The buck of turbulence woke Jack, and initiated the start of the combat video. Groaning quietly, he lifted a hand up and rubbed at his eyes; his fingers drifted down to worry at the oxygen mask he’d be forced to wear for majority of the flight. The edges of the thick rubber half mask had dug bright red furrows across his face, but it kept him alive, so he didn’t voice his complaints. He also knew every movement, every vital, every facial expression was being recorded by his employers; he knew better than to complain.

Shifting out of his harness, Jack stretched his sore limbs out before pacing over to where his armour was locked in place within a large metal rack. The armour clicked quietly as he approached; it’s access panels sliding back in segments so he could slip into its confines. The armour padding and probes pressed down on him until he was encased; a short moment later saw the large armour segments clicking back down into place. His HUD came alive across his eyes as the probes burrowed into his uplink points; he blinked rapidly to banish the electronic ghosts that played and span across his vision. A quick glance around saw about a dozen other Longbow survivors doing the same; they all went over their gear and armour, ensuring equipment failure wouldn’t be an issue in the field upon drop. Slapping the one hundred round helixical magazine into his upgraded Spiker rifle- Dubbed Grizzly Series v4 - the magazine seated cleanly, and the action slid on well oiled rails. “Armour, administer half dose of medication.” Jack blinked once for a flinch as a needle jabbed into his bicep, and the cocktail of drugs flowed into his system. The soothing embrace of morphine caused him to sigh in contentment. He panned the camera view around the AC-150’s massive cargo bay; the darkened cigar-tube was alive with movement as large armoured soldiers loaded weapons and worried over every aspect of the death dealing devices and life saving apparatus’.

“Head’s up boy and girls, boss man’s on comms.” The pilots voice was scratchy and tired. Unlike everyone in the cargo bay, he’d had to stay awake for the entire harrowing journey from Camp Bellen to Berlin, then over Easter Europe and what was left of China. Jack knew everyone would be paying attention, just as he was. The corner of his HUD shifted, and a small box appeared with an older gentleman within it.

Lee Chalmers, Operations lead of Hades Int. Experimental Longbow battle group was seated in what was probably a well furnished and air-conditioned bunker somewhere in Nevada. The man’s face had been shredded hamburger when Jack had met him years ago, but Hades had given him a new face, as they’d given Jack new legs. Lee’s fresh aquiline face smiled at him on the HUD. “Welcome to Japanese airspace ladies and gentlemen. Let’s begin our briefing.” He brought up a dataslate, and shifted through its contents. “You’ll all be splitting off into teams of two. Your current partners have been graciously lended to us by Germany, hence the pitstop in Berlin while some of you were asleep. Treat em’ well, they’re Panzer Elite.” Jack’s eyes shifted to the massive walker that was crouched down; hugging its knees to fit inside the cargo-plane’s hold. Its sensor module tilted toward him and bent in a form of greeting as the pilot sent a simple audio message to avoid interrupting the video briefing.

“Guten Tag.”

Operations Lead cleared his throat as he ran a pair of fingertips across his widows peak. “You’ll be acting as heavy cavalry, working interdiction on Slug lines and running smash ‘n’ burn operations. You will be given operational autonomy on this mission, but we will be watching. Cripple Slug supply lines, sow chaos, and give them hell.” Lee leaned forward a bit, and set down his slate. “All pertinent data has been fed to your armour’s VI. Any questions?”

Scanning over the info swiftly; Jack’s eyes didn’t lift when one of the panzer pilots spoke up. “Mein Herr, call on ze non-combatants?” He sounded young and his heavy accent skewed his standard, but there was no mistaking the timber of a trained and proven combat pilot.

“Do what you can, but do not, I repeat, do Not risk Hades Int property in pointless battles.” The statement left a bad taste in Jack’s mouth, and it left the observing Flitter with a painful thought. Does that man mean Jack when he says ‘property’?

Another question. “Sir, any blue dirtside?” Jack snorted derisively as he ensured his shoulder mounted micro rocket launchers were fully loaded with an assortment of high explosive party favours.

“Okinawa Marines, Second Battalion Dog Company, and Japanese City Defense Force. CDF is in a bad way, and Dog Company marines are in a staggered holding pattern to protect civilian EVA’s and Strat points. They are fighting a losing battle.” Jack made a face as if he was running a mental note as Lee concluded the briefing and closed the channel. Mid-thought, Jack felt a prod against his armoured shoulder. Cocking his head, he found himself staring at his heavy metal partner. The pilot opened a vid-com to Jack’s helmet without difficulty. He was older, easily in his early forties; the man seemed to hold himself with a calm, cool confidence of a seasoned veteran. The older man sparked a thin stogie, and puffed on it for a moment as the smoke was sucked away by a small fan.

Jack smiled as he looked over the walker; even hunched it made an imposing silhouette. His armour VI requested schematics, and was rewarded with a long list of technical information and military jargon. The King Battle Frame XR-97 was around four meters tall, weighed roughly one thousand kilos, and had an inch of Ceramisteel reactive armour over most of its chassis. The frame could lift half a tonne as easily as Jack could lift his rifle; all thanks to a complex hydraulics and biosteel ‘muscle’ cable. Weapon systems were varied per operator preference, but all of it was far beyond Jack’s pay grade, as it was all high end mil-spec German weaponry. If the frames ranged weaponry failed, pilots could easily transfer to melee combat, as the frame worked off of a cutting edge uplink system that afforded a near zero delay-time from order to output by connecting directly to the pilots brain via a plug at the base of the neck. The downside was a four hundred million Euro price tag, not including cost of weapons, upkeep, and the cost of the pilots themselves. Impressive. Flitter thought quietly as both she and Jack finished skimming the technicals. “So, battle-buddies on loan. Glad to see you guys are getting into the fight.” Jack stretched out his limbs; causing his armour to move in tandem.

The pilot nodded, a smarmy grin splitting his features and causing his cigar to bob and spew acrid bluey-purple smoke about. “Ja. I am Oberfeldwebel Hans Drescher. You may call me Hans, if it pleashes you. This is my König Kampfrahmen, Irma.” He patted the console before him with tender care; his control gauntlets were off, meaning he wouldn’t pat a hole in the planes fuselage.

“Well Hans, the name’s Jack. Gimme a run-down on the heat you brought today and I’ll do a quick check on my side of things.” Jack treaded over, and popped open a maintenance panel. Hans shifted in the video feed. He seemed almost uncomfortable with the fact another man was placing his hands on his frame.

Hans pulled the smoldering stogie from his mouth and pinned it between two fingers as he spoke. “Two one twenty millimeter spent matter projector cannons-” Jack whistled quietly as his eyes went up to the two compact cannon barrels that poked out on either side of the mech’s armoured shoulders. “-One Aegis Field Suppressor, you know it as ‘Chain-Bolt Ballista’.” A happy grin split over Jacks features, even as rough turbulence give the AC-150 a sharp kick in the ass. “Standard terror abilities, and a special something for close encountas. Plus, Irma had her servo’s upgraded last week, so we can tread at fifty kee-licks.”

Nodding in approval of the load out and general upkeep of Irma; Jack closed the panel and clambered up onto Irma’s back. A simple voice command mag-locked his legs and hips into the rider harness. His armours VI played nice with Irmas, and thus Jack was afforded a full 360 degree multispectral field of view thanks to his armours cameras, and Irma’s sophisticated sensor suite. “Right on Hans. She’s beautiful.” He patted the pristine warmachine, before muttering quietly to himself with his comm chinned off. “Riding goddamn Kraut space magic. I shoulda signed on with them for fucks sake.”

“Danke! I named her after my daughter.” Hans smirked, before both men’s attentions was taken by the appearance of a dim red light that bathed the cargo hold in an eerie crimson glow. The Crew Chief walked between the rows of Panzer Elites and Longbow soldiers, checking magnetic lock and slider release. He gave each pilot and rider a thumbs up when he finished. Hans swallowed, and attached his control gauntlets. When he rolled his shoulders, Irma mirrored him perfectly. “Ready, kompagnon ?” He grinned at Jack through the video feed.

Jack secured the mag-harness for his Grizzly rifle, before glancing to the image of Hans on his HUD. “I’ll be hammered on rice wine and chasing kimonos by this time tomorrow. You in bro?” He grinned a little too wide, but his enthusiasm was quickly met by the veteran frame pilot.

“Natürlich! Cannot wait to kick some fucking slug tail! Jak, let us go show these filthy creatures how humans fight and we get scheiße faced after while their corpses cool!”

“Hoo-Fuckin-Rah brother!”

Both men roared as they worked their blood up; the glowing red light shifted to a sharp green, and the door began to lower slowly. Air rushed out of the cargo-bay, and left everyone within it with a topside view of thick brackish grey clouds. The Crew Chief stood to the side and activated the sliders. Each Panzer Elite Combat Frame and its rider began a swift slide towards the ramp, before falling out. Jack’s heart rate raced as he and Hans slid forward, and the Crew Chief gave them a sharp salute. His heart jumped up into his throat as they plunged out of the plane, and Irma assumed a more aerodynamic position.

The air roared past his helmet so loudly even the audio dampeners couldn’t block it out; the sound of a massive beastial entity that wanted nothing more than to bat the HALO jumpers off course and send them hurtling to their deaths. Flitter sucked in a breath as Jack and Hans plunged through the thick cloud layer, revealing the literal hell that they had willingly jumped head-first into.

__________________________________________________________________

Tokyo was burning.

Simple as that, a city that once housed twenty million plus souls and led the market on Terran technology was now a tattered warzone. Even high up in the cloud layer, both Pilot and Rider could see the blazing fires that consumed entire skyscrapers; the plumes of smoke curled upwards like roiling black grave stones. Gargantuan towers of steel, concrete and glass jutted up to the sky like uneven grey tombstone teeth. Faint lancing anti-air fire could be seen arcing from all heights; some of it was focused solely on swatting the HALO jumpers from the skies. Pulling himself tight against Irma’s bulk, Jack could only pray quietly that they were lucky enough to reach the ground in one piece. Getting there alive would be a bonus.

The thick black-gray clouds flashed a brilliant lavender, and one of the jumpers was reduced to a flailing, blazing scrap that painted the clouds a brilliant orange and crimson. The rider was even less lucky, as the shot had fully penetrated the frame and blown him to bits. His legs and lower torso remained magnetically clamped to the falling dead frame; strings of entrails fluttering after the pair like streamers.

“There goes a billion euros!” Jack called out to Hans, before tucking further down between Irma’s cannons. Lances of iridescent light streaked past them, but soon the first building top gave them cover. Despite the cover, the fall lasted another full minute; the cover of sky-scrapers and choking smoke giving them a readily improving chance of not meeting any AA fire.

“Engaging chutes! Hang fast kamerad!” Within a moment, two massive stealth chutes deployed from Irma’s body, and her disposable repulsors fired a short brilliant burst to choke their rapid descent. Irma’s legs swung down to meet the ground with a muted thump; the broken pavement shattered under her weight. “Releasing chute and repulsors. Still with me Jak?” Hans’ pronunciation of Jack’s name was harsh and clipped; it felt appropriate.

“Still kickin it, Hans, outstanding drop. Conferring with higher for our position, hold for a tick.” Jack’s eyes flickered over the incoming and outgoing data as Hans piloted Irma through the broken japanese streets. After twenty seconds he knew everything he needed to. A quick burst to Irma’s VI shared everything he’d gleamed with Hans. “Looks like we’re right on target. Wanna go smoke those AA bats?” Jack checked his gear, and unlimbered his Grizzly.

“Jawohl! Let’s go clean the skies.”

_________________________________________________________________

Hans was forced to pilot Irma slowly through the debris strewed streets; micro-cars were abandoned everywhere, and hunks of destroyed buildings would sometimes block off entire streets. Occasionally they would skirt around clumps of bodies where unprotected civilians had been hit by hostile fire. The skies were a dull slate gray that blended in perfectly with the towering concrete monstrosities that pierced them. Fires burned in most of the buildings, but some stood like silent sentinels; they watched as their previous inhabitants were slaughtered.

Jack stared hard at the bodies that lay piled before the blocked entrance to an emergency shelter before speaking. “Hold on a sec Hans, I wanna take a look at em.” Without waiting for Irma to slow, he disengaged the magnets and dropped to the cracked concrete with the ease of an acrobat. His rifle jumped up; its muzzle followed his eyes as he paced forward towards the dead civilians.

“Fever Darts?” The German sounded incredibly uncomfortable speaking the words.

Carefully yanking a crystalline shard from one small childs shoulder, Jack sighed quietly and nodded. “Yeah. Looks like a cop took one and popped those four in cover before he succumbed.” Jack placed the toxic shard on the ground and backed away from the group cautiously. There were dozens of dead bodies laying in various positions; all of their faces were twisted in agony and bloated from the alien chemicals that had taken their lives. It was apparent at a glance that some had rather kill themselves rather than live with the agony the shards promised, as their bodies were the most intact; the least bloated and foul.

Hans growled quietly as he panned his Field Suppressor over the packed streets. Energy crackled across its pronged muzzle, causing the odd raindrop to sizzle upon impact. “Feiglinge!” His features twisted in unbridled fury, and he looked ready to spit and frothe at the mouth. “Even ve would never do something like zis!”

“Yeah.” The simple answer was all Jack could muster as he clambered back onto Irma’s harness. A chill passed down Flitters spine as Jack’s emotionless eyes lingered on the bloated, desiccated corpses of unarmed civilians. They hadn’t stood a chance.

“Let us move kamerad. We do no good standing here.” Hans nodded in agreement with himself, and once Jack was magnetized, he sent Irma’s armoured bulk plodding further down the street.

The pair travelled in silence for a few minutes, before the sound of Corvellan weapons fire echoed through the silent streets. Jack popped up from between Irma’s shoulder cannons, and fired up his quad-rotor drone. “Drone is up, homing in.” The drone hummed away as Jack piloted it with finger twitches and eye movements.

“Laz me the feed Jak.” Hans brought Irma under the cover of a small building whose roof somehow managed to remain standing despite its guts having been blown out.

“Right, one tick.” Jack turned his head ever so slightly, and triggered the light burst. The drone swooped between fluttering clotheslines of soaked and ruined clothing. The sounds of weapon fire was growing louder, but now it was being answered. The Zip-Pop of the alien guns seemed to be in a heated argument with Terran firepower that barked and snarled out echoing reports and chattering staccato beats. Jack sent the drone into a steep dive; swooping into a bombed out sushi restaurant. A bleeding CDF soldier was laying down impressive covering fire with what was normally a vehicle mounted weapon as a marine medic tried to stabilize a badly wounded civilian. A couple other CDF militiamen were scattered through the building, returning fire when the alien beams weren’t eating the air around them. Jack tilted the drone to get a better look at the forces they would be facing as the medic looked up at the buzzing drone.

“Hey! Reinforcements?” The medic sounded exhausted and far beyond the end of her rope. The thought of real aid looked as if it would be worth a lottery win to her. Jack didn’t respond through audio; a simple light laz to her helmet was enough. The medic licked her dry lips behind her cracked full face visor and nodded at the drone. “Hurry the hell up.”

Setting the drone onto automated low altitude recon of the battle, Jack glanced up to the vid-screen within his helmet. “Hans, if we head up two blocks and hit them through this building here-” He pinged their shared map. “-we’ll be behind the corvellans and their heavy weapons, some of their AA is camping here apparently.” The keening howl of Corvellan anti-air echoed through the streets, and the high powered beams disintegrated a micro-car on the drones feed.

The older pilot mulled the plan over, before shaking his head to scrap it. “Nein. We move up a block and a half, and come at them laterally from this building. Come down on their fucking heads.” The map was marked up with a bright green squiggle that marked the proposed route through what had been someone's home.

Jack set his jaw as he looked over the plan. “Both. We split up. I’ll take some of my charges and distract them from behind. When they turn their attention away from blues to me, you hit them from above, and then we both press in and catch them in a pinch.” A blue line was added to the map, and Hans pursed his lips as he nodded.

“Ja. Time for some revenge! Let’s go kill some slugs, Jak.” Irma’s Field Suppressor wreathed itself within the increased energy; it seemed like the entire frame was itching for purple alien blood.

“Initiate terror protocols when you hit the dirt, let’s break them!” Jack snarled, and Irma took off running.

__________________________________________________________________

In under a minute, they had reached the point where they would split up. Jack disengaged his harness and dropped to the street below; his legs flexing to absorb the shock with their built in hydraulics. The drone was still continuing its sweep, providing them with up-to-date data and positioning. “Come on Hans, let’s boogie!”

As Jack sprinted down the street, he could hear Hans laughing weakly in his ear. “Apologies, but… what is a boogie?” Jack snorted in response, and shook his head as Hans grinned. “I am in position. Blue will not hold much longer.” The joking attitude had all but disappeared; the sound of worry filled the pilots voice.

Coming to a halt near the edge of a ruined building where the Corvellan’s took cover, Jack tapped his comm twice, to signal he was in position. Without pause, he snuck forward from behind the enemy line. A light AA crawler was squatting on top of a large neon sign; it's repeating energy cannons were tearing the restaurant apart. Numerous light troops, and two Corvellan light walkers were present. The aliens were completely focused on wiping out the beleaguered squad, and were obviously not worried in the least about opposition. They were only light troopers, and they were notoriously cowardly, like the rest of the Corvellans. So when Jack tossed a magnetic AT shape charge onto the rear panel of the crawler, the troops before it were completely unprepared for the sudden crump of armour piercing high explosives; nor were they prepared for the sudden burst of chaotic energy that ripped the crawler to pieces from the inside. Jack burst from cover, and opened up with his Grizzly, just as Hans and Irma impacted the ground before a confused pack of light infantry.

Irmas armour plates shifted upwards and out, making her look like an even bigger target. The heat sinks within her armour glowed cherry red, giving the huge humanoid walker a truly menacing visage. The snarling roar of pure fury that emitted from the built in loudspeakers was icing on the cake. The light infantry panicked, and fired their weapons ineffectively as they retreated directly into Jack’s arcing line of fire. His rifle snarled and spewed death; super-heated sabots carved the avian-esque slug creatures to goopy chunks, and steam rose from their cooking bodies as he advanced. His own terror protocols made his armour mirror Irma, and also make him a massive target for any incoming fire. Jack advanced steadily through the weak hail of enemy fire; the muzzle of his rifle would buck and howl whenever it found a target, and a lightning fast steel dart would lash out to meet the enemy before introducing the broiling ball of plasma that followed in its wake.

The Field Suppressor whined just before it discharged a massive chain bolt of pure white energy; one that slammed into the first walkers torso plating. The bolt boiled through the armour, and the second chained bolt coiled around the target to strike its rear armour panels. The walker jerked and seized as its weapons fire arced up high into the empty air. Hans fired another two bursts into the mech, causing it to crumple into several slagged pieces. Another shot into its pilot compartment saw the end of the threat it posed.

Corvellan infantry scattered in every direction as they made their terrified warbling squawks. Very few escaped, as they were forced into CDF firing arcs and Jack's hunting gun muzzle. “Hans! Keep your eyes up for that second walker, I don’t see him on scope!” Jack pulsed the trigger of his grizzly once, carving a fleeing Corvellan in twain with vehemence.

“Ja! Eyes on! He’s mine-” Hans snarled savagely as the suppressor folded back neatly over Irmas right arm, and a large tower shield extend outwards from under the thick armour of her left. The second walker bounded over a massed pile of rubble and unleashed its weapons upon Irma. It’s energy bolts smashed into the shields surface, and merely marred it with cooking liquid metal and boiling paint. Jack grinned as he watched Irma deploy a massive 200 kilo flanged mace at the flick of a servo. Irma charged forward with savage human grace as Hans roared through the loudspeaker. “Komm zu Papa Hündin!” He smashed into the second walker shield first, forcing it to topple over backwards. Irma swung across with her flanged mace, shattering the delicate energy weapon the mech still clutched. Jack relaxed as his circling drone registered no smaller hostiles on his scope, just as Irmas mace began to cave in the mechs pilot berthing. The Corvellan mech keened as it was systematically dismantled; its broken pilot pulled from its seat to be dashed against a wall like an unwanted toy.

Fire from the ruined restaurant slowly ceased, and Jack could see the survivors poking their heads out to see what was up. “Yo! Hans! I think it’s dead!” Jack quickly checked his current ammo count, before resting the large weapon on his shoulder.

“Ja, ja. I am getting carried away...” Hans chuckled as Irma straightened and the ‘close encounta’ weaponry folded back up. “These worms were hardly worth the charges.” The mech’s articulated fist opened, dropping the bludgeoned remains of the mech-pilot. It hit the ground with a muted wet splatter; what passed for its guts spilled out in stringy heaps.

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah I can tell, you feeling medieval today or something? “ He couldn’t help but grin as he treaded over the broken alien bodies towards the restaurant. “Come on Hans, let’s go chat up the locals.”

The broken remains of the defenders cautiously stuck their gunbarrels out, before following with their heads. One of the CDF militiamen waved the all clear; and was soon followed by little more than half a dozen wounded soldiers. The combat medic that Jack had seen on his drone’s feed was the one who approached him, and seeing as how she wore the stripes of a buck sergeant, it pegged her as the highest ranking soldier in the group. She approached slowly with a limp; her body armour supported with a scrap metal brace. “Sir, Oni Squad at your service. Thanks for the save.”

Smiling behind his heavy ceramic faceplate, Jack rolled his shoulders. “Afternoon marines. You seem to be having issues with the new neighbors.” He chuckled lightly, but when he saw the dark expressions and dead-on-your-feet looks in the squads eyes, he cut the jokes without a word. “Right. We’re running interdiction on the Slugs. You have uplink with any ranking officer?” His eyes flicked over to watch Hans pilot Irma into a proper overwatch position. Between him and the roving drone, Jack felt safe enough to stay out of cover.

The medic shook her head, and rested against a hunk of broken concrete. “Not since the Slugs dropped in mass. We lost our comms booster to a Ripper. Last I heard, Colonel Wsu was leading a combined attack on their build-up points, but he was getting bogged down by fleeing civilians and lack of air-cover.”

Jack shook his head. “I get the feeling that they aren’t in his way anymore.” Chewing his cheek, his eyes swept over the squad. They all looked ragged; their weapons running on fumes and wisps. One of the older militiamen had what Jack assumed to be a Nodachi strapped to his back. He prayed it was mono-edged, but he doubted that it was. “Are you mobile?” The answer felt obvious.

The answer he received wasn’t what he expected, but it was better than nothing. The medic nodded, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Wombat combat car’s behind the eatery. We couldn’t run for it with those heavy weapons, they would have shredded us.” She straightened up with some effort. “Wherever you’re going, we’ll follow. If there’s anything left of Colonel Wsu’s forces, you should be able to pick them up fast on comms.” She forced a bloody-toothed grin as she hefted her own weapon.

Nodding, Jack eyed his radar, but was swiftly interrupted by a heavy german voice. “Jak! Head’s up, we have multi-contact!” The one-two hypersonic boom of Irma’s matter projectors vibrated the shattered concrete around their boots; every shot screamed out to meet hostile targets. The split-second retort of impact was like a sledgehammer blow against a drum of nitroglycerine; the acrid smell of burning ozone and hunks of debris were tossed back by the ferocity of the dual cannon impacts.

Wasting no time, Jack waved the beleaguered squad onward. “Go! Get mounted and lead us to Colonel Wsu’s LKL! We’ll follow up behind you!” Taking off at a lightning sprint; Jack bounded over the fallen hunks of concrete and strewn debris. “Hans! Fighting withdraw, we gotta buy the CDF boys time!” One last bound saw him zapped to Irma’s massive backside; a swift info-laz delivered the walkers data to him. A number of red blips appeared on Jack’s scope, and none of them were intent on going down quietly. Return fire was already dancing about; keen on striking anything Terran down.

Irma’s matter projectors spoke, and the babbling alien weapons suddenly went silent as the miniature mushroom clouds roiled out from between broken buildings. “Jak! They are taking cover, can you send heat?” The dust from the four spent matter shots was already screening them from sight, but Jack’s enhanced sensors picked the aliens with ease.

“Yeah, got just the thing!” He grinned maniacally as his shoulder launcher sprang up and swiveled on auto-target. A swift order saw a trio of HEAT rockets whip off his shoulder and into the smoke above him. Within seconds the rocket's arced down, and smashed into the tops of the Corvellan weapon platforms. “Hans, get our asses out of here!” The near silent whirr of rockets reloading into the shoulder launchers numerous tubes was eaten by the wailing sound that the matter projectors retort left in its wake, of air rushing back in where it had been violently evacuated from.

The medic sergeant's voice popped up on comms. “We’re mounted, are you coming or what?” The sound of roaring engines and rapid Japanese echoed through her call, but both Hans and Jack could hear the fight returning to the Sergeant and her bloodied squad.

Pursing his lips, Jack couldn’t help but chuckle thinly. “Why do I always get stuck with the mean ones?”

Hans rolled his eyes in the video feed as Irma pounded through the rubble and onto the street below. “Maybe you have poor luck, ja?” He smirked. “It seems you will need my help chasing Keemonos after all.”

“Oh fuck off!”

_________________________________________________________

The bruised convoy carried on through the broken streets of Tokyo; the Wombat combat cars bounced and jostled on their abused suspension, while Irma treaded smoothly behind them; weapons primed and scanners pricked for trouble to put down like a rabid dog. To Jack’s annoyance, the militiamen prefered to use their native tongue over Standard, and he didn’t feel like listening to his translator squawk about how their shit days were going. Passing by shattered store-fronts and numerous broken bodies; Jack fell into a lull, and allowed himself to catch a short catnap in Irma’s harness. Just as his eyes closed, he heard a much more authoritative voice speak in Standard over squad comms.

“This is Colonel Wsu, all surviving elements, report.” The Colonel sounded calm, cool, and collected. It was forced, obviously. Jack rolled his shoulders and blinked his eyes to focus.

The nameless sergeant keyed her comms and hailed the Colonel. “Colonel Wsu, this is Oni Squad Lead! Sir, we’ve picked up a pair of shit-hot operator's, grid A-23 AA is scrap, and we’re smoking. What’s the loc on our wire sir?”

There was a brief moment of silence before the Colonel spoke again; he sounded completely different. “Out-fucking-standing. I read you Oni Actual. I see your IFF. Sending co-ords to you now.” Jack’s eyes flicked to the shared map, and managed a smile as a green zone, or ‘wire’ appeared not six blocks ahead of them.

Opening a private channel to Hans, Jack steadied himself in the harness. “What do you think? Should we move on or see what’s what?” He checked his ammo count for the umpteenth time out of habit; his skin was starting to crawl and that was never a good sign.

Hans seemed to mull his options over on cam. “I say we see what is what. If they are all fucked up, then we move on. If they can help, we get said help, and finish objectives.” He wiggled his chin, before cocking his head down to scratch it on a strip of velcro that sat on his chest rig.

The blocks were starting to count down, and the green zone was drawing closer. Jack frowned to himself. “Have you gotten any comms at all from the others? Our guys, I mean.” He already knew the answer, but there was the slight chance.

“Nein. Not a peep. It is possible we may run into some when we attack these batteries, but… I do not know. Something feels off. There was eight of us dropping, there should be some contact.”

The ‘Wire’ was a ramshackle attempt at creating a safe zone for Terran forces to lick their wounds and deny total area control from the Corvellans. The area had once been a park, if the signs were any indication; it's playground now served as a raised lookout-tower that mounted quad anti-infantry weapons. Various tents and vehicles sat about with laser holes burned into them, and numerous troops shuffled around and guarded the makeshift compound. Shifting uncomfortably as the warped barrel of a Japanese main battle tank came into view; Jack couldn’t help but look away from the build up of damaged vehicles and injured personnel. “Yeah… we’ll keep our eyes on, keep in touch Hans.” Jack watched as the combat cars slowed, and the injured squad piled out. A jackbooted officer paced over, and started immediately debriefing the Sergeant. Disengaging his harness, Jack hit the pavement smoothly, and started toward the squad. “Keep eyes on Hans, and don’t let these guys chooch your smokes.”

“Ja, ja ja…”

Irma’s armoured bulk manouvered easily through the twisting lanes between vehicles and tents as Hans piloted her back to the front lines. Jack switched on his translator, and focused it on the officer and the sergeant. The officer was getting red in the face, and looked as if he were about to lose it. The sergeant's squad spread out behind her and edged forward like rabid dogs.

“You foolish Gaijin! You bring them down on us! Shame on your family, shame on-” The officer stopped mid sentence as a cybernetic hand gripped his shoulder, and a grizzled Colonel leaned over his shoulder.

“This is not your Sergeant to berate. She is mine. Now, leave before I remove you.” Colonel Wsu’s voice betrayed a lifetime of tobacco abuse and a love for western whiskey, it also told of how these luxuries had been painfully forgotten in the forge of war. As he closed in, Jack could tell that the officer on the receiving end of the ass whooping was air-force; if his ripped flightsuit was any indication. Said officer set his lips into a furiously thin line before coming to attention and swiftly marching away. The Colonel placed his gleaming black metal hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder as he spoke quietly to her. Wsu’s eyes flicked up to meet the power armoured form that was the approaching Jack; he patted the Sergeant’s shoulder, and ordered her to go rest. The unnamed Sergeant nodded tiredly, and waved her squad on as the Colonel turned to meet Jack. “I am Colonel Wsu, and I believe I have you and your partner to thank for saving Oni squad.” He waved Jack towards a large tent before he could answer. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

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The inside of the tent was filled with computers, physical maps, and the Colonels aides. The Colonel was a short, stocky man; like the rest of his people, but before the Jack he seemed pint sized. Placing the throat of a crinkled water bottle between his lips, the Colonel drank greedily and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before speaking. “Listen Soldier, I don’t know who you are, or what you’re doing here, so to start I would prefer some explanations.” He held a stylus between his fingers like one would a cigarette; it tapped idly at the desk that he leaned against.

Popping the seal on his helmet; Jack breathed in the smell of thick body odour and the acrid smoke of burning plastic and rubber. He let out a content sigh before speaking. “I’m Specialist Kessle, with Hades International. The heavy metal bastard tromping around outside is Oberfeldwebel Hans Drescher of the Panzer Elite. As for why we’re here, well…” Jack trailed off as he patted down his armours combat webbing, and produced a home-rolled cigarette. He stuck it between his lips and sparked it with a little battered zippo that proudly displayed the marine corp insignia. “We’re here to kill some fuckin' Slugs.”

Smiling thinly, the Colonel turned and placed his hands down on the table that dominated the center of the tent. Upon it was a holographic emitter that portrayed the city of Tokyo. “I see. Mercenaries.” He let the word hang in the air for a moment. “Regardless of your loyalties, I believe we can help each other.” He pointed at a glowing red point on the map. “That is Corvellan anti-air. They are keeping our air-cover grounded, and that means we are getting our shit pushed up around our ears. You’ve already destroyed one of four such vehicles, opening up this sector. I need you to kill those AA batteries so we can mount an assault on the Corvellan base of operations.”

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, causing the smoldering smoke to bop slightly. “Well, isn’t that helpful. We just so happen to be hunting AA bats.” He approached the table and scanned over it slowly. “You said you have air-cover? Intel said Japanese air got wiped when the Slugs dropped.”

“Your intel would be right. The air is from Brisbane.”

Blinking hard in surprise, Jack pulled the cigarette from his mouth and stared at Colonel Wsu. “Brisbane? That’s over seven thousand kilometers from here, how the hell are they gonna help any time soon?” Jack opened a channel to Hans, allowing the frame pilot to listen in.

Wsu smirked as he looked over the map. “Normally I would agree, but Australian Command has informed us that they have a full flight of High Altitude Hypersonic Ground-Superiority fighters fueled up and armed to the teeth. They can be here in a half hour once those batteries are silenced.” He looked up at Jack expectantly.

“Hags? The Aussies have Hags?” Jack chuckled. “Well then. I think we can lend a hand with your op, sir.” He snuffed the stub of a cigarette on his armoured greave before donning his helmet. “Is that location data up to date?”

Nodding, the Colonel focused the map on the area where the AA was based. “They have no reason to leave. We don’t have the forces to push them off their point, and they know it. Our main forces are still regrouping, so unless you can take care of them, they will continue to be a threat to all of us.” Wsu bowed, and set a hard look upon Jack. “Descend upon them like Hachiman, wipe them off of our planet.” He nodded, before picking up the snubbed end of Jack's discarded cigarette. “Good fortunes, Specialist Kessle.”

Exiting the tent, Jack found Hans already waiting for him. He opened a full vid-com before speaking. “You get the specs and update your map?”

Hans nodded on cam, and brought up the updated map. “Ja, Slugs have superior ground and emplacements, but their defenses are weak from above. This parking garage should give us an excellent view of the entire area.” The holo-ghost of a large parking garage pinged on the map before both mens eyes.

A wolfish grin spread across Jack’s features as the bones of a plan rose from his mind. “I got an idea. Tell me, how fast can you rain fire those cannons?”

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“Mein Freund, I am in position. There is a lot of ugly down there.”

The connection crackled slightly as the thick concrete impeded the signal for a split second. Jack edged along through the burned out ruins of a coin laundromat; his Grizzly slung over his back in favour for his mono-edged Ka-bar and a suppressed sabot pistol. “Copy, can you see all of the batteries?” He asked as he peeked out beyond the back door frame; the door lay in a melted heap on the ground before the frame. Ahead of his hiding place, Jack could detect the large build-up of Corvellan forces around their anti-air batteries.

“Nein, the third is out of my view. If I move, I fear they will detect me and open fire with the batteries. Irma will not survive that.” The statement was flat and heavy; leaving the rest of the responsibility upon Jack’s shoulders.

“Right. I think I can see it from here. Fire on my mark.” Jack pulled back and took a steadying breath. Chinning his mic off for a moment, he spoke. “Armour, administer half dose of morphine.” The needle pricked his bicep again, and his nerves calmed immediately. Chinning his mic back on, he stowed his pistol and produced a cylindrical shape charge with three magnetic ‘claws’. “Fire when ready Hans.”

ku-KOOOOOOOOOM-KOOOOOOOOOM

The blastwave from the one-two suckerpunch nearly floored Jack; the building around him spewed ash and dust as it threatened to collapse from the sheer explosive force it had endured. Not wasting a single moment, Jack bounded out from cover, and into the smoke filled intersection. The Corvellans opened fire in every direction, only to have another pair of one hundred and twenty millimeter spent matter shells crash down onto them. A split-second report emitted from the first AA battery, just before its containment failed and the vehicle went up like a self-destructive tesla coil; arcs of incandescent energy lanced out and struck down anything within reach. Despite the rolling ground under his boots, Jack carried on forward and the charge flew from his hand. It landed solidly on the rear exhaust panel of the third AA battery, and began its short timer. As he bounded between burning wreckage and pulverized alien bodies, Jack spotted something odd pulling itself from one of the more intact vehicles. The Corvellan hit the ground, and its six tentacle-esque legs coiled to cushion the fall. It soon pulled itself up to its full height, which put it well above Jack. The new creature warbled loudly, and Jack felt and tasted coppery blood fill his mouth. Without pause he sprang upon its back; his knife plunged down into its neck, and the creature keened in surprise and horror. Jack grabbed it by its un-armoured beak, and ripped the mono-edged blade through its soft flesh. The aliens keening noise was replaced by a wet gurgle as it flopped to the ground; it’s disembodied head followed with a wet slap. Turning on his heels, Jack bolted from the area just as the Corvellans were regrouping. The AT charge exploded the very moment he was out of sight; the pondering bulk of the AA crawler flipped over, crushing several troopers under it.

“Hans my man! That was beautiful! Come pick me up and let’s get back to Wsu’s forces. I don’t want to miss the party.” Jack grinned like a madman as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

His partner cackled into the vid-com. “Was für eine Anzeige! I’m on my way!” He laughed again. “Fucking beautiful!”

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Flitter pulled the helmet from her head and blinked rapidly as the electric ghosts of the burning city and terrible aliens faded from her vision. “wow…” She blinked slowly, before setting down the heavy helmet on the ground. Her eyes eventually wandered down to the snoozing Jack, a soft smile began to spread over Flitter's features as she watched him sleep peacefully. Without warning, and cold draft blew through the cave, causing the waning fire to tremble and for Flitter to shiver heavily. Her body was stiff and practically frozen from sitting still for so long; she pulled herself in close to the furnace-like warmth that was Jack. Smirking to herself a bit, Flitter stole some of the covers and cuddled up against her friend. She nuzzled him gently, and was pulled in closer by one of his tattooed arms. A brief sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes. “goodnight…”

Author's Notes:

Alright! I had planned for this chapter to be released with chapter 10, but it proved to be a bit bigger than originally thought. I also cut a bit of content to possibly use later if it's appropriate.

For those of you who don't really enjoy the full-Jack combat chapters, you'll be getting plenty of Flitter in the upcoming parts, so don't fret!