The official sentencing hasn’t even been issued yet, but I was forced to move to this cell. I knew it was coming. The coolness in the air has a similar feel to how Grogar’s magic felt when I was first cursed. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the Princesses would leave magic like Grogar’s alone. Not if they could use it to ensure freedom from death. Part of it is the fact that the birthing tanks aren’t sustainable. I was there when we ‘acquire’ the technology and tweaked it into what it is now. The tanks were designed to form a complete copy, right down to the last memory, of any pony that lost their life.

It truly is a wonderful way to cheat death, but there’s a problem with it. The tanks do have glitches, quirks, and while most of the quirks are slight, and mostly a non-issue, the truth is there is a limit on the number of times a pony can be brought back. Eventually the tanks will kick out nothing but malformed, half dead, and or potentially violent versions of the pony that they were attempting to bring back. It was something in the original design. The species we ‘borrowed’ the technology from had understood that death was a natural part of life.

They didn’t want to escape it forever, but instead they simply wanted time to see their experiments completed. I’ve barely been brought back by those things, and already I can feel Grogar’s magic changing this body to what my original had been. It’s painful, but compared to being trapped in Tartarus it’s not too bad. I settle against the wall, the magic nullifier secured to my horn. Dark Crystal, black magic, something I know Princess Twilight picked up from one of King Sombra’s many journals.

On the other side of the wall I can hear movement, breathing, something, or somepony, who is suffering. I already know what waits for both of us. It’s not like they can do any worse than has already been done to me, so I look at the wall.

“Conserve your energy.”

There is silence for a moment, and then I hear the faintest of a raspy whisper.

“Who’s there?”

The voice isn’t one I know, but I hear slight defiance in it. That is enough to tell me that I’m not talking to another Pony. No, most of my kind fear being alone, we fear being separated from the herd, and we fear what waits for us. This is a voice of somep… someone who doesn’t fear those things. The one species I can think of that is truly like that is the humans.

“Sergeant Gusty, held for treason, and I’m going to assume I’m speaking to a human?”

More silence for a moment.

“Yes.”

I relax against the wall, “What I said stands. Conserve your energy. Rarity is a Preening thing, but that Whorse knows how to get into a pony’s head. You need your will and wits to stand against her.”

“Why should I trust you?”

I laugh, “Because unlike most of my kind I’m not afraid of death. Instead, I welcome it,” I don’t wait for a response, because I know what needs to be said, “I’ve already been where my kind go when we die. I have no true desire to return, but at the same time I hate what we’ve become. A species so frightened of death that we’ve fooled ourselves into thinking we can control it.”

“Nothing waits after death.”

I smile at the human’s response, “Oh, but there is. For us it’s a place called Tartarus. If we’ve done evil then we are skinned alive, while we are raped, by demons. We are forced to lay our sins before our judges, and we are sentenced to atone for them.”

“Sounds like Hell.”

I look at the wall opposite of myself, “I’ve read about that, one of the human afterlifes, right? I suppose that Tartarus is similar. The fire exists, but its lower in the pit.”

There’s a raspy laugh, “I’d pay to watch the purple headed bitch skinned alive.”

A smile crosses my muzzle, ”Perhaps if we escape we can work toward a way of making that happen.”

“Hello floor, how are you today?” Rarity asks from the entrance of my cell. They didn't turn the lights on today so I’m grateful for that. “Are you ready to tell me the password to your chip yet?” She really does like to hear herself talk doesn't she.

“What do you think?” My voice is hoarse and the smell of rotting flesh is starting to become apparent. I hadn't seen her in almost three days, and now my body is attempting to fight off an infection. “What I think floor is that you will tell me sooner or later. But for now there is someponies who would like to have a few words you. Do be on your best behavior, I would so hate to use the tartarus on you. Especially in your… current state.”

The door opened again and a smaller pony walked into my cell. She looked vaguely familiar but I can't place it. The mare looked similar to rarity. ‘A relative perhaps?’

“Do you remember me, Earther?” The mare asked as she began stalking around me. Her gait was elegant similar to Rarity's, and she had the air of a politician, or a diplomat about her.

“I'm sorry, you must not have been very good.” That comment got me a rather generous serving of pain from the Tartarus. When the pain stopped Rarity just shook her head, but the smaller mare looked furious. “You killed me, you set me on fire!”

“Damn.” That didn't get me a serving of mind numbing pain, but it did gain me a slap in the face. “On the Dragons breath, you killed me in front of the entire UEC.”

“Oh I remember you. You don't look all burned up so why the fuck do you care? Wait how the fuck are you even alive? Last time I checked if you set someone on fire they don't come back to life.” The two ponies and scoffed at my comment. The small one was going to speak again but a human speaking from the doorway cut her off, and making her storm away in a huff.

“Because Fallon, death is not permanent in the UEC, its an inconvenience.” glancing up from the small ish mare I saw Williams standing in the doorway. I tried to lungs at him but a dove of pain stopped me cold and I fell to the ground, as the restraints repositioned themselves from the feeling to the floor.

“How many UEC troops have you killed Fallon? Dozens? Hundreds? How do you think the UEC is winning this war? It's not through superior tactics, though it does help sometimes.” He continued as walked closer and closer to me before stopping and crouching directly in front of my face.

“See, you drop a gear and they stay dead. But you drop UEC soldier an actual soldier not a conscript or a pleb, and seven times out of ten they will just wake back up in a freshly grown body a few minutes later. Unless there is a backup of course, which the COG has been creating a good lot of.” He continued before tipping over and plopping down beside me.

“But the machine is slowing down and soon it will stop. It's simple numbers Fallon, a war of attrition and the UEC has more numbers and the means to win...” He kept talking as I began looking around, and spotted the big Tymerian standing in the corner his his halberd clasped in his clawed hand. But what got me was his body language he didn't look as angry as he did the last time I had seen him.

His tail was low and he didn't look that focused. In fact he looked like he was eyeing something in his free hand. Carefully not to arouse suspicion I strained to look and saw that he had the scale Miiora had given me in his hand.

‘Why the fuck would he have it?’My curiosity satisfied I continued looking around and saw something curious. Everytime the door opened there was a shimmer in the hallway. And everytime the shimmer appeared so did the smoke.

A second Tymerian made herself known as she came around the corner. She was almost as beautiful as Miiora, with her deep purple scales and violently blue eyes. But then again the only other female I have seen in the passed I don't know how long are rarity and that fucking child so I'm not a very good judge.

“Like what you see Fallon? I've got myself my own Tymerian charge and unlike Miiora She knows her place. And… she could be yours if you just give us your password. Or better yet come work for me. It has its perks you know, and when Min’Baku captures your girlfriend we'll let you have an both. Instead of giving her back to her old master.”

I lunged at him gain, my quickly deteriorating and weak body snapping the chains taught. But I actually managed to snap my leg out kicking Williams in the chest. Earning me a prompt and prolonged dose of pain. “Okoal tchupuya kayn wokpla! Pokouwak, owakoan Min’Baku. Techu’koan neksoalku Miiora, gesturl oawail’a! Welowalla!” I shouted at the scum bag.

“Wellowalla! Tcheka no Belta Iceman! Tcheka jis ko Earth! Cochuknw UEC mipol’owuq estolin Sol merdetoron. Rakstolfo, jogeru storm no jerahsto, Min’Baku sukoasta. Histero sip’questa Miiora.”

The smoke swirled behind Williams. It billowed and and I noticed the large male glancing where I'm looking. His body language became more agitated. The smoke more prevalent as it began to take a rough shape a screeching voice came from it. ‘ReSisT.’

“What Are they saying?” The male reptile asked from his corner. “I have no Idea prime, but that language is simply dreadful. There’s no structure at all.”

“We are speaking Belter. Its a language in Sol used by the people who live in the asteroid belt and outer planets.” Williams said, opting out of our verbal assault on one another's person.

“Why are you humans so fractured anyhow? So prone to violence, you are like an even more unbranded version of the Kleese, why can't your people ever seem to find peace?” Min’Baku asked, her voice somehow coming over as slightly prissy but somehow respectful and submissive somehow.

“Because peace is an illusion, and no matter how tranquille the world seems it doesn't last long. Peace is a struggle against our very nature. A skin we stretch over the bone, muscle, and sinus of our own igraned savagery.” He said throwing a jab into my in face before standing and straightening out his uniform.

“The instinct of violence festers inside us like a parasite. Waiting for a chance to feed on our rage and multiply until it burst out of us. War is the only thing we really understand. The moments of peace hat we find sometimes, aren't anything but warfare, thinly disguised. And sometimes surrender, can be as savage as any attack.” He says before turning to leave.

The smoke from twisted and morphed itself until it resembles a small man sized Wendigo. Red particles began fluttering around the smoke like fireflies as it moved, around the room like a wraith. What caught my attention was that nobody else seemed to see it, but Bra’tac seemed to realise that I could see something.

“Hey Williams!” I grunted spitting blood onto the floor. “I'll remember this. When I'm back In my bot.”

“I'm counting on it.” Williams said as the group exited my cell. One by one until the male tymerian remained.

He let out a low hiss and before throwing something on the ground in front of me. When I looked down I saw it was a single ruby scale Miiora’s scale.

“Where did you get this creature?” his voice echoed. “My girlfriend gave it to me.”

That seemed to get his attention, and his helmet retracted back into his armor. The big male stared down at me. His blazing gold eyes burning holes into me. “Impossible, the female that heart scale belongs to is dead. Killed by your kind when you destroyed the diplomats ship.”

“Are we talking about a female about 5’9 many six foot, beautiful ruby red scales, yellow eyes? Maby a buck 30 soaking wet? Yeah she’s still alive. Why you know her?”

Bra’tac squeezed his staff weapon tighter in his clawed hand. Causing the knuckles in his hand to creak and pop. “Impossible, you lie, my mistress told me she is dead. Yet here you are with my sister's heart scale, and her scent on your equipment… yet.”

He paused before huffing the air like I’be seen Miiora doing whenever she was trying to catch a scent. He eyed me for a fraction of a second and I thought I saw something there but it was quickly covered up. “My sister must truly have cared for you Earther. That or you were very lucky indeed with what trophy you took when you killed her.” He said.

“And I am telling you Miiora is still alive. Sesakay tacheko Hekta-miko.”

“And I am telling you human that my mistress has assured me that Mii’ora is dead. But one thing is obvious. Someone is misleading me, and I intend to find out.” The smoke writhed around him as he spoke and he waved a hand attempting to shoo it away.

“Well I hope you do, crockman.”

“You had better hope I do not discover you are telling me a mistruth Earther.” And with that his helmet snapped back into place as he bent down and placed the heart scale around my neck.

When I looked up I saw the door close and the lights returned on. But now I saw the shimmer, and the smoke didn't leave right away, instead it ran a clawed hand over my bionic. The smoke cooed and moaned making other soothing noises and I smiled. ‘ThErE iS IrOn In YoU HuMaN, aS WiTh ThE OtHeRs HeLd hErE iN BoNdAgE.’

I don't know why but for the first time since I meet the Dounis since I meet Miiora I don't feel so alone. Like I'm part of something… no I have a family. Miiora, Charlotte, my gran, my MOTH brothers, hell Even Trombley and Levoy.

Ahead of me the humanoid form of Fally’s Atlas crashes down firing off plumes of chaff smoke shrouding its form from my sensors. Throwing my fighter into a barrel roll I narrowly avoid a stream of tracers that reach out from the dust cloud.

Affew times I have caught flack for training Avery in mech combat. But there is something about the way he pilots, the way he takes the raines and controls the tempo of the battle that is almost inspiring.

[Fighter - Valkyrie - Infantry]
[Infantry]

Flipping around I crash down feet first into the hull of one of the Galacticas’ escorts. Zooming my camera in I can see the grey and crimson form of Fally’s mech and I smiled.

My best friend like many of the MOTHs are extremely competent in their ATLAS mechs. Their neural links enable pilots to achieve a level of oneness with their machines that no other mech in the COG can rival. But when fally is inside of a mech he changes.

“Je t'ai eu.” My wings flipped out from my back, and the targeting reticle appears on my HUD. The Gungnir bucks as I confirmed target lock and three viper missiles leap from the missile pod and toward the American mech.

When Fally is inside the mech, he becomes the ATLAS. The servos are his muscles, the armor his skin, and the frame his bones. It is like he is one with the machine, and that is why I prefer practicing against his data profile, when he isn't available…

‘Don't worry Fally we'll find you, and make those ponies suffer.’

With the development of the ATLAS-3s and their womb it allowed the American machines to match or surpass most mechs in surface combat.

“Que se passe-t-il!” focusing on my opponent I watch as the mech fires its jets. Twin plumes of fire burst from the nozzles on its hips and if launches itself towards me and towards the oncoming missiles.

Lifting my arms I fire a burst of grenades from all four of my wrist gatlings. But before the wounds find their target the mech thrusts its arm out deploying a magnetic shield, stopping both the grenades and the missiles.

I am about to move when a voice come over the radio. “Ice Queen, Doll: That tango blew past me, you have incoming.”

“Merde!” I have just enough time to turn away from the incoming mech before my mech is slammed to the side. My seat injects my with juice as my world spins around me and the G forces assault my body.

Firing my thrusters I stop my rotation and l reorient myself before turning to see the mech that hit me a streamlined red and white atlas. The mech fires its vents before slamming its clawed foot pads back down onto the hull. On my screen a red outline surrounds the mech with white and green status indicators beside it.

[Atlas-2]
[Damage level: white]
[Threat level: orange]
[Pilot designation: Habu]

“Miiora.” Miiora’s icarus mount flips up and two trident missiles burst from the pod. Smiling I fire flares and flip my fighter into a backflip before shooting down the missiles before landing in front of my reptilian friends mech.

“Computer dismiss Fallon program, and load training program Miiora-1.”

[Acknowledged]

The world changes around our two mechs and soon we are standing in an open field of flowers. Miiora isn't that bad, but she has the same issues that a lot of the nuggets I trained in the academy for a while had. She allows her emotions to cloud and dictate her judgement.

I let out a breath centering myself before opening a channel to her mech. “Alright Miiora, let's see how good Fally’s teaching is.”

Instead of replying she took one heavy strap forward. The stabilising claws on her mechs peds dug into the dirt as she took another step, and then another before she began sprinting at me.
Smirking I fire my thrusters on a low burn bringing myself into a low hover and glide past her clumsy shoulder check. “Your movements are to slow, too predictable.”

Miiora in response mashed her ped into the dirt. Before pulling the rifle from her back and swiveling her missile pod up and around her shoulder.

‘Smart movie Habu, But…’ angeling my thrusters I fly into melee range.

“You have to remember, your opponent might be faster than you.” I say my move forcing Miiora to take a step back. Thrusting my hand out I snatch Miiora’s icarus mount by its arm.

In response Habu throws a hasty punch that I bat aside with my free hand. Then I fire my foot thruster and slam my knee into her midsection, before rolling over her back and slamming back down behind her.

With a titanic effort I flip the ATLAS over my mech’s shoulder slamming it down In front of me. Tightening my grip on the hyperextended Icarus arm I plant my foot on Miiora’s shoulder and tear the weapon mount from the ATLAS mech’s shoulder blade, before throwing the now useless piece of scrap aside.

From her prone position Miiora thrust her machines rifle towards the cockpit of my mech. On instinct I thrust backward throwing my fighter into valkyrie mode and blowing the offending arm to scrap with my gatlings.

“It appears that you are victorious once again.” Miiora said as she stood her machine up.

“Yes well you are too reliant on Avery’s method of fighting. It's ridged and based of overpowering your opponents. It's an effective strategy if a little inelegant. But your strategy can not be the same as his for the simple reason that you aren't him. Your issue is that you are controlling your mech like a bulky human male, Not a slender Tymerian female. Fight like you would without the armor, don't think about it just do it.” I explain as her mechs missing appendages and weapons reappear.

“very well.” was her only response as she retreated the rifle from her back.

“Excellent Habu, now again.”

It was to be the one to help explain what was what. The others seemed to work well enough with me, but never had I expected to really go as far as to explain how certain things would react. For one, I had to explain about the egg. I had never seen one, but all of us had heard about them. Corrupted phoenix eggs that contained enough magical fire it could, and would, be more than capable of destroying a few city blocks. Once I explained this one of the soliders walked forward and picked up an egg.

“Sounds like a mini warhead.”

Another looks at it, “So, what, are they designed to be laid as traps?”

I shook my head, “Nein, Sie haben einen Werfer, a launcher,” I caught myself, “It needs a launcher, otherwise it has to be used as a trap, or by a suicidal soldier.”

Slowly the eggs, six in total, were gathered. I had a feeling they were going to be studied, but how satisfying it would be to use them against those who had overthrown my homeland. To watch their eyes in terror as their world exploded into a brilliance of light, and then slipped into total darkness.

“What can you tell me about our guest?” The skipper of the Galactica, Tyler Barron asked his chief science officer. The slender woman's image simmered in the screen before coming into focus.

The fleet had finally exited the rather sizable magnetosphere of this systems gas giant. And the residual effects have been playing havoc with the ship board communications for the passed few hours. ‘Just one more thing I am going to have Miles deal with. But I suppose that is what you get when you change a shakedown curse into a combat opp.’

“Well General, the DNA matches Lanky patterns. But there is something different from any of the other lanky flayed fighters we have dealt with before. See look for yourself.” She said changing the image to show a three dimensional image of the craft. The fighter was segmented into many different colors with info boxes beside each of them.

But two sections of the craft was a dull grey signifying an unknown object. The first and larger of the two was vaguely half of the size of an old oil drum and conical in shape. The image changed to show a full color representation and the generals heart skipped a beat.

Instead of this object being the usual lanky affair of bioengineering. Or whatever it is they do to manufacture their equipment and personnel. This object was definitely mechanical in nature, shaped vaguely like a subwoofer without a box it was almost a brawns in color. The interior edge of the larger opening glowed an ominous red while the inner disk shaped bottom glowed a deep almost purple blue.

“What am I looking at Hoki?” The image changed back to the black haired science officer and she huffed. “Honestly, at this point I can't tell you, light and matter seem to behave differently when the device is powered. But I honestly can't say for sure…” she paused to pinch the bridge of other nose before letting out a frustrated huff.

“If we were on tycho or thoth station it might be easier. Or if we had another android we could I don't know, something… I wish we had one of the Dounis or Weyland scientists on it…”

“I know you will find out whatever it is just give it time. But what about this other thing?” Tyler asked bringing up the second grey image. It looked like a perfect two by three cube. An odd addition to a fighter and something his exo Adama had pointed out. “Now that is the strange thing. It was empty save for one object, this.”

The image changed to show a small metallic object about an inch and half in diameter. The disk possessed cool metallic red choral appearance. And in the center of the object swirled a blue glowing metallic light. “What is that?”

“We don't know sir. But our scans say it’s code, and when we compared its reading with what we have in our data banks we found something.”
“Well don't keep me in suspense what is it?” The image changed to show to show a swirling data cluster. “This is from the disk.” Hoki began.

“And This is from a brain scan done twenty years ago.” The screen split down the middle and a similar image appeared, before merging with the red image.

“There the same?”

“Correct sir, it's the code to human consciousness.” he dropped his coffee pouch. He began thinking the flayed they had down in the hold hadn't self destructed when Icequeen brought it in, why? We're the lankys trying to give us this equipment? But why and to what end?

“Why would the lankys have just handed this to us?”

“Your answer is as good as mine sir.”

This one is told center herself. She is informed that her most treasured one is strong, his training the most in depth, and that he will not give into anything the Equestrians can and will throw at him. But, this one knows better. She has seen what they do those who do not give them what they want. She has witnessed other slaves tortured for days on end, and she has seen the strongest break.

As she floats through the of the massive ship she heard the distinctive pattern of chitinous claws against metal behind her. “Mii’ora, a moment?”

This one looks to the one speaking. The large fur covered form of Durge greats her. “She is sorry, tek'ma'te Durge, is there something you need?”

“Tek'ma'te Mii’ora. Tell me friend why are you in such a keelvah?” The arachnid asks.

“This one does not know Durge. She worries for her dearest one, worries that he will be broken by the ponies before he can be rescued.” The Zaltule clasps his lower hands behind his back and scuttled along the walls as the she continues on her trajectory.

“Hmm… The Fallon creature is indeed resilient. However I also am inclined to believe that veteran Fallon just might be strong enough to hold on for a while.” as they continue on affew humans float passed, and she can't help a small smile from splitting her maw when they give the Zaltule a wide berth.

“Wak’shan we have both seen the extents the UEC will go to to get information.”

“If for any reason to see his mate again. Sure you are not mated but still the sentiment stands. I have seen you real him in after a mission. The human would probably be dead without you. Now if you'll excuse me I have hatchling to deal with.” He says kindly his eyes emanating their usual dull inner red glow before be scuttled around a corner.

Soon she found herself in mech bay 6-G-2. The bay is not as crowded as she is used too. Using her tail she sends herself to J squads bay. And as she nears the four bays she begins to hear music playing over the sound of tools being used.

She is about to leave when a familiar voice call out to her. “Hay Sis! Miiora over here!”

Hearing the “Belter” calling his nickname for her she looked to the bay on her left she sees Trombley hooked to the chassis of his machine Camouflage. His mechs sensor dome swivels to track her bathing her in a soft green light. “Greeting pilot Miiora.” The heavy baritone voice of his machine says.

“Tek'ma'te Michel Trombley. Greetings Camouflage. Can I help you with something?” The young human laughs at her statement and Miiora hisses in annoyance.

“Oh don't be like that sis, you've been all moody for the passed three days.” He says only to be smacked in the back of the head. “Ah what the fuck vet!”

“And you’ve been a fucking retard since you were born Trombley. Can't you see she’s worried about her boyfriend you damn fool?” the voice of the voice of my corporal instructor says, as Tech sergeant Sugar Watkins comes floating from behind the form of Trombley's mech.

The unicorn horn around his neck floats lazily behind him as he brings a grinder to one of camoflauge’s servos. “Look scales worrying about him alone ain’t gonna bring ‘em back.”

How can you…” she began but another voice cut her off. This coming from the command sergeant major. “Miiora if I know my grandson at all he’s probably already coming up with a plan to escape. The boys not like his dad.”

“Hm I agree, the sergeant is… resilient to put it mildly.” The perpetually calm Levoy said, from his perch near my machine Habu. The human floats holding his PDP as he runs some kind of diagnostic.

“I agree with corporal Levoy liaison Miiora. MOTH Fallon is 40 percent likely to have attempted at least a single escape attempt before our fleet is scheduled to arrive.” The machine said in a calm female voice with it's larger eye flashing as it spoke.

“Habu open cockpit.” Miiroa says kicking off if the deck and floating toward the opening clamshell cockpit of her dearest ones previous machine.

Her interior glowed as the AI core shined behind the pilots seat. As she closed herself inside of the cockpit she felt secure. The comforting scent of the one Miiora cared for the most was everywhere in of the machine.

With a sigh she folded down a keyboard onto her lap and began running diagnostics. She was reluctant to change her suitors settings because as far as she knew this was one of the only things of his still left in her life. And inside of this machine she felt at peace like he was still there.

The interior running lights kicked on as Habu began her own set of internal scans. As Miiora worked she felt her hand brush against the scarf she had purchased her suitor on their first date. “Pilot: your metabolic rate has dropped by thirteen percent, and your respiration has sharpened. Do you require assistance?”

She inhaled sharply focusing on the task at hand. “No my friend I am fine.” As she spoke she couldn't help but rub the apon on her chest where a scale was missing. “Affirmative”

The gifting of a heart scale was a key stage of Tymerian courtship. Signifying the females acceptance of the male’s advances and the beginning the next s… “Pilot: Resuming internal scans… Pilot I am retrieving a connection request from this specter.”

“Hsssss, open cockpit.” at my command the Clamshell opened up to reveal one of the NAC’s automated infantry units. The specter possessed an snout like triangular head with a single ear like antenna on the back right of its head. It also possessed a very human yet mechanical build unlike the atlas units which stood on almost digitigrade legs. These stood like humans, and possessed five actual fingers. As opposed to the atlas's four claws.

“Yes?” The machine stood motionless in the zero gravity using its magnetic locks to hold to the deck. ”Pilot Miiora, Sierra Delta-6624 would like to have a word.” The grey and red machine says.

“Very well. Please lead the way.”

As she followed the combat robot she began to notice more and more black and crimson armored individuals. And soon she began to see the members of her dearest ones team, and his other associates.

“Hey is Scales.” Someone called out.

“Miiora!” around her the mostly male pod heads that had gotten used to her presence around Avery fallon called out. “Hey Miiora if fallon kicks the bucket can I have his stuff?”

“Hey don't listen to that degenerate red your boys fine.” She felt the sincerity and kindness in their calls. And she as she continued she was meet by more and more greetings.

But as she passed one bay she saw twelve Moths all kneeling as if in prayer. Each of them bore a single red cross on their armor and their mechs each bore the same red cross. “Who are they?” She ask a passing MOTH.

“that's MOTH team-3 the Templar.” The woman said quietly before stomping away in her power armor.

Soon however her floating came to an end at the bay whos entrance readed “MOTH team-1 Apex Predators. I kill you I'm better.”

Entering the bay she was greeted by the upside down face of veteran Grayson better known as ‘AMP’. “Hey Habu. Help me out here.” he grunted before floating using her shoulder to push himself back toward his black and green machine. Ahead of her the white and red armor of her suitors Atlas-3 shown, freshly polished, as she had done the day prior.

She had learned recently that possessing white or vantablack armor as a base on one's machine or battle armor was a sign of skill. A privilege reserved for the renowned heroes like the COG’s elite onyx guards. Whom she had only seen once, on the network screen when her dearest one was receiving his medal of honor. Who were themselves mirrored by the UEC's celestial, or lunar guards.

“Hello Pilot Miiora.” The machine says as it takes a step out of its bay and kneels down. She bowed slightly before answering, and berated herself for doing so. She was not a slave anymore but the practices literally beaten into her were hard to shake away. “Greeting Sierra Delta-6624, How many Miiora be of service?”

“It has come to my attention that your mental state has declined since relieving knowledge of my pilots capture. It is my recommendation that you listen to the message Veteran Sergeant Fallon left for you.”

“He left a message? And you didn't tell me before, why?” I asked irritated. To this the single sensor eye ‘blinked’ twice as it stared at her.

“...It was not relevant to my maintenance.” She hissed at that, this machine has been keeping a message from my suitor and was only now telling her about it? I bellowed subsonicly as I kicked the machine.

“Pilot Miiora, if you wish to damage my chassis I would recommend something more substantial. However I must inform you that if you continue along that course of action I would then be forced to defend myself.”

She took a deep breath centering herself before staring back into the crimson eye of her suitors machine. “Yes I apologise Sierra Delta-6624. Please play the message.”

“Acknowledged pilot.” The eye flickered as the machine stood up slightly and shined a light in front of her. The light flickered and danced before resolving itself into a hologram of Avery Fallon.

“Hey is this thing on? ‘Affirmative Pilot.’ Hey Miiora If your watching this I'm probably late on arrival… or dead, hopefully it's not the latter but you know shit happens.” a smile tugged at her maw as she heard her suitors voice, and saw his face again. But her heart ached knowing what he was probably going through while she was here safe.

“If I haven't said it yet Miiora I want you to know, you are one of the greatest things to happen to me since the Dunois got me off earth when my mom died. You mean more to me than I can put into words Miiora…” the message continued as she felt her heartache intensify.

She wanted to tell him so much but she couldn't. How much he had changed her life, thank him for everything he had done for her. Tell him how much she loved him, but she couldn't.

“... ‘Moths report to your drop bays.’ My mom always said no matter how bad a day was, one second after midnight it's always tomorrow. And If I don't get to see you again… I just want to let you know I love you Miiora. Live forever ape.” The message ended and she felt the bay around her was empty, save for the ATLAS mechs and specter in their bays.

She didn't know how long she was in the bay sitting beside her love’s white and red matching bus when she heard the clicks of Mag boots locking she looked up to see Charlotte. She is a friend both this one’s dearest one, and of this one herself. She moves toward me, a look of determination on her face.

“How may this one be of service?”

She touches this one’s shoulder, “There’s talk, a few of us are signing up for the rescue mission, and honestly I thought that you would want to be in on it. The upper brass might not like it, but I think that they can shove it. So you in?”

The two of us float down to the exit of the bay and when the hatch opens we are greeted with over twenty faces. Among them are Trombley, AMP, Durge, Pogle, Levoy, a rather strangely colored Spectre, Aryanne, LT fick, sgt Perkins, Levoy, Watkins, and sargent Brianna Fallon. As well as the familiar faces and crimson armor of Helldiver X and his team, the drop shockers.

“Yes. I'm in.”