October 25, 1237 Hours

"LAST MAG!" Spencer yelled out, tossing his empty magazine down to load his remaining ammunition into his R-101C. The Militia had thrown themselves, wave after wave into the IMC forces for quite some time now. Captain North had prematurely ended everyone's shore leave a day and a half ago. The IMS Eden's sensors picking up Militia activity near the vessel. It had turned out to be a good call as early this morning the Militia was throwing everything they had at the Eden. Several hundred grunts had already thrown themselves into certain death and Spencer cursed as yet another wave rushed into them.

Spencer leveled his rifle, unloading the weapon full-auto as he dropped a trio of grunts who added to the mass of corpses at the end of the street. He belted out "Shit!" as the receiver clacked open, internal mechanisms and barrel smoking from use. Before he had a chance to request a magazine from one of his allies a detachment of Spectres escorted a group of grunts into the area.

He watched as the robotic sentinels bounded over corpses and rushed to the barricade the IMC erected in defense of the Eden. Snatching his Hammond P2011 from his chest holster, he popped off seven quick shots into the leading Specter, the machine stumbling a few times before its internal systems locked up and froze as the machine collapsed. He emptied the rest of the magazine into the remainder of the advancing force.

Spencer paled as yet another large group of Militia advanced. "Waaaarrrddd!" We're gonna get overrun!" Spencer began to panic, he had a lot of close brushes with death, but this time it seemed inescapable.

"I...I know! But if we run they'll just shoot us in the back!" Wardd stammered, unholstering his own sidearm. "Just hold them back!"

"We don't got ammo to hold them back!" Gomez cursed.

Spencer ducked behind his Titanium barricade as bullets plunked into it's backside. Saying a silent prayer to whoever was listening he looked up as he saw a group of four Titans approach from the IMS Eden, several pilots rodeoing the machines as they stomped up to the barricade, towering over the fifteen foot barrier. Spencer nearly cried from the greatly appreciated reinforcements.

"Never fear, 5th Cavalry is here!" One of the Titans bellowed over the external speakers. Shortly afterwards the quartet of Titans unleashed 20mm hell as they spewed XO-16 fueled retribution. He watched as the pilots who were rodeoing disembarked to take up positions along the wall, firing down on the advancing forces.

"Omega squad. You are to board the APC, restock and redeploy in Sector 5 Charlie. Enemy Titans are engaging our forces there and our grunts are having a hard time keeping that sector secure." One of the pilots addressed, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to a waiting APC.

"You heard the man. Let's go." Wardd ordered.

"Don't got to tell me twice. Get me the fuck out of here." Gomez commented, hopping down from the barricade. The rest of Omega followed suit shortly boarding the up-armored vehicle.

Once inside the vehicle Spencer threw open a large mesh cage, grabbing handfuls of ammunition. Once his pouches were overstuffed and then some he nodded his head in contentment. His squad was also doing the same, running out of ammunition was the last thing that a person wanted to happen.

"So what's with these tactics?" Miller asked. "Usually the Militia is pretty smart when it comes to combat tactics. They've just been throwing lives away, this isn't a very good plan, even if they have numbers on their side." He mused.

"They're using diversionary tactics." The APC driver yelled back, looking over his shoulder for just a moment as he continued to drive the massive vehicle. "They've been attacking from every possible direction, sending Titans and pilots wherever our defenses seem lacking, they breached one of our defensive lines earlier but a salvo from the Eden stopped that real quick." The driver finished.

"Oh. Okay that's actually a pretty good plan. But they have poor execution." Miller commented.

"That poor execution almost got us killed." Turner responded.

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Miller mused. "Two or three hundred for what? Seven Pilots and a squad of grunts?"

"Enough." Wardd cut in. "They're dead, we aren't. End of discussion. We still have a job to do."

The rest of the ride was rather silent after that. The only sound that persisted was the electric diesel engine of the APC roaring as they barreled down streets and past barricades. "Approaching destination." The driver stated as the vehicle slowed. "DZ is hot, take caution when disembarking." He said as a mechanical whine emitted from the heavy hinges holding the door closed worked their way open. Soon the heavy, bulletproof door clunked down onto the asphalt, acting as a ramp connecting the APC to the world.

Wardd led his squad out of the vehicle into a small area behind a currently besieged barricade. He looked up to a downed Militia Atlas crushing half of the barrier then turned to his squad. "Anti-Titan weapons at the ready. Be ready for anything." He instructed, moving up to the barrier and taking place on the wall.

As Omega squad began to lend fire support another Pilot, a bald man with a fierce set of scars and a shaggy red beard spoke. "You lot our backup?" He asked with a not so subtle Irish accent.

Wardd nodded before speaking again, turning to regard the man before firing a salvo of micro-rockets at an advancing Ogre Titan. "Omega Squad, First Special Operations Group."

"Good. We got a wee bit of a problem." He yelled over the din of combat. "Some blokes are tryin' to flank us, up in the high rises." The man grimaced looking to a war torn building behind him. "Get up there an' feed their arses to em. I'd rather not have some green little men tryin' to do me in."

"On it." Wardd replied, earning a grin from the Irishman.

The man clapped Wardd on the back as he smiled, "Thanks mate."

"Omega! New orders! We're moving out!" Wardd barked, jumping down from the barricade.

"Where to now?" Torrento groaned.

"Stow it, unless you want to get picked off by snipers." Wardd said as he moved from the barricaded streets to a corporate building. "We take the stairs. Sweep each floor as we go."

"Saw a skybridge on maybe the fourth or fifth floor. We should check there." Miller said as they bounded up the steps by twos and threes.

"We should blow it up while we're at it." Fannuchi offered hopefully.

"Negative on that." Wardd shot him down, "Command was very insistent on keeping collateral damage to a minimum."

Fannuchi grumbled but kept to himself.

As they cleared the first three floors without traces of combat, aside from every other surface having bullet holes and pock marks they made their way to the fourth floor. " They really just used blanket fire over here." Turner said lowly.

"Well if you fill every inch of space with bullets then you're bound to hit something right?" Torrento joked.

As the others began to respond Spencer hushed them. "Quiet... you hear that?" He rumbled lowly. The others went dead quiet, the only sounds being muffled staccato reports of gunfire and muffled voices. From eavesdropping it wasn't obvious they were Militia.

"Spencer, take point. Gomez, you and I are going to get his back. Torrento get our six. Miller and Fannuchi get their flanks." Wardd whispered quickly, his squad moving like a well oiled machine, silently falling into place.

"The fuck is Arnett thinking?!" I thought the guy was supposed to be a tactical genius." A Militia soldier ranted animatedly to a trio of other soldiers.

"He is, this will all work out in the end." Another soldier replied.

"How is getting the majority of our guys killed working out in the end?!" He snapped, practically fuming.

"If you ask me, it would of been better to destroy the damn thing instead of trying to fucking steal it." A third, deeper voice spoke up.

"Exactly! Would of been much better." The first voice agreed.

"But think of the resources, intelligence and firepower we would gain if we netted a cruiser." A fourth voice spoke.

"Yeah but look what it has cost us. I don't think it's worth it." The first voice argued.

Spencer looked to Wardd who nodded slightly. Spencer grinned and stood up, speaking over his helmet's external speaker. "Not to mention we would have scuttled the ship long before you stole it." He shrugged as the surprised soldiers all turned to Spencer who opened fire on the four soldiers, quickly being joined by the rest of his Squad.

As they stepped over the bleeding corpses they neared a small cart with a low tech radio sitting atop the wheeled object. "Viper this is Castle Actual, my men are in position, we need you to designate the target zone so we can place the charges. We will be standing by." A voice crackled over the radio. "Viper this is Castle Actual, do you read?" There was a pause as Omega squad looked at the radio. "Viper, please respond." Spencer being the closest answered the radio. "Standby, we may have some positives on hostile contacts." Spencer said in a slightly masked voice.

The voice on the radio sighed then responded. "Affirmative, standing by." He said as the radio snapped off.

"Wardd…" Spencer started before Wardd cut him off.

"Already on it. Gamma Actual this is Omega Actual, you have Militia forces underneath your position in the sewers, be advised of possible hostile threat." Wardd said calmly.

"Thanks, Omega." The Irishman cursed. Saying something to someone in the background before the radio cut off. "Alright one more floor. Let's go." Wardd grunted as he shifted his gear and began to walk.

"Viper, I'm sending some pilots to help you with your situation. They should arrive shortly." Spencer barely heard as they made their way up the stairs.

The fifth floor had most of its west wall blown out, exposing the floor to the city 50 feet below. There was also numerous snipers and ordinance on that floor. Resulting in several very short firefights between pilots and inadequately prepared soldiers.

"Do a quick sweep. I want any explosive ordinance secured and this floor triple checked for hostiles." Wardd demanded as his crew split up.

Spencer checked the exposed roof, taking down the grunt who had the gall to try and play dead. Jumping back down to the fifth floor he saw several metal poles located on the exposed building side, several heavy duty black cables running from building to building. Ziplines. Spencer pointed them out to Wardd who began to give the order to secure them when a loud explosion interrupted him.

Omega squad rushed over to the exposed street to see the road below crack before spewing dust and debris as it expanded outward for a moment just before it crumpled upon itself. "Shit. I think they blew one of the charges…" Spencer commented.

Wardd began to radio the squad below him when the air around him came alive with hot lead. "Shit! Take cover!" He yelled as his squad dove to cover.

Spencer slid to his knees behind an office cubicle before poking his head out to see a pair of pilots laying down suppressing fire as more of their allies moved in from nearby rooftops and ziplines. "They're using the ziplines!" Spencer cried out to hear Wardd respond.

"Then fucking cut them goddammit!"

Spencer cursed then looked to Torrento, "Hey, cover me." He demanded more than asked, earning a nod from the larger man.

Spencer sprinted from his cover, narrowly dodging the few shots that targeted him and dove to a nearby cluster of ziplines. Whipping out his knife he began to cut through the heavy wire that made up the zipline. Hurriedly he cut one wire as he sawed his blade back and forth. With a resounding metallic snap the cable gave way to the blade and fell free from its apparatus, to swing limply between the building. He watched as an unlucky pilot fell from the cable. Turning to begin the next cable he focused on ripping his blade back and forth across the cord when he heard rapid zipping quickly closing in on him. Swinging his head up, he looked to see a pair of boots collide with his chest, knocking Spencer to the ground.

Spencer lay there dazed when he heard a gunshot and a stumbling thud. Shaking his head with a groan he looked to see Fannuchi looking down at him. "You owe me one." He smiled.

"Yeah… Thanks." He grunted as he stood up, grabbing his knife from the floor as he uprighted himself. He looked to the corpse that hit him when the zip of a passing bullet reminded him where he was. Crouching down, he retrieved his rifle where it hung limply by his side, suspended by his sling.

"I'll get the cables. Cover me." Fannuchi said as he hefted a block of C4 plastic explosive in his hand.

"That's a bit much." Spencer commented as he fired off a trio of bullets to keep the enemy's heads down.

"Need to make sure." Fannuchi shrugged as he planted the brick in between a pair of zip line cables. "Besides, when have my explosives ever been wrong?" He grinned toothily.

Spencer sighed, he didn't want to bring up the numerous occasions where his explosions made things worse. Instead he moved over and covered his ears as a plume of fire and death consumed half of the fifth floor. Spencer held a prolonged grunt as the building shook. He opened his eyes when it ceased and began to congratulate Fannuchi when the floor cracked and split rapidly, breaking away before Spencer could react. Falling through not one, but two floors before slamming to a stop. Spencer was caught between rubble, dust and smoke before his world went dark.

Eventually, Spencer came to, sore all over and very confused. "What the hell…" he trailed off looking at everything that was covered in a thick dust, including himself giving everything a dusty concrete gray color. Arching his neck up he looked at the gaping hole in the ceiling above him and the missing half of the building above that. He groaned in equal parts pain and frustration.

With a sigh he turned his attention to the rubble around him, looking for a way out of his current predicament. As he began to pick and weave his way through the rubble sounds of combat began to get louder. Garbled radio transmissions were also beginning to come in over his headset.

"An...dy… cer?" He heard Wardds voice over the COMM. He tried to respond to no avail. Hurriedly he cleared the thick dust covering his helmet and his external radio. Transmissions came in clearer but still had excess background static.

"I think he fell." He heard Gomez report.

"What?!" Wardd asked over gunshots. "Well where the hell is he? How did he fall?"

"My bad." That was Fannuchi. "He's probably buried under some rubble. Sorry about that."

He heard Wardd sigh, causing Spencer to chuckle as he climbed through some large chunks of rubble. The action caused him to almost double over, something moved painfully, causing him to groan into his knees. "Fannuchi. Better hope he's okay. Not only did you disobey orders, your negligence just cost us a man for the moment." He heard Wardd threaten.

"...I said sorry…" Fannuchi muttered.

Placing his hand to his helmet he enabled the long range radio. "Wardd…" he started.

"Spencer?" Wardd responded. "Where are you? What is your status?"

Spencer frowned, the transmission was still garbled, Wardd was difficult to understand. "Wardd. Wardd? Wardd, I'm fine… I think. I'm trying to find a way out of he-" Spencer started before the wind was knocked out of him.

The young pilot struggled as he was pinned down, a knife pressing into his throat guard. Panicking he fired off his jumpkit on full burn, twin gouts of blue-white flame incinerating his assailant. The person released him with a feminine scream standing to quickly pat down any lingering flames and remove her scorched armor. Before she had a chance to adopt a fighting stance Spencer used his jumpkit to propel him into a rising knee. His metal shin and knee armor smashing into the bottom of her jaw.

Dazed, she swung out with her knife only for Spencer to catch and twist the knife out her hand. In a deft flick of the wrist Spencer hand the knife turned around and in the place where the neck met with the mouth. With her final struggles she clutched his wrists only for Spencer to regard her with scorn and yank the handle of the blade up, forcing her head to pitch with the blade. The moment she went slack he released the blade and stepped back.

He looked around to see another grunt slumped against a wall clutching his abdomen, arms covered in blood. "N-no… please." The man begged dazedly, slurring his words from excess blood loss. Spencer sighed but complied. He wasn't about to waste a bullet on a dying man anyways. Instead he crouched down. "How do I get out of here?" He asked calmly.

"G..go fuck yourself… IMC." The man started to laugh before choking on blood.

Spencer frowned and stood up. Delivering a swift boot to the chest, the man yelped out in anguish. As the man fell over Spencer delivered several kicks to the man's stomach, causing him to cry out hysterically. Spencer crouched down to the thrashing man and held out a signal flare. Igniting the bright orange object he held it to the man's stomach whose wails of protest redoubled.

"Pl-Please… stop!... Oh god… h-help me!..." The man cried out.

"Now… How. Do I. Get out of here?" Spencer asked, as he turned the flare in one hand to look at the cascade of orange-red sparks spewing from the cylindrical device.

"Over...o...there." The man cried holding his torched intestines.

Spencer stood up slowly, looking over a long hallway, with several doors leading to what he assumed were offices. "Thanks…" he trailed off, leveling his sidearm to the injured man.

"N-no… please." The man started as Spencer flicked the safety off. "P-PLEA-" The man began before being interrupted by a trio of cracks. Spencer watched as the man held a face of agony then went limp. Rolling his shoulders he moved on dropping the flare on the dead soldier.

As he worked his way down the hall he received a transmission across all channels. "All units, this is Captain North. The First Intersolar Fleet has arrived and are providing assistance to our ground units. All combat assets are to redouble your efforts. Push them back, this battle is almost ours."

He then received another transmission. "Omega, danger close. Some Titans have engaged in front of your building. We have Militia forces on the run, keep at it." He recognized it as the Irishman from earlier, it was good to know he was still looking out for them.

By this time Spencer was at the end of the hall, which fed out into a darkened room. The sounds of explosions and metal crunching against metal were muffled yet prevalent in this room.

"Spencer, this is Wardd. I'm sending Turner down to assist you, he should be there shortly. Militia forces are retreating, our mission is almost complete." Wardd stated.

"Roger." Spencer replied with a short sigh.

As he made his way deeper into the room someone spoke out to him. "Surprised you made it through all that." The voice said he turned to see an orange faceplate and a R-97 Compact SMG. Spencer instinctively reached for his R-101C to find it missing, most likely lost from the fall. He recognized the voice, however and cursed silently.

Raising his Sidearm one-handed to her head he spoke. "End of the line, Bishop." He spoke with a calm that betrayed the boiling rage beneath his voice.

She seemed taken aback, she most likely didn't expect to encounter Spencer. "Well, well. Isn't this a surprise. I run into my favorite little robot." She teased.

"ALL UNITS, ALL UNITS. THIS IS LIEUTENANT COLONEL HAWKE. YOU ARE TO FALL BACK IMMEDIATELY. WE HAVE TAKEN TOO MANY LOSSES. THIS MISSION IS A BOLO, FALL BACK." A voice transmitted over her radio.

"That's a shame… but I guess on the bright side, when my buddies get here we can take you back with us. You know, get you fighting for the right side." Bishop said with a grin in her voice.

Spencer sighed, "We both know that will never happen." He said with firm anger. He sure as hell didn't have any plans of defecting. Same with being caught. He would die before he was tortured too, he wasn't ignorant of what the Militia did to their prisoners.

Bishop however, assumed his anger was for the wrong reason. "Aww are you still mad about the other night?" She asked in a slightly babyish voice.

Her question only served to compound his anger. "No, I wasn't. But thanks for bringing that up." He spoke evenly. "That just makes it easier to do this." He said calmly as he fired a round off into her shoulder.

She spun with the impact, stunned in shock. Moments later she cried out in pain, hand clutching her wounded shoulder. She hissed out a breath before sucking in air as she glared at him still partially shocked. "Y-you shot me…" She stammered. "You actually fucking shot me…" She growled out, hand reaching for her SMG.

Quicker than he expected she snapped the weapon up, putting a short burst into his abdomen. Spencer dove to the side, thankful that his armor managed to block a majority of the hastily aimed projectiles. However, the telltale searing pinpoints had told him he was far from unscathed. Spencer pulled himself behind a collapsed support pillar, groaning in pain and rage.

"I wasn't going to kill you… But now is a different story." Bishop yelled.

"Bish...Bishop. Put your gun down… it's over." Spencer groaned out. "Don't make me put a bullet between your eyes."

Bishop scoffed, barely containing hysterical laughter. "As if you could ever kill me. You've had plenty of chances and never follow through. You won't kill me. You can't kill me!" She screamed just as the wall behind exploded in a hail of concrete dust and thunder.

Spencer cursed to himself over the sound of a short scream from Bishop and an earthshaking rattle followed by a large metallic crunching sound. After a few moments, when the noise had died down and the dust had settled he poked his head back up. What the corporal had seen was something he thought only possible in movies. Bishop was half buried, pinned underneath several chunks of concrete and plaster. The culprit was a downed Militia Stryder. The top half of the machine had crashed into the building, a gaping hole where the cockpit should be. He looked to see an IMC Atlas drop the bloodied, mangled mess of what used to be the cockpit and stomp towards the retreating Militia forces.

Cautiously he moved towards Bishop as injured prey tended to fight harder. Placing a tentative hand where her neck met her head he felt her pulse. He sighed, "Of course she survived that…" He lowered his gun, now that she was dealt with he didn't feel the need to shoot her. As he began to contemplate what to do with her he heard a noise. Whipping around, startled he stared at a sheepish Turner.

"Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you." Turner apologized.

"Stay alert, I managed to get her to tell me that her squad is on the way. Then...this… happened." He explained.

"Got it." Turner said checking the ammunition on his person. "Any idea where from?" He asked as he surveyed the room.

"None."

It was a long while they waited. No one came to get her. No backup, no radio calls, nothing. The corporal sighed as he stretched and scratched the parts of his calves that his fingers could actually reach. With a soft clap he turned to Bishop and checked her pulse again. It was still there but weaker than before. With a sense of urgency he started to remove chunks of rubble from the woman. He grunted with effort whenever one piece was particularly heavy. "Help me." He said with a faint hint of desperation in his voice.

"Why?" Turner asked.

This question was asked by Bishop lots of times, often times Spencer not knowing the answer himself or not wanting to disclose information to the woman. But this was a moment, the first of many where he would have to defend his actions from the IMC's scrutiny. He opted to go with the biggest thing he felt, guilt.

"It just feels wrong to leave her here. Her squad abandoned her, I'm not going to do the same. I don't even want to think about being in a similar situation." He explained.

"They're probably just going to shoot her." Turner said trying to dissuade him.

"Even so. We can't just leave her for dead."

Turner sighed. "Fine."

They worked in silence and walked in silence. Spencer carrying Bishop across his shoulders with her hands and feet tied. It was quite some time before they reached the IMS Eden, but all things considered they had made good time. Turner sighed out in relief and went to his bunk, most likely to shuck off his gear and sleep. Spencer headed to the medical ward with his unconscious companion. After a few blurred moments Spencer found himself asleep in a chair, recovering from the events of the day.

Bishop woke up to several bright lights, causing her to squint her eyes as she stirred. Hearing several gentle thrums of machines she turned her head to see several monitoring machines and a EKG readout, gently beeping her pulse in a happy chirp. She made a confused noise as she attempted to sit up only to hear the clinking of metal on metal, her right arm having very limited movement. Her confusion compounded she looked over to find her arm handcuffed to the rail of a gurney.

The EKG reading started to skyrocket as she silently panicked. Soon her breathing became rapid to accommodate her quickened breathing. As she slowly absorbed her surroundings her pace slowed and returned to normal. Just as she had gotten a grip on her panic her door opened to reveal a doctor and a guard donned in Military Police gear. She stared with intense, apprehensiveness as the doctor neared.

She didn't like the way he peered at her, as if looking through her in a sense. The guard simply rolled his shoulders slightly hands crossed behind his back. There was also motion just outside the slightly ajar door, it was Spencer and two other men, she couldn't quite hear them. The volume at which they spoke unintelligible at this distance. It seemed like a very… heated talk. Spencer seemed animated and kept motioning with his hands. Eventually one of the men responded before the doctor gain her attention.

Quickly snapping their fingers twice, the doctor used one hand to turn her face. He motioned over his shoulder with his head to the door. The guard silently closed the door before standing back in the corner. "Good, you're awake." The doctor started, Bishop simply frowned and jerked her head out of his hand. This caused the doctor to flash a quick frown of his own before continuing.

"Now this must be very confusing for you bu-" The doctor started.

"Not really." Bishop interrupted with a sneer. "I'm on an IMC ship, handcuffed to a bed surrounded by a bunch of IMC fucks."

"Yeah well one of us 'IMC fucks' just saved your arse." The guard spoke with a rough english accent.

The doctor sighed, rubbing his temples with his hand before continuing. " Well, let's just get this over with. You suffered from some minor lacerations as well as internal bleeding, internal and external bruising and multiple hairline fractures. You also suffered from a bullet wound to the shoulder and blood loss due to your aforementioned internal hemorrhaging." The doctor quickly listed off before adding, "Your wounds were only life threatening collectively, normally you would be up and about in a few days but they're probably going to interrogate you as soon as possible… Anyways, I'm done here." The doctor put on a faux smile as he stood, waved and left the room, the guard following shortly behind.

Again, Bishop was alone. The only companion the rhythmic beat of the EKG machine. She sighed, blowing a lock of her half shorn hair from her face. As much as she wanted to think of a way to escape there was no way she could think of that didn't end in a bodybag. She cursed with a sudden influx of anger before letting out a mixed cry of anguish and defeat. The room was again silent, save the ever present beeping.

Bishop looked to the door as it opened to reveal Spencer. She glared at him and stared at him hard as he walked in. She wanted to scream at him, hurt him, lash out. But she also wanted to seek shelter in him, if only for the fact that he was the only familiar slightly agreeable at times face on the ship.

"Sounded like you were dying in here." Spencer commented, offering a weak smile.

Bishop frowned as she regarded the man. A million different thoughts coursed through her mind at the sight of him, none of them pleasant. She scoffed as she looked away from him. "Figures…"

"What?" Spencer asked equal parts confused and angry.

"I figured only one person would of brought me back here." She muttered.

"Hey, I saved your life… again." Spencer defended.

"Why? I want an answer, this time. A real one." She spoke as she turned to hold his gaze.

Spencer sighed silently then looked to her. "I felt guilty if I just left you there. Your squad may have left you for dead, but I wasn't going to. Not if you still had a fighting chance." Spencer replied.

Bishop stared at him before questioning the man. "What do you mean my squad left me for dead?"

"After the wall collapsed on you we waited for your buddies to show up but nothing happened. Nobody came." The young IMC pilot replied.

Bishop felt angry, but she understood their position. If they came and got her they most likely would have died too. Her resignation must of shown because that IMC lapdog spoke up.

"On the bright side at least your still alive."

"Yeah, so they can torture me?" She spat with a heavy coat of venom. "Pry some information from me before they put me down?"

"Well interrogate. We don't really torture… At least, not officially." He replied. "But with some good news, I'm going to be your interrogator. We start first thing in the morning."

She scowled. "I'm not going to tell you anything. You won't gain any information from me." She growled in stark defiance. "And if you think that you being my interrogator was good news. You're real mistaken." Bishop fumed.

She smiled internally when Spencer's expression slipped into a faint deflated, cross look. "Well then. Rest up, you're going to need it." He spoke as he turned to leave.

"Wait. We aren't done yet." She said to the IMC's back. "You shot me." Bishop knew that she had burned bridges with the man every time they formed. That we weren't really friends per say, but she felt they were somewhere in between. She never considered that the man would shoot her, even after all the goading, threats and teasing.

"Yeah. I did." Was all he replied as he left the small hospital room.

Bishop was alone and Spencer had blown her off, again. She frowned and sighed. 'Did I pinch a fucking nerve or something?' she thought to herself. 'He's been a real asshole lately. If he can't handle being talked to like that then he needs to grow a pair.' She groaned out in frustration before trying to move her hand again. It was starting get uncomfortable and chafe.

With no result other than jingling the metal together she resigned herself to sleep. If that butthurt little robot wanted to wake her up crack of dawn she would play his little game. And she would win. Dimming the lights she chuckled to herself as she went to sleep.

Bishop made a strange strangled yelp as a stun baton was slammed into her abdomen. Effectively winded she struggled to react as the lights were flipped on suddenly, blinding the woman who was uncuffed then roughly stood up. "Rise and shine." Spencer said as he nursed a mug of coffee, a stun baton in his free hand. Looked… bored but there was a wicked cast to his eyes. He was taking pleasure in this.

Bishop coughed as she began to formulate a pained, "What the fuck. What… time is it?" Bishop strained as she saw the digital clock in the room. "It's four in the morning?! Wha… what hell is wrong with you people!?" She managed to belt out.

Spencer simply raised his eyebrows as he took a sip from the mug, and quietly smacked his lips as he set his mug on the nearest surface. He then silently stuck her again in the gut. Bishop was unable to defend herself as another man held her arms back. Bishop simply went slack in his grip. Doubling over as large amounts of spittle and clear viscous fluid flowed from her mouth.

"You will speak when spoken to. Understand?" Spencer said bending his knees so he was head level with Bishop.

When Bishop didn't respond the man holding her up released her to drop to the floor with a slap of flesh on flooring. He then took his boot and ground her head into the mess she made. "He asked you a fuckin question." The man growled.

Bishop cried out and eventually managed to respond under mounting pressure. "Y-Yes. Yes!... I understand." The pressure was gone, a tide of relief washing over her only to be replaced with a mild headache. She was then roughly uprighted and a dark bag was placed over her head as she was led out the room.

She was led down several hallways making so many turns and stops she had no idea where they were going after a few minutes. Eventually however, they stopped. Bishop heard a heavy pneumatic hiss as a door was opened and she was forcefully seated in a large empty room. She grunted from the rough handling but otherwise made no noise. Soon her hands were bound to a metal table and the bag was removed to blinding light. Bishop shied away from the light trying to move her hands as she squinted her eyes. A metallic clanking and a strain on her wrist halted that action as she ground out a frustrated sigh.

"Alright. The more you cooperate the quicker and less painful this will be." Spencer spoke. "Any trouble you give me… the more trouble my friend here is going to make for you." It sounded like he had a cocky grin on his face. "Understand?"

Bishop laughed, "What is this supposed to be, good cop, bad cop?" She managed to get put before a strong crack of a metal baton colliding with her leg. Calling out in pain in a mixture of a grunt and a scream she recoiled in her chair.

"It was a yes or no answer, cunt." The other man growled as a warning.

"It's more of a neutral cop, bad cop situation. But that's not important. Do you understand your position?"

Bishop glared death at the man but nodded her head and hissed out a "Yes…"

"Good." Spencer sipped from around his mug. Bishop then gasped as ice cold water was thrown on her, effectively soaking her. She moved to speak when Spencer beat her to it. "Before you say anything you'll find out about that in just a moment." He said as Bishop shivered from the cold only to hear a rapid crackle of electric energy within the room.

"Now. I only have a few questions for you. The faster you answer them the sooner we can end this." Spencer explained in a tired tone, stifling a yawn.

"Okay, question one. What is the extent of Militia forces on Adaena." Spencer asked seriously.

Bishop scoffed and growled out. "Go fuck yourself, Spenc-" before she screamed out in pain, then clenched her teeth. She twitched and jerked as electricity overrode her nerves, causing involuntary muscle spasms. A few moments later and Bishop was a twitching mess. Between labored breaths and the occasional involuntary shudder as vestiges of electricity flowed through her she choked out, "You son of a…" Before she was shocked again, a high pitched, pained feminine scream worming through her vocal chords.

Spencer watched as the visible arcs of electricity caused shadows to dance and play across the small room. Eventually he held his hand up, signaling for the man to stop. "Three million volts at just under point one three milliamps. Hurts doesn't it?" Spencer said crouching down to look at Bishop. "Now, unless you want to get shocked again, you will answer my question. So. What is the extent of the Militia forces on Adaena?"

Bishop made several deep inhales that sounded like sobbing as her body continued to recoil from the electricity. "W-w… We had t-ten thousand. N-now I'd say we ha-have… less than four thousand. Th-the others would be spread out across the pl-planet." She belabordly replied.

"Good…" Spencer smiled, Bishop had just enough strength and courage to look at him. He had a satisfied smirk on his face with a hint of malice in his eyes. "Now, just a couple more questions and we're done." He offered cheerfully.

Bishop had been beaten, shocked, and burned every time she had tried to be resistant. After one shock had proven especially vicious she had even voided her bladder, forcing her to sit in a puddle of her own urine for a time. They eventually broke her, offering up any information that he requested if only to escape the pain. She was mad at him, the IMC and especially at herself, she had felt like she had betrayed all that she stood for.

Eventually when Spencer had felt she had answered all the questions he needed to ask he dismissed the other individual. Leaving just the two of them. Spencer walked over to the woman slumped over the table, hands still bound. He released her hands and knelt beside her, wiping her face of the fluids that had managed to mar her features. Bishop was still a little disoriented, but responded to his gesture. She looked to him with a glare but that expression melted when she saw the sorry look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. Taking care of the smaller wounds he saw.

"Why?" She whispered coarsely. "I would of told you eventually if it was just the two of us…"

Spencer paused and frowned, "I'm sorry… they would never let me interrogate you alone. Besides we have to keep up an image."

Bishop was silent. She didn't know what to say, she didn't have the energy or the fight left in her to speak.

"Hang on. I'll get a medical team to help you out." He said as he left the room and Bishop lapsed into unconsciousness.

It had been weeks, Bishop woke up in another hospital room. She was still handcuffed to the bed and looked at the Doctor in the room. "None of your wounds were permanent and you seem to be making good recovery. You have some minor nerve damage but that can be improved with proper therapy." The doctor said happily. "You've been cleared for release." The doctor said leaving the room.

"Release to rot away in a cell… great." She sighed. She was alone for a few minutes before a knock on the door gained her attention. The door opened to reveal Spencer and two MPs.

She looked to him then the package in his hand. He stood silently as one of the MPs, a woman. In her late twenties uncuffed her. Bishop reflexively soothed her wrist as Spencer stepped forward. He tossed her the package.

"What is this? She asked as she opened it.

"Welcome to Omega Squad. I'm your handler."