“Everyone get ready here they come!” Beside me Trombley’s war machine stomps behind a rise in the hull for cover. A rotary cannon unfurls itself from the machines left icarus mounting, and beside it a missile pod was brought to bare.

Inside of the armored chest of Habu I feel powerful, like all of the hardships in my life never happens, like I was never been a slave. The scent of the male who lead to my freedom fills the cockpit of the machine. Now I can truly understand why my dearest one rarely leaves his machine’s side. And now his newest machine now stands between Trombley and myself, it's AI operating the white and red machine.

“Pilot Mii’ora, I recommend you take cover, my chassis possesses more armor than your older model. I will draw the fire from you both.” Fallons mech says over squad chat. I join Trombley in cover and level my rifle towards the incoming hostile fighters. My own Icarus pylons swivel into place bringing my auto cannon and gatling to bare.

Just ahead of us Fallon's larger ATLAS-3 SD-6624 deploys its ballistic shield from its left arm and angels it while brings its autocannon to bare. Behind the machine two L-blades snap out from their Icarus mounts forming an M shape with its torso and the blades that hung behind it.

Unlike the Atlas 1s, Bs, or 2s, the 3s look purpose designed to be used against both the UEC and Lankys. Not like the Atlas one and 2s who still possess the air of a rather dexterous and rambunctious industrial vehicle.

Their chassis are slightly larger still resembling a human male slightly without a head. But standing at twenty feet as opposed to the fifteen of my mech and other like it. Besides being about three times stronger than the older models the do to new miryala innovations in hydraulics.

She had done her research and the real changes were in the armor and armorement. Integrated retractable arm mounted gatlings, flamethrowers, a missile launcher, and a melee spike, in both arms. As well as a ballistic shield in the left arm and a magnetic shield in both as standard, joined by a more complete neural synchronisation system. Allowing the user almost seamless integration with their mech via an optimal omniosis chamber known as a womb.

“Here they come sis.” Trombley says and almost on cue the three red glowing dots rapidly approaching our ship resolve themselves into three Lanky Flayed fighters. The three fighters maneuvered into an inverted triangular formation.

“What the hell are they doing?” A voice tagged as “Ladybug” asked. But just as the entire port side of the ship was about to begin firing the odds changed.

A series of flashes behind the flayed appeared and revealed themselves to be three squadrons of trident fighters. “Shit! Take an down!” someone else marked “Blast” yelled over the tac-link.

“Shit, All units this is Orca, break off into groups of three and pick a sector. Stand by to repel boarders.” As he spoke the point defence cannons began firing into the approaching fighter squadrons.

Neither Trombley or I had time to think as faster than we could normally react we turned as one and shredded an incoming trident with our gatlings. A shadow flew over us and as a second trident fame flying at us from another direction a black blade came slashing across the hostile fighter and cutting it in two.

“I will have your backs pilots.” Sid said as with one smooth motion it turned and fired its cannon into another fighter destroying turning into an expanding fireball.

”Merde!” acting quickly I begin jinking my fighter into a series of turns and dips to avoid the incoming PDC fire from Galactica. Beside her I can see the Manitoba and what's left of COG fleet 32 were the first to launch their own interceptors.

A a thought of Fally flashes through my mind as I flick the firing selector and begin pupil track targeting. I steady my breathing as twelve target locked squares appear on my HUD. A cluster missile popped from its position on my wing as I pressed the firing stud. I watched the missile streak forward before splitting open and launching its payload of twenty four mini missiles, all of which leapt from connecting arms and corkscrewed towards the twelve targets.

Beside me Doll did the same and in a flash twelve of the twenty eight targets we had selected vanished in brilliant explosions. But the rest were too close to the fleet now. And affew were now swarming around the Galactica like flies.

All across the mighty siege destroyers hull PDCs and mechs fired into the growing swarm. But as the swarm grew she started to see forms leaping from larger tridents and onto the hull of the Galactica, like paratroopers.

“Galactica this is Icequeen…” I sent banking around one of the escort frigates. A missile locked Icon flashes across my screen and I goose the engines flicking the selector and shift my Gungnir into valkyrie mode. “Go ahead Ice Queen”

The glowing red Lanky missile came into view as I turned and tracked it with my wrist cannon. The distance rocked closer and closer and at the last second I fire the directional thrusters and burst to port. The lanky missile flies passed and begins its flip to continue its pursuit but is met by a trail of grenades from my canon and disappeared.

Turning back to fighter mode I fly across the surface of Galactica entering valkery mode and aiding a struggling of what must be green Atlas pilots. “Be advised, I am seeing Wendigo and sirens landing on your hull.”

Almost to make my point another of the fat Tridents flies over head discorging wendigo who descend onto the hull. Thick cords trail off of the trident and the individual Wendigo before disconnecting.

“Acknowledged.” In response one of the PDCs turns its rotary cannon from the black and sweeps a trail of glowing white tracers across the Lanky line. Like a large angry god trying to dislodge itself of ticks.

“Shit, beluga six you have one on your tail.” I say banking my fighter hard to starboard.

“I can't shake ‘em!” the avenger pilot from Manitoba yelled into the link. “Hehe...Target Locked.” The childish voice said now on an every channel. Over the crest of the ship I can see the two flipping around one another the Flayed both more maneuverable and faster than the Avenger.

“Lock this bitch!” the pilot replied flipping his fighter on its axis and deploying his laser canon. But his only shot went wide missing the Flayed by mere meters. Panicked he fired three missiles towards the Lanky.

“Pas assez bon.” a new male voice said and In response the Flayed burst forward on twin cones of red plasma. The fighter’s bottom two thrusters burst forward forming legs as the flayed entered its bastardized version of infantry mode. ‘What that's my maneuver?’ I say to myself as the flayed begins destroying the missiles before ending by firing a bone spike into the cockpit of the Avenger.

“Taarget destroyed…. New targets acquired.” The voice said before I followed its line of sight to a cluster of three ATLAS mechs. One sported the generic AI icon, but beside it were the callsigns Habu and Camouflage on the smaller mechs. Miiora and Trombley were in trouble and they didn't even know it.

“Camouflage, Icequeen: be advised you have a Flayed inbound as vector twenty six, thirty two, mark nine.” I say in transforming my fighter and burning hard for the flayed. To their credit the back to back mechs of Miiora and Trombley didn't even turn to face the threat. Instead they let their shoulder gatling’s network link to the tac-link.

As one the multi barreled heavy flechette gatlings swivels to track their new target. As one they spun up and twin streams of white tracers lanced out towards the fighter, which was too close to maneuver.

Twin lines of flechettes stitched a line across the stubby nose and port wing of the fighter but failed to destroy it. Instead it turned away trailing smoke and what appeared to be glowing red blood. Something was obviously damaged and it blinked away, reappearing somewhere else in the fleet.

Satisfied that my friends were safe I spared one final glance towards their mechs. Trombley and Miiora were still back to back firing on any passing fighters and wendigo, or sirens. While the deadlier form of Fally’s new ATLAS-3 literally tore the head off of one of the shovel heads, and spiked it into the deck. The rumors are true the 3s relay are meant to be as much psychological weapons as well as physical.

As I banked around destroying two more tridents I could see a fireteam of MOTH’s all in the new ATLAS-3 fairing a hell of a lot better than their compatriots. One atlas, green in color and marked as “Amp” pinned a wendigo to the hull and tore an arm off before throwing the appendage at another lanky.

Stunned lanky raised its weapon only to retrieve a cannon shell to the chin. Blowing its lower beak off and sending it thrashing to the hull, where another Atlas marked “Rage” crushed its head with a stomp.

But what got my attention the most was that almost in every MOTH and Helldiver group there was always at least one mech with an L-blade. And always at least one of those blades was glowing, an evil red.

And as I destroyed a third, fourth, and fifth I couldn't help but notice that the ones with the glowing L-blades seemed different sort of, almost feral in the way they fought. In fact thinking back I seem to recall Fally fitting both his power armor and mech L-blades, in fact his Atlas-3 has two if I remember correctly. But when fally’s mech used them they weren't glowing, wired.

“Allert, allert borders on decks twelve and six bulkheads twenty and nine.” A voice said over the 1mc as I finished connecting my breast plate around my cephalothorax and retrieved my machine gun from where it floated in the air.

“What the fuck is going on? No seed ships, no claw ship, and only fighters. This goes against every lanky strategy we've ever seen.”

“Collin, Akeno, Levoy, Parkins, and Watkins, Fallon we’re to move to bulkhead twenty one. Lets go kick the shit out of the shovelheads. Durge lead ‘em out!” The Lieutenant Fick commanded.

As I exited the doorway three humans in power armor sprinted passed. Their boots allowing them to mag lock to the walls and sealing in the zero gravity environment. Allowing the black armored Moths to pass I crouched and launched onto the opiate wall landing claws first.

Behind me the humans of Fick’s command squad begin leaping onto the hallway behind me. Eyeing them through my rear facing eyes I see Fick give me the advance hand signal and I begin skutleing down the passage.

The minutes pass as we pass bulkhead after bulkhead and the strange human Levoy spoke up. “Boarders have breached the line and are one bulkhead away. I recommend we set up here, it's a bottleneck.”

“Agreed, let's get ready, overlapping fields of fire, here, here and here.” Fick says marking points on our heads up displays.

A commotion from farther up the line drew our attention. As I shifted my machine gun in that direction the squad of Moths from before land at the intersection joined by affew marines and Helldivers. Their armored boots slam into what would be the wall and the six moths turn their weapons back up the corridor they had just vacated. Giving them the appearance of laying on their backs and shooting over their heads.

“Hay! On your six, Fallback!” the moths as one fire grenades into the hallway before leaping backwards, drifting towards our position. The marines and Helldivers follow suit and soon our impromptu firing line stands almost twenty strong.

“Steady,” Fick says as the first dead siren slaps into the bulkhead. But at that moments a MOTH in power armor slammed into the bulkhead the cloud of blood and other viscera around the area of the intersection. Parkins was about to call out to the socom trooper but one of the Helldivers held him back, as the human turned in our direction.

“What the fuck?” command sergeant major Fallon asked nobody in particular. The armored gauntlets of the MOTH were both broken and wicked claws extended from the forearms. Those claws looked as sharp as mine, and where whitish in color.

The MOTH reared back and let out a whale that threatens to shatter auditory organs. While behind the creature a black blade snapped from its shoulder housing. The blade pulsed an evil red and the mount flared the blade out as the creature in the armor screached. A small cloud of what looked like glowing red fireflies floated around the monster.

“Engage!” one of the humans shouts.

Hundreds of flechettes and grenades strike the creature like a wall. It's armor seems to absorb the blows at first but soon its defenses are overwhelmed and it explodes as an ALHO round hits it square in the breast plate.

As we are about to launch more grenades around the corner a wave of dead lankys slams into the bulkhead. “What the fuck?”

“On your right sis.!” I send to Miiora shifting my mech around and blasting a Wendigo with my auto cannon. The chest of the lanky explodes outward sending it flying from the hull and into space.

Beside me Miiora waves between the bone spikes of two lankys before coming to rest in a low crouch. Her mechs auto cannon and gatling swivel and fire on the lankys tearing them to shreds as she sweeps grabs a siren and crushed it in her free hand.

I can't help but notice how much skill not just Miiora but Tymerians in general could use mechs. As I bashed a wendigo to the hull and stomped on it with my two thousand pound foot. I attributed their skill to their enhanced same of special awareness. But I can't help but wonder how much a mech piloted by a Tymerian could benefit from a tail, as I watch her perform a maneuver that would be a tail smack if an atlas had one.

Seeing a target I sprint forward and fire my jets. ‘Pilot: Incoming hostile at vector 345.21y53.’ my mech told me.

Twisting 180 relative southeast on my x axis I bring my rifle to bare before shooting a trident fighter. The lanky biocraft explodes forcing me to deploy my ballistic shield to block the wreckage.

Without skipping a beat I fire my thrusters again slamming back into the hull behind the lankys engaging Miiora. Off to my left I can see SD swiveling its twin arm goatlings into position and pointing one of its fists towards the group before sending me the ready signal.

As one the three of us catch the lankys in a crossfire. Flesh and chunks of red and black blood burst from their bodies as we kill them. When the last lanky falls SD networks our mechs and as one we turn our weapons on one of the Flayed fighters.

The flayed had been engaging an avenger pilot callsigns “Snow”. The Idea had been sent down from one of the MOTH teams. And as flayed comes into view every weapon this side of the ship swivels and fires on it.

Unable to avoid the incoming fire the alien fighter explodes in a flash of brilliant red light. As the light dies down red particles glitter the area where it had been. And a full third of the lankys simply die out right, falling over or going limp in space, easy pickings for our fighters.

Seconds later another third of the fighters goes limp as a flash of crimson can be seen from elsewhere in the fleet. The last group of lankys begin acting strange. Instead of attacking they begin to wander around like we’re not here. Even the fighters start to just fly around not firing on anything. “What the hell is going on here?” One of the pilots ask no one in particular.

“Unknown, but there is no doubt in my mind that last fighter has something to so with it. Someone bring it in.” The skipper says over the net, but a burst of activity fills the background of his transition.

“All hands this is the skipper New contact incoming baring constant 32q.453. Turn to intercept.” The entire fleet bursts into motion. Vectoring thrusters fire and the entire fleet rotates to face the new incoming ships.

They are too far away to get a visual. But the radar silhouettes register them as a heavily damaged NAC ghost ship, the Defiant. And a Changeling stealth corvette the Wisp.

The ship's are blaring friendly IFF markers no doubt in response to having every gun in COG 40 aimed at them. Minutes tick by as the three ship captions speak to one another. The Defiant looks bad, wherever it came from things must be bad. And as if the skipper read my mind a general order came over the comm.

“Attention all embarked personnel return to base and secure for hard burn. Our time table had been moved up, our mission has changed.” The general sounded tired and that's never good.

As my groupe and I began walking back to the hole. I watch that NE pilot Charlotte, man handle the damaged flayed over us and into a hanger bay. “I've got a bad feeling about this.”

The universe had changed, Humanity once considers one of the dominant species in our honor of the galaxy had lost its thrown. The galaxy that had once been Our battle ground. Now we serve a technology superior race.

I was a hunter now I caught and cleaned my own food and lived a simple life. The only concern I had was feeding myself and my wife with what the woods provided.

Gone were the days where I piloted steel and ceramic monsters into battle against creatures from nightmares. Fighting side by side with men and women closer to me then brothers. Gone were the days of endless drills, PT, and carbohydrate rich food. Gone was the camaraderie and my warrior spirit.
I’d given it all up. Asked the chief to transfer me to another team, and quit shortly after that. I was dropped on Sandalphon shortly after that, and the war ended shortly after, not in humanity's favor.

The UEC had discovered a way to communicate with the lankys and together they blew straight through our defence, and taken earth. The UEC had let Miiora go, and we were together again, and living our lives in peace.

I was happy, at least that's what I told myself. Miiora got up and went to the window of the house to stare at the ocean beyond. The setting sun tinted her face a shade of pink. She looked so beautiful standing there in the fading light. She rested a hand on her stomach where the light bulge of her eggs showed. “Such a beautiful evening. How warm do you think it is tonight? I need to lay these eggs before the winter comes.”

“I don't know.” I say tearing off another strip of meet. “Check your implant.”

“Fine HUD on.” I said. I could see a faint red rim outline my skilia in a mirror. The network built into my head otherwise known as my implant came to life showing me my logon screen across my vision. A typical log on session lasted two weeks and mine had probably just run out requiring me to enter my access credentials.

Automatically I started thinking my password. “Charlotte..” Something made me stop I'm not sure what. “No.” Miiora tilted her head patiently. “No?”

“Check your PDP.” I said defiantly. She came forward and rested a tender claw on my cheek. “I Had my PDP scrapped, don't you remember my mate?”

I started to wonder why I'm being so in cooperative, she only wanted me to check the weather after all. But that swirling black smoke outside for some reason couldn't lose my attention. And it's funny because Miiora can't seem to see it. But it's right there about as large as she is tall and swirling with specials of red like a swarm of angry fireflies.

“I don't remember that happening.” I said still eyeing the cloud of smoke. But a weight suddenly settled itself on my lap. “You've been having alot of trouble with your memory lately. Tell me what were you doing one week ago a month maybe? You don't know do you.” She asked concern in her voice.

“Of course I know.” I said. “Last week I… your right actually it a strange but I can't recall.”

“The doctors say it is from something called Post Traumatic Stress. But I would not know because my kind can not get it. Look so we have to do this now I just want to check the weather?” She said but I shifted her off of me before standing up and crossing my arms.

“Not until you tell me what's going on.” Her face darkens and she turned away. A deep rumbling came from outside, I heard branches shattering in the woods followed by a sirens call.

“Get to the caller.” I said retreating my old M-66 that I keep stashed under the floorboards. Venturing outside I can see a siren in the darkening light. It's beak like mouth opens and it squalid at me like a bird. So I shoot it in the face, drilling a nice sized hole into the things shovel shaped head.

Another came and I did the same but soon there were to many for me to shoot even with my rifle on fully automatic. So I retreated back into the house and slammed the door shut behind me. Miiora hadn't left her spot but instead pushed a table in front of the door. “Call for help with your implant.”

I could see them outside the windows scratching and clawing to get in. I pulled up the logon screen. “Charlotte has her…” I froze when I glanced at her. There was an evil sheen in Her eyes.

“No hud off.” I said and she looked so upset that I almost did it but again the smoke made me stop. It was inside the house now and seemed to look angry if that was possible for a cloud of smoke.

Then the entire roof was torn off of as a full sized proper lanky loomed over us. I raised my weapon and fired wildly at the large alien, knowing full well that it wouldn't do anything to the large creature.

The lanky let out a scratch that sent me to my knees. But I knew something was wrong it didn't sound right, I don't know what it was maybe the pitcher what I knew.

“Its not real.” as soon as those words came out of my mouth the cloud touched Miiora and she disintegrated. Her screams were painful that they echoed in my brain as the lanky slammed its arm down.

I’m naked, cold, and there’s a throbbing pain at the back of my head. I touched it expecting to find a wound but instead i felt a metallic nob about the size of a bottle cap. It was grafted right into my skull.

When I try to rip it off I gritted my teeth at the pain. But it wouldn't budge I stopped worried that if I succeeded I would pull out a chunk of my brain in the process. I clamber to my feet and feel the cold of the floor. The floor or deck or what ever it was felt fridged. Not a metal kind of cold but stone. ‘So not a ship then.’

I took a step forward and bumped my foot against a hard surface in the darkness, a wall also made of smooth stone. I’m not on a ship then.

“Hello? Somebody? Anybody?” I hold my breath and listen for affew long moments but heard nothing but absolute silence.

My first instinct was to check my tac-link to bring up a map of my surroundings. “HUD on” I thought. I usually hate using the implant because it gives me a headache but I need to know here I am. “Wait a second...” I said as the log on screen appeared in my vision.

The device should still be deactivated. Like it always is during missions to protect against electronic warfare attacks and when not linked to our mechs. And yet someone had rebooted it.

I so wanted to log on, but I resisted because I knew that's what my captors wanted. There were devices out there that could monitor the neural clusters that fired when a man thought the words and characters of his password. Devices like the thing attached to my skull right now.

Why would anyone want access to my chip? For starters it kept a log of everything is seen had heard since implantation. But data was encrypted without the password. “Hud off.”

They had tried to get to me using Miiora. Fuck she was the one of the most precious things in my life. Well fuck them, what a gross perversion of her memory. I probed the darkness with my bare fingers.

It didn't take long to map out my surroundings, I was confined to a square compartment cut into the stone. I could barely touch the ceiling if i jumped with my fingers out. And I could only walk one or two paces in either direction with my hands out in front of me.

There was a metallic ring in one wall with a string attached to it. Following the rope with my hands I discovered it connected to an pulley system in the ceiling. The free end of the rope dangled down in the center of the room caped by a harness of some sort just above my head.

I sat on the floor, knowing the pulley and harness couldn't be used for anything good. A narrow slot opens in the wall ahead of me and a blinding ray of light shown inside. I shielded my eyes with my right hand and saw the slightly skeletal design of my bionic. I had forgotten about it because of the synthetic feedback on the expensive limb made by Dounis industries.

“Hello? Hello?!” A bowl slid through the opening and the slot promptly slid shut. “Wait where am I?!”

I felt around in the dark, and the after image of the light was burned into my retinas. I discovered the featureless metal panel where the light had come in, a panel about the length and width of my forearm. I had missed it in my initial sweep do to its proximity to the ground. When I tried digging my fingertips under the edges I couldn't find purchase.

“Hey! I've got to use the head! The bathroom.” I yelled as I hammers at the slot. Before the slot opened a crack and an eerily familiar voice called out to me. “Shit in the bowl when you’re finished eating, Fallon.”

“Wait who are…” that's as far as I got before the slot slammed shut. I groped blindly until I found the bowl lead as much by my sense of smell as anything else. Holding the bowl to my mouth to slurp the thick contents. Bland tasteless watered down gruel but it’s food… I think.

When I was done I set the bowl on the ground and carried out my other bodily functions. It’s true what they say about your other senses being enhanced when you lose sight. Never has my shit smells so bad. And I had nothing to wipe with beside the edge of the bowl, which wasn't very effective.

I did my best to ignore the itching and tried to pretend I was back in MOTH training. Where the constant inch of sand down my pants from doing the gingerbread man felt way worse than this. I could almost hear the voices of the instructors. “Get wet and roll in the dunes. Roll you fucks!” they would yell

Believe it or not I actually missed those days. I relocated the stinking bowl next to the slot and waited. Ready to grab and crush the hand of whoever or whatever reached inside to retrieve it. When the slot eventually opens I squinted in the light and readied to pounce. But instead the bowl glowed and was dragged out of the slot.

Damn well now I know it is the UEC who has me. In fact in hindsight I should have thought of them first. If anyone was interested in getting untill from a MOTH it was the ponys. And It isn't like the shovel heads need to know where earth is, since they have already attacked it twice.

Resting against the corner of my room I tried to get some sleep. My knees drawn up to my chin and my arms wrapped around them. I don't know how much time passed, two hours maybe four. And then the stone walls flared a blinding white forcing me to cover my eyes with my good hand.

I cowered against the far corner like a caged dog. I heard the sound of stone grinding on stone like the lid of a tomb sliding open. Squinting I peered through the cracks in my fingers. And I can see a figure slowly walking into the room, the light from the walls was too blinding for me to prove he anything more than a silhouette.

I think the figure is a woman though, and the figure at the entrance behind the woman I know that silhouette a Tymerian male. And beside the big lizard I can see a third silhouette and judging from the shape this one appears to be human. That sends a wave of anger through me. The Idea that I have to sit here and deal with this shit while a fucking caleb watches is infuriating.

“What is your chip’s password?” The woman said in a posh pony ascent. “Kiss my ass coyo.” I answered.

Before I knew what had happened I found myself quivering against the wall. With waves of pain passing up and down my whole body. I was certain I had been shot in the gut with an illegal, jag round. A flechette that is jagged instead of smooth, and designed to rip and tear flesh as it gets stuck in your body.

Amazingly the pain receded. Without looking i probed my abdomen. Amazingly I found no entry wound of any kind. “This is the tartarus.” She held a small palm sized cylinder of some kind.

“Perhaps you have noticed the mob at the back of your head. It piggybacks off of the nerves in your brain on top of allowing me to monitor your thoughts. It also gives me access to the pain receptors in your brain. Magic is such a wonderful thing. With it one can cure the most terrible of diseases or inflict the most horrible of pain.” sick and tired of her little rant I did my best to lunge at her. But another wave of agony stopped me before I could make it half way.

“Traditional pain is so inefficient, when one cuts into flesh or burns it, eventually the neurons sending pain to the brain are severed and numbed. But with direct access to the brain none of that happens ever. Of course there is a chance the heart could stop out of share pain, as the brain pumps adrenaline. But death is easily solvable. The best part?” She paused for dramatic effect.

“The pain receptors I the brain never dull. Meaning I can apply the tartarus again and again.”

An explosion of pain raced through my body. It was so intense that I couldn't move, and couldn't scream. It was so intense that all i could do was slam my eyes shut but that didn't help, all I could see as the blood red of my eyelids because of the bright light. The pain shifted to my groin and the the agony only intensified.

Like a sticking my balls into a nest of the most posses off venomous ants in the universe. Whose venom contained the most painful toxins in the universe. All I could do was hope for morphine or anything to release the pain.

But just like that it was gone. I slowly dragged myself onto my hands and knees. A line of blood and saliva connected me to the floor. “There, there dear” the woman said patting me on the head like an owner after punishing their dog.

“Its over now. Your going to be okay.” She said as I pushed away spiraling on the floor. Wanting to put some distance between me and this evil woman. “I am Rarity, your keeper.”

“Rarity.” I wheezed out weakly. “Yes. And your name is floor.” She said.

“Where am I?” I asked only to receive another short jolt of pain. “It does not matter floor.”

“What about the men captured with me.” And again I got no meaningful response. “It does not matter floor, all that matters is revealing the password to your chip. Do that and everything will end.”

I thought about it. Squinting I regarded her silhouette in the brightness. I knew I would never take the rod from her hand in time. But I had to try. I lunged to slow of course.

It was like I was back in MOTH training again, and hurt so terribly more than anything in training ever had. I don't need to describe it again. We are all human we have all experienced pain it comes with the territory. And like all moments of agony it passed. And when it passed I cowered in the corner, covered in my own vomit, and lucky I had not bitten off my tongue.

“Tell me the password to your chip floor and this will all be over.” She cooed. I don't know what it was that made me deny her order. It could he any number of things, but the idea of allowing Miiora back into the hands of someone like this hurt me even more than the tartarus.

“Fallon. Avery. Veteran. Staff Sergeant. Service number- 9775-06642-AF.” another wave of pain exploded through my body. And soon another voice spoke.

“Just tell her the password Fallon, mine doesn't work.” I looked up into the familiar face of the hero of the COG mech corps. “Williams?”