Nothing Good Goes Unpunished

by Montagne0

Regarding Inter-Dimensional travel, the Golden Rule is, "keep quiet and tread lightly, for you never know who's out there listening". Ratchet just wished somebody had warned him before. Now, old enemies make their return just as new ones emerge from the shadows. And take a guess on who they're all after?

10. Chapter 10: Give No Quarter (Part 2)

It began the next day.

Three minutes after six a.m., with the sun still half-sunken behind the horizon, the Imperial defenders within the Markazian capital of Kalithar, together with their allied mercenaries and collaborators, were woken up by a series of explosions ringing throughout the vast metropolis.

Dozens of resistance cells emerged from their hiding places; like a tide they came out from old buildings abandoned long-since, empty malls and cellars, suburbs, metro-tunnels and other temporary refuges to strike back against the invaders.

Their targets were everywhere. Power stations and road intersections; imperial barracks and supply depos. Anything that might remotely aid the Imperials was subjected to constant attacks, with the sole purpose of stretching their already frail lines to the absolute breaking point. Imperial warbots would come out for their daily patrols only to be greeted by sniper fire, gelatonium-based explosive charges, and the occasional anti-tank rocket heading their way.

Even then, that was but the opening volley, and Colonel Cora Veralux had plenty in store for them; she was nothing but thorough.

Thirty minutes after the first attacks, the second proper wave arrived. Hundreds of suicide drones rose from the Markazian lines through the aid of improvised slingshots and rail-based launchers, only to come crashing down against known Imperial strongpoints. Point-defence systems downed a good number of them, but there were simply too much of them, their humming and buzzing too faint to be registered in the confusion, as the rudimentary systems on board searched for their targets from the sky.

Half of the remaining Imperial aero-space assets were lost in that very way while they waited on their tarmacs. Those that managed to take off to mount a counterattack quickly found themselves facing veteran Markazian pilots on board of old, yet reliable, Thunderstriker III interceptors and Sabertooth heavy atmospheric fighters.

Soon, the roaring and growling of engines filled the sky, just as crimson laser beams and plasma bolts zipped and blinked back and forth, the two forces squaring off in a deadly dance thousands of meters above the ground; it was broken by the occasional puff of smoke and burst of flames as aircrafts came crashing down in the city below, billowing trails of black smoke in their wake.

After that, precisely fifteen minutes to seven a.m., the Markazian artillery batteries began their opening barrage with clockwork precision.

Over the previous two weeks, as per Colonel Veralux's instructions, the Markazians had steadily brought their heavier guns out of their deposits and towards the frontlines. Some were nothing more than oversized mortars, quickly built by the same industrial workers that were now operating them; others however were ancient and powerful howitzers, dating back to the first war against the Emperor; in some cases even older.

Slowly, they had been deployed into batteries and forward firebases, many of their crews having already experienced action in the occasional artillery duel. Nothing however would compare to the deluge of fire that would strike their enemies. Those working at readying such majestic weapons already knew where their targets were, thanks in no small part to those same resistance groups inside the city that were now busy making the invader's stay on their planet as pleasant as being swarmed by a school of sharkigators.

The only warning the Imperial forces received was the thundering in the distance immediately followed by a piercing whistle, growing in intensity until it was a deafening scream. Hundreds of shells sailed through the air, destroying Imperial outpost and defences over the course of a twenty-minutes barrage. After that, they switched targets, aiming for known Imperial assembly points and other such structures. The objective quickly became to simply pin those forces in place inside their reinforced bunkers, rendering them unable to react to what would come next.

Finally, ten minutes past seven a.m., as dozens of blood-red flares climbed up into the sky before exploding into crimson blossoms, the first wave of Markazians climbed their trenches' parapets and went over, either charging on foot or with improvised armoured vehicles, seasoned resistance fighters leading the assault.

The off-worlder mercenaries, the very same outfits that had worked for Nefarious simply for money, were either overwhelmed outright in their positions or fled, the Markazians showing little concern in taking prisoners. The Imperial collaborators lasted a while longer, for the simple fact that they were aware of what would happen should they attempt surrender. Eventually, they too had to fall back from the assault.

Only once they reached the second line did the Markazians hit a brick wall. Imperial warbots stubbornly resisted their advances, while the Kalithar's City Defense Network went online and turned against its former owners. Many of those defences had fallen to disrepair due to Imperial apathy and carelessness; some had been damaged or sabotaged during the previous weeks of fighting.

However, far too many were perfectly operational; plasma cannons on quad mounts rose from their reinforced bunkers, together with smaller and much easy-to-conceal laser turrets, and proceeded to lay down withering barrages that halted many Markazian columns in their tracks. Long-range missile launchers and artillery turrets opened up all across the line and exacted a heavy toll on the resistance fighters. Undaunted, the Markazians pushed on, shrugging off the casualties, single-minded to throw the warbots off their planet.

In the first two hours of the operation, hundreds of Markazians would lay down their lives, squaring off against the hated enemy that had cruelly oppressed them for ten long years; the toll would only get worse as the day went on, for the battle for Markazia had merely begun.

---

"Contact, three hundred meters, street level. I count at least eight- no, scratch that, ten of them," Zertis hissed quietly in his earpiece. "All units stand ready to engage." Brisk acknowledgements echoed in his ear, but there was mostly silence. The warriors under his command were experienced in communication discipline.

Peering out from the window of the small apartment they had commandeered the day before, Zertis watched in silence as the Markazian team advanced down the street. The building he was currently in sat at an intersection, thus granting him a commanding view on that particular avenue of approach. The place had been abandoned long since, the occupants fleeing some time before. A pity, in Zertis's opinion; as he glanced around the bedroom he was occupying, he could not deny that the couple had had a good taste regarding furniture.

He shook his head, then returned the attention to his enemies. He had counted at least ten Markazians, slowly and carefully making their way down the road. Their weapons were raised as they scanned around, tails swinging and twitching back and forth slightly.

Zertis frowned, his tail twitching behind. These guys had some good discipline. They were advancing split into two parallel fireteams, making sure to take advantage of every piece of cover they could find; there was good spacing between each member so to avoid being struck down in an enfilade.

'No vehicle with them, though. A recon team then. No matter, they'll make for good targets.'

He glanced to the side, toward Centurion Koike as she stood by the second window within the room, her pulse rifle raised and ready, scanning for targets. Eventually, the holographic crosshair went to rest onto her chosen victim for the day.

"I'm ready, Pack Leader, and I wait for you signal," she said. Zertis nodded, then reached up behind to unsling his chosen weapon from his shoulder. A moment later and the plasma carabine rested against his cheek, the wire-stock pressed against his shoulder as he peered down the holographic sight. It was a light weapon, designed to be practical and easy to carry in a warzone, yet a few modifications over the years allowed it to pack quite the punch.

Zertis picked up his target, the team leader advancing at the head of the formation. He blinked, activating his neuro-implant so to highlight her on his warriors' integrated HUD. A second one was highlighted as well as Koike indicated her target.

"Wait for the two hundred meters mark. I'll fire first," Zertis commanded, his right eye glued to the holographic display. The Markazian team continued its advance down the road slowly, yet seemingly unaware of the threat they were about to walk right into.

There was a tingle in his finger, and Zertis could feel the beginning of an excited grin taking shape on his face. That was the part he loved the most; the conclusion of a good hunt, when the predator was moments away from striking down their prey in one clean cut. Such moments were to be savoured to the fullest.

The Markazian team grew closer and closer, to the point that Zertis could make out details on their clothes. All of them were wearing a light set of flak vest, including pieces for elbows and knees. Still, Zertis was confident that his customized plasma carabine would have no problem getting through that protection.

'Any moment now. Come on, just a little closer . . .'

The Markazian team leader raised a clenched fist, and the entire squad came to a sudden stop. Zertis blinked, then his face twisted into a frown, still peering through the holo-sight. The team leader looked up in his general direction and, for a brief moment, Zertis was sure she was looking straight at him. The suspicion turned into a frightening certainty as Zertis saw her gesturing briefly with a hand, just as some of the other Markazians started preparing plasma grenades.

Zertis felt something else settling in his stomach, his tail slowly going rigid. It was no longer excitement for the approaching kill; rather, it was the sudden realization of a hunt gone horribly wrong, and of a hunter becoming prey.

Zertis wasted no time and squeezed the trigger. The discharge went mostly unnoticed by him, and the weapon hurled a beam of burning-hot green plasma into the air. It was too late; the Markazian leader immediately hit the dirt, letting the beam pass over her head just as the rest of her team scrambled for cover. Some distance away, Zertis heard the mightier discharge of Koike's pulse rifle, the beam clipping a Markazian fighter in the side and sending him sprawling on the asphalt.

"You are getting slow, Pack Leader," she commented with an amused chuckle, just as she shot him a smug glance. Maybe she wanted to say something. Maybe she just wanted to gloat. She never got the chance to do either.

The laser beam smashed through the window and into her skull, before burning a hole into the wall behind. Zertis only had the time to register a look of mild surprise on her face before the Kartisian simply fell backward, hit the pavement and never got up.

As his eyes fell onto Koike's cauterized wound, Zertis had one single thought, clear as day.

'Oh, fuck.'

Everything exploded the next moment.

---

"That was an amazing shot, not gonna lie," Rivet commented as she lowered the set of binoculars. By her side, Tanya looked away from the weapon's scope and flashed her a toothy grin. A soft curl of steam rose from the Headhunter's barrel, but she paid it no mind, focusing instead on adjusting the weapon on its bipod, just in case another shot would be necessary.

"Thank you. Though it's kinda their fault, really. They chose a pretty obvious spot for an ambush."

"What do you mean?"

Tanya did not answer immediately, instead turning her attention back to the weapon. She peered through the magnifying scope, let out a soft breath, and then squeezed the trigger. Her corner of her lips curled upward, and Rivet knew that she had taken out another one.

"I used to hang around in this part of town where I was a kid. Nice place. I had a few friends here." Her face darkened as she looked up. "They got all evicted when Nefarious came along. The entire district was reserved for his supporters, all of them robots of course."

Rivet lifted an eyebrow. "Really? I haven't seen any bots around here now that I think about it. Where do you think they are now?"

"I'm sure someone took care of them," Tanya replied "One of the sweeper teams combed through the area some time ago". There was a cold edge in her voice. Rivet wanted to ask her what she meant by that but held her tongue. Down in the street, there were flashes of lasers and plasma flying through the air. There were probably more of those mercs to take care of.

"Who in hell are those guys anyway?"

"No idea, though if you ask me, I don't think they're normal mercenaries; too disciplined, you see. And I don't like how smart they are. Certainly not just your run-of-the-mill collaborators."

Rivet nodded. She was more than familiar with the concept. The Emperor had never hidden his disgust towards 'squishies', as he called them, but he had always shown favour towards robots, especially those ready to serve him. It was not a surprise that many would take him up on the offer, either due to fear or earnest belief in his cause. Still, Rivet loathed them regardless.

Tanya seemed to share that opinion; she looked away and spat on the ground. "Leeches, all of them. I'm sure they are all regretting betting on the wrong horse now. Plenty of good all that money did them in the end. A bunch of creeps obsessed with the Clans of old, more than eager to jump onto the carcass of the old republic." She shook her head, frowning. "The Clans have been dead for decades, and now they'll soon be for real. Good fucking riddance."

Rivet nodded absentmindedly, more than eager to drop the subject. It sounded like some political stuff, and she tried to avoid that. Her job was simple; bash warbots and free the galaxy. She was pretty good at it, she enjoyed it, and she liked to keep it that simple.

The trail of thoughts was interrupted by a thunderous boom, followed by the crashing of masonry and stone. From their vantage point on a habitation hub, they had a good visual on a Markazian self-propelled assault gun rolling down the street, its hull-mounted howitzer firing with abandon against the very enemy that had tried to ambush them. It sure seemed like things would be wrapped up pretty soon, at least there.

Towers of billowing smoke filled the sky as the battle for Kalithar raged all around them. In the distance, flames consumed some of the skyscrapers in the city's financial district, while from above came the occasional droning and humming of engines as the battle for the sky continued unabated.

'I guess it's time to get moving.'

Tanya seemed to share her thought, for the Markazian had already started removing the Headhunter from its bipod and readying it for transport. So far, they had been doing a pretty good job as a duo, the Markazian's skills at long-range compensating for Rivet's more direct approach. And besides, operating in a pair allowed them to move quickly to where their presence would be required.

'I guess working as a team is not so bad. If you like your partner, that is.'

She shook her head,trying to not think about Kit and the fight they had the day before. Her tail swayed behind, her mouth twisting into a painful grimace. Maybe they just needed some time away from each other, so to figure things out, or whatever they were trying to do right now.

Was she supposed to feel something about it? She looked over to the side, at her prothesis, the ever-present reminder that she carried with her. The metallic fingers twitched slightly. Admittedly, bringing that up again had been a low blow on her part.

'What else I'm supposed to do then? Just forget that she took away my arm? Forget all the pain and the struggle that followed, the friends I lost because I was too weak to do anything?'

"You're with me, Lombax?" Tanya snapped her fingers a couple of times in front of Rivet's face. That finally forced her to blink, suddenly remembering where she was right now.

"Uh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry, I was thinking for a moment there. Nothing major." She grinned, showing off some confidence. Then, she gestured at the Headhunter now slung over the Markazian's shoulder. "By the way, how many did you get so far? I kinda lost count at fifteen."

"You're not too off the mark." Tanya smirked. "Twenty-one."

Rivet let out a soft whistle. "You make it look easy. Sniper rifles have never been my first choice; I always stuck with crushing warbots at close range. It's more fun anyway."

"Can relate."

"Who taught you to shoot?" Rivet inquired. "Those are some impressive skills you've got."

Tanya simply chuckled, shaking her head, then looked away. Down the street, the firefight had died down, the only sounds of battle now echoing in the distance. She frowned.

"I guess there's no point in hiding it. I did join up with the Army some years ago. And I'm not talking about the armed militia of some noble house or clan or whatever; I'm talking about the proper one, the Army of the Republic. Unfortunately, I did complete my training just in time for the Emperor and his army of tincans to come knocking." She sighed for a moment as long forgotten memories of those days seemed to flood back, then shrugged; the gesture seemed to lift some of the metaphorical weight off her shoulders.

"It was a shitshow in every possible sense of the word, but we managed to survive. After that, the real work begun. All those who had opposed the republic since its inception reared their ugly heads, and that's when the reprisals started." Again, she spat on the ground. As Tanya looked up again, Rivet noticed the fierce glare settling on her.

"Nefarious never bothered to finish his conquest and decided to just move on. He was more than content having us tearing each other apart. Still, we adapted; we survived; we fought tooth and nail. And now, we're gonna take back what was stolen from us."

Rivet remained silent. Whatever words she was about to say, even to just try and comfort her, they all seemed suddenly unimportant. How could one even begin to console someone that had seen her very home burn for ten years?

Then, just as suddenly as she had begun, her expression shifted. Tanya shook her head, chuckling as she did so. "Look at me now, giving history lessons like I was my dad. Sorry you had to sit through all that. I kinda get a bit . . . passionate on that kind of stuff. I didn't want to annoy you."

Rivet simply scratched the back of her head. "What? Oh no, don't worry. Seems like you had all the right reasons to be pissed off. Though, I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting your dad supporting you in taking such choice. He didn't strike me as the combative kind."

"Oh, that's easy actually," Tanya commented with a sudden hiss. "He did not, in fact, support me. He tried everything he could to have me give up on that; too dangerous, according to him."

"Oh," was all Rivet managed to say. "I'm . . . ah . . . look, I'm-"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you didn't mean it." Tanya lifted her arm, activating the small console integrated in her vambrace. "Me and dad did not have the most stable of relationships back then. Too busy with his academic career instead of . . ." she paused.

"Ah, dammit, here I go again. Next time, if you see me go on a tangent, just punch me right there, alright? I'll be thanking you later, I promise."

Rivet giggled. "Careful there. I might take up that offer." Tanya let out a chuckle as well. Despite the chaos raging all around them, the mood on that rooftop had seemingly lightened.

It did not last.

Rivet froze, ears perking up as she heard something else beneath the cacophony of battle. Carefully, she twisted her head around, trying to get a better reading on the sound. It was soft yet persistent, like of scraping against steel or stone. She couldn't identify it, but one thing was certain; it was coming all around them.

"Something's wrong?" Tanya asked. She had flipped close the console on her forearm now, her face darkening with seriousness.

Rivet's ears flicked as the sound continued, her earrings tinging softly. "Not sure. Are you hearing this one too?"

"Hearing what?"

"I don't know, it's like . . . like if someone was using sandpaper or something. You know what I'm talking about, right?" Tanya nodded, but said nothing, deciding simply to unsling the weapon from her shoulder. The Lombax's superior earing had come in handy more than once. If Rivet said she was earing something, she believed her.

The sound grew faintly in intensity as it got closer; still, it was low enough that most would have probably missed it had they not been looking specifically for it. Rivet twisted her head around, scanning her surroundings for the source. There wasn't much on that rooftop; just a few air units scattered around together with old steel pipes for the delivery of gas and water to the apartments inside. Such thick pipes would in all likelihood run from the ground all the way up to the rooftop and-

Rivet froze, the fur on her neck rising. All the muscles in her body tensed up as one as the final realization struck her. She shot Tanya a glance.

"I think someone is climbing the pipes."

Tanya nodded silently, opening her mouth to speak, but it was lost on Rivet. Her eyes fell behind the Markazian, onto the parapet and the clawed hand that had reached up from behind and grabbed it for purchase. The first hand was followed by a second, identical; then a scale-covered upper body appeared, as the alien tried to climb up and over the parapet.

Four amber-coloured eyes settled on her, confused and wide-open. The alien hesitated, not expecting to find someone else there. Rivet however did not hesitate.

The alien had barely the time to twist his mouth into a furious snarl, when the OmniMallet went flying through the air. There was a crunch of broken bones as the reptile jerked his head back, lost his purchase and fell, a blood-curling shrieking accompanying him on his way down.

Through a flick of her hand, the OmniMallet whirled back into her grasp, the magnets arrayed across the handle making sure that it would not slip any time soon. A sharp crack rented the air, followed by a hiss and a strangled scream. Rivet glanced to the side just enough to see Tanya bringing down a second aggressor some distance away, the Headhunter kicking him into his chest and sending him flying backwards and over the parapet.

However, it was not over. More of the aliens made their sudden appearance on the roof, having climbed the steel pipes running all around the structure. They looked more or less the same; four-eyed and reptilian-looking, with feathers of various colours jutting out from the back of their heads. Their equipment was somewhat similar as well; laser rifles and light armour of some alien-looking alloy.

"Ah, fuck. It's those guys again!" Tanya snapped. A plasma grenade soared into the air and towards her, only for Rivet to intercept it in mid-air with a swing of her OmniMallet, hurling it back where it came from. A mighty detonation rented the air but, as the smoke cleared, their enemies were still standing, having apparently activated some sort of portable energy shield. Rivet hissed in frustration.

"Remember when you said you didn't like how smart they were? Yeah, I can see it right now." Rivet activated her Tele-equipper and a Burst Pistol made its appearance in her left hand. She snapped the weapon up and fire a quick burst, sending the aliens scrambling for cover, aside from those equipped with shields.

By her side, Tanya had dropped the Headhunter and pulled out a Combustor Pistol as well as a large, razor-sharp combat knife. She twirled the blade in her left hand a couple of times before wielding it in a reverse grip.

"I count at least a dozen of them, Lombax," the Markazian noted grimly, already shifting in a combat stance. On the other hand, Rivet was now sporting a wide grin on her face. Adrenaline flowed through her veins, a soft tingle in her right hand as she prepared to the fight ahead.

"Perfect! I always enjoy a fair fight!" Rivet boasted, and Tanya laughed by her side.

"Alright, Lombax. Let's do it."

One of the aliens, wearing a more elaborate-looking set of armour and a crested-helmet, threw his head back and let out a blood-curling shriek. The others joined in a moment later through a series of guttural snarls and screams, before finally raising their weapons on the pair of rebels.

As one, Tanya and Rivet charged straight into their midst, the rooftops erupting with gunfire all around them.

---

The data stream flowed constantly through her processor like a violent outpour, threatening to overwhelm her at the slightest mistake. Still, that was nothing Kit couldn't handle. Seated at her station for the last couple of hours, her stillness disguised the mole of activities that were occurring within her processing unit.

Kit worked with well-practiced experience, breaking apart the main data current and using several subroutines to analyse their content, searching for the right element. Markazian security protocols were a completely different beast compared to their Imperial counterparts. While the Imperial Net was unified, the Markazian had decided to compartmentalize their network.

On one hand, what she was currently doing was incredibly risky; the Markazians would probably use another set of words, such as treason for example. Kit forced herself to focus on the task at hand, bashing away those thoughts from her mind. Maybe they were right, but it was not something she could simply ignore. She had to know.

Two minutes later, her efforts were rewarded as she finally managed a breakthrough. She mentally rolled her eyes; somebody had employed the same password for multiple functions. A small mistake, but it had granted her the opening she needed; and in a metaphorical fashion, Kit went for the kill with brilliant skill.

She looked up. A Markazian woman sat opposite to her some distance away, a pair of monitors arrayed before her, splitting her attention between the two as she typed away. The only moments her hands abandoned the keyboard was to pick a licorice-flavoured candy and flipping it in her mouth.

Kosta -that was her name- did not like her, that much was certain. Kit didn't know why, but she had up to that point rejected any attempt by Kit to establish a conversation; most of the time, Kosta refused to meet her eyes, and when she did, the small bot was confident she sulked at her.

'She would probably like me even less if she knew what I was doing.'

"Alright," Kosta muttered as she got up from her chair, stretching her limbs as she did so. "I'm gonna take a break. Don't you touch my computer while I'm away."

"Oh, of course. I would never do such thing."

The Markazian's eyebrows furrowed briefly, but then she nodded and strode out the room, leaving Kit alone for the time being.

Her eye-lenses went slant for the briefest of moments. She wasn't exactly alone though; Phantom was there as well, although the Rilgarian was focused on applying some upgrades on his Phantom Dash together with the help of a couple of local engineers. Occasionally, the whirring of an electric drill came from their way.

She ignored it, focusing instead on the task at hand. She had not lied to Kosta when she promised to not touch her computer. After all, Kit didn't need to, having already established a remote link. And now, she got to work, forcing an entry and proceeding to examine the available data.

It took only a few minutes, Kit skimming quickly through useless information, data, and various field reports. Eventually, however, her processor found exactly what she was looking for; an innocent-looking recording of a communication occurred a few days before. Breaking through the encryption was for her child's play.

—

'Cobalt, this is Archer Three. How copy, over?'

'Archer Three, Cobalt speaking. We hear you, go ahead.'

'Sweeping teams are finishing off rounding up the collaborators. We're a bit short of the five thousands mark, though. We had to crack some robo-skulls to keep them in line. We'll be in on the move in a couple of minutes. You sure you don't want us to smoke them right here?'

'Negative, Archer Three. Proceed as determined and bring them to the processing point Alpha-Charlie-Zeta-Five. They'll take it over and proceed to termination of the subjects. Did you face resistance?'

'Not really. We caught the warbots by surprise. A few of the rest tried to resist, but they were just normal bots. More of an annoyance than anything serious. Although, we have a couple of dozens barricaded inside a habitation-hub and they keep firing at us. Do we have the authorization to bring out the big firecrackers?'

'Affirmative, Archer Three. Thermobaric weapons are authorized, level the building if you have to.'

'Acknowledged, Cobalt. Look out from the window, you might see a good show.' A brief chuckle. 'Archer Tree, over and out.'

—

Kit severed the link, her eye-lenses twitching. She couldn't believe it; she didn't want to believe it the first time she had overheard it, but that was the last of a long series of similar reports she had managed to pluck from their archives.

Were the Markazians deliberately targeting normal robots in their campaign against Nefarious's Empire? No, that couldn't be right. Maybe she was missing something. Rivet and the other would have never agreed to help them out if that was the case. Right?

Kit almost missed the sound of approaching steps behind, so deep she was in her own thoughts, until a metal can was placed before her on the table, startling her.

"My apologies, I just thought you might enjoy the company." Kit eye-lenses glanced up in alarm, only to relax somewhat once she saw Maximilian Apogee standing by her side with a pleasant grin. His curled moustache was, unlike much of his general appearance, clean and pristine. Why someone would spend so much efforts curing his body-hair was lost on Kit, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"I know Imperial warbots consume that kind of beverage, at least that's what I've heard from the local fighters. They're more interested on crafting explosives using that thing, you see."

Kit said nothing, her lenses settling on the can of 'Nefarious's Own Regenerative Oil'. The advertisement campaign for that had been massive when it first came out, even if Kit had little interest in all the miraculous properties it claimed to have. The jingle was nice though.

Still, she reached out towards it before taking a sip through a plastic straw that Max had been kind enough to provide. Kit gave him a grateful smile.

"Thank you. I will admit, I have a soft spot for this kind of drink. It always makes my joints feel like they were fresh off the assembly line." Then, a frown as she gave the can a close look. "I would have preferred though if Nefarious had avoided printing his face all over it. I do not need any reminder of him."

"Indeed. What's inside anyway?" Maximilian asked.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

He blinked. "Oh. In that case, I retract my question then."

A few more moments passed in silence, Kit taking another sip from the oil can. There was a low murmuring in the room, coming from the opposite side of it. Cora Veralux and a few of her aides were hunched over a city map strewn over the table amidst data-pads, important-looking documents and coffee mugs, confabulating amongst themselves.

Eventually, Kit looked up. "I do believe I owe you an apology for yesterday," she began. "Admittedly, I let anger get the better of me in that instance, and I have said things I shouldn't have said." A frown made its appearance on her metallic features. "I am still very much infuriated though. It remains an incredibly irresponsible thing to do."

Maximilian glanced down at her, smiling. "I appreciate your honesty, Miss Kit. But please, let me ask you a question; is there someone out there who you deeply care for? You don't have to name them if you want, just a yes or no will suffice."

Kit opened her mouth for a moment before promptly shutting it, deep in thought. Her mind went back to the day before, on her fight with Rivet.

It had taken some time to fully realize that Rivet had never forgiven her for what had happened; all those small signs, her uneasiness when she was around her, they all make now perfect sense. The final fight against the Emperor had proven very much the exception driven by absolute necessity rather than the rule. But now, without major threat pending over their heads? What was left to keep them together?

Maybe it was just a matter of time before their relationship fell apart completely; still, Kit wasn't ready to give up. This wasn't about what had happened all those years ago, of the injury she had caused her. At the end of the day, Kit realized, she cared about Rivet; she was her friend, and something was gnawing at her friend.

Kit was certain of it, and the bot was determined to help her as best as she could.

'Does she want my help though? What if she simply rejects me?'

"Miss Kit?"

"Uh? Oh, terribly sorry. I was thinking." Kit looked up. "And to answer your question, yes. I think there is someone I consider close to me. Perhaps not in the same way you do but yes, there is."

The Markazian nodded. "Very well. Then you know the feeling, don't you? The desire to keep them safe no matter what happens, to do what you can to spare them the worst." He looked away, a sad smile on his lips.

"Dammit, I know she probably hates me anyway because I want to keep her safe, but what else am I supposed to do? She's the only thing I have left." Max shook his head.

"I remember the first war against Nefarious. The images still haunt me at night. I never wanted to put her through it a second time and I knew that, as soon as the plans for the liberation of Markazia were laid out, she would volunteer to be at the centre of the storm, because that's just how she is."

Kit said nothing, but she did not miss the glinting in his eyes. He tried to wipe away the tears without much success. "I lied to you, Miss Kit. I said that I never wanted to deploy the Dimensionator, that I wanted to do more tests or whatever. That was cowardice on my part, and I apologize. Truth is, I never wanted for Tanya to be another body amongst thousands. And no, I'm not exaggerating. I've seen the casualties we have been taking in the last five hours."

He exhaled. "So, I gathered a few of my old colleagues, those still alive anyway, we elaborated a project in record time and presented it to the Committee of Liberation. And they approved, because they too were looking for a solution that didn't result in a nuclear fungus over Kalithar."

He turned his gaze back at Kit, eyes narrowed in determination. "Was it egoistic? Yes, absolutely. But if that Dimensionator can give us the quick victory we hoped for, then it's a risk I'm willing to take. And yes, you may not agree, but honestly I don't give a f-"

He stopped; in part because he recognized he was going too far, but also in no small parts due to the fact that, seemingly out of the blue, Kit had reached out with her metallic hand to take his. It wasn't a calculated gesture; rather, much to Kit's astonishment, it had come out as a spur-of-the-moment decision, yet it felt simply natural to her.

"You are not egoistic, mister Apogee," Kit said with a genuine yet understanding smile. "Nor you are a coward. I may not be able to fully understand how to properly interact with others yet, but even I know that looking after those you care about it's neither of those two terms you used to describe yourself. You love your daughter, and there is no shame in that."

Maximilian blinked in astonishment, then a mirroring grin made its appearance on his face as well. "You truly think so?"

"Absolutely." Then Kit frowned. "However, you are still a fool though."

"Oh, absolutely! I'll never deny that I am one." He chuckled before shaking his head. He sighed deeply, as if a weight had just been removed from his shoulder and could finally breath properly. "And here I thought you were the one needing company. Rivet is truly lucky to have such a companion by her side."

Kit's grin faltered for a brief moment, though Maximilian failed to recognize it, as he was busy shooting a look around.

"Well, it seems you are fairly busy at the moment, so I won't steal any more of your time. It was a pleasure talking to . . . to . . ."

Maximilian stammered, his eyes settling on what was happening on the other side of the room. While they had been talking, Cora had activated an holo-projector on their table, and now she and her aides were busy examining a series of images. Cora pulled out a stylus and would occasionally point to one in particular, magnifying it so those around her could get a better view.

"Ah . . . e-excuse me, colonel?" Maximilian said, a tremble in his voice. He had grown considerably pale in the face. "May I ask where those . . . where did you take those pictures?"

The Markazian woman stopped for a moment, looking at him with a puzzled expression. "These? Oh, nothing major really. Our forces on the ground have just met some unknown outfit fighting for the Imperials. They sent us those pictures back in the hope of identifying them, though we don't have much. According to a few collaborators we managed to capture alive, not even them know where those guys came from. The only thing known at the moment is the name they keep on using for themselves."

"Kartisians," Maximilian whispered, his voice quavering with something that Kit could only describe as terror. "That's the name they use, right?"

"Why, yes." Cora's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her mouth pursuing in a grimace. "Is there something you are not telling me, professor? For I do not appreciate when military intelligence is kept from me, especially not in time like these."

Maximilian blinked, suddenly realizing the slip he had just make as several pair of eyes settled on him, Kit's included.

"Oh . . . uh, well . . . you see, it's kind of a . . . well . . ." he mumbled.

The reinforced door behind swung open. Clatchky stepped inside, an exhausted blaster in hand and his face covered in bruises. His clothes were soaked with a blue and thick substance that dripped on the floor with each step. He was huffing and puffing.

Before he had a chance to speak, Kit's systems run a quick analysis on him, and managed to barely contain a horrified gasp as the results arrived.

It was blood.

"Right, so," Clatchky wheezed. "I hate being that kind of guy, but we might have a slight problem on our hands right now."

There was a crumping detonation outside, and the building shook, dust falling down from the ceiling. It was soon followed by a growing cacophony of gunfire.

---

The droning and humming of engines was overwhelming; a constant and rhythmic symphony building up in intensity in the background, its tempo increasing as Kartisian drivers revved up their warmachines' engines. It was not unlike the ancient war drums of old; a sound of preparation, a music playing in anticipation for the battle that would soon come.

"Are you sure you are well, Pack Leader?" Kalani inquired, stroking his chin. "I can always ask for someone else to lead the assault. You have nothing to prove to me."

Zertis nodded eagerly, steeling himself once more to ignore the flaring pain that had been assaulting him for the past hour. An eyepatch rested now on what had once been one of his eyes, with a fresh scar adorning his right cheek just below; the scales there had failed to properly heal, leaving him a blackened burnt as permanent reminder. The rest of his injuries had stopped hurting some time before, thanks to copious amounts of nanites.

And yet, a burning still remained inside Zertis, one that could not be soothed through advanced medicine or traditional ointments. The Lombax had taken his eye, yet he had failed to exact vengeance upon her! Admittedly, he had been taken by surprise, but that was still no excuse. Honour required him to exact at least the same price, yet that would have to wait for the time being

"Fear not, My Lord. I have still three eyes left for a job that requires only one. If my Pack is to march into battle, then I will lead my Brothers and Sisters forward. There is no other way." He flared his teeth in one feral smile. "And besides, Mekior has already presented me with a replacement for when I come back. It won't be as good as the original eye, but it'll get the job done."

"And I am glad to see that your eagerness has not diminished. In truth, I wouldn't have wanted anybody else in charge." Kalani nodded in satisfaction. "Now, is your Pack ready for battle?"

Zertis shot a brief glance around. The last-minute arrangements were being sorted out, and a hundred combat vehicles stood arrayed in a clearing before the Palace of the Legislature. The growling of engines was deafening; each vehicle a predator ready to jump on an unsuspecting prey, their energy weapons already glowing and humming as they charged up. Zertis was proud of them; once again, his Pack had followed his instructions to the letter, mustering in record time.

He spotted Mekior and his cadre of Devotees as they moved between them, chanting prayers and hymns. A few were busy tracing warding signs on the hulls, sometimes with the crews' assistance.

"Soon, my Lord. It is but a matter of minutes. We will rendezvous with the first Manticore before launching the main assault."

Kalani nodded, clapping his hands together. "Good! Very good, Pack Leader. I'm eager to hear about their performance. After all, it has been quite some time since they properly took to the field." He stepped closer before whispering, "And what about our Markazian . . . friend? How are you planning on dealing with him?"

"I've sent one of my best pathfinders, of course. He'll make sure nothing can be used to lead the Ancient Enemy back at us." Kalani blinked for a moment in response.

"Only one? And you are sure he will be enough?" Zertis nodded without hesitation. "Who did you send anyway?"

"Oktar."

"Him? A bit of an overkill, don't you think?" Kalani chuckled, before looking up. His expression turned immediately sour at the sight of the group of warbots approaching them. LT-4471 stood at the head of them, scampering their way on three metallic legs, unaware of the glare thrown his way by the Kartisians present.

"Are your forces ready?" the warbot inquired with evident impatience, moving right past any pleasantries. Kalani simply shrugged.

"They will soon be. Such things cannot be rushed after all," Kalani quipped, his lips split into a wide grin.

"Then I suggest you to rush them," LT-4471 replied monotone. "Your objective is to push back the Markazians, blunt their advance and give us time to restore our defences into the inner city. I will be leading an assault on your northern flank so to apply constant pressure."

He did not wait for a reply, immediately turning around to leave. "One more thing," he added as he came to a sudden stop. "You are to stop salvaging materials from Imperial depos at once. Those resources are needed for the Legions, and we are already paying you plenty for your services. If any of your own continue, they'll be declared enemy saboteurs and terminated on the spot. Is that understood?"

There was a brief moment where Zertis was sure Her Voice would explode. His lips peeled back just as his tail went rigid. Instead, he simply let out a sinister yet amused chuckle.

"But of course. I'll make sure to instruct my forces to avoid such practise. And please, send my regards to that Assistant of yours. I do hope she will at least enjoy the show from her golden perch." Each word dripped with venom, but the warbot was simply unfazed. His eye-lenses swung around and he walked away, his escort scampering after him.

Zertis waited patiently for him to get out of earshot before quickly turning towards Her Voice. He didn't take a genius to understand what the next order would be. "My Lord," he hissed, "should we-"

"No."

Zertis blinked in surprise as he noticed that a grin had finally returned to Kalani's face. "After today, he won't be useful to us any longer, but for now, he stays where he is. Those warbots make for useful cannon-fodder, and I don't want to waste them."

"I understand, My Lord." He tilted the head to the side. "And what about the Assistant, if I may ask?"

Kalani simply chuckled, a hungry growl building inside his throat, just as he flashed him a grin. "Her? Oh, don't you worry. She will soon join her beloved Emperor to the same grave." He clicked his tongue loudly. "The Brood Mother is ever generous, after all. We will grant that bot the honour of a quick and painless death. Still, that is not important; she doesn't deserve our attention for now, only the Lombax does."

"Understood, My Lord." In the background, the roaring reached a peak; a low keening washed over their ears as hover vehicles activated their gravity repulsors. Then came the sound heavy treads grating against the asphalt as the first line of vehicles started creeping forward.

Zertis reached up and activated his earpiece, his comm-channel immediately drowned out by dozens of voices speaking one over the other. He was about to turn away, before deciding to add, "Good hunt to you, My Lord."

"And to you as well, Pack Leader." Kalani flashed him a grin. "Try and save a couple for me as well while you are at it."

---

"Alright boss, I'm gonna say it," the Markazian woman snapped. "That was stupid. As in, more stupid than usual. Like, I know I should expect stupid things from you by now, but holy crap, was that just stupid."

Rivet said nothing, a puzzled expression on her face. Tanya, on the opposite, pinched her nose as she tried not to explode. "Xavia, why don't you just shut the hell up for once?"

"I'm serious though. What the hell do we even have a comm-system for if you don't use it?"

"We were in the middle of a fight, you know."

"You literally had to just press one button!" Xavia countered. "Just one, and we would have sent some support your way in a couple of minutes. Even you can manage to do that. Like, I know you guys in the MAE can't read instructions if your life depended on it, but come on!"

"Xavia, I'm five seconds away from just shooting you right now. Drop it."

She sniffed, placing her hands on her sides before shaking her head. "You know what? Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm just your second-in-command; sorry if I wonder sometimes what the hell is my commanding officer up to."

"Good," Tanya replied. Then, she jutted a thumb in Rivet's direction. "She needs ammunition, so start doing some of your magic. I'll be checking on the rest of our guys and see what's up. And I don't want to hear any complain in the meantime. Is that understood?"

"Oh, sure thing, ma'am," she gave her a mocking salute. "As you command."

Tanya glared daggers at her but choose instead not to respond to the provocation.

"Xavia here is our impromptu quartermaster," she explained to Rivet. "If you need something particular, just ask her. She can be a pain in the ass sometimes but, if you don't care on the where or how, she can basically find everything."

"That's good to hear," Rivet said. "I'll catch you later then?"

"You bet." She and Rivet bumped fists together before she headed out to deal with whatever matter was at hand.

All around her, Markazian fighters were gathered by their vehicles enjoying a quick break after the constant fighting throughout the day. They were scattered in small groups, chatting and eating from their rations; a few were taking the chance for a nap.

Rivet tried to follow Tanya with her gaze, thought she quickly disappeared inside a deep-green tent nearby. Eventually, with nothing else to focus her attention, Rivet's eyes were drawn toward the device sprawled across a good half of the plaza.

Maximilian had not been kidding when he said that the device was a crude copy of the original Dimensionator. For starters, this new one wasn't portable, except in the sense that it rested on the back of a dozen hov-trucks. At the centre of it, secured to a raised pedestal, was a single shard of Phase Quartz, one of the rarest minerals in the known universe; it was inactive for now, its surface a dull purple, but in a few hours that would change.

Rivet would have lied had she said that the sight of the whole machine now fully-arrayed and ready to be operated, maintenance crews and scientists swarming all over it for the last minutes checks, did not fill her with dread. She tried to remind herself that she was doing that for the whole galaxy, to finally rid it from what remained of Nefarious's Empire.

And yet, her mind refused to acknowledge such excuse.

She glanced around. Maybe even the Markazians themselves were aware of just how many things could go wrong, and they had decided to not take any chances. Layers and layers of defences surrounded it, the Markazians having torn apart the old natural park surrounding the plaza. What had once been the favourite spot for hundreds -thousands perhaps- of families to spend the afternoon together, was now a maze of trenches, bunkers and firepits. Behind those stood mighty large-calibre guns, aimed at the sky and ready to fill the air with thousands of rounds should an Imperial fighter get too close.

The Dimensionator itself stood at the centre of a massive bubble-shaped energy shield, it's surface shimmering as it caught the few rays of light piercing the cloud cover above.

"So, you're the one everyone keeps on talking about around here," a voice said by her side, derailing her line of thought. "The Rebel Lombax. Cool name, by the way."

Rivet flickered her eyes toward the source. Xavia was dressed up in a haphazard combination of military gear and industrial fatigues. Her brown hair was cut short in a mohawk, leaving most of her scalp's purple skin exposed. An old laser rifle hung from her shoulder.

She looked at her with an excited grin, completely foreign to her attitude but a moment before.

Rivet raised an eyebrow, slowly. "Uh, thanks, I guess. I didn't choose it though."

She was about to wonder whether she should follow the Markazians' example and find a place where to finally catch some sleep after the last two days, when the woman immediately leaned forward, hand outstretched. She giggled. "Name's Xavia. It's nice to finally meet you!" She looked as if she was about to burst out of her skin for the excitement.

Rivet regarded the hand for a moment before deciding to return the handshake with her prosthetic.

"Rivet. But I guess you knew that already." She paused for a moment. The whole situation seemed a bit weird to her. She was not used on all those attentions that she'd been receiving in the last days.

Xavia didn't seem to mind. Her full attention was actually directed at Rivet's robotic arm, her eyes glued at it with a mixture of awe and surprise.

Rivet noticed it, wrinkled her nose in irritation, and promptly pulled back from the handshake. She scowled, ears briefly flicking back.

"Oh, sorry," Xavia said, raising both hands before her. "Didn't mean to offend you, it's just-" She hesitated for a brief moment, one hand running through her hair. Then her grin returned, even broader. "It's so cool! The arm, I mean. Did you build it yourself?"

Rivet's eyebrow furrowed. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond. Obliviously, her left hand went to clench the wrist of her prosthetic, and quite hard at that. She thus retreated to her usual response.

"Yeah, something like that," Rivet blurted out.

"That's so cool! I know the guys in the Medical Corps have prosthetics too if you get something blown off, but those things don't hold a candle to that."

"I . . . thank you?"

"Oh, you're welcome." The grin on her face had gotten broader, and she giggled. "I would probably ask for an autograph right now, but I've got no paper with me. How about you sign me one later though? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Rivet blinked. She wasn't sure where the whole conversation was going, but she had to steer it somewhere else before it got into some uncomfortable territory. "So . . . what was that whole thing with Tanya about?"

"Uh? Oh, yeah, that. The usual, you know. Bloody MAE thinks they can order us around even while we're the ones kicking those tin cans off our planet." She shook her head with a tired sigh.

"MAE? What's that?"

"Markazian Army in Exile," Xavia said, then snorted. "A fancy name for those Nefarious didn't manage to kill when he first came around, and that were smart enough to run for the hills."

"Right. And you're saying that because you are from . . . where are you from, anyway?"

Xavia grinned impishly, one hand reaching up to tap the coat-of-arms haphazardly sewed on her arm, just below the shoulder. Three pink roses arranged in a triangle, with a pair of crossed rifles standing out in the centre.

"Markazian Liberation Front. Been with them for almost five years now. Anyway, enough with this stuff. The captain said you need ammunition, right? Do you have a Tele-equipper with you at least?"

Rivet nodded. "You don't?" She shook her head.

"Nefarious made sure none could get on the planet. Unless of course you go through the black market, but even then, the price for just one is enough to outfit a battalion. Still, if you do, that will make resupply easier and spare me a headache or two."

Then, she suddenly perked up. "Oh! Speaking of which, if you want, I have something nice I can offer you in exchange for that autograph. Just a minute," Xavia said as she turned around and started rummaging inside a few box crates, before pulling out a weapon from them.

"So, you see, we might not have Tele-equippers with us, but I've decided to tinker with it in my free time and add that feature anyway." She held the weapon before her with a grin. "Have a look."

Rivet picked it up quickly, making sure to examinate it thoroughly. It was some sort of heavy, tube-shaped rocket-launcher, not unlike the Warmonger she was familiar with, except this one had only one missile slot.

Upon closer examination though, she realized that the weapon was in fact more similar to a grenade launcher, as the projectile was fired by a compressed spring. A bit crude perhaps, and probably short ranged too, but Rivet couldn't really complain.

"It's quite something, isn't it? We call it the Arse-Kicker."

Rivet shot her a perplexed look. "You are kidding me."

"Well, the proper name is IGL-5," she admitted. "But seriously, what kind of name is that? Instead, 'Arse-Kicker' tells you exactly what it does. In this case, it launches a warhead filled with gelatonium, mixed fuels and other nasties, coats your target in that stuff, and let the flame do the rest." She flashed her a vicious grin. "Warbot armour is useless if you cook their circuits."

Rivet let out an approving sound as she completed the synchronization with her Tele-equipper, proceeding then to store the weapon away for the time being.

"Can't really disagree with that." Rivet grinned at her. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll find some way to make use of it."

"Oh, you'd better!" She was about to add something, though Rivet never heard the rest.

A loud piercing noise of static erupted from Rivet's earpiece, causing her to wince in pain. She wasn't the only one, as a cacophony of annoyed grunts and surprised yelps erupted all around her, as every single comm system was apparently affected. A few troopers, who just a few moments before had been relaxing with their comrades, teared the ear-comms away from their ears with pain-filled hisses.

The white noise subsided eventually, much to everyone's relief, only to be then replaced with a rambling, yet familiar voice. One that Rivet knew very well.

"YOU! You killed Him! You destroyed the greatest mind this galaxy had ever seen in . . . well, EVER! All His work, all of it, ruined by YOU!" Nefarious's assistant screeched into their comms.

"You pathetic and ignorant Lombax, you can't even begin to comprehend what you have cost us, all the work that you and your 'resistance' have undone! And for what? Freedom?" she sneered.

"What do you know about freedom? NOTHING! The Emperor would have carried us to an age of safety and prosperity! But nooo, you squishies always demand more and more! The very fact that He allowed any of your kind to live, only speak of his incredible generosity, one that you were too ignorant, too savage to even comprehend. There is no reasoning with you!"

"How the fuck did she manage to hack our comms?" Xavia hissed from nearby.

Meanwhile, Rivet listened intently, her prosthetic hand clenching harder and harder, the furious snarl on her face becoming ever more pronounced. The Lombax's white ears were pressed back. She bit hard on the lower lip, until she could feel blood in her mouth. She didn't notice the tense silence that had descended all around her

"But that's fine, because I'm not reasoning with you anymore. I know where you are, Lombax. You can't hide here, not on MY planet. And some of my minions are coming just to show it to you." She cackled through the comm. "You made a mistake coming to Markazia. Goodbye, Rivet."

The transmission ended just as suddenly as it had begun. Rivet had to exercise all of her self-control not to snap right there, foaming anger threatening to bust out like a flood through a dam. What's that thing that Kit said sometimes? Something about deep, constant breaths. She decided to have a go at it and, admittedly, it worked somewhat.

The alternative was to go find that snivelling mass of circuits and metal and rip her in half with her bare hands. That thought cheered her a little.

Eventually, Rivet looked up. Every single Markazian around her was glancing at her direction.

"Wow," Xavia eventually commented, breaking the silence. "You really pissed her off, haven't you?" Raucous laughter erupted from the other Markazians. Despite herself, Rivet found the corner of her lip twitching up.

"Shut it, everyone!" Tanya Apogee bellowed, having just emerged back from the tent, a furious scowl across her face. "Get back to your vehicles, now! We deploy in three minutes." Markazians resistance fighters wasted no time, climbing back to their feet and gathering their equipment before heading to their assigned vehicle.

Tanya activated her earpiece before speaking into it. "Echo-Four to all ground elements, possible hostiles incoming. Reach your assigned position and stand ready for sudden contact." He glanced briefly in Rivet's direction before continuing. "Echo-Four to Cobalt, we require air-to-ground assistance. Possible enemy forces moving on us."

"What is happening?" Rivet asked, sounding tense. "That was the Assistant, right? What is she planning?"

"I don't know about that, but we've got multiple counterattacks across the entire line."

"You think they're heading for the new Dimensionator?" Tanya shrugged.

"It's kinda hard to miss, isn't it? We've also lost contact with several elements in our backlines, including Colonel Veralux. Something strange it's going on, and I'm not liking it one bit."

Rivet froze. "What do you mean? What about the others? Clatchky? Phantom? Are they okay? Hell, is Kit okay?" A sickening feeling seeped into her stomach. If only they had remained together . . .

"Sorry, no idea. As I said, with still don't know much. Except we've got a ton of warbots heading our way." She unslung her laser rifle, slamming a fresh powerpack in the feeder slot. "They'll probably try and seize the Dimensionator and push us back. We can't move it, so we have to stand our ground. You are with us, Lombax?"

Rivet hesitated. If Tanya was saying the truth, then her friends were in danger. How had the Imperials managed to cut so deep into their rear anyway? What if they were hurt and needed help? She needed to go back, now! And yet . . .

Her gaze returned to the vast machine on the other side of the plaza. Alarms were ringing and screaming, Markazians defenders were already scrambling for their position, ready to repel any assault. Some distance behind, the massive anti-air guns opened up as one with a single, mighty roar, firing on some far away target up in the sky.

Tanya was right. That device might be dangerous, but she couldn't allow it to fall into the Assistant's hand, or worse. Her mind made up, she summoned her OmniMallet in her hands, twisting it in her grip a couple of times.

"Do you really need to ask it? Of course I am."

Tanya flashed one final grin. "Glad to hear it. Now, come on. Let's show those bloody tincans what happens when you mess with Markazians!"

---

Victory was impossible. LT-4471 knew that much already; it was ultimately a simple game of numbers, and his no longer added up, no matter what plan he elaborated. The Emperor's Legion had always been a mighty force to reckon with, maybe the greatest army Polaris had ever seen.

Yet, there was one outstanding flaw, one perhaps too easy to exploit; they had never been built with defence in mind. They were not meant to hold ground, but only advance, crushing any resistance under the weight of numbers and massed firepower. In that role, they excelled, but Markazia was not that kind of war. The defeat on Megalopolis; the loss of many more planets; and then Markazia, the absolute meatgrinder that war had turned into. They had all mauled the Imperial Legions into something unrecognizable; their numbers were too low now, and they could no longer be replenished.

Victory was impossible, so LT-4471 changed the paradigm. Victory was no longer the objective; survival was. And doing so allowed the warbots to concentrate his forces toward a more achievable goal. They could no longer win, but that didn't mean they had to lose.

LT-4471 raised his right arm, lifting the flamethrower up and towards the Markazians defenders that still continued to resist his advance. The pressure gauge flicked upward, a low growling sound erupting from the weapon. The ignition flame blinked to life in front of the nozzle.

Blaster fire fell all around him, a few managing to score direct hit on his armoured chassis, but LT-4471 ignore those. Pressure had climbed high enough by now, and the Markazians had nowhere to run.

A jet of gelatine-like fuel gushed out from the weapon, turning into a horrifying tongue of pure flame as it touched the ignition. The Markazians behind the barricade disappeared in an eyeblink, their screams drowned out by the roaring and crackling of fire. The lucky ones died immediately from shock; the rest burned at their posts.

LT-4471 directed the pressurized jet all along the defense line, the defenders either scattering in panic or set ablaze. He made sure to drench a nearby building as well, immolating the rocket troopers that had been firing from there only a moment before, their sandbags and reinforced plates offering little to no protection.

He then turned his attention back on the barricade, aimed a little higher and fired again. The solid stream of burning fuel soared over the obstruction and disappeared behind; more screaming rented the air, as those that had been spared during the first pass met their gruesome end. Soon came the crackling of burning flesh and boiling skin.

He cut off power to the weapon and lowered his arm, the last remains of burning fuel dripping down from the nozzle and slopping onto the ground. LT-4471 watched in silence at his handiwork; the position that had held back his forces for nearly an hour was nothing more than a smouldering ruin. He did not have a sense of smell, but he could imagine what the surviving defenders were experiencing right now; he knew for a fact that some still clung to life in the midst of that deadly inferno of searing heat.

He glanced down at his arm, at the new weapon that now replaced his quad-laser. The new addition was not a clean weapon; his old lasers had at least the decency to work quickly. Rather, it was an instrument of destruction preying upon organics' most primordial fears; a tiny portion of their brain that had remained stagnant despite centuries of evolution.

"Checkpoint has been cleared," he reported through the Imperial Net. "Advance now. For the Emperor."

The ground shook around as the Imperial forces surged forward. Warbots scuttled on their three multi-jointed legs, Blitztroopers and Sniperbots providing support from the air as they opened fire on the retreating Markazians. The hissing of ionized air echoed around them as a pair of Juggernauts, now part of LT-4471's impromptu honour guard, opened fire with their chest-mounted weapons upon a pair of light tanks rolling down the street.

Metal bended and melted under the solid energy beams, and one of the tanks went up in a ball of fire, the laser having touched its ammo depo. The other managed to put an explosive shell in the ranks of the advancing Imperials before being pounded mercilessly by concentrated firepower.

LT-4471 moved past the bodies of destroyed bots without much of a second thought. They were not warbots, merely local collaborators that had taken up arms in desperation. Their wielded a haphazard combination of laser guns, blasters and many different types of weaponry. Their bodies might have not been designed to possess the same endurance of warbots, but they could hold their own.

He checked his downloaded map of Kalithar and allowed himself a nod. The were making good progress so far, but they had to move quickly. He could only hope the Kartisians were doing what they had promised and that their assault was in full swing. As much as he despised them, and despite the non-existent trust he had in them, LT-4471 needed their help right now; his standard forces were depleted, and the rest of the mercenaries were deserting en masse.

Explosion echoed further down the street; the Markazians were without a doubt trying to stand their ground once again. LT-4471 switched to his tactical map and ordered two of his sections in a pincer movement while the squishies concentrated their efforts against the collaborators.

He moved past the still-smouldering barricade, the blackened and smoking husks laying all around him. He needed to preserve his forces as much as possible, at least until they reached the Dimensionator. The Kartisians, in the meantine, would proceed with a decapitation strike, hopefully paralyzing enemy resistance.

'We have no other choice. Victory on the rebels is impossible now, but we can still survive. All we need to do is grind their offensive to a halt, use their overconfidence against them. We can do it. We must do it.'

LT-4471 surged forward, his honour guard advancing right behind him through the ruins of Kalithar. More fighting awaited them ahead.

---

The OmniMallet connected with the warbot's glass pod, breaking it and showering her surroundings with glass and other electronic parts. The machine staggered backward, arms flying wildly, before it finally crumpled on itself.

Rivet let out a satisfied yet exhausted sigh, and she went to wrench the tool free from the pod. She had not time to admire her handiwork though, for the battle raged all around her. Laser beams sliced through the air as the Imperial warbots surged once more against them, only to find a determined Markazian defensive line to meet them. Kalithar's streets, once lined with blossoming trees and shops, were now a battleground, a funnel through which the Markazians hoped to delay the enemy's counterattack.

Their convoy had come to a halt in what looked like an abandoned commercial area, boarded-up shops and residential hubs at either side. Markazians troopers disembarked in a hurry from their transport vehicles under the leadership of screaming and furious COs.

"Alright, more of them are coming!" Tanya called out from her side. She tossed away an exhausted powerpack and slammed a fresh one in her weapon, before leaning out of her cover and letting out a brief, yet controlled burst. Another warbot some distance away dropped to the ground. "Everybody, keep an eye on your ammo and keep them at a distance. Let our vehicles deal with them."

The sentence was punctuated by an earth-shaking roar somewhere behind, only for an Imperial team some distance away to disappear outright into a cloud of smoke, the explosive shells turning them to scrap metal.

"Those guys really don't know when to quit, uh?" Rivet yelled at her, in an effort to be heard amidst the confusion. "For how long we have to remain here?"

"As long it is necessary," was her reply. "And besides, they can't really quit, can they? This is their last hurrah, so hold your bloody position!" The last part was spoken aloud and into her comm. The answer came shortly afterward as a furious roar of affirmation by all the Markazians present. There would be no retreat.

Rivet winced as her earpiece burst alive with activity, voices screaming one over the other.

"Delta-Four to all, we have visual on an Imperial Seekerpede. Echo Team, that thing is coming towards you."

"This is Delta-One, we're opening up with the autocannon. We'll try and drawn it away from- Shit, reverse! Reverse! Revers-"

"Delta-Three to Cobalt, Delta-One has been hit. Scanners negative for survivors. They're all KIA."

"Alpha-Two here, positive hit on the Seekerpede, but that thing is not stopping. Why isn't it stopping to engage us?"

"Holy fuc- ah, this is Beta-Three. You are not gonna believe this, but a Seekerpede just flew right over and past our position. Should we, uhm, should we engage it?"

"Cobalt to Echo-Team, we confirm Imperial Seekerpede moving to your location. Stand ready for engagement, it will be on top of you any moment. We're scrambling friendly assets to your position."

An explosion shook the ground. An armoured truck screeched to a halt. A small port-like panel fell open and the driver's head popped into view.

"The lead vehicle has been hit!" he announced, his voice on the verge of panic. "Out, all of you!"

The Markazians troopers scrambled quickly to their feet and descended from the transport vehicle, weapons ready and trained forward as they fanned out to establish a perimeter.

Rivet summoned her Buzz Blades, firing with abandon. Raritanium-tipped saw blades whistled into the air, slicing and cutting at warbots at their passage, before finally embedding in their armour. The Imperials scattered once more for cover.

The gun clicked, empty. Rivet moved to replace the magazine when something landed by her side. She glanced that direction to see Xavia, panting and wheezing, yet with a big grin on her face.

"Hey there, Lombax! How is it going? Are you having fun already?"

Rivet threw a brief, sceptical glance in her direction before checking the Tele-equipping device secured to her belt. She frowned. The signal was still strong enough to grant her access to her arsenal, but she realized with some surprise that her ammo reserves were running low.

"Xavia, shut up for once, will you?" Tanya shouted her direction. "We've got a bloody Seekerpede coming straight for us, so if you don't have anything useful to say, just shut up!" She turned her attention back on Rivet.

"Alright, Lombax. Ever fought a Seekerpede?"

"Yes. More than one, actually." Tanya raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Oh, okay then." She shrugged. "I was about to tell you how to deal with one, but never mind then. Can you kill that thing while I keep my guys and gals together?"

Rivet flashed her a grin. "Sure thing. Just give me a clear shot and it should not be a problem."

Tanya opened her mouth to reply, but sudden shouting erupted around them. Rivet saw Markazians troopers and resistance fighters racing past her in the opposite direction, falling back.

The ground shook a second time, accompanied by the sharp screeching of metal on concrete. Then came the staccato of gunfire, the buzzing of energy weapons and blasters.

Rivet couldn't hear what they were saying in the confusion, but a few freedom fighters were pointing at something down the street. Her eyes widened as they turned upward and towards the street's far end.

The leading APC laid there unmoving, burning. Gust of flames poured out from its ports as the ammunition cooked up, and a tall plum of black smoke billowed up in the air.

And through that smoke, the beetle-like head made its appearance.

The Seekerpede stood there at its full height, the towering, chitinous bio-synthetic body blocking the street with its massive bulk. White armoured plates glinted softly under the mid-afternoon light, occasionally marked by black explosion-marks and other dents and scars. His gargantuan metal claws were wide open, giving him the appearance of a hungry beast. The Markazians were but impotent ants, scrambling in panic before such warmachine.

The two wheeled armoured vehicles closest to it went into full reverse, their tires screeching on the broken asphalt. Their autocannons spat defiantly as they withdrew, but their weaponry pinged ineffectively against such armoured leviathan. In fact, they only angered him further.

The Seekerpede lunged forward with its head. One of the vehicles was too slow, and the warmachine's maw closed around the chassis, sinking deep into its light armour and crushing it. Inhuman shrieks came from inside as the vehicle was lifted high in the air.

Then the maw snapped close with a sharp metallic crunch, and they fell silent, together with the autocannon on its roof.

The Seekerpede released its grip and the doomed vehicle plummeted back to the ground, now nothing more than a crushed tin-can. It turned its full attention to the rest of the column.

Imperial warbots, clinging but a moment before to the bio-machine's long and chitin-like back, disengaged their magnetic clamps and descended into the street below. Laser flickered and flashed as they smashed into the still reeling Markazians.

Still, the shock was temporary. The Markazians were hardened combatants, their fighting skills honed by years of guerrilla warfare to free their home world. In but a moment, vicious return fire snapped back towards the bots, as freedom fighters took cover behind vehicles, street's corners, craters in the ground, anything at hand before opening up with their weapons. Further back, the surviving vehicles swung their heavy weapons around and unleashed a veritable hailstorm on the Imperials.

Warbots jerked and fell, their glass pods blown to smithereens, or were knocked out of their feet as autocannons scored the occasional direct hit. Unflinchingly, they advanced and returned fire, and Markazians began to die. Screams rented through the air as the warbots pressed their greater endurance against their organic opponents, forcing them back down the street. Vehicles were struck and consequently went up in fiery detonations.

Sluggers surged ahead, their mauls turning those who stood their ground into bloody pulps on the asphalt. Blitztroopers took to the air and unleashed their arm-mounted weapon system, lasers searing through the air as they cut apart entire squads in but a few moments.

"Back! Pull back!" a sergeant from Second Platoon called out, just as a laser beam punched through his forehead. The lifeless body collapsed by his cover. A couple more were caught by sudden enfilade fire as they rushed forward to retrieve his body, crimson energy beams slicing them in half.

Lips peeled back in a snarl, Rivet activated the Tele-equipper. A Lighting Rod appeared in her hand, and she wasted no time in putting it to use. Without a word, she charged into the fray.

The Imperial warbots found themselves suddenly on the backfoot, the Lombax using her extraordinary agility and quick reflexes to engage them at close range, whirling and dashing between the incoming shots.

The Lighting Rod sputtered and buzzed in her hand, each shot finding its mark on a mechanical opponent, sending his body into a series of electricity-induced convulsions. The Markazians quickly shifted aim and concentrated fire on the stunned enemy. Massed firepower turned those bots into smouldering carcasses of metal and circuits.

A pair of Blitztroopers tried to bring their arm-mounted, quad lasers to bear against their elusive target. Rivet tossed a Shatterbomb their way, the crumping detonation knocking them both out of the air and back to the ground.

The Omnihammer blurred in her hand. Everything around slowed down to a crawl; lasers flashed her direction, but none touched her. Rivet didn't even need to think about where to dodge or when to strike. Her body moved on its own, pure battle-hardened instinct guiding it in a deadly dance of twist and twirls, a veritable whirlwind.

It wasn't a foreign sensation to Rivet, but she'd never been able to properly describe it. Her mind had seemingly switched on the autopilot.

Each strike from her hammer was a crippling one; each shot from the blaster struck an opponent with deadly precision, sending him careening to the ground. Her mind only half-registered the fact that the weapon in her hand wasn't hers. Had she picked it up somewhere?

It did not matter in the end. The pod of another Imperial warbot exploded with an eruption of glass and broken hardware.

Still, it wasn't enough. The Imperials simply kept on coming, paying no mind to their losses, converging on her position. Rivet frowned as she activated again her Tele-equipper. Theirs was a brutal and fairly simple stratagem, but she could not deny its effectiveness. Imperial warbots could easily shrug off shots that would have otherwise maimed or outright killed organics.

Most of them, anyway.

The Enforcer's twin barrels roared in her ears, spitting super-heated projectiles against an incoming Slugger and effectively blowing him back and to smithereens.

Another came after the first one, barrelling towards her, a pair of massive, spiked fists raised and ready to strike. He never got a chance to use them though, as laser fire chewed through his armour and sent him collapsing on the ground.

She dared to glance back for a brief moment, and what she saw shocked her. Without even realising it, the Lombax had become the focal point of resistance. The Markazians weren't just advancing down the street, they were following her forward.

Rivet saw members of the MAE, donning their ubiquitous military fatigues and ceramic-plated battle dresses, as they leapfrogged from cover to cover, laying down accurate and deadly suppressive fire on the warbots. She caught sight of Tanya as she directed their advance, each time ordering a fire-team forward as another covered it.

Rivet had to acknowledge her command skill. Every bot trying to poke its bulbous, orange-hued head out was mercilessly cut down.

The much more numerous fighters from the Liberation Front moved forwards with them. They lacked the coordination of their colleagues, as well as their more professional equipment. Most wore scavenged and second-hand combat gear over working overalls or plain clothes, and their weapons were old but still reliable models.

What they lacked in professionalism however they made up for with sheer determination and massed firepower. Those warbots that escaped their near constant laser fire found themselves being blown to smithereens by their rudimentary, single-shot grenade launchers.

Xavia was amongst them, pushing her own comrades forward through a constant and loud stream of curses and shouted orders. That too was impressive, in its own way.

Armoured vehicles came immediately behind, some of them nothing more than converted civilian trucks with heavy guns on top. They swivelled their weapons up and opened up on the looming warmachine down the street, occasionally cracking a chink open in its heavy armour.

The Seekerpede however cared little for such struggle. Its armoured head and bulbous orange-glowing cockpit swivelled upward at the centre of the counterattack, his sensors zeroing on Rivet. Its head-mounted laser cannon glowed as the weapon charged up.

"Off the street! Get off the street!" Rivet shouted, immediately recognizing the danger. Those around her quickly followed the advice and broke into a run towards nearby alleyways and buildings.

"Move between buildings, you idiots!" Xavia bellowed somewhere behind as she grabbed terrified and shell-shocked recruits, pushing and shoving them toward safety. "Get out its field of fire! Do you want to get vaporized? Move!"

The Seekerpede fired with a keening whine.

The heavy laser sliced through the air in a powerful, solid beam. Rivet flattened herself on the ground without even thinking about it, pure instinct guiding her. The smell of ionized air assailed her nostrils.

The laser missed her. The troop transport behind was not that lucky.

The vehicle went up with a superheated fireball, the troopers around it simply vanishing in a rapidly expanding cloud of smoke. Around fifteen of them were caught in the explosion and the following hailstorm of shrapnel. Burning metal debris, dust and blackened body parts rained down the street.

Rivet heard a strangled grunt as Tanya jerked and dropped to the ground a few feet away. Multiple shrapnel wounds stood out from her side, right through her body armour, and blood gushed out from the injuries. Then Rivet's ears caught a soft wheezing sound, followed by a pained whimper.

Was she dead? Glancing over, she saw the body twitch, then move. She was trying to push herself up, her right arm laying limp by her side, unresponsive.

A voice in her head told her to get up and run. There was nothing she could do for her. The Seekerpede was approaching and both of them would die if she didn't get out of there first.

The advice was sound. Unfortunately, Rivet had a long history of ignoring sound advice.

The Lombax rushed to her side. Her prosthetic arm seized her around the waist and hoisted the injured woman over her shoulders. Blood sloshed over her suit and fur, but Rivet hardly cared. Now, she just needed to find somewhere safe – There!

She caught sight of Xavia in one of the side-streets further back, gesturing frantically at her to come over. A pair of troopers had deployed a tripod-mounted plasma heavy gun at the alley's mouth, and were now pouring suppressive fire towards the advancing Imperial bots, covering friendly forces as they began to disperse.

Without a second thought, Rivet broke into a run. She sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her on the uneven ground, the extra weight on her shoulders threatening to send her into a ruinous tumble.

Laser beams flickered again and again past her, slicing through the air and cracking apart the asphalt. Sensing the occasion, the surviving Imperial bots were surging forward once again, their shots licking at her heels.

Her adrenaline-filled mind raced, heart pounding in her ears louder and louder with each agonizing moment.

"Come on, come on, come on, we're almost there," Rivet hissed through gritted teeth. "Don't die now. Don't you dare to die now!"

She didn't know if Tanya could hear her, but at least the weak groans coming from her were somewhat encouraging. It meant she was in fact still alive. Leaking a lot of blood everywhere really quick perhaps, but still alive.

Rivet had almost made it to safety, when her ears caught the sound; a soft buzz, growing quickly in intensity. The Seekerpede was readying another shot, and she was out in the open.

"Ah, shit," Rivet puffed.

The Seekerpede fired again, and everything around her became suddenly bright.

Ω

The hov-bike soared through the air and over the asphalt, abandoned buildings on either side rushing past it like a blur. Its humming filled his ears. Visibility was low, the air filled with chocking smoke and soot. Maximilian passed by a burning habitation hub, the intense heat from the flames washing over his face for a moment.

He thought he saw a familiar place somewhere on his right; the very place he had brought Tanya for her eleventh birthday. He could not be sure, as half of it had collapsed under the weight of an Imperial fighter, the fuselage crumpled on itself like paper.

Maximilian Apogee trained his eyes ahead, sweat soaking his hands and forcing him to tighten his grip on the handlebars. He was having troubles getting his bearings amidst the destruction surrounding him, and to think he had lived there for half of his life. Now all streets look like the same, and those landmarks he had unknowingly relied for all that time now lay as useless piles of rubbles and burning skeletons.

Still, Maximilian had a mission to do. He would mourn the death of his city later, and hopefully only that. He took a left turn, dashing past the remains of combat vehicles and fallen warbots.

He had to reach the Dimensionator. He had to!

He frowned. And hope Tanya was not there as well, of course. If something were to happen to her . . .

Maximilian's face twisted into a painful grimace, his eyes watering for a moment behind his googles. No, he would not allow anything to happen to her.

'Fool. You were a fool. How could you not realize that this was their objective all along? They played you like a damn fiddle!'

He shook his head, before twisting the hov-bike to the side and avoiding the collapsed electricity tower now occupying half of the road. There was still time; there had to be still time. He just had to reach the Dimensionator and . . . well, find a way to fix this whole mess before it was too late.

Maximilian realized he would have to deal somehow with his colleagues. They were working after all on the device and, as much as he respected them, he doubted his explanation would be accepted. For that very reason, there was a holster with a plasma pistol on his belt.

He just prayed he wouldn't need to use it.

So busy he was with his thoughts that he failed to notice the flickering shape on a nearby rooftop. It lasted for barely an eyeblink, and then was gone, leaving the Markazian seemingly alone.

The hunter had finally found his prey.