The Second Renaissance

Part Four: The Age of Aquarius

-

I. Forte

Through these fields of destruction, baptisms of fire;

I've witnessed your suffering, as the battles raged higher;

And though they did hurt me so bad,

In the fear and alarm, you didn't desert me;

My brothers in arms...

-Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms

-

She felt them. It was just a difference in the way that the cool, dank air laid on her skin–it was a shift that tingled down her spine, but she knew what it meant. They had arrived, prepared to meet their doom. She smiled as, inside the Valley of the Rare Hertz, everything stilled, and each zoid realized that its former tormenters had come. One by one, they rose in the darkness and started to the golden shimmer of dawn.

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, and sent minute, silver strands of power with them, her children. They emerged from the shadows and thundered by, their heavy steps causing her loose hair to tremble. More and more poured from the shadows, a seemingly never-ending stream of claws and teeth.

One, a Liger, lowered its huge head in passing, and she lovingly wrapped her arms around it. Her hands didn't even begin to reach halfway around, but she tried, anyway. The feline growled in apology and pulled reluctantly away from her hasty embrace, then followed its fellows into the light.

And so it began.

-

As Thomas stared out at the approaching ranks of zoids, he suddenly felt very alone. Granted, nine military jeeps with about fifty men and one organoid idled at the hooves of his zoid, but it didn't matter. From the cockpit, he couldn't see them, and it was as if he faced the sea of glittering optic lenses and pristine fangs as one man in a handicapped zoid, the machine's movements all but totally nixed with the added weight of two humming generators. The zoid was ominously tilted as well, on the dipping slope that was customary for the edges of the Rare Hertz desert.

The insistent thunder of approaching zoids chilled him to the bone, and he imagined that he could feel the ground trembling. The desert that preluded that maze of valleys called Rare Hertz was rapidly filling with hostile forces. Overhead, a collection of Storm Sworders, Redlars, and Pteras Strikers soared, bright sunlight glancing off their wings.

On the very front line of zoids sat columns upon columns of Shield Ligers. The glimmer of their rose-colored shields was nowhere to be seen. Others filled in behind them; Thomas caught a glimpse of a Redhorn's Gatling gun and a Gunsniper's long-distance rifle, and swallowed nervously. Though the base of the fallen Ultrasaurus was on the other side of the Rare Hertz desert, those weapons could take it out easily.

And yet they didn't.

The sudden crackle of the comm. link startled Thomas, and he jumped, but relaxed at the sound of Irvine's voice.

"Hey, Thomas, when is this getting under way? We're bored," he drawled.

Thomas swallowed again. "I-I don't know, really. We have to wait for the signal from base–and for the electromagnetic pulse." After a moment, he added quietly, "Besides, do you really want to attack that? They're not even at full-strength, not yet."

Irvine was silent. Thomas thought for a moment that the line had gone dead, but the dull roar of marching zoids still came from the link; the un-muted sound filled the cockpit with an ominous racket. Finally, he replied, "How many...do you think there are?"

Thomas laughed, a bit hysterically. "They're all the zoids of Zi, what did you expect? At this rate, it's going to be five-to-one." He sobered and stared hard out the canopy's tinted glass; he couldn't bear to use the Beke unit's helmet, to see the statistics of each and every zoid that threatened them before his eyes. The thing would use too much of Beke's precious power, anyway. One hand holding his bangs from his eyes, he muttered, "What's the use? Why even bother?"

"Shut up." Irvine's tone was sharp. "Don't you start talking like that, or else we're dead. Besides," he sighed. "We have to be the distraction of the main force so that Van and Reese can get past." His tone turned cynical. "That's why we're out here, isn't it?"

"I know, I know. Sorry." A Storm Sworder swooped down lower than the rest, so low that he could hear the scream of its speed. "They're testing us," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Seeing how far they can go before we–"

"Do you think Van is acting oddly?" It was obvious that Irvine was consumed by his own thoughts, and hadn't heard. His comment had the air of one that had been bothering him.

Thomas frowned. "No, why?"

"I dunno, it's just..." Irvine hesitated. "It's just like...he's too comfortable with Reese...and not worried enough about Fiona. Not like...before, you know?"

Thomas thought for a moment, absentmindedly cracking his knuckles. "He has...changed. Grown up, I guess. And I know what you mean, I think." Van had seemed a bit more optimistic lately, and not as wound up as he was before. He frowned a little again. "It's almost like Reese..." He blinked in surprise.

"Like Reese has taken Fiona's place, right?" Irvine sounded extraordinarily grim, and Thomas realized that he must have come to a similar conclusion. He opened his mouth to say something, but a new link interrupted him.

"Is everyone in position?"

Thomas sighed in relief. "Yes, Colonel Hermann, sir, we are in position and ready to mobilize." He heard the exasperated exclamations from Irvine's end of the link, and smiled. "Just give the word, sir."

Hermann coughed. "Actually, Lieutenant Shubaltz, we have a bit of a problem."

Thomas's heart fell. "Which would be what?" He darted his nervous gaze over the ranks stretched out before him.

"The pulse's range isn't quite big enough. The zoids need to be, ah...closer."

Thomas heard himself ask faintly, "Do you want me to...to shoot at them?" Oh, please, please, no...

"If you would be so kind."

The color promptly drained from his face. For a moment, all he could see was the flash of an emerald optic lens, winking in the sunlight, and then he shook his head roughly. "I-I'm sorry, what was that?"

And then there was Karl's voice, calm and clear and steady. "Thomas, just get them a little closer. That's all we need, and then we can start in earnest."

Irvine glared at the jeep's comm. link for a moment, and then switched his gaze to the mass of milling zoids before him. He leaned against the frame of the vehicle and didn't say anything, just watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one Republican private swallow nervously. Everyone else was perfectly still.

Finally, Thomas's voice came, much quieter than before. "Yes, sir." The Di-Bison's hooves suddenly seemed to radiate intense heat, and they sank a little further into the loose desert sand. The generators hummed deafeningly, and the zoid lowered its head as the Megalomax cannons warmed.

The hum grew to a dull roar, and Irvine winced, resisting the urge to cover his ears. The vibrations echoed up from his feet and rattled his teeth. The roar grew in pitch, until it was almost a scream, and in such close proximity, Irvine wondered if something would shatter. Finally, the cannons fired in a tremendous crash, the intertwining golden beams shining like a second sun.

Twisting into the distance, the miniature star shot into the ranks of zoids with an earsplitting explosion, clouds of smoke twirling up into the morning's glow. For a breathless moment, nothing happened...and then one of them–a Liger, maybe–roared, a cry that strengthened with the voices of all the rest, a call to battle. And then they charged.

Irvine inhaled sharply and muttered, "You know, Thomas...that suddenly seems like it was a really bad idea." Thomas didn't answer.

Hundreds of clawed feet beat the ground, the booming steps of disaster coming ever closer. Irvine leaned heavily on the jeep's frame, his eyes hard. The flying regiment had doubled back to what he had come to think of as the zoids' base, and now turned sharply. Above the pandemonium of the larger, land-bound zoids, the Storm Sworder's boosters screamed as they gained speed.

Irvine swallowed hard. "They're going to use a sonic boom."

The private beside him became wide-eyed, and then drew in a deep breath. "I-I can't d-do this," he half-wailed, his hands shaking.

Irvine spared him a glare, and turned to face him. "Would you shut up?" He had to yell to be heard.

The young soldier half-rose. "But I don't want t-to–"

"You aren't going to die!" he roared. In a quick movement, he pulled out his revolver. "If you run, I will shoot you." The private gave him a terrified look, and sank back down. Irvine flicked his glance at the others around him. None of them looked likely to desert now. He caught Raven's eyes briefly, from where he stood by Shadow's side; the maverick just rolled his eyes.

Satisfied, Irvine turned his gaze back to the rapidly approaching zoids. The Shield Ligers stayed in front, their shields now activated. They were close enough for him to pick out the distinctive bobbing movement of Zaber Tigers, just beyond the front line. The sands thundered with their advance.

Narrowing his eyes, Irvine grabbed the comm. link. "Hermann, just wondering, but how close is close?"

"Not much further, Irvine. They're almost within range."

"I hope so." They were too close, surely. The pulse wouldn't move fast enough to disable the zoids. Closer, closer... They were close enough to use short-range weapons, missiles, anything. The zoids seemed to want to destroy manually all the humans they could, by teeth, claws, and sheer might alone. Irvine felt his breath quicken. "Now would be good," he growled, his rough fingers clenching the link too tightly.

"Be patient."

"I don't care. Now."

The Shield Ligers took one last leap and landed in a crouch, their huge paws dashing up sand in golden arcs. The Zaber Fangs behind them leapt to the sky, their jaws open in a soundless snarl, their razor-sharp claws outstretched to destroy the humans that sat, helpless, below them, halfway sheltered by the Di-Bison.

Despite himself, Irvine squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. A jarring boom startled him into opening them again, though...in time to see the Zabers plow heavily into the sand, their optic lenses dark. The electromagnetic pulse ripped through the charging zoids, throwing them to the ground in a single sweep. Three Storm Sworders spiraled to the sand with monstrous explosions, followed by the other flying zoids.

Irvine took a moment to snarl, "That was too close," into the link before yelling to the soldiers, "C'mon, let's move!"

Raven smirked and turned to Shadow. "You heard him, let's go." The sable organoid roared in agreement and flung his chest cavity open. Raven allowed himself to be enveloped in silver-blue light, and then the sensation of flight overtook him: the absolute weightlessness, and a jarring thump that reported certain success.

When the technicolor afterimages had faded from his vision, Raven gave a satisfied smile. "Not bad, Shadow." He ran gloved hands over the familiar controls of the hapless Genosaurer the organoid had chosen, and then cast his gaze over the landscape. All around were collapsed zoids, lifeless and boring. Raven rolled his eyes, and let the Genosaurer idle. Suddenly, a visual link popped up on the dash.

"Raven! What do you think you're doing?" Thomas looked quite angry, oddly enough.

Raven shrugged, glaring at the lieutenant. "Waiting. It would be boring to destroy them all when they can't fight back."

"That's not what I mean! You're not following orders."

"Sorry, I don't do orders." He lowered his eyebrows. "I fight, and that's all. I'm going to give these things as close to a fair fight as I can, which is more than they'll do for you." He smirked again. "Better get rid of those generators, if you want to fight at all." He darted his gaze to the side. "Oh, look, they're waking up. Have fun," he drawled, then cut the connection.

True enough, the zoids scattered around him were recovering; there was a Molga, a Guysack, two Command Wolves, and a Rev Raptor. Not bad, not bad at all. Raven flipped the switch to activate the foot locks, and started charging the Particle Beam. As the white-hot glow grew to a dazzling blaze, Raven sighed in happiness. "It feels good to be back, Shadow." The organoid growled in reply, and Raven smiled. "Fire."

The Beam erupted into a destructive ray of light, instantly wiping out half the zoids before him. Raising one foot lock, Raven twisted the aim to include the rest that were readying their own weapons. The stress on the support made it groan softly, but it didn't shatter like before.

When the dense electrical smoke cleared, a wide radius of destruction surrounded him. Satisfied, Raven darted a glance to base, and was glad to see that reinforcements were on the way. He whirled the zoid around to face the main force. The others would be fine–only a small resistance stood behind him. Rows upon rows of gleaming claws and teeth faced him, the stunned zoids having pulled themselves from an electromagnetically induced stupor.

Raven chuckled to himself. "Aww, look, Shadow, I think they're angry." Shadow didn't reply, that time.

The 'Saurer's foot locks drove heavily into the ground, and he began to charge the Particle Beam. Something roared from behind the glare of the Beam, but then Raven lowered his eyebrows and released the blinding destruction. As the dense smoke cleared, he scowled. There were too many of them–he had only carved a Genosaurer-sized hole in the ranks. They streamed past him, heading straight for the Ultrasaurus.

Anger sparked in his pale eyes. "Don't you dare ignore me!" he yelled, and took careful aim. The Genosaurer's claw shot across the stampede of feral machinery, and buried itself deeply into a Redhorn's bulky shoulder joint. With another yell, Raven began the mighty, relentless retraction.

Groaning, the Redhorn went down, and crashed into a Command Wolf racing by. Dragging the large zoid back towards him, Raven smirked as he affected a multi-zoid pile-up, the cable clotheslining one after another. He peppered them all with blasts from his plasma cannons, and finally dared a look behind him.

"What's taking them so long?" He yanked sharply on the line, and whipped it home. The wounded Redhorn somersaulted into a white Shield Liger and exploded mightily. Raven furiously punched open a general comm. link and roared, "Come on, what are you waiting for!"

Irvine, considerably pale under his tan, winced at the maverick's tone. Even from behind the orange canopy of a zoid, those approaching looked much closer than they should have been. He had claimed a Blade Liger; he may have fancied it to be Van's, but for that it was a nondescript grey. He nervously eyed the unfamiliar controls, and shot a look around at the others.

Beside him, a Rev Raptor rose and shook its head; giving a reptilian hiss, it promptly charged. Irvine bit his lip and gunned the boosters, following suit. A few hundred feet of empty sand...and then the enemies were all around him, a rushing river of glittering optic lenses. He slammed down the Liger's right paw and deployed the blades, slicing through the ranks in a single and fluid move as the zoid pivoted.

Without stopping to survey the resulting damage, Irvine twisted the Liger around and resumed his forward charge against the stampede of zoids, fighting to get closer to Raven. If they all remained separate units, they would be easy targets. It was lucky that the wild zoids were so focused on their goal of the Ultrasaurus, for they hadn't stopped to seek out what could be the only resistance against them.

There, up ahead, were the blasts of the Charged Particle Beam. The blinding flashes of light, echoed by booming explosions, reported Raven's success. The rushing zoids before him suddenly swelled and quickened, pushing Irvine further and further back.

The Liger roared, and reared back dangerously on its hind legs in an attempt to keep its balance. He gritted his teeth, shoving the stabilizers down. "What–! What is going on?" He was suddenly blinded, though, as everything seemed to freeze in an array of white-hot light, and managed to twist the zoid down to fall heavily onto its side.

The flash faded, and Irvine shook his head roughly, his eyes tearing up. He pushed up his treasured binocular eye patch and scrubbed at his left eye furiously. He darted a look up, and gasped. The black Genosaurer Raven was using stood directly before him; the only thing blocking the view were piles of ash.

"Raven!" he yelled, opening a visual comm. link. "You shot at me!"

"Oops," was the infuriatingly insincere reply. "I suppose that means you should get out of my way, doesn't it?"

Irvine struggled to right the Blade Liger, cursing its bulk and Raven, all in the same breath. "You're the one who called for help," he shot back.

Raven snorted. "I didn't call anyone. I just don't want to do all the work. Besides," he smirked and narrowed his eyes, "I was under the impression that this was a team effort." He whirled the 'Saurer around to clip a passing Command Wolf with its tail.

"But you're the one that won't take help! You're the one–" Irvine spluttered indignantly, firing sporadically at a Gordos' legs, crippling it to be trampled by its fellows.

"No, that's not what I mean." Raven drove the foot locks back down to the sands, and powered up the Particle Beam for another round. "What I mean is," he shot a look at Irvine, "can you keep up with me?" On "me," he fired, and Irvine narrowly ducked the facetiously aimed blast.

As the Liger skidded to a stop, Irvine tucked the boosters back from their reverse position and could only stare at the Genosaurer for a few long seconds. "You punk," he muttered, chuckling. "You absolute punk."

Raven smirked. "Naturally."

Irvine made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. Just like Van...they act so alike. Before he could totally finish his thought, though, Raven interrupted again.

"While we're on the subject of team effort and all..." He trailed off. When met with Irvine's blank expression, he gave an exasperated sigh. "The kid with the Di-Bison? Did you lose him, or something?"

Irvine blinked in surprise, then lowered his eyebrows and turned back towards the Ultrasaurus. "Hey! Thomas! Are you having problems, or what?"

Thomas spared him a look, frantically targeting the zoids around him. Sweat rolled off his face in miserable washes of heat as the temperature in the cockpit rose steadily. As a Helcat before him exploded in a burst of black electrical smoke, he growled, "Shut it, Irvine, not now."

"Just get up here with us, we need you to help pick these things off–your zoid totes more firepower than these do, I think." Irvine sounded exhilarated more than anything, and Thomas scowled, wiping his forehead with an equally damp sleeve.

"I...can't." He gritted his teeth. "The Bison will overheat." At that precise moment, the cockpit's clean overhead lighting turned a very angry crimson.

"What? You can't be serious." Irvine laughed, somewhat incredulously. "You still have those generators?"

"Ye-es..." He squinted and cursed to himself, seeing the still-advancing ranks of zoids. "Don't they ever end?" he muttered.

Then, glancing around to be sure of the reassuring presence of backup, he yelled, "Commence counterattack now! Do not let them reach the Ultrasaurus!"

Amid the chorus of "Yes, sir!"s, Thomas heard Irvine sigh. "I would suggest getting rid of those things, now."

"Beke needs them to run, I can't."

There was a muffled voice from the other end of the link, and Irvine snickered. "Raven says to tell you you're an idiot."

Thomas glared at him and yelled, "Fine! Fine." He slammed his fist into the side console, releasing the magnetic locks. The Bison immediately straightened as the humming generators fell with a crash. Amid the fountains of golden sands, the sweltering cockpit's temperature finally started to lower. The red warning lights dimmed to a neutral amber.

"There, you happy?" he snapped.

Irvine grinned at him. "Yes, quite." And then he cut the link.

Thomas rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the battlefield. "C'mon, Beke, target all of them you can." A shrill whistle answered him, and the charging zoids before him suddenly sported red crosses. He stripped off his gloves and threw them to the floor in disgust, then resumed his grip on the main steering column. "Fire!"

The battlefield erupted mightily into smoke and flame.

-

Bright explosions bloomed beneath the dimmed observation deck of the Ultrasaurus. Van held his breath, his hands pressed anxiously to the cool glass, as a silver Helcat launched itself at the huge zoid. A seemingly lucky shot caught it in midair, and it collapsed into flames.

He sighed, relaxing a little. That was the closest one yet, and he and Reese hadn't even left. She was off making so-called "preparations," which left him frustratingly idle. Another bright flash below caught his attention again.

The battlefield was a wild mêlée, a kaleidoscope of more zoids than one could ever imagine. Crashing blows and animalistic sounds echoed against the valley's walls. Thomas was at one end, desperately defending the area closest to the Ultrasaurus, and Raven was at the very edge, picking off enemies in groups of at least ten at a time. Van clenched his teeth; every bit of his inner logic rebelled against the concept that Thomas, Irvine, and Raven were out there, fighting...and he wasn't.

He leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes. Reese had mentioned to him that it was his obligation to go find Fiona, at this point. As much as he would have appreciated fighting for the humans of Zi, he had a duty to Fiona. Something of a promise he could never break. It was understandable and acceptable, because he felt the same way, like he'd always known it was his duty and right, that she was his responsibility.

Of course, Reese had the most right to speak of duty. She understood that her pride as an Ancient Zoidian was at stake, and she had to preserve the dignity of her race by putting an end to the madness. She had recognized that she couldn't do it alone, and asked the very people she hated for help. Of course, she acted like she was doing them all a favor. That her actions held some rationalization was a bitter deduction, mostly because of her attitude about the whole thing.

Van wasn't entirely sure how they were to get to Evopolis unnoticed, nor did he really understand what Reese had meant when she referred to Fiona as "their new Eve." As wrong as it felt, he would have to place all his trust in Reese, and Reese's pride. Surely, that was all that was dictating her actions and judgment.

The sound of soft footsteps brought him from his reverie. He sighed and straightened, then turned to the door, muttering, "It's about time, Reese, what took–" The words died on his lips.

The Empress Marianne stood in the doorway, tears glistening on her cheeks and her dark eyes wide. She clearly hadn't expected to see anyone on the observation deck, and suddenly Van felt very uncomfortable.

"Um...sorry. I'll just, uh...leave. Sorry." He started forward, averting his eyes.

"No, no, you're fine." The young girl smiled thinly at him and scrubbed her cheeks. "Don't go, you were here first." Then she focused on the view behind him, and her eyes grew wide with shock again. "Oh, wow." She moved past Van in a rustle of skirts to press her hands against the window.

After a silent moment, Van shifted uncomfortably. "Are you...okay, um, Highness?"

Marianne looked at him sharply, but waited a few beats before answering. "Lieutenant Flyheight? Do not...call me that."

Van stared at her. "Then what would you have me call you?"

The girl suddenly looked very tired. "If anything, Lady Marianne." She turned her gaze back to the battlefield and whispered, "I am no Empress." Another booming explosion illuminated her features in ghostly light.

Van swallowed hard. "Why do you say that?"

"I can't run my country, I can't defend it. I can't inspire respect or hold any sort of power. I'm utterly useless–too young to make a difference, and too old to be apathetic...I can't rule." She said it all in a soft monotone, without ever taking her eyes from the battlefield before her.

Van stared at the depressed girl, the beginnings of pity in his eyes. "How old are you, Marianne?"

She looked to him levelly. "Sixteen. Seventeen in two months." A challenge grew in her eyes, almost daring him to contradict her.

He shrugged. "That's not too young. Really, it isn't."

Marianne blinked, then turned back to staring at the battle. "What were you doing when you were sixteen, Lieutenant?"

"Um...training with Krueger. I think." He frowned. "I can't really remember."

She nodded, and her gaze lost its focus as she sighed heavily. "They think I'm a child."

Van blinked, suddenly very confused. "Who does?"

"All of them. Colonel Shubaltz, especially. I'm just a load of trouble, to them. I probably shouldn't have come." She laughed softly. "Rudolph will be so angry." The last bit was mostly to herself, and tears started to well in her eyes again.

Van sighed and searched his mind for something to say. He turned his gaze to his reflection in the glass, willing a comforting word to come to his mouth...but then, his eyes focused on the battle beyond the window. A red Zaber Fang suddenly burst forth from the mêlée. With a powerful leap, it surged into the air. Its claws outstretched, its empty cockpit glimmered in the erratic muzzle flashes surrounding it, and the emerald optic lens seemed to focus, to stare straight at the Ultrasaurus...straight at him.

Van gasped and lurched forward, grabbing Marianne's wrist. She squeaked as he dragged her forcefully from the window. "Lieutenant–what are you–"

"Please, your Highness," he muttered raggedly, lapsing into habitual respect. "Just run."

Weaving between control panels and anchored chairs, Van yanked the Empress of the Guylos Empire along...until a massive shadow fell across the far wall. He threw the girl in front of him and crouched with his arms around her narrow shoulders.

There was a full second of absolute silence, and then the observation deck erupted into flying shards of glass and roaring flames. Marianne shrieked, and managed to make herself smaller, trembling against Van's chest. He kept his eyes firmly shut, even as something thudded numbly into his bare arm, and the glass cut into his cheeks.

Finally, the rain of stinging shards lessened and slowed. Van stood, blinking blood from his eyes. Marianne clung helpless to him, her wide eyes riveted on the scene behind them. He turned to look, and flinched. The Zaber was dead, attacked from behind in its kamikaze attack on the Ultrasaurus, and was firmly wedged into the small window space. Flames licked at its claws and gaping jaws, and the roars and explosions of the battle filtered in.

He shook his head and extended his hand to Marianne, where she still knelt on the floor. She blinked at him and whispered, "Lieutenant, y-you're bleeding."

Van scowled and impatiently mopped his cheeks with his sleeve. It came away streaked with crimson. "I'm fine, don't worry." He held out his hand again. "We need to get out of here."

She hesitantly took it and pulled herself to her feet. She started limping slowly to the door, supporting herself on the desks anchored to the floor. Van came behind her and scooped her up, going into the hall at a quick walk.

"Sorry, ma'am," he panted. "But we have to get to the main control room as soon as possible." Marianne didn't answer, just clung desperately to his neck, terrified.

A sharp, jerking pain at his right forearm made him yelp in surprise. He glanced over his shoulder to see Reese walking briskly beside him. She examined the two-inch shard of bloody glass in distaste. "I can't leave you alone for ten minutes, can I?"

He glared at her. "Shut up, Reese. Now's not the time." Marianne stared at the Ancient Zoidian, wide-eyed.

Reese shrugged. "Whatever. What happened?"

Reaching a doorway, Van shoved it open with his shoulder. "A Zaber Fang attacked the observation deck. The damage is confined to that area, though."

Reese didn't seem surprised, but just nodded thoughtfully. "I see."

Starting up the flight of stairs to the main control room's elevator, Van said sharply, "When are we going to leave?"

"Whenever you're ready. I would, however," she eyed his bloody appearance, "suggest you change your clothes."

He rolled his eyes at her and stepped inside the open elevator. The navigation controls glowed in an otherwise dark area, and Reese joined him in the eerie light. The elevator began to lift soundlessly, and the ride was less than two minutes long. As the doors opened into the clean light of the main control room, the spectacle they made created an amazing disturbance, consisting mostly of horrified gasps.

"Lieutenant Flyheight!" Hermann looked almost angry, but anxious more than anything. "What happened?"

Van sighed and gently set Marianne on her feet. "A Zaber Fang attacked the observation deck, sir. It is no longer functional, but caused a small fire."

Karl started forward. "Is Her Majesty unharmed?"

"Yes, just shaken." He turned to Hermann, saluting tiredly. "Reese and I will be leaving shortly."

Hermann nodded, returning the salute. "Understood, soldier. Good luck."

Van turned to see Reese waiting impatiently in the doorway. He looked back to Marianne, noticing for the first time that her cheeks were smudged with his blood. Placing a hand on her head, he leaned in close and whispered, "You are an Empress." As her eyes widened, he pulled away with a little smile to join an exasperated-looking Reese.

As the elevator's doors hissed shut behind them, he heard Marianne plaintively call, "Be careful, Lieutenant."

-

As the Di-Bison's cannons powered down, Thomas heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that the suffocating onslaught of enemy forces was finally beginning to lessen. Even though the main defensive line had been pushed back to the very shadow of the Ultrasaurus, they were holding it strongly. It was almost over. Over.

There had been the Zaber, though... The sight of the tiger-zoid launching itself at the humans' base of operations had stilled his breath in horror. But no urgent reports had come from the control room, and so they carried on.

Most of the recruits behaved like dignified soldiers, an organized firing line of death. There were, however, those impressionable few... Thomas glared at the front lines, where a Blade Liger and a Genosaurer slashed their way indiscriminately through the ranks of pilotless zoids. A motley collection of slower zoids straggled after them.

Thomas ground his teeth. "Irvine, you're making my soldiers break rank," he muttered.

The mercenary laughed. "So what? We need a few out here to cut down on how many get through to you."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "That's not the point."

Irvine shrugged, lazily pivoting the zoid around to slice through the chest of a Rev Raptor. It collapsed with a hiss. "What difference does it make, so long as they're doing something? If they can keep up, I don't care. Besides," he grinned. "Didn't Hermann say that all three of us would be leading factions?"

"No," Raven replied flatly. "I am not babysitting any snot-nosed little Republicans out here. Absolutely not. They can get themselves killed without me."

"Or Imperials," Irvine added. "Don't worry, they wouldn't follow you, anyway."

"Good," came the stiff reply.

Irvine darted a glance behind him, and smirked at the sight of about ten zoids trailing behind him, imitating his leaps and kills. Not that there was much left to kill–the resistance was thinning at an absurd rate, almost as if the humans were actually winning.

"Hey, Thomas." Winning? No way. It's too soon for that.

"What do you want?" Thomas sounded exasperated. "I'm kinda in the middle of something, here."

"Doesn't this seem at bit too...easy?"

"Maybe for you. Don't brag, it isn't becoming."

Irvine scowled. "That's not what I mean. We hardly have any enemy forces up here."

"Oh. Uh. Well, we still have plenty, if you care to help."

Irvine rolled his eyes, slashing through one of the last Dark Horns in the area. "No, never mind." He stopped the zoid and looked to where he'd last seen Raven. The 'Saurer stood atop a large sand dune, unmoving. Irvine frowned and started toward him.

"Sir? Where are you going?" The comm. came from a white Command Wolf to his right.

Irvine waved him off. "Oh, nothing–I'll be right back, you guys stay here."

The Liger trudged through the sand alone, and finally, the eerie silence of the desert that had previously been churned into golden waves seemed to be a tangible thing. Irvine swallowed hard. "Raven? Something wrong?"

The reply was a moment in coming, and when it did, Raven's voice was quiet. "You thought it was too easy?"

"Y-yeah...why?"

"Well, it was. And that is why."

Irvine frowned again, but then the Liger crested the rise, revealing exactly what that was. His eyes widened as he took in the ranks of Iron Kongs, Gun Snipers, Stealth Cobras, and so many more, waiting at the edge of the battlefield. From the other end of the faintly bowl-shaped desert, they should have been visible...but must have moved in after the first assault.

There: a flash of crimson–Raven's Genobreaker. And, undoubtedly, his precious Lightning Saix, as well. The real threat was the zoids that hadn't been present. The elite. Those specially developed by the respective countries. Those zoids were poised for action right before him.

He fumbled for the comm. link switch. "H-hey, Thomas?"

"Irvine? What are you doing? We aren't here to sightsee, get down here and help!"

"Were there any fatalities?" So many grinning fangs and clawed feet, ready to charge. They were waiting motionlessly until the moment when the humans had killed the others, until they thought they'd won. The others...the decoys.

"What? Uh...no, I don't think so."

Irvine barely heard his own faint reply. "Good. We're going to need them. All of them."