Fuck, what time is it?

She was in the middle of a good dream for once. Something about a field and her wife in overalls, hard to remember the specifics, but fuck, she looked smoking hot in just those overalls. Mm, someday soon that’ll be real. And that’ll be great.

With a groan, she rubs the crust from her eyes and unbuckles her jumpseat harness. The cargo bay is bathed in a green light while mechanics work on two large mechs across from her. They’re probably saying something to her but she has headphones in. Helps her sleep on these flights without the engine noise getting in the way.

Climbing up the stairs onto the forward upper deck, she yawns and stretches, smelling the coffee in the air. Fuck, that smells good. First things first though, she walks into the galley bathroom and splashes water on her face while staring into the mirror.

Fuck, you look like shit Juniper Sladek.

Honestly, she’s not that much of a looker. Dirty blonde hair that’s shorter on the sides due to them previously being shaved; it’s getting a little long in the back too, might need to get it trimmed the next time there’s a barber around. With a shrug, her headphones drape across her neck. They’re quiet now but she had a good playlist to help her sleep. Last song she remembers before passing out was familiar, but she can’t remember why.

Eh, whatever.

She traces a finger over the five golden stars that drape across her collarbone. Each one represents her own personal running kill tally. Sure, her kill count is more than twenty-five, but these are the ones she chose to represent. Easier than remembering some random number.

With an idle hum she continues clearing the sleep from her face, stretching much wider this time. Ugh, she wishes her body would let her sleep more than a few hours. No rest for the wicked though. Whatever that song was, it’s stuck in her head. It was an instrumental piece, that much she remembers. Probably something metal?

Her hazel eyes share the same feeling as the rest of her body: a look of “kill me or give me strong liquor.” Fuck, she needs to stop sleeping down in the cargo bay, it’s too cold in there even with her bomber jacket on. Around her neck a chain holds up a dog tag which is carefully straightened.

A nice little reminder of who Juniper’s heart belongs to: Laila Praxian.

Only damn person who can put up with Juniper’s bullshit and not want to strangle her. They’ve been together going on three years now, and in that time, shit’s gotten worse for them both.

Fighting a seemingly never ending war against an Empire that never seems to quit, it’s rough on the spirit. Almost two years ago, her best friend and fellow Wardog, Eris Peray, died fighting the bastards back. It was after a particularly harrowing mission: They had barely made it back to base when a raiding party hit them hard. Eris died defending the evacuation effort.

Wardog used to be five pilots, but by the time Juniper joined it was only the three of them against the world. Now, it’s just the two of them, fighting against a world that’s taken so much from them.

She kisses her dog tags and rests them against her heart. In lieu of rings, Juniper and Laila exchanged dog tags, promising to ditch them when the day came that they could finally quit. It’s corny, but it’s the little things in life that keeps the two of them going.

A knock at the door comes just as expected. “June, that you?” The beautiful, gorgeous wife herself.

“Yeah, Lails, it’s me. Just had to make myself look beautiful before I graced you with my presence.” Juniper laughs and opens the door, immediately pulling her wife into an embrace.

Laila Praxian, her wife, the light of her life. A tall, dark-skinned woman whose fire red hair rests neatly over her left eye, barely concealing a scar beneath it. She’s clad in a similar outfit to Juniper; a black bomber jacket full of patches, save for a tan t-shirt instead of tank top. Laila is also the leader of Wardog Squadron and in effect, Juniper’s commanding officer. Technically speaking. The ranks are meaningless for rebels, but they tend to follow some rigidity of the military; helps to keep order.

What’s the difference between a Captain and Lieutenant? Who the fuck knows, they sure as shit don’t salute.

“Morning, Lieutenant Sladek” Laila grins, breaking the embrace to kiss Juniper’s cheek.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Fuck off, Captain Praxian.”

“Is that any way to talk to your captain? Maybe I should have you court martialed for that attitude.” It’s too much, they both burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves. “How’d you sleep, Junebug?”

Juniper shrugs. “Like total shit, but eh, to be expected from these old cargo planes, right?”

They walk into the galley, where Laila hands her a mug of coffee. “Well, it’s not all bad. I’ve got you some coffee. The good stuff this time, not the ration shit.”

“Damn Lails, how’d you manage that?” Juniper sips her cup and sits down across from her wife in a set of chairs.

“Helps to make friends, Junebug. Something you don’t know about.” Laila laughs. Gods, her smile is enough to make everything seem okay for once.

“Please.” Juniper rolls her eyes. “I got plenty of friends, like, uh… there’s that Aurora chick I guess? I haven’t talked to her outside of comms, but—” She shrugs and laughs. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes sipping their coffee and occasionally staring at the other. They’re aboard an old cargo plane that the rebellion managed to get their hands on. How? Who knows, lot of old air jockeys love these things.

Flying thousands of feet above the sea, Wardog’s job today is to hit Imperial-Held Aurelia, Juniper’s homeland. Eight years ago, the Empire hit Aurelia, and they hit it hard. Aurelian forces fought fiercely but were no match for the might of the Empire. Aurelia fell in a week. She was one of many pilots on the front lines fighting back against the bastards, to no avail.

At week’s end, they were given the surrender signal. Hostilities ceased, but from there on, they were soldiers of the Empire. Like many others, she ran and wound up drifting for a few years. Hard to remember how long ago it was now, but she ended up joining the rebellion, fighting for every piece of land in Kitala in an attempt to free the people.

She honestly thought there was a good chance of success back then. They made gains— hell, they liberated an entire province. Sure, they continue to make gains here and there, but at what cost? Everyone she comes to know winds up dead eventually.

Probably why they call her the Angel of Death.

“So… you ready for today’s mission?” Laila says, after a beat.

“Not in the least bit. You give any thought to my ‘fake our deaths’ proposal?” It’s a stupid idea Juniper dreamed up, in the hopes that they could live under assumed names somewhere and start fresh.

Laila sighs. “Yeah, I wish we could. One way or another, we need a way out, but that’s not the answer. I mean, look at you, Juniper, you’re falling apart. I know a lot of it’s my fault for how hard I work you, but fuck.”

“Lails, you remember our dream, right?” Juniper yawns.

Laila nods, sipping her coffee. “A cabin in the countryside, somewhere remote enough we don’t need to worry about the war. I know, love. I still want it, but… we need to be realistic.” She reaches across the small table to squeeze Juniper’s hand. “I don’t know how, but we’re getting out of here soon, I promise you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Juniper Sladek.” Laila’s hand is warm and soft, a nice reminder of their life together.

“I love you too, Laila Praxian.” ‘Til death do them part, and they’re not yet ready to die.

“You ready for the homecoming?” Laila puts on her ‘Captain Voice;' it’s slightly lower pitch, more serious. “I know it’s… bad memories, right?”

“Mm. Yeah.” Juniper nods. “Bad memories of a woman who doesn’t exist anymore. I keep trying to run from her with no success.” She leans back in her chair, trying to get comfortable. “Anyway can we just postpone this mission, say we ran into rough conditions and call it a day?”

Laila shakes her head, a sad look on her face. “No, afraid not. But hey, chin up, okay? I talked to Adama yesterday, he gave us permission to take it easy after this op.”

“Wait, what!? Lails, you—”

“I did.” Laila grins, squeezing her love’s hand. “I got the ol’ hardass to give us time off, save for night patrol duty. Honestly, I’m just ready to kick back with a beer once we’re back to Volterra. Cuddle up with you, maybe snag a projector and watch something. How’s that sound?”

“Laila Praxian, you are the most wonderful woman in the world, you know that?” Juniper wants to cry, but chooses instead to laugh. Fuck, Lails always knows how to look out for her.

“Pfft, flattery won’t get you anywhere, except between my legs.” She waggles her eyebrows, unable to contain her laughter. “Seriously, June, I’m tired too. Fuck, barely two weeks ago we were fighting to defend a supply convoy out near the Helvetia border, I’m still reeling from that. I don’t even want to think about the strain on Argos. My poor baby.”

From inside Juniper’s right jacket pocket, she idly flips open and closed a lighter. Gods the nicotine cravings always get bad during these stressful ops. Laila keeps wanting her to quit, but that’s hard when you’re being pushed to the bone.

There’s a certain irony to it all though. Juniper survived lung cancer thanks to a transplant some odd years ago. And she continues to smoke afterwards, because she’s a godsforsaken idiot. Not like the cigarettes ever did anything wrong, the fucking gas attacks back during the war did her in.

It’s hard not to think back on the war, some thousand feet above the sea. Fuck, she’d rather be in the cockpit making adjustments before the big drop, but Laila’s ‘banned’ her from spending every waking moment making adjustments or going over combat footage. And thank fuck for that.

Laila is the brains of Wardog while Juniper is the brawn. Together, they form a mighty impressive team that gets the job done. It’s why they’re called “heroes,” despite neither of them exactly enjoying that title.

What’s so heroic about not dying?

They’re the propaganda pieces that the rebels can’t get enough of. The most decorated aces outside of some corpses and they’re a couple. “The Power of Love”, and all that bullshit gets thrown around. Who in Kitala hasn’t seen the Wardog emblem? It’s fucking everywhere.

Laila looks down at the silver watch on her wrist, sighing. “Welp, looks like it’s about time we get prepped.” She stands and offers Juniper a hand, immediately kissing her lips. “Come on, I got something for you before we head down.”

“Yeah, yeah, after you dear captain.” She laughs, following Laila to a set of lockers. “What’d you get me? A locker? You shouldn’t have.” Juniper responds with all the wit and dryness possible.

“Funny, but no.” Inside the locker hangs two pilot suits. They look heavier than the crappy jump suits most rebel pilots wear, that’s for sure. “Call it an early anniversary present, I got us some custom pilot suits.” That’s Laila alright, always these little things to break up the monotony of it all. “Try it on, tell me how it feels.” She hands Juniper the jumpsuit, not bothering to look away.

Almost as soon as she’s gotten her pants off, Laila wolf whistles and laughs. “Nice bulge, love.” It helps that she’s in a similar state of undress, or someone might accuse them of flirting. Perish the thought, the lovers flirting.

Juniper wears a white jumpsuit that sports a broad, bright gold block running along her centerline, starting at her knees and moving upward along her stomach. The gold stops as it reaches her sternum before flaring outward along her biceps and down to hug along her triceps and forearms.

“How’s it look?” She flexes her left hand, satisfied with the tightness. Feels nice to wear a jumpsuit that isn’t just made of the least durable cloth. If it holds up to more than two missions, then it’s perfect.

Laila has on an identical suit, save hers being purple instead of gold. “Missing just one thing—” She leans in, planting a kiss on her wife’s lips. “—Much better.”

The walk back down into the hangar is short, but these stairs are absolute shit; have to be extra careful going down them or you might hurt yourself if the plane hits turbulence. Mechanics are all over the cargo bay tinkering with the two mechs and adding last minute ammunition. Both clad in gunmetal gray, they’re two of the most unique designs around, but total hangar queens. Takes an entire team to service both mechs, lucky them.

Climbing into the open cockpit hatch of her mech, Juniper gets herself comfortable and begins the startup sequence. Three switches are flipped on her left console, followed by a symphony of noise overtaking the otherwise quiet cockpit. For a brief moment, the hum of two reactors booting drowns out the background engine noise, quickly quieting down to a slight hum. The stench of burnt metal and fuel permeate through the air, a nauseating scent to someone who hasn’t spent most of their life in a cockpit, but soothing to her.

Two red lights illuminate the cargo bay, scanning and searching, only to die down a few seconds later. All systems reading green across the board, it’s almost time to unleash hell upon the Imperials.

Gods, Juniper can’t do this.

It’s all too much. Outside of the mech, it’s easy to present herself as not falling apart, but the truth is, she’s a broken woman. The illusion of Juniper Sladek being anything but haunted shatters the minute that hatch shutters. In the darkness of the cockpit, ghosts are all she sees.

Even as the green lights of the monitors and various systems panels illuminate the cockpit, all she can think of is the suffocating feeling of this metal coffin. So much blood spilled, and for what? So she can lie awake at night imagining the faces of the people she’s slaughtered?

A desperate feeling of escape overcomes her every sense. All it takes is opening the hatch, she can do that. Just… open the hatch. Open. The. Hatch.

It doesn’t open.

Her hands tremble and refuse to flip the switch for it. Why? Why can’t she open it? She can feel herself suffocating in here, but still can’t find the resolve to open the fucking hatch. Oh gods, oh gods, this is how she dies, isn’t it?

Tears stream down her face as the breakdown happens in real time. She can’t handle the pressure, it’s all too much to bear. Her heart is beating faster and her hands continue to tremble underneath the weight of a panic attack.

Juniper can’t breathe, she can’t think, her chest feels like it’s about to explode. There’s so much blood on her hands and she’s being asked to spill more blood. None of them know what it’s like to be in this much pain constantly; where the only way she can ever get a good night’s sleep is with drugs and alcohol, or how she’s haunted by a past she wants so desperately to forget.

‘Talk to me, Sladek, you good?’ Laila’s calm and caring voice rings out. She knows what the deal is. This is sadly normal for them nowadays. Been that way since they lost Eris — hell, since always.

“’M good, j-just need to finish pre-flight checks.” Juniper’s voice cracks and for a brief moment her dead voice returns. Just another reason why she can’t pilot anymore. She’s broken.

She doesn’t need a video feed to know that Laila’s shaking her head right now. Probably breaking down just as hard. ‘June, I need you to do something for me, alright?’

“Why? T-Told you, ‘m fine.” Juniper needs to get control of her emotions fast, otherwise—

‘Junebug, just trust me, okay? I want you to close your eyes and count backwards from ten. I promise it’ll help.’

Juniper closes her eyes as requested, counting backwards down from ten. Each number helps her to focus, to find her: Juniper Sladek – The Hero, the badass, the whatever. The version of her who can do this without breaking down. Then, as the count reaches zero, her eyes open and a sharp breath is exhaled with her running a hand through her hair.

‘How’re you feeling now, love?’

“I’ll live, let’s get this shit done and over with. ‘Sides, I got plans right in-between your legs, don’t I?” They both laugh. “Thanks, Lails. I know this is too common now, but… thanks. I love you.”

‘I love you too, Juniper. Don’t forget, we’re in this together.’ Laila always knows just what to say when it matters. Maybe that’s why she’s the brains of Wardog.

Juniper grabs hold her of her dog tags, tossing them from her left hand to the right, back and forth, again and again, until it’s all that she’s focusing on. This little ritual helps to focus her head and get everything mentally in-order. When your brain is constantly fucked, you need to do something to fix it, if only temporarily.

‘All non-essential personnel evacuate the hangar. Repeat, all non-essential personnel evacuate the hangar.’ A voice commands over the intercom. Maintenance staff give their final checks on the mechs before tethering themselves to the floor as the cargo bay doors begin to open. Air rushes inward and lights flash. Outside those bay doors there’s a whole lot of nothing awaiting them. It’s still fairly dark outside, the sun hasn’t quite risen yet. There’s nothing down there but sea for miles and miles.

Juniper straps herself into the cockpit and begins final pre-flight checks. Green across the board meaning that it’s time to get thrown into hell. She closes her eyes, folding her arms to her midsection. Deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

‘Wardog, clear for drop, give ‘em hell out there!’

‘That’s our cue, June.‘

Juniper cracks her neck, fitting the tags around her neck again. “Copy that.”

Showtime.

Laila’s mech slides down the rails of the transport first, sparks flying as it clears the final rails and plunges into the dark abyss. Juniper’s is next, speeding down the rails at breakneck speed until it plummets into the skies below. She folds her arms against her stomach to let the force of launch pass.

Free falling at hundreds of feet a second should be worrying, yet she isn’t at all scared. Only continuing to stare at her HUD and yawn at the continually falling altimeter. After the dozenth mid-air launch, it gets predictable.

Besides, her machine doesn’t have a parachute system equipped, nor landing boosters. Certain doom, right? Nothing separating you from being buried in this metal coffin. Well, this gunmetal gray beast currently plummeting towards the ground, is named Ixion, and right when the twin throttles feed the engines power, its flight system roars to life.

That’s right, her mech flies.

Mechs can’t fly, the thrust-to-weight alone'd drive engineers insane. Too heavy? Flying brick. Too big? Glider on steroids. And that still doesn’t take into account the amount of reactor fuel you’d need to power it! Building it out of E-Carbon sounds great until you account for maintenance, let alone procurement. Empire would never approve such an insane design while the rebels technically can’t afford it. Not without outside help, anyway.

Turns out Juniper Sladek is pretty fucking insane.

Science isn’t her forte, but theft sure as hell is. Archives are full of juicy items just begging to be stolen. Ixion isn’t some cobbled together scrapheap like most rebel mechs are. Its slim profile and tall, upright build help to give it a distinctive human form that lends itself perfectly to flight. When those four gunmetal gray wings mounted at the shoulders and waist unfold, it sure as shit can fly.

You can do a lot of complicated shit when you’ve got a top-of-the-line reactor. Ixion’s pulse reactor pumps out a steady stream of heavy particles that leaves a trail of shimmering green in wake, helping her to do what honestly shouldn’t be possible.

Despite the problems in her head, flying is one of the few things Juniper has that quiets her inner demons. It’s at the moment that her wings catch air that the anxieties disappear. Sure, she’s a fucking mess of trauma and what have you, but that feeling of freedom makes it all worth it.

Grasping the twin sticks tight, Ixion is pulled into a slow, shallow dive. Nice and slow, like a leaf on the wind.

Laila’s machine, Argos, isn’t far behind, easily keeping pace with Ixion.

Unlike this slender beast, Argos is bulky and quite frankly a flying brick. Built on the frame of a Doru, two engines are mounted onto its hips and another two built into the shoulders, helping this ludicrous machine stay airborne while its two large wings extend from its back.

It’s very much a patchwork creation brought to life by an engineer who had access to parts meant for Ixion and too much funding from the rebellion’s “mysterious benefactor” who equips them well. Still has a few telltale characteristics of a Doru, namely the mono eye and beetle shell armor on the shoulders, but otherwise Argos is a fully custom job at this point.

What separates Wardog from the others isn’t just their mechs: They’re both aces.

They dive out from the dark clouds and skim across the surface of the sea. Calm seas today, makes things easier but rather boring

All that’s left to do now is wait for landfall. From there, they’ll kill their engines and proceed as planned. Intel broker sold the rebels info on a massive radar station being built out in Aurelia. That’s where Wardog comes in: They take it out, Empire shakes their fists.

Rinse and repeat.

‘How’re things looking on your end, Junebug?’ Even during missions, Laila can’t help but use that old pet name. It’s so damn corny, but it’s hard to not love it.

“Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.” Juniper recites it in a bored tone and stretches out her arms. “Let’s just get this done before I break down again.”

‘I feel you there, love. Fire reverse thrusters on my mark.’ Even Laila sounds bored by the mission. ‘Three… Two… Now!’ Ixion and Argos touch down onto an Aurelian beach, venting steam out from every exhaust port. ‘Shouldn’t be far from the target, couple klicks it looks like.’

“Copy.” Juniper yawns. She’s tired. Not just because of the panic attack, but from her lack of sleep. It was three hours tops, which has sadly become the norm. The other night she woke up to another panic attack and it took half an hour to come down from it. Ugh, hopefully being able to relax for a bit will help.

Night patrol is easy, she could do that in her sleep.

***

It's been a long walk, at this point the sun has risen over Aurelia and any element of stealth Wardog had is gone. This is weird, they should have arrived at their destination already. Fuck, this is why you can't trust info brokers. Sure, the assholes will sell info to the rebels in exchange for cash or often times supplies, but if Coeus sold them bad info, that motherfucker is in for a world of hurt.

Juniper downs an energy drink while staring at her HUD. “Hey Lails, how far to target?”

‘I'll be honest June, I got no clue. Everything Coeus gave us points to this general area. Ugh, dammit, alright, I'm giving it ten minutes. After that, I'm scrubbing it and we're RTB, deal?’ Laila sighs in frustration.

Coeus looks to have sold them bad info, guess you can cross her off the list of reliable brokers. Can't trust the lot of them, they're just as shitty as mercs, except they don't bother getting their hands dirty. Bold words from the merc-turned-rebel, but fuck ‘em. The rebellion has been trying to move away from using them, especially after they were sold bad info on a convoy that led to an ambush a few months back.

Only reason this op even got the green-light was because the information was supposedly airtight. Who the fuck verified its legitimacy? Dunno, but whoever did better hope this isn't some trap, or it's their ass being set-up next time.

“Well, if we don't run into trouble, we can link up with the transport and maybe catch some z's, until we have to unload.” Juniper laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

They're on the eastern side of a mountain range, walking through a dense forest. Every slow step is methodical. Don't want to knock anything down and give away what little stealth they've got. Not too far from their current position should be a rail line, which could be used to find this supposed radar station, but considering how dense this forest is, good fucking luck. Otherwise, there's nothing around for miles on end, just two mechs and endless trees.

If they continue their current pace, they'll reach Druzi, her hometown, within half an hour or so. Not exactly the place she wants to wind up. No idea what became of the place post-war, but if it's not abandoned, it's probably some factory town now. It was a shithole anyway, no big loss there.

She relaxes into her seat, trying in vain to get comfortable. It's not that the seat isn't comfortable, because it's not. Rather, it's far too quiet for her liking. Juniper's paranoid, she knows that, but you don't walk into these situations and not expect something to happen. Even still, radar is clear, so who knows?

Now's not the time to get paranoid Sladek, get it together.

After another mile of dense forest trekking they come to a clearing, the railroad tracks they were searching for now clearly visible. Just their luck when the mission could have been scrubbed. Following along the tracks, they walk along an old bridge overlooking a river. It's slow going, but still quiet for now.

‘June, you're faster, you handle the sc—’ A cannon shot rings out, slamming into Argos’ chest. It collapses, leaving Juniper to worry about her partner.

Another shot echoes in the distance, missing Ixion by only inches. “Lails, status report!?”

‘I'll be fine, they got a sniper, deal with it!’

The targeting computer lights up with a Doru buried atop a cliff in thick brush. It's far out of range for any of Ixion's weapons to get to without getting closer. Even worse, the radar shows four contacts closing in fast behind them. Great, up shit creek now.

If they want to dance with death, who is she to complain

At the push of a button on the right stick, Ixion deploys its assault rifle and Juniper immediately sets it for full auto. Need to cover Laila while she's downed. Side thrusters fire, barely dodging the next round. The two hostiles are closing fast, while there's also a sniper to deal with, just what was needed to relieve the boredom.

Juniper punches the flight system into high-gear, taking Ixion into the skies to chase after the sniper. It's right as she takes off that two Doru unleash machine gun fire on her, forcing her to evade.

‘June, go! I'll handle them!’ Argos stands at last, spitting hot lead from its arm-mounted gatling guns onto the approaching Doru.

Ixion dodges cannon fire with ease, unloading a barrage of full-auto fire onto the Doru sniper. It's covered in a tarp to match the terrain, no wonder they couldn't spot the damned thing when they hit the bridge. After a full clip of AR fire, the sniper and various personnel around the Doru go quiet, removing it from the equation.

“Laila, status?” Ixion blasts back towards the bridge, reloading its AR in preparation for the two additional incoming enemies. They're a little further out, giving her time to slip in.

‘Two down, got two more coming. Argos'll live.’

Two other Doru are laying down covering fire in an attempt to get to their fallen comrades. Juniper could laugh right now because just a few minutes ago she was so fucking bored. Instead, she mentally counts herself down. Right as it reaches zero, Ixion is skating across the bridge with the finesse of a gymnast, weaving through MG fire like it was nothing and promptly sending the first of two Doru down with a grenade launched from her AR. One down, leaving only its partner — who makes the foolish mistake to charge at her with an axe.

Ixion deploys its combat knife, feeding the small blade excess reactor heat. Once it's stabbed through the Doru's chest, there is no more enemy to worry about. Three down in ten minutes. Not her best time, but whatever.

Juniper slumps into her seat and sighs. “How're you doing over there cap?”

Argos reloads its massive twin-gatlings. ‘Showoff.’ Laila laughs.

“And you love me for it!” Juniper blows a kiss to Argos, trying desperately to not laugh. “So, what now? Continue on, or?”

‘Hang on, I'm trying to get the call on if we proceed or not.’ There goes Laila, immediately falling into work mode. She's a true leader, Juniper is just along for the ride. ‘Yeah, we've been given the go-ahead to continue, sorry love.’

She shrugs. “Through the tunnel then?”

‘Yeah.’

The two mechs of Wardog proceed across the bridge and into the dark train tunnel, whereupon both pilots engage night vision; never know what could be lurking after all. This is routine for them. Despite her earlier panic attack, the sad truth is that she doesn't know how to quit piloting. Neither of them do, it's their ultimate failing.

She can't find it in her to blame Laila, because she's just the same as Juniper: Tired, but incapable of saying no. If they were told to jump, they'd do it to help the rebellion. They both show their fears in different ways: For Juniper, it's panic attacks and chain smoking. For Laila, she has a punching bag that never goes quiet.

Juniper's nerves are shot and she has to force herself to keep going. It would be a hit to the morale of everyone to see one of the big aces breaking down into a sobbing mess. But it's easy enough to wear the mask of the hotshot ace, still fits like a glove after all.

She stares at the cockpit monitors, watching the nothingness of the pitch-black tunnel continue on for gods know how long. Reminds her of the tunnels back at base, fucking thing is a maze of underground labyrinths. Easiest way to disorient any raiding parties, because they won't know what hit them.

There's a song stuck in her head, that instrumental that was playing earlier. It's catchy, but she can't quite remember the title, let alone the artist. She doesn't even remember putting that in a playlist, which is weird. But then, she was probably sleep deprived at the time, so who cares?

‘Should be coming up on the exit soon, from there it looks like we're going hiking. Hope you brought some hiking boots, Junebug.’ Laila's voice is always the bright ray of sunshine for Juniper's scattered and erratic thoughts. Even if she's doing her best to bury the anxious thoughts, Laila is always right there to comfort her when they get too much.

After what feels like hours of walking, they finally reach the light at the end of the tunnel, whereupon both mechs promptly kneel down and their pilots begin sensor sweeps. It'll be easier if they know what's coming rather than trying to guess while they're in the middle of enemy territory. “All clear here, what about you, cap?”

‘Mm, same, I don't like this. Far too quiet, that sniper wasn't coincidental.’ Laila sighs. ‘Too late to scrub it, but we both know the Imperials aren't that lackadaisical with security, even this deep into their own territory.’

Juniper nods in agreement. “Want me to do recon, see what I see and feed you the resulting data?”

‘You read my mind, June, get me that data and I'll start strategizing.’ This is where Argos’ specialties come into play: It's loaded with an advanced sensor suite ripped straight out of a special forces Belos mech. And it's what makes the two of them so deadly.

With an intense speed behind it, Ixion gets airborne, taking in a wide view of the area. Its sensors sweep the area, feeding that data back to Argos. All she has to do is hold position, let the sensors do their thing and hope that it doesn't result in anyone attacking.

Easy!

Even from up here, there's nothing coming up on radar, but she can make out the radar station they're supposed to hit in all of its glory. Four extremely large satellite dishes, each pointed in different directions; one tower with a circular radome on top; and a scattering of antennae throughout the mountainous station. Looks to be two large concrete structures built with the equipment. Probably hangars. None of the radar equipment looks to be operational yet, judging by the half-finished radome, so they're in luck.

‘Data acquired, good work.’

Ixion descends back onto the ground, linking up with Argos. “Anything useful? I found our target, but didn't see any mechs nearby. Kind of worried it's some sort of trap.”

Laila hums, typing away. ‘Well, the good news is that the sniper wasn't a coincidence. Bad news? Got a scattering of forces throughout the area, I'm surprised they didn't spot you, but this far into Imperial territory, I guess they get complacent.’

“So, what's the plan?”

‘Hang on, sending data now.’ A combat map appears over Juniper's secondary monitor, showing the general layout of the area. They're currently near the base of the mountain the radar station is located at. Forces are scattered throughout, ten, maybe twenty total mechs. If they play their cards right, they can avoid the main force entirely.

‘Direct route is a no-go, too dangerous. However, I've found us an alternate route that avoids most of the forces.’   

“So what's the catch?” She knows all too well that there is always a catch.

‘Mm, well. It's a more dangerous path. Just flying up there is out of the question, so the indirect route involves a steep climb up the side of a mountain.’ Oh, joy, a climb.

Ixion and Argos get moving through the thick forest yet again, following the train tracks for a few miles. Juniper has to keep an eye on radar to ensure they're skirting the enemy combatants. Then, as they reach the mountainside, the real fun begins.

Argos is first up getting a running start, timing its engine bursts perfectly. Honestly, Laila makes it look almost easy, the way her mech effortlessly scales the mountainside.

Ixion is next, scaling the rocky mountainside by using its thrusters to ‘leap’ from side to side. It took so many hours of training to get that down to instinct alone. Helps to program the thruster timing yourself.

With the climb easily taken care of, they slowly proceed onto their objective, keeping their comms silent on the off chance they could be intercepted. There's a nagging thought in that back of Juniper's mind that this is all far too convenient.

Get it together Sladek, you'll have time to be paranoid when this is all over.

It's right as they reach the radar station that they're met with a squad of hostiles. Okay, so maybe Juniper was just paranoid for nothing. Of course there would be enemies here, that's good, right?

'Looks like we stirred up the hornets nest, what do you say we give them a show?’

“Sounds good to me.” Ixion reloads its AR, sticking in a new magazine. “Loser buys drinks?”

‘You're on, Junebug.’

Ixion and Argos skate across the mountainous terrain to the top of the hill, being met with a squad of Doru waiting for them. The twin units of Wardog weave across the ground, dodging machine gun fire. Argos fires a pair of gatling guns on its left arm, firing hot lead through two Doru which lifelessly fall to the ground.

Juniper breathes deep and throws the throttle into high gear, dodging a burst of uneven fire from a Doru. Quickly moving Ixion into melee range, its knife makes quick work of its opponent. The thing about Dorus is that they have awful CQC, they're better suited for ranged fire, which makes an opponent like Ixion so damn deadly.

When its next opponent fires its weapon, a burst of AR fire is quickly dispatched, ending its attack. It's like they're not even trying, at least make this fight worth her time!

Doru after Doru fall to Wardog, leaving only carnage in their wake. When all's said and done, twenty total mechs have been downed. It's why they're aces, the best of the fucking best.

“Looks like we tied, how about that?” Juniper smirks and finally relaxes. All they need to do is destroy this shithole and exfil.

‘Tell you what, you buy drinks and you can get between my legs, have a little fun, you know, the usual.’ Gods, Laila will just find any chance to bring that up, won't she?

“Yeah, fine.” Juniper laughs and watches the fireworks. Argos fires missiles from its wings at the various half-built radar equipment. In seconds, it all begins to explode around them.

Mission Accomplished.

She relaxes in her seat, sighing. Now all they need to do is get out of here and back to the transport. Compared to the rest of this mission, that's easy. Wordlessly, the pair take to the skies once more, heading south. This route will take them over Druzi, but it's also easier than backtracking.

***

It’s just as Juniper finally gets comfortable that everything begins going wrong. The missile warning alarm rings out, forcing her to pull Ixion into an insane dive. Over-G warnings light up the HUD but are ignored while she attempts to evade. Chest vulcans light up, barely downing the missile before impact “Lails, we got incoming!”

Of course this had to happen over fucking Druzi. Seems fate wants her to return to the shithole she grew up in. The streets below are abandoned, the entire place looks to be decaying since the war ended.

‘No worries, we deal with them and get back on course, big deal.’ Laila is as nonchalant as ever, gods Juniper envies that.

Except that envy ends fast when she realizes a pair of missiles are speeding towards Argos. “LAILA! BREAK RIGHT! MISSILE! MISSILE! MISSILE!” She screams, pushing the throttle to its max in an attempt to catch up to Argos.

By the time Ixion can even catch up, it’s too late to intercept. Two missiles slam into Argos’ backside, exploding on contact. There’s too much black smoke billowing to make a clear guess as to the damage, but it’s not good.

Argos is trailing smoke and struggling to stay airborne. ‘Engine one is hit, four isn’t looking too hot either. Gonna set it down, give me cover June!’ It slams hard against the ground, having lost one wing to the missile and another to the impact.

Juniper wants to vomit staring at this sickening sight. Her partner’s mech is missing a head, both wings, and there’s a deep gash on its back where most of the flight system used to be. Gods, this is her fault, Juniper should have been faster. She could have intercepted those missiles if she hadn’t been distracted. Circling the downed mech, she searches for any any sign of the missiles origin point only to find a squad of three Belos advancing on their position. Spec-ops has joined the party at the worst possible time.

Fuck.

“Lails, status report!?” Her hands are shaking, the anxiety is returning and the mask begins to slip. Fuck, everything is going to shit all of a sudden. Need a plan, and fast, because there’s no way that Laila can handle this on her own.

‘I’ll be honest, Argos has seen better days. I can fly on two engines, but It’ll be tough. June: I need you to cover me until I get things operational again, can you manage?’ It’s that sweet, soft voice, the one she uses when Juniper is on the verge of a panic attack.

She takes a shallow breath, trying to stop her shaky hands. “Right, yeah, I, uh, I’ll cover you. Just promise me Lails, we’re getting out of here together.” Already on the verge of tears, fuck she’s so fucking useless.

‘Yeah, I promise you, Juniper: We’re going home together.’ That calm voice again, no, no, NO DAMMIT! Laila’s fucking lying.

Ixion lands next to the downed Argos, giving it cover from the incoming squad of four Belos. Built on the frame of the Doru, the Belos is what they send in to take down high value targets.

Wardog are surrounded on all sides by Imperial mechs. There is no escaping this. Ixion has enough ammo to keep fighting, but Argos? Hard to tell if its weapon system are even operational. Juniper sighs, running a hand through her hair. They’ve been in tougher situations, but this might easily be top three.

Radar is picking up an odd reactor signature, an old Aurelian mech from when there was an Aurelia. And that’s when she sees it: In the ruins of what once was a building stands a blue mech holding a handheld missile launcher. Its paint is mostly faded and chipped, but there are clear signs all over of its original paint job. Thick armor; one large engine is mounted on its back and a shield hangs from its left arm. Various parts of the mech look to have been replaced with ones from a Doru. It’s an Aegis, or whatever the Imperials could salvage of one.

The sound of… clapping comes over the comms, only adding to the bizarre situation. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Laila Praxian and Juniper Sladek. You know, Wardog Squadron has caused quite the mess, what with destroying that radar station..’ It’s a woman’s voice, is she the pilot of this Aegis?

“And you are?” Juniper raises an eyebrow, but keeps her guard up. This is trouble.

‘My name isn’t important right now, perhaps you’ll blessed to learn it soon enough.’ This is only getting weirder by the second, just what is going on?

“Lails are you—”

‘And what is it you want with us?’ Laila interrupts, asking what they’re both thinking.

The mysterious woman chuckles darkly, as if there was something funny about this situation. ‘Why that’s quite simple: I want your surrender. Make this easy on yourselves and I won’t have to sic my hound on you both.’

Juniper isn’t going back, she’s dealt with the Empire before and doesn’t care to do so again.

‘Not exactly a convincing argument, but what’s in it for us?’

‘Your lives, or what’s left of them. My hound is currently awaiting my order to attack and while I’d enjoy watching it go berserk, I would prefer taking you both in alive. I’m certain that you don’t have the energy to deal with her and still deal with the squad of Belos.’ Need a plan and fast, before—

Laila sighs. ‘Alright, I know when we’ve been beat. We’ll come along willingly, if you agree not to attack. June? Stand down, we can’t win here.’

It’s right as Juniper wants to attack that she hears that same song in her head again. Soothing, yet earwormy all the same. Honestly, it’s easier to just surrender on the spot and then let them do whatever. Maybe she’ll be able to relax with Laila finally.

Relaxation? Bullshit. Juniper’s heard the horror stories, fuck, she’s seen them!

Ixion screeches across the road with its blade drawn, intending to end this in one move. They’ve awakened the Angel of Death, and now she’s going to kill them all. “Fuck you! I’d rather die then surrender to you bastards!” She screams, firing chest vulcans at Aegis.

‘LIEUTENANT SLADEK! STAND DOWN!’ Laila’s commands are meaningless right now. A primal anger has overtaken Juniper, she remembers the horror stories, she remembers all of it so fucking well, despite wishing she could forget them.

That mysterious woman sighs and laughs. ‘Ahh, it’s a shame, I had hoped to take survivors. Hound: Authorization Granted, Off the Leash.’

In the span of twenty seconds, Aegis sheds it heavy armor revealing a thinner and more animalistic machine underneath. It’s barely even an Aegis at this point! There is no armor left, revealing the bare frame rails and claws, like it’s some sort of beast. It doesn’t bother to use any weaponry as it charges towards Ixion. “Laila, status report!?”

It’s no good, no matter how many Juniper calls out for Laila, there is no response, only a loud hissing static. Fucking fuck, of course they’re being jammed!

Juniper slams down the throttle and pulls back on the controls to send Ixion into the air before Aegis can strike at her. Need to deal with this thing fast, buy Laila time to get back in the fight. That’s the only way they’ll have a shot at this.

The group of Belos have disappeared from visual range, but there isn’t any time to worry about that, they can be dealt with next. Ixion’s knife springs free from its holster, being gripped tightly in its right hand. The edges of the metallic blade glow bright red from reactor heat being re-routed to it. Aegis shed all its armor, there’s no way it’ll survive this next attack.

Just as Aegis begins its insane charge, Ixion dives hard and fast, intending to end this fight in one blow. Four wire-guided missiles launch from a chest cavity in Aegis, forcing Juniper to throw the controls into evasive maneuvers, but by the time she levels off, it’s far too late:

It was a fucking feint.

Aegis was aiming for Argos all along, calling her bluff. In only seconds, the piercing sound of metal limbs being torn apart is all that she can hear. She watches in horror as Argos is torn limb from limb. Redlining the throttle isn’t enough; by the time Ixion touches down, she’s forced to watch the carnage unfold.

Like an animal playing with its food, Aegis runs a claw across the cockpit hatch of its prey, practically begging Juniper to attack. She aims the rifle carefully, desperately searching for an opening to avoid hitting Laila, but every fucking firing angle runs into the same problem: One shot that even slightly misses might kill her.

No matter how much Juniper should take the shot, she can’t. In a moronic attempt to surrender, she tosses aside Ixion’s rifle to signal her intent.

Aegis sinks its claws deep through Argos, tossing aside its corpse to the ground and turning its attention elsewhere. There is a large hole through what would be Argos’ cockpit section, confirming Juniper’s fears:

Laila is dead.

No.

No.

NO.

NO.

NO.

Juniper breaks down at the gruesome sight of Argos. She wants desperately to vomit at the remains of it, yet can’t bring herself to actually do so. It’s horrifying, all but one limb has been torn off and it’s only hanging on by a thread. As if to make matters worse, there’s a large hole protruding through its back that slowly leaks out reactor fuel like blood.

Everyone Juniper comes to know and love ends up dying because of her failings. She fucking hesitated and should have taken the shot when she had the chance. Now, she’s going to have to live with the fact that she killed her partner.

She’s lost everyone, and now’s she truly alone.

A rage-filled scream leaves her throat as she starts to bash her head against the console until blood starts to gush down her face, staining much of her pilot suit. All the anger, anxieties, and even her frustrations are meaningless now. Her screams only grow louder and louder until her voice goes hoarse. Fine, if they want to dance so fucking badly, who is she to deny them a death?

There’s only a dejected sigh that leaves her lips while her trembling hands reach up to flip four safety switches into the off position. Warnings begin to sound throughout the cockpit but are dismissed. Every last limiter on-board Ixion has been removed, it’ll get the job done even if it kills her in the process. At least if she dies, she’ll see Laila soon after.

When Juniper draws her next breath, she slams down the throttle, immediately being pushed back into her seat by the sudden acceleration. Once more, Ixion’s combat knife is drawn, but with the extra energy being diverted to it, the heat coalesces around it to form a sword.

Right here and now, she’ll end this.

Ixion charges in, buffeting Aegis with chest vulcan fire as a distraction for the burning green blade to stab through the beast’s ‘heart.’ Just to add onto her problems, right as the blade should penetrate through, it shorts out. Before she can respond, Ixion is sliced with those same damned claws. Reverse thrusters fire, but her opponent digs its claws into her upper wings, tearing them off to hinder escape.

As Aegis aims for the waist-mounted wings next, that’s when Ixion strikes, pulling its knife out of the monster’s torso and slicing off an arm. Every last system is quickly rerouted onto the engines, but it’s much too late to escape. Another set of wire-guided missiles fire, prompting a high-g maneuver to evade. But with the damage sustained already, the g’s being pulled shear off an arm and the wire-guided missile impacts deep. But the missiles never explode, instead burrowing deep into Ixion’s already damaged frame, giving time for the wire to pull taut into the awaiting claw of Aegis.

Juniper’s machine slams into the concrete, taking out the other arm in the process. She could laugh right now if it didn’t hurt so fucking much. This is it, this is how she dies. Her own arrogance killed them both.

Aegis’ remaining arm pounds and bashes at anything and everything on board Ixion that it can. One by one, each camera on board her mech goes silent, save for one on the left shoulder. This is it for her, the frame is beginning to crunch and cave in from the constant attack. She’ll be dead soon, hopefully it’ll be quick.

Just as Juniper resigns herself to death and removes her hands from the controls, Aegis goes quiet, collapsing backwards onto the pavement, giving Ixion just enough room to die in peace. At least it’ll be a quick death.

An eject alert keeps humming in her ears, but the system is fucked anyway. Whatever’s going on up above isn’t Juniper’s concern anymore, she just wants to take a long nap.

Could barely take down an Aegis, it would have been suicide to go against spec-ops.

Once her eyes finally close and everything around her goes black, she figures she’ll wake up in a hospital bed or a grave. She isn’t picky as to which it is anymore. The sound of rotors getting ever closer briefly wakes her from her slumber, but she’s far too banged up to pay attention for long. It’s probably a rescue chopper, courtesy of Laila, who must have ejected at the last minute. Juniper absolutely does not deserve such a wonderful partner.

What would she do without her kind and beautiful wife?

Once they’re back home, she can see how bad the damage to her baby is and go through the process of getting new parts built. But that’s a problem for later. For right now, she’s going to go back to sleep. Maybe she’ll have that relaxing dream again, or hear the song that refuses to leave her head.

Mm, that’d be nice…

Grinding. The sound of a saw grinding against the metal hatch wakes her up. Must be someone back at base working on getting her out and into a hospital bed. Mechanics are going to have a field day trying to piece back together Ixion. At least this means they’re getting a rest.

Someone out there is shouting, but she can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Her eyes are heavy and she really wants to fall asleep, but it’s better she stay awake, lest she worry Laila and make her think she’s dead. As light begins to spill into the pitch black cockpit, Juniper gets her first look at the outside world.

This… This isn’t Volterra’s hangar, or the cargo plane they launched from.

Bright lights shine into the cockpit. Someone shouts, and then a gun is pointed at her head. Lucky for them, she’s too injured to move, or Ixion would turn them into pavement splatters. Juniper wants to laugh at that thought, but it hurts to laugh right now. How fucking ironic: after all these years, the Empire finally fucking caught her.

It’s right as she relaxes back into her seat, intending on dying in her sleep, that her harness is cut and she’s thrown face-first onto a cold concrete floor. The second she tries(and fails) to stand, she’s pinned down with a boot to the head.

“We meet at last, Lieutenant Sladek, I must say, you put on quite the entertaining show. Oh, but don’t try to move, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” A familiar voice laughs and snaps her fingers. It’s then that a swift kick to the stomach knocks Juniper out cold.