They had concealed themselves well, these intruders of the forest. They didn't move around noisily like clunking knights in their heavy armor, nor snapping every twig that they stepped on like random adventurers or the odd lost farmer. Neither did they use torches to illuminate the dark night that had set upon the moonless evening, unlike the fools who would set up campfires that would alert being and beast alike to their presence over a great distance. Overall it was a rather impressive showing that would make anyone think that this pair belonged in the forest just as much as any one of the Rangers.

But outsiders they were. What had first tipped Kat off to their presence was the bizarre scent that they left behind in their wake. It was a somewhat metallic odor that reminded her of the taste of blood in some ways, in others a strange sweet aroma that was unlike anything she'd encountered before, mixing together to form something that was utterly alien to the environment and alerted the half elf to their existence. They hadn't been difficult to track to the campsite she currently was perched above, leaving unusual continuous tracks in the soil wherever they went, though their speed must have been truly impressive for her to take as long as she did in locating them.

Two were visible from her current vantage point, talking in low tones that didn't even carry up to Kat's ears. They were human, as far as she could tell, a shorter one with paler skin and blonde hair that was rarer among his kind. Along with him was a taller one with darker tones in both hair and body that was more common among citizens of the Empire. She'd been worried that this had been a group of orcs that had somehow slipped by all the camps, a dire possibility indeed with so many of their hunters rallying to join with the forces of House Duron, but this discovery was leaving her feeling too perplexed for relief to settle in. This pair of men did not wear any clothes that Kat could place, long sleeved blouses and pants that were colored in splotches of dark green, brown, and even black. Nor did they seem to carry the kind of items that would be common of those traveling in such small numbers at night. No bows or swords, not even any animal carcasses that would show them to be woodsmen of some kind that had decided to risk a quick visit for some easy prey.

It left far too many questions for Kat to even hazard a guess as to who these intruders were. And in these dangerous times, unknown strangers in the Lonham Forest almost certainly meant trouble. Subduing them for questioning was the only safe option.

She waited for both of the men to have their backs turned towards her direction, then silently crept out from behind her hiding spot and dropped down from the tree branch. She landed less than a meter away from the outsiders, the well-practiced move making no more noise than an acorn landing upon the soil.

That apparently hadn't been quiet enough, however, as blonde hair whirled around just as Kat was rising back up to her full height. She threw out her hand to strike the man's chin with the heel of her palm, trying to knock him out in one swift blow, but the man was fast enough to draw his head backwards away from the attack just a heartbeat before it would have struck home. Dark Hair was now turning towards her as well, and Kat had to make a split second decision on what her next move would be, not wanting to allow the pair to both counter her sudden arrival at the same time.

Dropping down to a crouch, Kat set one hand on the ground for support while she kicked towards Dark Hair, driving her boot hard into the human's stomach. He coughed violently as all the air in his lungs came rushing out, staggering him backwards and giving the Ranger precious time to deal with Blonde Hair before he could recover.

She turned her attention back to the other man, realizing too late that he was bringing a roundhouse kick aimed directly at her face that was already in mid-motion. Knowing it was already too late to completely dodge, Kat pushed upwards on her supporting arm, taking the full strike on her left shoulder. Pain exploded from the point of contact as spots began to form in her vision. She forced herself to ignore it, latching onto the human's leg with an iron grip and yanking as hard as she could. Blonde Hair was pulled off his feet and sent crashing hard onto the forest floor, Kat wasting no time to pounce atop him to try another knockout strike, but the man had thrown up his arms to guard his face from any further attacks. She tried to break through anyway, swiping left and right to force a break in the defenses. For a moment, Kat thought she'd managed to find an opening after bashing his arms away, but Blonde Hair rolled his entire torso to the right along with his wayward limbs, snapping them backwards like a bent branch and landing a hard blow against her left cheek.

The world around her went dark for a precious few moments, and she felt the man's boot drive itself into her torso and force her back at least a full meter. Finding her footing again, Kat shook her head hard, forcing the world around her to come back into focus. The human hadn't wasted any time, pushing his palms into the ground to the sides of his head and kicking his legs away from his body, using the combined force to get back to his feet in one fluid move. His eyes locked with Kat's and he dropped low into a fighting stance while taking a step backwards towards his encampment.

This wasn't good, Blonde Hair was far more skilled in weaponless combat then she had expected, his reflexes at the very least rivaling Kat's own. One on one, it would have certainly been an interesting fight, but there was a third player in this game she had put off dealing with, and two of them against one of her was just plain bad odds. There was no choice now, these humans were just too dangerous to be left alive. She knelt down, drawing the knife from her boot and prepared to-

"STOP!"

The command was accompanied by a sudden blaze of light that left Kat momentarily blinded. She tried to cover her eyes, realizing the source of the glare was coming from the direction she'd last seen Dark Hair. His silhouette was barely visible in the glow, just standing there and not making any move to advance into the fray. Kat blinked several times, trying to keep both men within her vision as her eyes tried to rapidly adjust to the new lighting, but it looked like Blonde Hair was retreating further from her as well.

Kat brought most of her attention to Dark Hair, who was holding an object in each of his hands directed towards her. In his left hand was a black cylinder shining that damnably bright light in her eyes from its end, far brighter than any torch she'd ever seen before. In the other was a metallic object that looked to be partly the hilt of a sword at its base, but jutted out above the grip to direct a small black void at its end. Blonde Hair had brought out a similar object by now, though it was much longer, with extra pieces whose purpose Kat couldn't even guess at, but still had the hollow black void directed towards her. It was obvious they were weapons, the two strangers holding them as knights would wield a crossbow, leaving Kat in a very disadvantageous situation.

Assuming their properties were similar to crossbows, there was a chance that she could dodge out of the way before either of them could loose their bolts. But that wasn't odds that Kat would be willing to gamble on, especially having seen Blonde Hair's reaction time for herself. On the other hand, just surrendering could be just as bad of an idea, not knowing what the pair would do to her if she tried. She opted to wait, narrowing her eyes and looking between the two while keeping her blade up in the ready position, hoping to convince the pair to retreat rather than continue the fight. Instead, the two men exchanged words in a language that sounded utterly exotic to her ears, Blonde Hair taking one hand off his weapon and holding up to her palm upwards.

"Wait minute." He said to her, his accent so thick that it made the words almost incomprehensible.

He slowly reached into a pouch on his belt, opening it with a snapping sound and pulling out the object kept within. Kat braced herself, preparing for another attack with whatever he was grabbing- And Then her breath caught in her throat. In his hand, Blonde Hair was holding the Sigil of the Forest Fae, marking them as friends of the Forest Rangers. But that wasn't what drew her attention. The wood and stylization of the sigil was unmistakably from the Elves of Koan Forest to the East, and these two were very clearly not elves.

"Where did you get that?!" Kat snarled, worried that these intruders had stolen the piece from one of her tribe, or worse.

Blonde Hair seemed to be taken aback for a moment, speaking again with his comrade before going back to Kat.

"Given trade. Protection saved friend." He answered, his mouth seeming to struggle in forming the words.

"What?"

"Help to go forest. Family find to give?"

Kat could only look at the man, utterly baffled. Was he truly having so much trouble speaking in the Imperial tongue? A human? She'd never witnessed anything like this before. It could almost have been brushed off as an act if she didn't read genuine frustration in Blonde Hair's expression every time tried to speak to her. When Kat didn't respond, he looked back at Dark Hair, saying something in an annoyed tone that the other responded with in kind. Not only were they not speaking in Saderan, their dialect wasn't elven, dwarvish, or even the tongue used by the tribesmen in the frozen north. The mystery of who these men were grew larger with every passing moment. One that demanded solving by her own burning curiosity.

Deciding to take the risk of lowering her guard for a few moments, Kat closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, drawing upon the life energy blossoming all around her to cast the simple spell she hadn't found need to use in quite a while. Energy flowed from the ground beneath her, traveling outwards from all that was closeby, including the humans. A warm sensation crept up from her feet and made its way up her body. When it reached her head, the words that sounded mangled to her own ears began to form themselves into comprehensive statements.

"-Said you were good enough to talk to people!" Dark hair was saying pointedly.

"I didn't think we'd need to give a long explanation!" Blonde shot back. "We were told that all we'd have to do is show the dreamcatcher and then-"

"Hey!" Kat shouted to get their attention. "How about you start over from the beginning? Where did you get the Sigil?"

Both men looked at her again, Blonde Hair pursing his lips.

"Shit, I think she's getting impatient. I don't suppose she'd let us grab the word book, would you?"

"I can understand you just fine now." Kat said, speaking more slowly so they'd have a better time catching the words. "I cast a spell that allows me to see the purpose behind your words."

"…What did she say?" Dark Hair asked, and Kat felt like groaning in frustration.

"Hold on, I think it was that she understands us." Blonde Hair frowned. "Did I hear that right?"

"Yes." She answered, nodding her head for emphasis.

"Oh thank god." Dark Hair let out a sigh of relief. "But how in the hell can she get what we're saying?"

Kat bit the inside of her lip. Clearly there was still going to be at least somewhat of a barrier here.

"You know what, right now I don't care. I won't look a gift horse in the mouth." Blonde said, holding up the Sigil. "You wanted to know about this?"

"Tell me where you got it." Kat said, nodding again in case her words didn't come across.

"It was given to us by an elf girl named Tuka." He said, speaking slowly himself despite not needing to. "She said it would give us safe passage through the Forest."

Kat's heart started pounding in her chest. Tuka? Why in the name of the gods would she give her Sigil to these humans of all people? Had they somehow forced her to do so? No, their body language was all wrong for that kind of possibility, they seemed genuinely confused at being challenged, not fear of being discovered.

"Why did Tuka give it to you?" She asked. Blonde Hair frowned, probably piecing together what she was saying in his mind before answering.

"It was in exchange for a favor. We need to travel through Lonham Forest, and she wanted us to carry a message here. One of you Rangers named….uh….Cat? Cat something."

"Kat'lana." Dark Hair chimed in.

"Right, that."

"I'm Kat'lana." She put a hand on her chest, trying to keep the adrenaline of worry she could feel racing through her from making her limbs shake. If Tuka needed to send a message to her, there were better and more established ways of doing so, why resort to this?

"Oh hey, lucky us." Dark Hair said. "That was a lot easier than I thought, even if we kinda got our asses kicked for a second there."

Blonde Hair didn't look so relieved, if anything, his unbroken gaze upon her taking a sad tone as he carefully lowered his weapon.

"The Elven Village within Koan Forest was destroyed a few days ago, your cousin was the only survivor."

Kat's rapidly beating heart seemed to stop short, and drop into her stomach.

"It…it was destroyed?" Kat stammered, hoping desperately that her spell had somehow gone wrong, that she'd misunderstood him.

"I'm sorry." Blonde Hair answered softly, laying any doubts to rest.

"How?" Kat had to fight back tears from blurring her vision, her survival instinct not letting her give in to sorrow in front of these strangers.

"A Flame Dragon. It burned everything down to ashes. Tuka only survived by falling down the village well, protecting her from the fire and smoke."

A flame dragon. The ancient beast who only woke from its long hibernation to reign death and destruction upon the land. Human or Elf, town or village, noble or peasant, no such things mattered to the monstrosity as it burned and devoured its way across the land. Many had tried to slay such a beast before, from the most powerful of wizards to entire orders of mounted knights. It was all futile. And the thought of the Flame Dragon raining it's destruction upon the place where she'd been born…

Kat looked up to the sky, as if imploring the stars to intervene and somehow change the strands of fate. She hadn't been to Koan Forest to see her Uncle and Cousin in years, always putting it off by telling herself that they'd always be there later when she was less busy, they'd be there long after she died in the way pure-blooded elves had their vast lifespans. But now it was too late.

"The gods have taken so much in these times…" She whispered. "And it seems they will demand more still."

Neither of the humans answered, but whether that was to let her grieve or because they simply didn't understand what she was saying was impossible to tell. It didn't matter either way. All of her living family was gone now, taking with them the last ties she had of her mother.

No, that wasn't right. Tuka was alive somewhere out there, and even more alone than Kat was now.

"Tuka." She did her best to clear the sorrow from her voice so it wouldn't make her harder to understand. "Where is she?"

"She's in a refugee camp. Being cared for along with a number of human survivors who also encountered the dragon."

"Where?" Kat repeated, and she caught the unmistakable nervous glance exchanged by the men. They understood what she was asking, but weren't sure if they wanted to answer, and that put her instantly back on guard. Finally, Blonde hair turned back to her, the invisible argument apparently settled.

"Alnus Hill." He said.

It took a moment for Kat to place the name, but when she did, it hit her like a thunderclap. Even theForest Rangers had heard about the catastrophic military defeats the Empire and her allies had suffered to an unknown enemy. The merchants who they did business with had heard all sorts of rumors about what had truly happened there, but no one seemed to know for sure apart from the appalling loss of life that had included so many prominent nobles and their armies. Were these humans part of the force that had crushed the Imperial troops? If so, what were they doing this far away from their camp?

"Who are you?" She decided to ask.

"I am called Joker." The blonde man said. "My friend here is Reaper."

"Odd titles." Kat said, frowning. Joker cocked his head, shrugging his shoulders.

"Sorry, I didn't really get that."

"Forget it." She sighed. "What is your purpose here?"

"Our function…? Oh our job." The other said. "We're, uh, Hunters of a sort. Exploring this Forest."

"You choose a poor time to come here, Hunters." Kat crossed her arms, wondering just how bad this army on Alnus was at gathering wild game that they would have to send its members this far. "This has become a very dangerous place, an orc warband has set its sights upon this land and everyone within."

"…I only caught a couple of words in that, did you?"

"Think she said this place is dangerous or something." Reaper furrowed his brow. "Didn't get anything in the explanation."

"Yes, dangerous." Kat nodded in a slow and exaggerated manner, her annoyance with this entire conversation beginning to boil over.

"I think we can handle the danger." Joker said, turning a smile on her that was probably an attempt at being charming. "Don't need to worry about us."

"If you insist." Strangers or not, they had the Sigil that granted them passage and had apparently gotten it in an honest fashion. If they didn't want to heed her warnings, then it wasn't her problem to worry about them anymore. "I wish you luck on your travels."

"Goodbye to you too, glad we didn't have to kill each other." The human gave a wave that she suspected was meant to be comical, before glancing at his companion. "You know, we should probably crack open that dictionary during our free-"

Kat turned to leave, the words turning to little more than gibberish once more as she withdrew the spell. Giving one last glance back at the humans as they switched off their lights once more, Kat climbed up the nearest tree and started on her way again. As much as her curiosity wanted to keep watching these strange hunters, she'd wasted too much time on this little detour already. They clearly weren't orcs and they were content with keeping to themselves, which was as much as she needed to ignore them for the moment.

There was still the matter of Tuka, of course, somehow having found her way to Alnus Hill of all places. It didn't sound like she was being held as a prisoner, but Kat couldn't get away to go see her at the moment even so. It would mean abandoning far too many people to fight in her stead.

But the very moment that the orc threat was over, she privately swore to herself while feeling a fresh wave of sorrow crash against her heart, Kat would go to Alnus personally to make sure her cousin wouldn't be left alone in the world.

~oOo~

"We're about five mikes out from Bellhost Village." Lance Corporal Welch reported from the driver's seat of the Humvee. "At least if the map is accurate."

Mitchell gave a grunt of acknowledgement, continuing to look out the side window. He could see the slightly sunken eyes of his own face in the transparent reflection, an irritating reminder of the slight fatigue he was feeling even after the reinforcement of instant coffee. The previous night hadn't been a restful one. Every time his mind had settled into a blissful quiet, he'd see Rory Mercury's eyes, hear her voice and maddening laugh.

The way she'd been able to see right through him was completely unsettling. Not only did she know he'd been lying while he'd pretended to not grasp the Special Region language, Rory had somehow been able to peer into Mitchell's past and tag him with that fucking title of hers.

Revenant.

Just thinking about the way she'd said it sent a chill down his spine. Mitchell had never been a superstitious person, but having re-read her file in the absence of sleep was starting to make him question things, or at the very least hate this place even more. Rory Mercury had told the JSDF that she was the Apostle of a god called "Emroy", the deity that supposedly ruled over death and other related realms. The more he learned, the more vulnerable he felt about the gaze she'd leveled upon him.

"Yo Captain, you good?" Hamilton's voice intruded into his thoughts from the back seat. "Look kind of out of it."

"Just a late night is all." Mitchell answered, rubbing his eyes to bring himself back to reality. "I'm squared away."

He had to focus on the here and now. They were probably about to be in combat, the worst time for a Commanding Officer's mind to be on other things. Even if that hadn't been the case, Mitchell wasn't about to let Rory sit in his mind and slowly eat away at his sanity. Especially since there was a good chance that was exactly what she wanted.

Taking a drink from his canteen to disguise his momentary lapse in alertness, Mitchell took in his surroundings to bring his situational awareness back up to full. They were behind the lead Humvee in a mechanized platoon that was making its way across what passed as the road in the rural areas of the Special Region, with "Saint Asylum" at the rear. Bringing a tank to this kind of search and destroy mission was probably overkill given the technology level of their opponents, but Mitchell wanted to be ready in case that Flame Dragon Itami had come across decided to make another surprise appearance.

"We're coming into view of the Village now, boss." Welch said, and the Captain shifted slightly to get a better view from where they were.

"One-Two, what are you seeing?"

"About half a dozen foot mobiles sir, more coming out towards our side of the village." The lead Humvee reported. "Probably drawn towards the noise of the engines."

"Are they armed?"

"Maybe, hard to tell at this range. No RPGs or anything if that's what you're asking."

"Understood. Titan One, hang back with Archer One-Four. We'll call you if needed."

"Copy that." Vahlen answered.

"All other Archer callsigns, we're parking at the front of the village. Weapons tight, watch for civs. Rah?"

He got a chorus of responses, both from the radio and within his own vehicle. The Marines pulled the Humvees around in a half circle on the southern end of Bellhost Village, the riflemen dismounting while those on the gunner positions kept their heads on a swivel. Mitchell himself climbed out of his seat to move to the point position, motioning for the others to hang back for a moment while keeping one hand on the grip of his rifle. No one had challenged them yet, but that could change any moment.

The village ahead of him had suddenly gotten a lot more crowded, with over two dozen men now visible in the spaces between the buildings and the gap that existed from where the humvees had stopped and the settlement proper began. All seemed to be male, carrying weapons ranging from hatchets to broadswords sheathed on their backs, their rough and tumble attire and mannerisms simply wrapping together what was plainly obvious for all to see.

'They're not even trying to conceal who they really are, gusty bastards.' Mitchell thought. 'Then again, I don't think they would even know how to pretend to be simple farm folk.'

It appeared to be a larger group, just like Itami had told him. The question now was just how large that was, and whether or not they had any hostages with them. He has his doubts about the latter, having seen how soldiers in this world treated civilians during the battle of Ginza, plus they wouldn't be using the kind of human shield tactics that some of the extremists groups would sometimes take to during urban combat. A good twenty meters stood between Mitchell and the closest freebooter, about as close as he was comfortable getting given their armament. Law of War said they couldn't just start shooting, after all.

"I wish to speak with the leader of this village." He said to the assembled group, speaking in the Special Region's dialect. It wasn't like secrecy on that front would do them much good without a translator anyway. This wasn't the kind of situation that would be at the start of a typical search and destroy mission in Afghanistan or Iraq, not to mention the real limits of their jurisdiction were, at best, muddy. They'll have to play this by ear.

He waited several moments, wondering if these guys would even bother with the pretense that they rightfully belonged here, until one of their number stepped out from the group. Tall, well-muscled, and completely bald to show off the long and wicked looking burn scar that ran from the crown of his head almost to his left eyebrow. On his hip the man had a serrated blade, not sheathed in any cover that might have kept a wandering eye from seeing it clearly.

These bandits had chosen the biggest, meanest guy among their number to be at their boss, just like Mitchell had expected.

"I am Rolav, Chief of Bellhost." The man said, his voice low and gravely. "To whom do I speak?"

"Captain Mitchell, United States Military." He answered.

"And what brings you and your men to our humble village, Captain?"

"We're on a peacekeeping mission, good chief. Many bandits and outlaws have been plaguing this region, preying upon good and honest people who are just trying to survive." Mitchell narrowed his eyes slightly. "As I'm sure you're already aware."

Rolav didn't make an outward reaction, keeping his gaze steady, but in his peripheral vision Mitchell could see some of the other men in his group twitch.

"Eyes on two archers on the rooftops, one to your eight o'clock and one at your two." One of the Marines whispered in his earpiece. "We'll keep eyes on unless you say otherwise."

So they were at least smart enough to post men on the buildings in a sort of overwatch position. They seemed to be a tad brighter than the average highwaymen at the very least.

"I don't see how that involves us." Rolav said finally, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "We've had no such troubles around these parts."

"That is good to hear." Mitchell answered, deciding to continue playing along for the moment. "But you understand that we must be thorough in such an important mission. My troops will be conducting a search of all the buildings in your village, looking for stolen goods and other possible evidence that the bandits we're searching for may have come through here. If you'd please have your residents gather in the square while we do so, that would-"

"You'll be doing what?" Rolav cut him off, eyes widening slightly in surprise and more than a little outrage. Evidently, a door to door sweep wasn't something this group was used to dealing with.

"A full search of the village of course." Mitchell answered, his tone sounding almost bored. "It's a routine procedure, nothing to be worried about. So long as everyone cooperates, it shouldn't last more than a couple hours."

""I do not recognize the authority of your 'United States', I have not even heard of such a group!" The 'Chief' barked, and several of the bandits moved to grip the hilts of their weapons. "What gives you the right to do such a thing?!"

"The right of strength, friend." Mitchell said coldly, appealing to the only kind of reason men like these seemed to answer too. "Now, I ask again for your cooperation."

"We will give you nothing but cold steel, arrogant whelp!" Rolav drew his serrated sword and began charging at Mitchell with a berserker's fury. He didn't get very far, the Captain dropping to a knee and putting two rounds in his chest with a well-practiced move, the large man not even closing the distance halfway before dropping dead.

All hell broke loose after that, as other bandits brought out their own arms and tried to advance in a mad spree only to be cut down by precision rifle fire by the Marines. The archers above didn't fare much better, cut down the very moment they stuck their heads up to loose an arrow. Those who were lucky enough to survive this initial onslaught and smart enough to see the futility of trying again began fleeing into the village.

"Push forward, watch your corners!" Mitchell ordered, motioning with two fingers before getting on the radio. "Showtime, Archer One has engaged enemy irregulars at Bellhost. We're moving in now for a clean sweep."

"Copy all. Proceed as instructed and keep us informed, Showtime out."

Mitchell rose up from his shooting position and fell in with the rest of Archer One-One, moving along the left flank of the village. It was nostalgic in the worst kind of way. One squad was split up onto both sides of the "street", checking every corner and hiding place that could be between the buildings while another in the rear began the tedious and dangerous process of breaching said buildings. There was small comfort in the fact that these structures were a lot more basic than those the Marines were used to dealing with in the past, sometimes only being one room affairs rather than the complex and diverse homes that were common in modern life back home and a complete nightmare to clear effectively thanks to the many opportunities it granted a possible defender.

It also appeared that at least a large chunk of the bandits had been out front to greet the Marines when they arrived, as their numbers didn't seem to be anywhere near as strong the further into the village they got. That didn't mean they could let their guard down, as there were still a number of opportunists who were waiting to lunge from the shadows to put a blade into one of the Americans, only to be put down by another shooter that was covering their buddies. At some point, it seemed like the survivors finally grew half a brain, breaking away from the fight and running towards the north end of the village as fast as their legs could carry them without any reaction for the shouts to halt.

"One-Four, hostiles are making a run for the north!" Mitchell shouted as he tried to chase them down. "Come around the east side of the village and try to cut them off!"

He didn't wait for an acknowledgment, hissing in frustration as he watched the outlaws steadily outpace them, unburdened as they were without full combat kit or the need to keep their heads on a swivel for every step they took. Mitchell wanted to catch them, but didn't want to trade the lives of his Marines to do it.

It maddeningly took nearly a full minute for the squad to catch up to the outlaws at the edge of Bellhost, where Mitchell suddenly realized he'd made a mistake. These guys weren't just scurrying around for any kind of exit like rats on a sinking ship, they'd been going for their stables on the north-west side of the village. Four of them had reached their destination, and had used the time it took for the troopers to move through to saddle up on their mounts and start riding away. One-Four wouldn't be able to do jack shit while on the eastern side.

He swore out loud and brought his sights to bear against one of the fleeing hostiles. Shooting a retreating enemy in the back wasn't something they were supposed to do, but Mitchell didn't want to let these killers get away just to strike again somewhere else either.

The momentary crisis of conscience was cut short when the ground suddenly exploded just a few meters ahead of the riders, leaving a small crater in its wake as soil and grass was tossed about. All four horses rose up on their hind legs, crying out in fear and unceremoniously dumping their riders to the ground before racing away in all directions. Even the Marines stopped short when spectacle played out before their eyes, unsure what exactly had just happened.

They got their answer a moment later as "Saint Asylum'' came rumbling into view, its massive turret trained on the four bandits as if daring them to try to make another run for it. None did, their eyes wide with sheer horror at the metal monstrosity before them. With the situation once again clarified, Mitchell directed the squad to take the prisoners into custody, forcing the group onto their stomachs and zip tying hands behind backs.

He walked up to the Leopard Battle Tank, which popped its top hatch to let Vahlen stick her head out.

"I thought I ordered you to stay in the rear, Lieutenant." He chided.

"You said to stay with Archer One-Four." She answered, tone one of complete innocence. "When you ordered them to stop the enemy from escaping, I assume you meant for us to do the same."

"Right, I'm sure." Mitchell snorted, silently grateful for the German's initiative. "Just get back to the other vehicles and stay there unless I say otherwise."

"Jawohl." Vahlen climbed back down as the tank got moving again.

"One Actual, this is One-Three." His radio buzzed.

"Send it."

"We're moving in on the final structure in town sir, the big storehouse in the center. We're picking up on a lot of heat sigs within."

"Stand by, I'm coming to you." Mitchell waved towards one of the Privates who wasn't handling a prisoner. "Hamilton! On me!"

They jogged the short distance it took to get them back to the center of the Village, the storehouse easy to spot as it was more than three times the size of any of the other buildings. The other squad of Marines were formed up in a defensive posture, waiting until Mitchell gave the hand signal to stack up on the door.

He took position near the center of the formation, waiting for the others to settle in as he placed a hand on the shoulder of the man ahead of him. He felt a squeeze on his own shoulder, the ready signal, and he did the same to send it down the line to the front. Once it reached the end, one of the troopers stepped in front of the door, and forced it open with a solid kick.

They streamed inside, first one then the second and third. But no sooner had the second marine gone through that he heard the shout from within.

"HOLD FIRE! CIVILIANS!"

That gave everyone pause, and they entered the structure more carefully than the initial assault, Mitchell taking his hand off the trigger when it was his turn. He thought that maybe the brigands hadn't killed all the civilians here after all, and just instead rounded them up into the storehouse and told them to not cause trouble or else. But what he found instead caused his heart to be gripped by an icy fist.

At least a dozen women were within, all of them chained up to the walls and looking much worse for wear. None could have been older than thirty, some looked to be as young as ten. None wore much more than rags.

Mitchell had seen more than his fair share of slavery operations during his time with the Raiders, the familiar sickness settling in his gut as he looked between the victims

Several of them were asking for help, their voices little more than a whisper through dry throats, while others were trying to squirm away from the marines while begging for mercy. Some cried, some simply looked on with eyes that showed them broken on a deep level as they offered no reaction at all.

"Corpsmen!" Mitchell shouted, waving the medics inside. "Look over them for injuries, everyone else does the same while taking accountability. And make fucking sure there aren't any more of those assholes around here."

With his orders being carried out, Mitchell tended to the one nearest to him near the corner of the storehouse. She looked to be about twenty, but it was hard to say in her current state. She was one of those who hadn't said anything at all, simply watching as Mitchell went to work freeing her from the chains on the wall.

"You're going to be okay." He said assuringly in her language as he knelt down to be at eye level. "They won't hurt you anymore."

The woman drew in a shaky breath, likely unsure if Mitchell was someone she could even believe. Then she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. He let her stay there for a moment while he made sure that she wasn't seriously injured, but had to step outside in order to let the Platoon's Corpsmen do their jobs without him getting in the way.

"Showtime, Bellhost Village has been secured." He detailed over a transmission. "We have a contingent of One-Seven human females of various ages that were being held captive by the hostiles. Request assistance in evacuation and aid."

"Understood, Archer. We'll relay the request to the JSDF and they should get someone out there to help you. Out."

Mitchell nodded to himself as he signed off, accepting that his troops would just have to hold position until then. Not that he had any objections, he was going to make the women inside get the help they needed, even if he was supposed to hand that job over to the Japanese.

An ironic smile played across his face at that thought. Wasn't that exactly what Lieutenant Itami had wanted to do with his little band of refugees, and what Mitchell had chewed him out for doing? It wasn't exactly the same, at least he had gone through proper channels, but the same desire to help someone who needed was exactly the same. He'd almost forgotten what it was like, being able to do something like that. It was heartbreaking, no doubt about it, but it reminded one of the reasons behind why they did it beyond just the paycheck. That wasn't all just about killing people. It was a sorely needed reminder in an environment like this. It wasn't exactly a good feeling, but it gave more satisfaction than he'd felt at wearing the uniform in a while.

"Well, I guess that explains why there were so god damn many bad guys here." Hamilton said, coming to lean on the wall next to him. "They weren't just a bunch of robbers, they had a whole slave trade going on here."

"Looks like it." Mitchell agreed. "Have they said anything so far?"

"A lot of them aren't coherent right now, and none of us are as fluent with this shit as you. But from what we can tell, some of them came from this village, while others came from the surrounding areas. Bandits would come in, kill the men and take whoever they thought looked good enough to be sold." Hamilton spat on the ground. "Fuckin' pigs. You ask me, they got off too easily with just a few bullets."

"Don't start thinking like that, it'll mess you up in the head. The girls are safe and the bastards are either dead or will wish they were. Exactly how it should be."

"I guess, sir. Just wish we could have gotten here before they were taken."

"Even you're not superman, Private." Mitchell said, starting to feel a bit self-conscious about the words he was saying. "We can't be everywhere at once. We do what we can when get on the scene. That's all we CAN do."

Hamilton just nodded, pushing himself off the wall and going to stand closer to the door. For all his words and years of experience over the younger man, Mitchell couldn't help but feel the same. Retribution was always the desire of any decent person when they witnessed scenes like this. But all too often that desire could go to dark places, either losing all hope whatsoever when it proved impossible to reach, or going to a dark place because you suddenly had the idea that you were the true hand of justice. Mitchell had seen people fall into both sides of the scale, hell he'd his moments in both of them during his time.

Damn, he really wanted a smoke.

He'd left his own pack at Alnus, not yet one of those things that his mind would remind him to take. The temptation to start looking for one of the Sergeants to bum off of was just setting in when Mitchell suddenly had another thought, a deeply unpleasant one.

The men here were outlaws, there was little doubt about that. But was slavery actually illegal in this world? Mitchell was no historian, but he could remember from classes at University that slavery had been a big part of the ancient Greeks and Romans. No one that he knew of had even considered that possibility when talking about this strange Empire that they were supposedly fighting. Yet another mystery to be solved, he supposed.

But if it turned out to be the case that Slaves were indeed legal in this Empire, that could mean any of the women who'd been taken by the trader's who'd set up shop here may have already been sold before the Americans arrived. Gone into a Nation that didn't give a shit about that sort of thing...

Well, that was just another reason to burn the motherfucker down.

(A/N: "I really should update that GATE Story. When was the last time I did that?" *Checks Calendar* "...Oh")