"Monica, what's the status of the fleet?" Captain Wilder asked. "Our forces are down to around 50% strength, but it looks like we outnumber the Galaxy-Vajra fleet again. At this pace, we'll have destroyed their entire fleet in several minutes," she proudly reported. Commander Ortiz pumped his fist in celebration, "Alright! What's the next course of action? Demand a surrender?" Wilder nodded in acknowledgment. "Lam, give me an open channel on the hailing frequency." She quickly punched up some commands on her console and gave the Captain a nod.

"This is Fleet Captain Wilder calling the Macross Galaxy fleet. In the interest of preventing the deaths of many of yours and our soldiers, I hereby demand the unconditional surrender of all Galaxy-controlled ships on this battlefield. Your forces are now outnumbered and outgunned, and continuing to fight will only lead to your absolute destruction. To save the lives of all of the brave soldiers engaged in this fight, I beseech you; surrender now, or you sentence them to their deaths." The Quarter's bridge remained silent while they waited for a response.

Several moments passed with no reply. Commander Ortiz was getting a little antsy. "Captain? Do we continue to press our attack or should we wait for a reply?" Captain Wilder wanted to wait for one more moment, but it quickly passed. "Keep up the pressure. Do not give them a chance to destroy any more of this fleet!" "Yes, Sir!" Ortiz responded with a salute. He turned to continue monitoring the ship's status as the barrage raged on in front of the ship. "Lam, continue to repeat my message to the Galaxy fleet every 30 seconds," Wilder ordered. Another discharge from the Quarter's Macross Cannon followed shortly afterward and more unfortunate lives perished in its aftermath.

"Look at you... you're a mess!" Klan said to Cal as she used her Queadluun to grab his RVF by its shoulders and straightened out its posture. "We can't have you going into battle looking like this, can we?" The Queadluun began to stroke in a dusting motion the RVF battroid's torso where it had taken some damage from the VF-27's melee attack. Cal remained sheepishly quiet while the Queadluun collected the parts that Cal had jettisoned from his bird during his fight. "Here, you dropped these..." She aggressively attached the MDE bombs back onto the hard points under the wings, which were folded behind the battroid at a 45 degree angle away from the body. The whole scene was reminiscent of a couple getting ready for dinner at a fancy restaurant. She then handed the radome to Cal from in front of his battroid. "Don't forget your 'hat'! Ha ha ha..."

The radome's shape did look a little bit like a hat for some giant mechanical person, but in reality, it went on the back of the RVF in all three of its configurations. Cal made a bit of a goofy laugh over the comm lines, but he tried hard not to make it too loud. His battroid quickly converted to fighter form and he fired his verniers with precision, in order to "dock" with the radome. A quick clicking sound, and the RVF-25 was ready to go again.

"What is this new toy you have? It looks quite a bit different than your last Queadluun," Cal asked. Klan had been waiting for him to ask, and she almost looked forward to answering it. "Um, I can't really talk about it. What you see is what you got, but what I will say is that it's a prototype and guess who gets to fly it?" Cal had an ear to ear smile when he heard her answer. "You've got to be shitting me... You're a test pilot now too?" Those were pretty much the exact words that Klan was hoping he'd say. She bathed in the feeling of accomplishment; almost certain that she could sense the envy coming from Cal. "Yup!" she proudly replied, "Just don't talk about what you see, or you'll get me into more trouble than I am already in right now..." "Huh?" Cal replied. His response went generally unanswered and Klan moved on to the more important issue at hand.

"Okay, let's get back to work here. What were Pixie Team's orders for the battle?" Klan asked as her Queadluun boosted back towards the Quarter's battlegroup. "We were defending the Quarter from the attacking squadron of VF-27s and Ghost V-9s." "Man, they stuck you guys with defense? How'd you guys manage to do that?" "Commander Lee said it was because we were short a pilot... you, basically. We had chosen a new pilot just a few hours ago, but we obviously didn't have time to get him transferred." Klan knew she should have guessed that answer. "Oh yeah... Where are Nene and Will anyway?"

Cal took a moment to answer, a little upset that the last time he saw them, they were floating nearly helplessly through space. "That 27-gamma tore us up real good. He shot both of them down before I could even get there to help out. Hang on..." Cal changed his comm line before speaking again. "Will? Nene? Are you guys still okay? Where are you?" A moment passed before there was a response from Will. "Yeah, we're doing okay, I guess... I took Nene to one of the Zentraedi ships so they could tend to her wounds." Will stood in the massive hangar on the Zentraedi ship, dwarfed by his own battroid and the Zentraedi soldiers and equipment nearby. "They are stabilizing her in the hangar right now, but they said that she should be okay with a little medical attention. Glad to hear you're still with us."

Cal breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, I will get back to work out here. Oh! Guess who I ran into out here?" "I know; I heard you guys on the radio. Hi, Klan!" Will said. "Hey. You take care of my sister, you hear? I expect you to be by her side while she's in the hospital." A brief silence followed Klan's sentence until Will finally responded. "Yeah, I got that. You take care of Cal out there. I expect you two to quit messing around and get to the heart of things after this is over." Both Cal and Klan were a bit taken aback by Will's forwardness. Before either of them could say anything, Will blurted back out again. "Ah, they're taking her to the infirmary now. I gotta go, guys. Good luck out there!"

The radio cut out and Cal and Klan were left alone once again. "What did he mean by that?" Klan asked with a slight laugh. Cal practically answered before she finished her question. "It's nothing! Let's just focus on the task at hand, okay?" She smiled as she noticed a bit of redness beginning to form on Cal's cheeks over the comm line's video feed on her monitor.

It didn't take long for his complexion to return to normal, however. A look of worry overcame his face and he deeply sighed. "What's the matter?" Cal turned his head to look out of the side of his cockpit before answering. "That 27-gamma is still bothering me. He busted us up without much effort. In the end, he was just too much to handle." Klan knew exactly how Cal felt; her past encounters with Brera Sterne ended in her defeat. "Even though I was still quite a ways away, I actually had found you right when you started your fight with him. I watched you tangle with him on an even level and you even got a few licks in on him. That flashbang was genius! It's too bad he was able to predict your next attack and get away, though. I could tell that you definitely gave his confidence a good shaking with that series of moves!"

Cal felt a little better hearing those words from the one pilot whom he respects more than any other. Klan continued with her critiquing, "Once you guys started trying to outmaneuver each other, I was having trouble catching up because you were both moving so fast!" "Yeah, but apparently, I was moving too fast. The ISC and EX-gear couldn't hold back the g-forces and I eventually blacked out. That's why I lost control. It was foolish of me to fall into his little trap like that. He was probably planning on taking advantage of the fact that I don't have a cyborg body capable of handling those intense forces like that. My pride almost got me killed..."

Klan didn't like to hear him tearing himself down like that, even though his self-analysis was probably correct. "Hey, on the bright side, it looks like you've already begun to outgrow some of the capabilities of the 25! Those 27s are incredible machines and for you to be able to fly at their level, it says a lot about the pilot." Cal started to blush again at the compliments being showered upon him, despite his failure to defeat his opponent on his own. For some reason, he didn't sense his ego beginning to overcome his personality. Klan's comments were just what he needed to get his confidence back.

As they neared the Quarter's battlegroup, a brief silence fell over their cockpits. Klan heard a demure voice coming from Cal. "Klan...?" "Hmm?" Several seconds passed; he seemed to be having difficulty saying what he was thinking. "I know, Cal. I know." Sensing his discomfort, she had to help him out a bit; even if she couldn't be sure of exactly what it was he was trying to say.

Cal approached his previous defensive position just above the Quarter's flight deck and informed his mothership of the status of his team. "I'm all that's left of Pixie Team, but I found an old friend to help us out!" From inside of the bridge, a familiar red Queadluun could be seen passing by the bridge, but its configuration was quite a bit different than the Rhea that they were used to seeing. "This is Charon-1 ready to assist Pixie Team in the defense of the Quarter," Klan reported in.

Captain Wilder narrowed his eyes and responded to Klan. "Commander, I was under the impression that you were stationed on Aimo. Would you mind telling me what you're doing out here?" "I'm out here in response to the attack on your fleet. I can go into further detail in a private briefing, if that's okay with you." Wilder didn't like this one bit, but he definitely needed all of the help he could get. After all, it was his highest priority to put an end to this bloody battle as quickly as possible and with the fewest deaths possible. "Acknowledged. Carry on, then."

On the front lines, Ozma, Alto, and Kanaria continued to lead their teams in an attempt to break the defenses of the main Galaxy fleet. The lines of influence fluctuated back and forth for the majority of the battle, but the waning combat strength of the Galaxy fleet began to yield to the determined Frontier forces. Alto watched from his cockpit as a group of his own missiles impacted upon the hull of a cruiser and destroyed several of its defensive turrets. A quick turn from his battroid, followed by a spray of gunpod fire, and an attacking Ghost V-9 drone met its end in a fiery death.

"Ozma, it looks like these guys are ripe for the picking. Should we push forward into their ranks to devastate their fleet?" Alto asked. "We're almost ready, but I am a little concerned that we're starting to run low on ammunition. Plus, that Vajra cruiser is stubbornly blocking the way into the heart of their formation. What we need is some heavy firepower to strike the cruisers hard and quick," Ozma replied. Kanaria's voice sounded over the radio in response to Alto and Ozma. "Leave that Vajra cruiser to me. I'll have it down in a few moments!"

The VB-6 was still confidently perched upon an asteroid, repositioning itself to open fire upon the nearby cruiser. The high-explosive artillery rounds began to impact upon the hull of the cruiser, tearing away at its structure with each blow. As if it was being prodded by a sharp object, the cruiser started to turn its orientation towards the source of its annoyance. An eerie green glow began to emanate from the beam cannon emitter array while it gathered the energy necessary for the firing of its main cannon.

"Shit! We have to get out of here!" the Rabbit Team sniper pilot exclaimed. Kanaria reacted by pushing off of the asteroid, but the mass of her VB was making her escape rather slow. The sniper immediately got up from his position and used his 25G to help push his team leader to safety before they were destroyed by the imminent beam cannon strike. Both pilots' hearts were racing; fearing for their own lives in the face of complete annihilation. Unfortunately for them, their other two teammates were engaged in combat too far away to be able to help them in time.

As was anticipated, the Vajra cruiser opened fire towards the asteroid upon which Rabbit Team had been camping. All matter within the beam was instantly pulverized into nothing, but the cruiser had fired with a sweeping motion in an attempt to cut down the escaping pests. For Kanaria and her sniper pilot, time slowed down to a near halt while they watched the green column of death creeping closer to them from behind. Before the visual effects of the beam even reached them, its radiant heat energy began to melt the armor away from both vehicles.

From Ozma's cockpit, he could hear the two pilots beginning to scream out in terror as they were slowly consumed by the intense energy being emitted from the cruiser. His face bore a look of determination, despite what he was hearing. The press of a button on his control stick released a salvo of missiles, which quickly found their targets. The beam emitter array on the cruiser sustained critical damage from Ozma's attack as his VF-25S could be seen quickly retreating from inside of the cruiser.

Just as the beam reached Kanaria and her sniper pilot, it stopped approaching them and its intensity began to wane. Unfortunately, their ships had sustained massive damage. The 25G's computer ejected its pilot just in time to save him from the explosion of his own ship. The destruction of that VF rocked the remains of Kanaria's VB and she continued to yell out in terror, hoping that her own ship would maintain its structural integrity and save her from certain death.

The Vajra cruiser was getting rocked by internal explosions, probably caused by the damage to its beam emitter array while it was firing. The feedback of excess energy being routed into the beam cannon found its way into other parts of the ship and began to wreak havoc upon its structure. The explosions began to get larger and larger, until its reactor finally reached critical and detonated. Large chunks of the cruiser ejected from the enormous pyrotechnic cloud created by its destruction.

Several moments later, a collision with debris began to knock out the windows to the VB's cockpit and caused some structural damage to the protective shell that keeps the pilot from harm. The recently-ejected sniper pilot used his EX-gear to fly closer to the cockpit of the VB to make sure that his team leader was alright. "Lieutenant! Are you okay?" There was no response over the radio and he found an opening into the cockpit to physically check on Kanaria.

Inside of the floating husk, Kanaria was still firmly seated in her chair. He found his way down to her and grabbed her shoulder. "Lieutenant!" He gasped as he noticed the nearly-catatonic look on her face. This strong, unwavering woman was terrified out of her mind, traumatized by the prospect of her own death. She stared blankly out in front of her as the pace of her breathing bordered upon hyperventilation. Just as he started to wave his hands in front of her field of vision to get her attention, his radio began to carry Ozma's voice.

"Rabbit Team, come in! What's your status!" The sniper pilot stopped what he was doing to answer his squadron leader's request. "Sir, Lieutenant Berstein seems to be in a state of shock. If I didn't know any better, I think she needs medical attention!" "How badly is she hurt?" He looked her over for a moment before answering. "I don't think she's physically hurt. She looks like she's undergoing some kind of psychological shock. She'll probably need some kind of sedative to calm her down." He reached down to try and grab her hand so he could try and make her feel better, but he struggled to remove them from their position. Despite her condition, she retained an iron grip onto her controls.

Finally, the other two pilots in Rabbit Team approached the partially-destroyed VB-6 in an attempt to help out in any way they could. "Oh God, Lieutenant!" Ozma gave his orders to the two remaining pilots, "Rabbit Team, you need to get her to the medical frigate near the Quarter. I'm counting on you to save her, alright?" "Yes, Sir!" they said as they used their battroids to grip the remains of the VB and boosted off back towards the other battlegroup in the distance.

On the Quarter's bridge, news of further losses to Skull Squadron reached the ears of the crew. Ozma opened up a comm line to his mothership, "I need reinforcements up here to support our upcoming attack on the Galaxy fleet's interior! We're going to be running out of ammunition soon and we don't have any large-scale weapons to inflict the amount of damage needed to finish these guys off." Captain Wilder looked at Lam, hoping to hear news of a response to his request for the surrender of the Galaxy fleet. She simply shook her head.

Cal opened his comm line to the Quarter's bridge. "Quarter, I still have my MDE bombs. Send me out to join the rest of the squadron so I can put these babies to good use!" Captain Wilder thought about it for a moment and stood up to respond. "Lieutenant Wagner, proceed to the front lines. Commander Klang, you will accompany him and make sure that he delivers his payload successfully. The Quarter should be fine on it's own, since we are now safely located within the rest of the battlegroup." "Acknowledged, Quarter!" they both replied. They quickly disappeared from view, on their way to engage the bulk of the Galaxy fleet.

Captain Wilder sat down just as Commander Ortiz turned to him. "Are you sure that the two of them will be enough to make a difference?" Wilder began to punch some commands into his console; no doubt his next orders to the fleet. "I know that those two will get the job done, but just to be sure that there won't be any unnecessary loss of lives, I'll send another squadron to back them up. Ozma did say that his pilots were running low on ammunition."

Just as the Quarter's battlegroup finished off the remaining ships of the nearby attacking Galaxy group, Lam turned to Captain Wilder to inform him of an incoming transmission. "Sir! I'm getting a response on the hailing frequency!" "Put it up." The bridge's main monitor opened up the transmission to reveal the image of several bright shapes, interconnected in a web of endless strands of light. Mena immediately recognized the image. "That's... that's the Galaxy's hive mind!" Several gasps could be heard amongst the bridge crew.

"Your infidelity will not go unpunished!" a cacophony of voices sounded, "You Frontier pests ever remain the thorn in our side, but we will teach you the consequences of opposing the evolution of humanity into the ultimate form! Bear witness to the never-ending cycle of life that this state of being possesses!" The voices quieted down as the image changed to show a complex cluster of machinery and wiring, which housed a familiar body. The whirring and humming of the computers and machinery ascended in sound. Following a few moments, the body came to life and sat up after the shell opened.

"I... am reborn again!" a familiar voice said. "Grace O'Connor? It can't be!" Captain Wilder exclaimed. Grace's new body emerged from the mechanical cocoon and stood with the posture of a heavenly being. "I take form once again in order to show you the destiny that awaits you and your ilk; Humankind and Zentraedi alike." She then gracefully motioned for someone in the room to come nearer to her. With almost robot-like movements, another familiar body took its place standing next to her. Grace sensually embraced it by wrapping her arms around its upper torso and caressed its face with her fingertips.

The entire bridge crew gasped as the realized who it was. "Leon Mishima?" Captain Wilder exclaimed once more. His body was severely altered with cybernetic implants, nearly obscuring his identity from the Quarter's crew. Grace turned her gaze back towards the camera and smiled with an evil demeanor. "This man once showed his love to me, but he quickly betrayed me when he found the opportunity to seize power that was not meant to be his. In return for his betrayal, he has been made anew; his love for his Queen restored and made to last for all eternity." Mena wore a disgusted look on her face as she added appropriate commentary, "How horrible! It may be what he deserves, but to be enslaved like that... I can't imagine being kept alive in that state!" Several of the crew grunted in agreement.

Grace continued to embrace Leon's body as she finished her terrifying speech, "Obedience will be rewarded with eternal life; resistance will be punished with death! The choice is yours!" Captain Wilder finally stood up to confront the demigodess, Grace. "I find it ironic that you ask us to choose to give up our freedom of choice. Such is the preposterousness of your demands and of your way of life. We will all continue to make our own choices for as long as we live; we choose to remain free!" Everyone on the bridge exclaimed to support their Captain's words, "Yeah!"

Grace's face filled with a bit of frustration. She let go of Leon's body and returned to her heavenly posture. "Fools! Then you choose death! Let my resurrection become the harbinger of your destruction. Your obstinate ways will only lead to your undoing. To resist the natural course of evolution is to defy the very will of the Universe. You will be crushed under the enormous pressure of our superior state of being!" Grace practically floated out the view of the camera, maintaining her god-like posture. Her intention was to let the crew continue to gaze upon what she deemed to be their destiny.

From the Quarter's bridge, everyone could see that Leon's waning sense of humanity was trying to emerge from the iron-clad shell of cybernetic enslavement. As he stood perfectly still, his eyes began to water; telling the story of his conquered free will. It was as if he was begging the people of Frontier for his own death; a fate that far outweighed the one that laid before him in his current state. Within moments, the communications lines were cut. The bridge crew was left to ponder and consider what had just occurred before their eyes. Even though they had all come to accept the fact that Leon was the cause of so much death and destruction to their colony, he was also the one who led them to their promised land... the planet Aimo. Despite their lingering hatred for him, they could not help but feel sorry for him and in their minds, they would be willing to oblige to his grisly request.

Several seconds later, Monica's radar station began to alert her of more defold reactions occurring near the rest of the remaining Galaxy fleet. Reinforcements were sure to be coming in; ready to assert the will of their Queen upon the Frontier fleet. From Luca's perspective, it was an opportunity for him to make a difference in this fight. "Now's my chance!" he thought to himself. "Alto! Cover me!" he said as his RVF-25 boosted off towards the source of the developing defold reactions just outside of the Galaxy fleet's extremities. "Luca! Where the hell...?" Alto said. Without much more than those words, he gritted his teeth and flew off to cover his good friend.

The first of the series of defold reactions developed into a hyperspace portal, from which emerged another Deneb-class cruiser. Upon confirming that another Galaxy battlegroup was defolding into the area, Luca began to use his sensors to pinpoint the locations of the other reactions that were ready to give birth to more hostile capital ships. Targeting the emptiness of space in several places with his avionics, Luca fired several torpedo-sized missiles away from his bird. Breathing heavily in anticipation, he watched his sensor readout, which was superimposed over the readout that showed the relative positions of his torpedoes.

Alto fought to stave off attacking craft from Luca's position and watched the mysterious actions of the green RVF nearby. The torpedoes all sailed towards the newly-formed holes in space and when the capital ships began to emerge, the torpedoes each detonated nearby. A nearly-invisible shockwave emanated from Luca's torpedoes, briefly warping and refracting the light that happened to be passing through that space at that very moment. As if they were reacting to the explosions, the portals began to prematurely close before the craft were done exiting.

Watching in amazement, Skull Squadron witnessed each of those ships literally get cut in half by the forced closure of the hyperspace portals. Most of the severed hulks listed away from the closed portals for a few seconds before they exploded in a violent fashion. Luca grinned from ear-to-ear upon seeing the results of his attack. It seems that the torpedoes he was testing worked perfectly. "Nice, Luca!" Ozma cheered. Alto was still awestruck at the surprise that took place in front of him. "That is one hell of a weapon! I am guessing those came courtesy of our friends at LAI?" Luca simply nodded as he piloted his RVF back towards the rest of the squadron, with Alto in tow.

However, Luca's torpedoes only destroyed a portion of the emerging fleet. There were still many new ships joining into the fight, once again making the Frontier fleet's job all-the-more daunting. Several more squadrons of Galaxy fighters began to fill the immediate space between the two fleets, saturating the area with munitions fire once more.

A detachment of fighters began to head straight towards the retreating Rabbit Team. Both VF-25s were continuing to guide the remains of the VB-6 towards friendly territory when they detected the incoming threat. "Shit! There's a bunch of them coming straight for us!" one of the pilots yelled out. Both battroids turned around and drew their gunpods, in preparation to defend themselves from the incoming onslaught of Galaxy fighters. Before they could even open fire, two high-speed craft passed them from the direction of the friendly fleet in the distance. Weaving through the projectile fire, both craft continued straight into the Galaxy squadron before they each unloaded a salvo of missiles and split directions left and right.

Cal's RVF peeled away at a perpendicular angle to the Galaxy fighters, leaving a flashbang behind at close intervals. The Ghost V-9s began to chase him, but the VF-27s began to scatter erratically; the flashbangs confused them and removed their ability to use their senses for a moment. A pulse from his radome and the Ghosts also began to peel away from his six from the ECM jamming. His RVF transformed to GERWALK form and quickly turned around to face the disoriented Galaxy fighters. Cal's eyes darted at a million miles an hour, and the helmet-mounted tracking laser followed each movement as he instructed his targeting computer on what craft to lock the rest of his missiles onto. Each missile quickly left their bays and once he was done releasing them, he transformed back to fighter mode to engage the rest of the targets with only his gunpod left.

Having already shredded through the bulk of the squadron, Klan's Queadluun charged through space with the rest of the Galaxy fighters trailing behind her. She was almost too fast for them to keep up and she increased the distance between herself and the fighters a bit more before she turned around to charge straight into their formation. She fired straight into the group of fighters with both of her arm-mounted pulse cannons, hitting several targets while the rest of them peeled out of formation and tried to engage her from the side as she passed by. Each fighter that fell out of formation was immediately rewarded with a single missile charging straight at their vehicle with relentless zeal.

From a distance, it was as if her Queadluun was traveling through a tunnel of explosions. Even though he was still tangling with some Galaxy fighters on his end, Cal watched with amazement at the ease that Klan was displaying in her combat. "Goddamn, woman! Remind me not to find myself on the other side of the battlefield as you." She grinned in satisfaction as the final fighter fell before her. Her radio continued Cal's voice, "Now get your ass over here and help me get out of this little jam. These guys are turning out to be a real pain in the neck!" Klan scoffed at his request, but she began to head in his direction. "Typical man... always needs a woman to clean up after him!" "Pfft... Giant or not, I can still whoop your ass no matter what form you're in if I wanted to. Just remember that!" She heartily laughed at the audacity of his claims. Whether or not he really believed in what he had just said, it was still funny as hell to hear it. "I would love to see you try!"

Ozma was beginning to get impatient while he waited for a response from the fleet over his request for some supporting craft. "Quarter, our window of opportunity is closing! We need some more firepower up here quickly!" Just as he sent his message, Klan and Cal zoomed by his position in a bit of a blur. "Nevermind, Quarter!" he said as he realized that they were part of his reinforcements. The red coloring of Klan's Queadluun was all that Ozma needed to recognize his squadron's former executive officer.

"Klan! What the hell are you doing out here? I thought you were still on Aimo with your new squadron!" "I'll tell you about it later. Let's just get through this alive, alright? Help me cover Lieutenant Wagner so he can drop off these MDE bombs into the heart of the Galaxy fleet!" Ozma was relieved that someone still had their bomb ordnance to deliver. Even though it was only a couple of bombs, it was better than nothing. "Okay, guys! Form up on the Commander's wing and keep those guys off of Wagner!" All of the fighters nearby joined in the formation; VF-25s, VF-171EXs, Nousjadeul-Gers, and Queadluun Rheas all gathered in a small area of space, determined to complete the mission bestowed upon them.

From the front of the formation, Klan could see a nice, soft spot in the fleet's formation. Several capital ships had clustered up around what looked like the fleet's flagship, another Altair-class carrier. However, a small screen of fighters blocked their path into the fleet's heart. In the very center of the Galaxy fighter formation, a VF-27 gamma watched over his fleet with vigilance. As if she was being called out by the 27-gamma, Klan immediately picked him out and charged straight for him.

"This guy is mine!" she said over the comm lines. "Wait, I want him!" Ozma interrupted. "Too late, I already called it. You can find your own 27-gamma to tangle with later! Sorry!" Ozma knew he had been beaten to the punch by his former chickling. A huge grin formed on his face in reaction to her words. Just like a parent who realizes that their child has finally grown into an adult, the squadron leader reveled in the fact that his former chickling had become an extremely capable pilot now in charge of her own brood.

The formation of Galaxy fighters scattered to engage the encroaching Frontier formation. Cal had to bank out of his trajectory to avoid an initial blast from one of the 27s' heavy beam cannons. The rest of the Frontier fighters moved out of formation to distract their enemies from the true threat contained within their ranks; Cal's RVF, which carried the MDE bombs. His RVF continued to fire it's gunpod forward at the incoming targets while he charged into the small cluster of capital ships. A couple of Ghost drones passed by him, but they had been hit by his projectile fire, causing them to explode behind his bird.

Both sides began to incur losses through the exchange of munitions fire, but the Galaxy fighters had the support of their own ships' AA fire. There was only a limited amount of time before attrition would lead to the demise of the amalgamation of Frontier fighters. As if they had guessed the strategy correctly, the movements of the Galaxy squadron did well to hinder Cal's progress through their ranks. Several salvos of missiles caused him to alter his attack trajectory and leave behind a few packets of chaff to distract them away from his bird.

From behind, he could see a 27 moving in at an angle to intercept him. Fortunately, the pilot was so focused on catching Cal, he didn't notice that there was someone covering the RVF's six. A spray of gunpod fire perforated the hull of the 27, sending it spinning off into space before it finally exploded. Luca's RVF took formation behind Cal's bird, following his kill. "Much appreciated, good Sir! Getting some nice kills, are we?" Cal asked. "Oh, that little thing? Have you ever taken out multiple warships with a single spread of missiles? I have!" Luca responded with a confident laugh. "Hah! Can't say that I have... but we'll see if I can do some comparable damage with these bombs!" Cal was glad that Luca was getting into the spirit of being a combat pilot. It was nice to hear that slight hint of cockiness in Luca's voice.

Nearby, Klan seemed to be toying with her prey, like a cat stalking a mouse. Just the same as the other 27-gamma that Pixie Team had fought, this pilot felt it necessary to talk shit over the comm lines during the dogfight. "I don't have any record of your Queadluun's configuration in our memory banks, but yours will soon go down in defeat." A smirk crept across Klan's face. For some reason, it made it all the more fun to put cocky pilots in their place. "It's funny how you think that I have actually been trying to destroy you all this time. I'm just trying not to damage your gunpod so I can keep it as a trophy! Make sure you're sending combat information to your buddies. I want them to be able to see how badly you get humiliated."

Her words seemed to rub the 27-gamma's pilot the wrong way. "Well, come and get it, then!" he said as he transformed his VF into battroid form and drew his gunpod towards the attacking Queadluun. Using the quickness and agility of her power armor, Klan quickly closed in on her opponent by weaving in and around his spread of gunpod fire. He used his engines to continue backing away from her, but the Queadluun Rasa was far too fast to maintain any semblance of comfort-distance between them. "You're just too slow!" she taunted right before she moved directly into melee range of her opponent.

Rather than immediately going for the kill, she shifted to the side to avoid the business-end of his gunpod. She positioned her Queadluun with its back to him, while grabbing the handle of his gunpod with one hand. With the other hand, the combat knife extended outward from under the forearm and glowed with the pin-point barrier's effect. A quick swipe severed the 27-gamma's arm and she then spun around to place a heavy kick to the battroid's chest. He sailed away out of control, followed by a stream of debris that peeled away from his armor. She ripped the severed robotic hand away from the gunpod, placed her own into the trigger, and fired. The 27-gamma was instantly perforated with the projectile fire from his own gunpod; a humiliating way to be shot down, indeed.

Klan licked her lips in absolute satisfaction from her trophy kill. She seems to enjoy finding the most unorthodox ways to destroy her opponents. The last 27-gamma got ripped in half by her, before she pulverized the remains with a few well-placed missiles. They're the kind of kills that would send shudders of fear rippling through the ranks of her opponents when they see that kind of precision and thoroughness in her work. She quickly mounted her souvenir onto the weapons rack on her back and boosted off to find Cal again.

Back on the Quarter's bridge, Captain Wilder was losing his patience over the amount of time it has taken to end the battle. With every passing moment, good soldiers were losing their lives to this useless struggle. "How much longer is it going to take to deliver those MDE bombs?" Ozma had to answer to Wilder's question, "Unknown, Sir. We're facing heavy resistance here, but we're making progress. If we can just get a little more push, we might be able to break through and unload the bomb ordnance without risk of having them shot down before they reach their targets."

Almost on queue, alerts began to sound from Monica's radar station. "More defolds are forming from behind us and from behind the Galaxy fleet!" Captain Wilder dropped down into his chair like a rock. "Goddammit!" he exclaimed. Just when it seemed like the fight was about to be over, more uninvited guests barge their way into the party. "Monica, are they friendly?" the Captain asked. She watched the radar station for a moment, but then turned towards him and stared blankly in his direction. It seemed like all of the will to continue fighting had been sapped from her body.

Out in space, the new defold reactions began to form into hyperspace portals, from which emerged Vajra cruisers and drones. While the Vajra capital ships began to assume an attack posture, the drones scattered in several directions on both fronts. In the minds of pretty much everyone in the fleet, it was becoming obvious that their fates were hanging in the balance. Every time they wear down the Galaxy forces to the brink of defeat, their numbers get reinforced by a seemingly-unlimited supply of combat-ready forces.