Raise Your Hell

by TheLandMaster45

What exactly a Diver is to do when a force with a sick sense of humor decides to toss her off to a world where half of humanity is worth less than the dirt they die on, and the only hope for a red planet is a reckless band of orphans who fight with the help of demons from the past? Why... Raise hell, of course!

4. Chapter 4

Sadly, the ride towards CGS' base quite quickly lost its majesty once a sight Serena would forever dread came into view: a mob of children, wearing dirty uniforms, digging up the grounds surrounding the base while a group of some of the ugliest adults she had ever seen barked orders at them and waved clubs both at and onto the kids.

Were it not for the seat belt, sheer distance, and the need for keeping up appearances, she would have already leapt out of the truck and drop-kicked them all into submission. Unfortunately, for Orga's plan to succeed and allow the Third Group to give half of the adults some new breathing holes, Serena would have to play mostly dumb and make preparations for the take-over to happen.

Of course, mostly did not mean completely.

"Everybody get your game faces on, time to meet your fellow gun-toting maniacs," the ex-Diver called aloud into her comm piece, even if only two people who were wearing them could actually properly register her words in any method. "Argi, you alright in there?"

"Go to hell."

"Good, keep that attitude with ya, you'll need it."

"Are you sure about these mercenaries, Serena?" asked Liarina, her tone of voice quite skeptical even through the comm set's speakers. "I read up on CGS, they're nothing to write home about…"

"That's the point of it, Liarina. If they're small-time, then we can avoid detection for longer than with a well-known unit," replied Serena, her eyes never drifting away from the approaching gate currently guarded by four kids toting assault rifles. "Plus, this is the young miss' wish, so let's respect that, shall we?"

With her part said and a hum of agreement from Liarina in return, Serena waved to the rest of the convoy as they finally came upon the gate. In response, the APCs opened up the way for her truck and Kudelia's sedan to approach the base's gate and stop just shy of it, allowing the four kids to walk up to them just as Serena lowered the window of her door and peered down at the boy, even tilting her sunglasses up so he could look at her ruby-colored eyes. "Hey there, kid. We got a meeting with Old Man Maruba regarding a job, can you let us through?"

Considering the way the teenager simply blinked at her, perhaps he had never expected an oni to come knocking at CGS' door. Still, he seemed at least able to roll with the punches, choosing instead to signal for another one of the kids, who pressed down on the radio in his ear and began talking to the person on the other end. As they talked, the teen turned back to Serena and started scrutinizing her with a clear attempt at seeming threatening.

Said attempt crumbled when Serena gave him a smile and a wink, making the teen turn around nervously and cough into his hand, something that earned a chuckle from the ex-Diver. Moments later, the kid speaking in the radio returned and signaled the vehicles to go through, with the gates opening shortly after to allow the convoy into the base's interior.

The interior was just as Serena remembered it from the anime: a mostly featureless concrete patio, with a few hangars off to the side, the watchtower, a few smaller buildings scattered around, and the main one sitting almost smack-dab in the middle, its multiple glass walls clashing heavily with the metal everywhere else. Everything looked weathered and dirty, even if the dry climate of Mars likely spared the place from the worst, but it was blatantly clear that CGS' glory days had come and gone, otherwise they would have refurbished the whole base into something more proper.

And of course, as expected of a place run by a bunch of slave-drivers, things were already active inside the base as well. Mobile Workers were lined side-by-side, weapons raised and cockpits open as they were serviced by adults and kids alike, while truck-type Mobile Workers hauled around crates, and more adults ran other children through simple workout drills. Many of them stopped their work, however, to gaze at the convoy that soon began to slow down and parked in the middle of the patio. With expected professionalism, the Mobile Dolls began filing out of the APCs and offloading all the cargo both the transports and the trucks had brought along, piling everything on the ground before turning to stand guard over the crates. Following the androids were Liarina and Argi, both staring at their surroundings as subtly as they could and with differing levels of sympathy at the children of CGS, though they were quick to school themselves once they were approached by Serena herself, who signaled them towards the sedan. And indeed, not a moment later, the young miss and her aide climbed out of the car along with their M-Doll escorts, and while Fumitan was still wearing her blue dress, Kudelia had eschewed her more extravagant clothes for a simpler set of clothes: a red blazer, white blouse, jeans and cream-colored boots, with her hair done into a surprisingly compact ponytail, though it still reached past her waist in length. The Bernstein heiress thanked Fumitan as the aide helped her off the car, before calmly walking over to her erstwhile bodyguard, looking up at the horned woman with a calm, if determined, expression. "Thank you for your assistance, Miss Durandal," said Kudelia, bowing her head slightly to Serena. The ex-Diver, in turn, simply chuckled and gave the heiress a thumbs-up.

"No problem at all, young lady. Just doing our job." She then looked over Kudelia's head to something behind her, and when the heiress turned, she found a group of teens and kids approaching them, all of them wearing the same type of uniform as everyone in the base, and led by a man who the sight of makes Kudelia's spine crawl all of a sudden. It probably has something to do with his hard-set his scowl is, and it most definitely has something to do with the way some of the kids scowl in return to him, or even glaring somewhat worriedly at the large man.

Granted, he still fell short of Serena by several centimeters and kilos of muscle mass, so his intimidation fell somewhat short to both the heiress and the horned woman.

Once the group had closed in, the younger members stood to attention, while the adult walked forward and glared at Serena, who in turn, glared back, even flashing him a dangerous-looking grin that showed how sharp some of her teeth were, something that made him nervously turn his attention away from Serena and to the far-less intimidating heiress under her protection.

Kudelia would never admit she found the sight quite amusing.

But it really was quite amusing.

"I'm Haeda Gunnel, leader of CGS' First Group," said the man, his tone gruff and serious, like his expression. "I'm to escort you to our boss so we can formalize the agreement."

"Thank you, mister Gunnel," replies Kudelia promptly, her tone clipped and polite as she speaks to the man. Fumitan is by her side as well, silent, and she has her own calculating gaze aimed squarely at the man. "Please lead the way."

The man grunts in agreement, and turns around to face the children behind him, mouth opening and chest rising as he readies to yell an order of sorts.

"Oop."

That is, before Serena's hand clamps down like a vise on his shoulder, turning the building shout into a yelp of pain as the man tries and fails to release the woman's grasp from him.

"Let's not do anything nasty like yelling at a bunch of kids, shall we?" asks Serena in a perfectly cordial tone, even as she glares daggers at the man currently wincing in pain under her grasp. "Wouldn't want to make a bad impression on your client, would ya?"

"Y-You–!"

Creak…

"A-Argh!""

"Would. You?"

Kudelia can't help but feel intimidated, watching her hired security put even more force in her grip, and pushing the man further down with just one hand. She knows Serena is strong, she still remembered the sight of the woman lifting an impossibly heavy set of weights over and over with almost no effort. But to watch that strength be used against a person, even if he seemed unpleasant, was… different.

Scary.

And was it just a trick of her mind, or was Serena's body glowing bright red?

Finally, however, Haeda let out a strangled O-Okay!, and was promptly released from the position he was being held on, allowing the man to stand to his full height once more. With a half-hearted glare of anger, the First Group leader straightens his jacket and power-walks away, leaving behind a gaggle of children and teens watching everything unfold with utter shock coloring their faces. To their credit, they still do notice that things are moving, meaning they should as well, and in turn, the group follows behind their "leader".

That is, all but two of them.

Two of the boys, one taller with dark skin and lavender hair, and another very short one with a mop of black hair and (Kudelia actually gasps when their gazes meet) the coldest, most hardened blue eyes the heiress had even seen, both remained where they had been standing, watching Serena as she straightened herself up once more and looked at her hand pensively, before suddenly she seemed to realize she was being watched, and turned towards the two. All three held their gazes toward one another, until finally, the taller boy smiled mirthfully, and paced after the now-distant group of children, the black-haired boy following him not a moment later, and thus leaving Serena, Fumitan and Kudelia alone once more alongside other JSS soldiers, who had yet to move from where they stood throughout the entire confrontation. And after only a small moment of hesitation, the latter two took off walking, following the CGS welcome group to whatever destination they were leading their client towards, and thus leaving Serena by herself for a few brief moments.

And in that solitude, the ex-Diver once more stared at her own hand, confusion coloring her face.

"... What… just happened?"

-O-

GJALLARHORN'S ORBITAL HEADQUARTERS – SPACE STATION ARES

There was a rhythmic thumping being heard inside the hallways of Ares.

It could easily be mistaken for some form of ongoing maintenance being performed on the station's interior. Or perhaps some faulty piece of equipment acting up that needed fixing. At the most, one could think that it was the product of a particularly bored soldier hitting the walls just to ease his boredom.

None of these things were the correct answer.

The reason for the incessant banging noise was, in fact, the result of the station's commanding officer, Coral Conrad, taking a policy of seeing the walls of his office as a giant nail, and his head as an indestructible hammer to be taken to said nail with unrestrained abandon.

"DAMMIT! DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!"

Said action was compounded by his intense cursing and shouting, which thankfully did not carry as far as the sounds of his head slamming did.

But in his mind, Coral was absolutely justified in his reaction. After all, he had just been informed his (and by extension, his superiors') plans had just been completely derailed.

It was to be a simple affair: find Kudelia Aina Bernstein, guarantee her location, and then "remove" her from the picture, so as to cull any possible revolutionary movement. Simple, effective, and most of all, easy. Highly regarded as she was, Bernstein was only a young noble girl, hardly a threat against overwhelming firepower or a commando unit.

However, one massive wrench had been thrown onto those plans: they had lost Kudelia.

It shouldn't have happened, by all accounts. Norman Bernstein had been adamant that his daughter had remained at home almost all days, with only a visit or two to locales for public speeches, and their undercover agent keeping watch over her house had corroborated Norman's story. That she had left without warning or even a notice of where she had gone to was an unprecedented action, and now it had put everything at risk.

True, Mars was not a particularly large place, and there were only so many places Bernstein could hide, but that still meant Coral would have to find her, and then flush her out of hiding somehow. That would take time, time he didn't have.

Not when he had just gotten the call, five minutes ago, that the inspectors from the Earth Branch were on their way to Mars already. And if they got here before he had succeeded in capturing Kudelia, nothing would save his career.

Hence, his current manner of stress relief.

Finally, however, the pain in his forehead began to eclipse the relief the act gave, forcing Coral to back away from the wall, gasping for breath and nursing a budding bruise. "Of all the times for things to go wrong, why now," snarled the head of the Mars Branch as he paced back to his chair and all but threw himself onto the seat, hands already massaging his temples in a more sedated effort to stave away his headache. "Dammit, everything had been going so well… What could possibly have happened!"

There was a thought, back in the deepest recesses of Coral's mind, that somehow… somehow, that maniac Solomon had something to do with this. Coupled with that was a more… paranoid part of his brain, that wondered if Solomon and Kudelia were related somehow, but thankfully his more logical, power-hungry side squashed that idea with a vengeance.

And in the end, there was nothing Coral could do.

Nothing, but wait… and hope a solution presented itself.

The fate of Gjallarhorn depended on it.

And no insane maniac would get in the way of his ambition.

-O-

Meanwhile, at CGS' headquarters…

Kudelia would never regret her decision to hire out Chryse Guard Security. It was the first step in her mission to better life on Mars, and would put her in touch with the children she wished to help.

However, she could certainly say she somewhat regretted having to meet the adults in charge.

In another time, when her eyes could have been clouded by naivete and hope, she wouldn't have noticed the honeyed words and attempts at cozying up to her. But thanks to the last year of learning under a new teacher, Kudelia could see right through Maruba's spiel, and how much he seemed hell-bent on currying favor with her, most likely to try and squeeze out a bit more cash for the job. Or maybe try to make it seem like he was personally invested in her cause.

Whatever the reason, it already soured the heiress' opinion on the man, even more than the treatment the kids had been receiving already did.

Still, regardless of her personal opinions, she had made her choice: CGS would transport her to Earth alongside Jormungandr Security Systems, and Kudelia would have to learn how to juggle that situation to her favor.

Besides, it's not like her attention was focused on Maruba, anyway. No, instead, Kudelia had eyes solely for the children standing at attention off to the side of the room, perfectly still and with eyes facing fully forward. They were the people the heiress wanted to help, but at this point, she knew almost nothing about them. What were their lives truly like, their situation here, how had they gotten to the point of serving a PMC corporation to scrape off a living? And most of all, why did she feel such a… connection… to the boy with black hair and blue eyes?

Those cold, cold blue eyes…

What had made the boy's gaze be like that?

Amidst her reverie, Kudelia realized that Maruba had yet to stop talking, meaning that things would probably last for much longer unless she did something. And do something Kudelia did, mainly she rose from her seat, strode up to the children (while also ignoring Maruba's flustered babbling at being interrupted), and gave them all the warmest smile she could muster. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Kudelia Aina Bernstein," said the heiress genially. "Thank you for taking up this job. Your help is much appreciated."

The boys, in response, stared at her somewhat awkwardly, shuffling in place in a clear sign that they knew nothing about how to react to this. Kudelia, quickly realizing this, pushed onwards with her speech. "I'd like to know more of the people who I'll travel along with, and how they live their lives. Could one of you show me around the base?" When again silence was their response, the heiress turned to the black-haired boy, and walked to stand in front of him, staring him down as friendly as she could when she had a good few centimeters of height on the child. "What is your name?"

"... Mikazuki Augus," replied the boy finally after a long pause.

"Well, Mikazuki, would you mind showing me around the base?" Before anyone, including Mikazuki could reply to the question, Kudelia turned back to her assistant, who to this point had remained silent. "Fumitan, I'll leave things in your hands."

"Understood," replied the aide, all the while Maruba, and subsequently everyone else, stared in utter befuddlement. And with things now seemingly settled, Kudelia returned her attention to the black-haired boy, who in return, merely shrugged and turned towards the exit, followed a moment later by Kudelia herself, leaving behind a large group of confused children, a borderline-humiliated PMC leader, and an assistant who had by this point gotten used to most of her charge's whims. "Shall we go over the contract once more, Mister Arkay?"

-O-

CGS Mobile Worker and Cargo Storage Five

"Set those crates there, park the trucks next to them to hide them."

"YES, MA'AM."

Bit by bit, Serena's troops arranged things inside the storage area afforded to Jormungandr by CGS. It wasn't much, granted, considering it was the only underground installation they could provide in a short notice, but it had what mattered most to Serena: size, and privacy. The former gave her enough room to unpack all the equipment she had brought along, the latter guaranteed she could keep the things she wanted to stay hidden remained hidden, especially considering how much of said things were sensitive tech she could only unveil after Orga and the kids cleaned house, since they at least would keep quiet about it.

And if someone came snooping… Well, she had M-Dolls stationed there for that exact purpose. No one who shouldn't be here would be allowed to enter.

Once the crates and trucks were in the place she ordered them to, Serena let out a huff, then checked the datapad in her hands, making sure to mark down yet another work done. "Alright, almost done… wonder how Liarina and Argi are doing…"

"Pretty much done."

As if summoned by the question, Liarina's voice piped up from near the entrance to the storage area, prompting Serena to turn around to meet her, and see both the girl and Argi walking towards her. "Speak of the devil!" greeted Serena in return, the ex-Diver shoving the datapad into the hands of a passing Mobile Doll before walking towards her two newest colleagues, arms spread wide as if to hug them. "Did you pick some good rooms for yourselves? Nice bunks?"

"As best as we could get in there…" grumbled Argi, the young man's typical scowl making his feelings quite clear. "This place is a dump…"

"C'mon, it's not that bad here."

"He's not wrong, Serena," answered Liarina in turn, her own expression one of unease. "Things are pretty run-down in here…"

A moment of silence passed, until finally, Serena heaved out a weary sigh, and both lowered her head and began furiously massaging her brow with one hand. "Yeah… yeah, I know." A moment later, however, she halted the motion and raised her head once more, putting both hands against her hips. "Still, don't worry, we only have to put up with it for a while longer. And when we get on the Red Comet, I'll make it up to you two."

"You better…"

Argi's comment quickly earned him an elbow to his ribs by Liarina, which in turn elicited a grunt of pain and a side-long stink-eye from the young man, and a chuckle from the oni standing in front of the two. "Alright, if your dorms are set… how about Kudelia's and the soldiers' barracks?"

"We set everything out as best as possible for the young miss, and got the best room possible they had left," promptly replied the Morugaton heiress. "Most secure one, too, with an easy escape route to boot. We can keep Miss Kudelia very safe there."

"We also got the rooms for the soldiers set up, even if they won't be using them," added Argi, in-between rubbing the spot Liarina had applied her elbow against. "Would still be a good idea to have the robots fake being asleep."

"Noted." Taking one last look at her surroundings, Serena made sure everything was mostly set up, before returning her attention to the two people in front of her. "Alright, you two go have a good lunch break for now, cut back and relax a bit. Liarina, call up Volco later and see if he has any intel for us from up in orbit, maybe he spotted some movements from Gjallarhorn."

"Got it."

"Argi, when you have the free time, come back down here and call out for teams Gelgoog and Marasai. I'll need you to set up some security measures on the terrain around the base, just in case we get attacked out of the blue, and you'll be in charge of the Mobile Dolls doing the work."

"Alright."

"Good… remember, we're here for a job, so let's make the best out of it, okay?"

With equal nods of understanding, Liarina and Argi turned right around and left the storage, leaving Serena once more alone with the M-Dolls as her company. And once she was sure the two were outside of hearing range, the ex-Diver raised one hand to her ear and tapped the commset she had mounted on it. "Aria, you there?"

[Do you really have to ask?] the AI replied with no small amount of sass, something that earned a chuckle from Serena. [To answer your other question I know you'll ask: yes, I got into CGS' systems. Their banking data is still locked tight, but nothing I can't brute force my way through if need be.]

Hearing the news, Serena couldn't keep the grin off her face as she began pacing inside the makeshift hangar, staring at nothing in particular as she drank in the news. "Sweet, means Maruba's fucked if he tries pulling the funds."

[That was the intention, yes. I also took the liberty of procuring the password used for the safe in his office, just in case you want to pilfer that piggy bank, too.]

"Music to my ears, Aria!"

With a grin still plastered on her face, Serena went behind one of the trucks, and opened one of the many crates it was shielding from sight, taking a long look at the munitions stored inside before closing it up again, and repeating the process with further crates next to it. "Alright, that's the CGS side of things covered… what about Gjallarhorn?"

To no surprise, the AI's response to the question was a weary sigh, something that sounded just like she was a person on the other side of the line. [Still a no-go on Ares' military systems, but I can use civilian satellites to keep an eye on them from the outside, if nothing else… I'm also using the Red Comet's external cameras to do the same, but the distance from Ares means I'll have to use CG enhancements a lot to compensate.]

"That's fine, as long as you give me a heads-up when Gjallarhorn comes knocking."

[Obviously.]

Once she had checked the very last crate, Serena walked back around the truck, and gave one last cursory glance around the hangar before making her way to the exit door, ready to deal with the long, difficult time she'd most likely have here at CGS.

It'd be a while before things would get better, and it'd take a lot of work… but it'd be worth it in the end.

It had to be.

-O-

Meanwhile, in the interior of CGS' main building…

An orator could hardly allow themselves to be at a loss of words. Speaking was their line of work, after all.

Yet, words failed Kudelia as she watched the young boy lead her around the hallways of the base, emotionlessly listing each location as they passed it and never once stopping to look back at her. His posture, his words, what little she had gotten to see of his face… it all was so…

Dead.

That's the only word she could think of.

Everything in this boy… this child, younger than even her, showed the signs of someone who seemed to have just… given up. Like he had just come to accept his role in life, and had taken to simply living through it as best as he could, until he either passed away or…

"And behind this is the engine room. We have our own Ahab Reactor."

"… Excuse me."

It was the first time Kudelia had spoken since the boy had taken her on her requested tour. Shockingly enough, the boy indeed stopped and turned to look back at the heiress, that same placid expression still present in his face. Still, the fact he had stopped was enough for her, and so the heiress seized her chance. "I'm sorry, but could I ask you something?."

"... Sure," was all he said, and judging by his tone, nothing much more would come of it. Still, Kudelia did not falter, and once more allowed her thoughts to flow back to the tip of her tongue.

"It might be insensitive of me to ask this, but…"

"Hm?"

"… May I shake your hand?"

The motion itself was simple: raise a hand, offer it to Mikazuki, and hold it until he accepted the gesture.

And yet, for some reason, Kudelia felt as if the world rested on her limb. Especially when the boy's gaze shifted just so down to her hand, impassive, before calmly raising his own to the air. "My hands are dirty."

It was such a simple answer, short and to the point. And indeed, Kudelia could very well see the oil and grime coating his palm, staining the pale skin a deep black. It was a hand Kudelia had never grasped in her life. Nor had she bore in any stretch of time.

How much of a story did it hold?

"Yes, of course," muttered Kudelia, her own hand clenching slightly in reaction to the sight offered. Yet still, she couldn't help the nascent sorrowful smile that grew on her face. "But still, would you offer me that chance?"

Once more the boy betrayed no emotion, but for the briefest of moments, Kudelia caught the faintest spark of curiosity in his eyes, and that was enough to push her onwards. "At another time, I may have wished to see myself as equal to you. Maybe try and share your burden, in any way that I could, so that I could come to better understand this world that I wish to help. However…"

"Someone opened my eyes to the world. Someone who I had never met or heard of before, until the day they took to the same road as me. They made me realize that the world truly is a vast place. That I was foolish of thinking that I had seen everything, and could consider myself ever capable of standing as an equal to you all... At least for now, that is." And with one final shake of her head, Kudelia offered her hand once more, her eyes never averting from the boy's own. "But until then, I will start from zero. And if I have to dirty my hands for it, I'll do it as many times as it takes."

Throughout the entire speech, Mikazuki remained still and silent, and even at the end, he still would not give her a reply, merely staring at the outstretched hand in indifference.

Yet, in the end, the boy finally seemed to come to a decision.

And it was with those big, dirtied hands of a killer that Mikazuki grasped onto Kudelia's, gripping as firmly as he could, and leaving darkened stains all over them as he pulled away, before calmly turning around and beginning to walk once more, toward another inane stop in the tour. "Come on, this way."

It wasn't the most grandiose of first steps… but it was a start nonetheless.

-O-

Two days after arrival…

"This isn't… what I had in mind… when we came here…"

With each labored breath, Argi took another step up the cliffside, carrying in his back yet another rocket launcher to be mounted on an enclosed outcropping, just deep enough to hide it away from view, but with enough clearance to allow the rocket to fire unimpeded.

Something that he had done eight times already.

At least he hadn't been alone in this endeavor: performing the same activity, only with no complaints at all, were the Mobile Dolls Serena had promised as assistance, each one hauling a crate on their back as they trudged resolutely across the rocky terrain.

And hadn't that been something wild to find out: actual, legit robots. Like tiny Mobile Suits, walking and acting like soldiers. Argi still remembered how surprised Liarina had been over the fact all of Serena's troops were machines, not just the cylinder-shaped bots she kept hidden away inside her company building, or the ball-shaped ones that acted as engineers. She had also vouched for their competency, both by showing them operating under simulated environments, and their recorded deployments throughout Jormungandr's existence. And if Argi was to be honest… they creeped the hell out of him.

The Mobile Dolls never talked outside of interacting with Serena, asking for orders or giving reports on whatever task they just finished. Other than that, they walked around silently, with movements that looked organic enough, but stopped a bit too fast to really belong to a human. They also were all the exact same height, aka about the same height as Serena herself, meaning they all towered over everyone around them, always looking down with those visored helmet-like heads of theirs. All in all, they were inhuman in just the worst ways possible… but the thing that worried him the most, was that when Argi told Volco about them, he had made clear his implant found absolutely nothing on the Mobile Dolls, or any of the other tech Serena used.

Argi wasn't that well-educated, but even he could tell this was incredibly suspicious. How did this PMC owner come across all this hi-tech equipment that no one else had, and apparently didn't even exist before? And if she had this stuff, what stopped others from somehow getting it, too? Sure, she was using all of this mysterious equipment to help them and all those other folks who had showed up for the meeting all those months ago, but it still didn't answer where it had all come from.

At least Argi had been getting plenty of use out of at least one such equipment that Serena had: her combat simulator. It was shockingly high-specs, complete with entire scenarios pre-loaded into it, and an outright insane amount of data on Mobile Suits, including the Astaroth itself. To Argi's surprise, not only did said data include Astaroth current appearance, it also allowed him to see Astaroth as it would have looked like if fully restored with all of its armor and weapons.

And like a lot of Serena's stuff, Volco had made clear that a lot of the Mobile Suits the simulator had data on didn't exist, something that only made the mystery surrounding the horned woman bigger and creepier. That still didn't stop Argi from sinking as many hours as he physically could into the thing, all for the sake of becoming a better Mobile Suit pilot. And while the difficulty of some scenarios and fights were testing his limit, the young mercenary could definitely tell he was growing more skilled with piloting Astaroth: his reaction time was getting faster, his maneuvers sharper, and his accuracy and skill with both melee and ranged weaponry were slowly improving, something Serena had commented more than once already.

In the end, progress was progress, no matter how shifty its source was. And if Argi could use this to become stronger in order to get his revenge, then regardless of where Serena had gotten all these things, the young Mirage would put it to use.

With a final grunt of effort, Argi shoved the missile launcher into the crevice and secured it with some bipods. Just as he raised himself off the ground, Argi heard the sound of footsteps approaching him, and a turn of the head confirmed it to be one of the Mobile Dolls he had brought along. "DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE, ALL WEAPONS IN PLACE," said the robot in that deep, monotone voice that made Argi's skin crawl. "REQUESTING PERMISSION TO MOVE TO SITE EIGHT."

"Yeah, go right ahead, I'll circle back and check on the explosives," replied the mercenary with a wave of his mechanical hand. "When you're done go set up the sniper perch."

"UNDERSTOOD, AGENT MIRAGE."

And with that, the robot moved away, joined soon after by its compatriots that were now box-less, before walking off to another cliff side. After a moment of watching the robots leave, Argi let out a weary sigh, then ran a hand through his hair, wiping the sweat and dust off it.

Four sites down.

Five more to go…

"No rest for the wicked, I guess…"

-O-

Three days after arrival…

"Let's go, let's go!"

"Yeah, let's go!"

Cookie and Cracker Griffon were, at the best of times, untamable. They knew all the best hiding spots, the best places to lose pursuers, and the shortest routes to take to get wherever they wanted to, and no adult or kid in all of CGS could catch the twins if they truly put their mind into it… except Biscuit, but his headpats were on a whole 'nother level.

Case in point, the two Griffon twins were easily making their ways through the corridors of CGS' main building, expertly avoiding any guard or patrol that could have intercepted them en route to their intended destination: the kitchen.

Because the kitchen was the only place they'd be able to find some kind of snack that they could pilfer away, even if most of it was bound to be fruits at best. Still, snacks were still snacks. And Cookie and Cracker would never leave a snack uneaten if they could help it.

"Almost there!" whispered Cookie, or as close to a whisper as the girl could achieve with how much energy she had constantly.

"Yep yep, so close!" replied Cracker with the same amount of subtlety, aka almost none.

Granted, they hadn't found any CGS guards walking around, only those weird, tall ones working for the huge lady with horns who had showed up a few days ago. And for some reason, none of them really reacted to the two girls running past them, not even looking down at the children as they crossed paths. Weird, but at least they didn't rat out the two to someone from the First Group. And at last, after just a minute more of walking, the Griffon sisters had reached the door to the kitchen. However, rather than rush in and try to pick out a sweet or two hidden inside, the two girls stopped just short of the door. For you see, the door was not locked and closed as they had expected it to be, but instead was unlocked and ajar, with light clearly visible through the crack of it, and furthermore, with the sounds of someone being inside easily hearable from where they stood.

With their plan having hit a bit of a snag, Cookie and Cracker instead sneakily approached the door, keeping themselves pressed against the wall as they scooted closer to the kitchen. Once they reached the door proper, the twins slowly and carefully peeked their heads around the corner provided by the door being ajar, and took note of who could be inside the kitchen so early in the day.

Not so surprising, one of the people inside was Atra, working diligently to ready the next batch of meals for the base, as she always did.

More surprising, however, were the other three people inside the room: two young women, one with short red hair, the other with a HUGE blonde ponytail, with the former happily teaching the latter through the process of preparing the food for lunch, like a mother helping her child during their first time cooking. The third person in the room the sisters did not know, an older woman in a blue dress who looked a lot more serious than anyone else in the kitchen, was standing next to Atra, calmly helping the young girl get through the workload of lunch prep.

In summation, the kitchen was the most occupied Cookie and Cracker had ever seen it be, meaning that their chance to get their hands on snacks stealthily was a failure.

That didn't mean they still couldn't try and salvage this situation. So, with a new plan forming in their mind, Cookie and Cracker looked at each other with matching playful smiles, before promptly barging their way into the kitchen.

"HEY THERE, ATRA!"

"GOT ANY SNACKS FOR US?!"

Though that probably hadn't been the best way to go about things, considering how loudly the blonde-haired lady squeaked in response to their arrival, or the fact she flung the knife she had been holding onto backwards.

Still, worth it! For the snacks!

-O-

Five days after arrival…

It wasn't always that Mikazuki couldn't sleep, but tonight was one such time. The climate had grown particularly chilly, and as always Maruba refused to up the heating for their dorms past the bare minimum, plus he had lent his blanket to another kid, leaving Mikazuki with only one option to get some proper sleep: head to the warmest place he knew in the whole base.

Thankfully, none of the First Group members assigned to security patrols actually had taken up their posts, so the path to the reactor room had been clear of anyone.

Or, rather, clear of anyone trying to stop him. More than once Mikazuki had crossed paths with one of those weird soldiers that had arrived a couple of days ago, but none of them had done anything to try and stop him. At most, they would give Mika a nod or salute, only to immediately return to patrolling the hallways.

All in all, Mika didn't quite know what to think of them. And truth be told, he didn't very much care. As long as they didn't bother him, he'd have no reason to bother with them.

And yet, he still felt bothered by something. It wasn't by them, per say, nor was it by that weird boss of theirs that Mika had watched man-handle Haeda into the ground when she first arrived.

No, what bothered Mikazuki so much was their main client, Kudelia.

She hadn't been rude to him or the other kids. In fact, she had been nothing but polite to all of them, even offering to work in the kitchen, though he had caught glimpses of Atra and Biscuit's sisters teaching her how to cook, so maybe she had needed lessons beforehand.

Still, she was quite unlike what little Mikazuki had thought her to be like: rather than some spoiled or naïve noble, Kudelia had been… approachable. More than once he had caught sight of her trying to help out with whatever task she could perform, or tried to strike up a conversation with the other kids. It never lasted very long, since some of the questions she asked were above what they could feasibly answer, but what little she got seemed to be enough to satisfy Kudelia's curiosity.

And yet, why would she bother? She was their client, they were just the contracted muscle hired to keep her safe. Why would she take time to get to meet them, when they could very likely die during the job?

Maybe it had something to do with that weird person on the radio. Kudelia had seemed quite interested in what they had to say… so did Orga, actually… Well, as long as it didn't bother Orga in any bad way.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mika finally arrived at the reactor room, ready to finally get a good night of sleep. That thought was quickly shunted away, however, when he opened the door to the room, and realized he wasn't alone in the room… by a wide margin. For rather than the giant empty concrete hole that the room was supposed to be, Mika instead found himself staring at a veritable horde of tiny robots with colorful balls atop of them, frantically running from one side of the room to the other carrying tools, equipment, or even entire tubes that, with a glance to the side, he confirmed to be connected to propellant tanks.

All of this was being utilized on the metal giant in the middle of the room, who now had far more tubes connected to it than before, plus a few extra pieces of armor Mika knew the Mobile Suit did not have prior, and an actual cockpit now mounted on the previously-hollow section of its torso, and which Mika could also see had come from a Mobile Worker that was parked off to the side, laying open and missing the sameself cockpit now mounted on the Mobile Suit.

And, to almost no surprise from Mika, the entire thing was being shepherded by the newly-arrived PMC leader, Serena, who was standing in the middle of the room with a big grin and commanding the multi-colored balls with many motions of her hands. "Alright, make sure those shoulder guards are strapped tight, fellas!" she shouted up to the balls riding atop of tiny robots who were perched all over the Mobile Suit's shoulders, soldering the armor parts into place. "And get that cockpit settled in nice, I don't wanna see any rattling seats, ya hear me!"

"YES BOSS! YES BOSS!" was the cacophonous reply from the balls, some of which even waved back with their robots' tiny clawed hands, before promptly resuming work.

"And don't you dare skimp on refueling! I want those propellant tanks topped off– Oh hey, Mikazuki."

As she was turning around to give more orders, the woman quickly pivoted to greeting the newly-arrived boy once she laid eyes on him, apparently not at all surprised by Mika's arrival. So, with perfect calm, the woman walked up to the boy and stopped a few steps away, doing her best to look down at him without seeming condescending. "I take it ya couldn't sleep, huh?" she asked in a friendly and calm tone, something that contrasted heavily with her overall… everything, really.

Mikazuki, however, remained as nonplussed as ever, and instead simply stared at the towering woman with the same deadpan look he had most times. "What are you doing down here?" he asked in his usual monotone voice, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, and coincidentally, grasping the handgun he usually kept hidden away for safety. "This place is off-limits."

"Says the kid who uses it as an extra bedroom."

"I work here."

"... Well, you got me there."

Another chuckle, this one followed by the woman somewhat sheepishly rubbing the back of her head as she glanced back at the Mobile Suit kneeling behind her. Somewhat suspicious, just like her being here at all or even knowing about the Mobile Suit, but not outright antagonistic. It still left the reason for why she was here unknown, however, and that didn't sit well with Mika.

It could put his comrades in danger, or Orga. So he had to find out more. "So, why are you here?"

Once more, the woman took a moment to reply, turning back to stare straight at Mika's eyes, red and blue contrasting heavily with one another, just like everything else between the woman and the young boy. And for a second, Mika swore he saw a flash of gold amidst the red of her eyes, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving him free to focus on the woman's lackadaisical smile as she put her hands against her hips. "I picked up the Ahab Wave signature of the big fella while I was here, and it matched up with one I had in a personal database for Mobile Suit identification signals, so I came to have a look." With an almost amused sigh, Serena then turned fully back around and stared at the white machine with a fondness Mika couldn't really understand, her posture still relaxed even while with her back turned to the boy she most likely knew could kill her. "I like Mobile Suits. A lot. So when I found out you guys had a Gundam Frame down here, and he was left to rot like this… well, call me a sentimental lady, but I couldn't leave the poor bastard like that. So I sneaked in the parts and just… took to fixing it up."

"And then I realized that maybe the suit's systems and reactors weren't properly tuned, and it'd be easier to check up on that if it had a proper cockpit, so I put one in from a Mobile Worker that I was already gonna modify to have a cockpit that I could fit inside of… and then you walked in, we had this conversation, and that's the end of the explanation."

With her speech finished, Serena turned back towards Mikazuki, who had yet to move since she had started speaking. The boy, in turn, swapped his gaze between the strange woman who had made herself a part of CGS' daily life for almost a week, and the half-restored Mobile Suit behind her that she apparently just knew they had, and that for some very convenient reasons she decided to fix-up free of charge, and finally to the robots that she apparently brought in without telling anyone, and that were fixing everything up better than anyone else at the company ever did.

All in all, she still was pretty suspicious, and Mika had more than enough right to bring all of this to Orga so he could do something about her. But at the same time… she had been behaving far better than any other adult Mika had seen pass by CGS, and Orga himself hadn't mentioned anything about dealing with her…

So, in the end, Mika was willing to wait. He'd still keep an eye on her, yes, but for now, there was no reason to outright antagonize her. So with that in mind, Mika let go of his hidden handgun, and trudged his way to a corner of the reactor room, one he usually slept on. And Mika certainly was not surprised to find a pillow and sleeping bag waiting for him, the source of which he could make a good guess on.

And as he tucked himself in to sleep, Mika heard the woman call out for the robots to "wrap it all up for the night", followed not long after by all the equipment being tucked away, and the lights being turned off.

Yet just before he fell asleep, Mika couldn't help but wonder if the humming he started hearing was just his imagination… or if it really was coming from the now-fixed Mobile Suit…

-O-

Seven days after arrival…

One would not think living in the base of child soldiers with the threat of an attack by an extrasolar paramilitary organization hanging over your head would be uneventful. But once again, the universe surprised Serena with curve balls.

It had been one week since they had arrived at CGS' base, and to her utter surprise, things had remained quite calm, at least in terms of outside interference. Gjallarhorn had yet to show up for Kudelia, and bar a single incident involving Sasai and his desire to apply baton hits to children's heads that, unfortunately for him, Serena took some umbrage with, the adults had been keeping quiet around the kids. Maybe her little intimidation trick with Haeda served to keep everyone in line, who knows.

The point is, the week had mercifully been a quiet affair, meaning Serena and her team had plenty of time to prepare: traps had been laid, troops prepared, and the Mobile Worker she had taken for herself after mounting its cockpit on Barbatos had been properly modified with one she could fit into. Serena had also swapped out its 30mm machineguns for a pair of 60mm cannons, the same ones Eugene's MWs would show up with during the siege of Edmonton. She had many more stashed away back in her Nest, a much safer place to keep them than JSS' building or even here, where one of CGS' workers could discover them. Once the kids took over, she'd bring them over as a peace offering, maybe spin a tale about it being meant for her own Mobile Worker force that she instead decided to donate so the kids could put up a better fight against enemies. And sure, it'd be a long, long time before they fought Mobile Workers again after Gjallarhorn's opening attack, but better they be prepared for the time they needed them instead of having sub-par equipment when the going got rough.

She'd also been in contact with not only Miorine, but also Zaza as well, who had finally fully relocated to Dort 3, and was now running security jobs on Dort 2 for the worker movements. Sure, it didn't pay even half of what the more corporate jobs offered to keep the CEOs and executives safe, but then again, that's what Serena's black budget was for. Plus, it let her keep an eye on the relief supply shipments Ochs Earth had been sending to the workers of Dort 2, and make sure the gears were kept greased so that everything actually got to the civilians, and wasn't instead intercepted by Gjallarhorn due to "content checks" or whatever the hell other excuse they could use to impound food and medical supplies indefinitely.

Plus, if they wanted to find weapons or war equipment… Well, Serena had stashed those away in the colony already a long while ago, they wouldn't be found until she actually got to use them. But that was months from today, if not longer. For the moment, she'd keep the flow of goods coming, and make sure the workers were placated enough that an armed uprising couldn't be risked. And if what Zaza had been feeding her was correct, then Navona was indeed keeping everyone in line, just so the relief supplies could keep flowing. The less excuses they gave to Gjallarhorn, the better. It made both Miorine and Serena's jobs, too, so win-win.

Bar that, the only thing of interest outside of Mars she had heard from was from Wistario, who once more thanked her for the shipment of Haros. Apparently, work had gone significantly smoother thanks to the bots' assistance, and Radonitsa's infrastructure was now running a lot better compared to when Afam Equipments only had a few hands to spare. Sure, living conditions weren't that much better, especially since even with everything Serena had smuggled in, they still couldn't do overt work without Gjallarhorn catching wind of it all, but at least what was already present didn't deteriorate more. And when the time was right, Radonitsa would become a better place.

Serena had a promise to keep, after all.

But, again, that was for the future. Now, however, she had more pressing matters to attend.

Namely… it was about time Solomon showed up for another transmission.

Aria, ready the transmission, make sure our security's up and running.

The thought was made without a change in her facial expression as she stared blankly ahead at the outside cafeteria, or even a twitch from her hands as she brought the spoonful of meat and vegetables to her mouth. And when the AI sent a signal of confirmation back to her brain, along with a remark about Serena "a bitch of a slavedriver", the only sign of the ex-Diver having gotten the message was a slight chuckle muffled by her mouthful of food. Thankfully, none of the children around her raised questions, though admittedly they had no real reason to, especially since Serena had picked a table more isolated from the others, allowing her peace of mind from the hustle and bustle of the kids eating and chatting away.

It also had the bonus of leaving it easier to discreetly signal Argi and Liarina as they passed by with trays in hand, allowing the three to sit in moderate privacy as they picked at their food. "Alright folks, talk to me: how are things so far?" asked Serena, giving her co-conspirators as friendly a smile as she could.

"Traps are all in place, just gotta man them," replied Argi, the young man mindlessly picking at the sausages in his own plate. "Not that they'll help a lot if Gjallarhorn brings Mobile Suits down here… you sure they're really coming?"

"Oh, I'm quite positive about it."

"But we made sure to hide our movements so well," half-whispered Liarina in return, her eyes flitting off to the side as she stared at a particularly heartwarming sightt: Kudelia Aina Bernstein, working alongside Atra Mixta and Biscuit's sisters Cookie and Cracker to serve up food for the children from the Third Group, a pleased smile on her face as she poured bowls of soup and handed them over to the ecstatic boys. "How would Gjallarhorn know where we went?"

"Because even if people didn't see us, the cameras certainly did," replied the ex-Diver with a sad sigh. "There'll be footage of our convoy leaving the city, and of Kudelia's car joining us. And if I tried erasing the evidence, they'd just get even more suspicious of us, especially of JSS." Casting one last look at Kudelia as the heiress offered the passing Mikazuki a plate with thickly-sliced vegetables, Serena couldn't help the pang of disappointment in her heart, even as she brushed some locks of her hair off her face. "Really, I'm surprised it's taken them this long to find us, but at least it gave us some good prep time."

"Mmm… alright, so what do we do, then?"

Before an answer could be given, however, a slight crackling sound began ringing right next to their table, loud enough that even some of the nearby kids turned their heads toward it.

The source of said sound, of course, was the radio Serena just so happened to have placed on another table, and that up to that point had yet to pick up any signals… Until now, that is.

"Greetings, once more, to all people in the world."

"For now? Sit back and enjoy the show."

-O-

EN ROUTE TO MARS – ABOARD BISCOE-CLASS GJALLARHORN TRANSPORT SHIP

"Tch… this crazy fool again…"

The chuckle that escaped McGillis' lips was laden with amusement, and all of it was caused by Gaelio's recent yet unusual animosity towards the cloaked figure that overtook their main screen, those piercing golden eyes glaring defiance at the world.

"You certainly seem quite riled up, Gaelio," said Fareed, turning his head just so to give his friend a playful smirk. "Weren't it you who said Solomon was nothing more than a nuisance?"

"That was before I read the reports from the colonies," replied Gaelio in return, a sneer clear in his face as he glared at Solomon's image, arms crossed almost defiantly as he let out a huff. "I don't know who this is, but this coward's clearly content with sitting back and causing all the chaos he pleases. It's unsightly."

"And yet they are having an effect on you, no?"

"Tch…"

Of course, their banter would not matter to Solomon, who merely gestured with their hands to their audience before resting them once more on the table. "Allow me to preface this broadcast by apologizing for my continued silence. Though I had more than intended to speak to you much sooner, it would appear Gjallarhorn has been quite motivated in striking both my name and intentions from public view."

"But I assure you all, listeners, that their efforts will never bear fruit. For when the just wish to be heard, there shall always be means for their voices to echo out. Alas, today we shall not discuss our most benevolent caretakers. Gjallarhorn's actions and deeds are many indeed, after all, and there shall be a better time and place to espouse on their existence. Today, we shall instead focus on what they consider to be their ward by right. Today, listeners… we shall discuss Mars."

If Solomon had his curiosity before, now the masked figure had McGillis undivided attention.

Not to say that Fareed had not been interested before in the figure, far from it. In fact, the day after his first broadcast, McGillis had spent the entire day sitting in front of a computer terminal, scouring Gjallarhorn's databases for any information likely tied to the mysterious speaker. And yet, not once had Gjallarhorn encountered an individual such as this, be it in terms of name, deed or objective. The only scrap of information in any way related to the mysterious figure had been oblique references in an old, downright ancient book pertaining to demonology, one that Gjallarhorn most likely had archived just as a matter of formality, rather than with any specific goal in mind.

That said information named Solomon as "a king who held dominion over devils" only made McGillis' curiosity peak higher.

"Yes, humanity's greatest conquest among the stars. That those who are now long gone were capable of terraforming an entire planet, and making it hospitable for human colonization truly speaks of the wonders that the Age of Calamity has swept away. Those who were brave enough to venture into this unknown horizon and saw fit to risk their lives for the possibility of mankind expanding across the stars would have been seen as pioneers, heroes, perhaps even martyrs, should they have not survived their mission."

"And so I ask… what changed?"

McGillis had to praise Solomon's skills in theatricals, as they pressed their hands together, then pulled them apart, allowing dozens of different images and videos to grow and cover the screen, and while none of them were quite the same, all portrayed the same thing: suffering and pain.

People in the streets, suffering from hunger and poverty, or selling themselves for whatever value others would deign to throw at them. Recordings of the innumerous slums, with dilapidated buildings in every corner and street, some barely better than standing walls with a hole for a door. Shots of what few factories and corporations existed on Mars, surrounded by protesting workers who ran the gamut between disheveled to mostly normal-looking, and who themselves were surrounded by heavily armed and armored Gjallarhorn soldiers.

And of course, there were the protests.

McGillis hadn't had the time to follow all of them, his position would never allow it, but he had seen more than his fair share of broadcasts covering said events, be they done by the public news teams or by Gjallarhorn's surveillance teams. But even that paltry number was enough to make the Fareed heir's hands tighten around each other as he beheld broadcasts both he had already seen, and ones he hadn't, of people who years ago would indeed been seen as heroes and pioneers.

Yes, in an age long past, led by a hero and visionary who truly understood humanity…

"Discrimination and prejudice, brought forth by those whose souls are still weighed down by gravity," spoke up Solomon, their pose unflinching as always, but with clear contempt in their voice. "Those who were too cowardly to leave their cradle now pass judgment upon who they consider beneath them. Humanity went to space so that the planet would not collapse under the weight of the people on it, and so our planet would be allowed to heal and thrive from the damage we inflicted upon it, but it seems that the Age of Calamity erased not only the nobility of Mars' past, but the respect Earth once held for it."

"But I suppose not all have forgotten it. After all, as long as the masses continue to rise, that memory will never be forgotten, no matter what those on Earth speak of you. And I do not mean to neglect those who live in the colonies," added the figure with a wave of their hand, some of the images being replaced instead with pictures from inside the cylinders, be they the slums, the protests, or the factories' downright draconian-esque work environments. "After all, just as the first Martians braved the inhospitable land of the red planet, those who took to the unforgiving void of space risked everything to forge humanity a home truly amongst the stars."

Raising one hand to shadow his face just enough to keep it hidden from Gaelio, McGillis chanced a sideways glance at his companion, and was sadly not surprised to see the man's scowl still in place, clearly unmoved by the words of the cloaked figure. Likewise, the other crew members seemed likewise unaffected, though McGillis had not expected Solomon's words to reach them. It'd be wishful thinking at best to hope that the more uncultured masses serving under the aegis of Gjallarhorn would heed the words of a revolutionary, no matter how much weight they carried, but at the very least, those who should hear them would certainly pay attention.

After a long, silent pause, Solomon waved their hand once more, dispelling the images and leaving the screen clean of any obstructions. "Once more, I request that any with a fair sense of justice enter the databases which I have offered, for you shall find that they are quite unbiased in the knowledge they offer, unlike that which is offered to us all by Gjallarhorn. Until then, remain safe, and remain unclouded in your judgment, viewers." And with that, Solomon disappeared, leaving in their wake a black screen with their sigil emblazoned on it, slowly spinning in its own axis as code streaked down from it. Once that happened, Gaelio let out an aggravated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly.

"Finally, it's over. That almost took forever…" muttered the Bauduin heir with an annoyed tone. With his part said, he quickly spun around and walked out of the bridge, waving one hand dismissively over his shoulder. "I'll go catch some shut-eye… you'll be fine by yourself, right McGillis?"

"Of course," replied Fareed in return, though the moment his acquaintance exited the room, his smile fell in favor of a far more serious countenance, followed quickly by McGillis opening his personal pad and keying in the address for one of Solomon's databases.

If Gaelio would remain ignorant, then it would fall to McGillis to make use of the knowledge offered.

His goals demanded no hesitation or room for error, and if sacrifices had to be made along the way… then so be it.

-O-

As the radio died down, Serena slowly surveyed the dining area, taking in everyone's reaction to Solomon's words. As expected, the vast majority of the children looked bewildered or confused, a by-product of their complete lack of education. Others, likely the ones who had received at least some education or were sharp enough to understand what the masked figure's words meant, and judging by the looks that Biscuit and Orga were sporting, it was clear they were at least interested in what Solomon had to offer.

She did not bother with the adults from the First Group, since by and large they'd be out of the base once the change in management happened, but Serena did glance furtively at the cooking area… and, with a very much self-satisfactory grin, subtly motioned Argi and Liarina towards it as well.

After all, she would not want them to miss out on seeing the serious and supremely determined look on Kudelia's face.

The happiness of the moment was muddied, however, when a message arrived from Aria, and not moments later, Volco:: their destination had been found out.

Gjallarhorn would be coming.

"Finish it up, you two, we got a strategy meeting to go through," called out the ex-Diver as she pushed her food tray away, before briskly rising from her seat and nearly power walking back to the main building. Moments later, Argi and Liarina were after her, their own food forgotten as they braced themselves for whatever was to come.

-O-

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, IN-ORBIT AROUND MARS

"I went twice over the data, and it checked out: three Mobile Suits just left the Ares headquarters and set themselves on a drop course for the local Gjallarhorn garrison down in Chryse. We also got some hush-hush deployment of Mobile Workers, stated to be for a training exercise, but we all know that's a load of garbage."

As Volco read the tactical data sent to his pad, the Warren fugitive couldn't help but be impressed by how thorough it all was. His grievances and suspicions towards Serena not-withstanding, he had to admit that whatever system or computer she utilized to spy on Gjallarhorn was powerful indeed, especially if it could break into the satellites deployed around Mars' orbit, or even the communication systems the organization used on the ground.

Her comments about being unable to breach into the Earth-borne servers did not serve to diminish Volco's opinions in any way whatsoever: this woman was dangerous, and it would pay to keep an eye on her, regardless of how friendly she was being with them.

Still, she was on their side for now, so Warren would give her the benefit of the doubt.

Hence, their ongoing meeting.

"Assholes sure can work fast when they want to…" muttered the woman with a weary sigh as she massaged her eyes vigorously. Beside her sat Argi and Liarina, both just as serious as Serena, though it was clear Liarina had a tinge of nervousness to herself, what with the way she was slightly fidgeting. "Still… suppose it's better we deal with them now than later. Maruba hasn't even started packing for the trip, so we got all Mobile Workers down here."

"Why don't we bring the Astaroth down, then?" asked Argi aloud, and judging by his scowl, it was something he very much had thought about for a while. "If they're bringing Mobile Suits here, we need more firepower than this!"

"There's no way we can bring the Astaroth down stealthily, Argi," replied Volco in return, his expression as stony as always. "And if Gjallarhorn catches wind of the fact we have Mobile Suits of our own, then covert ops be damned, they'll send reinforcements."

"Not to mention we already have a Gundam down here, and a pilot who can handle controlling it," added Serena almost as an afterthought. "Trust me, I hate this as much as you do, but if we wanna catch these bastards by surprise, we have to play smart."

However, while Argi and Liarina seemed to have missed the first part of that statement, Volco did not, hence why his grip on his crutch grew tighter as he leveled a glare at Serena. "What do you mean, you already have a Gundam?"

If she was bothered by his expression, Serena did not let it show, the woman instead simply nodding and pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "That old fart Maruba dug up one of the frames here on Mars. ASW-G-08 Barbatos, to be precise. He rigged it up as the power source of this place, but it's still fully prepped to launch. I managed to sneak the Haros into the reactor room inside some crates, they've made all the adjustments and refueling the big boy needed to run, including a cockpit." With her part said, Serena allowed a second to pass, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Not exactly the best-case scenario, but still, it's a Mobile Suit we got."

It was only after a long, very much drawn-out moment of silence that Volco mustered up an answer to that.

Said answer was to run a hand over his face, and muffle out an annoyed groan from the depths of his cynical heart. "And you couldn't bring this information up before because…?"

"Wasn't really important 'til now."

"Of course…"

"Alright, focus, you two," called out Liarina, the young heiress shooting an almost pleading look at her old and new comrades. "We know Gjallarhorn's gonna hit the base, in terms of a fight we can work out something. But what about Maruba and the others? I've been keeping an eye on him, and no offense, he looks like he'd run the second someone tough comes knocking."

"You're not wrong," replied Serena, one hand bringing up a datapad to show to Liarina. "Maruba'll cut and run the second Gjallarhorn hits, and when he does, he'll take anything of value not nailed down in his office. Hell, knowing the asshole, he'll try and pull the accounts dry just to get an extra helping of cash for himself… no, we gotta cut him off here, before he runs with his stuff."

"What of the other members of CGS?" asked Nanao, the "maid" speaking up just as she entered the room carrying two trays of food atop her hands. "Can we trust the other adults and children to stand their ground?"

"The adults? Fuck no, they'll run too… but the kids will stay. This is… the only home they have. They're not giving it up without a fight, odds be damned."

There was a very clear tone of uncomfortableness in Serena's tone, made clearer still with how her posture sagged as she stared at something off-screen, most likely a door or related. It seemed to be a sentiment that Argi and Liarina alike shared with her, judging by their own expressions, and in the end Volco couldn't blame either of them. Just from the information the chip engraved in his brain gave him, the young Warren knew CGS wasn't exactly the cheeriest of places, so to see it up-close must have been even worse for the three, especially to Serena herself.

Still, they had a job to do, and it wouldn't pay to get distracted now.

"Alright, let's focus. What's the plan for when Gjallarhorn attacks?" asked Volco, and thankfully his words had the desired effect, Serena quickly sobering up and returning her attention back to him.

"Liarina will take some M-Dolls to confront Maruba and keep him from stealing all the assets, while Argi and another squad will keep Kudelia safe, just in case those assholes try to sneak commandos in or something."

"And you?"

When Serena didn't answer immediately, Volco worried that she might have had no idea.

He worried even more, however, when a downright scary grin spread across her face.

"I'll be… liberating some assets."

-O-

NIGHT TIME, CGS BASE…

Serena couldn't sleep. Even in her perfectly-quiet room, with not a single sound coming from outside, the ex-Diver could do little but sit fully awake on her bed, head resting atop her hands and one leg bouncing against the floor uncontrollably, wearing full combat gear and just waiting for the call to come in.

Anxiety over a coming battle will do that to you. Especially one like this.

This wouldn't be a GBN-style fight where Serena was backed by disposable NPCs, or players who could simply log back in after everything was finished, to trade banter with the "survivors". This would be Eldora all over again, except even worse, because this time, it wouldn't be just her or other Divers on the line. Kids, actual child soldiers would be in the thick of the combat zone, fighting, suffering… dying. And Serena couldn't do anything about it, bar everything she had already set up to help them.

Soon, she'd be wading through a battlefield of dead children… and the ex-Diver wasn't sure she was ready for it.

[Serena?] suddenly called out Aria through the commlink the oni Diver was wearing once more, her tone of voice devoid of any sarcasm and playfulness. [Are you… are you ready?]

Silence was all Serena could answer her companion with, because truthfully… she wasn't ready.

Sadly, the radar markers slowly approaching CGS' base made clear the decision had been made for her already.

"... Let's do this."

[... Right.]

So, with one last moment to get the trembling of her hands under control, Serena shot to her feet and exited her room as fast as she could, being joined not a moment later by two M-Doll soldiers who had been standing guard nearby, weapons already prepared for use. Fighting her nerves down, Serena reached for her commlink and tapped to switch frequencies, putting in instead the open one for her conspirators and remaining forces. "Heads up, they're coming," called out the ex-Diver with as firm a voice as she could manage. She ignored the sound of ruffling clothes and of people leaving their beds in a hurry, obviously Liarina and Argi, and instead continued her stride towards the hangar where her pilfered Mobile Worker resided in. "Argi, get Kudelia to safety. Hole up in the reactor room, and don't come out until I give you a call."

"Got it," replied the merc, his own tone far more solid than Serena's, a testament to the young man's life so far. "Give me five minutes."

"You got three."

"... Fine, three it is."

"Liarina, haul it to Maruba's office. The password for his safe will be with the Mobile Doll soldiers waiting for you. Don't worry about bank accounts, just make sure he can't take anything physical with him."

"Right… right, I'm on it."

As she crossed the archway of the door leading outside, Serena paid no mind to the fact Orga and Biscuit had been hanging out together at the top of the small wall bordering the building, or that they were staring at her the entire time she rushed to the hangar. She did, however, voice her next words as loudly as possible, just to make sure the two kids heard her nice and clear. "Jegan Team, Nemo Team, any signs of snipers?"

"AFFIRMATIVE. SNIPER TEAMS NOTED MOVING INTO POSITION."

"Counter-sniper, make sure they can't get a shot off, got it?!"

"ORDERS RECEIVED. EXECUTING."

Not a moment later, the sound of high-power sniper rounds tearing through the valley echoed across the base, purposefully so in fact, so the patrols would know what was happening. It also did good on getting Orga's attention, something Serena confirmed once she turned around and saw the perplexed look on his face. Yellow eyes met with fiery red ones, and in that almost infinitesimally small moment, Serena saw realization dawn on his face, enough that she felt comfortable leaving him behind to resume her march. Not a moment later, the sound of boots hitting the ground twice confirmed that the message was given, and the ex-Diver managed to harden her resolve as she saw flares rocket up towards the sky, bathing the coming battlefield with an almost ethereal silver glow. "Jesta Team, Efreet Team, lock down the underground tunnels. Kill anyone breaking in, no survivors."

"ACKNOWLEDGED."

[Serena, the Mobile Workers are on the move!] suddenly called out Aria with a hint of panic, and indeed, the radar showed that the many, many icons marking the approaching Gjallarhorn forces were taking up position at the ridges surrounding CGS' base, the best spot to launch saturation bombardments onto the PMC buildings… and, for the soon-to-be-very-unfortunate Gjallarhorn troops, the places Serena had also booby-trapped to absolute hell and back. [It's now or never!]

"It's now."

And so, as she entered the hangar where all her equipment had been stored towards her appropriated Mobile Worker, Serena withdrew a detonator from her ballistic vest, and after a single moment of hesitation, pulled its trigger.

A moment later, the valley behind her erupted in fire and noise, bringing dawn for a brief moment amidst the darkness covering Mars.

Not soon after, the rockets came raining down upon them.

The battle had officially begun.

-O-

The moment her room shook, Kudelia shot up from her bed in a panic, all sleep pushed away by adrenaline as she felt the rattling and tremors envelop her body. Trying to blink away the black spots in her vision, Kudelia caught sight of a dark-blue shape moving on the corner of the room, and which she only kept herself from panicking further at the sight of due to the subconscious parts of her brain remembering that could only be Fumitan, since the two were sharing the room in the base. "F-Fumitan?" asked Kudelia, the stutter on her tone wholly unfamiliar to the heiress as she steadied herself off the bed. "What's going on?!"

"Please stay here, miss Kudelia," immediately replied the aide, somehow already perfectly-dressed, and just steps away from the door leading out of their room. "I'll go check on the situation."

However, before Fumitan could move from where she stood, the door opened by itself, revealing a figure already waiting on the other side: one of their hired escorts, Argi Mirage, totting a shotgun and flanked by four of JSS' soldiers, who were equally as heavily armed as the young man. "Miss Kudelia, we have to move," he called out somewhat forcefully as he walked into the room and took a cursory glance around, before refocusing on Kudelia herself. "The base is under attack, we need to get you somewhere safe."

As if to punctuate that, another violent tremor shook the building, followed quickly by several dozen others that, while not as strong as the previous, were still enough to rattle the room for several seconds. Once it all subsided, however, a new sound could be heard faintly through the walls: weapon fire, and much, much closer than the explosions had been.

"C'mon, miss, we don't have much time!"

"Ah, r-right!"

However, just as she was about to move, Kudelia found herself halted by Fumitan's outstretched hand, the aide pinning Argi with her usual cold, calculated stare. "Where's Serena Durandal?"

"Went outside to coordinate the defense with CGS. She told me to take you two to the reactor room."

"... Very well. Lead the way."

"Alright, follow me."

And with that, the group took off further into the compound, doing their best to ignore the roars of the battlefield echoing around them all the way there…

-O-

Things were bad.

Things were going really, really bad.

Granted, Orga wouldn't be caught dead admitting to that, but he also knew how to keep himself a realist on the inside, and an optimist on the outside. And right now, the realist in him was fighting tooth and nail for a strategy that could help them survive this shit-show.

Of all the people to come knocking at their door, it had to be Gjallarhorn…

Thankfully, their surprise assault had been thoroughly ruined by that horned woman, Serena, apparently being more paranoid than Orga had ever expected someone to be. The sheer amount of explosives she had set up around the area was enough to boggle the Third Group leader's head, especially with how flippant she seemed to be in using them, but the young man would be loathe to admit that seeing them used didn't inspire a hell of a lot of hope in him.

But that had been at the start of things. Not long after, the surviving Mobile Workers started firing down on CGS' base, and the sheer volume of rockets made it clear that a LOT of MWs had survived the initial ambush detonation, far more than the still-deploying Third Group could fight by themselves feasibly. Compounding the problem was not only Haeda's skittishness when he talked about the First Group's plan to "perform a pincer attack", something Orga put zero faith in being true, but also Biscuit's warnings about picking up Ahab Waves from the direction of Gjallarhorn's forces, which considering their enemy was Gjallarhorn, could only mean one thing: Mobile Suits. And if there really were Mobile Suits here, then "fucked" didn't even begin to describe their possible situation.

For now, all he could do was hold the line. Mika, Akihiro and Shino's team had been pulled back for resupply already, and fresher pilots had taken their place on the gunline to relieve some of the pressure, but Gjallarhorn was still being relentless. Their Mobile Workers were racking up both damage and casualties fast, and the available cover was slowly starting to thin out with the continued bombardment. Something had to be done, and fast, or the holdout would soon turn into a rout. Orga did think of sending an extra gun or two to the field, but that idea had been quickly put to rest when he remembered that, for some reason, a Mobile Worker that should have been left over had instead been missing, much to his confusion, and the frustration of its intended pilot, Danji.

The question, however, was where had that Mobile Worker gone–

VRRRRRROOOOOOMMMMM!

"Heyo, Orga!"

… Ah. There it was.

Orga didn't react much outwardly, but the missing Mobile Worker rolling up next to his own machine, repainted red with yellow highlights, a slightly modified hull, and wholly different weapons instead of their common 30mm machineguns was definitely something he had not expected tonight.

Though the sight of the horned woman standing inside of its open hatch, just like Orga himself was doing in his own Mobile Worker, certainly served as an explanation for how it ended up like that.

"Hell of a fireworks show, eh?" she called out as her pilfered Mobile Worker came to a stop next to his. "Figures Gjallarhorn's got the money to spare wasting ammo."

"Something you got in common, then?" the Third Group's leader asked in return with a sideways glance and a smirk, something that the woman returned with a loud, barked laugh.

"Ha! Guess so! But you can't complain about the results, can ya?"

The woman suddenly stopped to listen to something on her headset with a quizzical look, only for a grin to split her face a second later, and for the woman to answer in turn with a somewhat hushed tone before returning her attention to Orga. "So, what's the current situation?" When his answer was to narrow his eyes and turn back to Gjallarhorn's advancing gunline, she gave a scoff of her own. "That bad?"

"Could be worse…"

"What, like if those Ahab Wave signatures started moving?"

The sheer casualness that the words were said with made Orga choke on his own spit, and made him turn around quickly to stare at the woman. And lo and behold, she was staring at him with naked steel, grin gone and replaced with a smile set in stone. "Yeah, I picked them up, too. Haven't moved in a while, lucky for us, means the commander's probably an idiot. But they probably won't stay that way for long."

"Hope you got a plan to help, then," said Orga, his teeth gritting against one another as he saw another heavily-battered Mobile Worker limp back to the relative safety of the main patio. "Any more surprises you got stashed away?"

This time, the woman gave a menacing chuckle, one hand drifting over a pocket in her tactical vest. "Oh, I have a few alright…" However, rather than withdrawing whatever was inside it, she instead turned her head to the side for a second, before lowering her hand once more. "But for now, I'll go with plan A."

And before Orga could question what "plan A" entailed, the woman disappeared into the Mobile Worker's cockpit, its engine roaring to life a moment later before the red machine shot forward.

A second later, Mika's white Worker and Akihiro's light blue machine thundered past, joining the red machine on its charge against Gjallarhorn's advancing Mobile Workers.

-O-

Mobile Workers were pieces of shit. It was an opinion Serena had solidified quite thoroughly throughout her years as both a solo Diver and a for-hire informant, and oh could she list the reasons she hated the damned things so much…

Inadequate weapons, subpar armor plating, an absolutely abhorrent suspension system, lack of any ejection system…

But primarily? She hated, loathed and SEETHED at how CRAMPED the cockpit was. Even with the modified hull to fit all seven feet of built woman that she now was, Serena felt her arms bump against the walls of the cockpit.

Those feelings were only reinforced further when Serena's hijacked vehicle bounced off a particularly solid rock, and not only almost made her hit her head against the low-clearance hatch, but also flopped her breasts like beanbags in front of her.

"Goddamn–FUCK!" snarled the ex-Diver, anger rolling over in equal measures as the Permet markings flaring all over her skin. "I thought you said you tuned this thing up!"

[Just because I did doesn't mean I can work miracles!] shouted back Aria, the AI's voice thankfully still audible even over the rumbling of the Mobile Worker's engine, and the cacophony of battle echoing through the hull.

"Of course you can, that's the fucking point of me asking!"

[Yeah, well, this thing's suspension drive is still dogshit, I did the best I could!]

Before she could give another retort, Serena was forced to jerk her machine out of the way of a high-velocity slug that had been aimed straight at her, leaving the round to slam harmlessly against the soil behind her. "Rrrgh… fine, then! Guess I'll just work out some PENT-UP STRESS!"

Gunning the joysticks forward, Serena forced her Mobile Worker to break off from Mika and Akihiro, both boys instead veering towards another group of Gjallarhorn Mobile Workers who were closing in on the Third Group's gunline, leaving Serena free to charge the smaller group who was now trying to pincer Shino's group, and was too busy gunning for the massed MWs that they had no time to maneuver to face the much speedier red Mobile Worker coming for them.

In a single breath, Serena switched the lock on, targeted the closest MW, and fired. A tight burst of 60mm rounds punched straight through the lower plating of the closest Gjallarhorn machine, rattling it before the ammunition inside cooked and detonated. The resulting deadweight sloughed just quickly enough to make the Mobile Worker behind the first crash against the wreck, and to Serena's glee, forced the remaining MWs to break formation lest they cause a pile up.

And thus, a nice, wide gap was formed between the remaining machines, one that Serena immediately gunned for and made herself comfortable in.

The biggest con with Gjallarhorn's "bigger is better" mentality regarding their Mobile Workers? Their size and mass made them completely unwieldy when facing opponents at close range who could outmaneuver their main guns, and the underslung chaingun had no hope of punching through armor, even in close proximities. Conversely, at such neck-breathing distance, even the 30mm machineguns of the CGS machines could reliably damage the armor on a Gjallarhorn MW, especially since they could be aimed at weak spots quicker and easier.

So when Serena let loose further rounds of her 60mm guns, at near-point blank, too, the larger Workers had no chance against her.

Like a maddened ballerina, the ex-Diver twirled and danced her Mobile Worker all around the Gjallarhorn machines, squeezing out burst after burst against the maroon MWs and goring their cockpits or ammo depots with pinpoint accuracy, leaving them wafting smoke and flames from all the extra holes punched into their armor. And by the time she broke off from the group, a maddened grin on her face and her eyes flashing gold, Serena could feel her blood roaring in her veins.

It was at that moment that something just… clicked.

She couldn't exactly explain what had happened at that moment, but the moment she turned her Mobile Worker around to face her next target, Serena fell into a sort of… trance, one that she had no active control over, but that she apparently could properly react to things while under just as well… Perhaps even a little too well.

Whenever a Gjallarhorn machine tried to aim at her Mobile Worker, Serena would already be on the move, faster than they could even bring their gun to bear, while already-flying rounds would be circumvented like they were flies. In return, every shot she took was deadly accurate, downright supernaturally so: they'd strike weak points, joints, one even managed to collide with a slug right as it got fired and detonate it mid-air, coating the Gjallarhorn Mobile Worker that had shot it with a cloud of smoke thick enough that it couldn't see the burst of 60mm shots coming until it was too late.

And throughout it all, Serena felt… good. Great, AMAZING, even! Euphoria flooded her every inch, her senses stretching out farther than they ever did and letting Serena feel the world in a way she never did before: the rumbling of Mika and Akihiro's Mobile Workers as they danced around Gjallarhorn's machines, thoroughly humiliating the military pilots; the shells and missiles whizzing around over the air, striking rock or metal not moments later, the shouts and screams of the Third Group kids, one of them only having a second to register the subsonic metal punching through his Mobile Worker's hull before it hit his body–

[ …-RENA!]

"G-GAH!"

And suddenly, the world came back to normal.

Serena's breath was like a hurricane against her ears, sweat outright steaming off her body with how hot the Permet markings were running (how were they doing that, they were just cosmetics!), and only avoiding hazing up the cockpit due to the ventilation units working overtime, while the readouts flashed warnings of excess stress on the Mobile Worker's suspension and drive.

And if the outside cameras were working properly, she had moved all the way back to the CGS gunline, and parked her Mobile Worker just shy of Shino's group, the torn-up ground in front of her making clear her arrival hadn't been exactly gentle, and a clear view of the many Gjallarhorn Mobile Workers she, Mika and Akihiro had downed.

But most importantly of all, Serena could see Aria displayed in one of the screens, looking more frazzled than the ex-Diver had ever seen the AI be like, and with worry clear in her eyes. [Serena, are you alright?!]

"I… I think so… What… what happened…?"

[I-I don't know, your vitals went fucking insane, and no matter how much I tried to get your attention you just…!]

"I just what, Aria?" asked Serena somewhat more forcefully, hints of her suppressed panic now starting to bubble to the surface with how skittish her friend was acting, especially when the AI actively looked away from her. "What did I do?"

For a moment, Aria still seemed unwilling to talk, until finally she opened her mouth…

"Are you okay?"

That is, before a new voice cut in through the comms: Mika's.

Casting one last glance at Aria, who promptly winked out of view on the screen, Serena instead switched the frequency of her comms to match that of the young boy, then adjusted her headset to make sure she wasn't yelling into his ear. "Yeah, just peachy. You?"

"Fine, too," was Mikazuki's equally blase reply, though Serena could catch a hint of irritation to his tone that was so subtle, one could have mistaken it for tiredness. "Thanks for the help."

"Hey, I'm not about to leave you kids hanging out here!" the ex-Diver barked back half-jokingly, even as she went through some quick diagnostics on her Mobile Worker's integrity and remaining ammo. "Speaking of which, you still with us, Akihiro?"

"I'm not about to croak that easy," replied the muscled teen with his usual gruffness in turn. "Still a lot of them left, though…"

And indeed, one could easily see that even after the trio's little rampage across their ranks, Gjallarhorn still had quite a few Mobile Workers left to spare. Not many, granted, but enough that they could still make a push towards CGS' base. With that in mind, Serena let out a scoff, then turned her head back towards the base. "I take it this is the part where you show some brilliant plan you got up your sleeve, Itsuka!"

Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

"... Well then, asked and answered."

True, Serena knew that Orga and Biscuit had arranged for a box of remote-triggered flares to be set off once they had found out the First Group was trying to escape through the rear, but at the same time, the universe's sense of timing and comedy still seemed to be completely on point, if it managed to happen right after she called Orga out on if he had a plan.

Maybe the rule of drama was an actual thing that existed…

And, just as expected, Gjallarhorn's forces split themselves further apart, with even some of the Mobile Workers on overwatch on the ridges abandoning their position to move towards where the flares had been fired from.

"Hey, the enemy's moving!" suddenly called out Norba, even as he climbed out of his Mobile Worker to better watch, now that the bullets and rockets had finally stopped flying.

"I bet," replied Orga, his own tone of voice now far more confident than before. "If I'm reading the situation correctly, they're not going to let anyone escape."

"Glad the First Group decided to pull some of the pressure off of us, then. Pretty altruistic stuff coming from them."

"Sure is, isn't it?"

Chuckling, Serena palmed her second-to-last detonator, carefully setting and resetting the safety mechanism as she pondered putting it to use. Sure, with so few Mobile Workers left, even the First Group's forces could fight them off, plus the Mobile Suit team had yet to move in, so her last surprise could do well in being saved.

On the other hand… it would be one hell of a black eye for Gjallarhorn if none of their Mobile Workers came back from this.

It took a second for Serena to register that thought, and it made her pause her fiddling to process it.

Wait, what the hell? Where did that come from?

Sadly, she would not be allowed to dwell on such thoughts. One moment, Aria was back on the screen.

[Serena–!]

The next…

BOOOOOOM!

An explosion, far larger than any other caused by Mobile Worker fire to this point, scattered a swath of the First Group's convoy and blasted the ground they had been atop of to smithereens. Seconds later, while the Third Group kids shouted and asked what was happening, another blast went off, this time amidst the gathered gun line, rocking their Mobile Workers something fierce and obscuring their view with a cloud of debris and dust.

And amidst the panicked radio chatter of the Third Group's members, Serena stared ahead as the dust cleared. And she could feel her stomach tying itself into knots as she watched the towering form of an EB-06s Graze Commander Type land amidst the wrecked battlefield, kicking aside a fallen Mobile Worker and only barely missing a lucky Third Group survivor who had just left his wrecked vehicle.

"Why is it taking so long to neutralize such a facility?" echoed a haughty, condescending, and most of all, infuriating voice across the entire battlefield, one that made Serena's blood pressure spike a notch or three. "All Mobile Workers will get a pay cut!"

Were it not for her forewarning on it, Serena probably would have felt an even worse panic at the sight of three more Grazes, Standard Types this time, jumping over to stand beside the Commander Type, as opposed to the canon timeline's two. As it were, however, things were still mostly on-script with the intel she had gathered to this point. All she had to do now was go with the plan… and pray it didn't get her killed.

"No way. We can't win against Mobile Suits…"

"What are we gonna do, then?"

"We… we gotta run…"

"Where to?"

The fact the radio continued to pick up the chatter of all the other kids, who were (rightfully so) beginning to panic at the sight of the four impossible opponents standing in front of them, only served as a further motivator for her nerves to fray.

…

And yet…

Even with all that, even with the deck clearly stacked against them, facing what could very well be the first of many hurdles along the way, Serena couldn't help but feel… relief.

Because when she had jumped inside the Mobile Worker, and rushed to the battlefield to help these kids survive the night, Serena knew she should have been afraid. It would have been perfectly natural, considering she had just dived into a life-or-death battlefield where a single mistake could have, and still could, cost her life. It was Eldora all over again, except this time she had even less support, and a comparatively more ruthless enemy. Frankly, the odds weren't exactly favorable, nor encouraging.

But right now, hearing the children being just as afraid as she should have been… it felt like a weight had been removed from Serena's shoulders. Because it proved she wasn't alone out there, weathering the storm by herself. There were people with her, people who were just as afraid as she was of losing their lives uselessly. And just like her, they would fight, struggle, squirm and scream for their lives… and they would win.

"That's right. There's no place to run. There never was."

But if there was one thing that truly cemented that feeling on her heart, it was the sound of Orga's blatantly confident tone as he rose to stand atop his own Mobile Worker, proudly and defiantly against the foes in front of him.

And if a kid could be unafraid of these things, well, then why the hell couldn't she?

"… Yeah… I guess you're right, ain't ya, kid?" said Serena softly, one hand slowly but firmly gripping her Mobile Worker's control levers as a calm smile spread across her face, while the other withdrew. "Only way we got is forward."

"Suppose that means you got a plan, then?" asked the young man back, with an almost expecting tone of voice.

"You could say that."

And as she eyed the Grazes, still standing there menacingly while Orlis no doubt mouthed off to Crank over the mission, Serena undid the safety on the detonator one last time, and recalled the words of a certain red-haired, mass-murdering psychopath she was about to crib a plan from, before promptly pulling the trigger while grinning victoriously. "And out of nowhere!"

The moment the trigger was pulled, her last, but best surprise was triggered: twenty-four separate missile launchers, all mounted across the outermost perimeter of the valley, fired their payloads at the sky. Each launcher was loaded with a missile warhead carrying thirty-six cluster munitions.

Thus, when the in-flight missiles opened up and released their payloads down onto the four standing Grazes, eight-hundred-and-sixty-four cluster munitions rained upon the Gjallarhorn mobile suits, like the world's most dangerous hail storm.

The resulting blast was, to put it mildly…

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

Quite apocalyptic. The ensuing blast cloud was large enough to encompass all four Grazes, and bury them under a fireball that, were it not for their Nanolaminate Armor, would have melted straight down to the frame. As it were, however, the most it could do was rattle the pilots around, and blind them temporarily. Even the rifles the Grazes were holding seemed to escape destruction, no doubt due to a reinforced construction, and to be fair, the submunitions had been loaded for maximum flash and fire, not penetration.

Moments later, the missiles themselves landed against the ground, and detonated. However, whereas their submunitions were packed with explosives, the missiles had been prepped instead with a payload that Serena knew Orga would become quite accustomed to deploying in due time.

Such was the case now, as well, when the twenty-four warheads coated a large swath of the battlefield in the thick, shining pink cloud of nano mirror chaff, several sparkling spots easily visible even while under the breaking light of dawn.

Rattled, blind, and unable to contact one another. The Grazes were now almost perfect sitting ducks, in a sense, even if they could still kill Serena with barely any effort if they saw her coming.

Which only made the next step of her plan even crazier-sounding, even to her. "Now or never…!"

And with as much force as she could, Serena stomped down on the gas, and sent her Mobile Worker rocketing forward like a bat out of hell into the cloud of chaff.

-O-

As he watched the woman charge into what could very well be her own death, Orga could do little more than grit his teeth and clench his fists…

…

"Orga."

That is, until a voice sounded near him. A familiar voice.

"Mika?"

"… I have an idea."

-O-

The moment she broke into the nano mirror chaff cloud, all of the electronics aboard Serena's Mobile Worker went on the fritz, including her communications equipment. This, of course, killed her connection to Aria instantly, leaving the ex-Diver all alone inside her rattling armored coffin of a vehicle. Worst, she couldn't even confirm the position of the Grazes on her radar, and the cameras, while still operational, had enough static over them that the image they displayed was like staring at an active blender.

"Why did I think this was a good idea, dammit!" snarled Serena as she sped through the cloud of chaff, the Mobile Worker's wheels bouncing roughly against the cratered soil that had been made even worse by the… enthusiastic bombardment Serena had put the area through. "Of all the harebrained, dumbfuck–!"

BOOM!

"-MOTHERFUCKER–!"

And of course, to make matters worse, it seemed either Orlis or someone else had decided to hell with waiting, and instead were blind-firing into the cloud for any chance they could take to net an extra kill.

Pros, blind-firing meant their accuracy was shit. Cons…

BOOM!

Well, she couldn't see where they were aiming, either.

Snarling, and ignoring the thumping of her heart inside her chest, Serena did her best to try and weave around with her Mobile Worker, the periodic explosions from the 110mm rifle rounds impacting around her jostling her out of her path as, against all rationale, she charged straight ahead to where the rounds were coming from.

…?!

Suddenly, Serena felt… something. She couldn't find the words to quite describe it, but whatever it was, it prompted her to suddenly jerk the control levers as hard as she could to the right.

Turns out, that had been the best call to make: the literal second she was out of the way, a rifle round zoomed past the space her Mobile Worker had been occupying just prior, missing the smaller machine by the slimmest of margins.

Unfortunately, while the round thankfully missed, it still had dire consequences to the abused Mobile Worker: the sudden dodge sent it careening into a particularly-deep crater, and its suspension system, already overly abused, finally gave up the ghost, shattering beneath the Mobile Worker's weight.

KE-RASH!

"FUCK!"

And when it did, it sent the whole chassis skidding across the ground, pieces of it coming loose as it went forward, including one of the guns when it bounced against a jutting piece of rock. Inside the cockpit, Serena was jostled around like a bobblehead, her head cracking against one of the side screens, and forcing a cry of pain from the ex-Diver. The blow caused both a significant gash on her temple, and one right below one of her horns, blood quickly spraying out from both cuts and cascading down her face, and forcing one eye closed… at least momentarily.

As soon as the wreck stopped moving, Serena pushed herself off the seat with a snarl, her free hand rubbing the blood off her eye while the cuts slowly mended themselves shut.

It was the first time she had ever needed to use her Neos regeneration since getting to Mars, and she could say at least that the sensation was… interesting. There wasn't any pain from feeling the flesh stitching itself together, though Serena could definitely feel the wound bubbling and fizzing away, until not even a hint of a scar had been left. Still, it was good to confirm at least that her regenerative powers were still quite active, not just her machine interface trait. It meant she could be a tad more reckless with her maneuvers.

Case in point, her newly-reformulated plan.

Once she was sure the wounds were closed up, Serena put both hands on the cockpit's hatch, and pushed, her muscles straining against the jammed piece of metal. "C'mon, you fucking thing…" snarled the oni, her teeth grit and her body slowly coming alight once more. "I ain't dying… because of a damn… stuck… HATCH!"

Finally, with one last mighty push, Serena threw the cockpit hatch open, allowing her to quickly heave her way out of the wrecked Mobile Worker. As soon as she pulled herself clear, the oni threw herself to the ground and rolled to her feet, one hand taking hold of a flashbang she had strapped to her vest, the other going for the grappling pistol holstered on her hip. Ahead, she could see two Grazes, one much closer than the other, though the chaff fog made it hard to tell if it was Orlis' machine, or one of the Standard Types. Regardless, on foot as she was, the one closest would have to do, so with zero hesitation Serena took off running towards the Mobile Suit. Right as she was close enough to execute her hare-brained (and stolen) plan, she saw the Graze's head turn towards her, its optic still shielded behind the armored sensor. It slowly brought its rifle to bear…

"If this works, I'll believe in God!"

And with those ironically-echoed words, Serena wound her arm back, and threw the flashbang towards the Graze, just as she took off running once more. A second later, the grenade went off, forming a brilliant ball of blinding light and sound that failed to affect Serena only due to her headset still being on, polarized visor and everything. The Graze's pilot, however, was definitely affected, since the machine jerked away from the light, one hand rising to cover the main camera.

That was the opening Serena needed. Once she was right at the Graze's feet, she aimed the grappling gun up to its torso, and fired. The hook flew for only a few seconds before it clamped down onto one of its chest plates, with the line itself growing taut before Serena triggered the reeling mechanism. The sheer acceleration yanked hard on her shoulder, but the ex-Diver held firm thanks to her body's insane strength, and in a matter of moments, Serena found herself propped up against the Graze's chest, one hand gripped tightly around the rope, while the other reached for the cockpit's emergency release lever, and a feral grin threatened to split her face in two. "Heh… hell, guess I believe in God, now…"

Serena then twisted the lever, and quickly unholstered her sidearm as the cockpit hatch swung open with a hiss. She took aim inside the cockpit…

-O-

There weren't many more ways things could have gone wrong, Crank Zent thought as he boosted his Graze out of the cloud of chaff, which had thankfully already begun to disperse under the onslaught of the heavy Martian winds. Their Mobile Worker forces had suffered heavy losses from the opening bombing and subsequent firefight, their sniper units had been wiped out by surprise counter sniper fire that had started before the soldiers could get even a single shot out, and now their Mobile Suits had charged headlong into what was clearly an enemy trap with no regard for a plan.

Honestly, what had Coral been thinking, putting the operation under the command of Orlis, of all people? Had the captain sent in their Mobile Suit forces sooner, then they wouldn't have suffered nearly as many casualties, and Kudelia would perhaps already be under their custody…

His pondering regarding his former student's qualifications were interrupted, however, when a second Mobile Suit leapt back out from within the cloud of chaff, and another voice cut in through the radio, one he had only recently become acquainted with.

"L-Lieutenant Crank!" cried out Ein Dalton, the young man's Graze landing somewhat awkwardly but thankfully still upright beside Crank's own unit. "Captain Orlis, he—"

"I'm aware, Ein," quickly interrupted Crank, his eyes scanning through the still-present smoke in search of his former student. "The enemy could be attempting some kind of ambush, however. Be at the ready."

Not to mention that Ensign Morris was also still within the cloud alongside Orlis. Crank could understand if Stenja was stubborn enough to stay in there to try and shoot down more Mobile Workers, but Morris was smarter than that. The young man had gotten stellar recommendations from the garrison's training personnel, and had shown himself to be a competent, level-headed officer… something Crank wished Orlis could be like.

Suddenly, another Graze jumped out of the chaff cloud, and this time, it was Orlis' machine. "Impudent little pests!" growled the captain, even as his Mobile Suit skipped a few steps on the landing. "Resorting to dirty tricks like the rats they are!"

"Orlis, where's Ensign Morris?" asked Crank, only to receive a scoff in return.

"What does it matter? If he can't handle something this trivial, he has no right to be a Mobile Suit pilot."

The comment once more made Crank's anger grow, but like minutes prior when Orlis dismissed his concerns over actually capturing their target instead of wasting time fighting a protracted battle, the old veteran did his best to stamp his feelings under control. Just a bit longer… just a bit longer, and he'd finally be able to put this disastrous mission to rest…

It was in the midst of all this musing and hoping that Crank finally saw Morris' machine boost out of the cloud as well, right as the pink mist finally began to truly subside, and allowed the four Grazes to properly reunite once more. Already, Crank could see the Mobile Workers shifting into fighting positions, no doubt to try some sort of last stand, though in particular, Crank took note of the red Mobile Worker lying broken on the ground, its hatch open…

But with no body visible. Not even a damaged hole.

While Crank was stuck in his musings, and Orlis rattled off insults at the last-arrived Graze through their radio, Ein moved his own machine closer to Morris' Mobile Suit, and placed one hand on its fellow Graze's shoulder. "Ensign Morris, are you okay?" asked the young Dalton, concern clear in his tone.

It was while the strangely still-unresponsive Graze turned its head toward Ein's machine, that two realizations struck Crank with all the force of a cannonball.

One, that Morris would never maintain radio silence for this long.

Two, and most damning of all, Crank saw the uniformed corpse of Ensign Adam Morris, lying in a heap on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood.

And in those brief, almost infinitesimal moments that the information took to be processed by his brain, Crank's instincts flared to life as his blood ran deathly cold.

"EIN, GET BACK!"

His warning, however, would be just too little, too late.

The second, the literal second the man shouted—nay, screamed his orders, Morris' Graze spun with a speed and skill Crank knew his student would never be capable of, and swung its ax at Ein's Mobile Suit, the attack catching the young pilot completely off-guard and leaving the blade free to bury itself violently through the Graze's armpit,outright amputating the entire limb off.

"A-Argh!"

"What the–!"

"Ein, NO!"

As Ein's Graze fell to the ground, Crank rushed to his aid, Orlis already opening fire with his rifle at the rogue Gjallarhorn machine, who, in yet another display of skill Crank had never seen a pilot perform, spun around and threw its ax at Crank, who was forced to halt his charge to desperately intercept the thrown weapon that came dangerously close to slamming blade-first against his Mobile Suit's torso. The stolen Graze then crouched down, and while firing pot shots of its rifle at Orlis, took the ax from Ein's prone machine, then leapt back with a boost-assisted jump, landing upon one knee on the hill leading to the mercenary base. Its head then opened up to reveal the spherical sensor underneath, which quickly began flitting between the three remaining Grazes before its head plate closed once more as the machine rose to its full height, rifle and ax held loose at its sides, while all around the mercenary Mobile Workers began dashing to as safe a distance as possible from the Mobile Suits.

"What's the meaning of this, who's controlling that Graze?!" shouted Orlis, the man downright furious as he took aim with his rifle at the hijacked machine.

"Sorry to disappoint, but the dear ensign's taken a permanent leave of absence from the world of the living," replied the hijacker, an adult woman judging from the voice which was dripping with contempt. "I'm sure you can grab his corpse off the ground over there, bring it back along with the others."

"Insolent wretch!"

As much as he wished to get answers from the unknown killer, however, Crank had more pressing priorities to attend to. So without further ado, the man rushed to where Ein's fallen machine laid, quickly crouching his own Graze closer to it before carefully lifting the prone Mobile Suit up. "Ein, can you hear me?"

For a moment, no response sounded from the radio, which only made Crank's panic rise further. Thankfully, however, the sound of hacking coughs and a groan of pain echoed through the speaker, which while not ideal, filled Crank with relief, before a small video image opened to the side of his viewscreen, revealing in it the clearly shook-up but still very much alive Ein Dalton, who winced as he held his likely injured torso. "L-Lieutenant… Crank…?" asked the young man weakly, his tone making clear the amount of pain he was in.

"I'm here, Ein, don't worry," replied the older pilot, his tone carrying as much care as possible towards the young man. "Can you move?"

"B-Barely… I think my ribs are broken, can't… move my arm properly—G-Ghack!"

"That's enough, lieutenant, stand down," said Crank as he watched Ein hack up another coughing fit, a few droplets of blood flying from the young man's mouth at the last second. "Leave this fight to us."

"But lieutenant-!"

"That's an order, Ein!"

With his parting words said, Crank raised his Graze back to its full height and readied his weapons, preparing himself for the fight to come.

Before he could think of any approach strategy, however, Crank watched as Orlis discarded his rifle and readied his own ax, before quickly charging at the stolen Graze. "You will pay for your insolence!"

However, while Orlis's charge was strengthened by the fact that he was using all his Graze's boosters to push forward, his actual strike was sloppy at best, likely because of anger clouding his actions. As such, when the captain swung his ax down in a devastating chop, all the stolen Graze had to do to dodge the blow was boost to the side, letting Orlis's attack to whiff harmlessly where the hijacked machine once stood, only narrowly missing getting stuck on the ground, though the blade still raised a cloud of dust when it scrapped against the soil. Rather than retaliating, however, the woman chose instead to simply stop and stare at Orlis's machine, going so far as to holster its rifle to the back of its waist before switching its ax from one hand to the other, calmly twirling it around in a motion that made Crank aware of how dexterous this woman was when piloting a Mobile Suit.

"Murderer? That's rich, coming from you," she said venomously, motioning to the battlefield that surrounded them with her Graze's free hand. "You're leaving just as many corpses as me, but you call me a murderer? What, did all your lobster blood make you blind and stupid?"

"Orlis, stay sharp, she's trying to draw you in!"

Sadly, Crank's warning fell upon deaf ears, and Orlis once more charged against the stolen Graze. This time, however, the woman saw fit to block the attack head-on, her ax clashing with Orlis's own as both Mobile Suits pushed against one another with all the strength their frames could afford, sparks flying as the blades and hafts ground against one another in the struggle. "What would a Martian rat like you know! You're nothing but a hired gun, working for the highest bidder! You are just trash, to be stamped out by us!"

"And you're nothing more than some inbred aristocrat!" countered the woman, her calm now discarded in exchange for a fervor Crank had seldom seen in a person. "All of you, Gjallarhorn scum, lording over others like the world was made to be your plaything!" With a flare of its boosters, the woman's stolen Graze pushed forward and drove one of its knees into the torso of Orlis's machine, staggering just long enough for the woman to (to Crank's utter bafflement), perform a boosted spin kick against Orlis, sending his Graze tumbling down the hill while she boost-jumped further away atop the hill, landing onto a crouch and staring defiantly at Orlis as the man attempted to recover from the bizarre blow. "Don't go thinking you're God! You're nothing but trash sitting atop a pile of corpses!"

The snarl that came from Orlis's throat sounded anything but natural, and served as a clear sign of how far gone the man seemed to be. "Martian trash! I'll wipe you off the face of this planet! You, and every other mercenary in this base, I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"

Once more Crank readied himself to enter the fray…

"That's where you're wrong."

Just as he did, however, another voice echoed across the battlefield: this time a male one, far calmer and more composed, but no less confident or defiant. And after a second to track down its source, Crank finally spotted it, standing atop a mercenary Mobile Worker and glaring daggers at him and Orlis.

… It… it was a young man.

… No… It was a child.

"Dying here? As if," continued the young man, uncaring of the fact Orlis had now turned his attention squarely at him. "I'm not dying here. None of us are."

With a scream of anger, Orlis fired off all of his Graze's boosters one more time and jumped straight into the air.

"We'll never die. Not like this."

The Mobile Suit reared its arm back, ax poised and ready to strike down the tiny Mobile Worker staring it down.

"Not here. It can't end here."

"DIE, MARTIAN SCUM!"

At that moment, an alarm went off inside the cockpit of all four Grazes.

An alarm that was ignored by Orlis, missed by Ein, made Crank's eyes widen, and caused Serena to grin like an animal.

"It can't end here!"

"ORLIS!"

"Ain't that right…"

CAUTION

AHAB WAVE DETECTED

…

"MIKA!"

The hillside exploded in dust and debris, kicking up a gigantic brown cloud that enveloped both Orlis's Graze and the Mobile Worker it was aiming for.

Yet, none could have missed the giant moving inside the cloud.

Not as it slammed one foot down to pulverize the ground beneath it, twisting its entire body as it reared to swing a massive, flanged mace at the still airborne Graze.

And not as, with strength powerful enough to rend the earth itself, the white Mobile Suit swung the mace forward, crumpling the Graze's entire torso into so much scrap metal, tearing its head off on impact before finishing the swing and smashing the Gjallarhorn MS onto the ground, ruining whatever was left of its torso.

-O-

"Hey… what should I do next, Orga?"

…

"It's obvious, ain't it?"

"Huh?"

"We are going."

"To where?"

"Somewhere not here."

…

"To the place where we truly belong."

-O-

And inside the Barbatos' cockpit, even as blood ran freely from his nose and eyes… Mikazuki Augus smiled.

"… Yes… Let's go… All of us…"

"… Together."

~O~

This rewrite absolutely kicked my ass.

Not only because I had to do the chapter almost from the ground up (this rewrite actually ended up BIGGER than the OG, with 20k words VS the original's 17k), but also because midway through it, I had a fucking meltdown that annihilated my desire to write, and set me back for a long time.

Nevertheless, it is finally fucking here: the full rewrite of the fourth chapter.

Now only need to get through chapter 5 (hopefully not as much of a hassle as 4), and we'll be back in business.

After chapter 6, I'll go back to Special Delivery to the Frontier once more. Ever since the MtG Fallout cards were launched, I've been itching to write a bit more about the Courier and her escapades across the Frontier.

Also, a couple of news I should share.

One of them is related to Special Delivery to the Frontier: I finally went and properly updated the writing docs for the story, both by doing what few rewrites needed to be done (namely dialogue that was too stilted/unnatural, and some scenes that needed some reworking), and by updating them to match the Courier's character sheet in terms of perks, equipment and so on. These versions have been posted to all the writing places I post to, so now everything should be nice and proper.

The second bit of news is that, come this month, I've decided to close down my Pa-tre-on for the foreseeable future. The reason for it is simple: in its two and a half years of existence, there was no active growth with it, plus I've never had much to offer with it in the first place… which means people weren't putting enough faith in my work, hence the decision. It doesn't help that I was unable to deliver much art as I wished to with the money I made with the Pa-tre-on, so it failed its stated goal as well.

Maybe someday I'll reopen it again, when interest in my stories gets stronger, but for now, this is the path I'm taking.

Until next time, fellas, stay strong.