"Old Wounds Fresh Blood"

Alan was starting to get bored. He'd been sitting in his pod watching the other personnel fight against technology that was the sim-pod's software and without much else to do he went so far as to almost take a nap while on assignment. Aside from the software needing to be updated, the entirety of the other team was late to the skirmish which made Alan being there all the more pointless.

After the Battle of Medusine, he and the other survivors had been dropped off at the nearest I.M.C. facility to undergo proper medical treatment. So far, Alan had little to do thanks to the ARES division being more organized for research than combat. It was only now, a month after he fully recovered, that he was able to do anything of note and that was essentially to run simulations over and over. It was certainly better than getting shot at for real, but eventually it got tiresome.

Taking a look around, Alan could see the dozens of screens showing only various loading bars and only two being used to work on the simulation he was about to be put in. In the center of the room was a ring of servers and on the largest screen hanging on the wall across from him was a scoreboard reading 'Null'. He sighed as he kept waiting, but now that he thought about it, he couldn't find his field commander anywhere. Normally, it would just be a junior officer training their own leadership skills by commanding squads of simulated infantry and other forcers, but they were also supposed to be one of the first ones on deck.

As if on cue, the doors to the room kicked open with a woman in a clean uniform. Although she kept her composure, Alan could tell that she had been in quite a rush. He quickly averted his eyes, not caring about her too much until someone's shout got his attention.

"Commander on deck!" They yelled. Alan instinctively climbed out of his pod and stood at attention. It wasn't common for an experienced officer to be assigned, but in trying to get a closer examination, their eyes met.

"Oh no." Alan muttered, looking away when he saw a sly smile pointed his way.

"At ease everyone. Pilot- Or should I say, Alan, what a pleasure to see you here of all place." She walked on over to him with her chin held high and arms behind her back, "You look nice, sleep well?"

"Don't push it." He said through his teeth. She's been like this since she got her promotion after the defense on Medusine, particularly toward him. To everyone else, she was just another officer handing out orders.

"What was that?" Vanessa frowned.

"Yes, Commander, I slept very well, thank you for asking, Commander." Alan complied, giving the woman an answer, she would be satisfied with hearing.

"Good, because you have a set of challengers."

"Challengers?"

"New recruits, fresh Pilots, whom from the sounds of things when I had to greet them and their officer, need to be shown their place. I guess since they're new, upper command thought it be pointless to give you allies, so you'll be the only Pilot on our team." She said, her tone became a lot more serious when she looked him in the eye. She went on tell him about the group of four, that they were arrogant, disrespectful of the chain of command, and their team leader in particular was a bit of a narcissist. Unfortunately, they signed up with the I.M.C. as mercenaries for a larger pay and as a result, they were technically outside of the chain of command in most cases so she could do nothing to reprimand them. With every fact she gave, she took another step into Alan's personal space, forcing him to retreat and back pedal in response until he found himself sat back down in the sim-pod's chair and Vanessa leaning in with him, "You'll do what you do best. Isn't that right, Alan?" She asked with a confident smile a little too close to his face.

"Will do, Commander." He returned the smile to Vanessa who pushed herself back outside the pod and watched the doors shut.

"Pilot credentials verified, welcome Pilot Alan Stassov." The pod's OS said to him as the pod digitally scanned the user within it in a ray of green lights. In a flash that had Alan shield his eyes, he opened them back up to find himself in a relatively small, dull white, blank room with few features and a wide rack of weapons and equipment, except none of it was anything he was familiar with. In front and above him was a screen showing a five-minute timer, on his right, the weapons and equipment, and on his left, a range with varying targets.

Alan's guess that this was the new stuff being implemented into the simulation's programming. Made sense as far as he knew, though it wasn't like he was a technician nor a programmer. Regardless, he needed to use the time to get a good handle of all this new stuff but he knew right off the bat that he would not have time to try out everything. First on the list was the equipment, worst case scenario he could just pick up a weapon from a fallen enemy, but the new equipment was the most important. Two sets of shuriken looking throwables, and one shaped like a canister, there was other stuff, several kunai hanging from a rack, a grappling attachment that looked like it went on his arm, and a disc-like 'thing'. He didn't know where to begin and already a minute had passed.

He started to throw caution to the wind and test them out one at a time. After equipping the grapple, he threw the kunai. The second it impaled into the ground it let out a sonar that his helmet could pick up, outlining the various targets and M.R.V.N.s that were passing by.

Useful by itself, but when Alan saw what the new grenade read, he saw its usability shine: electric smoke. He had absolutely no idea how it worked, but that didn't matter. He pulled the pin and tossed it and just like the 'Pulse Blade' (as his helmet had displayed) it exploded in a cloud of smoke on impact with the ground. He took an extra of each after realizing the combination the two presented.

Three minutes left.

Next, 'Firestar', sounded like he had read it somewhere before, but either way he could get a pretty good guess on what did. 'Gravity Star' came up last and after throwing it he found himself somewhat amazed that I.M.C. engineers and researchers could make such a small thing have its own gravitational pull, but again, he wouldn't know the science behind it.

Two minutes left.

Starting to worry about time, Alan grabbed the first weapon his hands could lay on. 'Volt', he read. It said this was an SMG? This thing was as a little heavier and as large as a R-101! Who in all of the I.M.C. classified this as an SMG? He was wasting time just thinking about it. With a minute and a half left to spare, he turned on his heel and fired about half the clip. Decent weapon, he'll give it that, but slow in fire rate if they are actually going to call it an SMG. It's got nothing on the R-97 that's for sure.

The last weapon he could grab was the 'Mozambique'. Holding out with both hands firmly on the handle, he pulled the trigger and a shotgun spread of energy came out at a rather slower pace. It wasn't the worst weapon Alan has ever had in hand, most of them served a specific role anyways, but he doubted he would ever see one of these outside of close-range combat and even then, there was the EVA to fill that role.

Alan sighed as the timer finally gave out. In another flash, he found himself opening his eyes to a city in ruins. He was captivated by the sight, before this new 'update' the best that could be said for urban environments were small two to three story buildings at best, but here was a legitimate city to explore and fight in!

The city had crumbled as if it had been the center of a war for months on end. The tallest towers were severed in half and sometimes resting on top of each other, the streets were littered with cars burned to a crisp and the streets were cracked and torn up from explosive impacts, and finally the sky was a smoggy brown and grey from the constant fires and smoke all around the city with only the only hint of blue was miles away at what might as well have been the edge of the simulation. Once the infantry and vehicles began running and rolling past him, the Pilot inspected his equipment only to find it was everything he had on him when the timer was up in the armory room. The Mozambique in his right hand, his old Hammond-2011 strapped to his leg, the grapple, and the two singular use equipment he had were at his disposal. He was annoyed, but he had to adapt with it all anyways. Phantom fighters rushed overhead, followed by Goblin dropships stopping at various locations to deploy additional forces when Alan heard a transmission go through to him: "Pilot," It was Vanessa, professional and stern, "This is an annihilation match, you kill the Pilots, I'll handle the rest. Over and out." She ordered.

Hitching a ride on top of a Paladin tank, Alan listened for the opening shots of the battle up ahead where scouting parties on both sides likely found one another and engaged. Alan knocked on the tank's hull, pointing at a building nearby but not giving any signs that there were enemies inside. The tank's controller, seemingly understanding what the Pilot was going to do, aimed the two barrels at the row of buildings as it continued to roll along its path. Alan climbed on the top of the tank, running along one of the barrel's length's and jumping for the wall. With the aid of his jump-kit, he followed the wall until he reached its end jumping off and into another crashing through a window frame didn't have any glass left in it. Once inside, he could hear the sound of a Spitfire being set up by a team of simulated Militia to ambush I.M.C. forces, but he wasn't about to let that happen. Putting the Mozambique in its own holster on his free leg, Alan turned the corner into the room and shoved one of the Militia Riflemen into a wall, stealing his… 'R-201'? He didn't have time to inspect it, instead turning it on the others and spraying two controlled bursts at the other two before finishing off the third and the fourth that was still on the wall. Now with time to inspect the weapon, Alan found that it was not much different from his traditional R-101. He couldn't give it a proper comparison aside from color and a few tweaks in the design.

Throwing down the rifle, he grabbed the Spitfire and used it against the Militia forces below him, quickly killing half a dozen of their forces before they took cover or retreated all while he could hear the running of footsteps in the hall behind him. With still half a drum to spare, he held the trigger down as he swung the machine gun to the other side of him, catching only a glance at an enemy Pilot that he was almost able to hit. Knowing that the enemy would keep in cover, Alan tossed the weapon at the doorway and jumped out of the window to climb a floor higher where he stabbed the dirty carpet that remained with his pulse blade. He saw the outline of the enemy Pilot breaching into the room he was just in but evidently, she had noticed that she was being tracked.

She was wielding a rifle or SMG as she quickly turned each corner and fire as if Alan were waiting for her, but he was only watching her scare herself. Finding a hole in the floor, Alan quietly hopped down a trailed behind the enemy Pilot. He unholstered his Mozambique and slowly raised his arm to the back of her head. Just as she turned back around to find the triple barrels before her eyes, Alan pulled the trigger and with a kick from the gun she went down.

As if a sixth sense told him, he grabbed his pulse blade and threw it behind him straight into an oncoming enemy Pilot who manage to stop it by sacrificing his left hand. Alan raised the one-handed shotgun, but the other Pilot called him out on it, "What can't fight fair? I demand a proper duel between Pilots!"

Alan sighed, normally he'd just pull the trigger, but orders were orders and he wouldn't want to imagine what going against Vanessa's orders would be like; since it would be him defying orders. He threw the weapon away falling back to a defensive stance while the rookie Pilot made the mistake of attacking without warning first. With a quick raise of his fist, Alan slammed it into the Pilot's head causing him to fall to his back from the sudden punch. It wasn't over though, he knew it too circling around the fallen Pilot, Alan waited for him to get up.

He did.

The enemy Pilot used his jump-kit, to pick himself up and continue the fight spinning himself around in the air to deliver a kick that Alan was quick to dodge. He punched the other Pilot in his exposed side and kicked his leg in so that he fell to one knee. Alan took his data-knife and went for a slash, severing one of the important straps for the Pilot's jump-kit though the enemy Pilot saw it as an attack that missed.

Getting to his feet the recruit proceeded to get into a fistfight with Alan, rarely able to get passed the well-trained guard of the veteran Pilot until finally throwing himself at Alan and pushing the two of them out the window. Alan put himself above the other Pilot, kicking off him to get some distance and slow himself down. The other Pilot tried to reach for him but was surprised when his own jump-kit did not respond to his movements resulting in a bloody splat against the concrete while Alan had just enough time to use his grapple to latch onto a bridge across the street and swing himself over so that he could slide to stop his momentum.

There, he was caught in between four Militia grunts, but Alan was quickest with the draw. He pulled out his Hammond-2011 and in seconds, gunned them all down from where he was lying. "Reports of another one headed your way, be ready, Alan."

Alan used his gear to get to wall running again. Staying still would only get him killed and he needed to get back to the action. Just as he entered a four-way street littered with craters and burned out vehicles both military and civilian, new and old, the third Pilot arrived and kicked him to the ground but Alan was quick to recover.

"Of course, the others weren't enough to beat you, were they? Guess now I have to do it." She said, drawing a knife and lunging forward for several slashes that failed to land a hit. "You know," She grunted, "You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be!"

Alan grabbed her wrist as she was going for a downward stab and kneed her in the stomach. She clawed him with her free hand but of course it did nothing against his helmet.

She got up to punch him but in her winded state, Alan only had to redirect the punch to his side and kick her to the floor. "Starting," She wheezed, "To piss me off."

The Pilot didn't seem to want to give up, but Alan didn't have to do much other than watch her struggle to get to her feet.

"Edwin'll show you your place!" She yelled. That's right, he didn't have time for this. As the woman went for a final stab, Alan grabbed her arm and pulled the knife from her hand. He stabbed her in the leg, then dragged her over to a crater despite her protests. "Say something dammit!"

"You lot aren't worth it." He responded, throwing her down into the small pit. Alan looked down on her and though she was wearing a helmet he could see the anger burning in her eyes, that didn't matter all too much when Alan pulled the pin of his grenade and tossed it in with the other Pilot, instantly making her disappear in the cloud of smoke before hearing gurgling from being electrocuted. Seeing their pride and confidence was almost nostalgic, just about every pilot to graduate from training always saw themselves as near indestructible, at the time they didn't know it, but he along with many of the more 'realistic' minded ones knew that they were not super soldiers, just trained with different equipment and skilled in using them.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alan continued his hunt for the last enemy Pilot. The best place for him to look would be the last skyscraper left standing tall, though it looked like it could fall over at any minute with the adjacent tower leaning against it. It was a terrible idea, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a Kraber fire from it. Now he knew where his last target was.

After clearing out a few squads of grunts trying to stop him and allow for allied forces to sweep around enemy lines, Alan began his long scale of the side of the skyscraper one floor after another as the shots from the .50-cal sniper rifle grew louder.

Eventually Alan made it to the highest floor still intact. "So, you made it, great." Said a man, likely the 'Edwin' the previous Pilot mentioned. "Not even Mary, huh?"

Alan stayed silent as Edwin showed himself.

"Oh, I see. Well I don't care about your silent treatment, but I'll show you our 'worth' old man!" Edwin exclaimed. Alan wasn't even out of his twenties and this is what his juniors thought of the other veteran Pilots? He'd say he was surprised, but he wasn't. There was always someone, down to the lowest ranks of the I.M.C. infantry corps, trying to make something of themselves, the only problem with these recruit Pilots was their pride was being backed up by the title of being a 'Certified Pilot'. He'd seen a number of Militia Pilots with that kind of mindset gunned down by a squad of grunts, so he was no stranger to this kind of behavior.

Alan blocked two of Edwin's punches, pushed aside a kick, and shoved the man back. Keeping on the defensive, Edwin took his data-knife and through it and by sheer luck and a little bit of reflex, Alan managed to catch it by the handle, taking the other Pilot by surprise and in that moment of fear Alan charged forward and tackled Edwin through a weakened wall and onto the floor with the knife being held at bay. Edwin received two punches to his side before kicking Alan off of him. "Christ, maybe you aren't half bad as the news and reports say." Edwin tried to gloat through his breaths.

Alan was perplexed, Edwin knew who he was, knew that he took care of the other three Pilots, and didn't even so much as scratch the veteran, yet still he acted like he had the upper hand in the fight.

"Come on, show me more!" Edwin demanded.

Alan sighed, getting into a guard stance. The man charged after him, but Alan shoved his shoulder into the other man, throwing him off balance before punching him twice in the stomach and a knee to the visor that caused it to crack. Again, he thanked the designer for the sturdiness and effectiveness of including it into his Pilot armor. From the corner of his sight, Edwin was starting to get back up, throwing off his helmet. As expected, even his face looked like it was still in training, black hair barely starting to grow out again and clean-shaven with tanned skin and dark eyes not having seen a single battlefield in the flesh. Then again, Alan too was forced to keep himself clean-shaven however being well-kept and groomed was policy dictated by a certain woman that he both knew all his life and now kept him on a 'short and tight leash' as Zohn put it long ago. He smiled and chuckled at the memory; He started to feel a little down now, he missed everyone on the Solaris. Those were better times.

But they were all gone now.

"Alan, we're bringing down that tower from the east side, I suggest you get out of there ASAP." Said a woman through his helmet's radio.

Speak of the devil, it was Vanessa. He was about to give a response when a fist collided with the side of his head. That's right. There was the fight in front of him. Memories of the past can wait for just a little while longer.

Edwin manage to score several hits against Alan, but it was not long before he got back on the defensive and delivered a heavy blow against the rookie Pilot. After seeing the other man stumble back, Alan took the chance to dive out the closest window on the west side of the building just as a pair of Phantoms flew by and unleashed a hail of rockets into the side of the building, causing it to quake and start to tip.

"Don't run you coward!" Edwin said as he followed after Alan. By now the building starting to fall over, allowing for both Pilots to slide their way down it without breaking into a freefall. A shot from a Wingman rang through the air. It missed, but that made Alan rethink his next move. He was almost to the roof of another building when the second shot rang out. Again, it missed, except Alan retaliated, firing his grapple upward to bring himself closer to Edwin who was still being set forward with his speed and momentum. Using those two against him, Alan struck a falling Edwin with a kick to the chest, feeling a few cracks coming from the other man's ribs.

Before they knew it, they were on the roof of another building. Alan was the only one left standing in the dust kicked up by the fallen skyscraper. Alan wanted a clear view of the Pilot before doing anything else. At his feet, the Wingman that the rookie was using. He thought about it, but he remembered once again that he was to show them their place. He made a slow walk to the fallen Pilot who was struggling to catch his breath, pulling his grapple with his other hand to show off the cable. As Edwin tried to get up, Alan made it a point to keep him on his knees, kicking them down when Edwin tried to stand. Quickly he wrapped the grapple's cable twice around the man's neck, pulling both ends as hard as he could.

"S-Shoot me!" Edwin choked out as he scratched at his neck.

"Apologize to Commander Botosova." Alan ordered, letting the cable just loose enough for the man to breath and speak.

He didn't. So, Alan pulled tight again.

"Say it."

"I'm S-Sorry." Edwin managed to say.

"Sorry what?"

"I-I'm S-Sorry C-Commander Botosova."

"For what?" Alan asked, letting the cable go just a little.

"For how my team and I-I acted toward command!" He managed to gather more air for himself, "Happy? Now end it!"

"Good, I expect you to behave in the future." Alan said, reaching down to grab the Wingman, "You should've left only one bullet." He said as he shot Edwin once in the leg, once in the lower spine, once in his upper torso, and finally, with the last bullet, shot him in the back of the head.

It was pretty brutal, even for him, but for some reason he just couldn't find it in him to give the man mercy like he somewhat did with the other three. With a small notification of 'Victory' showing up in front of Alan's eyes, the simulation came to an end. He sat patiently, quietly, for the pod doors to open up and outside he could hear the cheers of those on his team and a warm 'welcome back' from Vanessa herself.

"You even made him apologize, how sweet." Vanessa said to Alan who held a rather blank expression, "Alan? Everything ok?" She asked as she grabbed his hand to pull him out of the pod.

"Yeah, I think… I think I just need some alone time. A few bittersweet memories…" He said to Vanessa.

"Take all the time you need, just don't forget about me else you'll be paying, understood?"

He nodded. Yeah, he understood now.

A.N.: Here's a warm welcome back after some time away!

Oh yeah, this is a sequel to 'Friend and Foe' for those who are new here. You DON'T really have to read it to read this one, but it provides a little back story if you're interested.

Can't promise when there will be another update as this is more of a 'test', but anyways...

As always, enjoy!

~Firetoast312