"So, let me get this straight: we've all been sent to this network of space stations - which can range from islands to caves to deserts to who the hell cares what else, and might have been revived from death to be sent here - to fight, survive, and breed creatures to act as an army to retake Earth from an army of monsters controlled by some kind of weird crystal. And that army has mostly been defeated, but what's left of it is controlled by the guy running this ship, who wants to use it to spread his army across the cosmos. And the people leading us got dumped here by their boss - after making a request to handle a challenging situation for him, for god knows what payment - and now have to deal with something that could kill all of us in seconds, then use our corpses to make more forces. That all sound correct?"

"Yes, it does, Private Church."

"...How the fuck did we get involved in this again?"

"Some random Omnipotent being hacked the list of places/universes to draw survivors from and added your's to the list."

"...So you're saying there is a god, and he hates us?"

"I'm fairly certain there is more than one god, and this one is totally apathetic to your existence."

The blue armored simulation trooper just stared for a moment, then sighed. "I day three times, and this is what my fourth life starts as. Fucking ridiculous."

"Don't worry, Church! I'll make sure you live through this one!"

"Caboose, I think you're the last one to inspire confidence in Church by saying that."

"Why?" Asked. "What did he do?

The orange armored simulation trooper glanced at the red girl on a combat skirt. "Caboose is the guy who killed Church the first time."

"...Oh."

"Yeah. Look, Caboose might be Church's best supporter, but he tends to cause us a lot of problems relating to friendly fire."

"Ouch," remarked a girl of Scottish descent with a headband that resembled hi-tech rabbit ears, who soon glanced over at Church. "You certainly had things rough."

"Thank you, Ms...Cammie?"

"Call me Trixx."

"After the cereal?"

"Yeah. So, you're an AI?"

"Yes. Got a problem with that?"

"None - Chase is one too. Or at least he was."

"Seriously?"

"It's complicated as hell."

"Story of my life. What do you do, anyway?"

"Pilot mechs to battle the Union."

"...You have got to tell me more about that later."

"Once we're through with this, maybe."

"What does happen after this, though?" Questioned Grif. "Cause I'm tired of getting dragged into other people's conflicts."

Fide cleared her throat. "I'm assisting my superior in finding away to send you all back home. You've suffered enough."

"Would you forgive me for not believing you?" was Church's response.

"Yes."

Truthfully, Fide had the feeling that these conversations would be common over the next few. Her Commander had been running around the ARKs for only a month, but it had been a rollercoaster ride for everyone involved. Maybe after this was done things would calm down, or maybe they would be crazier. Fide wasn't sure what the future would hold, or how it would go.

But she would be really glad when it was over.

As far as preparations were concerned, everyone was getting things done as best they could - she remembered watching little Lelouch leading the young ones in building a new kind of Mek, while others marveled at the striders, Shadowmanes, and other bizarre creatures native to the Genesis ship.

Most of which Caboose had easily managed to befriend. Somehow. Apparently it had to do with befriending the dinosaurs that the ones known as the Reds and Blues had shared a moon with at some point.

Where the hell was the universe they had come from?

Oh, Fide knew which universe they had come from. She'd managed to rip that out of the computers that weren't locked behind the firewalls that the Legion commander had set up for the ARK network. The results had been enlightening, revealing numerous universes that ranged from sensible to understandble to downright bizarre choices for plucking survivors from - who the hell thought the Grid would make for a good selection place for surivors? Even Clu's reign would do nothing to fix that. Evidently, this had been one of the universes added to the pool for the sole purpose of seeing how pathetically the subjects within would flail about when converted into survivors.

Once again, fuck every single ROB who had vetted that list.

Her Commander better be getting some really good payment for this. And a full apology from their client for how absurd things were going.

Once that was handled, they could focus on dealing with everyone else they were stuck with. Fide seriously agreed with the sentiment of just sending them all back home and not getting them involved in the mess that was their affairs.

In all honesty, her Commander was just not a good commander. Sure, Fide had total faith in him being bable to fix any problem that came his way, but objectively? He sucked at being a Brutally Efficient Self Replicating Engine of War. He always wanted to solve problems personally, by using a squishy meat-sack body that was easy to break and better off being cloned than repaired. Fide, for the life of her, could not figure out why he was obsessed with this. She had found it fortunate that it resisted the power of the infernal machine that had shut off the commander network, but what reason did he have to keep using it? To remain 'human'? Sentimentality? A chance to use magic?

...Probably the magic.

Fide hoped that he either decided to reserve the organic chassis for certain occasions going forward or at least toughen it up significantly. Watching him throw it into battle (even if it was just one body that he could easily replace) made her worry without end.

AN: Some self deprecating humor for my birthday chapter this year. Anyway, read and review! This is Flameal15k, signing off!