He fired off the last fifteen rounds in his weapon to the center of the door. The wood splintering and cracking as the 8.19mm rounds punched through the door and out the other side, leaving golf ball sized holes in their wake. Spencer threw all his weight and momentum into the weakened door, smashing through the door and into a small back room, obliterating the door in the process.

Spencer quickly jumped to his feet, to which his body protested. His entire body was worn out, muscles screaming in agony. He wanted nothing more than to just lie on the floor, however he didn't have that luxury. While the Titans wouldn't be able to fit down the narrow alleyway, nothing was stopping the pilots inside the Titans from jumping out and coming to kill him. Spencer couldn't rest, not until he knew he was safe. As he begrudgingly rose to his feet and made his way to the door across the room that led into the rest of the building, he unsheathed his knife, prepared for a possible confrontation. Spencer eased open the door, knife gripped with the blade facing the floor.

Inside he found a gruesome scene, several dead soldiers lay at the bottom of a stairwell. Their green and orange uniforms stained a deep red. The walls, ceiling and floor had blood splatters, along with a twisted, damaged wood floor, warped and scorched from where a grenade had gone off. Body parts of some poor individuals were strewn about the place as well,. Aside from the corpses and bullet shells, nothing of use was to be found. The corporal grunted in dissatisfaction as he surveyed the scene. Spotting a set of stairs Spencer adjusted his grip on his knife, as he headed up two by two, trying to be as quiet as possible, in case he was not alone. Radio chatter blared through his helmet as he climbed the rather lengthy flight of stairs:

"GUARDIAN ACTUAL, MY SQUAD IS DEAD! MY ENTIRE SQUAD IS DEAD, REQUESTING SUPPORT!"

"Request denied, a friendly fire team is nearby. Attempt to link up with them."

"Victor 2-3, this is Saber 6-1, friendlies deploying to your west, hold your fire."

"Affirmative 6-1, holding fi- OH SHIT GET DOW—"

"Victor 2-3, This is Saber 6-1, come in, over… Victor 2-3, respond…"

"Alpha 2-2, this is Saber 6-1, be advised, Victor 2-3 is not responding, possible hostile presence within your AOD, over."

"Affirmative 6-1."

"ENEMY TITANS ARE OVERRUNNING OUR POSITION, WHERE THE HELL IS OUR PILOT SUPPORT?!"

"Saber 6-1, this is Knight 1-4, please advise, my Titan is in dire need o—"

Spencer cut his radio off, it was distracting, as well as disheartening, his allies were getting their respective behinds handed to them on a silver platter, and there was nothing he could do to help. Besides, Spencer needed his head clear, he needed to be focused. Anything could be waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

As Spencer reached the top he was met with a long hallway that branched out to his right and left. Upstairs faired no different from the scene downstairs, however, uniforms of both white and green were strewn about, along with several dead specter combat drones. Spencer picked through the dead looking for anything useful but to no avail. He continued his slow, careful stalk and search until he came across a rare sight.

At the end of the left hallway was a dead pilot with a spent R-101C off to his side, barrel still smoking, and a Smart Pistol MK5 held in a death grip. The pilot sat slumped against the wall body riddled with bullets, the wall behind him a sea of pockmarks. Cpl. Spencer carefully went to the dead pilot, poking his knife into the pilot's trachea, just in case the pilot wasn't dead. When the pilot showed no response, he quickly went to work releasing the weapon from its currently deceased owner. The corporal kept his head on a swivel, constantly checking and rechecking the hallway. Just because the pilot was dead didn't mean it wasn't a trap. Many of the windows were big enough for someone to easily jump through, and perfect for a pilot to enter the building and get the drop on the currently preoccupied corporal.

After a few moments of literally prying something from someone's cold dead hands, Spencer was finally armed. Well… somewhat, the weapon only had ten shots left in the magazine, not ideal, but better than nothing. Spencer crept over to the window to take a look at his surroundings.

The Titans that were pursuing him were no longer visible, however the sound of their stomping and the earth shaking vibrations were still present. Their deep rumbles almost drowning out the sound of the battle taking place in the rest of the city and surrounding areas. This only offered a small reprieve, it gave him a spark of hope. He might be able to survive if he laid low and snuck his way through the area. Spencer glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was sneaking up on him. He then quickly turned back to make a tentative plan that would lead him out of the area and away from the Titans.

'A jump out of this window, roll behind the truck, dash across the street, jump into the second story window, run out the other side of the building, jump to the nearest rooftop and use the hei—' Cpl. Spencer thought before the sound of a door creaking open echoed from behind him. Spencer whipped around on his heel, Smart Pistol trained on the offending door. A surprised face peered from the crack in the slightly ajar doorway before zipping away and slamming the door. Spencer moved for the door as the sound of movement echoed up from downstairs.

He breached the door as his kick connected with the wood and steel door forcing it open and slightly bending the frame.

Cpl. Spencer weaved into the room weapon at the ready, his body coiled into a deadly spring of energy, prepared for the worst. His weapon quickly pointed to a group of figures within the middle of the small office room. Spencer's weapon however, failed to lock on as a deep Australian accented voice called out. "Friendlies! Don't shoot!" The man yelled as he raised his hands, weapon falling limp against his chest, suspended by his weapon's sling.

Spencer lowered his weapon and relaxed but only slightly. He looked to the group of soldiers, grunts as they were commonly referred to. They looked like they had just been through hell and back, most of them were wounded, and those who were not were tending to the injured. Spencer then turned to have a quick look around the room. Militia computers and equipment was stocked in the room. 'Well that would explain all the dead Militia...' Spencer thought to himself. He then turned back to the grunt standing before him, who had lowered his arms now that Cpl. Spencer wasn't going to shoot him.

"What happened here?" Spencer asked, turning to the man before him, who was scratching at his bandaged side.

The grunt looked up from his wound to regard the pilot, "A pilot," The grunt motioned to the hallway, "and two squads of our grunts had led an assault on a spy cell. Turns out, soon as the Militia launched their assault, they turned into a small command post." The grunt grumbled and let out a sigh, beginning to pick at his wound again before speaking once more. "Anyways, the blokes were decked out. Armed to the teeth. The pilot did most of the work, but we helped out too... Poor bastard… gave his life watchin' our backs while we pulled as much data as we could from these here Militia computers." He said, trailing off and gazing around the room. The grunt spoke again, "When we heard Titans we holed up in here... Anyways, we managed to pull everything onto an external hard drive, it should be over there, on the table." The grunt motioned to where a table and several weapons were propped up against the far wall of the room. Spencer strode over to the table and found a small black box, he pocketed the item in one of his many, now empty, ammunition pouches. He then picked up a spare R-101C which was thankfully fully loaded.

Cpl. Spencer looked over his shoulder as he stowed away extra magazines for his weapon. "Anyone downstairs?" He asked thinking back to the sounds he heard downstairs earlier.

"Nah mate… not that I know of… why?" The grunt responded, looking to the pilot.

At this the corporal frowned, "We might have a problem. I'll check it out, don't come out of this room no matter what. Lock the doors, try to wait till things calm down before you try and get out of here." Spencer said as he strode across the room, now standing in front of the door, he glanced over his shoulder again, staring at the grunt. "Got it?"

"Y-yeah… yes sir."

"Good." Spencer replied before quickly facing the door and silently opening it, stepping out into the hallway. He closed the door with a silent click and carefully made his way back to the staircase. Soon Cpl. Spencer was standing at the top of the upstairs stairwell where he looked down the stairs to see a Militia pilot staring back at him. The two were frozen, staring each other down, the orange glow of the Militia pilot's faceplate, illuminating a small space around him in the dim downstairs lighting.

Not wanting to see where the stare-down would lead, Spencer bolted down the hall, full sprint. The other pilot chasing behind him. Spencer whipped out his smart pistol, and switched off the munitions targeting system, he did not have time to wait for the handgun to locks on it's shots. Spencer fired off three bullets behind him as he jumped out the closest window. The corporal activated his jump kit at the apex of his arc, giving him the extra propulsion to make it into the building next door's third floor window. Spencer caught on to the ledge but his exhausted body was slow in hauling him up and into the building while gave the other pilot time to catch up. As Spencer finally managed to pull himself into the building he began to run forward again. However, the floor ended abruptly in front of him.

Where the rest of the floor for the third story hallway should be was a massive hole. The entire side of the building was missing, exposing the inner hallways and rooms to the shopping center and streets below. Cpl. Spencer didn't have time to consider an alternate route as a heavy force collided with him from behind, knocking him and his attacker to the hallway on the second floor.

Spencer slammed into the ground chest first, landing on a pile of rubble, knocking the wind out of him in the process. The Militia pilot landed on top of Spencer, preventing the corporal from rising. Spencer soon found himself in a choke hold, neck locked in between the elbows of the other pilot. Spencer grunted in a fit of rage, 'I did NOT come this far to die like this!' He screamed internally, firing off his jump kit at full force, severely burning the Militia pilot. The Militia pilot released Spencer, snapping up in a yelp of agony that transitioned into a deep roar of primal anger. Spencer too, jumped to his feet, arms up and ready for a fight.

The Militia pilot swung out in fit of rage, swinging wide, aiming for Spencer's head. Spencer ducked under the extremely telegraphed attack and answered with a series of jabs to the pilot's chest and abdomen. The pilot screamed out as his tender, burned flesh took a series of blows. Spencer ducked under a left jab the pilot threw out in response, only to place himself in a collision course with the pilot's knee.

The force of the impact snapped his head back with a resounding crack, as knee guard met helmet. Spencer was dazed only for a moment, but that proved more than enough time for the Militia pilot to rain blows upon Spencer, laughing maniacally the entire time. The corporal regained his composure as he blocked one of the Militia pilot's punches. Rising with an uppercut followed by a quick sweep of the leg, Spencer managed to knock the Militia pilot off his feet. Spencer pounced the Militia pilot, pinning the other man to the floor. This fight was over.

Spencer snatched his Smart Pistol from where it had been holstered, putting it to the side of the other pilot's head. Spencer pulled the trigger, causing blood and bits of brain, skull and helmet blow out the large exit wound on the other side of the Militia pilot's head. Spencer cleaned a bit of blood that had sprayed onto his visor.

Spencer threw his head back and sighed, "Oh God… I hate hand-to-hand combat.." He said to himself before holstering his Smart Pistol and clambering off of the twitching corpse. Spencer switched his radio back on, as he dusted himself off, staggering into the nearest room. After a quick sweep of hostiles that turned up negative, he sat down in the most comfortable looking chair in the room. He looked out of a massive window that dominated an entire wall of the room. It overlooked a large, well maintained park with a small outlet of stores. If it weren't for the empty, evacuated atmosphere, or the sounds of war, this place would have been a peaceful, beautiful place. Spencer sat in silence. He was battered, bruised and exhausted, and reveled in the moment of rest. Spencer sat gazing out the window for some time, watch the branches of the trees sway in the wind. Eventually Spencer rose to his feet, feeling a bit more rested.

Cpl. Spencer placed his right hand to the side of his helmet, pressing the radio receiver's buttons. He flipped through multiple channels until he tuned in to the channel designated to his squad.

"…Watch out, MCOR grunts on your 9 o'clock."

"Got it… threat neutralized."

"Torrento, covering fire, I'm moving across the street. Headed towards the data tower."

"One sec' gotta six this Titan…"

"Don't worry Fannuchi, I got your back, go for it."

Spencer listened intently, from the sound of things, his squad had made it out okay. The sound of battle was distant, but not too far off, perhaps three, four city blocks at most. He smiled, his squad was close enough for him to link back up. He moved into another room, sweeping the room and checking his corners. The room he entered had another large window, common of most of the buildings in the city. This window overlooked a large three way intersection, littered with abandoned vehicles, some of them with doors ajar. Spencer crouched down as a group of Militia grunts ran by in the streets below. When they didn't turn to look at him, he stood back up and watched them continue down the block. 'They're probably reinforcements for that data tower…' Spencer mused, then he looked to their weapons. 'Uh oh… Archer Rocket Launchers… I should probably let my squad know.' He concluded, reaching up to turn his microphone on. However, as he did so he noticed the looming shadow cast into the room.

He slowly turned to the window to look down the barrel of a 40mm Cannon, wielded by a Green Ogre class Titan. Spencer visibly cringed at the sight and gulped before muttering a nervous, "Oh shit…" Inside the Ogre Spencer just knew it's pilot was grinning like a madman. For the second time today Spencer escaped certain death as he activated his jump kit, throwing himself across the room, narrowly avoiding the massive bullet that tore a man sized hole in the floor. As Spencer dove to the floor he switched on his microphone, throwing out a fist sized emergency beacon. "I'M UNDER FIRE FROM A HOSTILE OGRE, NEED SUPPORT NOW!" He barked into the mic.

"Oh, what?! Damn man, thought you were dead!" Came back a response. Spencer recognized the voice as his childhood friend Alex Gomez.

"I'm about to be, if you don't get your ass over here!" Spencer shot back.

"Yeah… hang on man, I'm activating my dash core now. Be there in a sec'." Gomez responded, before the transmission ended.

Cpl. Spencer got up as he dashed out the room and bolted down the hall he fell into, bullets chasing him on the way out. As the pilot strode down the hall in large bounding steps, bullets obliterated the space behind him. Spencer was finding himself out of hallway to run down and fast. Sweat started to pour down his face and his mind started to race as he neared the end of the hallway. 'Ohshitohshitohshit! This is it!' Spencer thought as he ground to a halt and shut his eyes. He flinched as a loud bang emitted from the Ogre. However, he was not in excruciating agony, or dead. Curiosity forced him to open his eyes when he heard the sound again.

Much to Spencer's delight, he watched as a tall, lanky, almost skeletal, white Stryder class Titan rear its fist back and strike out at the Ogre. The Ogre dashed backwards, narrowly avoiding the Stryder's third punch. The Ogre then replied with a trio of 40mm Cannon shots fired in rapid succession, the rounds making a loud popping sound as they impacted the Stryder's energy shield.

The Stryder returned fire with its own weapon. It wielded the XOTBR-16 Heavy Chaingun, essentially an oversized belt fed Light Machine Gun. The Stryder emptied the entire sixty round drum in a matter of seconds. The 20mm slugs chewing through what remained of the Ogre's shield. The Stryder then dashed back and around a corner as it reloaded the massive weapon.

The Ogre, now with a larger threat on its hands, reloaded its own weapon, and pursued the Stryder. However, as the Ogre reached the corner of the street, the Stryder came around from behind. Blue flames and exhaust trailed the Stryder as it dashed back around the block. The Stryder opened fire again, half of the weapon's magazine striking the Ogre before it managed to turn around and defend itself.

Several 40mm rounds slammed into the Stryder, quickly depleting the Titan's shields. Spencer took advantage of the situation, unclipping the Sidewinder Anti-Titan weapon. It fired micro-rockets in a fast, fully automatic fashion, and he still had half a magazine of ammunition left for the weapon. Cpl. Spencer lept out the window, firing his Sidewinder the entire time. The rockets streaked towards the Ogre, explosive warheads warping and charring the Titan's armor, and damaging the mech's systems underneath.

Spencer landed with a roll as he threw the empty weapon away. The Ogre was beginning to smoke and spark as the Stryder and the other Titan exchanged shots. The Stryder, while it was more agile and had dodged many of the Ogre's shots was suffering from the sheer power and lack of armor when the rounds did manage to hit. At this point the battle could go either way, Spencer needed to shift the tide before things went south.

Spencer jumped up, activating his jump kit at the apex of his arc, landing atop the Ogre before clambering towards the rear of the machine. Gomez in his Stryder, started firing in slower, more accurate bursts, in fear of hitting Spencer with a stray bullet. Meanwhile, Spencer ripped the access hatch off of the Ogre. Normally used for ease of access to the machine's power core control and hydraulics system for field tune-ups or repairs. However, this was also a weak point, which Spencer was about to exploit.

Spencer shouldered his R-101C, but before he could fire the weapon he had to readjust his grip as the Ogre dashed to the side, moving erratically, trying to dislodge the pilot. "No free rides, asshole!" A female voice called out through the Ogre's external speakers.

Spencer readjusted his rifle and depressed the trigger, "Fuck you, bitch…" he chuckled, emptying the rifle's entire magazine. Just then he was flung from the Titan, entire body screaming silently. From the ground he was convulsing upon, Spencer watched as electricity and smoke billowed from the Ogre. Spencer gritted his teeth as he struggled against his unresponsive, spasming muscles. "Spencer you okay?!" the corporal heard in his head, it sounded distant, unfocused, yet everywhere at the same time. He could only groan in response. Spencer's senses slowly returned to him, his short range radio was damaged, allowing him to hear both sides of the conflict's chatter. Spencer dismissed this however, a splitting headache taking priority. He watched on in a dazed stupor as he slowly stood up, his muscles finally acting as he commanded them to. He watched as the Stryder emptied another clip at point blank, heavily damaging the Ogre.

Just then the Ogre burst into flames, followed by an explosion and a sound of pressurized air escaping. The Ogre pilot had ejected from her doomed Titan. Spencer had just enough sense to activate his stimulant system, a cocktail of adrenaline and steroids coursing through his veins. A wave of euphoria washed over him as he was chemically cured of his debilitating system shock.

Spencer snapped his weapon up, following the smoke trail of the ejection seat, scanning the skies for the enemy pilot. However, they were nowhere to be found. "Gomez, stay sharp, that pilot's cloaked." Spencer called out through his damaged radio. Spencer ran into an overhang of a nearby building, making himself less of a target for the ejected pilot. He waited, with no sign of the pilot he turned his attention to the pair of Titans. The Ogre, still ablaze, was wildly firing its weapon, making jerky movements as its Auto-Titan Operating System struggled to control the dying behemoth. Eventually the power core went supercritical, the Ogre seeming to radiate a hot white before collapsing on itself then blowing up like a massive fragmentation grenade.

Spencer flinched away from the explosion, raising his left arm to shield himself from the explosion. "Alright! Nice work Gomez." Spencer cheered.

He looked to the Stryder as the hatch opened and Gomez jumped out, his Stryder switching into Auto-Titan mode. Gomez jogged over to where Spencer was, scanning the environment for the recently ejected pilot.

Once Gomez reached the corporal he looked him over. "Damn man… you look like hell." He spoke out.

"It's been a rough day." Spencer chuckled with a small sigh.

"Yeah man, day isn't over yet though…" Gomez said, adjusting his Assault harness.

"Unfortunately."

They shared a short, dry laugh. Soon a loud boom, followed by the iconic crackling of air-break thrusters of a Titan being deployed filled the air, followed by another and another. Gomez's Stryder walked a bit closer, tracking the Titans as they streaked towards the earth. "Alert: Enemy Titan deployment detected. We are outnumbered three to one." His Stryder blared over the external speakers.

"Hey, can you get me eyes on?" Gomez asked as he climbed back into his Titan.

"Sure thing, buddy." Spencer replied, moving out of cover, jumping then using his jump kit to propel him onto the rooftop of a nearby building. Once on the rooftop he moved to a good vantage point, using his helmet's built in binoculars. "Alright, they got… three Atlases, Quad Rockets and XOTBR-16s. About… uh, 200 meters or so away." Cpl. Spencer relayed to Gomez. Spencer couldn't even hear Gomez's response as his radio intercepted the Militia radio chatter.

"…Bishop, you okay? Heard you had some problems." Spencer's radio intercepted.

"Yeah I'm fine." A female voice replied, Spencer recognized the voice, it belonged to the pilot from the Ogre. "These guys have a Stryder."

"That it?" A third voice came over the radio. The voice was gruff, older sounding, angrier.

"No, there is a pilot on foot as well." The female voice, Bishop replied. "That asshole is mine." She said anger lacing her voice like venom.

"Aww… what happened he not call you back after the first date?" The younger male voice chided.

"Bishop? On a date? Please… we all know Bishop's sex life is nonexistent." A third voice joked, to which the two younger male voices laughed.

"That motherfucker wrecked my Ogre. Assholes." Bishop growled.

Spencer shook his head, looking to the streets to where Gomez had positioned his Stryder within an intersection. "Hey, I'm going to set some det-charges, cover me." Spencer called, taking one last look at the approaching Titans before leaping from his vantage point and to the streets below. He placed several detonation charges along the street and vehicles in strategic places.

"Alright, calling down my Titan," Spencer stated to Gomez as he switched his radio to the Command and Deployment channel. "Saber Actual, this is Omega 5-1."

"Omega 5-1, this is Saber Actual, go ahead." An older voice replied, it belonged to Lieutenant Arnold Durrett, he was in command of Titan and Specter deployment in this area.

"Saber Actual, this is Omega 5-1, requesting deployment of a Atlas Class Titan to my position, also requesting an ammunition drop."

"And would you like fries with that, 5-1?" Durrett joked. Spencer chuckled. "Don't worry 5-1, I've put your request through. Good hunting, Saber Actual out."

"Omega 5-1, this is Saber 1-1, standby for Titanfall."

Spencer looked as a marker displayed on his flickering Heads Up Display, alerting Spencer to where his Titan would land. Spencer looked to the sky as a fireball followed by a thick plume of white smoke streaked towards the ground. He heard the airbrake thrusters fire off in rapid succession a few hundred feet from the ground, before they detached from the Titan just before it struck the earth. The Atlas landed in a crouch, a XOTBR-16 attached to its back by magnetism. The Titan's deployment bubble shield kicked on as a massive cloud of dust was kicked up and the world shook from the impact.

Spencer rushed to his Titan, sliding between its legs, the Titan gently scooping him up and placing him into the cockpit as he cleared the Atlas' legs. "Transferring controls to Pilot. Welcome back, sir." Spencer's Titan's Operating System greeted him in a warm British accent.

"Hello, Jeeves, we are going to have a bit of fun, you and I." Spencer said, flicking various switches and buttons as the front hatch locked into place, the digital viewport flickering to life.

"Very well, sir." Jeeves replied. "Alert: I'm detecting hostile Titans, we are outnumbered three to two."

"I'm aware of that, Jeeves." Spencer said running a quick systems check. Cpl. Spencer then switched back to his squad's radio channel. "Alright Gomez, lets concentrate our fire, stay mobile, communicate. We've got this."

"Alright, lets get this over with." Gomez huffed back. His voice suddenly perked up, "This is going to be one heck of a battle! They aren't going to stand a chance."

"Alert: Hostile Titans closing in on out position. 70 meters and closing." Jeeves warned Spencer. 'Alright… lets do this…' Spencer thought as he repeated the mantra.

"Movement, that's what keeps you alive. Training, that's what keeps you prepared. Determination, that's what makes you deadly."

"Determination." He muttered.