A/N: I guess I need to say I don't own Titanfall or anything like that and warning that this is the first time I'm actually posting my writing anywhere so some feedback would be cool.

-Prologue-

Location: Victor, Yuma System

Time: 1300 Local

Squad leader Charles Nalgen ran through the dense jungle as fast as his legs could take him, his squad leading the charge to reinforce the Militia's western flank from what sounded like a titan squad ambush by the IMC. The sounds of war pierced through the never ending foliage along with yelling and screaming from his headset of the men they were trying to save.

As they approached the edge of the newly man made clearing a massive shockwave staggered the column of militia reinforcements, stumbling into the clearing the only sight awaiting them was a scene of death and destruction. Newly charred husks of titans and drop pods lay baking in hot summer sun, while groups of men were strewn about, mangled and unmoving. The sounds of fighting had all but died down leaving one silhouette standing tall while the earth around it burned like a crashing sea of fire.

A voice came from one of his troops "You think the IMC turn tail'd and ran sarge? Looks like a vanguard there backin' us up"

Focusing on the distorted figure standing in the inferno, it indeed looked like a vanguard. An advanced titan design home grown by the militia, but you don't survive 4 years of a brutal war by not asking questions. Turning to his squads radio man Nalgen sternly askes "Did any vanguards respond to the distress signal?"

The radio man now using his forearm mounted display, sifts through com messages, then almost immediately tenses up "Sarge, a vanguard did respond…"

"I guess I was wrong the…"

"..but it responded 2 minutes ago"

"That can't be right we would have seen one pass by us if…."

"..."

Nalgen and his men turned as the discussion was cut short, the ground beneath them shaking from the weight of the lone figure. From the fire and flames the lumbering titan strode toward them, brandishing it's rifle before opening fire on the helpless riflemen. Staff Sergeant Charles Nalgen could only watch as 105mm shells rained down upon him and his men. Just as the shells came within spitting distance a massive blue aura surrounded the rounds and halted them in place. Sporting the colors of the militia, their saviour arrived in the form of a real militia vanguard.

"It seems like the IMC can't handle our vanguards, so you spineless bastards had to go and steal one" the voice of the militia pilot rang across his external speakers " so I guess we are going to have to take back what's rightfully ours. Seems like a trend with you IMC types"

The taunting riling up the militia grunts and prompting them to run forward as the IMC titan backed away.

"Awwww, don't be scared. I promise to kill you quickly" the militia vanguard charged forward firing poorly aimed lasers from its main rifle as well as its shoulder.

"LET'S MOVE! GO, GO, GO!" Battle cries roared from the now reinvigorated militia squads, only to fall silent moments later.

The IMC vanguard quickly dodged the lasers thrown haphazardly at it and returned fire from its own shoulder mounted weapons. A bright blue streak slammed into the militia vanguard, staggering the titan and stunning the pilot inside. From the other shoulder rockets raced toward the now immobile titan and slammed directly into its face. The militia soldiers watched, petrified, as the IMC titan punched the staggered titan, opening the cockpit and allowing the IMC pilot to gracefully jump out, execute the stunned militia pilot and steal one of the vanguards side mounted batteries before returning to the safety of the titan. And unloading it's main weapon into the now pilotless husk. Leaving helpless riflemen alone in a field with an enemy titan.

As if coming out of a trance the militia riflemen started to turn and sprint back to the tree lines from which they came, after all their most powerful weapon on the ground had just been taken out like it was 10 year out of date. Screaming and yelling once again filled militia com channels as the lone IMC titan strode forward leaving no survivors.

Pilots, one word to describe an experience like no other, a way of life, and one of the deadliest assets to ever step foot on the battlefield. Like graceful birds of flight, pilots see the battlefield from the rooftops, never afraid to cross gaps far too wide, or climb any height too tall. The battlefield is their playground and nothing is off limits for them. Though the argument could be made that pilots are just men and women like you and me, they have no special armor or gift from god keeping them alive, only a jump kit and their wits. If only that were true, a pilot is never complete without a titan, a painter with no brush, a writer with no pen, a lover with nobody to love.

The bond between pilot and titan is not one easily described with words. Just like the relationships people have with each other, pilots and their titans are all different and will grow differently. Some see the partnership as necessary, or a simple way to increase combat performance numbers. Others see each other like friends or family, sharing everything through the neural link the two share. Combat effectiveness a side effect of the ability to feel the other's thoughts, feelings, and emotions in a beautiful but dangerous way. A titan or pilot dying and leaving behind the other turns the greatest gift to humanity into a horrible nightmare.